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Critical Response Portfolio

Literature RA 2023

Kunchur Bharat
3A

Critical Response:

CR1 – Practical Criticism

CR2 – Repetition in ROTD

CR3 – Marxist Literary Criticism

CR4 – Feminist Literary Criticism (omitted)

CR5 – Foucault & Power

CR6 – Literature & History

CR7 – Postmodernism

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CR1 – Practical Criticism (Final Response)

1. Bredin posits that the experiment conducted by IA Richards produces results which are

to be expected. He claims that it is “puzzling… that the result of the experiment should be a

cause of surprise or dismay to anyone.” The candidates involved in the experiment themselves

were unfamiliar to these conditions whereby poems were asked to be analysed without any

context. Bredin reminds us that “Richards himself remarked that “the precise conditions of this

test are not duplicated in our everyday commerce with literature.”” However, Bredin criticises

Richards for failing to recognise that the conditions placed in his experiment are the primary

cause for the students’ failures. While he consider Practical Criticism to be an interesting

endeavour, he finds it “unnatural” and argues that contextualising a text is necessary for a

complete understand and that “any competent teacher” would provide so. With greater

exposure to context, a student’s understanding of literary analysis would increase and their

ability to read and comprehend would grow stronger. According to Bredin, he finds such an

isolated approach to literature irrelevant to the “rich and dynamic world of literary culture”

2. I agree with Bredin’s assessment of Practical Criticism. Bredin believes that “any written

text requires a context to be fully understood”, a view which I share as well. A text-centric

approach, while the most focussed on language, form, and literary devices, does not allow for a

complete understanding of a text and adopting an alternative context-centric view is necessary

to ensure complete comprehension of the text. Adopting a view which takes into consideration

or contextualises the text from a different perspective can reflect the socio-cultural conditions

that the text was created in rather than merely training the reader to appreciate language.

Taking Alfian Saat’s poem, ‘The Government of Self’, as an example, a text-centred approach

would only allow for a superficial understanding of the poem, as we read of the legacy of a

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world leader after his retirement. However, upon doing more research on the author, who is a

Singaporean writer, we now observe the poem as a portrait of the political landscape of

Singapore. The deliberate decision to shy away from directly discussing the late Prime Minister

of Singapore, Mr Lee Kuan Yew, and to instead make subtle references to the criticism

surrounding his tenure (such as the “knuckle dusters/Entombed at last in their velvet-lined

cases.” As well as Mr Lee Kuan Yew’s tree planting campaign) highlight an insight about the

self-censorship surrounding political literature in Singapore. Hence, in such a case, what is left

unsaid in the poem and what is to be discovered by the reader serves a greater role than the

words themselves.

While Practical Criticism has a significant purpose in gauging one’s ability to break down texts

and as a method of assessment in schools, for the purpose of using Literature to enrich one’s

life, a deeper dive into the context combined with an analysis of the words used is imperative.

Although a sufficiently developed understanding of can emerge through strictly deducing

meaning from the textual elements, doing so with contexts strengthens the analysis by lending

depth and an understanding of the effect the text has on the socio-political climate of the time.

3. Morris criticises Leavis for his rigid interpretation of Practical Criticism. He claims that

Richards’ experiment regarding practical criticism allowed readers to “challenge the value and

status of canonical texts”. However, in contrast, Leavis adopted a “less flexible stance” and

sought to correct the “crude philistinism of an increasingly technological and impersonal age”.

Leavis believed in the necessity to teach citizens to “discriminate (between texts)” and to

“resist” against those which were not recognised as canonical. As a result, Morris regarded

Leavis as “reducing (Richards’ theories) to recognising the moral superiority”. In Morris’ mind,

Leavis had perverted the main focus of Richards’ theories in support of “recognising the moral

superiority of the canon” which as a result refocused practical criticism on “a method for

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gaining access to the moral thoughts of a select few authors” rather than focusing primarily on

language when analysing a text. Through Richards’ experiment however, it was clear that

differentiating between a canonical and non-canonical text using practical criticism was

impossible. However, Leavis completely ignores this in favour of “great English novelists” such as

“Jane Austen, George Eliot, Henry James, and Joseph Conrad” because of their “serious moral

concern”. Leavis believed isolating a text from any context revealed crucial universal moral

qualities. However, ironically, the main criticism according to Leavis, is that the focus on

de-contextualising a text, forced readers to interpret it unilaterally in terms of “British, white,

liberal humanist values.”

4. I agree with Morris’ view which criticises Leavis for his rigid interpretation of practical

criticism. From Richards’ experiment, it was found that there was no distinguishable difference

between canonical and non-canonical texts when the context was removed and the main focus

was on the text itself. However, Leavis is found to insist that only a certain group of authors

which can provide a significant moral lesson. While at first glance it may seem like a mere

alteration to Richards’ original set-up of practical criticism, upon closer observation to the

authors which Leavis believes to be of sufficient moral quality, he gravitates towards white,

English authors. As a result, the original aim to be objective in criticism is lost in favour of the

propagation of white, English values in literature. This causes the marginalisation of other

non-white authors, causing the study of literature to be saturated with literature that primarily

discusses English subject matter. To illustrate this an example of Things Fall Apart by Chinua

Achebe could be used, a postcolonial novel that depicts a fictional story of the protagonist,

Okonkwo, falling in stature and losing meaning in his life due to the arrival of colonial

missionaries. Upon reading the story it is undeniable that it is a deeply poignant story of a man

losing meaning and purpose in his life as the traditional cultural values that dictated it have

begun to be replaced by Christian teachings. However, if one were to adopt Leavis’ highly rigid

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method of criticism, such a powerful postcolonial story that highlights African culture would be

lost as it could be easily dismissed by claiming it had no particular moral worth. In reality, this

would merely be an excuse to keep non-White authors away from academic study hence

silencing texts that depict non-English subject matter.

In conclusion, the rigid stance which Leavis takes results in a stagnation of progress in literature

and uses the objectivity of liberal humanism as a guise to retain English power and to further

the canonically recognised white narrative.

5. Yes, I would choose liberal humanism to be taught to lower secondary school students.

Liberal humanism assumes that there is a universal core to human experience and prioritises

the role of the human in making meaning of the text. No emphasis is placed on external

contexts such as social, historical, cultural or economical. In fact, to fully understand the text a

detachment from context and any resultant assumptions is necessary. Instead a greater focus is

placed on the language used in texts and the relation of it to the human experience. For lower

secondary students, who are unfamiliar with Literature, cultivating a habit of close reading

would be beneficial in their future literary endeavours. Ultimately, regardless of the literary

criticism any study of Literature would foreground the usage of language. By discounting other

external contexts and framing the text as a self-containing object, students would have to pay

closer attention to the words, forming an imperative foundation of literary skills.

Furthermore, liberal humanism upholds the importance of themes as it assumes that good

literature transcends space and time. As themes inevitably link all texts together, it provides a

fundamental base for literary analysis as students can link their own experiences to the text,

hence eliminating or decreasing any initial apprehension with literature. As they gain more

knowledge in Literature, eventually themes set the base for another crucial characteristic of

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literature — inter-textuality. Using the prior knowledge about human condition acquired from

the study of themes, eventually they would be able to observe the links between various

characters through the lens of themes.

Eventually, after attuning themselves to the importance of words in literature and acquiring

broad insights about the human condition, students would be primed to grapple with literature

involving topics of greater complexity which centre on principles apart from the human.

Therefore, I believe that I would adopt liberal humanism to be taught to lower secondary

school students

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CR2 – Repetition in ROTD (Final Response)

1. The extract discusses repetition in two manners of relevance – firstly, to the

understanding of Stevens whereby it is used to highlight the reimagination of his memories in

order to construct meaning and secondly, to the reader who is forced to rationalise with the

non-linear progression of the text by relooking at Steven’s accounts. To the first point repetition

reveals his convoluted and forgone love life with Ms Kenton and the essence that governs

Steven’s life – professional dignity – thus highlighting the ritualism associated with his

profession. As a tool for understanding, repetition reveals the neo-feudalism that Stevens’

subscribes to from the tragically liminal position of a butler as he can neither reap the benefits

of the upper class nor rebel against the status quo like the middle class. Ultimately, the extract

posits that Stevens truly realises the loss he has suffered only towards the end – his chance at

love and his own personhood.

2. Repetition reflects the malleability of memory and the act of remembering which in turn

highlight the self-serving nature of Stevens’ narration, hence rendering it unreliable. This is best

exemplified in the repeated motif of the mist that Stevens encounters on his motoring trip. The

reader is first introduced to the mist in the morning of the second day of his trip when he

arrives at Salisbury. After parting the curtains of his room at his residence, “something of a mist

was affecting [his] view…” While at first glance, the mist appears to be an insignificant

description of his surroundings it soon morphs into a signpost of his foggy memory highlighting

the difficulty of establishing meaning to the past. Indeed this notion is lent greater relevance as it

is repeated at different instances of his journey, with the change in context ultimately changing

the role of the mist as well – particularly as Stevens begins to dwell on the painful memory of

his failed love-life with Ms Kenton during the evening of the third day. As his petrol begins to

run out, Stevens attempts to travel to a roadside inn for some temporary lodging. As he makes

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his way towards it, he observes “a mist [that] was rolling across [his] path.” As he approaches

closer to this destination, the “mist grow[s] ever thicker”. Upon reaching his residence at the

Taylor’s, he begins to reminisce about his romantic encounters with Ms Kenton as he tries to

examine why their “relationship underwent such a change”. Before beginning his description in

great detail, he claims that he “may be getting confused with the time she attempted the same

thing years earlier.” Furthermore, he remains “confused in believing” that she entered his room

that particular evening to “introduce flowers to [his] pantry.” The confusion that blankets his

memory of his interaction with Ms Kenton depicts the influence of the mist in the narration of

Stevens’ past beginning to increase as he moves towards more sensitive and emotionally-laden

incidents in his life. He deliberately attempts to use his confusion as an excuse for failing to fully

confront it. This obscuring of the past is exemplified in the usage of free direct speech in the

ensuing flirtatious banter with Ms Kenton. As the reader observes Ms Kenton almost tease

Stevens by accusing him of reading a book with “the most racy of passages” which she had

“never had the nerve to look at”, it is obvious that the scene is charged with sexual tension.

This understanding is furthered by the fact that Ms Kenton arrives to give Stevens “a vase of

flowers” which are a symbol of female sexuality – a clear indicator of Ms Kenton’s intentions of

a romantic relationship with Stevens. Therefore, it is his emotions towards this obvious sexual

tension that Stevens attempts to obscure by leaving the reader doubtful about the specific tone

used during the exchange. Through his hazy memory he appears to be oblivious of Ms Kenton’s

attempts at romance, therefore hiding the fact that he is actually not emotionally mature

enough to confront his lost opportunity at love. It is this attempt to obscure his emotions that

make his narration centrally unreliable as during moments of crucial emotional significance he

makes his narration deliberately opaque. The mist forces the reader to consider as well what is

truly clouding his memory and perception of the past; more specifically whether Stevens

chooses to actively deceive himself or if he is truly unsure about his memories. Either way, it

exemplifies the general sense of confusion that undergirds Stevens’ narration as it forces the

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reader to peer beyond the superficial meaning of his words and explore the implications of

what remains unsaid.

Secondly, the repeated use of qualifiers and overly formal language reflects Stevens’

nonlinear and roundabout method of narration. This links to the the confusion elicited by the

motif of the mist as he is selective and evasive in the way he remembers and narrates the past

which compels the reader to focus on what remains unsaid to decipher Stevens’ intentions. This

convoluted narration begins even before his journey during the prologue, as he grapples with

Mr Farraday’s suggestion. The prologue is narrated such that it uses excessive amounts of

formal language. While the formal language is a hallmark of his professional career as a proper

English butler, it’s over-usage suggests his cautiousness. Specifically, the way in which he

repeatedly refers to his motoring trip as an “expedition”, hence elevating it to a grand

experience of great discovery and exploration when in fact it is merely a motoring journey. The

repetition of this overly formal term suggests that he in fact may have some apprehensions

regarding his journey which causes to have a greater presence in his mind. This anxiety is

artfully concealed by the fairly dense language which overwhelms the reader, hence making

them oblivious to the subtle indicators of his true intentions. In addition to the formal language,

qualifiers are used excessively throughout the novel. Going back to his reflections on his

flirtatious interaction with Ms Kenton in his parlour, Stevens attempts to defend being caught

reading a “sentimental love story.” While his reasoning appears to be fairly sound and

reasonable at face value (he found such books to be “an extremely efficient way to maintain and

develop one’s command of the English language” – a quality he found imperative to professional

success as a butler), upon inspecting the usage of qualifiers in his lengthy defense, it directly

contradicts his “simple” professional reason. Specifically, towards the end of his defense where

he says that he did “not mind confessing today – and I see nothing to be ashamed of in this –

that I did at times gain a sort of incidental enjoyment from these stories.” This shocking and

contradictory confession to having emotional and romantic reasons behind reading such a book

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after nearly a page of purely professional reasons serves to aptly highlight the overall

contradictory nature of his narration. The usage of the qualifier, “and I see nothing to be

ashamed of in this”, ironically leads to the implication that he felt the need to justify his “lack of

shame” allowing us to conclude that he in fact was ashamed. And it is this repetitive dramatic

irony that Stevens’ narration is fraught with, that ultimately make his narration unreliable.

3. I believe that Stevens has been subconsciously aware of what he has sacrificed from the

beginning. This is apparent upon analysis of Stevens’ initial motivations of going on the motoring

journey. While he initially appears hesitant, the key factor that convinces Stevens to embark on

the journey is “the arrival of Ms Kenton’s letters, her first one in almost seven years…” This

letter forms the core purpose of Stevens’ trip as is further elaborated. After a lengthy

explanation of how Ms Kenton’s letter affected his decision, ultimately he interprets that in the

letter from Ms Kenton contained “along with its long, rather unrevealing passages, an

unmistakeable nostalgia for Darlington Hall”. Hence, “Ms Kenton [...] was just the factor needed

to enable [Stevens] to complete a fully satisfactory staff plan”. This sets up the apparent

justification that Stevens gives as he uses the nostalgia in the letter to construct a sense of

longing that Ms Kenton would have had. This would allow him to use the expedition as a

justification to visit Ms Kenton and ask her to return to Darlington Hall for purely professional

reasons. However, what is most crucial to note is that all of Steven’s interpretations stem from

that one letter. Due to it’s textual nature, it is inherently open to interpretation as is the past

(and resultant sense of nostalgia) that the letter reflects. Hence, any action that Stevens takes

from the letter is a product of his own interpretation as he imposes his own nostalgia for the

olden days of Darlington Hall onto Ms Kenton. In doing so, Stevens displays an understanding of

what he has sacrificed in two ways right at the beginning of the novel – firstly in his intention to

reconcile with Ms Kenton and potentially rescue the relationship, which reflects his personal

sacrifice and secondly in his longing to return to relive his prime years as a butler to establish

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the importance of his role as a butler, which reflects his professional short-comings and

insecurities. This imposition is more directly confronted during the morning of the second day,

as he discusses Ms Kenton’s love life after leaving Darlington Hall, through the usage of dramatic

irony. He asserts that “she is pondering with regret decisions made in the far-off past”.

However, this is directly contradictory to the fact that “she does not at any point in her letter

state explicitly her desire to return.” It is Stevens himself therefore that is ‘filling in the gaps’ of

her letter as he projects his own “regrets” onto Ms Kenton. The final quote that most

powerfully displays his understanding of his sacrifice is when he concludes that working at

Darlington Hall would “offer a very genuine consolation to a life that has come to be dominated

by a sense of waste”. This jarring demeaning statement that is said with such a nonchalant tone

is rich in dramatic irony as the very thing he attributes to Ms Kenton (such as a desire for

consolation and a return to a familiar environment) is in actuality apt for himself – something

that he chooses to ignore but ultimately peeks through. As such, it displays Stevens’

subconscious understanding of what he has forfeited as it is from this that he derives his deeply

ironic projections.

4. Yes, the novel presents Stevens in a sympathetic light.

Firstly it does so by presenting Stevens’ life as deeply tragic which can be observed from

the beginning of the play during the prologue. While Mr Farraday tries to convince Stevens’ to

embark on the motoring journey he remarks to Stevens saying that he “[doesn’t] expect [him]

to be locked up here in this house…” The diction of “locked up” suggest that Darlington Hall is

a prison where Stevens is held captive in. While to most the idea of being entrapped by your

profession is actively avoided, as shown by Mr Farraday’s insistence of Stevens to “get out of the

house for a few days”, Stevens embraces this entrapment as he claims to have “see[n] the best

of England … within these very walls”. Therefore, this suggests right from the beginning that

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Stevens is a willing prisoner who traps himself with his unyielding loyalty to his employer, both

of the present (Mr Farraday) and more influentially of the past (Lord Darlington). This

interaction forms the base of Stevens’ tragic life as this ardent loyalty is what forces him to

sacrifice an aspect of his personal life. No event is more pertinent to this than 1923 conference,

which he regards as a “turning point” of his career. It is during this conference that he seeks to

emulate the “dignity”, which he defines as a “butler’s ability not to abandon the professional

being he inhabits” while concluding three stories of his father’s display of dignity. In some way

therefore, Stevens seeks to emulate this ability of his father’s to remain poise and professional in

the face of personal defeat during the conference so he too can prove to himself that he is a

“great butler”. In this lies Stevens’ deep-rooted insecurity as he equates his professional success

to success as a whole and is hence obsessed with justifying his career as one that was truly

impactful. However, as the conference progresses, in striving to live up to the image of his

father, he ironically rejects his father in favour of his professional career. While arranging for the

bandages on M. Dupont’s feet to be changed, Stevens receives news from a footman that his

“father had been taken ill upstairs.” Upon arriving upstairs he sees his father “frozen” while

having dropped “down on to one knee and with head bowed seemed to be pushing at [his]

trolley”. This visual imagery is deeply meaningful as it illustrates literal servitude, in the form of

bowing, to his father’s profession, which is represented by the trolley. The diction of

“ceremonial ritual” draws a parallel between religion and the servitude of Butlerism. As Stevens

observes his father, the man who he strives to be in the professional realm, “frozen” “in front of

the large window” from the “far end of the corridor”, it almost serves to foreshadow his life as

he is bound in static servility which renders him unable to focus on anything else. And indeed,

on the path to mimic the professional glory of his father, he rejects him in favour of “find[ing]

M. Dupont some fresh bandages” to ease his pain rather than spending time with his father in

his last hours. Hence, in the name of excessive dignity and loyalty, and in aspiring to be like his

father, he tragically has to let go of him, displaying the detrimental effects of the prioritization of

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his profession that elicits sympathy for him. What truly makes it tragic however, is that he is

forced to accept this sacrifice as if it were natural for this is the only way for him to fulfil his

duty towards Lord Darlington and as Stevens defines the meaning of his life by his professional

success, failing to fulfil his duties ultimately renders his entire life to be meaningless. The

continual tragedy present in Stevens’ life as he is forced to sacrifice his personal relationship for

his career therefore portrays him as a sympathetic figure.

The second way in which the novel presents Stevens in a sympathetic light is his

emotional stuntedness. Throughout the novel Stevens demonstrates a painful inability to reason

with his emotions as a result of his overcommitment to the professional aspect of his life. This

causes him to be unfamiliar with non-professional relationships specifically with Ms Kenton. The

instance where he attempts to comfort her after the death of her aunt is a key example. In this

moment he exits her parlour in order to give her some space while she grieves her aunt.

However, upon realising that he had not offered her his condolences he contemplates returning

back to her parlour to do so. While deciding, he acknowledges that it was “not impossible that

Miss Kenton was actually crying.” The use of the double negative “not impossible” serves to put

the focus of the description on the impossibility reflecting Stevens’ lack of familiarity in

expressing his grief through acts of vulnerability such as crying. In fact, he finds this thought to

make him feel “strange”, “causing [him] to stand there hovering…” This reflects once again his

indecisive and hesitant nature brought on by his lack of familiarity with emotion as for Stevens

he finds that his professional role is one that must be “inhabit[ed]” and that in only “one

situation [may a] butler who cares about his dignity feel free to unburden himself of his role …

when he is entirely alone.” This pitiful imagery highlights how he is deprived of this emotionally

maturity as he is forced to perform as a poise and stoic professional figure which does not allow

him to fully confront or recognise his emotions. Rather he must fully be a butler at all times,

never being able to let his guard down. Hence, his emotive responses are a carefully crafted

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facade created to suit the professional aspect of his life rather than a product of personal

growth. This equation of personal care to professional concern reaches an awkward climax as

he attempts to provide comfort to Ms Kenton in the dining room. However, instead of assuring

her or calming her down he provides criticism on her management of the new recruits claiming

that she had been “remiss in this aspect.” Hence, his attempt to console inevitably links back to

his professionalism as that is all he has been familiar with. And so tragically once again, his

over-commitment to his job causes him to be emotionally under-developed as he is forced to

replace his innate human-ness with a facade of perfection and poise that he himself propagates.

Therefore, he can be seen as a sympathetic figure.

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CR3 – Marxist Literary Criticism (Final Response)

1. Text 1 asserts 2 positions – the first is that literature remains constrained and trapped

by ideology, forever being subsumed by it even in attempts to criticize it. The second is that

literature is able to “challenge[s] the ideology it confronts” and it “yield[s] us insights into the

realities which ideology hides from view.” Upon doing a Marxist interpretation of the Remains

of The Day (ROTD), position 1 is more convincing.

Studying the context of production of ROTD, the author, Kazuo Ishiguro, aims to reveal how

“nostalgia for a time [of Britain] that didn’t exist” could be used as a “political tool”. Hence,

Ishiguro aims to critique the nostalgia industry that profits off an idyllic portrayal of Britain.

Following this, there is also a larger critique of capitalism and neoliberalism which was the key

ideology of Thatcherism in 1980’s Britain. It attempts to do so by using the concept of “dignity”

to represent and critique Thatcherist principles whereby the individual has responsibility and

agency for his own life. The novel highlights the pitiable extent to which Stevens is reified due to

his over-commitment to being dignified, to the point where his professional commitments

subsume his entire life even in favour of a loving relationship with Ms Kenton or time with his

father during his last moments. However, even this professional commitment is one of waste, as

his entire career was dedicated to that of a Nazi sympathiser – Lord Darlington. Hence when

he attempts to comfort himself by turning towards his nostalgic professional past, he realises

that even that commitment was futile, and the ideology that had governed his entire life was

flawed. Towards the end of the novel, he comes to the jarring realisation that he is merely “part

of the package” and a slave to the nostalgia industry as his myth of a glorious past is eroded and

his only position remains as a performer of British nostalgia in service of capitalism.

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However, this criticism of capitalism is largely unsuccessful, making position 1 more convincing.

Firstly, Ishiguro is forced to participate in the very free market he critiques in order to sell

copies of his book, to spread his criticism of the nostalgia industry. Yet, in having to cater to this

audience and to the whims of capitalism, an inclusion of nostalgic British scenery such as lush

country-sides and quaint villages with polite people are necessary. In doing so, his criticism

against British nostalgia for the benefit of capitalism is severely undermined as he too is forced

to be subservient to the tourism industry and its nostalgic ideology. Furthermore, although

Ishiguro highlights how nostalgia can be used politically, and that it is ultimately a construct of

the past, ROTD itself has become entangled in the web of nostalgia, with copies of ROTD being

sold at the end of tours of country manors in England. Furthermore, it always remains

subsumed by the universal liberal humanist messaging of unfulfilled love with Ms Kenton, hence

highlighting the pervasiveness of liberal humanist ideology as Ishiguro himself is never fully able

to “step out” of it in order to thoroughly critique it. Therefore, the text remains forever

trapped by ideology and can even be seen as supporting it in the way that the text functions as a

pressure-valve. The implied reader of the text is assumed to be middle-class and more

specifically educated in analysis of language. Without this, understanding the complexities of the

novel’s politics is impossible. Hence, even though the book questions and undermines the class

system, its readers are largely the educated bourgeoisie, making the text’s critique futile as it

can never be acted upon.

2. Macherey argues that the text is “ideologically forbidden to say certain things” and

because of this is always “incomplete”, displaying a “conflict and contradiction of meanings” due

to ideology. As explored in Text 1, ROTD remains largely subservient to the dominant

ideologies of capitalism and liberal humanism. Because of this, there remain certain “gaps and

absences”. However, by reading against this liberal humanist interpretation, we, the critic, are

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able to provide an alternative interpretation that contradicts the liberal humanist interpretation,

creating a conflict in meaning that reveals “the work’s relation to ideology”. The resulting

conflict in meaning is what Macherey refers to as a “de-centred” meaning.

Beginning with a liberal humanist interpretation, we observe the portrayal of Stevens and

interactions with Stevens as a critique of capitalism and neoliberalism. It uses Stevens’

over-dedication to his professional career as well as his pursuit for importance to English affairs

by assimilation with the aristocratic gentry as a critique of the performativity of capitalism. As

evinced by Stevens’ obsession with the proper clothing in the prologue of the novel, as well him

failing to correct Mr Taylor after getting mistaken as a “gentleman.” He attributes his

gentlemen-ness to “something else that marks [him] out as” such and claims that it is “plain for

all to see that’s got eyes.” From this, two things can be concluded, the first is that Stevens

deliberately strives towards this gentleman status and secondly that he appears to possess

essential and unique characteristics that frame him as such. This is made clearer by the

juxtaposition of him and Mr Lindsay. Both Harry Smith and Mr Taylor agree that “he was no

gentleman [...] he had [...] good suits, but somehow you just knew,” putting the emphasis once

again on Mr Lindsay’s human characteristics rather than on his material possessions. The focus

remains therefore primarily on the agency of the human, which is the supreme determinant of

gentleman status.

However, upon doing a marxist and post-marxist interpretation, it is clear that the privileging of

the human is arbitrary. In fact, it is the societal forces and the material practices that Stevens

participates in that compel Stevens to make the choices that he does, instead of individual

agency. He is ultimately chained to his liminal position as a butler forever despite his superficial

attempts to get closer to the “hub” (morally superior aristocrats) of the “wheel” that he

describes. This is exemplified in the ways that he is repeatedly demeaned and dehumanised as a

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performing monkey first by the Wakefields and secondly for guests of Lord Darlington. In both

instances, the subject position of a butler that he occupies causes him to be a subject of

ridicule, humiliation and commodification.

From this, a conflict in meaning results, where the reader remains in doubt whether Stevens

chooses to be overly committed in his work or whether his hand is forced to do so. With both

interpretations becoming equally plausible, there exists a ‘free space’ of meaning, both in

conflict with each other. The existence of such a conflict exists ultimately due the pervasiveness

of liberal humanism even in its criticism, with alternate interpretations required to truly

highlight the effects of such an ideology. In addition, Ishiguro is forced to adopt the humanist

view while writing the novel because, as discussed in Question 1, he too is forced to remain

subservient and acknowledge the capitalist ideology that dominates the production and

publication of the novel.

3. As Rafflesians, our lives remain undergirded by rituals and practices organised by the

school that ultimately interpellate us towards the ideal subject position of the “Rafflesian”. The

conformity associated with this subject position is exemplified in a series of material practices in

which students believe they have individual agency in choosing to participate in them. However,

instead of choosing to participate in these material practices because they are Rafflesian, they

participate in them due to the pursuit of conforming to “Rafflesian-ness”. Hence, it is not their

identity that pushes them to participate in them but rather the participation that builds identity.

Yet, students are disillusioned form this reality as the insidious effects of the ideology that

actually beckons them to participate in these materials practices, are masked by terms such as

“school spirit” and “standards” which naturalises an undying commitment to the school.

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This brings me to an instance of interpellation that takes place as soon as Rafflesians enter

Raffles Institution (RI) – Orientation Camp (or O-Camp for short). While at first glance it

appears to be a welcoming experience for all new Rafflesians, it deceptively combines the

repressive state apparatus (RSA), in the form of prefects — that are innocently disguised as

Peer Support Leaders (PSLs) — that facilitate the whole activity and discipline students and the

ideological state apparatus (ISA), in an unwavering over-emphasis on Rafflesian “standards”, all

under the premise of a material practice. The first thing that occurs at the beginning and

throughout the camp is a blitz of standards during which students are almost brainwashed into

upholding the FIRE values (Fortitude, Integrity, Resilience and Enterprise), hence seeding the ISA

that is the foundation of their whole student life. This is done during material practices such as

formal addresses by the Year Head or Head Boy or during informal conversations with the PSLs

as well. Often done in large group settings such as halls and auditoriums, these values (ISA) are

drilled into them during these mass addresses beckoning new Rafflesians to conform to them by

portraying it as normal and expected of a Rafflesian. The diction of “values” continues this as it

portrays the ideology of Rafflesianess to be divine or sacred. The failure to uphold them

therefore appears sacrilegious and further pressures students to assume the subject position of

a Rafflesian.

The self-proclaimed pinnacle of the camp however, is the Junior Rafflesian Investiture Ceremony

(JRIC), where after appearing to have successfully performed Rafflesian-ness they are officially

inducted through another material practice of a badge-pinning ceremony. This comes as the

ultimate affirmation of Rafflesian identity, where the powerful (school administration, prefects

etc) finally deem students to have sufficiently conformed, by rejecting their individual identities

in favour of the subject position of the ideal Rafflesian. In this ceremony, staff wear overly formal

clothing and most crucially ceremonial gowns, while each student gets a school emblem pinned

onto their clothing. A cult-like aura seems to surround the ceremony, with objects such as

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badges and gowns being a material symbol of the veneration of Rafflesian behaviour. The badge

is in fact required to be worn on the students’ person at all times, a constant physical reminder

of the ideological commitment they have in the subject position of a Rafflesian. Failing to do so

is even punished by prefects (who have been previously established to be a form of RSA in RI) in

the form of bookings, implicitly conveying that being accepting of Rafflesian “obligat[ions]” is an

obligation in and of itself.

One could even argue that the over-usage of acronyms in the orientation process (“FIRE

values”, “O-Camp”, “JRIC”, “PSLs”) causes a subconscious othering of those that are not from

RI as the deliberate veil of mystery that shrouds the process creates an incomplete portrayal of

Raffles Institution, the true truth of which only those “in the know” would be aware of. The

desire to be “in the know” is another driver of the process by which mere students are

transformed into Rafflesians.

4. The reality effect involves the construction of a supposed real or authentic reality by a

text rather than just “an appearance of reality.” It presents a reality that appears to be realistic

by comparison to the fiction-effect which is obviously fictive. Literature therefore is not fiction

but a “produ[cer] of fiction-effects”, determining what is and is not fiction through

genre-specific tropes or elements of the story that can be concluded to be fictive based on the

created reality of the text. In the case of Cinderella which is a fairy tale, the fiction-effect can be

observed in the fantastical elements of the story such as the Fairy Godmother, the pumpkin

that turns into a carriage and the expiry of this magic at midnight exactly. Furthermore, the

escape from her torment at home by her stepsisters through marrying Prince Charming at the

end of the story paints an overly “ideal image of romantic love” and how it can “prevail no

matter the odds” providing a source of comfort. In today’s world however, we find such a

conclusion to be overly idealistic and therefore too good to be true. Hence, the fiction-effect is

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observed in the manner in which Cinderella is saved by true love as well as in the obviously

magical elements. However, from a humanist perspective the story does deal ultimately with the

universal emotion of love and the thematic insight that love will always prevail. The resilience of

Cinderella, having put up with the taunting and torments of her step-family, ultimately seems to

pay off – albeit in the form of fictional magical and idealistic elements. As love, resilience, and

optimism are emotions that we are all familiar with in our daily lives, possibly through other

works of Literature, there is a creation of a reality effect as there exists a level of authenticity

due to the thematic insight of the story and its verisimilitude.

This brings us to the second quote that “fiction and realism are not the concepts for the

production of literature but on the contrary the notions produced by literature.” This

conclusion seeks to argue a cause-effect reversal between Literature and the perception we

have of “fictional” works and “realistic” works. Instead of Literature being influenced by the

ideologies present in the reality (context of production) it is written in, it is Literature that

influences the perception of what is considered realistic and consequently what is fictional. It

does so in order to sustain its own ideological nature by interpellating readers into a subject

position that consumes these apparently realistic narratives and realities. The readers, having

consumed the realities with a humanist outlook, understands the values/morals discussed in the

text to be natural, universal and transcendental of space and time.

The example of the thematic insight of the story of Cinderella remains as a key example as

readers believe the power of true love to really be universal and more importantly linked to

their own lives and realities. They therefore remain oblivious to the true ideological workings

behind the supposed story of true love. A crucial example of this would be the way that the

well-meaning narrative of Cinderella has become a source of great profit for companies such as

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Disney, who are able to sell merchandise such as princess costumes and amusement park

tickets to consumers who are unaware of their own exploitation by capitalism.

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CR5 – Foucault and Power (Final Response)

Q1 Foucault’s conception of power/knowledge in essence claims that the things one knows

to be true are mediated by bodies of knowledge, also known as disocurse, and are therefore

symptomatic of power’s grip. These bodies of knowledge are a product of various social forces

from elit institutions such as churches and universities. The author of the letter demonstrates

this through their attempt at assimilating into Western culture and ways of life during their

academic journey at Cambridge – an elite Western university with a rich and globally recognised

cultural heritage. In her description of learning “versification”, which is the “study of form in

poetry” she claims to learn the “proper names for what you do [in poetry].” The diction of

“proper” places a matter-of-fact and objective “correctness” to the Western study of Literature

with a particular focus on the nomenclature that Western critics use. This nomenclature is

ultimately dictated by Cambridge university (“this is enjambment, this is anaphora, that is

isocolon.”) , where the author studies in, which is able to do so due to its position as an elite

university and contributor to literary studies. These definitions are then followed by other

universities, junior colleges and secondary schools around the world when they teach

Literature, further expanding what Foucault calls a body of knowledge or discourse. In doing so,

they continue to cement the legitimacy and “objective greatness” of elite institutions like

Cambridge which in its ability to create and promote a discourse of their choosing highlights

their power in academia.

Apart from this, the author also focuses on British slang and accents in the process of cultural

assimilation which displays the concept of power/knowledge in two ways — the specific

knowledge of being to imitate a British accent and use British slang and the knowledge that such

a method of speaking is considered to be superior. This is exemplified in the way that the

author seeks to imitate “a perfect standard English accent” like her classmates “Julie, from

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Ireland… Jonah from Manchester and Professor Davis, from Wales.” The usage of the adjectives

“perfect” and “standard” further extend the “correctness” associated with the English language

and way of life along with the way that it is considered to be the default method of speaking.

This highlights the extent to which this discourse is propagated not only by elite institutions like

Cambridge but also silently in everyday interactions almost as if it is taken for granted or

assumed, making it necessary to survive and therefore making the Western cultural paradigm

the “standard” way of living. The author sums it up best in the term “social polish” as if the

rough stains of non-Western life need to be buffed away in order to replicate and imitate the

Western way of life — “the good life.”

Q2 In Singpaore as a student a preference in placed on certain elite secondary schools, one

of which is Raffles Institution (RI) that heavily associates itself with Singapore’s colonial past, its

name being only the beginning. As a school, it is commonly believed to be the hallmark of a

successful Singaporean education along with other elite schools such the Anglo-Chinese School

(Independent) (ACS(I)) and St. Joseph’s Institution (SJI) that associate themselves with a religious

and more specificially Christian background, similar to British colonists that sought to spread

Christianity in colonised territories such as Africa. Furthermore, it was even used as a

justification for colonisation as a means to educate African tribes that were demeaningly

considered to be primitive by Western standards. While such a mentality is widely considered

to be problematic in modern society, elite schools such as RI that promote and profit of this

colonial legacy still sustain its idealisation as they portray education synonymous with a colonial

past to be the pinnacle of education. This sentiment is supported by Singaporeans, including

myself, who are complicit in this idealisation as they too continually strive to get the highest

possible Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE) scores in order to form a pipeline for a

“pilgrimage to pinnacles of Western civilisations” as the author of the ‘letter’ puts it. The

ultimate goal remains to assimilate with the rich (and decidedly richer) heritage of the British

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which therefore results in a greater rejection of one’s indigenous identity. Therefore, even after

Singapore remains free from the British on paper, the Western discourse remains thoroughly

imprinted in our definitions of academic success, resulting in the continuation of a colonial

legacy.

Q3 In her ‘letter’ the author puts forth the argument that overseas academic endeavours to

places like the UK, and more specifically elite schools such as Cambridge to act as “social

polish” — a way to rid oneself of the inferior upbringing that they may have received in

replacement for a superior British way of life. The “material investment” that Said speaks about

lies therefore in this action — the action of journeying to foreign lands in order to fulfill a

‘holistic’ education — and is coupled with the idealistion of “rich histories” of places such as the

UK to form a physical testament to the inferiority of the Orient. As such actions can only occur

by choice, after all attending an institution like Cambridge is not forced, the application of such

a framework is viewed as consensual and forms the “accepted grid for filtering through the

Orient into Western consciousness.” Such a sentiment continues during the author’s time

abroad as well as she learns “the name of trees and flower” as well as their implied literary

association (“rosemary for remembrance, hyacinth for constancy, poppies, which mark the War

Dead”). She comes to realise how “these flowers have a history that [her] flowers don’t” by

contrasting them with the local “bouganvilla” which she describes as “common [and]

roadside-dusty” with no grand literary significance. The diction of “common” contrasts starkly

with the meaningful and inherently valuable associations of flowers of the West, hence

continuing an inferiority complex of the East that demeans their own culture in exchange for a

foreigner’s one which again continues to justify the concept of Orientalism. The lack of

knowledge already of the significance of such flowers is just an example of the large-scale

normalisation by the West of being familiar with the Western body of knowledge. Failing which,

specifically by those of Asian descent, gives justification to Orientalism.

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Q4 The writer explores the acknowledgment of the silent effect of neo-colonialism as a way

to resist against coloniality. As a Literature student the most prevalent example that comes to

mind is the Western literary canon that is widely regarded as the pinnacle of texts that are

considered to be literary and prides itself on being an objective body of greatness. Taking

Shakespeare as an example, who is considered the best playwright of all time, his works and him

have been elevated to a godly status, analysed and praised daily by Literature students around

the world as they are considered to be the bedrock for the objective greatness that is the

canon. However upon closer inspection of the canon, it is clear that there is an advantage given

to straight, white, middle-class male authors in the recognition of their works, as authors of

colour, female authors and LGBTQ authors have been historically marginalised. As such, even in

Literature remains the prevalence of a colonial legacy that can be resisted against by realising

the ultimate myth that is an objective canon and by acknowledging that even that is fueled by a

white supremacist desire to consolidate and maintain power.

From this arises a somewhat obvious solution: read outside the canon. Crucial examples include

seminal post-colonial texts like Things Fall Apart and even Sing-Lit. However, such an exercise

ultimately ends up supporting the canon itself as in resisting canonical texts we do so while

trying to find a suitable literary and intellectual ‘equal’ to them. The Western cultural paradigm

still ends up being the metric of success for non-canonical texts which further acknowledges

the power of such a paradigm despite the obvious flaw in its objectivity. As the author of the

‘letter’ puts it, “merely claiming that ‘our’ art… is as beautiful or good as their Western

counterparts … begs the question of what we mean by ‘good’, or ‘beautiful’, or even by ‘art’.”

Ultimately such forms of resistance remain futile due to their inextricable link to colonialism.

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The writer therefore uses the term “decolonial” instead of “postcolonial”, as the reading or

writing of works that resist against colonialism simply cannot serve to fill in the ‘absence’ of

such texts due to colonialism. As long as they remain to repair some type of damage caused,

they always end up paradoxically supporting whatever it is they are trying to resist. After all, the

word “post-colonial” itself still uses colonisation as an anchoring point for the current state of

Literature that seeks to resist. Instead, texts that seek to highlight our heritage should stand

brazen and bold on their own. This complete separation from our colonial past is ironically the

only way to confront it as it proves that we are no longer hampered by it in our writing and are

able to remain fully “decolonial”. In the letter this is proposed to be achieved by “mov[ing]

towards a pluri-verse that gives dignity to both the girl in the pyjamas and the one in the little

black dress … in a way that … is not naive about the equality of the two…” In other words, the

author of the letter is pushing for a state of relativism to be achieved in which all texts are

bound to some individual or group of individuals while eliminating of objective or universal

truths, that are more often than not, not universal at all but rather eurocentric. This not only

bridges the gap between Western and non-Western literature but also eliminates the gap

entirely, creating a plural and free space of meaning that is free from domination by Western

ideals of depth as there is no concept of depth to begin with.

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CR6 – Literature & History (Final Response)

Q1. The history of Raffles Institution (RI) can be likened to an archetypal romance in which

Sir Stamford Raffles can be seen as a saviour figure that seeks to bring high quality education to

Singapore after its colonisation by the British. Using the Raffles Archives & Museum (RAM)

website as reference, it is stated that “one of [Raffles’] most magnificent dreams was an

educational institution where young men of Singapore and Malaya would be educated not only

in their language and culture but also in the best English tradition.” Therefore, there appears a

desire for Raffles to dignify and anglicize the indigenous regions of Singapore through education

in Raffles Institution. The “damsel in distress” trope can be seen here insofar that Singapore’s

education system appears to be weak and lacking on its own as well as desperate for a saviour.

Indeed a saviour does arrive with the usage of yet another trope – “the knight in shining

armour”. Overcoming initial financial difficulties by forming a “Board of Trustees”, Raffles is able

to begin his “rescue” of Singapore. However, 6 months after construction starts, “the Trustees

… ran out of money to complete the building” After engaging a new architect, the first campus

of RI was finally built in “December 1838”, a full 15 years after construction began. Despite

further challenges down the road however, Raffles’ spirit of providing high quality elite

education continues to live on as under the tenure of Richmond William Hullett, RI begins to

flourish, and at the end of his tenure in 1906, “he succeeded in raising the overall standard of

the school and oversaw its transformation from an institution for general education to a high

school accepting the top students from ‘feeder schools’ in various parts of Singapore.” The

pinnacle of this however is exemplified in the increase in Queen’s Scholars. While started in

1885, it was terminated in 1902 following Queen Victoria’s death only to be restarted in 1923.

After which, RI’s dominance in academic achievement had been crystal clear with a “succesion

of Queen’s Scholars” namely “Maggie Tan (Tan Thoon Lip’s sister, in 1930), Chua Seng Chew

and Liew Swee Cheng (1931), Tan Sim Eng and Thora Oehlers (1932), B. H. Meggs (1933),

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Ahmad bin Mohd. Ibrahim (1935), Lim Hong Bee and Chia Kim Chwee (1936), Emily Sadka

(1937), and Lim Kok Ann and Lee Lian Chye (1938).” After years of toil while he was alive, the

posthumous influence of Raffles remained which pushed RI to be able to achieve at the highest

level, to be recognised and commended by the West and the British. Ultimately, Raffles can be

seen as a knight in shining armour that successfully freed Singapore from the metaphorical

tower of ignorance by laying the foundation for one of the most elite institutions before the

outbreak of WW2. The intended “story” of RI that Raffles wanted ends therefore on a positive

and resounding note, with his dreams for an elite institution ultimately being realised despite

the odds.

Q2. White argues that in any form of emplotment is impossible to escape the arbitrary

privileging of certain key events, hence granting them “explanatory force.” These emplotments,

according to him appear to “appeal to plot structures of a distinctly fictional sort” ie they

appear to take on the form of literary genres. This is done in order to “endow the series with a

perceivable form and a conceivable “meaning””, with “meaning” being put in quotation marks.

White therefore seeks to argue that such an emplotment of events is inherently constructed,

lacking an objective truth that can be reliably accessed. As a remedy, he presents the chronicle –

a recording of events simply in the order in which they occurred. Yet, even this is an admittedly

“naive” form as it presupposes that “the categories of time and space alone served as the

informing interpretative principles.” In order to remedy this, quotations are added to this

chronological emplotment in order to indicate that there is a distinct sense of irony. By drawing

attention to the fact that even this emplotment, is still not free from the naivety that comes

with assuming that chronological emplotments are truly faithful to their temporal arrangement,

the addition of quotation marks allows White to use this pure form of chronicle as it is aware

of its naivety in denying the unreliability of chronology. In doing so, he is able to counter the

“false or overemplotted counterparts” of the pure chronicle and can show that “the conscious

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interpretation of the events [have] nothing other than seriality as their meaning.” as the reader

is already made aware of the ironic unreliability of this emplottment despite its chronology. In

the case of the history of RI described in 1(a), the addition of quotation marks could serve as a

reminder that although I am asserting that my history of RI is true and valid, it can never be so

at an objective level. Fundamentally, there exists no perfect chronicle to be written about RI’s

history and the usage of quotation marks reveals this historiographical deficiency to the reader.

As such, it provides a self-reflexive commentary about the reliability of my emplotment,

prompting skepticism from the reader and an indication that my emplotment can never be one

of pure chronicle and that such a notion, even if it arises inadvertently through my emplotment

of the events in RI’s history, is definitely naive. By acknowledging this, it allows readers to be

aware that what they are reading can never be the full and total historical truth, increasing the

reliability of the emplotment.

Q3. In The Remain of The Day (ROTD), Stevens uses a series of metaphors to describe his

position as a butler relative to the world and the influence of his past contributions in this

capacity. The metaphor of the wheel in particular illustrates how Stevens constitutes his

professional contributions as an element of a grand narrative about his life. During the

afternoon of the second day of his trip, Stevens mentions the metaphor of the wheel, stating

that “the world was a wheel, revolving with these great houses at the hub, their might decisions

emanating out to all else” and that “it was the aspiration of all those of us with professional

ambition to work our way as close to this hub.” In this metaphor, Stevens effectively presents a

more modern version of the Great Chain of Being, that dictates a strict hierarchy between

land-owning gentry and servants, directly explicating that his life revolves around the

maintenance of this rigid hierarchy in service of gentry such as Lord Darlington. In fact, at the

end of the chapter, when he reflects on his career in service to Lord Darlington, he claims that

“to have served his lordship… during those years was to come as close to the hub of this

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world’s wheel as one such I could ever have dreamt.” The highly dramatised metaphor of the

wheel combined with his overall tone of veneration towards Lord Darlington, reflects how

Stevens emplots the events of his life with respect to how close he comes to the hub, making

this the key narratorial element of his construction of his past. Therefore, White’s assertion is

supported by ROTD as the figurative language that Stevens uses is a crucial part of how he

views his professional successes and failures as well as describes and assesses his past.

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Citations:

“Early Days: Vision and Reality.” RAMpage, 14 July 2016,


rafflesrampage.wordpress.com/early-days-vision-and-reality/.

“Educational Reform: RI as Singapore’s First High School.” RAMpage, 21 Jan. 2016,


rafflesrampage.wordpress.com/educational-reform-ri-as-singapores-first-high-school/.

“The Post War Years.” RAMpage, 21 Jan. 2016,


rafflesrampage.wordpress.com/the-post-war-years/.

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CR7 – Postmodernism (Final Response)

Q1. The key difference between parody and pastiche is illustrated is the presence of what

Jameson calls an “ulterior motive” which is found in parody. Jameson writes that “parody

capitalises on the uniqueness of these styles and seizes on their idiosyncrasies and eccentricities

to produce an imitation which mocks the original,” with “these styles” referring to the styles

invented by great modernist writers. These modernist styles act as an ‘anchoring point’ for

parody – an original piece of work or style that can then be mocked for their “excessiveness

and eccentricity” in the first place through exaggeration. Therein lies the presence of a “satirical

impulse” in parody which Jameson discusses that seeks to draw attention to the difference

between the excessiveness of one text by using ‘normal’ language. This is however absent in

pastiche as it exists not to mock but simply to imitiate the aforementioned “original” styles.

A key example of the difference between pastiche and parody can be seen in the musical works

of Alfred Matthew Yankovic – who’s internet moniker is “Weird Al”, or just “Al”, Yankovic.

Taking one of his most popular songs “White and Nerdy” as an example it is apparent that it

intends to mock the original referent which is “Ridin’ Dirty” by Chamillionaire. While a cover of

the song “Ridin’ Dirty” would merely be a form of pastiche that faithfully recreates the original

work with the purpose of reverence and elevation, the comedic spin of Al Yankovic’s parody is

what separates the two. The subtle rhyme between “Ridin’ Dirty” and “White and Nerdy” for

example already reveals the obvious comedic twist being put on the original song and the play

on words foreshadows the mockery to come. However, it becomes increasingly more apparent

upon comparing the lyrics of the two songs. “White and Nerdy” parodies the elements of

gangster culture illustrated in “Ridin’ Dirty” such as escaping from prejudiced targeting by the

police (“they see me rolling/ they hatin’/ patrollin’ and tryna catch me ridin’ dirty”). These

elements are instead replaced with stereotypical depictions of the comparatively innocent and

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docile activities of the caucasian male character that is taken from Al’s real life experience

(“They see me mowin’/ my front lawn…First in my class here at MIT/ Got skills I’m a champion

at DnD”). The contrast between gritty gang culture with amusing, innocent and geeky nerd

culture and stereotypes results in the humour present in Al Yankovic’s parody. Furthermore, at

a larger level it has become a hallmark of the rap genre to discuss darker subject matter, and

hence the usage of it to illustrate such harmless activities reveals the genre-specific

“eccentrities” present as well. However, what if as Jameson suggests there is a lack of a

“normal language… [and] linguistic norm,” to which parody can anchor itself onto? Where

there is no eccentricity to ridicule or draw notice to? This is where, as the title of the

paragraph suggests “pastiche eclipses parody,” and it becomes impossible to imitate or bring

attention to the stylistic eccentrities of a work without being naive about the fact that there lies

no norm to parody. What we are left with is an impossibility to achieve originality in

parody-makig and the creation of “stylistic diversity and heterogeneity” which results in the lack

of the distinct sense of universality and monolithic stylistic concreteness that parody requires.

Pastiche therefore acts as a modern day remedy to parody, as it does not presuppose any

norms but rather acknowledges the fact that there is a lack of a “normal” referent. It is a

“neutral practice” that lacks parody’s “ulterior motive” as there remains nothing for it to

humour, mock or satirise.

Q2. “Pastiche Eclipses Parody” focuses primarily on the “fragmentation and privatisation of

modern Literature” and how this results in “each individual coming to be a kind of linguistic

island” that are all disconnected from each other without a central meaning. This gives rise to

the first characteristic of postmodernism we can conclude from this section – plurality. In the

case of HHhH this manifests itself in the lack of a central main character which the reader can

follow. In conventional, realist fiction the story or plot is carried forward by the protagonist,

but the lack of only 1 main character results in the fracturing therefore of the plot itself as well.

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The multiplicity of the main character is illustrated in the frequent usage of self-reflexive

narration that weaves the character-author version of Binet together in the recount of the

assasination. Together with the two assassinators – Gabcik and Kubis – and Heydrich himself we

are presented with the 3 possible main characters in the novel. The struggle with finding a

definite main character is addressed by our first possible character: the author-character

version of Binet in Chapter 88 of the novel. He begins by posing a rhetorical question, “how can

you tell the main character of a story? By the number of pages dedicated to him?” This brings

the skepticism and lack of clear meaning associated with plurality right to the forefront as Binet

grapples with finding a protagonist through which his story of the assasination is told. Ironically

in this struggle we see the emergence of the first character, Binet himself, as his thoughts and

issues with accurately accessing the past and more specifically in narratavising (or trying not to

narrativise) this past illustrate a plot that deals with fiction-making and fictional representations

of historical events at large. The usage of meta-fiction in which the author self-reflexively

comments on the time he has spent explaining each character, and whether it has been

sufficient to justify their status as the main character therefore creates the first possible

character and therefore possible plot of the book. He then claims that although he refer to the

book he is writing as his book on Heydrich, “Heydrich is not supposed to be the main

character.” The dramatic irony in this however is that by mentioning that Heydrich is not

supposed to be the main character it already seeds the perception and possibility of Heydrich in

fact being the protagonist. This is only strengthened by his description of Heydrich’s troubled

childhood in which he is tormented by his alleged Jewish ancestry in Chapter 14. This is

observed at how “the class explodes [into laughter and] the pupils roar” when Heydrich’s

Jewish ancestry is brought up. While Binet defends this stating that it exists merely for

“context”, in the reader’s mind the dive into Heydrich’s personal life fleshes him out enough for

him to be a protagonist as he struggles to prove his “German-ness”. Gabcik and Kubis

ultimately are presented as well as brave rescuers of the world from the evils of the Nazis. In

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their daring and life-threatening mission they illustrate a plot of a patriotic freedom fighter

willing to sacrifice themselves in a suicide mission for the greater good.

The Death of the Subject on the other hand focuses extensively on the postmodern feature of

intertextuality which is glaringly obvious in HHhH. Right from the first chapter, Binet makes

reference to The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera in order to substantiate his

point that “there could [not] be [anything] more vulgar than an invented character” which is

part of his larger argument that necessitates and priorities realism in historical literature.

Furthermore, in Chapter 71, Binet directly includes a poem by Frantisek Halas in order to

describe the fall of France to the Nazis, going beyond merely refering to it. This comes

ultimately out of his struggle for a realistic depiction of history reflecting the postmodern

concern of a lack of objectivity and truth in writing, specifically in accessing the past. He is

therefore forced to rely on these texts as this is the most “reliable” way in which he can access

and tell history – through signs, copies and representations, which parallels Baudrillard’s loss of

the real stage 3 as well.

Q3. Ultimately, I believe that postmodernism has the power to be critical of late stage

capitalism in the world which we live in that is bombarded and highly penetrated by

image-centric advertising. A key element of postmodernism is undoubtedly the state of

relativism it ultimately seeks to achieve in which texts, news sources and even pieces of

advertising lie on one flat and equal plane. In doing so, postmodernism eliminates the high-low

barrier between the bourgeoisue and the proletariat, placing for example huge

government-backed mainstream media outlets on an equal footing compared to independent

news companies. One only needs to look back to the elimination of the notion of “high art” and

“low art” that postmodernism brought about. These notions differentiated between the rich

and the poor’s cultural background as a result of a difference in educational quality that allowed

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the wealthy to appear more cultured. The elimination of “high art” and “low art” could also be

extended to the elimination of “high news” and “low news” where well-established news

companies such the Straits Times, CNA and the New York Times find themselves competing

with and opposed by smaller independent news firms with pertinent example in Singapore being

MothershipSG and Rice Media. The state of relativism allows for the emergence of less rich

companies’ articles and counter-capitalistic advertising to be taken as legitimate. In this case,

backing by a large parent company stops being the metric for legitimacy, halting the dominance

of large advertising and marketing giants and the words of the CEO praising a product matters

just as much as the independent journalist championing against it. In this case, the grand

narrative of consumerism and capitalism are subverted as the words of the rich are no longer

taken as gospel. Instead, a plurality of anti-advertising narratives are allowed to exist due to

postmodernism that ultimately challenges capitalism.

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