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permuted with another, refuses the idea that the studied and the studier are separable. Next to us is not
the work that we study, which we love so well to explain, but the work we are. I unclothe myself in
addressing a poem, and the poem returns to show me my bearings, my comportment, and the way to
read the next poem or painting, person or situation.
*
I am as low and befuddled as any man, as fouled and out of touch and self-deluded; this is what gives
me a place from which to speak.
*
Is criticism condemned to be 50 years behind the arts? Is the art of today the model for the cultural
studies of the next century? Will you be content to produce artifacts already inscribed in a dimming past,
quaint lore for future researchers of institutional mores to mull on? Or will you make the culture you
desire?
It's worth repeating: signifying practices have only art from which to copy.
*
-- Oh, no, not art! I thought art was finished, over, done. I mean after Burger and Danto and Jameson
and Bourdieu and all those anthologies of cultural and new historical studies! I mean after the Yale
School took Keats out on a TKO, art's never even had a strong contender.
-- Charlie, Charlie, Charlie it was you. I could have been a contender, I could have been somebody,
instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it.
7
-- Art, she's not finished. I can hear her in the very halls we are congregating in today. She's saying: Just
give me one more chance in the ring.
_____________________
Presented on December 29, 1992, at the Annual Meeting of the Modern Language Association as part of
a panel on "Framing the Frame: Theory and Practice". Published in College Literature 21.2, June (1994)
and posted with the permission of the editor, Jerry McGuire. © Charles Bernstein. Subsequently
published in My Way: Speeches and Poems (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999).
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