In the end, theory seems unescapable

After a full semester of playing with literary theory in and out of the academy, I am still left with unanswered questions. These doubts aren't due to a lack of thoroughness on our Critical Theory class.
By nature, theory leaves much to the imagination. I felt like I was always armed with the question, "How does this operate in my daily life?". And while these concepts are meant primarily to dissect literature, I found them nagging me at the strangest of moments. Sometimes I felt Derrida or Baudrillard creeping into arguments and papers that, at first glance, had little to do with deconstructing my universe. From arguments with my boyfriend over feminism to analyzing film, theory became a great way to confuse friends and win debates.
After all this time I think I was most fascinated by Marxist concepts of ideology combined with feminist theory. The concept of ideology as applied by almost all theoretcial schools dominates the way I think about these theorists. Every time we read a new perspective I could only obsesses about the author's ability to see past the prejudices he/she wrote about while simultaneously declaring these systems encompassing and mentally inescapable. I feel like this contradiction is my main criticism of theory as a whole. Nevertheless, this question does not invalidate literary theory as a whole. Instead, it adds an entirely new dimension to the criticisms these intellectuals make.

The moment when I knew that I could never "unknow" theory was when I went to see Charlie Kaufman's new film Synecdoche, NY. To summarize this film briefly is literally impossible. In short, Synecdoche, NY centers around Caden Cotard's efforts to reconcile his tragic and futile life by building a life-size replica of New York full of actors playing other actors playing other actors. It speaks to the nature of Baudrillard's Simulacra and Simulacrum as well as Derrida's thoughts on the signifier and the signified. While the pseudo-city is bursting with life and tragedy, it does not approach the essence of that which it replicates. The imitation lacks the substance of the real, implying that this simulation is no less "real" than the imitation. Or, using Derrida's logic, perhaps the simulation is merely trying to imitate something that is an imitation as well. The complexities these theories propose both complicate and enrich my understanding of the things I enjoy.

Maybe these theories are best applied as philosophies. Used over a broader spectrum, I find that theory is just another lens through which we can critically view the world.

Before I start let me thank Ashley Shelden for her guest post on the central blog. It really helped break down the nearly impenetrable world of Lacan and "The Mirror Stage".

After reading the guest post, it was suggested that we draw parallels between the reality presented in John Fowles' Mantissa and Lacan's ideas about language. I was surprised that after a moment of contemplation I was able to see how compatible these two works were.
Mantissa centers around the creative process of Miles Green as inspired by his muse Erato. While the novel starts with a narrative and plot, the charade quickly dissolves when it becomes apparent that the helpless protagonist is actually the capable (but confused) author. Reality continuously shifts as Miles and Erato bicker and cooperate for the sake of constructing his next great work.
The writer shapes the world we read using language, and constantly shifts quickly from one imagined scenario to the other. There is no fixed center in the novel, no plot points to use as guide posts. In short, there is no stability. And Miles Green continues to promote this instability through constructing a world through language.

Response to Dr. Craig

In a continuation of last week's post, I'll be responding to some of Dr. Craig's thoughts on Marxism and how our ideologies (Communist or Capitalist) pervade most aspects of society.
I think the most fascinating idea Dr. Craig has commented on is the notion that all literature, whether it consciously acknowledges it, still directly or indirectly, perpetuate the dominance of the ruling class. Even those who deliberately and forcefully write in opposition to the prevailing ideology in their society are in some way legitimizing their own subjugation. In a sense, it seems to suggest that there is no "outside of ideology", for our very sense of self and consciousness is shaped and molded by powers beyond our control.
The "ruling class", in whatever methods or forms it chooses to use, attempts to hide our very subjugation from us. Most people would raise issue with this and try to assert that our small forms of rebellion (i.e. reading the Communist Manifesto, hanging pictures of Che in our dorm rooms, attending protests) are a manner with which we can voice dissent. Yet these small liberties are not true measures of freedom, at least according to many Marxist theorists. Dr. Craig summarizes the idea succinctly when he states, "radical departures from the dominant values of society are nonetheless engaged with those values, even when, and perhaps, especially when, they claim that they are not."
This is a difficult idea for me to grapple with, and one that I'm not sure if I completely agree or disagree with. I'm with Marx when he asserts that ideologies are central to how we understand ourselves and our place in society, and further more that these dominant ideologies are culturally constructed. Yet the question that really plagues me is the difference between recognizing your relative subjugation by hegemonic forces and freeing yourself from said forces. Surely if ideology was as inescapable as Marx and Engels believed, nobody would be able to truly revolt against anything, especially not the Bolsheviks and other socialist and Communists who DID succeed in restructuring their society. This is a question I actually ponder often, and one that keeps me awake at night (so to speak). I think that for Marxism to function, it must require some great faith in humanity for without that a true revolt of the people could never take place.