] 130.1 Pianola Ulysses paul k. saint-amour “Does this thing play?” . . . “Like a musical gorilla with ingers all of one length. And a sort of soul.” —H. G. Wells, Tono-Bungay (1909) he pianola “replaces” Sappho’s barbitos. —Ezra Pound, Hugh Selwyn Mauberley (1920) L ITERARY STUDIES HAS A GRAMOPHONE PROBLEM. WHEN REACH- ing for a sound-r eproduction technology to set beside literature, scholars now habitually grasp the phonographic assemblage. Un- derstandably so: this is a device whose best- known names—phono- graph, graphophone, gramophone1—announce its relation to writing, speciically its claim to write speech. Much of phonography’s early dis- course reinforces the conceit of vocal inscription these names encode. “Whoever may speak into the mouthpiece of the phonograph,” said Scientiic American in 1877, “has the assurance that his speech may be reproduced audibly in his own tones long ater he himself has turned to dust” (“Wonderful Invention”). In its early stenographic uses, the phonograph ofered a means of commercial correspondence. But Edi- PAUL K. SAINT-AMOUR teaches in the Department of English at the Univer- son cylinder recordings of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, sity of Pennsylvania. He is the author and Mark Twain reading or reciting their work helped turn the tech- of Tense Future: Modernism, Total War, nology, through its association with the authorial voice, into an auratic Encyclopedic Form (Oxford UP, 2015) and end in itself. From the mid- 1880s on, the phonograph also cropped The Copy wrights: Intellectual Property up as a prized diegetic object in works of iction by Edward Bellamy, and the Literary Imagination (Cornell UP, Arthur Conan Doyle, Jules Verne, Bram Stoker, and others.2 As Ivan 2003). With Jessica Berman, he coedits Kreilkamp has shown, the device haunts Joseph Conrad’s Heart of the book series Modernist Latitudes, at Columbia University Press. Darkness (1898), in whose play with disembodied speech it is nowhere © 2015 paul k. saint-amour PMLA 130.1 (2015), published by the Modern Language Association of America 15 16 Ulysses Pianola [ PMLA named but everywhere implied. And in a num- ment: in amplifying one technology of sound ber of celebrated modernist works—James reproduction, it has efectively muted the rival Joyce’s Ulysses (1922), T. S. Eliot’s he Waste and neighboring regimes in relation to which Land (1922), homas Mann’s he Magic Moun- phonography emerged and was deined.3 his tain (1924), William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dy- silencing oversimpliies at least two stories: ing (1930), Virginia Woolf’s Between the Acts our account of the discourse networks of the (1941), and Ralph Ellison’s he Invisible Man late nineteenth and early twentieth centu- (1952)—we ind prominent phonographs wired ries and our history of the period’s literary tightly into the texts’ formal self- conceptions. soundscapes. Stripped of its competitor and No wonder modernist studies has been quick tributary technologies and thus of its contin- to appoint phonography its cardinal regime of gencies, phonography gets conigured as the sound recording, storage, and playback—and unavoidable route to the sonic present, its his- to ind implicit in the gramophone not just the tory narrated from that present’s vantage— audiobook but the book, period. narrated, too, through the speech- writing his interest in analog sound reproduc- dialectic native to phonography rather than tion has produced a wealth of absorbing through exogenous terms that could produce scholarship. Some of it views the gramophone a diferent account. While this dialectic holds as a death-b ringing object against which mod- sway, even the most historically inclined ernism “embraces the audience, the speaker, students of the connections between sound the human connection” by insisting on the recording and the literary text will tend to superiority of live performance (Knowles 2). understand phonography as either asserting More often, scholars of literary phonogra- the primacy of speech over writing or expos- phy participate in a Derridean critique of ing speech’s ineliminable ties to diference, phonocentrism, reading in the gramophone delay, absence, and partiality. But this op- an extreme case of the voice’s detachability position will underwrite a profounder collu- from speaker, body, and presence (Stewart; sion: as long as the celebrants and the critics Kreilkamp; Scott). Or they use a text’s pho- of phonocentrism remain inside the speech- nographic hardware to entrain literature into writing complex, they will continue to sustain a Kittlerian discourse network—to connect a deepening regime of gramophonocentrism. “abstract meanings to real, tangible bodies, his article ofsets the gramophone prob- and bodies to regimes of power, information lem by drawing attention to a technological channels, and institutions” (Suárez 748; see assemblage that was roughly coeval with pho- also Rice; Sterne). In sorting them this way, nography, developing alongside it in mixed I have made the Derridean and Kittlerian ap- relations of rivalry, symbiosis, intimacy, and proaches sound discrete, even incompatible. indifference, an assemblage whose elements But in fact they are powerfully allied, for me- have become variously extinct, exotic, and dia histories of phonography receive categori- ubiquitous. I refer to the player piano, or pi- cal het from a deconstructive speech- writing anola, a pneumatic playback instrument whose analytic they in turn endow with historical bellows were operated by a human “pianolist” depth. he gramophone is not only the pri- pumping two foot pedals or by an electric mo- mary site of this improbable alliance but also, tor and whose approach to recording, storing, by now, its sign—the technology that millen- and replaying sound contrasts with phonogra- nial scholars of sound and literature would phy’s. Where Edison’s analog device physically have needed to invent had it never existed. cut sonic vibrations into hard storage materi- What I am calling our gramophone prob- als, the pianola transcribed the mechanical lem arises from the success of this rapproche- elements of a keyboard performance into a ] 130.1 Paul K. Saint-Amour 17 binary machine language encoded in perfora- It might seem too soon to rescue the tions on a paper roll. Phonographic playback player piano, which can still be heard in re- involved acoustic amplification and varied cordings and seen in the odd home or pizza modestly from one machine to the next; the parlor. But if the pianola remains in sight, its pianola’s pneumatic system translated binary strangeness has gone into hiding: for most code back into mechanical- acoustic events it is a curiosity unworthy of attention, while subject to the idiosyncrasies of the playback those who do attend to it, whether as boosters instrument and capable of being signiicantly or detractors, have tended to do so in reduc- altered by the pianolist through expressive tive or emblematic terms.5 Some of the most pedaling, transposition controls, and manual vehement haters have been postwar novelists. levers afecting tempo and dynamics. In Player Piano (1952), his first novel, Kurt As against the purely analog phonograph, Vonnegut made the instrument the master the player piano was a binary- analog hybrid, emblem for a dystopia of automation. Wil- allowing for greater interactivity even as the liam Gaddis nursed a pianola obsession for sight and sound of the instrument “playing over five decades, pursuing the instrument itself” were at least as uncanny as the phono- through he Recognitions (1955), J R (1975), graph’s disembodied voice. Although it used and the posthumously published Agapē Agape its pneumatic lungs to replicate the work of (2002), whose original subtitle was “A Secret fingers—to play rather than to reproduce History of the Player Piano.”6 Although Gad- singing or speech—the pianola was dissev- dis was more engaged than Vonnegut with the ered neither from the voice nor from the pianola’s development and cultural history, he mark: piano rolls were crisscrossed with mul- too inally saw it as epitomizing technology’s tiple forms of writing unique to the medium, rationalizing energies. Both writers were ex- including the perforations that activated in- tending a strand of antimechanical modern- dividual notes, inked tempo and dynamics in- ism that we can trace back at least to Joseph structions for the operator, and song lyrics for Conrad’s The Secret Agent (1907), in whose the beneit of singers. he pianola was proto- Silenus beer hall a clangorous pianola is an karaoke: not an acoustic capture of a single omen of the “perfect detonator” imagined by vocal performance for later listening but a the book’s resident nihilist, the Professor (93). spur to participatory singing, a song prompter Meanwhile, the player piano’s most original whose disorienting bottom- to- top manner of and inluential later- twentieth- century propo- lyric scanning continues to fascinate poets nents, the composers Conlon Nancarrow and and visual artists.4 And this is to speak only of György Ligeti, praised the instrument’s ability the instrument’s more technical and material to exceed the precision, speed, and dexterity aspects. There will be more to say about its of human performers, embracing the very as- cultural ambidexterity as a durable good for pects of the device that chilled its disparagers. brothel and living room, dance hall and con- he pianola has thus been diicult to keep in cert hall; its gendering work as prop and stage focus as a speciic series of assemblages, tend- for a certain model of bourgeois femininity; ing to congeal into an ahistorical emblem of its play with aura and distance in being able dehumanizing mechanization or superhu- to reproduce, with greater and greater idelity, man capacity. he instrument’s susceptibility the nuanced pianism of great performers; its to allegory is part of the cultural history with debatable efects on piano pedagogy and ama- which we will need to come to terms. I propose teur music; and its way of alternately vexing to do this by resubjecting this frozen iconicity and materializing the recording, storage, and to the instrument’s technological and cultural playback technology we call the novel. particulars, at the same time reentangling 18 Ulysses Pianola [ PMLA them with a cultural history of phonography he insists on the inseparability of these two that has become all too discrete. he idea is laughters—the yes of memory and the yes of not to replace one technology—much less one airmation—Derrida implicitly charges his technological determinism—with another. audience to listen more closely to the latter: Quite the contrary: it is to restore some lost to attend to Joyce’s work less as a “machine complexity to the sound- capture, -storage, of iliation” grounded in professional compe- and -playback universe to which twentieth- tence than as a rebuke to competence whose century literary works oten turned in testing preemptive energies are “joyfully dispersed in and revising their self- concepts. a multiplicity of unique yet numberless send- ings” (294, 304). Understood along these lines, “Ulysses Gramophone” might as accurately be Against Ulysses Gramophone titled “Against Ulysses Gramophone.” As a way of weakening our gramophono- Despite its frequent conscription by centrism, I would like, a little perversely, to scholars of literature and sound media, Der- pay more attention to a particular gramo- rida’s essay is not occupied with the kinds of phone: the one Derrida theorizes in “Ulysses technological and historicist questions that Gramophone: Hear Say Yes in Joyce,” which most concern those scholars. It spends little he delivered as the opening address of the time with the famous gramophone passage 1984 International James Joyce Symposium in Ulysses’s “Hades” episode, less with the in Frankfurt and subsequently published.7 machine’s reappearance in “Circe,” and none hirty years on, Derrida’s essay has become unfolding the history of phonography or its a touchstone for studies of sonic modernity, engagement by Joyce’s work. In fact, Der- its identiication of a “gramophone efect” in rida’s gramophone is less acoustic playback Joyce’s novel licensing the argument that lit- device than computer, “programophoned” erature might do more than represent sound- (283), a preprogrammable archive, a “hy- reproduction media, might imitate, even permnesic machine” (281). he gramophone adumbrate, the gramophone’s grasp of speech effect in Joyce’s work takes shape as “the as inscription (276).8 Without exhaustively re- most powerful project for programming over reading “Ulysses Gramophone,” I suggest that the centuries the totality of research in the one price of its touchstone status has been a onto- logico- encyclopedic field,” and its au- loss in the essay’s argumentative bandwidth— thor “has at his command the computer of a loss, speciically, of Derrida’s critique of the all memory” (281). Having igured Ulysses as oten cited gramophone efect. Far from sim- a gramophonic computer, Derrida imagines ply promoting the gramophone as an emblem Joyce studies as a computer of the same kind: of a triumphant antiphonocentrism, Derrida a remotely searchable compendium of all of invokes it, too, as shorthand for a totalizing Joyce’s works and their critical commentaries, drive in Ulysses to archive all knowledge as ready for ininite queries, operating only in well as to preempt all future discourse about En glish and with a United States patent (286). itself. Gramophony in this sense, implicitly a But the computer is not only a figure for form of graphomania, indexes “a yes- laughter Ulysses’s encyclopedic conceit, or a device for of encircling reappropriation, of omnipo- twitting American Joyceans for their mono- tent Odyssean recapitulation,” an ungener- lingualism. he essay closes with a fantasia ous laughter in contrast to which Derrida about a second machine, an “nth generation celebrates “the yes- laughter of a git without computer that would be up to the task” of debt, light airmation, almost amnesic, of a testing Derrida’s reading of the yes in Joyce. git or an abandoned event” (294). Although his imaginary device would at once fulill ] 130.1 Paul K. Saint-Amour 19 and explode the dream of competence; it a single recording “in a multiplicity of unique would typologize, in all languages, the yeses yet numberless sendings.” It enables playback of the text while also working against typol- while soliciting song. ogy by understanding how yes eludes meta- To read “Ulysses Gramophone” as a cri- language; and it would trace the interplay of tique of what Derrida calls the gramophone the two yes laughters without presuming to efect is not to level the same critique at schol- separate them through reductive binarisms, ars of literary phonography, even those who instead attending to their doubling, their mu- cite Derrida’s essay as a warrant for their tual countersigning, their forming, together, work. No one who studies the phonograph a vibration. “I hear this vibration,” Derrida would draw a straight line between its par- writes, nearing the end, “as the very music ticular technological and cultural capacities of Ulysses. A computer cannot today enu- and the abstract work Derrida has it do in merate these interlacings, in spite of all the “Ulysses Gramophone.” But to weaken the many ways it can help us out. Only an as yet affirmative bond between those terms—to unheard- of computer could, by attempting to insist that the essay neither equates Ulysses integrate with it, and therefore by adding to it with a gramophone nor posits the device as its own score, its other language and its other the novel’s logo or coat of arms, that it rather writing, respond to that in Ulysses” (308). resists such identifications—allows us to Two computers: a present- day one that consider what ways of reading Ulysses might materializes the Joyce industry’s completism emerge from Derrida’s critique of gramo- and competence fetish (its gramophone ef- phonocentrism. How might we approach the fect) and a future device that would respond problems of recording, storage, and playback uniquely and unforeseeably to what is unique in Joyce’s book without deepening the rut in Ulysses (the very music of Ulysses) instead of the speech- writing binarism? If, as I have of subjecting the text indiscriminately to a argued, Derrida’s essay subjects the gramo- string of preset operations. Were Derrida of phone it names to a haunting by the pianola the party of Conrad, Vonnegut, and Gad- it does not, what alternative portrait of the dis, he would have named the bad computer novel might appear under the sign of that ater the player piano, that emblem of dead- spectral instrument, with its self- depressing ening mechanization. But the pianola goes keys?9 And what uninvited guest might come unmentioned by Derrida, despite playing as to occupy the player piano’s empty bench? prominent a role in Ulysses as the gramo- phone. Nevertheless, an essay that names the Mechanical Music Makers gramophone without dwelling on it can be understood to dream of, without naming, the So far I have pitted the gramophone and the pianola: a device whose “computer reading- pianola against each other, in part because, head” registers the music of Ulysses by add- as we will shortly see, the “Circe” episode in ing to it its own score (307)—an assemblage Joyce’s novel stages a kind of duel between comprising a scrolling code, a given instru- them. But the gramophone and the pianola ment with unique timbres, a singer or sing- were, if not born together, at least reared ers, and the inimitable acoustics of a room. in adjacent nurseries. As the two media In exceeding its own binarity—in quantizing emerged, they were oten spoken of in a sin- music without dematerializing it, in subject- gle breath—“linked,” says the historian David ing the purity of its signal to the noise and Suisman, “as two aspects of a single phenom- risk of multiple contingencies—the pianola enon” (17). he United States Copyright Act instantiates the yes of airmation, dispersing of 1909, he reminds us, handled them under 20 Ulysses Pianola [ PMLA a single legal device, the new compulsory standard piano, making it visible as already mechanical license, which permitted the cre- extravagantly mechanical. We might think of ation of “mechanical reproductions” (as dis- the player piano as a reading of the piano—or, tinct from copies) for a preset royalty, without equally, as the piano’s metaictive turn: as ma- the consent of the copyright owner. Writing terializing the piano’s self- understanding as during the debates that led up to the 1909 act, mechanism. Among the things it underscores the composer John Philip Sousa also lumped is the standard piano’s conscription of a hu- the phonograph and the player piano together man player less as an agent of self-e xpression as “mechanical reproducing machines” in than as a part of the instrument’s sound- deploring their efect on amateur musician- reproduction mechanism. Classical players, in ship. Not least that of American girls: “let the particular, spend years developing disciplined mechanical music- maker be generally intro- techniques, oten involving repetitive biome- duced into the homes; hour for hour these chanical relex conditioning, in order to ex- same girls will listen to the machine’s perfor- ecute pieces in the manner designated by the mance and, sure as can be, lose inally all in- composer. As Suisman puts it, “[T] he point of terest in technical study.” A single- technology the player’s labor was, just as it would be later view of the phonograph or the pianola misses with increasingly mechanized technologies, how they were paired, even conflated, by reproduction of sounds determined earlier, copyright law and by those who saw “the me- by someone else” (21–22); in other words, the chanical music- maker” as a unified regime alpha version of the player piano was the clas- posing one dire threat to amateur music. sical pianist. his sounds darkly Foucauldian, And another threat to a musically interpo- but it might prompt us to reconsider Sousa’s lated model of femininity: the girl who would deploration over amateur music’s death at rather listen to a player piano than practice the hands of mechanical music makers. Say her scales would have her counterpart in the for the sake of argument that the “technical phonograph- wielding mother at bedtime. study” of the piano, even for nonprofession- As Sousa asks, “[W] ill she croon her baby to als, required the acquisition of competence sleep with sweet lullabys, or will the infant be (to use Derrida’s word) through numbing, put to sleep by machinery?” (281). strenuous, repetitive discipline. Perhaps then I will consider, below, how Ulysses rep- the pianola, long accused of dehumanizing licates and travesties the pianola’s staging of musical expression, should be reclaimed as an gender. But before turning to Joyce’s novel, emancipatory technology: as a device to root we should dwell on the piano itself for a mo- out routinization. his would be to ind the ment, to prize it apart from its automation pianola’s relexive turn exposing as fake the and to ask why a novel might ind one of its organicism that surrounds the standard in- self- concepts in a player piano as opposed to strument—to ind metaiction publishing the the standard instrument. To call the pianola a hidden regimens of iction. mechanized piano is to imply that the piano alone is not already mechanical. But, as Suis- Ulysses’s Pianola man again reminds us, the modern pianoforte results from centuries of Western keyboard- The pianola makes its appearance late in instrument development crossed with Joyce’s book, in the hallucinatory “Circe” epi- nineteenth- century industrial manufacturing. sode, written in the form of a dramatic script. Not an incursion of mechanism, the pianola Leopold Bloom has followed the inebriated is an intensification of it. This realization Stephen Dedalus and his friend Lynch into helps dispel any organic fantasies about the Dublin’s red- light district, where they have ] 130.1 Paul K. Saint-Amour 21 entered a brothel run by Bella Cohen. here, (472; 15.4137–39). here follows a long para- through an open window, the Yorkshire- born graph in which the lyrics of the pianola’s song sex worker Zoe hears a group of people in the are interspersed with references to earlier epi- street singing “My Girl’s a Yorkshire Girl”: sodes in the novel; at the end of this, a vision of Stephen’s dead mother rises through the zoe loor, precipitating one of the episode’s crises. hat’s me. (she claps her hands.) Dance! Dance! Pianola, like zipper, thermos, and heroin (she runs to the pianola.) Who has twopence? (and, for that matter, gramophone and pho- bloom nograph), is a proprietary eponym—a term Who’ll . . .? that started out as a brand name but became lynch a generic, in this case for any player piano. So (handing her coins.) Here. . . . we will not expect to be able to identify the zoe (turns the drumhandle.) here. speciic instrument in “Circe.” Instead, in ac- (She drops two pennies in the slot. Gold, cord with the episode’s dream logic of conden- pink and violet lights start forth. The sation, what we ind is a conlation of several drum turns purring in low hesitation discrete machines, a synchronic capsule his- waltz. Professor Goodwin, in a bowknot- tory of the player piano. As if in answer to ted periwig, in court dress, wearing a Bloom’s asking, “Who’ll . . .?” (play the pi- stained Inverness cape, bent in two from ano, presumably), Professor Goodwin, Molly incredible age, totters across the room, his Bloom’s former accompanist, now retired, hands luttering. He sits tinily on the pia- appears. His age and the “handless sticks of nostool and lits and beats handless sticks arms” he lits and beats on the keyboard make of arms on the keyboard, nodding with him an anthropomorphic version of the Aeo- damsel’s grace, his bowknot bobbing.) lian piano player, or “push- up player” (ig. 1), a (468–69; 15.4004–22; 1st ellipsis in orig.) separate device that was wheeled up to a regu- The table is pushed to one side so that Ste- lar piano until its sixty- five leather-c overed phen and Zoe can dance as Bloom looks on. ingers were positioned over the correspond- ing keys. But earlier in the episode Bloom (The prelude ceases. Professor Goodwin, had heard piano playing from the street—“A beating vague arms, shrivels, shrinks, his man’s touch. Sad music. Church music” (387; live cape falling about the stool. he air in 15.1278)—and, thinking the touch might be irmer waltz time sounds. Stephen and Zoe Stephen’s, had asked Zoe whether Stephen circle freely. he lights change, glow, fade was inside. Once he enters the music room gold rosy violet.) eight hundred lines later, Bloom indeed inds the pianola Stephen standing at the instrument—“with Two young fellows were talking about two ingers [repeating] once more a series of their girls, girls, girls, empty iths” (410; 15.2072–73). he accessibil- Sweethearts they’d let behind . . . . . . (469; 15.4047–53) ity of the keyboard here implies not a push-u p player but an “inner player” (fig. 2), an up- The pianola continues to speak or sing the right piano with the pneumatic and mechani- words to the song, as if it were part gramo- cal stack of the push- up player built into its phone. As the dancers whirl with greater cabinet. hese instruments irst appeared in abandon, the stage directions mime their dip the late 1890s, which squares with Zoe’s ask- and spin. An apparition of Stephen’s father, ing Bloom, in the wee hours of the novel’s 16 Simon, says, “hink of your mother’s people!” June 1904 setting, “Are you coming into the to which Stephen responds, “Dance of death” music room to see our new pianola?” (408; [ 22 Ulysses Pianola PMLA F . 1 IG Ad for a push-up pianola. 15.1990–91). But the fact that Zoe can select not surprise us much given that the song “My a particular tune by “turn[ing] the drumhan- Girl’s a Yorkshire Girl” was not published un- dle” indicates an instrument with a sophisti- til 1908, four years ater the novel’s action. In cated device permitting multiple rolls, such Ulysses’s Homeric intertext, Circe can see the as Wurlitzer’s Automatic Music Roll Changer future. What would have been chronological (ig. 3). hese precursors of the jukebox would howlers in other episodes seem commensurate have been installed in coin- operated instru- with the porous temporality of Joyce’s “Circe.” ments such as the Wurlitzer IX (ig. 4), whose Looking closely at the ad for the Auto- electriied motor relieved humans of having matic Music Roll Changer, we see the menu to pump and whose backlit art- glass front “Classical, Opera, Songs, Dances, or the Na- could have supplied those fairground- like tional Airs,” indicating the broad variety “gold, pink and violet lights” that start forth. of musical genres available as pianola rolls. Machines like this did not appear until 1910 A playback machine with easily exchanged at the earliest, but such anachronisms should rolls could play almost any kind of music and ] 130.1 Paul K. Saint-Amour 23 FIG. 2 Ad for an inner player (Everybody’s Magazine, 1900). [ 24 Ulysses Pianola PMLA FIG. 3 Ad for the Wurlitzer Auto- matic Music Roll Changer.
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