The Book of Touch
Edited by Constance Classen. Berg: Oxford and New York 2005. 461 pp.
The Book of Touch is the 3rd installment of Berg Publishers Sensory Formations Series. This collection documents the work of Concordia University’s Sensoria Research Team, and states as its aim to understand “the role of the senses in history, culture and aesthetics, by redressing […] the hegemony of vision and privileging of discourse in contemporary theory and cultural studies […]”. The volume surveyed here challenges conventional ways of seeing, knowing and experiencing the world by examining various functions and qualities of touch as the most elusive of our senses. Its editor Constance Classen applies a comparative approach to sensory experiences and expressions with the aim to ultimately rehabilitate tactile perception.
In her introduction Classen refers to touch as the “hungriest sense of postmodernity” (2), suggesting that little is left to feel in a society dominated by images. With the recent proliferation of cultural turns one might now sceptically anticipate yet another turn – a
‘tactile’ turn, let’s say. The editor on her part is careful not to overstress the scope of tactile culture within anthropology’s recently rediscovered sensory project. Instead, she situates the sense of touch amongst other cultural practices, grounding it in personal experience as well as social life. In her formulation, touch is not only a private act, but a fundamental medium for the expression, experience and contestation of social values and hierarchies (1). In what may be considered a pioneering approach, Classen acknowledges the influence of French philosophers Deleuze & Guattari, Derrida, Irigaray and Nancy who reflected on the subject of tactility in the late twentieth century. Drawing on this background, she amplifies its scope by dealing with the sense of touch in non-Western cultures while avoiding the habit of emphasising touch as mere physicality.
Assimilating the texts of philosophers, novelists and anthropologists, The Book of Touch is divided into nine sections, each containing a multitude of essays and dictums on the given theme. The collection approaches questions such as ‘How is touch developed differently across cultures?’ ‘What are the boundaries of pain and pleasure?’ or ‘Is there a politics of touch?’ and refers to topics ranging from a nineteenth-century account of phantom limb pain to recent reflections on the handling of photographs.
Part One is entitled Contact and grounds on the premise that we learn a “mother touch” along with a mother tongue. Engaging and conversing with other people is not limited to language, but also involves Tactile Communication, as Ruth Finnegan’s first chapter explores with regard to the social conventions of touch. In a comparable manner David Howes’ article Skinscapes. Embodiment, Culture, and Environment, employs the category of “skin knowledge” as a way of investigating the imprint of social values and environmental perceptions upon the body’s surface. Drawing on ethnographic examples from various indigenous as well as Western cultural contexts, Howes demonstrates how one’s material environment — i.e. landscape — is linked to the ‘skinscape’. He suggests that by living in urbanised, technologised Western societies “we are perhaps not so likely to think of our bodies as pastoral landscapes irrigated by rivers but we may well think of them as cityscapes, connected by road systems, communication systems and waterworks, and charged by electricity, which at times runs low” (36). Howes ends his text with some rather disturbing thoughts regarding the possible future role of ‘skincapes’ matching the virtual landscapes of cyberspace.
In the introduction to the second part of the book, entitled Pleasure, Classen comments on the sparsity of this subject within scholarly discourse. Unsurprisingly, the chapters do not deal with pleasure as a corporeal sensation as much as they consider the socio-historical development of values in relation to physical pleasures. While John E. Crowley demonstrates that the concept of bodily comfort is a development of the eighteenth century — prior to which clothing, furniture and housing had been understood as indicators of social status rather than as commodities enhancing physical comfort —, geographer Yi-Fu Tuan warns that the ongoing restriction of touch will break our sense of connectedness with the material world and, eventually, our possibilities for aesthetic enjoyment. A comparison of Jean-Paul Sartre’s and Simone de Beauvoir’s philosophical concepts of touch in the last essay of this section reveals some significant and hitherto underappreciated differences in the two philosopher’s notions of eros and the appropriation of the other.
Part three is entitled Pain and makes extensive (critical) use of Michel Foucault’s writings on discipline, punishment and the power relations implicated in torture and physical suffering. Conceived as the “counterpleasure” in postmodernity (MacKendrick 1999), the sensation of pain is assigned an intensity of experience, increasingly equated to authenticity. The vocabulary and metaphors of pain employed in the assembled texts are remarkably rich.
Most especially, Judy Pugh’s The Language of Pain in India provides meticulous descriptions of physical and psychological suffering that reflect the underlying “integrated mind-body system” in Indian culture (118). The Tortures of the Inquisition and the Invention of Modern Guilt by Ariel Glucklich and Sex, Pain and the Marquis de Sade by David B. Morris are meanwhile prescient in linking pain to the concept of guilt, suggesting that the intentional infliction of suffering and pain constitutes the ‘internalisation’ of a system of social control.
Part Four, Male Bonding, and Part Five, Women’s Touch, are dedicated to the construction of masculine and feminine identities. Classen starts off with the observation that “[o]ne of the key features of masculine touch […] seems to be how it is used among men to express ideals of manliness, establish social hierarchies and ensure group solidarity” (155). One of the outstanding texts, Intimacy and Gender in the Trenches of the First World War, illustrates how norms of tactile contact between men and concepts of masculinity changed profoundly during the First World war, a war that so extraordinarily brutalised the male body yet paradoxically allowed for “fear, vulnerability, support and physical tenderness” (195). The two texts on Imperial Touch: Schooling Male Bodies in Colonial India deal with concepts of cleanliness and physical habits, shedding light on the imperial practices of disciplining the
‘colonised body’. They are particularly rewarding when read in comparison to the Doon
School Chronicles, a series of ethnographic films made by David MacDougall between 1997-
2000 that explore the importance of tactility to education and discipline in an elite Indian all- boy school.
Women’s Touch deals with the controversial concept of women as touch and focuses mainly on female handiwork. Be rural China, eighteenth and nineteenth-century England or early twentieth-century Paris, skillful manipulation of material and ‘craftswomanship’ has been crucial not only in securing a means of subsistence, but also in developing an alternative feminine aesthetic. It signifies an important antipode to the growing dematerialisation and the of loss physical reality of our world (Richard Sennett’s forthcoming book on craftsmanship elaborates on this theme). Other texts in the section include stirring descriptions of women’s foot binding in China and childbirth in an Inuit community.
Control, the sixth part of the volume, covers subjects as diverse as Norbert Elias’ view of medieval manners, the mechanisms of touch in a Victorian prison and the rules of touch in modern museums. The assembled texts reveal contemporary Western discourse concerning the control of touch as “an essential means of establishing and maintaining an orderly world”
(259), arising “from anxieties about the vulnerability of the social body – and ultimately, of individual bodies – to invasion and violation” (262). Elias’ text on dining habits in the Middle Ages is particularly revealing in demonstrating how the increased regulation of the sense of touch and the heightened awareness of body boundaries has come to be considered a vital part of the civilising process. Classen labels the modern etiquette of keeping one’s hand to oneself as “hands-off policy” (260). She describes how in the early museums of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the exhibits on display were explicitly expected to being touched; over time, with the increased importance of sight, the sense of touch lost its intellectual and aesthetic value. Philip Priestley’s significant study on Victorian prison life complements Foucault’s analysis of visual surveillance in the modern prison (1979) by taking into consideration the important aspect of prisoners’ tactile disciplining and the institutionalised re-education of their sense of touch. What makes the section on Control so interesting is the combined analysis of the disruptive power of unregulated tactility and its connection to the current crisis of security in Western society.
Part Seven is entitled Uncommon Touch and comprises a collection of texts on rather obscure tactile experiences, as for instance the chapter on Visceral Perception demonstrates. Drawing the attention to an inner world not customarily associated with sensory perception, the article’s author Drew Leder investigates the “perceptual reticence of our viscera as compared to the body surface” (338). Noting that our interoceptive vocabulary is mostly developed in relation to pain, Leder elucidates that the “hiddenness” of our visceral organs is essential to their healthy functioning: they require seclusion from the external world just as the sensorimotor body requires exposure. Other chapters in the section dealing with the sensual consequences of amputation, paralysis, phantom limb pain, blindness, loss of the sense of smell or the so-called “locked-in syndrome” take an interest in the experience and perception of people with an altered or heightened awareness of touch. In direct contrast, the futurist F.T. Marinetti’s 1921 essay on Tactilism contains an early plea to view touch as an art form, anticipating a time when people would “contribute indirectly toward the perfection of spiritual communication [...] through the epidermis” (331). For me, however, the outstanding text is Temple Grandin’s Autism and “The Squeeze Machine”, a vivid and haunting account of her experiences as an autistic child. She recalls how she secured her body boundaries by inventing a “squeeze machine” – a box with panels to squeeze her body – which eventually helped her find some security and relax. The examples presented in Uncommon Touch also leave a strong impression on the reader, sensitising his/her own ability for tactile experiences.
Part eight, Tactile Therapies, is about healing practices and alternative medicines applied to touch. Beginning with Jesus as “the best-known example of a tactile healer in the West” (347), Classen draws from various examples of therapeutic touch ranging from more familiar practices such as physiotherapy to Non-Western medical procedures such as acupuncture, sweat baths, Ayurvedic massage, qigong, yogic exercise and therapeutic dance. S.V. Govindan’s article, for example, traces the roots of massage in both Asian and Western cultures back to 2500 BC and illustrates the benefits of tactile Ayurvedic medicine for strengthening both body and mind. The idea of healing through touch, however, exceeds the mere medical field in so far, as it is also frequently associated with magic or supernatural influences, as the case of ‘royal touch’ illustrates. In his essay, The King’s Touch, Keith Thomas examines the widespread medieval believe that the touch of the sovereigns of England or France could cure scrofula, also called ‘King’s Evil’. The custom survived well into the eighteenth century, when it increasingly came to be regarded as superstitious and died out. Touch is nevertheless still closely related to religious as well as secular power and plays an important role in the affirmation of social orders and roles. Roy Porter’s text on the physician’s touch in eighteenth-century England, for instance, shows that tactility in a medical context is not just simply related to the notion of cure but can also be perceived as “a performance in which the physician enacts his identity through a set of established procedures and conforms his right above all, to touch and penetrate the body” (349). The articles in this section help to clarify that medical or healing touch does not only concern treatment, but also examination and diagnosis and is thus far from being limited to so-called ‘alternative therapies.’
The ninth and final part — Touch and Technology — deals with the acceleration of machines and bodies. All the assembled texts analyse ways in which modernity has changed, or continue to change, human perception. Taking into consideration the physical interaction between bodies and machines, the commodification of touch and telepresence as an out-of- the-body experience, this section provides a compact outline of the role tactility plays in digital technology. On this note, Dorinne Kondo’s Artisans and Machines in Japan argues that industrialisation is not necessarily opposed to craftsmanship. People in Japan who perceive themselves as working with machines do not necessarily feel as alienated as is often assumed in the West; Kondo locates the reason for the effortlessness handling of modern technologies in the traditional Shinto spirits considered to inhabit inanimate objects and,
therefore, mechanical devices too. Susan Kozel’s description of Experiences of a Virtual Body derive from her participation in an art installation called “Telematic Dreaming” in which she visually detached herself from her body by projecting her image into another room. The audience’s reactions to the artist’s projected self were transmitted back to the artist from where she could then move her body in response. Taking part in the experiment for a month, Kozel realised that one’s internalised behaviour does not easily change along with an alteration of one’s appearance. She describes how her personal experience did not correspond to the cyber-feminist paradigm of cyberspace as a liberating disembodied space in which age, sex and race do not matter. She nevertheless proposes that virtual reality might potentially offer “a space for us to recognize the tendency for our prejudices and conditioning to be carried forward, and to work at a new way to interrelate” (445). The volume concludes with an epigrammatic note on data streams and virtual touch.
In brief introductory chapters that precede each section, Classen contextualises and summarises the selected passages. Nonetheless, the metaphors she uses to describe the organisation of the sections and the images she uses are often rather clumsy. The compilation also regrettably makes very little use of the writings of Merleau-Ponty and/or Luce Irigaray, although Classen acknowledges their influence on issues concerning tactile culture and kinaesthetic perception in her preface to the volume. Igrigaray’s remarkable statement in An Ethics of Sexual Difference that “God is always entrusted to the look and never sufficiently imagined as tactile bliss” (1993:162) could have enhanced further reflections on the contradiction inherent in the concept of a solitary spectator-god, as well as on gendered renderings of touch in general. Notwithstanding, the volume presents a very well informed and inspiring collection of academic as well as literary sources carefully extracted from a seemingly endless reservoir of writings on the subject of touch across cultures and times.
The Book of Touch is definitely a book that invites its readers to rummage through – an eminently tactile practice that corresponds to the sensory value of books as described by Classen in her introductory remarks (7). It is a precious collection for anyone interested in the formation of the senses yet might be dissatisfying for readers who expect a systematic overview of the topic. At times, The Book of Touch appears like a random compilation of aphorisms whereas at other times it gives the impression of a profound hotchpotch that makes the evasive and often inarticulate sense of touch tangible. The editor herself describes The Book of Touch as “a compilation of the expected and the unexpected” (4) – meaning, I
suppose, that the book occasionally refers to the obvious whilst also holding a number of truly imaginative and surprising sections. In short, this is a superb and infuriatingly diverse anthology.
Michaela Schäuble, University College London
References cited:
Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. New York: Vintage Books,
1997.
Irigaray, Luce. An Ethics of Sexual Difference. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1993. MacKendrick, Karmen. Counterpleasures, Albany: State University of New York Press,
1999
Sennett, Richard: The Craftsman. New Haven: Yale University Press (forthcoming 2007)
No comments:
Post a Comment