Thing Theory: A Look at the Pre-formed notions of Object-Oriented Ontology in “The Dead” by Ann Sarkisian

           

Object-oriented ontology opens a wide range for literary criticisms. What is Object-oriented ontology? you may ask. I’m pretty sure my skepticism was written all over my face when my professor first introduced it to our class. Simply put, OOO is a philosophy that focuses on objects rather than people as the center of the universe. It eliminates human relationships with objects and discusses the ability for objects to exist independent from these relationships. If you’re at all like me you’d be right on cue if you find yourself asking: Why would we want to do that? It is definitely a new concept, but after experimenting with it a bit, I would say it’s worth a try.

Both object-oriented literary criticism and thing theory stem from the large grid of object-oriented ontology. You’d be right in assuming that object-oriented literary criticism follows object-oriented ontology more closely, while Thing Theory varies just a little. Following Graham Harman’s—OOO philosopher—description of OOO, object-oriented ontology focuses on the elimination of humans from the conversation. Harman claims that an object “does not exist because it can be used but can be used because it exists” (199). In other words, objects exist before humans make use of them. Therefore, objects can exist without humans. Object-oriented literary criticism applies these ideas when reading a text. They focus, not on what the humans are up to, nor what the humans may be doing with the objects. Just the objects. Bill Brown’s thing theory, on the other hand, helps us understand “’how inanimate objects constitute human subjects”  (24). He allows humans to enter the conversation and focuses primarily on how they relate to objects.

While writing my essay on James Joyce’s “The Dead,” I tried to stick by the rules of OOO and read the text with an object-oriented critique. However, after further discussion with my professor, I realized that I was headed in the direction of thing theory. The good news is, both theories fit under the umbrella of OOO. Thing theory just so happens to slightly bend the rules. My essay tests the limits of the thing theory as a theoretical approach. Do we get anywhere by thinking about the story in terms of the objects present? Does it provoke discussion as readily as other well-developed literary theories? Will it find its way into the institutions as a primary literary theory?

In order to answer these questions—and hopefully any others you may have along the way—I have done a critical reading through a thing theory lens on James Joyce’s “The Dead.”  In “The Dead,” Gabriel and his wife Gretta attend a house party put on by Gabriel’s Aunts. The story follows each of Gabriel’s—often-flawed—interactions with the guests through a third person omniscient narrator. After eating dinner, delivering his speech, and heading home with his wife, Gabriel has an epiphany—a realization that love is not analytical and that it involves vulnerability. Scholars debate Gabriel’s epiphany: Does he learn from it or does he stay the same? Reading with a thing theory approach, I would argue that Gabriel does learn from his epiphany. As a result from his relationship to objects—his goloshes, the piano, and snow—Gabriel’s epiphany can also be read as a pre-formed OOO epiphany. By eliminating his preexisting notions of hierarchy between him and the objects—including people—around him, Gabriel overcomes his superficial insecurities and understands the importance of love for Gretta. Though my tone may become more formal through my analysis, please know that I will return to our pending conversation to discuss the benefits and limitations of the approach.

Thing Theory Analysis of “The Dead”

While traveling to his aunt’s house, Gabriel wears his goloshes in order to protect himself from the snow. His self-conscious personality coupled with dictated social norms, like what to wear in the winter, shape the way he views his goloshes. Literary theorist Timothy Morton explains our tendencies to use objects in conventional ways when he writes, “we are accustomed . . . to seeing things as patterns and not as object” (219). We are taught to think in patterns, and societies often establish these patterns as common knowledge. For example, we learn proper etiquette on how to set the table for a formal dinner. The pattern of the silverware is set up in such a way that we also know which piece of silverware corresponds with each course. Patterns such as these correlate with social behaviors. The limitation of human patterning, Morton explains, is that “until objects are purposed in this way, they just float around vaguely: to be is to have a purpose for some other entity” (219). OOO emphasizes the independence of objects from one another, and would turn down any idea that objects do not have agency within themselves.

Gabriel, well aware and self-conscious of his compliance with such behaviors, concerns himself with the practical use of objects: using objects for the sake of using objects. Gretta, on the other hand, finds humor in Gabriel’s obsession with goloshes. With OOO, Harman can explain their difference of opinion, “Objects may change rapidly; they any be perceived differently by different observers; they remain opaque to all the efforts of knowledge to master them” (195). OOO describes objects as constantly transforming. Your relationship (or decided meaning of) an object may be different than my relationship with that object or even more different than that objects relationship with the parking meter outside. But remember, OOO does not care about the relationship between objects and humans. The thing theory approach allows us to consider the relationships between people and objects through the philosophical ideas of OOO. Considering the different relationships with the goloshes, we can see the difference of perspective between Gretta—the spontaneous, self-governing, individual”—and Gabriel—the systematic, rule-following, individual.

After several awkward encounters with the women—who express varying degrees of emotion—present at the party, Gabriel recognizes Gretta’s emotional connection to the piano. Even though Gretta gives the piano her undivided attention, Gabriel consciously chooses to stay at a critical distance in order to analyze the situation. He could use the stairs as a physical—and metaphorical—ascension to reach Gretta’s level of emotion, but instead he uses the stairs as a physical separation. The stairs have provide several “uses,” and because Gabriel chooses this one, we can better understand his analytical frame of mind. He ponders, “what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of” (Joyce 48). Gabriel’s inability to understand (and therefore make meaning of) Gretta’s emotional connection to the tune, highlights his detached feelings toward the piano and his wife. Gretta and Gabriel create different relationships with the piano, in the same way they create different relationships with the goloshes.

Joyce references the piano sixteen times, and Gabriel is present nearly every time. While mentioned repeatedly, the piano only makes a significant impact on Gretta when it is being played. Otherwise, party guests casually use as a table for their hors d’oeurvres or nothing at all. Harmon defends the piano’s existence when he says, “Even if an object were absent from us it would still be present to itself” (196). He claims that even when humans do not recognize an object, the object is still “present to itself.” Therefore, the object still exists. Joyce pays close attention to the piano at various times in order remind the reader of its existence. OOO suggests that these cues are unnecessary. The piano, to borrow Harman’s phrasing, “does not exist because it can be used but can be used because it exists” (199). The piano is “present to itself” whether or not humans recognize its existence. According to OOO, it makes no difference whether or not humans make use of an object. However, let’s stick with our thing theory guns—so to speak—and continue looking at the way objects impact Gabriel.

As Gabriel sits alone to consider Gretta’s relationship with a former love, he embraces the idea of equality among all objects under the snow. As the snow equally covers all objects, Gabriel realizes that he is equally as capable of loving Gretta as anyone who has loved her before. Before going any further, I want to clarify that snow is an object. While describing what constitutes an object Jane Bennett explains, “weather, in short, is still an object” (230). Thus, we can, read the snow as an object equal to the goloshes, the piano, the people, etc. After spending time with Gretta whom he recently discovers has experienced love with another man, Gabriel no longer tries to protect himself from the snow (with the use of another object). Instead, he takes notice of it and considers its value. Lying in bed, “his soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead” (Joyce 59). Under the snow, all objects—including people, living and dead—are equal. This is not to set up a hierarchy that snow is superior. Instead, it breaks down the hierarchy as set up by Gabriel, who places himself at the center.

Gabriel becomes vulnerable to an OOO “all objects equal” world as he feels an emotional connection to both his wife and the dead. Through an admiration of the snowfall, Gabriel reaches his epiphany—a pre-formed OOO one at that. While OOO focuses less on the relationship between objects I—as a temporary thing theorist—want us to consider Bennett’s point: “when . . . snowflakes rustle the needles of the quivering pine, even these objects cannot touch the full reality of one another. Yet they affect one another nonetheless” (229). Gabriel may never understand the “full reality” of snow as an object, but its affect on him is undeniable. Without the recurring presence of snow, we would lose an important object that emphasizes Gabriel’s epiphany. From the over analytic character he appears to be upon introduction, Gabriel now considers the importance of love in his marriage. He realizes that “He had never felt like that himself towards any woman but he knew that such a feeling must be love. . . .his own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world” (Joyce 59). Rather than feeling self-conscious of the way he should love Gretta, Gabriel, instead, realizes that to love someone is a spontaneous feeling—not something that can be planned ahead of time.

In addition to Gabriel’s epiphany of love, he experiences a seemingly pre-formed OOO epiphany. His welcoming of the snow as a great equalizer suggests his acceptance of the OOO concepts that all objects—including humans and all forms of precipitation—are equal.  While Gabriel enters the story as an over-analytical character, conscious of all social expectations, he eventually understands the importance of unplanned feeling. The relationship—or lack thereof—between Gabriel and various objects propels his understanding of Gretta and her propensity to act on spontaneous feelings. Gabriel’s epiphany changes the way he perceives the snow from the beginning to the end of the story, and he finally takes a moment to create an individual thought. As the snow falls over all “objects” equally, it also, wipes away Gabriel’s failure to communicate with the world around him. As a result, he shows no sign of insecurity, but instead a confidence in his newly evoked feelings. Gabriel’s epiphany is a stopping point. If the story were to continue, I would envision a continuation of OOO concepts and a much more object-oriented Gabriel.

Evaluation of OOO and Thing Theory

An Evaluation of OOO and Thing Theory as a Literary Approach

            OOO asked me to do some pretty odd things while reading “The Dead” like: ignore humans and put objects at the center of the analysis. As you can see, I did not ignore humans, nor did I place objects at the center of the universe. This is when I thank Bill Brown for his deviation from object-oriented literary critique to thing theory. I find thing theory to be a much more acceptable way to read literature. After all, we are only human. That’s why we still have human characters in our stories and why, as readers, we pay close attention to these characters. 

Thing theory gave me an opportunity to follow Gabriel’s progression more closely through his relationship with objects rather than reading the story solely focused on either people or objects. I found thing theory to be an interesting and beneficial way to read “The Dead.” It illuminates different aspects of the work. In a sense, it even re-makes it. I agree with author, Levi R. Bryant when he says that, “this is the highest honor we can bestow on a text,” that is: to use them to their full potential and reach all levels of “productivity.” If we stuck with one theory all the time, we would eventually limit the ways in which we read a text. Thing theory, is new, refreshing, and creative. I would highly suggest giving it a chance.

            I enjoyed researching OOO and attempting an object-oriented approach (even though I fell within thing theory) because it forced me to consider the objects within the story. A gender approach would focus primarily on Gabriel as he interacts—awkwardly—with the women at the party and how he puts on his best “performance” when placed in masculine roles. Focusing on race would also ignore objects and be directed to the dinner scene when Freddy Malins defends a black singer: “And why couldn't he have a voice too?" asked Freddy Malins sharply. "Is it because he's only a black?" (40). Looking at the story through approaches like gender and race are beneficial, but they are also focusing only on the human interactions. To me, they seem more surface level observations, and while they can be brought to deeper discussion, they stand out to the common reader.

            Had I not approached “The Dead” with a thing theory mindset, I most likely would not have come to my conclusion that Gabriel learns from his epiphany and feels a sense of calm from a pre-formed OOO frame of mind. In fact, I remember the first time reading “The Dead,” my class used a new critic approach. We focused on the snow as a metaphor and a symbol of paralysis and death. My thesis about Gabriel’s epiphany went something like this: “even though Gabriel has an epiphany after realizing what it means to have lived, he watches the snowfall, which symbolizes his inability to overcome his paralysis and equates him more with the dead than the living.” After reading the story through the eyes of a new critic, my interpretation of the ending was much different—much more somber—than my reading with thing theory and OOO concepts. Having read “The Dead” from two different approaches, and considering the possibilities for others, I have come to realize that “The Dead” can be read an infinite number of ways. It is a special text that responds to many literary theories—all of which are capable of producing different conclusions. I agree with Bryant’s point: ‘the question is no longer the question of what the text means with the aim of closing the text, but rather is the question of what the text builds.” No matter what approach we choose, we should not stop there. My readings of “The Dead” have proven that, depending on the approach, you can arrive at very different conclusions.

            While I spend most of my time promoting OOO and thing theory, there are some aspects that I am not so in love with. While I like focusing on objects, at the same time, I don’t know that a focus on objects alone in a character driven plot is practical. Now OOO would say that it’s only character driven because I see it that way and that I should spend more time focusing on the objects. Fair. But can an object have an epiphany? And isn’t Joyce credited especially for his use of epiphany? I just think that Gabriel’s epiphany would be hard to ignore without leaving out a crucial aspect of the story. . At one point in his essay, Harman suggests that we rewrite a work and change it just enough so that it appears the same without actually being the same. The epiphany is where I draw the line. “The Dead” would not be “The Dead” without Gabriel’s epiphany.

Another problem I had with OOO is that while it claims that all objects are equal and no one object has power over another, it is clear in “The Dead” which objects one should pay more attention to. I don’t think in any case object-oriented literary criticism could write insightful analysis of the story through the stout bottles or the utensils with which Gabriel carves the goose. In addition, I found it very difficult to talk about objects without relating them to another object—hence my attraction to thing theory rather than object-oriented literary criticism. OOO says that objects can exist without humans, but here I am, a human, trying to make sense of the insignificance of my existence—tough to do, let me tell you.

In addition to my analysis of “The Dead,” OOO and thing theory have helped me not only understand the value of the objects within the “The Dead” but also the value of the work as an object itself. Morton says, “Existing is thus futural. It is not yet. Consider a poem. It’s meaning is its future” (220). As an object, “The Dead” existed before its aesthetic meaning. The black ink on white pages with a cover existed long before I—or anyone else, for that matter—made meaning of it. We often overlook the art object when trying to find its meaning. Bryant comments on this idea when he writes, “The text is something. A text is an entity that circulates throughout the world. And like all bodies or objects that circulate throughout the world, texts have the capacity to affect other bodies.” Just because we make meaning of an object does not mean we understand it fully. Aesthetics are a human observation. We spend so much time discussing the affects of an art form’s aesthetic appeal, but we’re missing half of the equation. By trying to make an object mean something—like Gabriel does with Gretta—we try to make it ours. But that’s not what OOO says we should be doing. Instead, we should recognize objects as their own entities. I find this humbling in a way. Just because we—humans—don’t see an object or give it meaning, it still exists. We cannot and do not control everything. Phew! I don’t think this means we should cease trying to make meaning or use objects all together, but I do think we should understand our place as not necessarily the center of the universe.

Again, I feel humbled in the presence of OOO. The idea that things exist whether we see them or not is tricky, but if it’s true, it makes me reconsider my place in the world amidst all these other objects. And isn’t that the point of a literary criticism? OOO has hatched rookie approaches like object-oriented literary criticism and thing theory in the world of literary theory. They are not yet as fully developed as, say new criticism or even the more recent race and gender theories, but they are here, nonetheless. I think it has the potential to make some major contributions in the near future. If OOO can keep its momentum and find its way into the classroom, I firmly believe it will gain a spot in the next bound set of literary criticisms.

Works Cited

Bennett, Jane. “Systems and Things: A Response to Graham Harman and Timothy Morton.” New Literary History, 2012. 226-232. Print.

Bogost, Ian. Alien Phenomenology, Or, What It's like to Be a Thing. Minneapolis:            University of Minnesota, 2012. Print.

Bryant, Levi R. "Larval Subjects ." Larval Subjects. N.p., n.d. Web. 10 May 2013.

Harman, Graham. "The Well-Wrought Broken Hammer: Object-Oriented Literary Criticism." New Literary History. (2012): 183-203. Print.

Joyce, James. "The Dead." Trans. Array Case Studies in Contemporary Criticism. Boston, Bedford Books of St. Martin's Press, 1994. Print.

Morton, Timothy. "An Object-Oriented Defense of Poetry." New Literary History, 2012: 205-            224. Print.