That, I believe, is the purpose of Anne Wysocki and her colleagues
(who are curiously omitted from the introduction): to reveal the situatedness of text, technology, and media, and through opening
context-relations and bringing them to the forefront of consciousness and
analysis, to empower writers and readers with agency to affect those
situations.
She writes, “…agency and structure are interdependent. We have agency, that is, insofar as we
recognize how we are positioned by and hence can work with and within our
particular historically-situated and contingent material structures…” (p.
10) Wysocki draws a direct line between
knowledge/understanding/awareness and the ability to act/change/affect. We already know how to perform these
types of analysis, she says, we just need to apply them purposefully
and thoughtfully to “new media.”
In a word, awareness
seems the mission. “…our compositions
only ever work within and as
part of other, already existing, structures and
practices” Wysocki writes, adding that in order to find openings for change (and thus agency), we must be “attentive to what is old and hanging on
(and hanging on, especially, quietly, in places that do not call attention to
themselves.)” (p. 8) Noticeably, Wysocki
does not prescribe what those changes
might be. Yet the silence between her words,
in which no obvious personal political/social agenda lies, has an agentive force of its own. The reader or student recognizes that once they achieve this attentiveness, practicing the craft of
analyzing texts for how they betray their relevant situation, the choice of
what and how to change becomes their own.
![]() |
| Things that seem "neutral:" left to right, horizontal text. This would not be quite as funny, if you read/wrote using ancient Chinese characters which often oriented vertically on the page. |
I hear Wysocki encouraging professors to teach their
students not what to think, but
how to think. She hints at the implications of this empowerment, by discussing
the notion of responsibility in writing. “Technologies are not responsible for
texts,” she writes, “we are, within the
limitations of what different technologies afford.” (p. 19) Later, again she includes: “I hope we teach a
generosity towards the positions that others produce…and that through our
readings we can help each other achieve positions that are the most responsibly
produced we can.” (p. 23) Power and
control entwine and propagate themselves in language, constantly reinforcing
messages of capitalism, the literate elite, consumerism, and so forth. Unraveling those messages and examining their
contents gives the reader power. This
potential of power, the ability to recognize and change situations through discourse, must also
come with checks and balances, and thus the discussion of responsibility. What does responsibility look like in
rhetoric? A conversation too long for
here, but a worthy one none the less.
![]() |
| Materiality... |
Another beauty of Writing
New Media is the discussion of embodiment, materiality. Wysocki expertly shows how texts, and our
manners of producing them, become material products of their lived
environments, situated within specific historical junctions. Too often we regard writing (and the
authority it carries thereof) as non-physical and use its perceived
bodiless-ness to justify drawing lines between the academic/personal,
rational/emotional, even male/female. She
writes of “materiality effacement,” when texts work to not show their physical nature.
These are the ones to watch out for, the ones that will carry rich
meaning. We do this “material
defacement” to politicians, doctors, academics, too. When you read that Obama might smoke, the public
goes, “what?” Prominent figures are built up
as bodiless, ruling symbols excluded from the infirmities of physical nature—something on which we can depend, seemingly exempt from human fallibilities.
Connected, connected, Wysocki breathes throughout her
text—everything is always jointed, laced in, dependant and contingent on
something else. There is no text in a
vacuum, no intention-less writing. Everything
is always written at the stake of something else. Thus asking, “who’s power and control is
at stake in this text?” becomes a highly valuable form of analyzing.
Finally, I cannot conclude without an respectful nod to her discussion
of identity. If we are
Popular culture may say we “are,” we “exist,” and we apply
ourselves to problems and situations the way one might apply a layer of paint, or
a piece of clothing. But rhetoric views the self as amorphous, constantly changing
in response to the environment and the texts with which we engage. So be aware of that change—become (verb) intentionally.




Anjeli
ReplyDeleteI encountered some interesting thoughts in your blog post. One of them being awareness. I think awareness is one of the goals of this kind of discourse. As writers, and as humans, we try to be aware of everything: our environment, our social life, our finances, technology, progression and our selves. Also I have to mention the graffiti image. I found it hilarious. Street on, Edward, street on. Thanks for that, it was great. And I especially appreciated your conclusion. You wrote, “If we are seeking anything in all our explorations of knowledge, our writing and our discussion, the reason we put astronauts on the moon and decipher quantum physics, and argue about rhetoric and ways of knowing, is it not to discover ourselves?” What a fantastic thought. I think you are spot on here. Maybe that is exactly why all of us write, to discover ourselves, our identity, our place in the world. Writers are the ones who dwell on these notions of identity enough that we have to write some of them down in order to organize our thoughts. Understanding our identity is so much more than fleeting thoughts, it has to do with our very being, our sense of purpose; therefore, I found your conclusion was great. Exploring identity is something we could all afford to practice a little more often. Understanding our selves might be the key to understanding everything else.
Cheers
Man, your varied text size in those first two paragraphs proved some points without actually saying them. A very good example of "Show, don't tell." I'd like to dwell on your fascinating question, for which I have no answer: "What does responsibility look like in rhetoric?" There are so many questions that must be asked inside of this question, like "what is responsibility?" and "are morals involved in this responsibility? If so, to what degree?" Knowledge of rhetoric is something that I'm not sure I would repeat again. Don't get me wrong, now that I have it, i'm never giving it away. But if I could go back and choose whether or not to have it, I'd have a difficult time making the decision. It could be argued that, for someone who is on the verge of an existential crisis, it would be irresponsible to enlighten them with rhetoric, because it opens that many more doors for the absence of meaning in life. In contrast, it could be hugely responsible for this same type of person, because they might be able to channel it positively and say "the meaning of life is to find a meaning to life." So, as always with rhetoric, it depends on the audience and situation (rhetorical context). Still, it's fascinating question that we could talk about forever. Also, thank you for your kind words in your comment on my blog. Your writing is on a whole other level than mine, and academically speaking, I often turn to your posts when I'm not understanding our readings. You have a way with breaking things down into bite sized pieces for those of us who are too full of shit to take another bite.
ReplyDeleteKeep it up,
-Adam