[Xmca-l] Re: Best possible theoretical approach on learning from life experiences

[Ulvi İçil]

Thank you  Mike and David.

5 Kas 2017 01:52 tarihinde "David Kellogg" <dkellogg60@gmail.com> yazdı:

> I take it that we are using "perezhivanie" to mean something like the
> reconstruction and reliving of an experience through word meanings. So what
> we are proposing is not simply a kind of account of how Hikmet's
> experiences (e.g. his birth in a noble Ottoman family, his adherence to
> communism, his exile in the Soviet Union, etc.) added up to make him an
> artist but more the reverse, an analysis of the texts that he wrote which
> would reveal them to be "overlivings" of a historically specific life.
>
> That's why Martin recommends Sartre. Sartre starts with Flaubert's texts
> (not just Bovary, but also A Sentimental Education and even the viciously
> racist and reactionary Salammbo). He uses these texts to locate Flaubert on
> a line of development that goes from Balzac to Zola. But it's a linguistic
> line of development, one that shows Balzac as fully engaged as an business
> entrepreneur rather than simply an artist and, paradoxically, Zola as a
> dispassionate and unengaged observer, who only takes up the case of Dreyfus
> as a hobby in his retirement, when his literature has dried up.
>
> This would be a big project but it would give you a lot of data. Ulvi would
> have to show how Hikmet's whole oeuvre related to the whole of Turkish
> literature: Turkish verbal artists before his time (the Ottoman poets) and
> also how he relates to the realist, biographical literature that came out
> after him (e.g. "Mehmet my hawk" and the popular literature, but also the
> more intellectualistic Turkish writing like "My name is red".
>
> You might start with something smaller. For example, I have always
> wondered:
>
> a) How does "Pourquoi Benerdji c'est suicide?" (I don't know the title in
> Turkish) relate to Hikmet's own experiences of internecine struggles in the
> Turkish Communist Party?
>
> b) How does his innovations in poetic meter (not to mention rhyme!) relate,
> on the one hand to his rejection of the court poetry of his time and on the
> other to his own interest in the dialogue around him?
>
> It might seem like a) is easier than b), because, as Vygotsky points out,
> "perezhivanie" always has two poles: there is the pole of experience and
> there is the pole of the "I" experiencing it. Because the latter is
> protected by "privileged access", at least insofar as bodily sensations are
> concerned, the former seems more sharable and hence more recoverable. I
> think that misses Sartre's point, which is not about how the content of the
> artist's life is recoverable from the content of the artwork but rather how
> the form of the artwork is recoverable from its content and vice versa.
>
> Maybe most of us tend to a processing of the slings and arrows of
> outrageous fortune that is relatively unmediated by form, even, and even
> especially, in our own lives. Apparently Flaubert never actually said
> "Bovary c'est moi!" (Anyway, I had always assumed he was referring to
> Charles, and not to Emma.) But the first English translation of Madame
> Bovary was  done by a young woman who also committed suicide by poisoning
> herself after a long and disappointing extra-marital affair. Her name was
> Eleanor, and she too was a working class militant and a lifelong communist.
> She was also the youngest daughter of Karl Marx.
>
> David Kellogg
>
>
>
>
>
> On Sun, Nov 5, 2017 at 4:08 AM, Ulvi İçil <ulvi.icil@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > Thank you Martin.
> >
> > Does anyone know any study on a person's life, learning, formation in the
> > light of the concept of perezhivanie in the centre?
> >
> > 4 Kas 2017 22:01 tarihinde "Martin John Packer" <mpacker@uniandes.edu.co
> >
> > yazdı:
> >
> > > I would suggest Sartre’s (existential Marxist) analysis of Flaubert…
> > >
> > > <https://www.amazon.com/001-Family-Gustave-Flaubert-1821-
> > > 1857/dp/0226735095/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=
> > > 1509821640&sr=1-1&keywords=sartre+Flaubert+book+1&dpID=
> > > 41CeMqdxQnL&preST=_SY291_BO1,204,203,200_QL40_&dpSrc=srch>
> > >
> > > <http://www.nybooks.com/articles/1982/02/04/sartres-last-case/>
> > >
> > > <https://www.lrb.co.uk/v04/n10/julian-barnes/double-bind>
> > >
> > > Martin
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > On Nov 4, 2017, at 6:41 AM, Ulvi İçil <ulvi.icil@gmail.com<mailto:ul
> > > vi.icil@gmail.com>> wrote:
> > >
> > > Dear all,
> > >
> > > For a study on Turkish poet, also a painter and playwright, Nazim
> Hikmet,
> > > whom learning seems to be heavily determined from life experiences at
> > each
> > > stage of his life,
> > > I am looking for a best theoretical approach in general on learning
> from
> > > life experiences, then more specifically for such great poets, painters
> > and
> > > play writers.
> > > Just to give a closer idea, please look at the section below from his
> > > novel, Life's good, brother.
> > >
> > > I appreciate highly any idea, proposal on such a theoretical approach.
> > >
> > > Thank you.
> > >
> > > Ulvi
> > >
> > > I sat down at the table in the Hôtel de France in Batum. A table with
> > > carved legs—not just the legs but the whole gilded oval table was
> covered
> > > with intricate carvings. Rococo . . . In the seaside house in Üsküdar,
> a
> > > rococo
> > > table sits in the guestroom. Ro-co-co . . . The journey I made from the
> > > Black
> > > Sea coast to Ankara, then from there to Bolu, the thirty-five-day,
> > > thirty-fiveyear
> > > journey on foot to the town where I taught school—in short, to make a
> > > long story short, the encounter of a pasha’s descendant—more
> precisely, a
> > > grandson—with Anatolia now rests on the rococo table in the Hôtel de
> > > France in Batum, spread out over the table like a tattered, dirty,
> > > blood-stained
> > > block-print cloth. I look, and I want to cry. I look, and my blood
> rushes
> > > to my
> > > head in rage. I look, and I’m ashamed again. Of the house by the sea in
> > > Üsküdar. Decide, son, I say to myself, decide. The decision was made:
> > death
> > > before turning back. Wait, don’t rush, son. Let’s put the questions on
> > this
> > > table, right next to Anatolia here. What can you sacrifice for this
> > cause?
> > > What
> > > can you give? Everything. Everything I have. Your freedom? Yes! How
> > > many years can you rot in prison for this cause? All my life, if
> > necessary!
> > > Yes, but you like women, fine dining, nice clothes. You can’t wait to
> > > travel,
> > > to see Europe, Asia, America, Africa. If you just leave Anatolia here
> on
> > > this
> > > rococo table in Batum and go from Tbilisi to Kars and back to Ankara
> from
> > > there, in five or six years you’ll be a senator, a minister—women,
> wining
> > > and
> > > dining, art, the whole world. No! If necessary, I can spend my whole
> life
> > > in
> > > prison. Okay, but what about getting hanged, killed, or drowned like
> > > Mustafa
> > > Suphi and his friends if I become a Communist—didn’t you ask yourself
> > these
> > > questions in Batum? I did. I asked myself, Are you afraid of being
> > > killed? I’m not afraid, I said. Just like that, without thinking? No. I
> > > first knew
> > > I was afraid, then I knew I wasn’t. Okay, are you ready to be disabled,
> > > crippled, or made deaf for this cause? I asked. And TB, heart disease,
> > > blindness? Blindness? Blindness . . . Wait a minute—I hadn’t thought
> > about
> > > going blind for this cause. I got up. I shut my eyes tight and walked
> > > around
> > > the room. Feeling the furniture with my hands, I walked around the room
> > in
> > > the darkness of my closed eyes. Twice I stumbled, but I didn’t open my
> > > eyes.
> > > Then I stopped at the table. I opened my eyes. Yes, I can accept
> > blindness.
> > > Maybe I was a bit childish, a little comical. But this is the truth.
> Not
> > > books or
> > > word-of-mouth propaganda or my social condition brought me where I am.
> > > Anatolia brought me where I am. The Anatolia I had seen only on the
> > > surface, from the outside. My heart brought me where I am. That’s how
> it
> > is
> > > .
> > >
> > >
> >
>