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841
One major assumptionof cognitive poetics is that poetry exploits for aesthetic
purposescognitive (includinglinguistic)processesthat were initiallyevolvedfor
non-aestheticpurposes.... In certainextremebut centralcases,this modification
may become "organizedviolence againstcognitive structuresand processes",to
paraphrasethe famousslogan of RussianFormalism.... quite a few (but by no
meansall) centralpoetic effectsarethe resultof some drasticinterferencewith, or
at least delayof, the regularcourseof cognitiveprocesses,and the exploitationof
its effectsfor aestheticpurposes.In otherwords,the cognitivecorrelatesof poetic
processesmust be describedin three respects:normalcognitiveprocesses;some
kind of modificationor disturbanceof these processes;and their reorganization
accordingto differentprinciples.(8)
phrases, periods, theme-groups, sections, and the piece itself' (12); meter ac-
counts for inferences the hearer draws-"the listener instinctively infers a regular
pattern of strong and weak beats to which he relates the actual musical sounds"
(12); and reductionrepresents "the listener['s] attempts to organize all the pitch-
events of a piece into a single coherent structure, such that they are heard as in a
hierarchy of relative importance" (106). For each of these types of structure,
Lerdahl and Jackendoff posit two kinds of rules: "well-formednessrules, which
specify the possible structural descriptions, and preferencerules, which designate
out of the possible structural descriptions those that correspond to experienced
listeners' hearings of any particular piece" (9). Taken together, they characterize
the possible interactions between quite different types of musical intuitions.
In RhythmicPhrasing in English Verse,Cureton attempts to apply this ap-
proach to English poetry, focusing on what he calls "rhythmicphrasing ... those
aspects of rhythmic response that are not metrical . . . Meter presents the basic
'beat' of the verse. Phrasing represents how the text is segmented into parts and
how those parts move, both in themselves and in relation to other parts"(x). Both
rhythm and phrasing have traditionally been understood as relatively local phe-
nomena, limited to the phrase or clause and seldom extended even as far as the
sentence. Cureton conceives of both terms (and their conjunction) more globally:
"a prosodic theory... should be able to tell us what language structures charac-
teristically produce a rhythmic response, how individual responses are combined
into more complex organizations, and how these more complex structures in turn
affect the perceiving subject (perceptually, emotively, and conceptually)" (6). By
concentrating on grouping and prolongation (which corresponds to Lerdahl and
Jackendoff's reduction), he is able to demonstrate how grouping at successive
levels, beginning with individual syllables, eventually leads to the level of the
entire poem.
Grouping is accomplished by means of nine well-formedness rules specifying
what constitutes a well-formed group, and seventeen preference rules (the final
one itself including over fifty subcategories), which readers use "to construct
grouping schemes they prefer" from the material that is provided by the text
(191). The well-formedness rules specify groups of at most seven members with
one strong constituent and no more than three contiguous weak constituents;
these groups combine at increasingly higher levels into more and more inclusive
groups until the level of the entire text, itself the largest group, is reached (190).
How readers do this is the province of the preference rules, which suggest
preferring groups that informationally contain other groups (#1), have two or
three members (#9- #11), are prosodic domains or syntactic constituents (#12),
and contain similar linguistic forms (#13). The peaks, or strong constituents, are
similarly identified: preference is given to those which are physically or linguis-
846 COLLEGE ENGLISH
tically "heavy" (#2), are either linguistically dense or a linguistic change (#4, #6),
are in final position in a group or are formal returns (#3, #5), and are heavily
stressed (#7).
Prolongation derives from readers' "generic expectation for a certain sort of
canonical global movement" in poetry:
The structuralbeginning of the text raises some identifiableissue about human
experience(whatwe might traditionallyidentifyas a theme).The body of the text
explores this issue with description,narrativeor argument, complicatingand
elaboratingthe hermeneuticalproblem.Then the structuralendingresolvesthese
complicationsand elaborationsin some satisfyingway.(149)
Cureton defines three prolongational units: the arrival, which represents a struc-
tural goal; the anticipation, which moves toward the goal; and the extension,
which moves awayfrom a goal, "elaboratingand complicatingits implications"
(147). All three generally coincide with structural groups and are more relevant
at the higher levels of analysis where syntax becomes more dominant in deter-
mining grouping structure.
Meter, grouping, and prolongation interact to provide a rich orchestration
of rhythm in a poem:
In manytextualunits,meterbeginswith a strongbeat,projectsa measure,andthen
winds down. Groupingbuildssteadilyand peaksat the end of the measure.And
prolongationsuggestsa structuralgoal, then tenselydepartsfrom that suggestion,
then anticipates a goal, and then achieves it . . . I take this result as one of the
strongestpossibleargumentsfor a componentialtheoryof rhythm.This elegantly
complementaryrelationbetweenthe three componentsdoes not seem accidental.
(150)
In extended analysesof Hopkins's"The Windhover,"Yeats's"When You Are
Old," and a section fromWilliamCarlosWilliams'sPaterson,Curetonsensitively
demonstratesthe intricateinterplayof these three components,beginningwith
the syllableand moving to the poem as a whole, demonstratingquite clearlythat
the traditionalview of rhythmas a decidedlylocal effect is unnecessarilylimited.
His readingsrevealan extensiveand delicateinteractionof movementsof various
kindswithin the poems,with implicationsfor both criticismandpedagogy(which
he presentsin a final chapter).
The most significantcontributionof Cureton'sbook for us is its adaptation
of preferencerules to explainthe process of rhythmicperception.Lerdahland
Jackendoffderivedthese from Gestalttheoriesof visualgrouping(40) to applyto
musicalgrouping,andJackendoffin Semantics andCognition andotherworkswent
on to explore what he calls "the ubiquity of preference rule systems" (the title of
one section in Semanticsand Cognition)in visual and musical perception, word
meanings (135-51), phonology (153), syntax and semantics (153-54), pragmatics
(155-56), and what he calls "real life" (156). Because preference rules do not
THE COGNITIVE PARADIGM IN LITERARY STUDIES 847
rigidly determine result but specify tendencies and allow for variation in different
applications, they can be useful in explaining not only the kinds of interpreta-
tion-musical, linguistic, rhythmical-that Cureton and Lerdahl and Jackendoff
arrive at, but also the range of interpretations of literary and musical composi-
tions. Specifically, Cureton's approach suggests a way to account for two "striking
facts" about interpretation identified some time ago by Jonathan Culler: "how it
is that a work can have a variety of meanings but not just any meaning whatsoever
or how it is that some works give an impression of strangeness, incoherence,
incomprehensibility" when "reading poetry is a rule-governed process of produc-
ing meanings" (Culler 122, 126). Through preference rules, reading practices can
be characterized formally without imposing a static conceptual template, and this
allows for the inclusion of incompatible or competing tendencies within and
between interpretive communities. In this sense, the use of preference rules has
obvious relevance to Stanley Fish's interpretive communities (Is ThereA TextIn
This Class? and Doing What ComesNaturally), to Eugene Kintgen's attempt to
define reader's preferred cognitive strategies (The Perceptionof Poetry), and to
Norman Holland's more recent distinction between codes (which all members of
a culture share) and canons (which are more idiosyncratic) (The CriticalI).
Given Cureton's reliance on preference rules, however, it is strange that he
stipulates a single form of meter, adopting Lerdahl's and Jackendoff's well-
formedness rules for musical meter while ignoring their preference rules. The
result is that meter for Cureton is a given, not infrequently at odds with the
phonological stresses in a given line, a view which, as he proudly admits, "differs
radically from the 400 years of discussion of meter in the English tradition" (134).
In favor of his position is the opportunity for increased tension between grouping
and meter and even between linguistic stress and meter, but one wonders whether
a relatively rich conception of meter designed for Western music can be simpli-
fied and applied directly to English poetry. For instance, while Lerdahl and
Jackendoff's restriction of meter to duple and triple patterning corresponds fairly
well to hearers' intuitions about stresses in music written in 2/4, 4/4, 3/4, or 6/8
time, they admit that some musical idioms (e.g. some compositions by Stravinsky
or Claude le Jeune, a sixteenth-century composer) require different well-formed-
ness rules (97-99). But duple and triple patterning is not at all an obvious way to
describe iambic pentameter, which requires both kinds of pattern in each line, and
one wonders whether other metrical well-formedness rules, formulated specifi-
cally for iambic pentameter, might not have been worth exploring.
Finally, we should point out that preference rules, impressive as they may
appear in accounting for a range of interpretations, constitute only one of several
mechanisms proposed for explaining human categorization. Preference rules, as
Jackendoff develops them, are an attempt, within the general paradigm of
Chomskyan linguistics, to account for recent evidence regarding categorization,
848 COLLEGE ENGLISH
approaches within the formalist enterprise have at least this in common: they
are all system oriented and all attempt to neutralize the individual contribution"
(12). Babuts's project is motivated by his sense that these critical approaches-
from American New Criticism through French structuralism to Derridean
deconstruction-rely on erroneous conceptions of the relation between minds,
language, and the world: "Language becomes self-sufficient, self-reflexive, and
self-questioning, and it loses its referential power" (13-14). Formalist theories
attempt to treat language as entirely self-sufficient, as systems of codes or
conglomerations of arbitrary signs, but nevertheless they must ultimately posit
some model of cognition and memory to mediate between language and the
outside world. Babuts rightly criticizes them for accepting without evidence
congenial models of memory while ignoring recent scientific investigations of
these areas and recommends incorporating the empirical findings of cognitive
science into critical discussion: "Just as we require intuition in our research, so
too we need cognitive data about meaning in our philosophical meditations.
Without such data we cannot hope to provide answers to the questions that really
matter" (15).
For instance, the French structuralists, confronted with the failure of Ameri-
can New Criticism and European formalism to account for the relation between
language and the world, merely denied that any such relation existed: "Instead of
striving for a new integration," Babuts observes, "they simply disengaged lan-
guage from the attraction of reality. At one stroke they appeared to have solved
a most intractable problem" (29). This maneuver proves unsatisfactory because it
distances language from humanity and ultimately renders language-understood
as the interaction of networks of signifiers-literally meaningless: "the concern
with the plurality of the system has done away with the creative and charac-
teristically human faculties involved in both reading and writing. I am not deny-
ing the existence of codes; I am only saying that they are not sufficient to produce
meaning" (33-34). In its attempt to formulate a comprehensive theory of signifi-
cation, French structuralism actually impoverishes itself by ignoring the human
mind-the very site of meaning and creativity-altogether.
As an alternative to these "formalist" critical theories, Babuts sets out to
develop a cognitive approach to literature. For Babuts, "the fundamental premise
of a cognitive view is that both reading and writing are memory dominated" (49).
He proposes a theory of "mnemonic potentials"-defined as "endogenous repre-
sentational patterns in memory, which play a crucial role in the integration and
recognition of incoming stimuli" (164)-to formalize this insight: "These mne-
monic potentials represent both encoding skills and knowledge of the value of the
dynamic patterns encountered and of their potential context" (108). These pat-
terns are organized into larger "metaphoric fields" within which meaning is
created and interpreted in light of some dominant concern (164). Babuts'snotion
850 COLLEGE ENGLISH
is that authors encode the meaning which emerges from these fields in their texts
and readers reconstruct it in interpretation:
quite possibly wrong and often too vague to be of much interest. In the worst
cases, he couches his claims in an idiosyncratic pseudo-scientific vocabulary
which obscures the specificity and significance of his observations: "I propose that
recognition is accomplished through the meeting and integration of stimulus
sequences and the mnemonic sequences of the cerebral potentials. These poten-
tials represent the synapses that have been activated by an act of attention or by
the preliminary recognition of the stimulus" (52). If Babuts here is saying merely
that when recognition occurs, certain neurons increase their activity, his observa-
tion is trivial. If, on the other hand, he is remarking upon the way neurons
function, he gives no evidence to support his claim.
A corollary difficulty is that Babuts's decision to emphasize the neural level
prevents him from making useful distinctions regarding the interpretation of
texts. If his "cognitive approach" is to have any utility, it must be able to differ-
entiate between different readings and account, in a systematic way, for variations
in literary interpretation. It is not enough to say the "mnemonic potentials"
interact in "metaphoric fields"; Babuts should be able to show specifically how
the interaction created by reading one text differs from the interaction produced
by reading another. Discussing his reading of Faulkner's "A Rose for Emily," for
instance, he observes: "My impending act of reading is already modulated by all
the knowledge I have of Faulkner and of some of his other stories; specific
mnemonic potentials are alerted; and a certain metaphoric space is prepared"
(134). This remark is not an explanation of anything, because it could apply
equally to any text by any author.
These faults are compounded by Babuts's odd decision to ignore most of the
recent research in the fields-neuroscience and cognitive psychology-to which
he specifically appeals. In the chapter called "Mnemonic Principles," which
provides the scientific background for the theory, for instance, Babuts refers to
practically no work published within the last decade (two articles published in
1982 are the most recent of over thirty references). He justifies this by admitting
in his introduction that he "decided neither to accept concepts or data because
they are new, nor to reject them because they are old" (11), but one must still
wonder whether he might not have found something in the explosion of work
during the last decade that would have engaged his interest, particularly in the
work on concept formation and cognitive representations.
Finally, Babuts offers little that is new for practical criticism. The cognitive
view of literature, he writes, "should encourage individual readings and interpre-
tations that stay close to the actual contact with the text and that attempt to reach
the identity of its metaphoric field" (123). Babuts's theory of reading is thus little
more than an attempt to reinscribe authorial intention by reference to authors'
and readers' cognitive processing. His suggestions that the "reader'smeaning is a
re-creation in terms of his or her own imagination, a reencoding, of the author's
852 COLLEGE ENGLISH
meaning," and that "Faith in our coding processes allows us to believe that we as
readers can recover the identity of the author's message and make its meaning our
own" (131) owes more to E. D. Hirsch's 1967 Validityin Interpretationthan to
anything in cognitive science or even in literary theory published since Hirsch's
book. What Babuts provides, finally, is a highly conservative theory of interpre-
tation based on close reading of texts justified by a problematic appeal to contem-
porary neuroscience.
Like Babuts, Mark Turner, in ReadingMinds: The Study of English in the Age
of Cognitive Science, looks to cognitive science to correct what he perceives as
shortcomings in contemporary critical theory. But his ability to conduct the
discussion at an appropriate level of explanation and his familiarity with and
application of current research in such areas as categorization, perception, and
metaphor theory allow him to avoid Babuts's principal faults and to produce a
cogent and convincing argument for the applicability-and even centrality-of
cognitive science to literary studies. Reading Minds begins with an essay that
surveys the current state of literary studies and argues for the reconstitution of
the study of English around questions of human cognition. The first and second
chapters introduce basic concepts about the body and the mind which form the
foundation of Turner's approach. The body of the book-chapters 3 through
9-is comprised of seven fairly autonomous chapters which use findings from
cognitive psychology and cognitive linguistics-particularly those regarding hu-
man categorization, image schemas, and metaphor-to address questions of po-
etics, and conversely, address questions of cognition by looking at the structures
of specific literary texts. Chapter 10 argues that cultural literacy does not merely
entail knowing a certain body of information but requires familiarity with the
basic conventions upon which a cultural community relies to facilitate communi-
cation among its members. The final chapter sketches in a general way some
potential connections between cognitive science and critical theory. The book
does not purport to be a comprehensive treatment of any of the broad variety of
subjects it broaches, but attempts rather to blaze a trail for future interdisciplinary
research on language, literature, and the human mind.
Turner notes that although literary interpretation depends fundamentally on
the cognitive apparatuswhich gives rise to language, much critical theory assumes
and relies on erroneous notions of how the mind works. In an earlier book,
Turner observed that
Like Tsur, Cureton, and Babuts, Turner insists that literary scholars should
not justproduceinterpretationsbut shouldalso addressthe priorquestionof how
interpretationoccurs:
We takefor grantedour capacitiesto inventand interpret,and devoteourselvesto
exercisingthose capacitiesandpublishingthe results.It is the capacitiesthemselves
that need explaining.(19)
This conception of literary study, so similar to the one Jonathan Culler made
Poetics,neverthelessdiffersfrom Culler'sin its insistence
familiarin Structuralist
on the continuity between understanding literary language and understanding
naturallanguage.Culler similarlyprivilegedlanguage,but (specificallyinvoking
a parallel with Chomskyan generative grammar) argued that the understanding
of literature must use operations and processes different from, and supplementary
to, those requiredfor linguisticunderstanding:
The differentmeaningswhich the text acquirescannotthereforebe attributedto
one's knowledgeof languagebut must be ascribedto the specialconventionsfor
reading poetry which lead one to look at the languagein new ways, to make
relevantpropertiesof the languagewhich were previouslyunexploited,to subject
the text to a differentseriesof interpretiveoperations.(114)
For Culler, one understandslanguageby using a series of linguistic perceptual
strategies; poetry is understood by using a different set of poetic or literary
perceptual strategies.
For Turner,on the other hand, the processesby which literarylanguageis
understoodare only special applicationsof abilitieswhich underlieall linguistic
comprehension:
Most of the tools of poeticthoughtnot only existin everydaythoughtbut are
indispensableandirreducible there.Reasonandpoeticthoughtarenot mutually
theyareratherhypertrophies
exclusive; of a commonnucleusof humanimagina-
Structuresof languagesupposedlypoetic are ubiquitousand
tive capabilities.
in everyday
irreducible language.(20)
In Turner'seyes, the common and ordinaryfeaturesof language are the most
interesting, most complex, and most in need of explanation.Throughout his
book, he emphasizesthe constraintsour cognitive facultiesplace on the produc-
tion and receptionof texts.
Chapters5 through9 examinehow basic featuresof humancognition, like
the use of image schemas and analogiesto structureconcepts, manifest them-
selves in a variety of texts. Turner suggests that cognitive rhetoric can be ex-
ploited to conduct practical criticism at the level of the individual phrase, at the
level of the entire literary work organized in terms of a controlling conception or
metaphor, and at the level of the genre (149-50; see also 240-46). At the level of
the phrase, he focuses on analogy, "a blanket term to cover all cases in which we
understand one concept in terms of another concept" (121). Analogies or meta-
THE COGNITIVE PARADIGM IN LITERARY STUDIES 855
phors have three aspects: a source domain, a target domain, and a mapping "of
entities, relations, knowledge, reasoning patterns, image-schemas, and semantic
structure from the source to the target" (158). Basic-level metaphors connect
specific domains-LIFE IS A PLAY or DEATH IS DEPARTURE-and are
instantiations of generic-level metaphors which relate more abstract concepts
(or generic-level schemas), "basic ontological categories (such as entity, state,
event, action, and situation), aspects of beings..., event-shape..., causal rela-
tions..., image-schemas..., and modalities" (161). The generic-level meta-
phor EVENTS ARE ACTIONS, for instance, relates the abstract concepts
which allow us to conceive of events in more familiar terms of agent and activity:
"The boulder resisted all of our efforts to move it" (163). In this case, the event
(or non-event) of the boulder remaining stationary is conceived in terms of an
intentional action on its part. The mapping between the source and target tends
to be relatively constrained in basic metaphors, with entity corresponding to
entity and relation to relation, but more flexible in generic ones.
Similarly, the organization of whole texts reflects the structures which sup-
port human cognition. Throughout the book, Turner analyzes various literary
texts, from Bunyan'sPilgrim'sProgressto Pound's "Praise of Ysolte," to show how
their form emerges from such basic metaphors as LIFE IS A JOURNEY and
from commonplace forms of communication such as conversations and argu-
ments. Regarding genre, Turner speculates that our increasing knowledge of
human categorization will produce a reformation in our ways of making and
describing generic distinctions between literary texts. The notion that genres are
defined by criterial features which all the texts of that genre possess must be
abandoned in light of our knowledge of human categorization:
Given the cognitivescientificstudy of the natureof categories,we shouldnot be
surprisedto find effectsof the basiclevel in genre categories,or prototypeeffects
in genre categories,or metaphoricmembersof a genre category,or radialcatego-
ries within our conceptionof a given genre, or a gradientfrom the categoricalto
the analogicalin the ways literaryworks are connected, or (perhapsmost obvi-
ously) familyresemblanceas a creatorof genres,and so on. (150)
Finally, Turner speculates that cognitive rhetoric can provide valuable in-
sights into the connection between the mind and writing and our conceptions of
these entities, since, given this connection, "the activity of author and critic
depends automatically, unconsciously, centrally, and unavoidably upon just those
activities it is the project of cognitive rhetoric to analyze" (246). As Turner
himself observes, the special contribution of his book is not its exhaustive analysis
of any particular phenomenon but rather the suggestive way that it maps out
several possible connections between scientific and humanistic inquiries into
meaning, interpretation, and the mind.
It is precisely in these connections that we see the most promising potential
for the alliance between cognitive science and literary studies. For both, the
856 COLLEGE ENGLISH
WORKS CITED