DESERTS OF THE REAL

“I say: the real is not on the departing or at the destination: realness itself is available to us in the middle of the path crossing.” (João Guimarães Rosa, The Devil to Pay in the Backlands)

“Living is the art of meeting someone whereas there are so much miss encounters during life.” (Vinícius de Moraes, Poetic Anthology)

The lack of roots and fixed places (physical and imaginary) marks our contemporary world. In fact, one can speak of different worlds comprised in one, of different provinces of the real. So, what is real (or not) in this fluid and transitory life that we all experience in different degrees?

In my case, I have lived in different places, sometimes feeling like a nomad or a disconnected molecule in a broader substance. I have returned to my home in Spain, where the term home still represents a continuation of some previous condition and not a fixed place. During my recent time spent in Greece, I experienced so many different things and feelings, met so many people and visited places which made me wonder whether all of them were or not real.

My mind thought of new possibilities, my fingers and hands created, my lungs laughed, my heart loved, my skin touched and my ears listened. My memories were free, at night I wandered close to the Acropolis; my spirit was washed while I was swimming in the Mediterranean Sea. I lost my mind driving on a roadway along Metamorphose coast during the sunset and after summiting a lonely volcano. For a short time, I gave my heart to a gorgeous person that deserved the best of me, and to whom I wish the best of life without hesitation.

There was no necessity to do so many different things to make the most of my stay in Greece, as the normalities of everyday life, like an afternoon spent downtown, were like a rest for my body in themselves. Sometimes, having a coffee in a hidden spot of the city was like having a provisional connection with the place in a peaceful moment of contemplation. This stoic way of living is helpful when someone is abroad, to know that the constant base for moving is being aware of changes. Changes.

The eternal search – There is some reality outside

At the beginning of time, we interpreted reality according to the moulds of myths. Myths are not opposed to rational thinking or scientific explanation in our understanding of the world. The archetype of myth is an allegory to interpret the world beyond moral and individual consciousness. It is the “narration” agglutinating the common world; it is a tradition that put us together in similar conditions to interpret our past and future. Attached either to the idea of divinity or to morals in a certain context and society, the myth is more than a symbolism of life: it is life and existence transgressed by symbols of realness. A metaphor that guides our collective paths and our personal encounter with reality. Thus, it should not be a surprise that philosophy in the Ancient classical era used myths to explain the deepest questions. For example, one can understand Plato´s cave as an allegory to free ourselves from our tiny existence, in order to uncover a supra-reality where reality shows itself. A story in which we seek for knowledge and perspective to reach the supreme layers of reality (as in the moment when the philosopher leaves the cave and sees the intense sunlight and forms of the external world).

The Platonic quest of reality, either in and ideal form or in concrete terms, has been the cornerstone of Western philosophy over the past 2000 years. Since Ancient times, the real was located in heavens, in a coming world, while our existence was a stage before the great travel of the soul to the realms of the afterlife. As time passed on, the reality was transferred downwards to our material world. It was the beginning of rationalism, scientific revolutions, and dominion of the natural world as equivalents of “reality”. Natural philosophy, or physics, taught us that the universe is different from myths; the laws of matter and micro particles, and the rules of time and space. Yet, natural sciences and cognitive philosophy considered that, outside our subjective perceptions, outside our minds, there is some concrete and material reality defining what is real and not. The realm of reality was just outside our heads. We only needed to create tools and theories to grasp the reality surrounding us by using better concepts and analysis. In short, reality can be differentiated from non-reality (and fiction) by a clear borderline.

There is some reality – even if we cannot reach it with accuracy

Over the last century, other kinds of knowledge and epistemological movements have put into question the separation between reality and fiction. Some scholars say that this change was produced by a simple principle: perspective. Whereas, to rationalists and naturalists, the understanding of the world consists in a relation between nature (or reality) and the observer, things changed a lot when we put a third observer into the equation. Two observers interpreting reality, or two observers interacting directly with each other expand the variables and amount of subjectivity which stems from reality´s interpretations.

After many epistemological battles and redefinition of theories, nowadays we know that there is no 100% objective interpretation, even in natural sciences. There are always some layers of subjectivity in every human decision and understanding of the world. This is because the human mind is not purely rational, and our subconscious plays a key role in interpreting our existence. We walk in the long night in a wakin dream pondering the big questions of the universe as well as the “small” issues of our jobs or families. In addition, time has a natural characteristic that can only be understood according to the subjective parameters of psychological time, like our past and projections of future. Thus, time is physically relative and historically and mentally conditioned. Furthermore, the borderline separating reality from fiction is blurred insofar as the layers of subjectivity, unconsciousness, and contingent context of every observer shifts that division to the senses of fiction, instead of reality.

In other words, psychology, philosophy, history and literary studies, which had concentrated their efforts to understanding the characteristics of fictions, narrative, allegories, representation, presence, memory, and so on, have a lot to tell us about reality as much as the natural sciences. Yet, for the former ones, even nature is subjected to representation, creation and sharing of senses. Those senses are like fictions or narratives, which are not necessarily “real” because many of them are theoretical propositions that cannot be proven yet (see the case of contemporary physics and some theorems in math and computing science). The only difference between reality and “non-reality” then consist of a differentiation in the perception (in creating and giving sense) to a certain fiction. That is, there are fictions everywhere, from the understanding of the universe in natural sciences, to the invention of nationalisms and politics (“serious fictions”) to fantasy stories with dragons and ice zombies (not so serious). Yet, the inner code that rules and allow us to understand reality consists on fictional and narrative tools that encompass everything (from mathematics to literature).

In light of the above, the borderline between serious fictions from other, ‘non-serious’ ones, is not clear. There is only a differentiation in terms of scale or degree. Some fictions are attached to a process of observation, with less layers of subjectivity that can be interpreted in consonance with similar fictions from other interpreters and from the expected behaviour of the observed world. If the layers of subjectivity and the random characteristics of a certain fiction overpass any of the previous criteria, one can speak of a lower degree of “seriousness” in that fiction.

This is called triangulation of information in a process for understanding and interpreting a phenomenon or object (hermeneutics). A process where a community share their views, establish certain criteria for the production and invention of fictions whereas they try to validate those criteria within an internal paradigm (episteme). In other words, in this perspective, despite that we cannot understand reality without fictions, there is an objective world outside that is mediated and collected by our narratives and fictions.

In this process, a certain level of subjective distortion and intermediation is expected and taken for granted. There is reality, but it cannot be 100% grasped or touched. Our reality consists of 0,1% to 99,9% of external realness. The other part is just “invented” by ourselves and even the infinitesimal percentage of realness is what gives sense to everything and the universe.

The Campfire Headphase – There is no reality we can grasp

A third school of thought comes from post-structuralism philosophy and communication studies. Basically, the difference between this and the previous school from fiction and narrative studies is that, even if there is a reality outside (of our mind) and between us, there is not reality we can grasp or be sure of its existence.

One of those ideas comes from “The Precession of Simulacra” of Jean Baudrillard. According to it, there is not reality we can touch and really reach because what matters is the encapsulation of certain parts of realness (selection) and the delivery and marketing of those parts as they were “reality”. To Baudrillard, the symbols of reality and its representation substitute reality, and reality cannot be really represented because of those selection processes:

“If once we were able to view the Borges fable in which the cartographers of the Empire draw up a map so detailed that it ends up covering the territory exactly […] this fable has now come full circle for us, and possesses nothing but the discrete charm of second-order simulacra. […] It is the real, and not the map, whose vestiges subsist here and there, in the deserts which are no longer those of the Empire, but our own: The desert of the real itself..”

Reality cannot be represented because it is always simplified to be selected, interpreted and shared with other observers. There is no way to grasp and interpret, in strictu sensu, reality and realness in its entirety. Human consciousness cannot simply assimilate the whole complexity and scale of the universe. Thus, it needs to create a permanent state of trance that resembles reality not only as a fiction but also as a simulation from which we cannot escape or experience as the true world. There is no reality to be touched or grasped. The desert of the real is the world we live. The desert of simulation that we all believe is real is in fact not. This resembles the metaphor of the Matrix or dreaming awaken. In fact, it could be. Maybe the realness consists of being aware that we live in a simulation, controlled in a certain way by the complexity of current politics and natural chaos, and in which we must struggle not to escape from the simulation but to alter it and free ourselves producing new simulations that counteract the previous ones. In that sense, utopia, the place of nowhere, is here and now.

“Awaken men have only one world, which is common to them all; but he who sleeps returns to his particular world. The logic of the dreaming cogito is just the opposite: that the only common world is the dreamworld, the anticipation of the community or the “dream” that will be awakening of the dream […]. Only the dreamer experiences the coincidence of history and prehistory which is the true time of the community. The dream-space of the arcade is the place where the time of the community can be experienced. The arcade is the union of modern technology and archaic dream. We know that modern technology always comes too early for its self-understanding. The discrepancy between futurist technology and its consciousness coincides with the reenchanment of modernity in the phantasmagoria of commodities. But it also coincides with the production of wish images wedded to elements of “ur-history”, with the storage of utopian potentials ready for a liberation” (Ranciere, in Walter Benjamin and the Demands of History).

In the backlands of the real

If reality cannot be grasped, or even if there is no reality at all because it is simply not accessible, current streams such as gamification, commodification, subjugation and other actions might turn subjects into passive objects or recipients for creating a simulated reality. The lack of reality, in the classical term, turn us into phantasmagoric allegories of ourselves, it allows playing with certain aspects of our individuality in order to create an amorphous masse to be regulated, ordered, sorted and administrated. Those are like the “evil” aspects of the simulation game we live. Attempts of escaping will be frustrated insofar as nobody controls the game, but there are aspects of the game that control us and define who we are and how we need to behave. This lead us to bio-politics and surveillance studies. A topic for a future post. Yet, let me just mention that even that there is no escape, that the desert of the real is everywhere, some dimensions may produce bugs and corrupt the simulation game. This notion stems from three elements: political resistance / immanent or mental quest to understand ourselves and the game / readapting the game by unusual practices or by creating anomalies.

The first and second elements are very well studied topics elsewhere. The third one consists of understanding this: the codes that rule the game is not maths, but fiction and narratology. In that sense, the rhetoric and expression of dreams and utopias are as important as the best equations to scrutiny the game and the persons who see themselves as “masters” of reality, i.e. advanced organizations that combine technology and power. Since fiction and narration connect everything that exist, the exceptional and strategic plans to counteract hegemonic players that control technology and power are connected and are as important as the emotional and perceptive sensations that we establish with our beloved ones. Hence, reason and love are intertwined and are as essential to redefine our personal and collective paths. At the end, those natural/human dimensions should be there, whatever the destination of resistance and the mental understanding of reality.

In that sense, to change reality, love nature is reformative instead of disruptive. However, it does not mean that love cannot redefine our mind-sets, transform institutions, and constrain powers in a deep manner in the long term. The virtue of love and similar fictions to redefine the simulation game resides in its modest and auxiliary principle. By reconfiguring the simulation, love reshapes our understanding of community and the world, oxygenating the ways in which it will be interpreted, mediated or managed. We must be skeptical about love promises and outputs. Yet, love must not be regarded as a mere appendage to transform the realness in the back lands of the real. Learning from failures in past experiences should be of importance for every project, collective or individual. Even radical aspirations and revolutionary projects must put more attention in love, as past attempts have shown that radical changes also failed to bring new senses and meanings, as in the case of emancipatory attempts that appeared disconnected from the souls of people.

In the name of a better future, authority appeared disconnected from legitimacy, opposite to a constant process that needs to be implemented and demonstrated every day, in the same way affection needs to be shown constantly between two or more lovers. Thus, it is difficult to imagine and dream about better futures (even if historical meta-narratives seem to have collapsed) if there is no place for dreams and profound soul connections between people in the back lands of realness today and tomorrow.

This post is dedicated to E. F. to whom I felt a rapid yet profound soul connection that redefined my reality, and to all the friends I met the last months and made me feel at home.

Post-scriptum: (I am thankful to Anneka Shally, friend and author of www.annekadotes.com who made the following comments on this text)

Sometimes the adjustment of perception that being in a new place brings allows you to see things from a more magical, child-like perspective. While it is possible to attain this state of mind without travelling to a new place, there is nothing, to me, that quite matches the wonder of adjusting to new surroundings. This can be like time-travel. I see it as very important for everybody to ‘leave’ their normal perspective and surroundings every once-in-a-while to keep this magic alive. If we all could approach life with this dream-like perspective, I do believe we would live in a very beautiful society.

While in Athens, and Greece as a whole, if you spent your whole life here I think it is not possible to lose this dream-like perspective. As you observe the ancient world integrated with the modern city at sunset from Lycabettus – where both the old-world and new-world instalments are cast with an unbiased orange glow, we are reminded of the one ever-present factor linking everything – the sun, the ‘cosmos’. Everything in the boundaries of our planet is impermanent, and this is what gives it such beauty.

A quote about magical realism I recently came across which this post, and moments I have experienced in Greece (i.e. losing our minds along the roadway of Metamorphoses coast at sunset) made me think of:

“Of all forms of literature, it seems to me, fairy tales give the truest picture of life. There may be errors in detail, but in a world so full of strange things, they scarcely matter. Two-headed giants and beanstalks that climb up in the sky may not be true, but assuredly, they are not too wonderful to be true. But the atmosphere of the fairy tale is astonishingly true to life. It deals with the silent witchery that lies in common things, corn and stones and apple trees, and if anyone will stare at them steadily in a field at twilight, he will find himself quite unable to asset that they are not magic.” (G.K. Chesterton : The Ethics of Fairyland)