Deep Time
of the Media: Toward an Archaeology of
Hearing and Seeing by Technical Means
by Zielinski, Siegfried; Gloria Custance,
Translator; Timothy Druckrey, Foreword
The MIT Press, Cambridge MA, 2006
389 pp. illus. Trade, $39.99
ISBN: 0-262-24049-1.
Reviewed by: Sean Cubitt
Program in Media and Communications
University of Melbourne
Australia
scubitt@unimelb.edu.au
Siegfried Zielinski offers a new take
on the long history of media technologies,
taking his readers on a tour of forgotten
archives and forgotten innovators. Familiar
names appear, among them a fascinating
repositioning of Athanasius Kircher. By
refusing to accept the normative histories,
Zielinski recovers a lost trajectory that
involves a long tradition of magical and
quasi-rational thought from Empedocles
to the Illuminati and, thence, to the
late 19th century reinvention of time.
Among those recovered from obscurity are
Giovan Battista Della Porta, Purkyne,
Lombroso and the extraordinary Aleksej
Kapitanovich Gastev. In his conclusion,
Zielinski not only draws together the
legacy of Ramon Llull, but proposes a
new cartography of media 'anarcheology',
whose centres are no longer London, Paris,
Berlin and New York but Petersburg, Prague
and places south and east. It is a marvelous
book in the most literal sense of the
word, and a wonderful read in its own
right, quite apart from the scholarship
and the revelation of new trajectories
for media historiography. One reason for
this is that the book opens onto a landscape
of strangely familiar if obscure beauty:
the history of the magical tradition as
an intellectual pathway now left in darkness,
but once a shining path for intellectual
and technological enquiry.
Zielinski's passion for the hermetic tradition
steers clear of the worst excesses of
Jungian mysticism while recalling the
line, from Robert Fludd to Vilèm
Flusser, that situates a history of media
in the gnostic tradition in Western Europe.
He reminds us that Newton's dark obsession
with alchemy is of a piece with his physics
and optics; and that Copernicus is as
much the heir of Pico della Mirandola's
solar worship as he is the ancestor of
scientific rationalism. It is an attractive
thought, that right knowing of material
science sails so close to the perennial
philosophy; and that however materialist
this history is, it addresses, if only
by rejection, the repressed chronotope
of the eternal wisdom.
What has always repelled materialists
from the hermetic tradition is not its
whimsy but on the contrary the solemnity
with which its priesthood has historically
erected ever more complex cathedrals of
theodicy and theogeny on the intuition
that something 'more' inhabits, locates
and frames the givenness of the world.
It is sad therefore to note that materialism
has often though not universally
eschewed any address to the sacred.
By this I do not mean that materialism
in any way fails for lack of a theology,
nor that the sacred forms some ontological
ground on which the material world is
more deeply founded. Rather, what has
been often lacking is a commitment to
understanding that affect which we recognise
under the rubric of sacredness, an elevation
beyond not merely the instinctual but
also the intellectual pleasures, a yearning
apart from the desire for justice, peace
and plenty for all. Since the term sacred
has, moreover, been tainted by centuries
of mouthing in institutions that have
done little for justice, peace or plenty,
we need another term, one that might displace
the materialist reluctance to address
affect in general and this affect in particular.
I propose a mediological enquiry into
the nature of wonder, a task admirably
launched by Zielinski's book.
Quite properly Zielinski calls this tradition
'magic'. It is hard nowadays not to evoke
Arthur C Clarke's dictum that any sufficiently
advanced technology appears as magic.
What neither Clarke nor Zielinski undertake
is an analysis of the curiously braided
destinies of magic and familiarity. As
Don Ihde observes, technologies that at
their invention appear magical can, with
widespread adoption, become 'embedded'
and transparent, as signs written in one's
native language are transparent. Embedded
technologies like television, once marvelous,
become the invisible vehicles of messages
whose mediation we notice only when the
machinery breaks down. The braiding of
magic and the mundane occurs when familiarity
breeds contentment. The internet is a
case in point. Early adopters not only
found the technology marvelous: we found
it interesting. The early adopter generation
tended to be computer literate, at least
at the level of understanding (and wondering
at) the processes of packet switching,
the efficacy of html, even the duplicity
of cookie technology. But for the internet
generation who grew up with them, these
marvels are the more truly magical because
they are not understood. Comprehension
of how the net works is today a specialist
discipline, or the domain of nerds, and
while nerds command a higher degree of
peer respect than in previous generations,
their knowledge is regarded as arcane,
and only its instrumental use in problem
solving genuinely prized. For the rest,
the web, e-mail, IRC are apparitions whose
arrival might as well be the result of
angels fluttering in Intel Core Duos as
of the massive infrastructure of satellites,
fibre-optics, domain name servers and
internet access points.
Not only does this leave internet governance
at the mercy of cultures of expertise;
nor merely open the doors to the exercise
of power through control of code and protocol.
It can also be damned for condemning us
to good-enough solutions, like web-safe
colours. At the same time, this state
of affairs echoes with the same magical
apparatuses that Zielinski points us towards.
The difference is that while embedded
internet appears without explanation or
the need for it, it rarely evokes the
sense of wonder that Zielinski's protagonists
and their audiences so graphically experienced.
It is a task perhaps preliminary,
but vital of critical enquiry to
restore that sense of wonder in the face
of technologies that have become banal.
There is a further refinement required
to the concepts of the hermetic tradition
and of magic that such a project requires.
Hermeticism's reliance on correspondences
on similarities held to embody
a deeper linkage between phenomena at
some metaphysical level has a tendency
to proliferate connections, drawing ragged
collocations of words, numbers and things
into mystic configurations. Pilloried
by Umberto Eco in his novels, and defended
as the root of radical (and contemporary)
art practice by Barbara Maria Stafford,
the practice of analogy can be as ludicrous
as it is illuminating. Critical studies
of technology seeking to induce a sense
of the strangeness of their objects need
to be alert to both the poetic affordances
of analogy and its capacity for mystification.
The methodological brush with magic reminds
us that the world still has surprises
in store for us. Should the word 'surprise'
seem to redolent of fairground attractions,
Tom Gunning has taught us that this is
no bad thing. If we are to retain our
capacity for amazement, we have to remain
open to the chance encounter of the sewing
machine and the umbrella stand on the
operating table. If this encounter explains
nothing, we must place it alongside more
licit engines of interpretation which,
it appears, increasingly can offer only
approximations, intimations, abstractions
of or from reality. Fractal geometry,
the uncertainty principle, string theory
all move away from claims to describe
nature and natural processes. Without
abandoning the claim to some kind of relation
to reality, such theoretical and mathematical
models no longer offer one-to-one transcriptions
of the real. The relation is neither one
of utter deracination nor of simulacra
lacking an original. On the contrary,
such expressions mediate between reality
and ourselves using processes that often
enough arise equally from natural and
artificial domains. Zielinski's book traces
processes of mediation that have found
some material form that would allow some
mode of conformation or congruence between
terms. His achievement is to have noted
that proximity is no guarantor of truth:
the fleck in my own eye is as strange
as, if not stranger than, the beam in
my ancestor's.