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This could be Tony Lopez's magnum opus. At around 225
pages and featuring 10 sections of prose it appears to be his longest
collection to date for sure. The section, or book, entitled Darwin, appeared previously in 2009, from Acts of Language
(Dartington). That this is a grand project there is no doubting, something
along the lines of Walter Benjamin's Arcades Project, where each section is built-up from extracted
original material, or quotations, from a wide variety of sources. There is
probably some rewriting or adjusting going on here but not much I expect, so
this is a case of sampling on an epic scale and Lopez's ability to feed raw
material into an apparently seamless 'narrative' construction has never been
more visible.
This is not a work you would wish to read from cover to cover in a short
time-span: rather it's a matter
of dipping in, perhaps making connections or discovering links between the
separate sections, though the reader is unlikely to come to any grand
conclusion, I suspect. I should take an excerpt, by way of showing the
method, in this case from the section entitled 'Collecting & Polishing
Stories', a title which is as revealing as it is possibly ironic:
At the heart of
the pragmatic theory we are using is the notion
of
relevance, defined in terms of contextual effects and processing
effort. Experience itself is not primarily
cognitive. Every social
policy,
in particular, has a reflexive effect on those who
carry it
forward. As I gazed out at my class, their
names hovering in the
air
above their heads, they seemed expectant.
My experience of reading this material was somewhat dizzying, like that
entailed in my limited attempts at reading modern philosophy - Merleau-Ponty,
for example - where you attempt to get a flow into the reading while having
to pause to digest or grapple with what you think it is that's actually being
said. The term 'Experience itself is not primarily cognitive' is one of those
moments here and having reasoned that I more or less agree with the premise
(and trying to avoid the multiple byways this thought could distract you
into) I carried on. The syntax and grammar is largely as expected and
although the surface appears seamless you are constantly arrested by the
non-sequiturs, by the mass of variegated material and by the humour this
sometimes engenders. Much of this humour comes from the self-awareness
involved in the use of montage as a method. In the hands of a less
intelligent writer this could turn into an awful mess.
I'm pretty sure that Lopez is aware of the multiple interpretations that
could be teased out from this prose and while there's a serious writer at
work here - as is often the case this book is heavy with dark materials -
there is also an aesthetic process evident in the playfulness and obvious
pleasure derived from this montaging method. I'd say that this book extends
the boundaries of that method and the fact that it all holds together - or
appears to - is testament to Lopez's skill. The mix of critical motivation
and aesthetic procedures is an unusual one - Lopez is less of a Brechtian
than Robert Sheppard, for example - but it certainly works. I wouldn't say
that I've entirely got to grips with what he's doing here but I am impressed.
The extensive end-referencing is all part of the game, as well as providing a
resource for interested parties, and raised a smile in this reader. This may
be a key moment as I'm not sure how he moves on from here. After the extended
compositions of progressive rock, a return to the humble three-minute song?
© Steve
Spence 2012
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