“afternoon,” the concept of closure and Joyce’s notions of hypertext

It was not simply the lack of multimedia present in “afternoon,” as opposed to that in “Hegirascope” which I found somewhat irritating while reading “afternoon.” Yes, I found it bothersome that the screen was comprised largely of white space with some black text at the top and there was very little to aesthetically stimulate the reader. However, unlike in other hypertexts we have read, I found myself thinking more and more about “closure” and realizing that there were several fragments of “afternoon” which I found to be very eloquent, provocative, and led me to want to read into the particular fragment more. In general, this did not seem possible, as the reader chooses to focus on a specific word or link that leads to another fragment or simply press the return key, from whence the reader is thrown into the proverbial cold water of attempting to decipher a new text.

Relatively early on, I resigned myself to the fact that I would have some level of difficulty understanding the various voices, narrators, ‘he’s and ‘she’s, as well as the relationships between the characters. My attempts proved futile, even after exploring the text for extended periods of time, and even after returning to the text following a break from it. Nonetheless, I found much of the dialogue intriguing, as well as the narrator’s descriptions of places. [4 what I see] paints a picture of glinting glass where, ostensibly, a car accident occurred. I am left with the image of gurneys leading up to a place where bodies lay, and then, wanting to know more, I am inevitably swept away into other dimensions of “afternoon.”

While there were moments when I felt connections between story fragments, they were few and far between. Some of these threads lead to “endings,” but they are cliff-hanger endings, such as [I call], in which the narrator takes a pill and calls Lolly. One cannot enter the return key any longer. I can still navigate away from the page by clicking on the links button, but it does not alleviate the tension many of these fragments precipitated for me.

I’d rather not argue whether or not “closure” factors into “afternoon” so much as it simply provided an unsatisfactory reading experience for me in that I wanted to know more about several things and find a sense of resolve somewhere in the story. One of the speakers in [*me] asserts that “I’m not sure that I have a story,” which I found interesting. It led me to deeper questions about the text and what Joyce’s intentions in creating it were. In the interview provided in the instructions, Joyce mentions the “music of the word within our story spaces.” Given the interesting dynamics between the speakers and the diligent care evidently used in word choices, the concept of the “music” of the text certainly resonated with me. The music of the text in “afternoon,” I felt, was key to its value, at least in my interpretation of reading through it.

Additionally, Joyce refers to the transcendental nature of hypertext as opposed to traditional print text. Although I cannot say I had a “transcendental” experience while reading “afternoon,” I can understand why one might, perhaps, in that one explores a completely new set of pathways that don’t resemble the linear paths of print texts. It is a structural maze within which one can get lost in a way that may be satisfying for some.

Ultimately, after pondering the idea of “closure” as it pertains to “afternoon,” I heeded my convictions of considering its value as a musical, or lyrical, text. I lingered over well-chosen words and well-written phrases, points of interest and tension, intriguing dialogue, and so on. This greatly helped me to more deeply appreciate the text.

Blog #3: Photopia

Eventually, I came to a dead end in Photopia after spending about 45 minutes to an hour playing around with it. However, after becoming accustomed to what commands the program could process, it became a relatively easy process overall to navigate through Photopia. I enjoyed the fact that I played a relatively passive role in my outcome—I was more focused on exploring each scenario as much as possible, making the program less plot-based and more interactive in the sense that I had the illusion of choice-making. As the person interacting with the text, I was able to “explore the field of the possible” (211) as Marie-Laure Ryan discusses. By typing commands such as “listen,” “go north,” “examine ____,” et al, I felt included in the reading of a story, and I was allowed to make choices in terms of the order in which I learned elements of the story.

I feel that Ryan would place Photopia in the category of “electronic, interactive, nonergodic texts” (209), because of the inevitable outcomes of the various scenarios presented, though the allowance exists for the reader to make certain choices in the ways in which these scenarios unfold.

I am curious about the intentions of the author, however, due to the abrupt changes in plot lines. A screen will appear with a block of color that is somehow related to the story to come. For example, an all-black screen with a yellow bar that reads “gold” proceeds to lead into a story where the landscape is a shore with golden sand. Perhaps it is as simple as the author wanting to create a distinct barrier between each differing story line.

I understand that Krisztian felt that there was something left to be desired in Photopia, although I am a novice to almost all interactive text and enjoyed many of the elementary aspects of the program. However, I was deeply unimpressed by the lack of graphics and visual stimuli. In MBCBFTW, though I was disinterested in the story itself, I felt that it was greatly enhanced by the multimedia incorporated into the text.

Photopia does not seem to lend itself to a deep level of interpretation, especially since it seems intended for a younger audience. I felt that this was indicated by the fact that several words were defined for the reader of the text. Additionally, there’s very little that’s aesthetically stimulating about Photopia, as I mentioned earlier. It is an extremely simple, straight-forward presentation of text, with the only added creativity being the incorporation of different color schemes. It was almost like reading a book online (though one is able to interact with it personally) due to the large amount of narrative that will frequently pop up after a user command. The program also seems to act as a rudimentary video game, with the user collecting an inventory of items, such as a seed pod and a shovel.

Eventually, the game does exhaust its ability to be entertaining. It seems to become repetitive, even as different story plots emerge after “missions” are completed. Each story is a version of another story in which one must gather information, collect additions to one’s inventory, and complete some sort of mission. By the time I had come to a deadlock in the game, I felt like I understood the game well enough to understand its purpose as a source of interactive entertainment, rather than cyber art (i.e. MBCBFTW) or more complex hypertext, such as Hegirascope.

Blog 2: Boyfriend

I felt that “agailes” brought up a point that was at the forefront of my mind while navigating through MBCBFTW, in terms of whether or not Lialina’s piece could be considered “literary.” While I agree that MBCBFTW is certainly more literary than Hegirascope (though I realize that the nature of subjectivity as it relates to discerning what is literary from what is not is certainly up for debate), I saw MBCBFTW mostly as a piece of “cyber art,” so to speak. I did feel that there was some sense of a story being told, even if it was often disjointed and fragmented. To Lialina’s credit, if one is to assume that Lialina presents a literary piece, one might take into account that our sequences of thoughts function, in general, in a nonlinear fashion. The speaker may be intending to show the way our trains of thoughts are typically disjointed, fragmented, and may not appear to have any real pattern, which could potentially be considered as some sort of literary device.

I cannot truthfully say that the piece evoked any emotional response from me. In fact, I found it to be somewhat irritating and boring. Flat, even. Despite the variety of multimedia-related aspects present in the piece (animation, drawings, hyperlinks, and so on), I felt that, because the text itself was pretty one-dimensional, that there was very little to stimulate me in an intellectual sense. It seemed to me that what Lialina was attempting to create art for art’s sake and, while it might be moving and seem innovative to some, it won’t necessarily be received the same way by others, such as myself.

In terms of trying to relate MBCBFTW to the text written by Marie-Laure Ryan, it did occur to me while coursing through Lialina’s piece that there was a particular quality to it that reminded me of walking through a museum. Perhaps this was because of the various forms of multimedia presented. However, it was clear that the person interacting with the piece had to eventually go through each “exhibit” to come to the end. In comparison to Hegirascope, there was clearly less opportunity for the person interacting with the text to make choices about producing different outcomes. However, MBCBFTW had the benefit (as I see it) of ostensibly containing some sort of plot or story. While there appeared to be certain threads which were related to one another in Hegirascope, it was clearly much more randomized than MBCBFTW. I think story and plot were key components to Lialina’s, whereas this was not a concern for the maker of Hegirascope.

While I have lingering questions about Hegirascope, I also have to wonder why Lialina made some of the decisions she did in MBCBFTW. For example, I wonder about Lialina’s intentions in presenting various sequences of “plot” elements, as well as some of the aesthetic choices she presented: the clocks, the Fox television network logo, etc. Why use only black and white? The sparse nature of the story continues to leave something to be desired, at least for me. Perhaps its simplicity allows the story to have more flexibility in terms of the various pieces of the story fitting together in some understandable way. Either way, both texts leave me feeling somewhat lost and curious as to how to interpret the significance of each one.

Reflection

My Boyfriend Came Back From the War is a hypertext that allows the viewer to experience an unfolding drama. It uses nonsequential writing so that the reader may experience the drama in different structures depending on which link they choose and in what order they decide to choose them. The hypertext ranges from black and white images to white on black text which one can only assume are pieces of conversation and thoughts from the assumed narrator. The black and whiteness of the hypertext helps enhance a sense of duality throughout the piece, with the narrator switching between phrases of justification and phrases begging for forgiveness. Although there are many orders in which one may read the hypertext, all readers will obtain the same phrases and images with the completion of the hypertext. This limits the reader’s experience with the text in ways that other hypertexts ( Firefly, Hegirascope) do not. I believe this tends to give the hypertext more meaning and prompts more thought than the randomness that many of the other hypertexts have brought us. I found it much easier to form a constructive opinion with this hypertext than with previous ones.

The author takes a subject that almost every generation can identify with, a woman’s time away from the man she loves while he has gone to war. This hypertext is not as abstract as much of the other hypertexts we have studied. The subject does not leave the reader depending upon his or her own interpretation to gather meaning because it is one that has been brought up time and time again, especially in the present day. As a woman I feel it is especially easy to relate to the speaker of the hypertext in her conflict.

Coherence / Lialina

Focusing on: Can Coherence Be Saved?

An intriguing read, I tend to agree with the author on most of the points expressed in this article.  One theme that is visited repeatedly throughout the text is the idea of hypertext vs. the standard novel.  Will hypertext replace novels in the future?  Games, hypertext and interactive CD-ROMS are given as examples how they compare to a standard novel but also how they will most likely never replace it.

As stated in the text, most readers “read on” to find out what happens next in a novel, moving linearly, page-by-page, the reader knows what to expect at least in terms of context of a novel.  With hypertext and other forms of electronic literature, you have multiple forms as are outlined in the end of the article.  Some forms of electronic literature as defined by hypertext immersion, go way off, leaving the reader lost, which in turn relegates that piece of literature to academic study and not for the masses.  Spatial immersion would seem a better choice giving the reader some context and control over the text itself.  Followed by emotional immersion, which is described allowing the user to choose different outcomes based upon his or her own personal interests.

I have to concur with the conclusion of this piece.  Currently, people usually books when they want to read a story.  I do not believe interactive textuality is quite there yet in terms of it replacing the book to tell a story.  If history to judge, look at the recent products that are best sellers, such as Amazon’s Kindle or Sony’s eBook Reader, these products demonstrate that people still enjoy the concept of a book that can be read linearly.  The next logic step may be to incorporate a type of interactive textuality within the pages of an electronic book; this would help to bridge the gap between a regular novel and selective interactivity.

Focusing on My Boyfriend Came Back from the War:

In Olia Lialina’s My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, the work itself has more context than Hegirascope in that the text and imagery relate to the title of the work.  However, after the first viewing of this site it appears to follow the hypertext immersion model, as one can traverse multiple paths where one can easily get lost.  Like Hegirascope, some paths lead to empty pages such as the following URLs: http://www.teleportacia.org/war/150.htm and http://www.teleportacia.org/war/152.htm.

Unlike Hegirascope, My Boyfriend Came Back from the War seems to differ in a few ways.  First, the work appears to be black and white throughout the entire piece, where Hegirascope was a mixture of colors.  Hegirascope is a simplistic online text in terms of what one can do with HTML.  With My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, it utilizes the characteristics not found in Hegirascope.  First, it used blinking text, where I do not recall seeing in Hegirascope- although I did not traverse every page on Hegirascope.  Second, it uses images where Hegirascope only used text.  Third is the use of frames in addition to allowing the user to traverse further by clicking in the frames themselves.  Hegirascope was a set of standard HTML pages that one could traverse but it did not take advantage of any advanced HTML features.

Hegirascope took a different approach.  There appears to be some sort of randomness accompanied with an automatic meta re-direct to the next page.  Second, in some cases the text is the same color as the background.  Third, the links around the text also seems to change if the same page is re-visited at a later time.  My Boyfriend Came Back from the War is more interactive and coherent than Hegirascope in that the user controls his or her path through the work itself and need not worry about the page changing automatically.

My Boyfriend Came Back from the War – Hypertext as Relevant Art

In My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, Olia Lialina merges visual images and narrative to create a realistic mini drama in hypertext.  The pages/frames are artwork that could stand alone without any text; the text could stand alone as free form poetry.  Lialina’s choice of black and white amplifies the dramatic effect of the work and dually serves to symbolize the tension associated with the words/relationship of the lovers. Although after the third page the reader is offered more choices of links to click, regardless of the order in which they are selected and read, the meaning is the same. Each frame contains a fragment or piece of the narrative.  Linear order is not essential to the meaning.  This hypertext is representative of Marie-Laure Ryan’s jigsaw-puzzle metaphor.  All of the fragments together – visual and text – complete the narrative picture.  Unlike the obscure text of Hegirascope’s, the message of My Boyfriend Came Back from the War is clear.  Anyone who has experienced the changes that result from long term separation from a lover can identify with this interactive narrative.  The fact that the lovers were separated by war adds deeper dimension to the conflict and further magnifies the drama.  The sequence of frames moving from simple to more complex and then to nothingness, visually maps the relationship from the boyfriend’s return until nothing is left.   This is the first hypertext I have experienced that has emotionally moved me.  According to Marie-Laure Ryan, emergent meaning produced through the interaction of the reader with the text that results in an emotional response is called emotional immersion.  I am impressed by Lialina’s hypertext and her ability to emotionally connect with me.  For me, this hypertext is poignant, relevant, and has redeeming value.  My test for good literature: After investing myself and my time, am I a better person?  After reading My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, I can honestly say that my time was well spent.   Olia Lialina passed my good literature test and has dramatically changed my view of hypertext as relevant art.

Hegirascope 2.0

I decided to take the liberty to create a Trailfire trail, for lack of a better term.

This is a link to my main page: http://trailfire.com/vertizontal

This link will take you to the trail page: http://trailfire.com/vertizontal/trailview/65734
Click on the first page listed to get started.

Navigating through Hegirascope was actually a lot easier this way, in retrospect. I actually took the time to think about what I was reading and how it might pertain to an overall message the author could try to convey to the reader. While I am not fully comprehending an overall message or theme, I think the potential is certainly there in some instances. Hegirascope makes many a reference to the Internet, literature, and itself within its vast vault of pages. I find the self references to be the most insightful and funny, too. After reading many passages detailing unnavigable waters and the like, I got the feeling that the author knew what he was getting the reader into and lined Hegirascope with more than a few “I told you so”s. In the end, Hegirascope was a different experience for me and visiting it a couple times was more than enough!

“Hegirascope”: Blog #2

In the early twentieth century, a group of artists in Zurich, Switzerland created an art movement by the name of “Dada” that utilized non-sensical imagery to communicate deeply textural and evocative concepts to a devastated and war-torn society. An admirer of this particular movement, I was initially intrigued by the “Hegirascope”. The mere chaos of it resembled the Dada ideology: because nothing in the world makes sense, neither will the art that attempts to reflect it. However if one pursues a further study of Dadaist pieces, they will find that many of the artistic works have a politically charged undertone to their near unrecognizable form. Therefore, members of the Dada sect did rely on some sort of representational meaning in order to portray an intensely evocative theory on the state of the world after World War I. When I think of “Hegirascope” in these terms, it suddenly doesn’t fit in at all. Although it can be argued that each segment is somewhat representational, the entire piece functions as a disjointed, abstract draft containing a vast variety of miniature plots that dream of assembling into an extended narrative.

Upon closer examination, the “Hegirascope” functioned as a sort of stream of consciousness. At each screen we abandon the center text when we wander to a particular link that had succeeded in distracting us from the central text. In an interesting comparison, Ryan says the text gave her the “impression of a loose collection of drafts and writing samples”. Like Ryan, I imagined that if we were able to break open the mind of a creative writer, the many textual fragments of “Hegirascope” would be what we would find. Each screen contained a cohesive idea, however before one could completely articulate that idea-the screen changed and a new thought was presented. To me, the web engine was a writer’s worst nightmare: capturing a moment to later build on only to lose it to another incoming idea. The “Hegirascope” acted as a controller, choosing when its thoughts were finished and moving onto the next (even if its reader was not ready for the shift).

In class we discussed Marie-Laure Ryan’s interpretative strategies for reading new media texts. Within her framework, I would probably describe “Hegirascope” dually as a “kaleidoscopic performance” piece. The “stories” the “Hegirascope” constructs are all made from the same fragments; however, with each new refraction the evocative meaning of the piece changes and a new narrative mosaic is created. 

Hegirascope Comments

I found the constant changing of screens first a bit irritating as I normally like to control the movement of the text as I read, not have it be changed automatically.  Once I got into the gist of it and kept up reading quickly, it became easier to follow.  Sometimes there are one-two shots where questions are posed or the story is split into two different pieces.

Perhaps I am reading too much into this slide but as soon as the background turned pale and I read desert, I thought of the background as a stand-like environment.  This was probably a coincidence since the backgrounds do not change that often.
http://iat.ubalt.edu/moulthrop/hypertexts/hgs/HGS033.html

After reading this work for about 20-25 minutes and getting the gist of how it was going I then began to interact with it.  After interacting with the text with the text for awhile, it became apparent, one can create a story based upon the four highlighted text words around the piece of text in the middle.  Somehow, I got to an exit point, which is here:
http://iat.ubalt.edu/moulthrop/hypertexts/hgs/HGS144.html

This URL represents an escape from the work itself, and when one goes back to this page a few times, it appears some of the links still exist but they are hidden, so unless you mouse over them you cannot return; however, even when you exit from the work:
http://iat.ubalt.edu/moulthrop/hypertexts/hgs/HGSXX1.html

It still continues after about 30 seconds.  Changing the URL a bit at the end, it reveals that HGS248 appears to be the last slide in the work itself:
http://iat.ubalt.edu/moulthrop/hypertexts/hgs/HGS248.html

Hegirascope – A Virtual Shopping Experience

Having been previously exposed to Hegirascope (by force) through an ENGL 325 recitation, I really wasn’t looking forward to “going to the dentist” again.  Therefore, I set my kitchen timer for exactly 30 minutes and…reluctantly…re-entered the world of this hypertext abyss.  My aversion to this creation stems from the simple fact that I don’t naturally read, think, and respond as fast as Hegirascope requires.  When words are coming and going on a page before I have the chance to read and process their meaning, I feel agitated.  Further, if I can’t make sense of the words I’m reading, the experience is frustrating and meaningless.  This considered, I took Prof. Sample’s advice and chose to enter Hegirascope through the introduction and index option.   I also chose to exercise further control by backspacing if the pages advanced before I was ready.  This helped me immensely and definitely improved the experience.  Backspacing may not be what Stuart Moulthrop had in mind, but it gave me the opportunity to go back, read/re-read pages, and process them on my timeframe, not the program’s.   I wondered if this might be in a sense cheating, but I don’t think so.  The ability to backspace could have been disabled. 

For me, the option of entering Hegirascope through the index had an anxiety reducing effect.  Because the index page is static, it allows the opportunity to peruse the topics and select a link with no time limit.  This entry gives the user some measure of control that the “diving in” option takes away.  After thoughtfully studying the categories, I yielded to temptation and entered Hegirascope through ” ‘ORAL SEX.’ ”  Although I could not find a relationship between the subjects/theme in this link and the topic as I expected it, I’m glad this is where I started.  The first link was Zick.  From “Hey Zick,” again, out of curiosity, I chose the next Zick link.  My course of travel took me to such places as “Shadows,” “Choose Life,” “Spelling of Love,” “LINGERIE,”  and “LOVE IS THE THING WITHOUT STAPLES.”  As I write these names, I realize that I chose titles that intrigued me and placed them in my “grocery cart.”  Marie-Laure Ryan’s metaphor of the “supermarket-shopping experience” was definitely my approach and the one that made me feel the most comfortable with this hypertext.  According to Ryan, “This reader does not feel compelled to read the text in its entirety or to pay attention to every screen, because (s)he sees the text…as a display or resources from which (s)he can freely pick and choose.”  (Marie-Laure Ryan, thank you for validating my approach!)  Ryan further states that for user’s who apply the “super-market shopping” approach, segments are regarded “as a mode of transportation.”  I can definitely identify with Marie-Laure Ryan’s description. 

My slower paced experience with Hegiroscope enabled me to awaken to a possible theme.  Much of Moulthrope’s text seems to relate to the technology of computers, the web, the virtual world, virtual experience, and in general – technology merged or juxtaposed with life experience – all of this in the context of time.  If I didn’t have so much homework, I can honestly say that I would spend more time exploring the hegirasphere and its meaning related to specific aspects of the text that I found intriguing.  In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that there were some pages that made zero sense to me, but for the most part – without too much work/effort – I did see a common thread.

So, my conclusion is that a slower paced hegira-experience was the Novocain I needed.  After my timer beeped and while still numb, I felt brave enough to give “diving in” (minus backspacing) one more try.  In an instant, the familiar agitation returned. I quickly realized that for this procedure, I would probably need laughing gas, too.

 As a footnote, I went back to Hegiroscope this morning to re-create the experience I had last night, but it was impossible.  When I opened “ORAL SEX,” the program did not allow me to take the same path.  When I clicked “Zick,” I got a blank white page.  Refreshing did nothing.  So, it seems that Moulthrop purposely did not want us to have the option of choosing to travel the same path twice.

Reading Hegirascope

Because reading Hegirascope can be a maddening experience, I thought I’d give you some tips.

First, if you’re really confused, take some time to read Stuart Moulthrop’s introduction to the work. But if you’re feeling adventurous, dive right in.

The first couple screens will flash by automatically, but you’ll shortly see a page with several hyperlink choices. Choose whatever you want and keep exploring. Do read carefully what is on the screen and do think about the choices you make. At a minimum, spend at least 30 minutes with Hegirascope.

While you’re reading the work, take note of any individual pages that really interest you. Bookmark them or jot down the URL (just the last part of the URL is all you need, say, HGS084.html).

I’d like each student to come into class on Tuesday with the name and address of three pages from Hegirascope that he or she finds particularly key to the work as a whole. Be prepared to talk about what you think the text on these three pages mean, both literally and evocatively. Also, I want you to think about how the different categories of interactivity that Marie-Laure Ryan writes about in Narrative as Virtual Reality are at play in Hegirascope.