Deconstruction and the major concepts

 

Deconstruction is a literary theory and method of textual analysis that was developed by the French philosopher Jacques Derrida. It emerged in the late 1960s and has had a profound influence on literary criticism and various disciplines within the humanities. Deconstruction challenges traditional notions of language, meaning, and interpretation.

Differance:

Derrida introduces the term "differance" as a play on the French words "différer" (to differ) and "déférer" (to defer). Differance emphasizes the idea that meaning is deferred and delayed. It suggests that language is always in a state of becoming, and there is no fixed or stable meaning. The constant play of differences contributes to the ambiguity and openness of interpretation.

Undecidability:

Derrida argues for the undecidability of meaning. Many texts contain points of ambiguity or contradiction that resist straightforward interpretation. Deconstruction emphasizes the inherent uncertainty and instability of language, making it impossible to arrive at a single, fixed interpretation.

Trace:

The trace refers to the residual marks left in language, which leads to yet another interpretation. It signifies that even though meaning is deferred, traces of meaning are left behind in the form of linguistic markers. These traces contribute to the complexity and endless new possibilities of meaning.

Logocentrism:

Derrida challenges logocentrism, which is the privileging of speech and the spoken word over writing. He argues that writing is not a mere representation of speech but has its own significance. Deconstruction disrupts the hierarchy between speech and writing, questioning the assumed superiority of one over the other.

Deconstructive Critique:

Deconstructive critique involves exposing the inherent contradictions and tensions within a text or a system of thought. It does not seek to provide a definitive interpretation but rather to demonstrate the instability of meaning and challenge fixed understandings.

 

The Solitary Reaper

Behold her, single in the field,

Yon solitary Highland Lass!

Reaping and singing by herself;

Stop here, or gently pass!

Alone she cuts and binds the grain,

And sings a melancholy strain;

O listen! for the Vale profound

Is overflowing with the sound.

 

No Nightingale did ever chaunt

More welcome notes to weary bands

Of travellers in some shady haunt,

Among Arabian sands:

A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard

In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,

Breaking the silence of the seas

Among the farthest Hebrides.

 

Will no one tell me what she sings?—

Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow

For old, unhappy, far-off things,

And battles long ago:

Or is it some more humble lay,

Familiar matter of to-day?

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,

That has been, and may be again?

 

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang

As if her song could have no ending;

I saw her singing at her work,

And o'er the sickle bending;—

I listened, motionless and still;

And, as I mounted up the hill,

The music in my heart I bore,

                    Long after it was heard no more.