ManTissa

Today I’m going to write about Mantissa. My favorite part of the book was in section two when Erato gains creative control of the story after Miles tried to humiliate her with his knowledge of literary theory;

“You can’t do this!”

Very slowly her head comes up.

“No Miles.”

“I’m in charge here.”

“Yes, Miles.”

“If you think anyone would believe this for a millionth of a second… I order you to replace that door.’ Her only answer is to recline against the pillows. ‘Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yes, Miles. I’m very stupid, but I have perfect hearing.”

“Then do what you’re told.”

Like I said in class, I found Mantissa to be a lot like that old Looney Tunes cartoon Duck Amuck in which Daffy Duck has conflicting interests with the author of the text. I also like it because in both the cartoon and Mantissaa the characters are self aware that they are in story. Anyways, this dialogue happens right after Miles Green finds that the door to his hospital room (which is the inside of his brain, which he arguable can’t leave anyways, but that’s a point for another post) missing because he took away the authority of the author function, which he had. As the author of his own text, he could create things like the ashtray and the purple bathrobe, but as soon as Miles and Erato seem to be on civil speaking terms, one of them messes up again. As soon as Miles manages to at least pretend to respect Erato, he starts going on about literary theories and how smart and smug he is. Erato sits patiently playing dumb as Miles digs his own grave, not realizing that the methodic rational way in which he explains his points doesn’t make up for the fact that the content of said points is undermining his ability to be in charge of his own story. Miles can’t go on about how traditional literary studies for over two thousand years are completely wrong and how the author and the text have no relation to one another anymore and that there isn’t even any point to writing serious fiction other than to prove how useless it is to even try without completely screwing himself over. He can’t have his cake and eat it too. Erato sits patiently as the power of the author is destroyed and the power of the reader is put into her hands, giving her the ability to remove Miles’ door, clothes, and self confidence.

I am presenting tomorrow on Mantissa with Max about Mantissa and feminism, and so far I have brought up one of those things. I feel that there is a ton of material through which one can do a feminist reading of Mantissa, and there is enough good evidence to prove that Mantissa is an anti-feminist text. A lot of what Max and I talked about focused around whether or not Erato existed outside of Miles Green, which as a muse/inspiration she of course does, but she is only the version of Erato to Miles, for Miles. At the end of the book when Erato returns to her shape as Dr. Delfie, it could be argued that this is the form that she takes when Miles is out of the picture, this is her true form, uncompromised by what Miles consciously wills her to be. On the other hand, Miles is still in the picture, he is merely unconscious, and perhaps this is the Dr. Delfie of his unconscious, affecting him in unknown unknowable Lacanian psychoanalytic ways. But now I’m talking about Lacan, not feminism. Oh well, I guess you’ll just have to come to class tomorrow to hear what I’ve got to say about that.