Latour’s key idea and a few key terms
To use the idea of the “social” to
explain social phenomenon is like pretending there is a material in which we
are all floating, as if the adjective is a descriptor akin to silk or
plastic. Instead, Latour argues, to
generate reliable explanations of how the social world works, one has to build
a network of connections, spinning filaments that connect humans and objects
within landscapes of activity, local point to local point, until a meaningful
assemblage emerges. The essence of ANT
is captured on page 108: “I can now state the aim of this sociology of
associations more precisely: there is no society, no social realm, and no
social ties, but there exist translations
between mediators that may generate traceable associations” (emphasis in
original).
- Actant—Basically “different ways to make actors do things” (p. 55, emphasis in original) without clearly defining the specific agents.
- Collective—A term which Latour proposes to “designate the project of assembling new entities not yet gathered together and which, for this reason, clearly appear as being not made of social stuff,” or, in other words, the ANT alternative to “society” (p. 75).
- Intermediary—This is “what transports meaning or force without transformation: defining its inputs is enough to define its outputs” (p. 39).
- Mediator—In contrast to intermediary, these “transform, translate, distort, and modify the meaning or the elements they are supposed to carry… their input is never a good predictor of their output” (p. 39).
- Oligoptica—Something like a router, in that it is a hub or node from which multiple connections emerge. It is describe as “star-shaped” (p. 182). A couple of examples are a newspaper editor’s cubicle or a military command center.
- Translation—Basically, the channel of mediation, “a relation that does not transport causality but induces two mediators into coexisting” (p. 108).
Drawing connections between things in the world (picture taken in Taipei, Taiwan)
Latour and literature
In my reading of Latour I was fascinated by the several times that he
draws attention to literature in his text.
For example, in his discussion of actant, Latour uses literature as an example
to explain the variety of actants that might occur, arguing, in fact, that
literature is freer about what can be considered an actant than sociology
normally is. He gives as an example a
fable in which a magic wand or even “a thought in the fairy’s mind” are as
capable of acting as a knight with a sword (p. 54). Later, in the discussion of the idea that
objects can also have agency he brings up the “resource of fiction” for
building connections between objects and humans (p. 82).
I was reminded of this point this week when I was reading an essay in The Best American Essays 2009, in which PatriciaHampl describes visiting an art museum to stimulate her writing. She goes home and writes long descriptive
passages, trying to better capture her memories. But then something unexpected happens. “To my growing astonishment, these long descriptive
passages, sometimes running two, three pages or longer, had a way of sheering
off into narrative after all. The teacup
I was describing had been given to me by my mother. And once I thought of the
fact that she had bought these cups, made in Czechslovokia, as a bride just
before the Second World War, I was writing about that war, about my mother and
her later disappointments, which somehow were, and were not, part of this
fragile cup” (p. 50). The connection
that Hampl makes between description and narrative reminded me of the ways that
Latour describes the connections between objects and humans. In fact, as Hampl goes on the parallels grow
even more striking:
“Description, written from the personal voice of my own perception,
proved even to be the link with the world’s story, with history itself. Here was my mother’s teacup, made in
Czechoslovakia before the war, and here, therefore, was not only my mother’s
heartbreak, but Europe’s. The detail was surely divine, offering up miracle after
miracle of connections out of the faithful consideration of the fragments
before me.” (p. 50)
Hampl’s use of this object, the teacup, not only creates a network of
connections that resonate in her own individual life but ultimately opens to
her the ways that she is connected to larger, broader networks, to larger populations
and world events.
Mug memories:
night street in Taipei and a favorite shop...
shopping at 10 pm coming back home...
pencil box in Dad's shop (until I rescued it)...
Taiwanese tea, Vietnamese and Malaysian coffee drunk in the USA...
Reading Latour
Latour has been the most pleasurable author to read yet. I found Spinuzzi accessible, but Latour has
an accessible style as well, and rare for academic books, little glints of
humor here and there. I especially enjoyed “On the Difficulty of Being an ANT:
An Interlude in the Form of a Dialog,” the simulated interview with a graduate
student, in which Latour proves that if you try to “apply” actor-network theory
to frame an analysis, you are missing the point.
Because we recently read about hypertext theory, I realized that reading
an academic book—particularly Latour—isn’t that different from hypertext. In other words, an academic reader will move
between the main text and the footnotes or endnotes, and quite possibly the
references or even the index. Here, by using footnotes, Latour makes it easier
to keep track of the main text. Of
course, this is by no means unique, but for Latour, it is a way that he
demonstrates connections to an unusually wide range of sources and it is also a
place for odd bits of information. For
example, I liked footnote 179’s comparison of French and American scholarship: “In
France, you can be at once naively rationalist and a great admirer of
deconstruction. Once transported across the Atlantic, this innocent passion
became a dangerous binary weapon” (p. 126).
I might also mention footnote 171, similar for tongue-in-cheek style and
in message: “After years of teaching in England and America, I have been forced
to recognize that semiotics does not survive sea travels” (p. 122).[1]
Another thing that was interesting about reading Latour was considering
whether there is a French style of writing.
(I also bring into play here my vague memory of Hélène Cixous’ essay, “The
Laugh of the Medusa,” and an even vaguer memory of Derrida’s writing.) At any rate, I noticed when I read Foucault
that reading longer sections results in greater comprehension. Latour is much more accessible, but I feel
that he also argues cumulatively, driving an argument forward in small
successive sweeps, and then circling back to remind the reader of an earlier
point. I feel like Anglo-American
scholarship is more systematic, pushing the argument forward in evenly-paced
steps.
One thing that really works for me in Latour is his metaphor of
travel. He uses this to frame his
warnings of what is to come and the distance the reader will have to move to
get there.
Walking slowly (ODU, July 2015)
References
Hampl, P. (1981). The dark art of description.
In M. Oliver & R. Atwan (Eds.), The best American essays 2009 (pp.
43-52). Boston: Mariner Books.
Latour, B.
(2008). Reassembling the social: An introduction to
actor-network-theory. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
