Devitt claims that we have been creating dichotomies (such as form from content, writer from society, and product from process) that are unproductive. She believes that a new conception of genre can help collapse these dichotomies and, possibly, bring us to “a unified theory of writing” (573). The old conception understands genre as a set of categories with forms to fill. The new conception “shifts the focus from effects (formal features, text classifications) to sources of effects” (573). When we identify a genre, “we make assumptions not only about the form but also about the text’s purpose, its subject matter, its writer, and its expected reader…and [we] respond accordingly” (575). Genre, then, “entails purposes, participants, and themes, so understanding genre entail understanding a rhetorical and semiotic situation and social context” (576). Utilizing Bitzer, Devitt asserts that genres “develop…because they respond appropriately to situations that the writers encounter repeatedly” (576). So, a first writer responds fittingly, a similar situation occurs, the writer goes back to what has been done in the past. In this way, genres are social constructed. “Knowing the genre, therefore, means knowing such things as appropriate subject matter, level of detail, tone, and approach as well as the usual layout and organization” (577). At the same time, “genre not only response to but also constructs the recurring situation” (577). Put another way, when we choose the genre, we are choosing which situation to see (578). Genres, then, are dynamic, and because they are dynamic, writers can respond creatively to writing situations. They can choose to adhere to, violate, and combine existing genres. In summation, Devitt writes, “[G]enre is a dynamic response to and construction of recurring situations, one that changes historically and in different social groups, that adapts and grows as the social context changes… Genre is…a maker of meaning” (580).
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Miller, Carolyn. “Genre as Social Action.” Quarterly Journal of Speech 70.2 (1984): 151-167.8/19/2015 Miller asserts that “genre study is valuable because…it emphasizes some social and historical aspects of rhetoric that other perspectives do not” (151). “To base a classification of discourse upon recurrent situation or, more specifically, upon exigence understood as social motive, is to base it upon the typical joint rhetorical actions available at a given point in history and culture” (158). In this piece, then, she works to define genre and its components as they relate to meaning-making and action.
"This leads to a focus on genres as socially defined strategies for doing, i.e., for achieving particular types of purposes in particular types of situations" (Coe and Freedman 43). Key Terms
This article is less about building genre theory and more about apply Miller’s genre theory to blogs. Thereby, it provides an example of how one might analyze a genre with Miller’s concepts. We are given, however, some theory about genre, kairos, and subjectivity.
Genre, Kairos, and Ancestral Genres “When a type of discourse or communicative action acquires a common name within a given context or community, that’s a good sign that it’s functioning as a genre…‘Genres are an intellectual scaffold on which community-based knowledge is constructed' ([Berkenkotter and Huckin]).” “[W]e must see genre in relation to kairos, or socially perceived space-times…Kairos describes both the sense in which discourse is understood as fitting and timely – the way it observes both propriety and decorum – and the way in which it can seize on the unique opportunity of a fleeting moment to create new rhetorical situations.” “We should not define a genre by its failed examples, even if they are a majority, but at the same time we must be open to the possibility that there may be multiple forms of success.” “One important way to study the rhetorical innovation of a new genre, Jamieson argued, is to look for the ‘chromosomal imprint of ancestral genres…These ancestral genres should be considered part of the rhetorical situation to which the rhetor responds, constraining the perception and definition of the situation and its decorum for both the rhetor and the audience. And, within limits, by their incorporation into a response to a novel situation, ancestral genres help define the potentialities of the new genre: the subject-positions of the rhetor and audience(s), the nature of the recurrent exigence, the decorum (or ‘fittingness’ in Bitzer’s terms) of response.” Subjectivity “Subjectivity is not a transhistorical phenomenon, and its expression has no universal methods or conventions; rather, they are products of a time and place, formed in interaction with a kairos [Vivian]…[T]he self is a result of ‘operations’ by a subject ‘so as to transform [itself] in order to attain a certain state of happiness, purity, wisdom, perfection, or immortality [Foucault] …Character is manifested in choice [Aristotle].” Ecology There are also a few connections to ecology in the vocabulary Miller and Shepherd use.
Blogs as Genre
Freedman writes an article about whether we can explicitly teach genre to student, ultimately deciding that (for the most part) the answer is no. Williams and Colomb and Fahnestock respond to Freedman’s article, poking hole in her methodology, her sources, her definitions, and her examples; these authors argue that teacher can – and should – teach genre explicitly. Freedman comes back to respond to Fahnestock and Williams and Colomb, maintaining that Fahnestock’s examples are of using rather then learning/teaching genre and that Williams and Colomb’s understanding of teaching genre falls fairly nicely into Freedman’s Restricted Hypothesis.
Freedman, Aviva. “Show and Tell? The Role of Explicit Teaching in the Learning of New Genres.” Research in the Teaching of English 27.3 (1993): 222-51. Freedman asks, “What role, if any, can or should the explicit teaching of genre features play in learning new genres?” (224 emphasis in original). In discussing the recent research about genre, Freedman writes, “The notion of genre has in recent years been reconceived so that the recurring textual regularities which characterize genres are themselves seen as secondary to, and a consequence of, the action that is being performed through the texts in response to recurring socio-cultural context”(225). In response to her research question, Freedman offers to hypotheses:
Freedman uses some of her own research as well as research about first- and second-language acquisition to support her hypotheses. She ends by calling for more research about teaching genre and about whether genre should be taught implicitly or explicitly. Williams, Joesph M. and Gregory G. Colomb. “The Case for Explicit Teaching: Why What You Don’t Know Won’t Help You.” Research in the Teaching of English 27.3 (1993): 252-64. Williams and Colomb refute Freedman’s argument in a variety of ways. First, they say that her hypotheses are not framed productively. Because the Strong Hypothesis is absolute, it can be disproven “by a single uncontested counter-example” (252). Even the Restricted Hypothesis is problematic because, though it is hedged, “The hedges are undefined” (253). Second, the scope of Freedman’s hypothesis is problematic. All of her examples address specific genres, yet, to be useful, her hypotheses need to address a more general academic writing. They continue, “So before we consider the substance of Freedman’s argument, we must take the liberty of reframing her question to make it not categorical, but prudential, not specific, but general…”Is the benefit of explicit teaching of salient features work the cost?” (253). The authors continue to weaken Freedman’s argument by showing how her claims are built on “shaky” and/or unreliable assumptions and sources. They move to show how research in the field already supports explicit teaching of genre and offer their own research study to further prove their point. They end with these two notes for the support of explicit teaching:
Fahnestock, Jeanne. “Genre and Rhetorical Craft.” Research in the Teaching of English 27.3 (1993): 265-71. Fahnestock argues against Freedman by pointing out that: (1) Freedman uses a variety of definitions of genre; these definitions shift the possibility and the benefit (or not) of explicitly teaching genre, and (2) Freedman ignores the fact that genres have been taught explicitly since classical rhetoric. In support of explicitly teaching, Fahnestock suggests that
Freedman, Aviva. “Situating Genre: A Rejoinder.” Research in the Teaching of English 27.3 (1993): 272-81. Freedman addresses first the three questions posed by Fahenstock; “How is genre defined/ How should we interpret the history of explicit instruction of genre within the rhetorical tradition? And how does on best learn a craft?” (272). She ultimately argues that Fahenstock’s examples show (a) someone using, not learning, genre (273) or (b) someone teaching particular feature of a genre (like the organization), which the Restricted Hypothesis allows. Then, after criticizing Williams and Colomb for ignoring relevant literature and relying on teacher intuition too heavily, Freedman argues that Williams and Colomb understanding of teaching genre falls under the Restricted Hypothesis. Freedman also expands on her definition of genre: “[G]enre is best understood pragmatically: as social act, or as typified rhetorical response within recurrent (socially-constructed) situations” (272). She stresses that she does, in fact, think form is important (Fahenstock suggested that Freedman does not): “Textual regularities continue to function as critical indicators of genre.” (272). She also asserts that context is more and is other than physical (or disciplinary setting) the social motive that animates genre is experienced in response to recurrent socially-constructed situations that can be defined along a range of social, cultural, political, ideological, and discursive context to which rhetors respond in their writing, and, as such shape and enable the writing; it is in this way that form is generative…As social actions governed by social motives within recurrent socially-constructed contexts, genres can only be learned when that social motive is experienced by the rhetoric; and that experiencing can only take place within the relevant context” (273). “[W]e learn from events as we interpret them, and one of the main ways of interpreting them is by talking about them – by giving them shape in language” (98). So that from joint action in encounters with other people we build a shared social world. I want to see that in two steps: take it first at a momentary level. In any encounter each member of the group interprets the situation in his way and acts in the light of that interpretation. To act, which include speaking, of course, is to present oneself. So in this encounter, each member of this group is presenting himself. To act is also to modify the situation. But interactions means that these interpretations and self-presentations embodied in action are offered like pierces in a jigsaw, and it’s the fitting together of the jigsaw that in fact confirms and modified the individual interpretations and shapes the outcome of the encounter. And now, very briefly look at the cumulative process. Day by day year by year, we classify, further interpret, and store these interpretations and these self-presentations and so construct a social world and an individual personality within it” (103). He also argues that we come to an encounter with our selected, interpreted past experience and interpret the new encounter in light of the experience. Sometimes, that means that we shift our past interpretations to include and take account of the new encounter (102). Britton uses the following chart to explain writing and experience as meaning making. Expressive language is “language close to the self; language that is not called upon to go very far away from the speaker…[In expressive language] you know need know the speaker and context. Expressive language is about fiving signals about the speaker as well as signals about his topic. And so it delivered in the assumption that the hearer is interested in the speaker as well as the topic” (96). Transactional “is language that gets thing done, language as a means. Poetic language is a construct, not a means but an end in itself” (107). Expressive language can lean more toward transactional or more toward poetic. Because expressive language is used to make sense of experience, teachers need to prioritize, and not cut off, expressive language. “English teachers [should] foster the kind of language which represents a concern for the total world-picture, the total context into which every new experience that comes to a child – a man – has to be fitted” (109). Additionally, Britton argues that children “internalize” what they read and hear in order to write and speak. “[I]t is highly selective and it depends upon internal structures already in existence. It’s personal job, a personal selection and internalizing in terms of individual needs and interest” (99). A teacher, then, shouldn’t cut off this individual, personal selection.
He also states that there are two listener roles – spectator and participant. “In the spectator role, we are free from the need to interact” and from an obligation to act (104). The participant, on the other hand, is either acting in the encounter or, listening to an encounter, as asked by the speaker to complete some action. “Free then from the need to interact, we use that freedom, I suggest, first of all to pay attention to forms in a way that we don’t when we participate. And the forms of language, particularly” (105). More, “we take up the spectator role out of need – when we need to go back and come to terms with undigested experience” (105). Britton believe that the writer is alone without an audience. “You have to imagine your audience and hold him fully in mind if you are to take his needs into account” (97). |
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