A Brief Introduction of Semiotics, Linguistic Association, and Historicity

A good day for fishing!

From my book: The Theory of Iconic Realism, pp. 15-16:

The study of semiotics unravels the mystery behind symbolism associated with memory, language variations, and sign-signifier correlation as the human mind associates ideas with specific representations. Syntax deals with language as an expression of contextual, modal and residual elements of language, as well as a clear understanding of themes and rhemes. A thorough study of semantics observes ideational, interpersonal and textual components of language. Finally, pragmatics analyzes format of the communication base, interpreters of a language and function of that language in a community. Therefore, a comprehensive study of semiotics enables an audience to experience the intricacies of language in association with textual, musical, or artistic expression.  

Linguistic association begins with the historical perspective of a community revealed through a collective memory base, the societal and political history of a particular language. This includes the beliefs that accompany the historical development of a language. If there is any variation of a standard, sociolinguists consider this a ‘dialect’ of the language.  In other words, the varieties of the language associate with the historical and ethnic identities of those individuals within the speech community. 

Historicity employs the use of historical arguments in the form of validated facts, reinterpretations, inventions, or myth to support the authenticity and legitimate formation of the language variety’s autonomy as established through history. One's culture, including language, music, art, faith, and traditions all incorporate to form the historicity. 

Arthur Miller's 'The Crucible' and Iconic Realism

http://z.hubpages.com/u/234410_f260.jpg

From my book: 

In Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible, characterization takes place within the parameters of a seventeenth century New England village. Yet, the message that Miller is sending to his audience parallels the political ramifications of the anti-communist hearings in 1951 United States, when fear of communism heavily influenced the psychological landscape. He creates a series of events that illustrate iconic realism through his use of lighting, characterization and dialogue. As each member of the town accused of witchcraft is called to trial, the lighting and stage presence illuminates the audience to the author’s intention. Written in 1953, shortly after the anti-communist hearings, known as the House Committee on Un-American Activities,[1] each character could depict some facet of the House Committee’s representation, for actions by the House committee resembled those of the drama’s magistrates. 

 

The setting of the play is a seventeenth century New England village, during a time when actual witch hunts did take place. Miller admits to changing a few names and facts regarding the characters, “This play is not history in the sense in which the word is used by the academic historian… However... the reader will discover here the essential nature of one of the strangest...chapters in human history.”[2] Thus, Miller chooses a tale of human interaction to demonstrate his sincere concern for the cultural future and freedom of speech within the United States and humanity in general.

I wonder... Have some current politicians and media personnel read this play?  Somehow, I think not. 

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[1] Carr, Robert K. “The Un-American Committee.” The University of Chicago Law Review. 18.3 (Spring, 1951) 598-633.

[2] Miller, Arthur. The Crucible. (New York: Penguin Books, 1976) 2.

James Joyce's Ulysses: Breathing in Natural and New Laws

Often, individuals perceive the world in terms of various human laws and semantic representations established by the community. These laws or rules of thought have been the subject of many philosophers throughout history. One such philosopher was Thomas Aquinas, who described differences between natural law and new law, represented by Christ. 

Dr. Taylor Marshall, who devoted his doctoral dissertation to Thomas Aquinas’ philosophical approach to such laws, states: 

"Natural law is not the same as ‘laws of nature’ such as gravity. Natural law is an inward inclination toward the good and the avoidance of evil. It is a natural operating system. Thomas [Aquinas] explicitly teaches it is not chiefly a set of moral commandments. Rather it is an inclination humans have toward the good." (43)

Dr. Marshall continues with his discussion of Natural Law versus Thomas Aquinas’ interpretation of New Law in which he states: 

The New Law of the Gospel fulfills what is lacking in the natural law. It is required that every Christian seek to prayerfully persuade every man and woman on Earth to enter into the New Law of Christ.” (44) 

In his novel, Ulysses, James Joyce illustrates the manner in which human beings manage these laws, both Natural and New, as he weaves in and out of Leopold Bloom’s odyssey as if he were a spirit, acknowledging the human frailties and the responsibilities that many leave deposited along the wayside of their life’s journeys. He utilizes Bloom’s adventure to reveal this spiritual arc to the reader through a combination of language, human interactions, and observations.

As a reader of Joyce’s Ulysses inhales and exhales this linguistic masterpiece, an opportunity exists to affect change in the reader’s consciousness and perhaps even in one’s own community. Through his configuration of various linguistic and literary styles to illustrate various societal constraints, Joyce presents his reading audience with views of his own cognitive dissonance, represented as the other through Leopold Bloom, as well as the distinction between the Irish consciousness and that of other countries in Europe during the first world war years. 

Joyce releases his own constraints and embraces the possibilities associated with challenging stereotypes, linguistic barriers, and cultural standards. He creates his own version of Nature and New Laws. His extensive references to elitist whims within this novel contribute to the iconic intricacies of dissonant cultures existing in the midst of a torn tapestry of Dublin and Europe as the people deal with the post and pre- world wars. Indeed, Joyce’s use of iconic realism throughout his novel, Ulysses, creates an awareness of the need for cultural change.

Marshall, Taylor, Ph.D., Thomas Aquinas in Fifty Pages, Electronic Copyright, Texas, U.S.A., 2013. 

Two Candles Burning and Iconic Realism

The following poem is the poetic version of the Introduction to a collection of short stories that I will finish writing...one day...

How does this explain iconic realism? Well, I was sitting in a church, watching two candles that people lit for a specific purpose, and I noticed how these candles seemed to take on the characteristics of playful humans. The candles were iconic representations of human need, sharing an inanimate form of delight in a setting that was meant to be solemn and prayerful. This activity, in turn, captured my attention, brought me immediately to my knees, and lifted my heart to furtively pray for the two people who lit those wicks hours before I arrived.   

 

Two Candles Burning

 

Two candles burn

dripping wax

in a molten dance

of devotion and delight

caressing the air,

amusing, antagonizing

in mischievous coalition.

Flames pulsate

in a zephyr's wave

like birds with fluttering,

flickering wings 

and entwine mid-air.

Two guests, having left the pews

leave with their prayers 

still swirling through the air.

Imploring with solicitude

as the reflective waxen fervor

blends with my own petitions,  

I kneel and add their hopes to mine, 

trusting the prayers will be answered 

in God's Time.

 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

 

Longfellow's "Evangeline" and Iconic Realism ("Evangeline" de Longfellow et realism emblématique) (Click onto this title to hear the song, Evangeline, sung by Annie Blanchard en français)

Photo from DuckDuckGo Images shows the statue of Evangeline, 

sitting in the Acadian Memorial in St. Martinville, Louisiana.

My absolute favorite American narrative poem is Evangeline, written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He beautifully illustrates the theory of iconic realism, for he writes of an iconic love between two Acadian villagers, separated by imperialistic orders of the British military.

As the two lovers set off on their lifelong quest, each alone, yet jointly searching through the American wilderness with hope of an eventual reunion, the audience becomes aware of diminishing cultures across this vast continent as one community gains control over another with little regard for cultural tolerance. In the final stanza of this epic poem, Longfellow illustrates that a culture, like love, may go through changes, but with God's gift of human perseverance and Divine purpose, both a culture and love will prevail:

Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow, 

Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping. 

Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard, 

In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed; 

Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them, 

Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever, 

Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy, 

Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors, 

Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey! 

Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branches 

Dwells another race, with other customs and language. 

Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic 

Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile 

Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom; 

In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy; 

Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun, 

And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story, 

While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neighboring ocean 

Speaks, and in accents disconsolate, answers the wail of the forest.

(Longfellow, Evangeline, Part II, Canto V)