aesthetics of the "ych" ("V"/Fanny Burney, from Rei Terada, on NASSR)

[Bonnie Surfus (ENG)]

On Mon, 21 Aug 1995 E.A.Weinstein at qmw.ac.uk wrote:

> >The contemporary theoretical locus classicus of the "ych" that we haven't
> >mentioned is Kristeva's discussion of abjection; paradigmatically, a
> >child's loathing of certain foods ("that skin on the surface of the
> >milk").  The abjected stuff is supposed to be the focus of primal
> >repression, including of the mother's body, so milk really is a
> >non-accidental example.
> >
> >Fanny Burney's description of her mastectomy (I know someone who wrote
> >about this) competes well with Pynchon's "Esther's nose job" episode in
> >_V._  She makes much of the potential erotic impropriety of the operation
> >(7 goggling doctors), and despite her apologies, her prose is mercilessly
> >enthusiastic about pursuing all the ych details.  Medical language
> >doesn't take us away from the obscenity of it at all.  To the contrary.
> >I'm wondering whether what's necessary to make something as ych as
> >possible is that kind of language: instrumental, purposive, hence
> >anti-aesthetic language.
> >
> >Rei Terada
> >Univ. of Michigan
> >
> >
I'm coming in late on this and don't fully follow, but I couldn't move 
past this last reply.  I also don't know if this "ych" you're talking 
about is some theoretically enhanced version of "ick" or what, but I can 
respond to the notion of a descriptive passage on a surgical procedure as 
"obscenity."  First, I am sure that the vantage makes a difference, 
especially relevant to your own experience as a patient.  When I first 
read of Esther's nose job, I was floored, shocked, weak-in-the-knees.  
That was before my craniotomy.  With major surgery comes the realization 
of one's powerlessness in the face of absolutely necessary medical 
expertise.  Obviously, in Esther's case, the obscenity lays more in the 
question of necessity, and, for me, the whole passage operates as a 
parallel to Hitler's rise and fall (or is it just his rise?)  In my case, 
there were no choices:  remove the tumor, or remove the tumor.  No 
argument over procedure;  only one way.  Anyhow, about the language, the 
medical language.  for me, it became VERY important to know all I could 
about the procedure.  I even asked my neurosurgeon, a week before the op, 
about the details, jokingly suggesting that he try to keep from looking 
at my face when my forehead was flapped down over to my chin, so that he 
wouldn't be so sickened by the sight that he'd intentionally screw up my 
surgery.  I asked him how long it would take to saw through my skull.  
After a few more juicy questions, he said, "this is pretty gruesome, 
don't you think?"  For me, these were perfectly rational, necessary 
questions, nothing obscene about it in the face of what I needed to 
know--and considering my need to experience a sense of his intimate 
knowledge of it.  Eventually, I began to use the terminology.  And today, 
I can tell people about arterial valves, right frontotemporal cranitomy 
for craniopharyngioma, disorders of the pitutiary and hypothalmus, 
microadenomas, tumors, staples, sutures, and all manner of what I think 
you're calling "ych."  And it's no big deal.  NOW, this isn't to say that 
I did not, myself, experience an overwhelming crush on about 4 out of 5 
of the doctors that helped me.  and believe me, that was the most obscene 
thing about it.  I mean, it was real and serious.  I think of it as an 
odd kind of coping.  Let one strong emotional funk replace the very real 
and very strong fear.  The fear was nearly gone.  Dr. Freeman, my 
neurosurgeon, commented months after the surgery, when my hormones were 
all messed and I was seeing him for help about it, that he was actually 
relieved to see some emotion, as he was frightened of my "stoic" attitude 
about such a major surgery.  You go on auto.  

. . . like I am now.  Using you all for my therapy.  NO, I'm great now.  
Sorry to carry on.  I hope this is relevant to your discussion. 

Bonnie