Present Without Memory: Self-Forgetfulness, Omniscience and Non-Narration in the 2003 State of the Union Speech and in Lautréamont's Maldoror

The Narrator Returns

In his 2004 essay "Omniscience," Jonathon Culler troubles the generally tranquil critical waters that surround the concept of the omniscient narrator. Given its suspiciously standardized usage in literary analysis, it's not wholly surprising that Culler characterizes the omniscient narrator as an unexamined "notion" poorly grounded in theoretical discourse (22). Yet what he describes as an overdue need for greater "critical scrutiny" only partially explains Culler's recent revived interest in narratological concerns (22). As he reflects, his return to the literary topic of omniscience was somewhat influenced by the specter of omniscience in contemporary politics: most notably the "political fantasy" of omniscience espoused by President George W. Bush—who, as Culler writes, "is convinced of the infallibility of his judgment of evil in its accordance with God's" (22). For Culler, the use of narrative terminology is as unexamined in political discourse as it is in narrative poetics.

Though initially Culler addresses political discourse, he quickly dispenses with it as his essay returns to the more constrained boundaries of literary inquiry. Yet the mere mention of politics in the context of narrative analysis is both odd and telling: Bush's claim to omniscience nags at Culler precisely because, as I argue, political actors in recent years have become unusually adept at exploiting the craft and terms of narration that are traditionally the terrain of fiction writers. Indeed, political pundits are increasingly employing the terms of literary criticism in their analyses of political narratives. In the essay that follows, I take a "hybrid" approach to narrative by reading through invocations of the narrator in both the political realm (specifically, the 2003 State of the Union speech) and in a work of fiction (Lautréamont's Maldoror)—an approach that ultimately throws into question the often formulaic references to narrative in both literary and political discourse. To this end, Lautréamont's Maldoror is a key text in the comparison precisely because it is foundational to the work of prominent theorists such as Jacques Derrida and Maurice Blanchot whose examination of narrative voice may help to better clarify the references to, and function of, narrators in contemporary political discourse. Blanchot's work on narrative voice here is particularly vital: whereas critiques of narrative in contemporary politics focus on the formation and origin of ideas as they are transmitted through political narratives (from authors to readers and listeners), Blanchot emphasizes how a system of language—specifically the properties of literary language—can subtly and overtly influence the development of narrative. In short, Blanchot targets the core aspects of narrative that allow ideas to develop through language.

In this respect, I contrast Blanchot's theory of narration with the work of political critics and analysts such as George Lakoff (in Don't Think of an Elephant) and Thomas Frank (in What's the Matter With Kansas?) who are most interested in the use of narrative frameworks that are employed to further the interests and ideologies of political actors. Inevitably, Lakoff and Frank tend to focus on the origins of a particular narrative—which is to say, on authorial intention—on the message crafted and disseminated through a narrative, and this focus closely patterns literary conceptions of the relationship between author/narrative/reader. Indeed, Lakoff and Frank emphasize the conscious decisions made by the actors who craft political narratives, whereas Blanchot veers away from questions of authorial consciousness and intentionality. Indeed, while critics such as Lakoff and Frank argue that powerful political narratives are disseminated in the media by savvy authors to sway their target audiences—and that the resulting regimen of interlaced narrative frames demands a critical method for unraveling their construction—they do little to evaluate the fundamental terms that ground their investigation. Instead, the use of the term "narrative" to describe ideas that dominate political discourse today often conflates "narration" with "fiction," "spin," even "lies," thereby broadening the sphere of inquiry. What is now timely—what has been needed for some time—is a more finely...