67
extraordinarily creative in reorganizing, redirecting and applying memic
resources over a vast range of thematic domains, addressing a vast range of
audiences while all the same retaining clear and recognizable intertextual links
to the original memic sources. This fundamental intertextuality allows for
combined memes, in which features of different established memes are blended
in a “mashup” meme. Figure 8 shows such a mashup meme:
Figure 8: Keep calm and remove the arrow from your knee.
We see the familiar template of the “Keep calm” meme, to which a recognizable
reference to another meme is added. The origin of this other meme, “then I took
an arrow in the knee”, is in itself worthy of reflection, for it shows the essentially
arbitrary nature of memic success. The phrase was originally uttered by
characters from a video game “Skyrim” (Figure 9). The phrase is quite often
repeated throughout the game, but this does not in itself offer an explanation for
the viral spread of the expression way beyond the community of Skyrim gamers.
Figure 9: Skyrim scene “Then I took an arrow in the knee”
68
The phrase became wildly productive and can now be tagged to an almost
infinite range of different expressions, each time retaining a tinge of its original
apologetic character, and appearing in mashups, as we saw in Figure 8.
What we see in each of these examples is how memes operate via a combination
of intertextual recognizability and individual creativity – individual users adding
an “accent” to existing viral memes, in attempts to go viral with their own
adapted version. The work of resemiotization involved in such processes can be
complex and demanding. Mashup memes, for instance, involves elaborate
knowledge of existing memes, an understanding of the affordances and
limitations for altering the memes, and graphic, semiotic and technological skills
to post them online. The different forms of resemiotization represent different
genres of communicative action, ranging from maximally transparent refocusing
of existing memes to the creation of very different and new memes, less densely
connected to existing ones.
Two points need to be made now. First, we do not see such resemiotizations,
even drastic and radical ones, as being fundamentally different from the “likes”
and “shares” we discussed in the previous section. We have seen that “likes” and
“shares” are already different genres characterized by very different activity
patterns, orientations to addressees and audiences, and degrees of intervention
in the original signs. The procedures we have reviewed here differ in degree but
not in substance: they are, like “retweets”, “likes” and “shares”, re-
entextualizations of existing signs, i.e. meaningful communicative operations
that demand different levels of agency and creativity of the user. Second, and
related to this, the nature of the original sign itself – its conventionally
understood “meaning” – appears to be less relevant than the capacity to deploy it
in largely phatic, relational forms of interaction, again ranging from what
Malinowski described as “communion” – ritually expressing membership of a
particular community – to “communication” within the communities we
described as held together by “ambient affiliation”. “Meaning” in its traditional
sense needs to give way here to a more general notion of “function”. Memes, just
like Mark Zuckerberg’s status updates, do not need to be read in order to be seen
and understood as denotationally and informationally meaningful; their use and
re-use appear to be governed by the “phatic” and “emblematic” functions often
seen as of secondary nature in discourse-analytic literature.
Conviviality on demand
But what explains the immense density of such phatic forms of practice on social
media? How do we make sense of the astonishing speed and scope with which
such phatic forms of communion and communication circulate, creating – like in
the case of Gangnam Style – perhaps the largest-scale collective communicative
phenomena in human history? The explanations, we hope to have shown, do not
necessarily have to be located in the features of the signs themselves, nor in the
specific practices they prompt – both are unspectacular. So perhaps the
explanations must be sought in the social world in which these phatic practices
make sense.
69
In a seminal paper, Alice Marwick and danah boyd (2010: 120) distinguish
between email and Twitter. They have this to say on the topic:
“(…) the difference between Twitter and email is that the latter is
primarily a directed technology with people pushing content to persons
listed in the “To:” field, while tweets are made available for interested
individuals to pull on demand. The typical email has an articulated
audience, while the typical tweet does not.”
The statement demands nuancing, for we have seen that even minimal forms of
activity such as “sharing” involve degrees of audience design – the seemingly
vacuous identity statements we described above, lodged in social media
practices, are always directed at some audience, of which users have some idea,
right or wrong (cf. Androutsopoulos 2013). Imaginary audiences are powerful
actors affecting discursive behaviour, as Goffman and others have shown so
often (e.g. Goffman 1963), and Marwick and boyd’s early statement that “Twitter
flattens multiple audiences into one” – a phenomenon they qualify as “context
collapse” – is surely in need of qualification (Marwick & boyd 2010: 122). The
intricate social-semiotic work we have described here certainly indicates users
having diverse understandings of audiences on social media. Different social
media platforms offer opportunities for different types of semiotic and identity
work, and users often hold very precise and detailed views of what specific
platforms offer them in the way of audience access, identity and communication
opportunities and effects (cf. Gershon 2010).
At the same time, Marwick and boyd are correct in directing our attention
towards the kinds of communities in which people move on social media. In spite
of precise ideas of specific target audiences and addressees, it is certainly true
that there is no way in which absolute certainty about the identities (and
numbers) of addressees can be ascertained on most social media platforms –
something which Edward Snowden also made painfully clear. In addition, it is
true that lump categories such as Facebook “friends” gather a range of – usually
never explicitly defined – subcategories ranging from “real-life friends” and close
relatives to what we may best call, following Goffman again, “acquaintances”.
Goffman (1963), as we know, described acquaintances as that broad category of
people within the network of US middle class citizens with whom relations of
sociality and civility need to be maintained. Avoidance of overt neglect and
rejection are narrowly connected to avoidance of intimacy and “transgressive”
personal interaction: what needs to be maintained with such people is a
relationship of conviviality – a level of social intercourse characterized by largely
“phatic” and “polite” engagement in interaction. Acquaintances are not there to
be “loved”, they are there to be “liked”. Facebook is made exactly for these kinds
of social relationships (van Dijck 2013), which is perhaps also why a discourse
analysis of Facebook interaction reveals the overwhelming dominance of the
Gricean Maxims, that old ethnotheory of “polite” US bourgeois interaction (Varis
forthcoming).
But let us delve slightly deeper into this. The communities present as audiences
on social media may be at once over-imagined and under-determined: while
users can have relatively precise ideas of who it is they are addressing, a level of
70
indeterminacy is inevitable in reality. This means, in analysis, that we cannot
treat such communities in the traditional sense of “speech community” as a
group of people tied together by clear and generally shareable rules of the
indexical value and function of signs (Agha 2007). Indexical orders need to be
built, as a consequence, since they cannot readily be presupposed. Virality, as a
sociolinguistic phenomenon, might be seen as moments at which such indexical
orders – perceived shareability of meaningful signs – are taking shape. The two
billion views of Gangnam Style suggest that large numbers of people in various
places on earth recognized something in the video; what it is exactly they
experienced as recognizable is hard to determine, and research on this topic –
how virality might inform us on emergent forms of social and cultural
normativity in new and unclear large globalized human collectives – is long
overdue.
Some suggestions in this direction can be offered, though. In earlier work, we
tried to describe “light” forms of community formation in the online-offline
contemporary world as “focused but diverse” (Blommaert & Varis 2013). Brief
moments of focusing on perceived recognizable and shareable features of social
activity generate temporary groups – think of the thousands who “liked”
Zuckerberg’s status update – while such groups do not require the kinds of
strong and lasting bonds grounded in shared bodies of knowledge we associate
with more traditionally conceived “communities” or “societies”. In fact, they are
groups selected on demand, so to speak, by individual users in the ways we
discussed earlier. People can focus and re-focus perpetually, and do so (which
explains the speed of virality) without being tied into a community of fixed
circumscription, given the absence of the deep and strong bonds that tie them
together, and the absence of temporal and spatial copresence that characterizes
online groups.
A joint “phatic” focus on recognizable form or shape offers possibilities for such
processes of groupness, while the actual functional appropriation and
deployment of signs – what they actually mean for actual users – is hugely
diverse; the infinite productivity of memes – the perpetual construction of
memic “accents” – illustrates this. Here we begin to see something fundamental
about communities in an online age: the joint focusing, even if “phatic”, is in itself
not trivial, it creates a structural level of conviviality, i.e. a sharing at one level of
meaningful interaction by means of a joint feature, which in superficial but real
ways translates a number of individuals into a focused collective. Note, and we
repeat, that what this collective shares is the sheer act of phatic communion (the
“sharing” itself, so to speak), while the precise meaning of this practice for each
individual member of the collective is impossible to determine. But since
Malinowski and Goffman, we have learned not to underestimate the importance
of unimportant social activities. Memes force us to think about levels of social
structuring that we very often overlook because we consider them meaningless.
This neglect of conviviality has effects. In the superdiversity that characterizes
online-offline social worlds, we easily tend to focus on differences and downplay
the level of social structuring that actually prevents these differences from
turning into conflicts. Recognizing such hitherto neglected levels of social
structuring might also serve as a corrective to rapid qualifications of the present
71
era as being “postsocial” – a point on which we disagree with Vincent Miller.
There is a great deal of sociality going on on social media, but this sociality might
require a new kind of sociological imagination. We will look in vain for
communities and societies that resemble the ones proposed by Durkheim and
Parsons. But that does not mean that such units are not present, and even less
that they are not in need of description.
References
Agha, Asif 2007. Language and social relations. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Androutsopoulos, Jannis 2013. Networked multilingualism: Some language
practices on Facebook and their implications. International Journal of
Bilingualism, 1-21.
Bauman, Richard & Charles Briggs 1990. Poetics and performance as critical
perspectives on language and social life. Annual Review of Anthropology 19, 59-
88.
Blommaert, Jan & Piia Varis 2013. Life projects. Tilburg Papers in Culture Studies,
Paper 58.
https://www.tilburguniversity.edu/upload/c37dcccf-242d-4fca-b79f-
d3d366b0a505_TPCS_58_Blommaert-Varis.pdf
Briggs, Charles 1997. Introduction: From the ideal, the ordinary, and the orderly
to conflict and violence in pragmatic research. Pragmatics 7 (4) (special issue on
Conflict and Violence in Pragmatic Research, ed. Charles Briggs), 451-459.
Dawkins, Richard 1976. The Selfish Gene. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
van Dijck, José 2013. The culture of connectivity. A critical history of social media.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Gershon, Ilana 2010. Breakup 2.0. Disconnecting over new media. Ithaca: Cornell
University Press.
Goffman, Erving 1963. Behavior in Public Places. New York: The Free Press.
Goffman, Erving 1967. Interaction Ritual: Essays on face-to-face behavior. New
York: Doubleday Anchor.
Hymes, Dell 1972 (1986). Models of the interaction of language and social life. In
John Gumperz & Dell Hymes (eds.) Directions in Sociolinguistics: The ethnography
of communication. London: Blackwell, 35-71.
Jakobson, Roman 1960. Linguistics and poetics. In Thomas Sebeok (ed.) Style in
Language. Cambridge: MIT Press, 350-377.
Lange, Patricia G. 2009. Videos of affinity on YouTube. In Snickars, Pelle &
Patrick Vonderau (eds.) The YouTube reader. Stockholm: National Library of
Sweden, 70-88.
72
Leppänen, Sirpa, Samu Kytölä, Henna Jousmäki, Saija Peuronen & Elina Westinen
2014. Entextualization and resemiotization as resources for identification in
social media. In Seargeant, Philip & Caroline Tagg (eds.) The language of social
media: Identity and community on the internet. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan,
112-136.
Malinowski, Bronislaw 1923 (1936). The problem of meaning in primitive
languages. In C.K. Ogden & I.A. Richards (eds.) The Meaning of Meaning. London:
Kegan Paul, 296-336.
Marwick, Alice E. & danah boyd 2010. I tweet honestly, I tweet passionately:
Twitter users, context collapse, and the imagined audience. New Media & Society
13 (1), 114-133.
Miller, Vincent 2008. New media, networking and phatic culture. Convergence 14:
387-400.
Schegloff, Emanuel 1972 (1986). Sequencing in conversational openings. In John
Gumperz & Dell Hymes (eds.) Directions in Sociolinguistics: The ethnography of
communication. London: Blackwell, 346-380.
Schegloff, Emanuel 1988. Goffman and the analysis of conversation. In Paul Drew
& Anthony Wootton (eds.) Erving Goffman: Exploring the interaction order.
Oxford: Polity Press, 89-135.
Schegloff, Emanuel & Harvey Sacks 1973. Opening up closings. Semiotica 8, 289-
327.
Scollon, Ron & Suzie Wong Scollon 2004. Nexus analysis: Discourse and the
emerging Internet. London: Routledge.
Senft, Gunter 1995. Phatic communion. In Jef Verschueren, Jan-Ola Ostman &
Jan Blommaert (eds.) Handbook of Pragmatics 1995. Amsterdam: John
Benjamins, 1-10.
Shifman, Limor 2011. An anatomy of a YouTube meme. New Media & Society 14
(2), 187-203.
Silverstein, Michael & Greg Urban 1996. Natural histories of discourse. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Varis, Piia forthcoming. Facebook and the Gricean maxims. Tilburg Paper in
Culture Studies (2014).
Zappavigna, Michele 2011. Ambient affiliation: A linguistic perspective on
Twitter. New Media & Society 13 (5), 788-806.
Document Outline - TPCS_139.pdf
- Enoughness essays
Dostları ilə paylaş: |