End Times Colloquium
23-25 July 2014
Wits Club, West Campus, University of the Witwatersrand
Acknowledgments
The End Times Colloquium is linked to the ‘Fictions of Threat’ collaboration between Uppsala University and the University of the Witwatersrand. The organizers of this collaboration, funded by STINT, have contributed extensively to the organizing and funding of this gathering.
The bulk of the colloquium funding is courtesy of a SPARC grant from the Faculty of Humanities, University of the Witwatersrand. This grant was very kindly supplemented by the University and Faculty Research Committees.
Finally, the School of Literature, Language and Media contributed substantially to the event, both in terms of funding and effort. In this regard, we would like to thank the administrators responsible, Antonette Gouws and Delia Rossouw, and the Head of School, Dr. Libby Meintjes.
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Index of Participants
Presentations & AbstractsBarendse, Joan-Mari – Afrikaans, Stellenbosch University / 3, 13
Boyden, Michael – American Literature, Uppsala University / 4, 17
Byron, Mark – English, University of Sydney / 5, 15
Curtis, Claire P. – Political Science, College of Charleston / 2, 8
de Kock, Leon – English, Stellenbosch University / 2, 14
de Villiers, Dawid W. – English, Stellenbosch University / 5, 10
Galetti, Dino – English/Philosophy, University of Johannesburg / 4, 11
Greenberg, Louis – Author / 4, 25
Hayes, Douglas – English, University of Sussex / 3, 11
Heffernan, Teresa – English, St. Mary’s University (Canada) / 4, 21
Jackson, Jeanne-Marie – Comparative Literature, Johns Hopkins
Kaganof, Aryan – artist/filmmaker / 5, 12
Marais, Mike – English, Rhodes University / 2, 18
Masterson, John – English, University of Sussex
McInnes, Jacki – artist / 3, 13
Metz, Thaddeus – Humanities/Philosophy, University of Johannesburg / 2, 22
Moonsamy, Nedine – English, Rhodes University / 3, 19
Northover, Richard Alan – Afrikaans and Theory of Literature, UNISA / 2, 6
O’Leary, Stephen – Journalism and Communication, University of Southern California / 2, 23
Palmer, Ryan – American Literature, Uppsala University / 2, 20
Paoli, Natalie – English, University of the Witwatersrand / 4, 19
Pitt, Daniela – English, University of the Witwatersrand / 3, 20
Rose-Innes, Henrietta – Author / 4, 25
Schonstein, Patricia – Author / 4, 25
Sey, James – Fine Art, Design and Architecture, University of Johannesburg / 4, 12
Thiem, Annika – Philosophy, Villanova / 5, 24
Thorpe, Kathleen – German, University of the Witwatersrand / 4, 14
Thurman, Chris – English, University of the Witwatersrand / 3, 8
Titlestad, Michael – English, University of the Witwatersrand / 2,5
van Zyl, Sue – Humanities, University of the Witwatersrand / 4, 21
Venter, Carina – Musicology, Oxford University / 5, 7
Visagie, Andries – Afrikaans, University of Pretoria / 3, 6
Watson, David – American Literature, Uppsala University / 3, 9
West-Pavlov, Russ – English, University of Tübingen/University of Pretoria / 3, 20
Williams, Merle – English, University of the Witwatersrand / 4, 16
End Times Colloquium Programme
23-25 July 2014
Wednesday, 23 July
Welcome 8:30-9:00
Michael Titlestad, English, University of the Witwatersrand
Panel 1 - 9:00-11:00
- Why do we care about humanity?: reasons for abhorring the prospect of catastrophe
Thaddeus Metz, Humanities/Philosophy, University of Johannesburg
- The time of hospitality
Mike Marais, English, Rhodes University
- Postapocalyptic fiction as a space for civic love
Claire P. Curtis, Political Science, College of Charleston
Tea 11:00-11:30
Panel 2 - 11:30-13:30
- Strange fruit: environmental justice in Tropic of Orange.
Ryan Palmer, American Literature, Uppsala University
- Ecological catastrophe in Margaret Atwood’s MaddAddam trilogy
Richard Alan Northover, Afrikaans and Theory of Literature, UNISA
- Competing Eschatologies in the Climate Change Debate: Global Warming, Nuclear Destruction, and the Spectacle of Disaster
Stephen D. O’Leary, Journalism and Communication, University of Southern California
Lunch 13:30-14:30
Panel 3 14:30-17:00
- From democratic ‘miracle’ to ‘endgame’: the revolution that never was
Leon de Kock, English, University of Stellenbosch
- A South African zombie apocalypse: Lily Herne’s Mall Rats series
Joan-Mari Barendse, Afrikaans, Stellenbosch University
- Genocidal fantasy or global catastrophe? “Ondergang van die Tweede Wêreld” (“End of the Second World”) by Eugène N. Marais (1933)
Andries Visagie, Afrikaans, Univerity of Pretoria
- Apocalypse whenever: catastrophe, privilege and indifference
Chris Thurman, English, University of the Witwatersrand
Thursday, 24 July
Panel 4: 8:30-10:30
- ‘Gray and waiting’: terror’s face in Don DeLillo and Gerhard Richter
Douglas Hayes, English, University of Sussex
- Vanishing points; or, the timescapes of the contemporary American novel
David Watson, American Literature, Uppsala University
- ‘It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there’: listening for the End Times in the contemporary American novel
John Masterson, English, Sussex University
Tea 10:30-11:00
Panel 5 - 11:00-13:00
- Apocalypse now, never … or forever: Venter and Medalie on the everyday biopolitics of post-apartheid South Africa
Russ West-Pavlov, English, University of Tübingen/University of Pretoria
- The Longer Future
Nedine Moonsamy, English, University of the Witwatersrand
- The need for zero: the utopian impulse in Eben Venter’s Trencherman
Daniela Pitt, English, University of the Witwatersrand
Lunch 13:00-14:00
Panel 6 - 14:00-16:00
- An accidental ethics: millenarianism and apocalypse theory
James Sey, Fine Art, Design and Architecture, University of Johannesburg
- The science of artificial intelligence, Thanatos, and the “the desert of the real”
Teresa Heffernan, English, St. Mary’s University (Canada)
- Psychoanalysis, catastrophe and the question of genocide
Sue van Zyl, Humanities, University of the Witwatersrand
Tea 16:00-16:30
Authors’ panel 16:30-18:30
Louis Greenberg, Patricia Schonstein and Henrietta Rose-Innes
Friday, 25 July
Panel 7 – 8:30-10:30
- Apocalypse now? millenarianism in the novel Openball by Josef Haslinger
Kathleen Thorpe, German, University of the Witwatersrand
- Revolution and catastrophism in Hawthorne’s “My Kinsman, Major Molineux”
Michael Boyden, American Literature, Uppsala University
- Moscow and the apocalypse: Dmitri Glukhovsky’s Metro 2033
Natalie Paoli, English, University of the Witwatersrand
Tea 10:30-11:00
Panel 8 – 11:00-13:00
- ‘A Shape … crouching within the shadow of a tomb’: Shelley’s qualified apocalypse in The Triumph of Life
Merle Williams, English, University of the Witwatersrand
- On a philosophical logic of apocalypse
Dino Galetti, English/Philosophy, University of Johannesburg
- Catastrophic Turns: Culture’s Last Men and Anthropophagi
Dawid W de Villiers, English, Stellenbosch University
Lunch 13:00-14:00
Panel 9 14:00-16:30
- Between apocalypse and extinction: eschatology in Ezra Pound’s poetry
Mark Byron, English, University of Sydney
- Into Africa: the novel as modern martyr
Jeanne-Marie Jackson, Comparative Literature, Johns Hopkins
- Singing catastrophe: The Blind Filmmaker and his pictures
Carina Venter, Musicology, Oxford University
- Apocalyptic Imaginaries, Utopian Desires: Bloch, Benjamin, and the Politics of Time
Annika Thiem, Philosophy, Villanova
Tea 16:30-17:00
Artists’ panel (presentation and discussion) 17:00-18:30
A retrospective: Hazardous Objects by Jacki McInnes
Screening: Night is Coming: a Threnody for the Victims of Marikanaby Aryan Kaganof
Conclusion of colloquium (Michael Titlestad) – followed by drinks and a light supper 18:30-19:00
Abstracts
Ecological catastrophe in Margaret Atwood’s MaddAddam trilogy
Richard Alan Northover, Afrikaans and Theory of Literature, UNISA
Lawrence Buell (1995) writes that “Apocalypse is the single most powerful master metaphor that the contemporary environmental imagination has at its disposal”. Concerning the environmental crisis, Cheryl Glotfelty (1996) writes that “[e]ither we change our ways or we face global catastrophe, destroying much beauty and exterminating countless fellow species in our headlong race to apocalypse”. Thus ecologists and eco-critics make use of apocalyptic and catastrophic language to warn humans of an impending ecological disaster, a warning which Margaret Atwood gives imaginative form in her MaddAddam trilogy. Yet the linear Biblical myths fit uncomfortably with the cyclical, biological and systems conceptual scheme of ecology. As with ecological discourse, the language in Atwood’s MaddAddam trilogy is a perturbing mixture of scientific and religious (catastrophic) discourse, especially evident in the words, practices and rituals of the ecological-religious sect, the God’s Gardeners, who attempt to recreate Eden in their rooftop organic gardens. Whereas critics have engaged with the Garden of Eden, Flood and End of Times myths in their analyses of the MaddAddam trilogy, this paper will argue that the threatened ecological catastrophe is as much a result of the Fall from Eden (into technology) as it is the advent of civilization depicted in the myth of Cain and Abel. As opposed to critics who argue that the trilogy shows how humans need to be civilized, this paper will argue, following Jared Diamond and Erich Fromm, that the advent of civilization constituted a second Fall, the catastrophic consequences of which the scientist Crake tries to prevent by destroying humanity and engineering a peaceful species of vegetarian hominids, called the Crakers, to replace them. Since the technology of literacy accompanied civilization, and was partly responsible for the domination of nature and women, this paper will problematize Toby’s teaching the Crakers to read and write.
Genocidal fantasy or global catastrophe? “Ondergang van die Tweede Wêreld” (“End of the Second World”) by Eugène N. Marais (1933)
Andries Visagie, Afrikaans, Univerity of Pretoria
In a recent article Stephen Gray (2013) dismisses “Ondergang van die Tweede Wêreld” (“End of the Second World”), a story by Eugène N. Marais (1871–1936) originally published in 1933, as a prediction of “a raging racial holocaust of hatred caused by terrifying societal breakdown” that is consequent more on Marais’s “addiction to grains of illegal substance than to truth”. Yet, the story is remarkable in its deployment of a wide-raging diversity including men and women, rural and urban populations, Afrikaners, Yiddish-speaking Jews, South African black people, a migrant from Portuguese East Africa and European scientists. Events are focused mainly on Pretoria but South Africa is also situated within the context of global environmental catastrophe. In this paper I propose that “End of the Second World” is more likely a critical reflection by Marais on the societal stratifications that existed in South Africa in the 1930’s. Furthermore, Marais’s biographer Leon Rousseau may be correct to suspect that Marais was inspired by Omega: The Last Days of the World(La fin du monde, 1893) by French science fiction writer Camille Flammarion who speculated in his well-known novel about the end of the world after a collision with a comet. Fictional catastrophe (the drying up of all water sources on earth as a result of unprecedented seismic activity) provides Marais with an opportunity to interrogate the hierarchies that marked South African society during the Great Depression. Marais presents the text as an edited version of partly degraded documents discovered in the Bushveld by a black man, Buffel, and subsequently restored in Hamburg by a white South African chemist, Dr S. de Kock. This framing device begs a second reflection on the fate of the world and its human survivors. Also, the “spectroperiscopic” vision mentioned by the narrator Willem deserves attention as a likely reading strategy proposed by Marais for his story.
Singing catastrophe: The Blind Filmmaker and his pictures
Carina Venter, Musicology, Oxford University
I watch and listen to the films of guy debord
with my eyes tightly shut and my ears fine tuned
to the precision of his scalpel
slicing through the bullshit
of what we have become
Aryan Kaganof
The question posed to the creative artist and intellectual in a time of staggering tragedy is a perverse one: how to write, play, and dance the catastrophic. Catastrophe, we know, is a place-holder in language for a loss of which the magnitude defies description; a word, then, from which apprehension has fled. As a musicologist, I am intrigued by the less obvious associations of this word with music and theatre. Cata- is charged with kinetic force: down, away, against, towards, according to and thorough. It is a prefix that registers contradiction, opposition and conclusion. “Strophe” reaches back to the chorus in Greek theatre, denoting a singing quality as well as the to and fro turns of a round dance. The catastrophic thus meshes the world of the stage with a violent thrust against, away from or towards the fantastic; the playful tricks of round songs and dances with their own negativity or negation experienced as the tragic present.
It is this meaning of catastrophe as a violent splitting or distorting of what is and is not theatre that is clashed together in the film Night is Coming: a Threnody for the Victims of Marikana by Aryan Kaganof. The film is a series of sonic portraits of the South African landscape: a conference held in Stellenbosch entitled “Hearing Landscape Critically”, the bare human fact of poverty and the Marikana massacre. Kaganof’s work regards catastrophe as spectacular theatre drained of fiction, an intellectual, psychic and physical state which emerges also as the painful truth of post-empire, post-apartheid and post-Marikana South Africa.
Apocalypse whenever: catastrophe, privilege and indifference
Chris Thurman, English, University of the Witwatersrand
Henrietta Rose-Innes’ short story “Poison” (from Homing, 2010) is set in the aftermath of a chemical explosion of cataclysmic proportions in contemporary Cape Town. The story’s protagonist and narrator, Lynn, is among the last to flee the city; she ends up alone at an abandoned highway petrol station. She sips Coke and eats crisps and waits passively – for a rescue team, for the will to try and escape, or for the (presumably) inevitable end. In this paper I will offer a reading of “Poison” that examines Lynn’s apparent indifference to her fate and considers what it may represent. The story provides us with some clues as to her lack of motivation, although she remains enigmatic. I wish to read her character metonymically and to ask: does she stand for a particular kind of response to impending or actual catastrophe? Is it a common response, arguably one that is analogous to (for instance) global responses to climate change and environmental degradation? Is it inflected by the privilege of whiteness? What might the race and class dynamics of an imagined post-apocalyptic community tell us about present social faultlines? In answering these questions I will draw on other examples of South African “end times” fiction.
Postapocalyptic fiction as a space for civic love
Claire P. Curtis, Political Science, College of Charleston
In her recent work on love as a political emotion, Martha Nussbaum argues that we need to pay greater attention to works of art that can awaken love as a civic emotion. A civic love "carries people beyond suspicion and division to pursue common projects with heartfelt enthusiasm" (375). This paper analyzes a set of novels that find in the moments of starting over after apocalyptic crisis examples of better ways of living together that acknowledge the varieties of human frailty.
The prevalent emotion of postapocalyptic fiction would seem to be fear. Fear within the text and the inspired fear in the reader. In such accounts the primary motivation to create communal living is security. But fear need not, and importantly, is not the only emotion that motivates people to build community. Precisely because we expect fear from postapocalyptic fiction novels built on something other than fear matter.
Novels such as Octavia Butler's Parable series, Marge Piercy's He, She and It and Kim Stanley Robinson's 2312 all offer rich examples of communities built out of ruin that acknowledge, in Nussbaum's framework, the central place of love as a political emotion necessary for realizing justice. These novels act as examples of art that could inspire civic love in the reader and these novels also show characters experiencing and enacting their own moments of such civic love. Thus postapocalyptic fiction offers an ideal that works in two ways: to exemplify civic love in communities and to awaken the imagination of the reader to experience her own civic love.
Vanishing points; or, the timescapes of the contemporary American novel
David Watson, American Literature, Uppsala University
In the early years of the 21st century, the resilience and sustainability of social and economic institutions are increasingly in doubt. In the hands of world-system theorists, the enlarged time scale of the longuedurée has functioned as a mechanism whereby to lay bare the fragility of contemporary economic and geopolitical arrangements. Immense timescapes like the anthropocene have drawn attention to the asymmetrical, corrosive relation between human history and longer environmental or geological timeframes. Haunted by thoughts of human extinction, object-oriented ontology or speculative realism has made pre- and posthuman timescapes central to contemporary philosophy. These dramatically expanded timescapes have foreground the evanescence of institutions, implicated human life in timeframes beyond its control or cognition, and have prepared the way for catastrophic imaginings.
In this paper, I track the emergence of similarly immense timescapes in such contemporary American novels as Don DeLillo’s Point Omega, Lydia Millet’s Magnificence, Nathaniel Rich’s Odds Against Tomorrow, Alex Shakar’s Luminarium, and Amy Waldman’s The Submission. Within these novels, enlarged timescapes trigger melancholic, depressive affects as well as forecasts of catastrophes or extinction. But these timescapes provide a counterpoint to what these novels depict as the self-reflexive speculations of military and financial intuitions, speculations in which future contingencies are figured proleptically as actionable threats requiring preemptive action, or as risk-laden opportunities to be capitalized on. The temporal scale enlargements effected in these novels introduce the possibility of unmanageable futures that cannot be defended and insured against, or profited from, and that resist the self-reflexive workings of preemptive and speculative practices. The immense timescapes of these novels do more than draw our attention to the contingency and fragility of contemporary forms of life. By working with enlarged timeframes, these novels interrogate and dissent from military and financial assumptions concerning the management of contingencies and risks, and in doing so transform catastrophic forecasts into political acts.
Catastrophic turns: culture’s last men and anthropophagi
Dawid W de Villiers, English, Stellenbosch University
In Walter Benjamin’s account of “the angel of history,” as Jacques Khalip has pointed out, the angel “‘sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage’ in contrast to the ‘chain of events’ we register” (615, emphasis added). Implicit here is the question of our narrativisation of the chaos of a constant “overturning,” a process which builds such a turn into the narrative chain itself, and uses it to appease our need for ends or dénouements. Starting with a cluster of poems centred around Byron’s “Darkness” (1816) – and keeping in mind the background of a late eighteenth-century rivalry between catastrophist and gradualist geologies, contemporary with an emerging Naturphilosophie still operative in Louis Agassiz’s claim (in 1842) that the “history of the Earth […] tells us that the object and term of creation is man” (qtd. in Palmer 53) – I would like to reflect upon some of the ways in which catastrophe has functioned culturally to mediate the displacement of the human being from central “plot” of natural history. The question, then, is how the imagined ends – in the sense of terminations – of humankind have served to help us think about its potential ends – in its other sense of aims or significances. By way of pursuing this question I propose to take a closer look at several examples of “the last man,” a figure who has returned in various guises and to various ends in the work not only of Byron and contemporaries like Thomas Hood and Mary Shelley, but also in the work of Friedrich Nietzsche, Olaf Stapledon, Georges Bataille, Maurice Blanchot, Richard Routley and Francis Fukuyama, among others, not to mention a host of films and speculative fictions. A further aspect of this study involves reflecting upon the particular implications and valences of cannibalism as it emerges in several of the catastrophic scenarios presented in the texts under consideration.