AD603 Critical Theory

For me there exists a perpetual state of almost-completeness…or a sense of just about having everything figured out except for a few elusive bits of life-altering knowledge that, once found, will render my understanding whole. This way of thinking is obviously flawed, but I hold on to it…my perpetual hope. It twists the way I approach new information, and a year from now I’ll inevitably look back on this semester and feel foolish for how I perceived the various topics introduced in Critical Theory.

That said, I have a few memories of Eurocentricism (not that I knew what it was when these experiences were had) and thoughts on the Mosquera article.

The topic of European expectations for third world art was brought up in the Gardens and Machines class a while back. Juan Obando talked about Columbian photographers getting rich by taking pictures of the “suffering” children in Bogota.

A few weeks after this, I visited my girlfriend’s aunt and uncle. I was told that her aunt loves art…so much so that she’d filled her house with it. I found out that her aunt did, in fact, love art…so much so that she’d filled her house with ornately framed Picasso’s and Dali’s.

In elementary school there was this kid named Greg I liked to hang out with. He raced go-karts, smoked cigarettes, and had a leather burning kit. His dad had a sweet collection of Native American art. He’d get drunk and tell us how valuable it all was. About that same time, my class took a field trip to the Eiteljorg Museum in Indianapolis. That place was full of Native American art, and I started to form an idea of the “exotic.”

A couple years later, the exotic was further reinforced in my mind when I attended an African American culture festival. My mother did her undergrad a traditionally black school in Indianapolis called Martin University while I was in middle school. She liked to attend the arts and culture events and brought me along to expose me to “different ways of life.” Ha…mom.

I mention these Eurocentric memories because I’m wondering, like some of my other classmates, how I’ve come to create the things I call my art. Did I develop naturally…my questions and interests shaped by some innate and pure artistic guide? Or am I a product of Eurocentricism? And if so, what does this mean for me, a white but maybe black guy from Indiana? Am I exotic? Are there Eurocentric stereotypes I should be portraying in my work?

Currently, I’m not up to the challenge of Eurocentric deconstruction. I’m more interested in finding a new Eurocentric niche. There are many currently in existence, and they have gained proper respect as shown by their inclusion in academic discussion, galleries, and museums. There is one niche, however, which is yet to be legitimized…a style of art widely dismissed as trash. I am speaking of Redneck Art.

Redneck Art is the art of American rednecks. It utilizes an incredibly wide range of “at-hand” media, is largely representational and humorous in nature, and serves as a creative rallying point for a community that feels like outsiders in the contemporary art scene.

Take a look at these fine examples of Redneck Art, and ask yourself why this unique form of artistic creation is denied it’s own Eurocentric niche.

Mailbox Gun

Assquatch

Beverly Mobile

El Mansion

Butt Doorbell

I thought it would be interesting to identify a heterotopia using the principles outlined by Foucault in his article Of Other Spaces.

Foucault gives us six principles of a heterotopia:

1. Heterotopias exist for individuals whose behavior is deviant in relation to the required standards of society.

2. The function of a heterotopia is determined by the society in which it exists and is subject to change.

3. The heterotopia is capable of placing together, in a single real place, several spaces that are incompatible.

4. “The heterotopia begins to function at full capacity when men arrive at a sort of absolute break
with their traditional time.”

5. “In general, the heterotopic site is not freely accessible like a public place…To get in one
must have a certain permission…”

6. Heterotopias “have a function in relation to all the space that remains.”

In light of these principles, I will now discuss a specific heterotopia…elementary schools.

1. Elementary schools exist for children between the ages of five and eleven. One might immediately suggest that the behavior of elementary age children is not deviant in relation to the required standards of society because the standards for children are different than those for adults. However, this difference in expectations only occurs because of a deviation in what adults deem acceptable behavior. Children are considered unfit for adult environments for a variety of reasons (maturity level, physical ability, intellectual ability, etc.), and so they are sent to elementary schools to begin the process of developing their deficiencies.

2. This process of developing deficiencies has long been the primary function of elementary schools, but the methods for executing this function vary depending on the community in which the school exists. Curriculum, codes of conduct, nutritional plans, and technology options are all determined by society. The heterotopia (in this case the elementary school) has its say, but community influences, pressures, causes and concerns are largely responsible for changes in how the function is carried out. One interesting observation is that often the individuals for whom the heterotopia was initiated have little to no say in matters of the function.

3. The spaces within and elementary school are strangely conflicting. The playground versus library, the cafeteria versus the art room, the gymnasium versus the class room. Through out their day, children are forced into alternating and opposite states of physical, mental, and emotional awareness. In one instance they are encouraged to participate, to engage, and to strive, while in the next they are commanded to pause, to concentrate, and to reflect inwardly.

4. Time in elementary schools is distorted. It is unrealistically cyclical. There is no real understanding among elementary age children of compounding results. Each new school year brings a chance to begin anew…to earn better grades, make new friends, display better behavior. This “break” with traditional Time is completely necessary for elementary schools to function properly. If Time were strictly cumulative within elementary schools (and it is becoming that way), development among elementary age children would be stunted. Children need Time to be flexible and forgiving because mistakes are essential to learning.

5. The heterotopia of elementary schools is not freely accessible. Gaining access is not entirely difficult, but it is reserved for those with proper credentials. To be a part of the heterotopia of elementary schools, one must be at least one of the following:

-an elementary age student,

-the parent/gaurdian of an elementary age student,

-a certified elementary teacher,

-a school administrator,

-a government official,

-a service worker (maintenance, janitorial, cafeteria, etc.)

There are possibly additional roles that would allow access, but the point is that one has to have a socially approved reason for involvement.

6. The heterotopia of elementary schools serves the function of preparing children to enter “the space that remains.” It is a foundational experience essential to the structure of the society in which it exists.

For this week’s additional resource, I included a link to a clip that reminded me of what elementary school was like.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wcWPT7Ec1kg

“Psychoanalysis is not concerned with what is logical, what is rational and what is conscious; on the contrary, it is concerned with what is illogical, irrational and unconscious. Psychoanalysis looks at those aspects of thinking and behavior for which we cannot rationally or consciously account.” This quote, and other important contextual information from the Homer article, offer a much needed background for psychoanalysis, and serve as good ‘fall backs’ or reference points when the study of this subject becomes confusing.

This post is influenced by and based on the Homer article due only to the unfortunate fact that the Lacan reading provided me more frustration and raw anger (according to Homer, this indicates my unconscious is working) than insight. I will not seek to create a cohesive group of thoughts pointing towards some end, instead, I will highlight different points I noticed in Homer’s writing and some of the thoughts they inspired.

I believe, and not of my own theoretical process, that one of the most difficult things for a man or woman to do is pursue the uncertain. Psychoanalysts working at the beginning of Lacan’s career, according to Homer, had ceased this pursuit. Their work had become preoccupied with the revision and resolution of Freudian concepts. To Lacan, psychoanalysis “had become conservative and reactionary. By playing down the more uncomfortable and disturbing aspects of the theory, especially the underlying presence of repressed, unconscious, desire in our mental lives, psychoanalysis had made itself respectable but it had lost its radical edge.” That Lacan embraced the fringes, the unknown or uncomfortable, immediately made his work (without ever having read it) more intriguing to me.

It is typical of humans, even artists, to desire praise and acknowledgement. The thought of intentionally embarking on a journey to contradict well-known establishments is, at best, fantasy for most. For Lacan (who admittedly had his share of supporters) however, this is precisely what he chose to do. Matters of the mind are not as certain or concrete as mathematics or physics. Regardless of this observation (and as I previously stated) men and women crave what is known, what is absolute, and it follows that matters of the mind were treated as subjects for which ‘laws’ were applicable. “Lacan,” as Homer puts, “set himself on a collision course with the psychoanalytic establishment. Indeed, from the time of his earliest publications, the name ‘Lacan’ has gone hand in hand with some of the most ferocious criticism you are likely to read.” A lesson here, one which I am still learning, is that not everyone perceives things similarly, and sometimes this difference in perception creates confusion, which is thereby expressed with an emotion that is more easily understood…anger.

The quote I chose to open this post follows immediately after Homer’s discussion of two points he deems “important” when considering psychoanalysis. I too, offer a humble recommendation of these two points, as they profoundly impacted my impartial, if not opposing, stance towards psychoanalysis. “First, from its inception psychoanalysis has consistently been attacked as having no firm basis in reality and therefore for being unverifiable…Second, it is precisely the assumptions underlying this review that are questioned by psychoanalysis: the assumption that our theories and views of the world are detached from our position as subjects within it.”

The final point of interest worth discussing is with regard to how one may actually speak about the unconscious. How can one tap into it? Homer suggests that, “To speak of unconscious desire is to render it conscious and the unconscious, by definition, is that which is excluded from and cannot be recalled to consciousness, The unconscious, in other words, is that which is excluded from language.” Fortunately, this does not mean the subconscious is impenetrable or inaccessible, and herein lies the point…the ‘HOW’? The ‘how’ is what concerns psychoanalysis. It is precisely what Freud and Lacan searched after for the entirety of their careers…’how’ to access the unconscious. For Freud this meant analyzing “dreams, jokes, slips of the tongue and works of art.” For Lacan, the structure with which he composed his written work was the means to ‘how’.

For this week’s supplemental material, I have attached below a poem from Andre Breton, one of the founding figures of the Surrealist movement, to which Lacan developed such strong ties.

I read the readings. They detailed the ID, the Ego, and The Super-Ego, and there were also explanations regarding Pre-Consciousness (Pcs.), Consciousness (Cs.), and the Unconscious (Ucs.).

Perhaps that is all I can intelligently expound on their content…

There must be contextual information or technical explanations that I am lacking. Freud for Beginners was nice, but I needed the level below, maybe Freud for Dummies.

The remainder of this post will address the methods I used to begin the process of understanding (hopefully) Freud.

In light of my Freudian ineptitude, I went to the web. There I began scouring the search engines for “Explain Freud,” “Freud in layman’s terms,” “What’s with Frued,” “Frued made easy,” and other such phrases in hopes of finding a simplistic explanation I could digest. This search led me through forums, message boards, and several sweet websites! Finally, I found what I was looking for:

 http://www.english.bham.ac.uk/staff/tom/teaching/theories/theorieslectures/freud/freudlecture.htm

Written as a lecture by a professor of English at The University of Birmingham named Tom Davis, this material outlined and explained the need to know information on Frued. Shannon, perhaps you could take a look at the site to see if it’s valuable or misleading.

Another measure taken to promote my Freudian understanding was to wait and see what other people were saying. First, this provided me with the relief of knowing others were having Freud difficulties, and second, it yielded some valuable insights. Of particular interest was the section in Mr. Aaron Nemec’s post regarding Andy Warhol’s (typically satirical) Rorschach tests. Mr. Nemec provided a quote from Rosalind Krauss, an American art critic and theorist (thank you Wikipedia), which read, “Warhol pulled the plug on these sublime aspirations by reminding us that there’s no form so innocently abstract that it can’t be turned back into literary content.” This quote and what I believe to be Warhol’s intent correspond indirectly to Ms. Alexa Unser’s fear that Freud’s theories of the mind are monopolizing the world of psychoanalysis. To be more direct, I sense (in others) and personally have a certain amount of skepticism in simply handing over the explanation of the complexities of the mind to the work of one man…and rightly so. For this reason, I will proceed with caution as we delve deeper into the innermost parts of the mind. 

I’m hesitant to offer any thoughts on how to relate Freudian concepts to my or anyone else’s artwork. It seems too early for that. No, I will wait for this evening’s discussion, allow my views to be challenged and certainly repositioned, and then I will begin the process of relation.

Before I conclude, I strongly suggest following the website link I posted for anyone having a hard time understanding this week’s readings. Professor Tom Davis does a nice job of breaking down the different parts of Freud’s theories and explaining them in everyday language.

Considering Aura:

I’m still thinking about aura. There’s more to it than we discussed in class. Is aura within a work of art, within the viewer of the piece, or does it exist somehow as a result of the interaction between artwork and audience? I’m having a hard time forming an argument for any choice because immediate and difficult implications arise, or I can instantly think of counterpoints to my claims. All I have now are questions. So, here follows a somewhat organized selection of questions to apply to aura.

-How is this aura experienced?

-Is there tangible evidence of aura?

-What senses detect aura?

-Why is it possible that, when viewing the same piece of work, one observer determines the piece has an aura and the other observer determines it does not?

-Are there positive and negative auras?

-Is the aura supernatural?

-How does the belief in the existence of an aura (which is unseen, unheard, and poorly described by words) differ from the belief in God?

-What is the reach of aura?

The Spectacle:

Before reading Guy Debord’s work, I took a few moments for self-reflection. What is the essence of spectacle? How have I positioned the word in my understanding?

Spectacle.

And, it appeared before me. A circus…with clowns wearing baggy, silk pants, tigers roaring with flames behind them, a long-legged lady in some shimmering, bikini-like outfit juggling large hoops while Jack Russell Terriers jump between them. But, this vision didn’t occur underneath a big-top tent. It was on a narrow street lined with tall buildings and eateries, and not everyone was entirely pleased with the performance. An elephant stepped on the hood of a car, prompting the owner to yell out obscenities, a woman with a baby screamed and ran in a zig-zag pattern looking for safety from ‘The Man with Half a Body!’ (who was surprisingly quick on his hands), and a cat hunched her back and made that loud “reeeeeaaaaaarrr!” noise when one of the Terriers got too close. For the most part, though, the audience seemed entertained by the chaos and disruption brought by the circus.

After writing the above description of spectacle, I began Debord’s work. Not surprisingly, his discussion of spectacle was different from mine, but I appreciated it. Not since Rius’ Marx for Beginners have I been able to work through a reading with such enjoyment. For reasons I am unaware of, the analysis of the workings of political and financial economy interest me. Perhaps I’m some sort of Marxist…I don’t know, but I find the piecing together of this all-encompassing system, with all it’s different parts and players, to be fascinating.

Debord’s points transcend economics. Economic growth and abundance are at the roots, but their implications, their growths, rise up and branch out in every direction. These implications, this growth, is the spectacle. The spectacle creates “pseudo-needs” and confuses “satisfaction with survival.” The false need of the spectacle introduces a bizzaro world where “use value” decreases yet “exchange value” increases and the consumer readily purchase the products created by this “illusion.” I find it particularly intriguing that the power that drives the spectacle, the workers, submit to the cycle of their exploitation. Debord writes that the worker is given only the minimum amount of time “for maintaining his labor power” and is never considered in his “leisure and humanity.” He goes on to write that, “Once his workday is over, the worker is suddenly redeemed from the total contempt toward him that is so clearly implied by every aspect of the organization and surveillance of production, and finds himself seemingly treated like a grownup, with a great show of politeness, in his new role as a consumer.”

The Reconciliation:

I think there are similarities between the spectacle I innately considered and the one which Debord discusses. Both are forced upon their audience (some accept happily, while others object but go largely unnoticed). Also, both have a certain degree of preposterousness to them. And finally, both are a performance, an acting out with a beginning and an eventual end.

This week’s link comes from Wikipedia and offers a little background info on Mr. Debord: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Debord

I am displeased with the fact that I feel obligated to assess Benjamin’s article and offer altering negative and positive remarks on points he made. His statements include the usual tricks of Critical Theory (at least I think this article is Critical Theory) such as arguments which are apparently constructed in the valid forms but draw conclusions (yes, conclusions are found, though not uncommonly contradicted, in these writings) that do not follow their conditional statements, narrow analysis/over analysis of segmented topics, and statements that include absolute language. This particular article by Benjamin, which critiques reproducibility in art seems like mere grasping to me…the introduction of technical specifics in technological devices and their authenticity dashing romp into the realm of artistic reproduction. That I should now delve back into the piece, to retrieve examples of the fallacies and inconsistencies I accused, is greatly frustrating. For me personally, writings of this “critical” nature are quickly becoming irrelevant mazes (which end only with passage ways to new mazes or incomprehensible dead ends). My own skepticism towards these writings has increased, largely because the integrity of the “good points” introduced is almost always compromised by some forced conclusion later in the article. At best, what one could hope to gain from Critical Theory is a shabby quilt-work of personally selected but loosely related ”truths.”

I only need one example from this article to personally affirm my skeptical critique.  At the very bottom of page 24 and the top of page 25, Benjamin writes the following to make way for a section that discusses “cult” value and “exhibition” value:

“From a photographic plate, for example, one can make any number of prints; to ask for the ‘authentic’ print makes no sense. But as soon as the criterion of authenticity ceases to be applied to artistic production, the whole social function of art is revolutionized. Instead of being founded on ritual, it is based on a different practice: politics.”

Consider the construction of this argument. First, Benjamin states a well known fact about photographic plates, but then he immediately ties it together with a personal opinion about what constitutes authenticity. At this point, he implies that, because this fact regarding photographic plates and his opinion seem to be related, the criterion of authenticity in art is ceasing to be applied. Then, Benjamin pushes his argument one step further and draws the conclusion that, due to technology in reproducibility, the social function of art is now based on politics (run by evil gallery owners) when it was once based on ritual (created by genial cavemen).

This is literary propaganda. Broken down to simple terms, Benjamin’s argument reads, “If this obscure piece of technical information is true, and I hold this well-articulated opinion, then it follows that I may create a conclusion I deem to be true.”

There’s more than a singular instance of ridiculousness like this in Benjamin’s article, but my patience with the Critical Theory is thin today, and I feel tainted…contaminated…like this style of writing and drawing conclusions is rubbing off on me.

I think I’m going to retake the Ethics class I had a few years back. In the meantime, this site can help you (and certainly me) brush up on what it means to “argue”: http://www.philosophypages.com/lg/e01.htm

Based on class discussion and the first round of blog postings, I’ve changed my approach to this course. In fact, I’ve changed my approach to graduate studies all together. My tendency has always been, at least initially, to construct a sense of ‘knowing’ or ‘understanding’ before myself. In this way, I have always been able to sit comfortably in academic settings while presenting reasonable, yet half-constructed and often, weak thoughts on whatever subject was up for discussion.

The time for such behavior is at an end.

I am trained in a professional discipline and could easily land a job at a firm or corporation if I decided to pursue one. In truth, there is no real reason for me to be in a Master’s program beyond the desire I felt to simply “learn more.” This is a time for transparency in deficiency. I am limited. I am incomplete. And I am searching…searching not only for knowledge, but for wisdom, which is better defined as skill in living.

In this light, I conclude it is unwise to try and gain understanding by feigning it. Rather, when writing about and discussing topics that are foreign to me, I will confirm what I have come to understand and pose questions for what I have not.

In this posting, I will primarily examine the selection from Theodor Adorno’s Aesthetic Theory titled On the Relation Between Art and Society. The article discusses what it is that art seeks to represent or recreate and sets up art’s relationship to empirical reality (i.e. that which is derived from experience and observation alone). From here, it elaborates on aesthetics and criteria for judging art, before shifting focus towards the same criteria established by two great, yet dissimilar thinkers in Freud and Kant.

The line, in which Adorno captures my attention, is found in the first paragraph on page 234. He writes, “Every work of art is an instant; every great work of art is a stoppage of the process, a momentary standing still, whereas a persistent eye sees only the process.” This sentence passes by so quickly. Adorno does not linger about here; he moves steadily forward to the next point. In fact, he must because to bask in the glow of his intellect would be contradictory to the thought itself. But, I will pause here…creating my own ’stoppage of the process’ to ’stand still’ and consider this point. My understanding of this point says that every great work of art causes the process of artistic advancement and development to stop. How? By exploiting the very instinct that draws artists to recreate empirical reality. That experience…that observation of something of value and greatness evokes a desire within the artist to “do it again.” How else could ’styles’ of artistic expression exist? There would be no group of Realists, no group of Surrealists, no schools of artistic thought or stylistic movements.

At this point, I must say I am not certain I understand the context of Adorno’s statement. Nor do I completely grip the statements following it, but I find them interesting, and perhaps, able to be related to my current position as a teacher of art and one responsible for laying a foundation of conceptual knowledge to beginning art students. In this section, Adorno writes on what he presumably considers the “backwards tendency” to “perceive art in terms of extra-aesthetic or pre-aesthetic criteria.” In other words, he is questioning the assignment of meaning and conceptual significance to art. For reasons unclear to me, Adorno despises this type of thought, but at the same time seems to acknowledge its necessity to art with the following statement. “If art is perceived strictly in aesthetic terms, then it cannot be properly perceived in aesthetic terms.”

Faced with these lines, I asked, “How then, Adorno, do you suggest I perceive art? How do I ‘judge’ it?” The answer, I think buried somewhere within the next column on page 34, yet remaining undiscovered by me, is pointed at in these lines:

“There is no privileged single category, not even the aesthetically central one of form, that defines the essence of art and suffices to judge its product. In short, art has defining characteristics that go against the grain of what philosophy of art ordinarily conceives as art.”

With this I rest my fingers and my mind…both sufficiently exercised and stimulated by the generous Theodor Adorno.

I wonder if Adorno would chuckle (if he ever dared) at this youtube video on The Art Critique by Mark Taubensee.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PGp7LHoqHoE

In examining, for the first time, the historical contexts, principle concepts, and important figures of Marxism, Critical Theory, Philosophy, Economic Doctrine, and Historical Materialism my mind’s ability to process, sort, understand, and apply became increasingly bogged down. I made my primary challenge discerning which information was pertinent to Critical Theory, and as I read, it became clearer that in being able to grasp what Critical Theory is, it is equally important to know what it is not. With that as a guide, I offer my critique of the three assigned readings.

The foundation for my comprehension of the primary concepts of Critical Theory was well-laid by Ruis’ Marx for Beginners. Made immediately approachable through cartoons and plain writing, Marx for Beginners commences with a brief introduction to Marx’s life circumstances and how they influenced his writings. It then moves swiftly into a breakdown of the workings of the Capitalist Economic System by supplementing Marx’s words with easy to understand summary points. For me personally, the explanations offered on wages, the value of labor, prices, profits, and the illusion of financial freedom were of great value. Marx’s admonitions of the Capitalist System are powerful…moving, and it was of some difficulty to resist inserting the faces of my largely blue-collar family into the role of the proletariat and remain an objective outsider. After bringing readers up to speed on must-know contextual and economic information, Marx for Beginners transitions to the roots of Communism, Engles’ Credos of the Communist League, and the eventual publication of The Communist Manifesto in 1847. In short, the Manifesto chastises the inhumanity and greed of the bourgeoisie (whose arrival is summarized on pgs. 128-30), pleads with the working class to realize the severe degree to which it is oppressed, and boldly outlines the systematic changes which must occur in a society if ever it wishes to achieve the ideal of Communism. Marx for Beginners begins drawing towards an end with the outlining of Marx’s theory on Historical Materialism and its implications for the future of Capitalism…which, in light of its irreconcilable contradictions and the inevitable reverberations of class struggle, is not promising. From this point, Marx’s call for the working class to unite in its struggle is demonstrated by the analogy of the fist, which aptly lends itself to his comments that, sooner or later, the confrontation and struggle between the working class and the bourgeoisie will turn deadly. The reading concludes with a dictionary of Marxist terminology that is quite valuable in connecting and comprehending the two additional readings introducing Critical Theory.

The first of these two readings, Introduction to Critical Theory: Horkheimer to Habermas by David Held, very clearly states the author’s intentions in the introduction. Held says he intends, “to sketch the background and some of the main influences on critical theory’s development,” then, “to expound, around a number of themes, its main theoretical and empirical concerns,” and finally, “to demonstrate and assess the assumptions and implications of the work of its key exponents.” The historical context filled me in on the important happenings during the time shortly after Marx’s death to the Hitler-Stalin Pact of 1939. Most unfortunate, in my opinion, was the mishandling, idleness, and ultimate dissolution of the German Social Democratic Party (whose ideals were based on Marxist principles). An insightful comment on the situation by the author helped connect the time period discussed in this reading to a notion of pessimism that bubbled within me when first reviewing the Manifesto in Marx for Beginners. Held writes of the German Social Democratic Party, “It’s rhetoric was Marixist but its programme increasingly reformist.” From here, Held discusses how actual history in the years following the Manifesto “had not coincided with the expectations derived from the Marxist theory of the day.” Socially conscious individuals began seeking a way to match theory with practice, and out of this, critical theorists began their work. Of the emerging critical theorists, it is Horkheimer and Lukacs work that Held examines most closely for their criticism of Marxist theology. This criticism, though widely rejected, created a launching pad for future theorists to redefine the role of theory across a wider spectrum of topics ranging from abstract dilemmas of consciousness to practical issues of politics and economics.

The second Critical Theory specific reading, titled Critical Theory: Selected Essays by Max Horkheimer, was a well-placed stepping stone for a beginning Critical Theory student like myself. The preceding texts naturally deduce to Horkheimer’s work, offering first the massive foundation of Marxist theology, and then continuing with the framework of events and people important to Critical Theory’s beginnings. In Critical Theory: Selected Essays the student new to the field is invited in to the aforementioned structure for a chance to learn from one of it’s primary residents. Horkheimer floods this piece with clear, though often lengthy, declarations of what the concerns of Critical Theory are and what they are not. Rather than attempting to comb through each, I conclude with two such declarations that I believe most succinctly clarify Critical Theory.

“For this theory is not concerned only with goals already imposed by existent ways of life, but with men and all their potentialities.”

“A philosophy that thinks to find peace within itself, in any kind of truth whatsoever, has therefore nothing to do with the critical theory.”

PS. Check out this link to see the “Manifestoon” of the Communist Party….it’s pretty sweet minus the narrator…Mr. Monotone. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1IME451NDY)