Notes from the Editor

On Origins

by Laura Ivins-Hulley

In 2008 I attended the American Anthropological Association’s annual meeting and happened to catch a panel, “Writing Ethnography,” that featured a spoken word poem presented by Gina A. Ulysse of Wesleyan University. In her presentation, “Alter(ed)native (I): Spokenword as Ethnography,” she performed what she described as the “excesses” of her ethnography – those bits of research and field notes that for one reason or another didn’t make it into her books and articles, but were still central to the experience of the culture(s) she studied. The performance of the poem captured the sometimes fragmented poetics of subjectivity, and delved into the reiterations and pressing themes that color how we view the world. She gave us a glimpse into the emotional frames that are just as worthy of scholarship, and yet do not fit into the standard format of academic publications.

The next spring, I was reading Subversive Intent: Gender, Politics, and the Avant-Garde by Susan Rubin Suleiman, which contains a metapolylogue a la Gregory Bateson between a father and daughter in the introduction. Through this playful conversation, Suleiman sets up the themes of her book in a way that enacts the impossibility of “a totally tidy theory of playing and modernity.” What does it mean in her dialogue that the mother is masked as these philosophical figures? Why does access to the mother come through the filter of the male author? Her framing of themes through the dialogue allows the reader to take the subject position of an inquisitive child for a moment, facilitating reflection from a more open position.

These two academic experiences got me thinking of other theorists, philosophers and scholars whose work necessarily exceeded the bounds of tradition – Eisenstein, the surrealists, Bataille, the list continues. “Why,” I wondered, “don’t we see that sort of thing more often?” Where are the venues for this type of scholarship? Some of my colleagues agreed, and after a few casual conversations and emails, The Wig was born.

It is my hope that The Wig will become a place where scholars and philosophers feel comfortable playing with how they formulate ideas. What if we don’t systematize surrealism? What does history look like without narrative informing its structure? Why are exhibition reviews always of the artwork? Why not of the audience?

This first issue, then, seeks to introduce some possibilities, prompt conversations, and hopefully inspire others to share their own experiments with the wider scholarly community. In it, we present pleas for subjectivity, theory that enacts its own structure, and incorporations of the authors' lived experience. We welcome comments and further contributions.

Thank you for reading, watching and listening.


Editors Notes Right click icon and choose "Save As" to download pdf.