Ektopia: Where No One Lives From the Journals of Lewis and Clarke: Refurences from the 15th of May (2) a large Island to the Starboard; (3) passed a Small Island in the bend to the Starbord, opposit Passage De Soux and with 11/2 miles of the mississippi, observed a number of Gosselins on the edge of the river many passing down, Strong water & wind from the N E- Passed a Place Lbord Called the Plattes, a flat rock projecting from the foot of a hill, where there is a farm, (5) pass an Small Isld near the Center of the river, run on Several logs this after noon, Camped at Mr. Pipers Landing. [Clark, May 15, 1804] May 15th I think the most memorable motto I heard while in Italy was: Tutto in ordine niente a posto. This motto was the product of the Austrian domination which ended in the Risorgimento (1865) when the Austrians were finally thrown out. Its meaning was this: The imposition of order to serve a domineering purpose violates the natural arrangement that could exist in a society were the individuals free to live and enjoy life as they pleased, or, more loosely, everything in order, nothing in place... Implying proper place. Colloquially, practically anyone might use this phrase, a child, for example, when told to do something by a parent. Indeed, the mind seems to capture things relative to the topomomy of the linguistic territory. In life we think we know where we are and what we are talking about when we say Paris, but the features of Paris France and Paris Texas are incomparable. In fact, the true impact of the word has to do with its associative features. The social group has accepted Paris as the name of a place where they would recognize the features. This is roughly the physiology of the noun. The Paris of Texas is ektopian, causing a reaction like: the name is way out of place; just knock it off, will ya? It should be named something like Cowpie. So it is intriguing to read The Journals of Lewis and Clark because so much of it consists of semi-definite images of territories without name, but laden with landmark features. So, non-existent place name in a mapless world consists of some features: an island on the starboard (right), proceeding north on a boat, across from a place with the name Passage de Sioux [sic], where gosling are seen going South then next,while in motion passing further North, where there is a flat rock projecting from the foot of a hill, called Platte ( from French plat, meaning flat via corrupt spelling) with a farm on it after which, still bearing North, you will see a small island and a bunch of logs in the water. Such a place might have been called Platte, and indeed there is one, named after the fur trader Bernard Pratte. Platte became a town in SD, mis transcribed and persistent, not far from Sioux Falls. But that is no where near the site described. They are still on the Mississippi. Looking at the date, only the second day out, we can see they had not yet made it to the point where the Mississippi branches off to the Missouri. But does this place have a name? If we got in a pirogue and traveled a days worth we might recognize the place described by William Clark on this day. We would recognize it by the flat rock jetting out from the hill, maybe, and perhaps a small island, but there would probably not be a farmhouse, or gosling, or logs rolling by. It would have no name on the map. The mind might match the imagination of a rock, a hill and a small island. Since no one ever did anything there that we know about there is no eponym. Since no collection of people went to live there, there is no community name. Its nameless; its an image that passed through Clarks awareness and stuck in prose, just this once, on that day, May 15, 1804. Its ektopic, but it illustrates something about mind: that mind can retain something that is unnamed, and yearns for no name, a nameless bundle of features that you wont see elsewhere. My spelling of the word, ektopic, strains also against something unexpected, the Greek k rather than the anglicized c., showing that we dont always want to go back to something pristine, but prefer something more conventional; yet there are few things more refreshing than the ektopic. Many theories could derive from the ektopic, and even a technology. In art history periodization we can see something developing: Middle Ages: Ikons are at the center of everything, radiating mnemonics for scriptural elements, generally set against blank backgrounds, church architectures or symbolic backgrounds. Ikons are most often contained by sequential frames, e.g. Dyptiches, Tryptiches, the Battistero di Firenze. Renaissance: Some Ikons, looking more human, and some famous persons, set either in or near grand architecture and neatly cultivated backgrounds. Most forms consist of angular components. Physical beauty erupts from classical models. Baroque: Obsessive curvature and complexity. Obsessive and gory suffering for known spiritual figures. Massively opulent architecture. Reformation: Withdrawal to more modest architecture, often in towns rather than cities. Realistic depiction of the infliction of pain, or the hobgoblin silliness of the common man as he lives out his meaningless life on the farm, or in town. Idealization of the bourgeoisie vs. classical fantasy. Romanticism: Boundless panorama and the spiritless suffering and insignificance of the common man. The boundless panorama brings us arts greatest landscapes and the giant panoramic novel. The poet and the individual merge into the desperation of insignificance as the Napoleonic state, posing as a Roman, tramples everyone under foot. Ektopia has been created, splitting off the hiders from the seekers, both out of place because, in the first case the state or the market will find you, or in the latter, you will never fill your gullet to infinitude. All are displaced, but political and oligarchic authority take advantage of the confusion and muster the deflation of will. Tutto in ordine, niente a posto. Ektopia resides in the imagination now, taking on moments of realization in country outings, in the idealization of elfin abodes in tree trunks, or places by peaceful waterfalls and other sorts of sensory seclusion with beautiful images and pleasant nature sounds, or music. One visits Ektopia every day on TV, in the store, but especially in religious revelry. Religious revery is the image of Ektopia. We are here; it is there. We are in this life of hell, but we will escape to where we can sit quietly by, unperturbed. That would be the dreamers Ektopia. The state Ektopia idealizes effortless social order where privilege and glory are permanent in the words of Swedenborg [1688-1777]: In the whole heavens those who are superior to the rest are in the middle, with the less excellent around about in a decreasing order even to the borders. [of heaven]. No violence is necessary because all needs will be supplied by angels. The inversion of this is to be found in Platos writings about Atlantis, where undefeated world political power resides in a fortress on an island in the center of concentric land masses. On these land masses are the militias that protect the power. But that is an Ektopia too, as it sank long before Plato to the extremes of the deep. Like all Ektopias, it is unknowable because it is un reachable. There is no map to get there because it is no longer, or not yet, a place to be realized by the senses in anything more concrete than a phantasmagoria without actors. It only has features, like those noted down by Mr. Clarke. If he were not seeing the Ektopia, he would not have mentioned the gosling and the logs.
Posted on: Sat, 26 Jul 2014 18:02:36 +0000
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