1 Cambridge October 7, 2006 What’s new in Lyn Hejinian’s new sentences? Peter Middleton In Oxota, Lyn Hejinian‟s Russian friend is dismissive of most readers of poetry: „“Do you know what middle-class people expect from poetry?' said Parshchikov later in Moscow, `a glimpse of eternity.‟”(95) What should they expect to glimpse if their class background did not deceive them? This is not poetry. Philosophers say that truth is justified true belief. Political ideology, religious dogma, mass culture‟s Jedi dreams, and the primary process that turns rationality into rationalisation, not to mention the illusions created by grammar and ordinary language, don‟t leave poets much confidence that a belief is anything more than retail dress. This is not prose. Lyn Hejinian's work can seem strange at first: no revelations, no easily discerned, standard model of the self, no recognisable politics. This is not a new sentence. This is not a new sentence. Knowledge either belongs to specialists and their unreadable jargon or as popular knowledge suffers from the same weaknesses as truth. Hejinian who loves to be astonished by her poem‟s findings displays in her work what Oxota phrases as 'strong impersonality'(chapter 179). Ron Silliman who coined the phrase the New Sentence transforms routine sentences into a routine, by making them comic with a verbal twist of lemon. The New Sentence deliberately lacks receptors that would allow adjacent sentences to attach their inferences. The discrediting of truth and 2 knowledge in poetry leaves late modernist poets in a dilemma, since most of them still want their poems to “join words to the world” as Lyn Hejinian puts it, even if “the incapacity of language” makes this aim ultimately impossible to achieve.i How could one experiment with the work of a poet? How tempting to read it all as aleatory engagements with the symbolic, a playful challenge to the epistemological sentence. Her poetry has other more significant contexts however, as well as being a quiet, meditative, sometimes witty (but not self-consciously so) poetry tracing thoughts on perception, sexuality and identity within their local contingencies. La phrase nouvelle in the gene sequencer. In an interview she said: "But am I, in my sentences (and my use of lines to expand their capacity and accuracy), in pursuit of change? Do I want to improve the world? Of course. If so,it will have to be in sentences, not by them. The sentence is a medium of arrivals and departures, a medium of inquiry, discovery and acknowledgement" (91 Brito). “Faire des phrases” means to talk in flowery sentences, so what would it mean to say “faire des phrases nouvelles”? Continuies between New American Poetry and Language Writing might suggest more general claims. Adjacency is all. Has American modernist poetics been consistently driven by a poetics of inquiry? A poet of the next generation, the Language Poets, Lyn Hejinian writes about her „romance with science‟s rigour‟ii and gave the title The Language of Inquiry to her collected essays on poetics. The New Sentence is an American sentence, free, rich, big and of course new, to borrow Gail McDonald‟s convenient summary of American self-descriptions, a sentence free of 3 obligations to the world, rich with the agency conferred by the imperial centre, bigger than the poetic phrase, and novel enough to attract consumer interest. During the eighties Lyn Hejinian published a number of poems from a sequence entitled The person as if echoing the Leibnizian preoccupation with the person as the 'paradigm of substance'. Several sections appeared in Mirage, including XIV in which she writes: 'Self-consciousness is discontinuous/The very word "diary"/ embarasses me/ There are schools of autobiography/ far removed'iii. Reading My Life we were soon wiser to her reticence as the expected autobiography continued to be delayed around the corner of each new recollective preamble. She concludes her contribution to Mirage by reflecting on the process of composition: 'When I am thinking about my work, I am often thinking about that thinking---its quality, motives, motifs, and instruments. Then, for me, poetry is the site of the consciousness of consciousness. The quality may have its analogues in the scientific method, but it is not so much "experimentalism" as a romance with science's rigor, patience, thoroughness, speculative imagination that informs it. The motives of the thinking spring from intuited necessity and are propelled by something like desire--restlessness, curiosity, anxiety, love. The motifs implode toward a phenomenology of consciousness---I write about what I know ('reality'), how I know it, and how I know I know it (articulation).'(24) One sentence on its own huddled among strangers. Phenomenology, knowledge, reality—these are terms of value taken from philosophy‟s arguments over epistemology. 4 Every new sentence is a catastrophe and there is little need for dramatic content. These comments in Mirage demonstrate a deftness and clarity in the way they acknowledge at once her distance from science, and kinship with it. Her hesitance about arrogating scientific method makes her qualify everything (“may”, “analogues”, “romance”, “motives) even as she tries to insist on the responsibilities imposed on her own curiosity. A pun-free zone. The idea of “experimental” writing goes back a long way to the work of Dewey and other pragmatists, though it has become synonymous with formalist invention and a disregard for political lament. Hejinian attempts to disarm criticism by deprecating her own interest as a “romance”, and then goes on to insist on features of science‟s ideals of research that are not always remembered in the standard opposition between the subjectivity of art and the objectivity of science. Binocular composition, ocular positions. Each of these ideals is one that need not belong to science alone; each of them is usually linked to the search for truth. Spots of rhyme. “Speculative imagination” is a clever expansion of the traditional noun used to name poetic intelligence to include the type of extrapolation from the facts that is permissible to scientists. In those years the U.S. government annexed the logics of public speech leaving only assertions of singularity as entries to public hearing. For many scientists and their supporters in government and education, science represented an ideal of democratic, egalitarian, international, community that stood out like a beacon in the face of nationalism, war, and genocide. The remark in The Cell---'I hate a person's sentimental/ use of the word "play"/ as a substitute for subjectivity'(27)---shows a keen awareness of the way poststructuralism alludes nostalgically to childhood in its attempts to represent 5 non-purposive patternings of subjectivity, the way subjectivity glances across the surfaces of language. Poets mostly learned their science from the Scientific American, and for much of the century this title of the magazine would have appeared to them to be a tautology: to be American was to be scientific and to be scientific was to be American in spirit. Wondering at the shore. From the nineteen-forties onward, leading intellectuals such as Robert K. Merton suggested that, in the words of the historian David A. Hollinger, “ordinary citizens would live by the code of the scientist”(Hollinger 1996: 158). Sentences are tested by subsequent sentences. This would mean, as the president of Harvard James B. Conant proposed, that people should aspire “to behave scientifically in social environments very different from the one in which science actually proceeds.”(162) This cosmopolitan ideal of a brotherhood of citizens committed to truth and its use for the good of mankind could help discredit science as well. At the scene of the poem. Eugenics and nuclear bomb research both offered ample counter-examples that could then be used to call into question the entire scientific project, but it was the expansive optimism amongst scientists that the “code of the scientist” could be extended to the study of human societies and applied to what were once thought of as moral or aesthetic problems, that elicited the most sustained resistance from poets. The genre of uninterrupted discourse dominates the following paragraph. The poet Muriel Rukeyser, in her reflections on The Life of Poetry (1949), reflecting back on the previous decades, wrote that “the scientist has suffered before the general impoverishment of imagination in some of the same ways as the poet.” This convergence is due to the need of both professions to find images for what was otherwise intangible: atomic forces or 6 “crises of the spirit”(169). The explosion of the atomic bomb changed everything, however, because suddenly the invisible world of the advanced scientist is terrifyingly apparent, and so are the crises of moral judgement and potential mass destruction that accompanied the technical achievement of the atomic bomb. She was prescient. Physics came to dominate public perception of science, and to consume the lion‟s share of government spending for more than two decades until gradually displaced by molecular biology and its researches into the genetic code. Concepts, images, paradigms of inquiry, and histories of discovery from each science respectively found their way into popular culture and the poetics of writing. The most significant influence on the arts has been the underlying model of the unseen world offered by these two iconic sciences. Nuclear physics presents a world in which a limited number of supersensory entities acted upon by a small number of forces combine according to mathematically formulable laws to create the entire material universe. Invisibly tiny building blocks acted upon by forces whose source is unknown provide a powerful image of knowledge. Genetics research described the workings of the complex structures in the chromosomes that tell living cells how to reproduce themselves and grow the different cells needed for a complete organism with increasingly linguistic metaphors—code, language, commas, transcription and so forth. Life itself was the result of a special language and its clever combinations and recombinations. Was that an interruption? The following section of The Cell can be contrasted with the work of earlier poets who have also explored subjectivity through introspection such as Robert Creeley: On what do the eyes 7 finally come to rest Sentences that hang the face The eyes winching their things Quietly to what The body is bent to speak of thoughts changing into new forms Many thoughts are of no things November 15, 1987 This poem especially stands comparison with Robert Creeley's poems about the instabilities of thought. In his poem 'I Keep to Myself Such Measures'iv a similar sense of flux and uncentred subjectivity is narrated in a mildly ironic mode as a self-description of an internal drama contained by the poem. Hejinian's poem allows no such parallel narration of a self other than the self doing the narrating. The Creeley poem presupposes an already completed representation, whereas Hejinian's poem is entirely inside the hanging sentences, with all the threat of demise this pun entails. Her line 'many thoughts are of no things', which challenges the phenomenological claim that thought always has an object, also echoes Creeley's line: 'there is nothing/ but what thinking makes it less tangible'. The two poems agree if read as propositions but Hejinian's line is also an observation at a particular moment and retains that contingency. In the previous poem she apparently contradictorily writes: 'One cannot introspect except with/ respect to something'(114). 8 Is this the fallacy of imitative critical form? When she collected her essays on poetry and poetics under the title The Language of Inquiry, she made explicit what had been coming into focus for the past two decades amongst these poets. This is a poetics of inquiry. Investigation, research, analysis, discovery, observation, reflection and other forms of intellectual curiosity are all relevant as long as they recognize the primacy of the signifier. Her introductory essay carefully avoids prescriptive definitions of inquiry as it distinguishes poetic inquiry from something that sounds like the phenomenology of the earlier generation, as well as conventional natural science: Poetry comes to know that things are. But this is not knowledge in the strictest sense; it is, rather, acknowledgement—and that constitutes a sort of unknowing. To know that things are is not to know what they are, and to know that without what is to know otherness (i.e., the unknown and perhaps unknowable). Poetry undertakes acknowledgement as a preservation of otherness—a notion that can be offered in a political, as well as an epistemological, context. This acknowledging is a process, not a definitive act; it is an inquiry, a thinking on. And it is a process in and of language, whose most complex, swift, and subtle forms are to be found in poetry—which is to say in poetic language (whether it occurs in passages of verse or prose). The language of poetry is a language of inquiry, not the language of a genre. It is that language in which a writer (or reader) both perceives and is conscious of the perception. Poetry, 9 therefore, takes as its premise that language is a medium for experiencing experience. Poetic language is also a language of improvisation and intention. The intention provides the field for inquiry and improvisation is the means of inquiring. Her use of the word “language” in the statement that “the language of poetry is the language of inquiry” is deliberately ambiguous, meaning both metaphorically that the aims and behaviour of poetry are those of research, and literally that the actual language used in the performance of the poem is the medium of this investigation. I wrote this last week believing every word and now I am reading these sentences and my thoughts are on a jaunt. What is entailed by listening to this? The New Sentence is dependent on readerly understanding, referentially impoverished, shorter than expression, and aging faster than slang. Where did Hejinian and her generation obtain their ideas of science? For the New American Poets the big scientific story was the hydrogen bomb and the quantum physics that made it possible. For the Language Poets it was a culminating development in molecular biology widely reported in the press in the mid nineteen seventies that would give further support to their structuralist poetics and politics, and make the idea of carrying out surgical transformations of sentences compelling. Two Californian scientists, Herbert Boyer and Stanley Cohen, combined their specialisms around 1973 to create the techniques that have made the mapping of genomes possible.v With the use of DNA ligase, whose enzymatic action of reconnection might glue together new combinations of genes, Boyer 10 and Cohen believed they had the capacity to “cut, paste, and copy” genetic information (in the words of James Watson‟s account whose anachronistic use of the terminology of word-processing is revealing). The nobel prize-winning biologist David Baltimore said that “it was the beginning of the industrial application of modern biology, medical application of modern biology, and the real revolution in the concept of what you could learn from it.”(111)Many scientists were alarmed when they learned of the breakthrough, fearing that this might lead, even inadvertently, to the creation of monstrous and unstoppable diseases, since most DNA research was carried out with bacteria and viruses.vi The gene cloning debate spilled over into the mass media and left a strong impression that the new biology was both powerful enough to take over the role previously assigned to a deity or natural selection, and so dangerous that it was, again in Baltimore‟s words, “commonly analogous to the atomic bomb.”(112) The controversy first became highly visible at a conference held at Asilomar (near Pacific Grove on the Monterey Peninsula) in February 1975, to which almost every significant scientist in the field was invited, as well as the press. Rolling Stone covered the event and produced a remarkably thorough account of the discussions of the way researchers could now isolate small elements of “genetic information” (30) Its title, “The Pandora‟s Box Congress: 140 Scientists Ask: Now that We Can Rewrite the genetic Code What Are We Going To Say?”, is probably the most striking feature of the article, because it makes explicit in the humour of the question, just how productive the metaphorics of this recombinant DNA technology might turn out to be. The biologist and historian of science Horace Freeland Judson wrote in Nature in 2001 that “the language we use about genetics and the genome project at times limits and 11 distorts our own understanding, and the public understanding.” (769) The successes of molecular biology combined with the information theory of the fifties and the structuralist linguistics of the sixties to create an intellectual paradigm, the idea that one could study the generation of sentences as a way in to understanding. Although there is an interesting analogy between the New Sentence and Recombinant DNA technology, my point is that the new science was a model for a new method of enquiry. Any enquiry into the fundamentals of how language works to create shared ideological realities might want to emulate the scientific enquiry. Added to this, the recent fierce controversies amongst structuralists would have already created a promising field of exploration. My Life was one result. Hejinian‟s paired meanings reproduce the doubling of the earlier argument in Mirage, both venturing the bold suggestion that this poetry is as deserving to be called scientific as conventional forms of science, and holding back from such a claim, knowing that it is unlikely to be conceded by any but other poets and certainly not by the dominant orthodoxy, by making the more modest proposition that poets explore language by writing poems in which it is put to the test. Air conditioning rumble is always with us in the contemporary world. Throughout this passage she deftly uses phrases to describe her poetics that are also idiomatically associated with science. “Knowledge in the strictest sense” belongs primarily to the sciences that try to understand what constitutes the material world, and therefore share with poets an interest in some forms of the unknown. The natural sciences place a very high value on acknowledgement or observation. This 12 this or that this you decide. Laboratory research requires of its proponents the highest commitment to the acknowledgement of what happens during experiments, and much of the infrastructure of the sciences, the lab notebooks, the records, the peer-reviewed reports, and the entire discourse within which these are carried out, is an apparatus for sustaining accurate acknowledgement. The David Baltimore case in which government investigators tried to find notebook evidence of cheating shows how important this is and how irrelevant. Such virtues are central to field work which begins with highly attentive surveying, unearthing, recognition, and analysis of the “otherness” of what occurs in a specific location. The other work performed by this passage is a disengagement from any suspicion that such poetry relies on “the language of genre;” Language Writing is not generated within the parameters of a genre whose defining characteristics (whatever they might be—a formalism such as the “new sentence” for example) are the generative matrices of what is possible. When I first read Language Writing I thought I was missing the semantic pattern, seeing only unconnectable fragments. She worked as a private eye. Her poetry, and Language Writing, is instead turned outwards to the contingent world as the sciences are, not inwards to the task of fulfilling a given heuristic. She is an exponent of a poetry of inquiry. This can be construed as a metalinguistic act. Hejinian‟s idea of a poetics of inquiry is only unusual in its explicitness, because several of her contemporaries have also indicated that they think of their work as research oriented. What counts as evidence for that? Charles Bernstein says: “it is just my insistence that poetry be understood as epistemological / inquiry” as long as it also understood that meaning in poetry is much 13 more than a “recuperable intention or / purpose.”(A Poetics, 17) His saying is not a speaking. Barrett Watten recounts the writing of his poem “Artifacts” as an argument with scientific methodologies: “ Crucial to the writing of the poem was a typical experience of different languages in conflict within a seemingly unified method—in this case, that of a linguist trained in logical models for syntax who became interested in the problem of poetic language. Wild artifacts of method resulted from the radical divergence of at least two languages—and this question of the method of science, or of „objective‟ representation in general, inspired the mode of organization of the poem.vii His experimentalism is marooned in real time. Susan Howe recounts a visit to an abandoned modernist grain elevator on the shore of Lake Erie where she and friends took a visiting French poet and they “tested the acoustics with whispers, shouts, knocking and banging.” (139 Midnight). Jena Osman‟s An Essay In Asterisks emulates the scientific textbook with questions, worked examples, diagrams and corrections that explicitly invite the reader to participate and then reveal that participation as similar to the participation required by the state. A multiple choice section follows a short lyrical passage ending with the phrase “the pauses”, asking: “in the above, PAUSE means / a) air b) ere c)heir d)err.” There is no singular answer. Her text experiments with experiment. The “knowledge in the strictest sense” of Hejinian‟s discussion of her “language of inquiry” belongs primarily to the sciences that do aim to know what constitutes the world, and therefore share this interest in the unknown that she attributes to poetry. 14 Without naming the sciences, Hejinian is positioning poetry close to them. Scientific field work depends on records of careful observation at a specific site and on laboratory research set down in lab notebooks. Much of the infrastructure of the sciences, the peerreviewed reports, and the entire discourse within which these are carried out, is an apparatus for sustaining accurate acknowledgement. But Hejinian does make a crucial implicit distinction between poetic observation and other kinds, by qualifying her description with the point that “this acknowledging is a process, not a definitive act.” Scientific reports do aim to be definitive, even though they rarely attain this, and even if they achieve an approximation, the definitive statement of today becomes the only partially correct finding in the light of tomorrow‟s research. While subtly positioning this mode of poetry close to science, she also separates it from what she calls “the language of genre.” At this point she is as close to being prescriptive as she allows herself, because she wants to avoid the implication that Language Writing is a mode of poetry dependent on a choice of style or formal structure. The New Sentence is a testbed not a fashion. Her poetry is turned outwards as the sciences are, not inwards to the fulfilment of a given heuristic. Critical commentary is promulgation. Hejinian‟s uneasy mix of tentativeness, dogmatism, abstraction, and generalisation is a sign of just how difficult it is to articulate the fundamental point that poetry can be a primary activity rather than repeating existing knowledge and beliefs. It is a difficulty that has two sources: the enormous prestige of modern science as the only serious paradigm of intellectual inquiry; and the lack of any developed poetics, critical discourse or literary theory of the significance of inquiry for 15 the practice of poets and readers. The cultural work of inquiry is expected to be done by science not poetry. Writing in the nineteen-sixties, the philosopher Israel Scheffler calls his “philosophical studies in the theory of science” The Anatomy of Inquiry (the description in quotation marks is actually its subtitle), because he takes for granted that his readers will asume that inquiry is best carried out by scientists. Poetry would appear to suffer. As Scheffler says in the opening of his preface: “Science explains particulars by bringing them within the scope of appropriate general principles. Principles are explanatory only if they are intelligible, and scientific only if they can be confronted with experience.” (Scheffler, vii). Since the time when he published his study, scientists and philosophers of science have become more cautious in their use of terms such as inquiry, discovery, method, realism, experiment, and other basic constituents of scientific theories and practices, but they still identify science with these virtues. The neuroscientist Steven Rose opens his account of the contribution that neuroscience has made to the understanding of memory with an explicit statement of what he believes to be the core of scientific method that is noticeably more cautious than Schaffler‟s: But when I talk about „the methods of science‟ in this somewhat formal way I certainly don‟t mean „the methods of nineteenth-century physics‟ as if there were only one science—as if a slightly old-fashioned view of physics, actively propagated by traditional philosophers of science and virtually all school teaching, was what every different science—from chemistry to psychology and economics—aimed to become. What I mean by science is something a good deal broader and less restrictive; a commitment to a unitary, materialist view of the 16 world, a world capable of exploration by methods of rational enquiry and experiment.(Rose, 4) Waterfalls, lovers and flowers are as curious as scientists about the world around them. Scientists themselves often eschew deeper reflections on the metaphysics or sociology of their practice. Asked about the significance of his discovery of reverse transcriptase for what President Nixon called the “war on cancer,” he said: “My life is dedicated to increasing knowledge. We need no more justification for scientific research than that. My motivating force is not that I will find a „cure‟ for cancer. There may never be a cure as such. I work because I want to understand.”(Crotty, 81) Each of these statements about science has distinct resonances with Hejinian‟s account of the poetics of inquiry, even though there are important differences. Riparian landscapes on the opposite shore from rational scientific discourse wary of homogenised nutrition. Language is the medium of investigation. What does “medium” mean here? Hejinian says in her own words that when “poetic language puts into play the widest possible array of logics” these may include “logics of irrationality, impossibility, and a logic of infinite speed”. And yet although this advocacy of the irrational would seem counter to the “rational enquiry” mentioned by Rose, some philosophers of science, notably Feyerabend, have argued something very similar about the imaginative processes which make scientific inquiry possible. He infamously said that in the discovery process “anything goes”, even irrational speculations, if it helps further the process of understanding. Does it go I wonder. 17 Inquiry is a broad term, it can refer to sociological or historical research, it can refer to legal and political processes whereby an agreed knowledge of recent events is established, and probably be used to describe any form of academic research in the arts and humanities. Science is only one form of inquiry. What changed quite radically in the second half of the twentieth century was the status of scientific methods of inquiry as the only accepted measures against which other forms of inquiry would be judged. Discussions of method in recent literary and cultural theory show the impact of science everywhere on their practice. Some leading theorists such as Deleuze or Kristeva constantly make use of concepts with a direct scientific resonance. At the very beginning of On Grammatology, Jacques Derrida establishes the scope of the concept of writing by surveying its uses amongst others, by the biologist, “who speaks of writing and pro-gram in relation to the most elementary processes of information in the living cell” (Grammatology, 9). Throughout the Grammatology, science hovers in the background as the institutionalisation of a method derived from a philosophy that has turned away from poetry to prose (a “depoetizing formalization”(285)), that treats its objects as “selfpresent substance” (97), and is committed to the ideal of “truth as a theoretically infinite transmissibility”. As several commentators have noticed, Derrida‟s rhetoric of the “supplement” (neither a presence nor an absence. No ontology can think its operation”) owes an intellectual debt to the struggle of phyicists to conceptualise wave-particle operations as complementarity. Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari‟s enormously influential concept of the rhizome is presented as if it emerges from the science of natural processes, plant systems, animal colonies, and DNA replication. No wonder it was seemingly easy for Allan Sokal and Jean Bricmont to find what they call “intellectual 18 impostures” in literary and cultural theory. The writers that Sokal and Bricmont try to expose are theorists who constantly develop analogies, metaphors and more rarely causal arguments from contemporary science and mathematics. The alleged flaws in their reasoning are sometimes superficial and sometimes egregious, but as their disappointing treatment of Deleuze demonstrates, these critics don‟t have any way of analysing the validity of dense playfulness evident in his discourse other than calling it “nonsense”. Most literature is nonsense if measured against the highest accuracy of current scientific knowledge. Sometimes these theorists are borrowing authority with the jargon, and sometimes they are contesting that authority. Sokal and Bricmont convict Kristeva of using ideas from set theory incorrectly, but then quote a footnote of hers from Semiotike: “Let us emphasize that the introduction of notions from set theory in an analysis of poetic language is only metaphorical: it is possible because an analogy can be established between the relations Aristotelian logic/poetic logic on the one hand, and denumerable/infinite on the other.”(Intellectual Impostures, 41). Although she appears not to understand the concept of cardinality of infinite numbers, this doesn‟t invalidate the rhetorical strategy she is using. James A. Knapp and Jeffrey Pence comment on Sokal‟s hoax that it “points to the lack of a theoretical ground for humanistic study that is not derived from the scientific method.”1 A theoretical ground not derived from scientific method would have to struggle for the authority of knowledge. i Lyn Hejinian, The Language of Inquiry (Berkelely: University of California Press, 2000), 56 ii Lyn Hejinian, Note to „The Person‟, Mirage 3, 1984, p. 24. 1 James A. Knapp and Jeffrey Pence, “Between Thing and Theory”. Poetics Today 24:4, 2003. 641-671, 670. 19 iii.Lyn Hejinian 'The Person', Mirage: The Women's Issue, 1989, p.23. iv.Robert Creeley 'I keep to myself such measures', The Collected Poems of Robert Creeley 1945-1975, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1982, p.297. v James D. Watson with Andrew Berrry, DNA: The Secret of Life (London: William Heinemann, 2003), 91. vi In December 1980 they applied for a patent for this process which “provides a convenient and efficient way to introduce genetic capability into microorganisms for the production of nucleic acids and proteins, such as medically or commercially useful enzymes, which may have direct usefulness, or may find expression in the production of drugs, such as hormones, antibiotics, or the like, fixation of nitrogen, fermentation, utilization of specific feedstocks, or the like.” from United States Patent 4,237,224. James D. Watson and John Tooze, The DNA Story: A Documentary History of Gene Cloning (San Francisco: W.H. Freeman and Co., 1981), 513. vii Barrett Watten, Total Syntax (Carbondale, Ill.: Southern Illinois University Press, 1985), 222.