Zehra
Çirak’s poem, “Kein Sand im Rad der Zeit [No Sand in the Wheel of Time],” from
her collection Fremde Flügel auf eigener
Schulter [Foreign Wing on a Familiar Shoulder] (1994), plays with the
referentiality of the lyric “I,” the poetic speaker. Çirak’s status as a
minority writer in Germany was established when she was awarded the
Adalbert-von-Chamisso Prize in 1989 (for young writers whose native tongue is
not German). In this “thing poem,” the speaker is a bicycle. However, it is not
just any bicycle, but a bicycle circulating dialogically between her work and
the tradition of political lyric poetry in Cold War and post-Cold War Germany.
Çirak’s poem references two others, Bertolt Brecht’s “Der Radwechsel [Wheel
Change]” (1953) and Günter Eich’s “Sand im Getriebe [Sand in the Gears]”
(1960). These two poems have a status beyond their texts—Brecht’s poem became
an example of the postwar notion of “political” art (art that is political
because it refuses political content); lines from Eich’s poem are well known
and have even become a slogan for the anti-globalization organization Attac. By pointing out its intertexts, I
read Çirak’s poem in dialogue with other works dealing with the
relation between the literary work and society, between literary referent and
social reference, because this, roughly speaking, is the terrain of dialogism. With
Brecht and Eich as points of reference, Çirak’s poem can be seen to raise
questions about how ethnic literature speaks the language of a national
literature, even as it takes place in the gap between the things and words of a
national language.
In
approaching this instance of intertextuality through the notion of dialogism, I
mean to highlight a structure of identification and dis-identification that is
at play in the figure of the poetic “I,” and which refers to the lyric
subject’s otherness to itself. I argue that Çirak’s minor poetry eschews its
expressive function vis-à-vis national literature and actively constructs the ambivalence
of the lyric “I” through a transformational dialogue with that literature
concerning the things of culture and the poetic language that purports to refer
to them. This raises a central question: how does the ambivalence of
the ethnic, dialogic, and lyric “I” invite us to think differently about the
politics of identity in the lyric speaker? Thinking about “ambivalence” as a
matter of dialogism, I take up the insight that the lyric speaker is at the same time an individual
(monological) moral subject and a collective (dialogic) social force. In “Word,
Dialogue, and Novel,” Julia Kristeva describes this ambivalence as the work’s
being constituted by both monological and dialogical spaces. Ambivalence is
another way of thinking about the radical alterity of dialogism, in contrast to
mere opposition of author and character.
My readings
of Çirak develop these ideas about the ambivalence of the lyric “I.” Çirak
engages with this gap in referentiality because in writing and speaking about
her poems she eschews the particularity of culture in favor of more universal
questions about identity, violence, and embodiment. As an author who
dis-identifies with her status as a minority writer, an attitude that is shared
by many artists and writers who refute their Turkish-German or other hyphenated
identity, she presents the central paradox of this dialogic referentiality as
how to read the ambivalence of ethnic identity within a national tradition. As
John Kim describes, and as bears out in scholarship on Çirak, this trend to
read “the specter of the autobiographical ‘self’ when reading the figure of the
ethnicized narrative ‘I’” (333)
extends to reading Çirak’s dis-identification with this identity as a part of
her poetry. Çirak scholar Marilya Veteto-Conrad presents a good example of this
when she describes this conflict that was there for Çirak between her poems being
read for “aesthetic value” versus primarily for their “ethnic origin.” Although
I arrive where Kim does in thinking how the parallel structures of ethnicity
and irony lead to the self’s “absolute negation
in ‘being’ nothing” (349), I find that dialogism allows the question of the ambivalence of this poetic identity to
be raised as an ethical and political question.
If, as I
argue, the terrain of dialogism is the relation between literary referent and
social reference, Çirak’s play with the referentiality of the poetic speaker
shifts the coordinates of subject and object with German lyric poetry. The critical
discourse of Migrationliteratur
challenges common understandings of dialogic communication “as a process in
which readers and characters engage as representatives of discrete worlds.” In The Turkish Turn in Contemporary German
Literature, Leslie Adelson proposes that such dialogism be understood
instead through the “riddle of referentiality,” a phrase that she uses to
indicate the chiasmic relation between figuration and referential meaning.
Adelson describes how this takes place as a dialogic encounter “between an
object of analysis and its interpreter, one that seeks to bridge a gap inherent
in the initial relationship” (24), but as she claims, critical work should aim
to keep open this gap rather than to close it. In poetry, the lyric “I” takes
place in this gap as a reference that arises in the ambivalence of thing and
word.
Theoretically,
these thoughts draw on the limitations of Bakhtin’s theory for dialogism, which
originate in his distinction between poetry and prose and his insistence on the
non-dialogic aspect of poetry. Paul de Man’s reading in “Dialogue and
Dialogism” of Bakhtin’s distinction between the “expressive” aspect of poetry
and the dialogical aspect of the novel resolves into a “separation of trope
from dialogism.” De Man thus points to how expression forms a limit of the
dialogic work, returning to questions of referentiality explored in thinking
about the literal and figural grounds of metaphor. Developing the critical work
of Adelson and Kim on referentiality, I advance this thinking about why poetry
does not count as a form of dialogism to think about why the dialogism of
migration and minority literature so often reduces the “I” to an expressive
voice. Another point of reference is Peter Hitchcock’s Dialogics of the Oppressed (1993), in which he proposes that Bakhtinian
aesthetic activity, which involves this structure of identification/dis-identification
(first as the author puts himself in the place of the character and then as he
moves away from this identification (47)) makes the theory of dialogism
particularly apt for thinking about what he calls “subaltern subjectivity”
(xi), of those who are oppressed on the basis of race, gender, or class.
Building on this critical theoretical work, I argue that reading minority
poetry dialogistically illuminates some of the problems of the expressive
subject, in particular, assumptions that surface about the politics of identity
in poetry.
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