This time, I analyze the strategies that Terry Eagleton uses in his “What is Ideology?” Ch. 1 in Ideology: an introduction. (London: Verso, 1991), and try to make an argument on a musical belief of mine.
Eagleton’s essay includes daily-life examples, deploys both “firm” and “flexible” propositions, and has a strategic organization in its argument. Daily-life examples ground the abstract term “ideology” in physical manifestations, and also prove the relevance of “ideology” to the reader. For instance,
“What, then, would be meant if somebody remarked in the course of a pub conversation: ‘Oh, that’s just ideological!’” (p. 3)
“Soviet Union is in the grip of ideology while the United States sees things as they really are.” (p. 4)
“Firm” propositions establish an authoritative image of the author, while “flexible” ones create space for the reader to further analyze the subject matter and make his/her own stand. By flexibly opening up a variety of possibilities in defining “ideology”, Eagleton also avoids counter-examples that may attack a narrower definition of the term. For instance,
Firm: “There is no reason to believe in a post-Freudian era that our lived experience need be any less ambiguous than our ideas.” (p. 20)
Flexible: “What side you take up in this debate depends on whether or notyou are a moral realist.” (p. 17)
The essay, dealing with the complicated concept of “ideology,” is made coherent by a tactical narrative structure. Eagleton starts with random definitions of ideology, then goes on to analyze their individual connotations, as well as their mutual compatibility, contradictions, and implications. This leads to the central discussion on the politics of “ideology.” Before the conclusion section, the author prompts the nearing of argument’s closure by mentioning “the cynics,” a term closely related to the postmodernists that he rejects at an earlier part of the essay (precisely, in the “individual connotation” part I mentioned above). The end echoes the beginning by proposing different possibilities of “ideology,” this time in a much more organized manner.
Now, it’s my turn. Warning: this is no a scholarly essay.
The title is “Why does the world need music scholars?”
The global financial crisis worsens. Educational budgets are cut, and the Arts appear vulnerable because of their lack of financial productivity. It seems that the chemical-pharmaceutical PhDs who invent drugs, or the international relations MAs who work in the United Nations, or the BBAs who did internships at i-banks are more socially and financially relevant than aspiring music scholars. Many of my friends, non-musicians, politely expressed their astonishment when I told them “I’m doing a PhD in music.” For sure, people like me have strong feelings toward our undertakings, but it is also fair to say that musical scholarship is hermetic in the public eye. How shall we present ourselves to others? Let me name some more or less random ideas:
(a) we write music history;
(b) we write music histories;
(c) we narrate music verbally, supported by formal analyses on top of personal feelings;
(d) we judge and criticize music;
(e) we discover things that will change the current history textbook;
(f) we produce critical scores for performers to play with, hence play an important part in delivering the composers’ intent to the audience;
(g) we observe and analyze sounds, silences and noises that may otherwise go unnoticed;
(h) we change people’s (musicians or non-musicians) perspectives on music;
(i) we tell untold stories about music and musicians;
(j) we tell existing stories from new perspectives;
(k) we speak for the dead and the repressed.
So on, and so forth. Some interesting observations come up. First, some situations can be described by more than one of these formulations. For instance, new research may tell untold stories of Beethoven (a dead person) and hence revise music history. Second, none of these formulations inhibit one another and this implies a liberty and variety in what music scholars can do. (a) and (b) exhibit ontological or presentational differences. One can use different kinds of formal analyses to repute or reconfirm existing beliefs. Third, some of these formulations have ambiguous boundaries with other disciplines, such as music critic and performing musicians. Fourth, all of the above are related to society, directly or indirectly. Hence, I suggest a few ways in presenting the music scholar’s social relevance.
Some of our work create new methods of appreciating music. They act as the mediator/ alienator between the public and the musician. They may also provide analytical tools to the sociologists and critical analysts. This category also includes people who strive for the most accurate representation of music and musicians.
Some scholars look at how music functions in society from different angles. They reveal, for instance, representations of violence in classical masterpieces, and also speak for people/ musicians who are misrepresented by popular journalism and social thoughts.
And I must acknowledge music scholars who do basic research. As Jann Pasler phrases in the Critical Studies Seminar yesterday, "utility may not be circumscribed by people around the original finding". Some academic essays may seem to lack utility or social implication at the moment they are presented and published. Nonetheless, we shall celebrate basic research just as the Nobel prize emphatically celebrates so, and not neglect its potential contributions.
An action music scholar voices their social concerns loudly to the public. Leo Treitler wrote about the Gulf War on New York Times. Taruskin had his say on Boston Opera’s cancellation of Kinghoffer after 9-11. Similar efforts were made by, for example, Hon-Lun Yang in exploring the censored music in China, and Susan Cusick in writing on musical abuse by the American Army in Afghanistan. The lack of publicity, however, hindered the spread of their messages. (Cusick’s article only made it to the newspaper through Alex Ross’s column, and not many lines were devoted to it.) The most direct societal interaction is physical involvement, to have a music scholar deliver a speech or perform in public. Right now, I can think of non-music scholars such as Coco Fusco and Zizek (in his exciting speech in Occupy Wall Street).
After all, as a music scholar, we are not going to save the financial crisis (and, by the way, who can do that now?) We have different endeavors, meaningful ideals. Aspiring scholars, I contend, shall actively explain the value of musical scholarship to others in society. And don’t forget, the life of a scholar is far more than life as a scholar.
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