I have just finished re-reading Homi Bhabha’s essay on the ambivalence of colonial discourse. As teachers of literature, we often remark how much more we see in a poem or a novel in further readings. This was certainly true of Bhabha’s essay for me. I saw so much more in it than in previous readings: so much more pretentiousness and vacuity. This kind of prose is really beginning to embarrass me in front of my students.

And here I am, intending to share with them one of the supposedly crucial texts in post-Colonial studies, which turns out to be a piece of gibberish. Consider this gem: “What emerges between mimesis and mimicry is a writing, a mode of representation, that marginalizes the monumentality of history, quite simply mocks its power to be a model, that power which supposedly makes it imitable.” This obnoxiously obfuscatory statement invites multifarious critique: firstly, the spatial metaphor of emerging “between” is entirely devoid of explanatory significance. Secondly, the signification of “writing” is so broad as to be almost meaningless. Thirdly, to blandly equate “writing” with “representation” is to ignore the multifold modes of the representational process. Fourthly, it is utterly unclear what the “monumentality” of history refers to. The word monument has one set of connotations; monumentality has an additional set.


Fifthly, let us turn to the connection between the sentence’s subject and predicate: a mode of representation both places the monumentality of history at the margins and mocks the ability of this mounumentality or history to be a model. In order for marginality to acquire meaning, there must be implied the concept of a centre or mainstream; what is the implied centre which can sustain the marginality of history; to what is it marginal? And how can history be imitable? What does this mean? And of what is it meant to be a model? If this is the kind of prose to which we expose our graduate students, what hope can there be for the future of literary academia?

“Not Quite”
Rafey Habib

Not quite, not white, the cliches
Run down your page: it’s all
There: presence, absence,
Difference everywhere.
If only your words had
Memory of their long, long
Journeys; the discipline to
Talk in civil manner with
One another; if only you
Were trained in some science
Or art, philosophy or law
Or rhetoric; perhaps sat
With truly great books in
Your lap; you might not
Produce such portentous,
Pretentious, crap.