Professional Documents
Culture Documents
12 Transculture: A Broad Way Between Globalism and Multiculturalism
12 Transculture: A Broad Way Between Globalism and Multiculturalism
Transculture
A Broad Way Between Globalism and
Multiculturalism
By MIKHAIL EPSTEIN*
*Mikhail Epstein is Samuel Candler Dobbs Professor of Cultural Theory and Russian
Literature at Emory University (Atlanta). Born in Moscow, he moved to the United States
in 1990. His research interests include the history of Russian literature and philosophy,
postmodernism, semiotics and linguistics, and new methods and interdisciplinary
approaches in the humanities. He is the author of 18 books and more than 500 essays
and articles, translated into 14 languages. His books include After the Future: The
Paradoxes of Postmodernism and Contemporary Russian Culture (1995), Transcultural
Experiments: Russian and American Models of Creative Communication (with E. Berry,
1999), Russian Postmodernism: New Perspectives on Post-Soviet Culture (with A. Genis
and S. Vladiv-Glover, 1999), Cries in the New Wilderness: From the Files of the Moscow
Institute of Atheism (2002), and Mapping Blank Spaces: On the Future of the Humanities
(in Russian, 2004). Professor Epstein expresses gratitude to the Institute for Comparative
and International Studies at Emory University for the travel grant that allowed him to
present this paper at the International Society of Universal Dialogue Congress in
Hiroshima, Japan, June 1–5, 2007.
American Journal of Economics and Sociology, Vol. 68, No. 1 (January, 2009).
© 2009 American Journal of Economics and Sociology, Inc.
328 The American Journal of Economics and Sociology
I
Globalism and Multiculturalism
II
Transculture as Being Beyond and Radical Otherness
III
Transculture vs. Multiculturalism: Moral Aspects
FROM THE MID-1990S, the transcultural vision began to take root in the
West, too, in connection with the crisis of the concept of “multicul-
turalism.” Unlike “multiculturalism,” which establishes value equality
among different cultures and their self-sufficiency, the concept of
transculture implies their openness and mutual involvement. Multicul-
turalism extols “pride” in any single culture (and especially of cultural
minorities), whereas transculturalism embraces the moral value of
humility that makes one culture open to other cultures. Every culture
is intrinsically insufficient and needs interaction with other cultures to
compensate for its deficiencies: rational culture needs sensual ele-
ments, male culture needs female elements, and vice versa. The
principle that applies here is not that of difference, but that of
“interference,” of “dispersion” of symbolic values of each culture in
the field of all others. If multiculturalism insists on the individual’s
belonging to a certain “natural” culture, which is biologically and
biographically predetermined (“black culture,” “women’s culture,”
“youth culture,” “gay culture,” etc.), “transculture” implies diffusion of
initial cultural identities as individuals cross the borders of various
cultures and assimilate them.
Although culture in its development distances itself from nature, it
still preserves many natural, ethnic, psychophysical, socioeconomic,
and geographical features that determine it as “white” or “black,”
“French” or “Russian,” “male” or “female.” Transculture is the freedom
of every person to live on the border of one’s “inborn” culture or
beyond it.
This need to “escape from oneself,” from the “golden chains” of
one’s native culture can be illustrated by the life and thought of Merab
Mamardashvili (1930–1990), an outstanding Soviet philosopher, a
Georgian by origin. As the Soviet Union began to disintegrate, Mamar-
dashvili moved from Moscow to Tbilisi and was urged at the end of
his life to present himself as a “Georgian philosopher” and learn the
“pleasures” of forced identification with his “native” culture. Mamar-
dashvili noted the danger of nonfreedom in multicultural slogans as
follows: “Each culture is valuable in itself. People must be allowed to
Transculture 335
this aspiration forgets and makes us forget that there exists a metaphysics
of freedom and thought that is not peculiar to us alone. This is a kind of
reverse racism.7
IV
Transculture and the Paradox of Postmodernity:
Determinism and Deconstruction
films, and all works of art and culture are created and consumed: to
dissolve the solidity of one’s natural identity and to share the
experience of “the other.”
Identity may be formed both on biological and symbolic levels, for
example, as “natural sex” and as “cultural sexism,” which correspond
to the two possible movements of their subversion, cultural and
transcultural. This can be illustrated by one passage from Julia Kriste-
va’s “Women’s Time” (1979). In her challenge to the concept of
“gender identity” that had been cherished by the previous generations
of feminists, Kristeva finds it necessary to:
bring out—along with the singularity of each person and, even more,
along with the multiplicity of every person’s possible identifications . . . —
the relativity of his/her symbolic as well as biological existence.14
V
Transculture: Culture = Culture: Nature
SOMETIMES I HEAR the following objection: Can you indeed escape the
confines of your native culture, your primary identity?—My answer is:
Of course, I cannot. The distinction of transculturalism from globalism
or its older brand, “cosmopolitanism,” is precisely this relevance of the
primary (ethnic, national) cultures, which the latter attempts to ignore
or bypass. A cosmopolitan, a citizen of the world, claims to belong
directly and immediately to the human kind as a whole, disregarding
ethnic, racial, and other differences. A transcultural personality fully
recognizes hu’s roots in a certain cultural ground, though hu does not
want to cling to them.
In no way does transculture claim to abolish our cultural “body,” the
totality of symbols and habits inherited by us at birth and acquired
through family and education. Similarly, our life in culture does not
abolish our physical body, but enriches its symbolic meanings and
potentials as expressed in dance, painting, drama, sports, and other
cultivated body activities. The culture of food or the culture of
desire—the ritual of meals, the ritual of courtship, and so forth—
represent liberation from the bare instincts of hunger and lust, their
creative postponement, their symbolic mastering and conscientious
enjoyment. The body does not vanish in culture, but slavery to the
body disappears.
The same holds true for transculture: it does not abolish but
radically transforms and enriches our cultural bodies. While culture
frees humans from the prison of nature, it also creates new
dependencies—this time from culture’s own automatisms, customs,
traditions, conventions, which a person receives as a group being, a
member of hu’s clan, ethnos, any “default” norm and consensus.
Transculture 343
VI
Araki Yasuada, a Hiroshima Survivor, as a Transcultural
and Transpersonal Figure
It is not only our aesthetic right but in fact our moral duty to go
beyond our biographical identity in an attempt to speak (and listen)
on behalf of cultures other than our own.
We should be grateful to Motokiyu, who succeeded in creating
Yasusada and, even more, his friends, translators, editors, and execu-
tors. But who created Motokiyu? And who created his creator? The
answer is infinitely deferred, to use the deconstructionist cliché, but
what is more important and goes beyond the realm of deconstruction
is the construction of infinite authors in the place of the absent single
one. By this I do not imply that the quest for an original authorship
should be qualified as a critical fallacy; the point, rather, is that the
dispersion of creative origins is inscribed in the very act of creativity
and brings forth the possibilities of infinite answers. Is not the goal of
creativity the excess of meanings over signs and, therefore, the excess
of authors over texts, since each additional authorship is a way to
change radically the overall meaning of the text and to extend the
scope of its interpretations? Each text is allowed to have as many
authors and therefore as many cultural contexts and subtexts as it
needs to become excessively meaningful.
Vladimir Nabokov once remarked on what makes literature differ-
ent from the so-called true story or “the poetry of testimony”:
Literature was born not the day when a boy crying “wolf, wolf” came
running out of the Neanderthal valley with a big gray wolf at his heels:
literature was born on the day when a boy came crying “wolf, wolf” and
there was no wolf behind him.20
Is it not a blasphemy to “aetheticize” such a deeply pathetic
experience as conveyed by Yasusada’s poetry? Theodor Adorno
famously proclaimed that there can be no poetry after Auschwitz. We
might likewise conclude that there can be no poetry after Hiroshima.
But is this true? Could it be, instead, that poetry has to become
somewhat different from what it used to be in order to fulfill its human
calling after Hiroshima? If so, then the work of Yasusada points toward
one possible form of renewal: transpersonal and transcultural dis-
semination of authorship. With Yasusada, poetry reaches beyond the
individual’s self-expression, beyond the original testimony, beyond
the “flowering” of one person, to become “doubled flowering,” as the
title of Araki Yasusada’s book suggests. Or even “multiple flowering,”
346 The American Journal of Economics and Sociology
VII
Transcultural Premises for Nonviolence: Toward the Logic of Peace
This increasing role of the “what are you?” mentality, with its
militant and violent effects, is precisely the reason why transcultural
consciousness is now becoming central to our quest for peace, as a
way to prevent global conflicts between oppositional cultural identities.
Transculture 347
person can never fully identify huself with any single abstract quality;
to say “I am black” or “I am white” is a way of partial identification
that becomes false when it claims to be full and exhaustive. “I” has
no color, like the eyes into which we are looking deeply have no
color. The ethical principle of difference can be formulated in this
way: to oppose oneself to nobody, to identify oneself with nothing. As
soon as we eliminate oppositional components in our self-definition,
the component of identification will also be abandoned, and vice
versa.
Meanwhile, “opposition” and “identity” not only come from the
same logical nest, but in contemporary humanities they tend to
conflate again, which confirms their interdependent nature. For
example, in Honi Fern Haber’s elaboration of “the politics of differ-
ence,” which she uncritically identifies as “oppositional” politics, we
can find such oxymoronic expressions as the call “to achieve oppo-
sitional identities.”22 The goal of postmodern theory, as set by this
author, is “oppositional identity formation.” This is quite a coherent
conclusion, based on her assumption that “the subject must be seen as
being formed within communities—many communities and changing
communities.”23 Such is the theoretical limit of social determinism: it is
ready to acknowledge the variety of communities, but still insists on
the entirely communal nature of the subject. What is the driving force
of “changing communities,” then, if the individual as such is recog-
nized only as a member of the community, or, according to Haber’s
words, if “our interests are always the interests of some community or
another”?24
No wonder such an emphasis on collective identity reinforces the
oppositions among communities and leaves no space for difference as
a category that is itself different from both identity and opposition. The
misunderstanding goes as far as to equalize these two notions, “oppo-
sition” and “difference,” and to use them as synonyms: “My overall
project . . . attempts to create a space for oppositional politics that can
also be described as a ‘politics of difference’. . . .”25 It appears that a
“politics of difference,” by its very definition, cannot be oppositional,
but should be consistently differential, which means avoiding both
extremes of identity and opposition. The “differential” interaction
between people emphasizes their personal differences, preventing
Transculture 349
rather than that of fixed groups and cultures. Once again, a rule of
thumb for transcultural diversity: oppose yourself to nobody, identify
yourself with nothing. No identities and no oppositions—only con-
crete and multiple differences. The deeper is differentiation, the better
is the prospect for universal peace.
Notes
1. The concept of transculture was first presented in the following
publications: Epstein Mikhail (1990) “Govorit’ na iazyke vsekh kul’tur” [“To
Speak the Language of All Cultures”]. Nauka i Zhyzn [Science and Life] 1:
100–103; Epstein Mikhail (1995) “Culture—Culturology—Transculture.” In
After the Future: The Paradoxes of Postmodernism and Contemporary Russian
Culture. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press; and Ellen Berry and
Mikhail Epstein (1999) Transcultural Experiments: Russian and American
Models of Creative Communication. New York: St. Martin’s Press.
2. Bakhtin (1986: 7).
3. I am using in this article the epicene third-person pronoun hu, an
abbreviation of “human,” referring both to a man and a woman. The usage of
“hu” has become increasingly popular in academic writing and journalism.
The derivative forms are hu’s (possessive), hum (dative), huself (reflexive).
For example, “huself” helps us to avoid the cumbersome “himself or herself.”
I hope the reader may look benevolently at this usage of the inclusive
pronoun referring to all humans, which is in line with my main argument on
transculture as a way of transcending all established cultural identities, includ-
ing those of gender.
4. Mamardashvili (1992: 335).
5. Mamardashvili (1992: 337).
6. Mamardashvili (1992: 336).
7. Mamardashvili (1992: 336).
8. Chesnutt (1905: 25).
9. hooks (1995: 120).
10. Morrison (1981: 26).
11. Derrida (1997: 13–14).
12. T. S. Eliot wrote: “Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an
escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape
from personality” (1992: 764).
13. Derrida (1976: 61).
14. Kristeva (1990: 484).
15. Kristeva (1990: 484).
16. Kristeva (1990: 484).
17. Bakhtin (1979: 342).
18. Tosa Motokiyu, Oji Norinaga, and Okura Kyojin (1997).
Transculture 351
References