In
the closing portion of The Arcades
Project, Walter Benjamin both defines the cause of the
dominating feelings of alienation and isolation suffocating Paris in the latter
half of the 19th-century and provides a remedy for both abating said
discomforts and finding hope in a dreary and decrepit environment. Whereas in
the first portion of the Arcades Project he introduces the endemic
afflictions without providing either a Patient Zero or root cause, Benjamin
uses the second half of his work to declare this origin as a sense of idleness
created by the increased industrial and technological capacities indicative of
a commercial epicenter. Heavily influenced by Marx, Benjamin explains that the
modern city’s technology and industry perpetually simplifies our daily routine
until we are mechanical automatons desperately searching for purpose in the
scant hours not devoted to production.
Benjamin
indentifies a crucial form of Marxist isolation: the conversion of labor into
capital. Coupled with the aforementioned isolationist motif of the division of
labor in the earlier portion of The Arcades Project, Marx explains the
conversion of our labor into capital further removes us from our humanity and slowly
changes us into automatons. Summarizing one of Marx’s observations of
capitalism, Benjamin states, “With the purchasing power given to him in the
form of a salary, the worker can purchase only a certain amount of goods, whose
production required just a fraction of the labor he himself provided”[1].
Marx’s worker will never “break even” with his investment of labor. No matter
how much labor he invests into the system, he will never receive the
appropriate retribution. Sadly, he has no choice but to continue to
disproportionately exchange his labor for capital if he hopes to sustain
himself in a capitalist economy. Marx further explains, “The existence of
capital is his existence…since it determines the tenor of his life in a
manner indifferent to him. Production…produces man as a…dehumanized being”[2].
Benjamin’s
believes this dehumanization is an evitable consequence of progress. In his
opinion, the industrial revolution forced Paris’ economy to grow so rapidly,
its attention was focused on production and not the individual. For example,
the construction of the railroads increased production capability
exponentially. Prior to the proliferation of rapid, affordable
mass-transportation, factory owners could manage their capital and labor force
by themselves thus providing a slight degree for a possession of labor;
however, the railroads soon “had the need of such massive amounts of capital
that it could no longer be concentrated in the hands of only a few individuals.
And so a great many bourgeois were forced to entrust their funds, which had
never before been allowed out of their sight, to people whose names they hardly
knew”[3].
With a large populous forced to seek employment in the factories, massive access
to natural resources, and a newly established transportation network, Paris’
economy grew at a velocity that obliterated man’s every option save to
accommodate its expansion. The inexhaustible supply of labor yielded
unimaginable profits for the bourgeois factory owners who in turn enslaved their
labor force through the means of providing goods costing a disproportionate price
to the demanded labor investment in order to ensure subservience.
Soon,
the city itself began to reflect the disregard for humanity in exchange for
more efficient means of production. For example, stores began to employ the use
of mannequins to increase the sales of clothing. Out of fear for directing
attention to anything but the merchandise, shop owners elected to use “female
busts without heads or legs, with curtain hooks in the place of arms and a
percaline skin of arbitrary hue- bean brown, glaring pink, hard black- [that
were] lined up like a row of onions, impaled on rods, or set out on tables”[4]
as opposed to a more realistic model. Not only did the shop owners elect to
focus on the consumption of goods as opposed to the accurate depiction of the interaction
between their product and humanity, the crowd itself approved of the removal of
the human form in exchange for showcasing the industrial product in order to facilitate
the refinement of the efficiency of the capitalist system.
While
the aforementioned example is one of an infinite multitude, Marx identifies the
greatest contributor to idleness and alienation: synchronization. If a
capitalist system is to be efficient, it forces all other schedules to evolve
into their most efficient form all the while ignoring both the second-order
effects of their conversions and the agendas of those affected by the schedule.
In fact, Marx informs us that, “The clock was the first automatic device
applied to practical purposes; the whole theory of production of regular motion
was deployed through it”[5].
Our itineraries are subordinate to that of the collective whole. For example,
you might be out of luck if you want to take a train at three in the morning
from Topeka, Kansas to Ontario, Canada. It is not efficient to construct the
necessary track and provide a train specifically intended to accommodate your
travel plans. In stead, you must travel to several locations at times contrary
to your choosing if you one-day hope to travel from Topeka to Ontario.
Benjamin
using an unlikely example to demonstrate the forced synchronization in a city:
prostitution. As Paris continued to develop its economy, even vice began to
maximize its efficiency. For example, a clinic on Rue de Jerusalem would set
aside one day a month to treat prostitutes’ venereal diseases for free. Oddly
enough, one always found “the approaches to the station overrun by a large
number of men awaiting the appearance of these unhappy creatures knowing, as
they do, that those who leave by the dispensary have been deemed healthy”[6].
Furthermore, Benjamin states that the Parisian police of the 19th-century
continued to notice an increase in debauchery prior to the following holidays:
New Year’s Day, the Feast of Kings and festivals of the Virgin. Why? “Because
girls,” explains F.F.A. Beraud, “like to give and receive presents or to offer
beautiful bouquets; they also want a new dress for themselves, or a hat in the
newest faction, and, lacking the appropriate means…turn to prostitution”[7].
Clearly, Benjamin identifies human behavior, in this case soliciting
prostitutes, independently adjusting its timeline to coincide with the
established, efficient approved by capitalism.
When a system
maximizes its efficiency, components not required for a specific purpose at a
specific time are ignored while the system directs its attention to the
appropriate resources and apparatuses. Accordingly, that which is not required
by the system has nothing to do. Benjamin identifies that once urban denizen
completed his labor for the day, one found that he had very little to do. Every
aspect of life was becoming more efficient and thus required less and less
attention and labor. Naturally, Benjamin states that people eventually became
very bored and idle. Differently put, he states, “When all lines of are broken
and no sail appears on the blank horizon, when no wave of immediate experience
surges and crests, then there remains to the isolated subject in the grip of taedium
vitae one last thing- and that is empathy”[8].
The empathy eventually perpetuates the notion of solitude. In other words,
after working 10-12 hours at a job requiring only the most elementary,
efficient movements repeated thousands of times, one comes home to an
environment so efficient and advanced, he has very little to do outside of
sleeping and eating to maintain his existence. His whole life revolves around
sustaining himself to work in the factory. Nothing else matters. Thus, when one
is not at the factory, he feels agitated while he impatiently awaits for the hour
during which he will once again become useful to the city.
The idle
components of the city’s machine soon begin to look for ways to make the vacant
hours pleasurable before they are called to resume their labor. Corresponding
to a previously identified yearning to break the perpetual monotony, Benjamin
believes people search for a reliable source of shock effect: gambling. Eduard
Gourdon claims, “I submit that the passion for gambling is the noblest of all
passions because it comprehends all others. A series of lucky rolls gives me
more pleasure than a man who does not gamble can have over the period of
several years”[9]. Why is
gambling so exciting? How are we able to glean such pleasure from gains of
chance? Benjamin explains that it is one of the few mechanical processes that
allows destiny to control one’s schedule as opposed to means of production
dictating what we do at a certain time. Anatole France states that gambling
produces in a single second the same changes “that Destiny ordinarily effects
only in the course of many hours or even many years”[10].
Each hand is, as Alain explains, “independent of the one preceding…Gambling
strenuously denies all acquired conditions, all antecedents…pointing to
previous actions; and that is what distinguishes it from work”[11].
While the green felt still demands mechanical
repetitions such as the rolling of dice or placing a bet, we are unaware of
what Fate has in store for us in the hand to come. This excitement sharply
contrasts with a factory worker who knows exactly what is moving down the
conveyor belt to his workstation. Instead, the gambler waits for Fate to shock
him from omnipresent senses of malaise and route with either outrageous fortune
or crushing failure. Differently stated, gambling offers the opportunity to
perceive one’s surroundings as an environment governed by random chance as
opposed to a structured production schedule. Albeit it being temporary,
gambling liberates us from the monotonous pattern of life mandated by the city.
Gambling,
however, has one distinct drawback: it requires some form of capital if one
wishes to partake. And, mathematically speaking, one will eventually run out of
money while playing games in which the odds favor “The House”. Accordingly,
Benjamin identifies another approach to filling idle hours: flânerie. By
strolling the city streets and observing both the crowd and one’s surroundings,
Benjamin feels that one is able to gain an acute level of clarity that enables
him to break the obfuscation of reality mandated by a system demanding its
workers focus only on facilitating a maximum level of production. Instead of a
Gordian Knot of streets, filth, and an unending stream of humanity flowing
along the sidewalks, Benjamin feels that flânerie allows one to “transform
Paris into one great interior- a house whose rooms are the quarters, no less clearly demarcated by thresholds than are real
rooms”[12]. Where gambling temporarily alleviates us from boredom,
flânerie permanently dissipates the feeling of isolation and universally
connects one with his surroundings. As Baudelaire states, flânerie empowers one
to “be at home, yet to feel oneself everywhere at home; to see the world, to be
the center of the world”[13].
While one may have difficulty correlating aimless wandering to the defeat of isolation,
Benjamin quickly dissuades any doubt in flânerie’s ability to remedy our
discomfort. “Flânerie,” he explains, “is the demonstration against the division
of labor”[14]. The city is an unexplored labyrinth and offers a person a
unique opportunity: to apply labor of his choosing solely dedicated to help him
understand his surroundings. No one can help the flânuer understand a city; he
is unable to delegate portions of his task to another and must do everything
himself. For once, our understanding of our surroundings is our own. By
separating ourselves from the crowd and viewing the city a whole entity as
opposed to an infinite number of separate components, we are able to rebuke the
city’s demand that we must accept alienation and confusion as terms of our
existence within its urban limits.
While the
city never allows us the opportunity to truly liberate ourselves from monotony,
we are afforded the luxury for minor rebellions. Benjamin feels the best way to
confront the city’s imposition of its will upon ourselves is to view it as a
singular, collective entity instead of a billion different pieces. This
holistic approach allows us to achieve a higher understanding compared to what
we would gain by examining each component. For example, we can identify a car
as exactly what it is and understand its purpose. However, if you remove its
rear differential or a single piston rod and try to gain a total understanding
of their purposes and how they relate to the entire car, you would more than
likely become confused. As you continued to dissemble the car piece by piece,
you would eventually become frustrated. When you are frustrated for an extended
period of time, you become apathetic and stop caring about the cost of
resembling the car as long as it retains a form once familiar to you. Once the
mountain of separate pieces once again become a car, you can’t help but feel a
sense of relief knowing that you are able to understand what you are looking
at. For when you fully understand something, it is very difficult for that
object to maintain absolute control over you.
[1] Walter
Benjamin, The Arcades Project, trans.
Howard Eiland and Kevin McLaughlin (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard
University Press), 651.
[2] 652
[3] 577
[4] Ibid., 694.
[5] Ibid., 695.
[6] Ibid., 501.
[7] Ibid., 501.
[8] Ibid., 805.
[9] Ibid., 495.
[10] Ibid., 498.
[11] Ibid., 512.
[12] Ibid., 422.
[13] Ibid., 443.
[14] Ibid.,427.
Can't read the last part of the post -- it's looking like black text on black. But the first part of this post is spot on -- you've isolated & summarized a very important aspect of Benjamin's (and Marx's) thinking re: the modern city. You could draw on what you say here confidently in any future essay -- as in fact you do in later blog posts, as you talk more about time's passage, labor, synchronization, and the efficient functioning of the modern city. Notice, though, that in later posts you also begin to talk about a way in which people in modernist fiction seem to push back against the homogenization of the lifeworld that capitalism seems to demand, namely, a display of personal agency & an assertion of one's uniqueness via the collection, possession, and display of objects with personal & sentimental significance. If capitalism pushes to turn everything into a commodity that can be traded on the market, these individuals respond by lending /particular/ significance to objects that would never matter in a market economy. So what if this knife reminds you of your time in India? On e-bay it matters whether the knife has a sharp blade. Well, I don't want to put words in your mouth, but it seems to me that your blog as a whole is pushing you to think about these issues, depersonalization, on the one hand, and "repersonalization," the attribution of subjective meaning to the things that surround us.
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