Split-A-World
On Dissociation And The Problem of Separating The Art From The Artist
Have you watched Life Is Beautiful, the Grand Prix-winning film from 1997?
It is a magical story of the power of the imagination.
In Nazi Germany, a father and a son are trapped in a concentration camp. To shield his son from the horrors of the real world, the father builds a new one for him. He tells him that the camp is actually a fun game, where completing certain tasks gets you points.
Just like the other games.
Story-telling is convenient. Something when the world that we inhabit seems a little disappointing, it is easier to just stitch together a new one. However, it has a dark secret — it is fake. Today, through a linguistics concept and a debate in the art world in the #MeToo era, we shall see how and why. Welcome to the world(s) of dissociation.
So, what is this dissociation that you speak of?
In the post-truth era of alternative facts, the truth is fluid. It is no longer unitary or static. The process of splitting the truth according to whim to construct multiple realities of convenience has become a powerful form of argumentation. It comes with a name — dissociation — and its primary job is to ease the tension.
How?
In his seminal work, Sourcebook On Rhetoric, James Jasinski explains that “dissociative arguments divide the source of tension into two incompatible parts” (Jasinski, 176).
Um, how?
Fret not. Bill Waterson comes out of hibernation to explain.
To begin our understanding of dissociation, let us try to see how Calvin above uses this strategy. He claims that reality continues to ruin his life. In a sensible, rational worldview, reality and life are similar to the point of being singular. Calvin says that they are different, and it is one that is directly influencing the other. What he is doing is creating a pair — the realm of reality (the “reality” that has been mentioned above) and the realm of appearances (the so-called “life”). Life is a compound construct for him, one that is made up of the real and the imagined. This division first splits life into two and then indulges in a complex reconstruction. Calvin’s life had been going great until reality decided to meddle with it. To soothe his wounds, Calvin dissociates. Everything is alright in the world, at least the one he is living in.
Dissociation is an important topic in the study of rhetoric, the art of persuasion. Efficient rhetors can use its power to great results.
You know what they say about great power and responsibility, right?
RIGHT?
OK.
In the hands of those with interests that lean towards the malicious, it becomes dangerous. The appearance-reality pair is only one of more than twenty discussed by Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca in their book The New Rhetoric. Think of theory-practice (“It works in theory, but not in practice”), means-end (“This is the war to end all wars”), letter-spirit (“This might be what the law-maker meant but it is not what it is written”), and so on. As we continue our study of dissociation, we will look at some of these and the wonders they behold in the act of persuasion.
OK cool, but I don’t get it.
Don’t worry, little padawan.
We do not need to probe too deep to find examples of dissociation in the world around us. The buck stops right at the most powerful man in the world at the moment and the ironic joy that his language brings to the public and linguistic experts around the world.
Donald Trump has become a master at dissociation. Think of the new phrases that have come into being. Alternative facts. Post-truth. Fake news. This is not simply the rejection of the truth — it is the construction of the New Truth. Trump tells us that what the mainstream media writes about him is fake, merely “appearance”, while it is his prerogative to bring the “reality” to the people of the world. There are two truths, but only one is real. Dissociation is not merely of interest to those inclined to study rhetoric and linguists. It is also a psychological term that has been described as a slippery slope, one whose over-indulgence that lead to long-term disbelief in reality. Clinical psychologist Frederick Aardema, who has conducted studies on this, says that in extreme cases, “dissociation manifests in a condition called derealization (DR), which renders life bland, discolored, drab, and emotionally dull” (qtd. in Livni).
Psychologist Jeremy E. Sherman has even dubbed it the “dissociation death spiral”, and he warns us of the following simple but alarming thing:
“The more discouraging reality gets, the more people will try to ignore it.”
Creating new worlds is not just bad for your mental health. It has an interesting relevance in the world of ethics too.
In 1923, poet T.S. Eliot wrote that he has assumed as axiomatic that a creation, a work of art, is autonomous. Eliot meant that a work of art should stand on its own, independent of the creator. This mythical ideal of impersonality was further argued vociferously by the French literary critic Roland Barthes in his popular 1967 essay, The Death Of The Author. Although Barthes’ idea is different (it argues that the audience has the ultimate say in creating the world of a text), the essence is the same as that of Eliot’s.
“To give an author to a text is to text is to impose upon that text a stop clause, to furnish it with a final signification, to close the writing.”
It is then safe to say that the debate for separating the art from the artist is not new. In the era of #MeToo, it has acquired the status of a moral dilemma. As we learn new, unsettling things about the people behind the art we love, a natural discomfort eases its way in.
How do we engage with contentious works of art?
Do we accept the death of the author and separate the art from the artist?
Our study of dissociation will aid us in dealing with this apparent problem with conviction.
There has been much support for the practice of separation of worlds in dealing with art. One argument deals with morality. It goes like this — the audience cannot consider it morally ideal. This is not of interest at the moment and is left to be dealt with by our learned philosophers, who have structurally dismantled it. The pièce de résistance is this —
“the best way to engage with any really good piece of art is to treat it as a transcendent work that can stand on its own outside of history and speak to anyone from any place and time”.
The easy answer is this — cognitive dissonance.
OK, but how is that related to dissociation?
Yes, we’re getting there.
In the era of information overload, it has become very difficult to be unaware of the people behind a piece of art and their exploits in the so-called real world. How do we laugh at a Louis CK bit about masturbating in his apartment without evoking images of him forcibly exposing his genitals to unwilling women? How do we watch Pulp Fiction, Good Will Hunting, or No Country For Old Men when the title card is preceded by the words “Miramax Films” spread across the screen, informing us that Harvey Weinstein was directly involved with the project? Separating the art from the artist is an exercise in dissociation. It asks us to place the art and the artist in two separate worlds. Unfortunately, the truth is static and very objective. The truth is that this act of separation is fantasy, fiction, and falsehood.
The art and the artist can never be independent.
Additionally, we have something called “condensed dissociation”. In our study of dissociation so far, we have relied on appearance-reality pairs. Condensed dissociation relies on the presence of only one part of the pairs, working by implication on the other half. Consider an example.
The “Malaysia, Truly Asia” campaign was launched by Tourism Malaysia to boost tourism in the country. The slogan is an example of condensed dissociation at work. Condensed dissociations often rely on key modifying terms to work. Here, the modifying term is the adverb “truly”.
How?
Its first function is to claim that Malaysia is the only Asian country that captures the true (the “real”) essence of the continent — there are no other countries which can claim the same. This implies that any tourist will have an inadequate Asian experience unless they visit the only country that truly embodies its spirit. Its second function is the implication of “fake” Asias — the countries that only “appear” to exemplify the continental characteristics. The resulting rhetoric is powerful and condensed.
Alright. Cool. Thanks. Now what?
Now we dissociate.
The table below presents some of the dissociative pairs that were studied by Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca.
Now that we have seen how dissociation is intrinsically linked to rhetoric studies, it is time to split some worlds of our own.
Here are some sources of tension. Use the table above, or the concept of condensed dissociation or a peek up your sleeves, to use the magic of dissociation to ease the tension. There is no right answer. You will not receive any applause. There are no prizes.
Unless you can persuade me, of course.
- Use the black magic of dissociation to convince your critical writing preceptor to give you a deadline extension on an assignment that you had totally forgotten about (they don’t actually need to know that, shh).
- It is the month of December in the city of New Delhi, which basically means that it is very, very cold. But that is outside, and you are comfortable in your warm blanket. Persuade your mother that it is a terrible idea to make you get up and go buy groceries. You are 26 years old and unemployed.
- As the leader of a country with tense relations with a neighbouring state, convince your citizens that war is the only option.
Our time-keeper for this little exercise is NOT The Apparent, but in fact, The Real Slim Shady.
Dissociation has the power to convince you of what’s not real. Be safe out there.
Works Cited
Barthes, Roland. The Death Of The Author. Aspen, 1967.
Grady, Constance. “What Do We Do When the Art We Love Was Created by a Monster?” Vox.com, Vox Media, 11 Oct. 2018, www.vox.com/culture/2018/10/11/17933686/me-too-separating-artist-art-johnny-depp-woody-allen-louis-ck.
Jasinski, James L. Sourcebook on Rhetoric. SAGE Publications, Inc, 2001.
Livni, Ephrat. “There’s a Psychological Term for Feeling like What You’re Seeing Isn’t Real.” Quartz, Quartz, 20 Jan. 2017, qz.com/888127/trump-inauguration-theres-a-psychological-term-for-feeling-like-what-youre-seeing-isnt-real/.
Sherman, Jeremy E. “Beware the Dissociation Death Spiral.” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, 22 Oct. 2018, www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/ambigamy/201810/beware-the-dissociation-death-spiral.
