"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture
and, if possible, speak a few reasonable words." ~Goethe

~ also, if possible, to dwell in "a house where all's accustomed, ceremonious." ~Yeats

Monday, June 14, 2021

Signs, Symbols, Souvenirs

BUNTING ON THE FRONT DOOR
WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS
Happy Flag Day!
~ As seen on Amazon ~

"Within the operation of the souvenir, the sign functions not so much as object to object, but beyond this relation, metonymically, as object to event / experience. The ribbon may be metonymic to the corsage, but the corsage is in turn metonymic to an increasingly abstract, and hence increasingly 'lost,' set of referents: the gown, the dance, the particular occasion, the particular spring, all springs, romance, etc.

" . . . the souvenir . . . will still exist as a sample of the now - distanced experience, an experience which the object can only evoke and resonate to and can never entirely recoup"
(136).

from On Longing:
Narratives of the Miniature, the Gigantic,
the Souvenir, the Collection

by Susan Stewart [previously]
Sorting through my grandparents' belongings, I felt the truth of Stewart's words when I came across dozens of funeral ribbons. Many of them are inscribed, in my grandfather's handwriting, with names, dates, and other small notations pertaining to the deceased. In the case of these memorial ribbons, the "lost referent" is so much more than the particular event. Every ribbon evokes not only a long - ago funeral, wake, or graveside service but also the entire life span of each and every loved one represented. Truly, as Stewart observes, the souvenir in this case can evoke but never recoup the distant experience of a completed human life.

In her essay "Language and Thought," American philosopher Susanne K. Langer (1895 – 1985) provides this insightful distinction: "The difference between a sign and a symbol is, in brief, that a sign causes us to think or act in face of the thing signified, whereas a symbol causes us to think about the thing symbolized':
"To us who are human, it -- i.e., 'purely sign using' -- does not sound very glorious. We want to go places and do things, own all sorts of gadgets that we do not absolutely need, and when we sit down to take it easy we want to talk. Rights and property, social position, special talents and virtues, and above all our ideas, are what we live for. . . . because we can use not only signs but symbols.

"A symbol differs from a sign in that it does not announce the presence of the object, the being, condition, or whatnot, which is its meaning, but merely brings this thing to mind. . .symbols . . . call up . . . a conception of the thing they 'mean.'

" . . . Because we have not only the ability but the constant need of conceiving what has happened to us, what surrounds us, what is demanded of us . . . our hopes and fears . . . Our whole reaction depends on how we manage to conceive the situation . . . we must construe the events of life.
" [emphasis in original]
This is what the dried flowers and ribbons do; they "bring to mind" the deceased, and the loss, and the passage of time. Beyond reminding us of the day of mourning, they help us conceive what has happened to us and those around us. They represent our hopes and, particularly in the face of death, our fears. Langer says that "what we cannot conceive is chaos, and fills us with terror." To restore order, we construe a narrative of death and remembrance. In addition to what we can remember (or not), every souvenir ccontributes to that narrative. All the funeral mementoes, prayer cards, program leaflets and newspaper clippings are samples, symbols of the dearly departed.

In Jennifer Saint's recent novel Ariadne, the character Dionysus beautifully conveys his understanding of human mortality. Despite his power and immortality, he wonders, just as we do:
"Why mortals bloomed like flowers and crumbled to nothing. Why their absence left a gnawing ache, a hollow void that could never be filled. And how everything they once were, that spark within them, could be extinguished so completely yet the world did not collapse under the weight of so much pain and grief. . . . I have felt the gaping wound and the bruised, ragged edges of grief. I know that human life shines more brightly because it is but a shimmering candle against an eternity of darkness, and it can be extinguished with the faintest breeze" (176 - 79).
I fanned the collection of funeral ribbons into a colorful arc and perceived them not as signs, referring "to actual situations, in which things have obvious relations to each other that require only to be noted" but as symbols, referring "to ideas, which are not physically there for inspection, so their connections and features have to be represented" (Langer, emphasis added). Thanks to the writing of Susan Stewart, Susanne K. Langer, and Jennifer Saint, I was able to see each preserved ribbon as the souvenir of a shimmering candle, a shining spark of human life that had been dear to those before me, whether I knew them or not.

[For more from Langer, see Safe Home & Dreamscape]

Next Fortnightly Post
Monday, June 28

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts ~ Hello Vaca! ~
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading ~ Ariadne ~
www.kittislist.blogsppot.com

1 comment:

  1. Another favorite passage from Susanne K. Langer:

    "The sounds, intended or unintended, whereby animals communicate do not constitute a language, because they are signs, not names. . . . but symbols refer to ideas, which are not physically there for inspection, so their connections and features have to be represented. This gives all true language a natural tendency toward growth and development, which seems almost like a life of its own. Languages are not invented; they grow with our need for expression.

    "In contrast, animal “speech” never has a structure. It is merely an emotional response. Apes may greet their ration of yams with a shout of “‘Nga” But they do not ‘‘Nga’’ between meals. If they could talk about their yams instead of just saluting them, they would be the most primitive men instead of the most anthropoid of beasts. They would have ideas, and tell each other things true or false, rational or irrational; they would make plans and invent laws and sing their own praises, as we do."

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