The genesis of electronic literature began with the kind of combinatory poetics seen in “House of Dust” by Allison Knowles and James Tenney, “Stochastic Texts” by Theo Lutz, and “Love Letters” generator by Christopher Strachey. All of these works were released as early as 1952 but no later than 1967, and by looking at the extent to which understanding the historical context of combinatory poetics facilitates a greater appreciation for the works, we being to understand how that type of electronic literature might not be as applicable or effective as it was at the time of its creation.
What struck me most about the historical context was the way artistic movements such as the Dadaists heavily influenced creativity taking place. The cut-up technique adopted by many within this movement rejected notions of common sense and unoriginality by taking an article, cutting up all of the words, and then drawing randomly from the pot to create something new which became a common practice amongst creative writers (Rettberg 21). Thus, digital combinatory poetics’ connection to print forms of poetry lies within the same principle—feed the computer random words and have it arrange them in a random order to create a distinctly original poem. Rettberg highlights the way as well in which “computers provide a variety of ways to easily select at random” material that can be used for randomization within poetry (23). This aspect of randomness, however, as a reader located well within the 21st century, doesn’t as easily trigger my sympathies considering my externality from the original culture the text was placed in. Consequently, the randomness’ interjection in my ability to easily understand the text proves rather frustrating.
As a result, I am moved to ask: does the importance of combinatory poetic works lie within the text itself or rather within the process by which the text was created?
Simultaneously, the search for originality in the mid-20th century not only gave rise to the cut-up technique but also the distinct form of the works. The text becomes more indecipherable, I argue, due to the way in which electronic combinatory poetics escape formally from the confines of the screen to never return except in a reincarnated fashion. The Nick Montfort’s implementation of Strachey’s “Love Letters” flashes the letters across the screen without proper time to read them, and if you can’t read it in time, it vanishes. This movement provides a reason for the why “Stochastic Texts” and “Love Letters” remain fundamentally poetic. Their representational meanings in addition to evocative meanings, as we discussed in class, remain under the control of the works’ forms. With regards to these two combinatory poetic pieces, their representational meanings are hardly the only meanings present, for the evocative meanings are heavily privileged when the content is difficult to decipher, disappears, and is recycled.
I remain intrigued by Rettberg’s claim that “if these letters are not great literature, they are literary writing produced by the procedural operations of the computer” and if this is the way we choose to think about combinatory poetics, then to what extent have modern computer science advancements also advanced (or diminished?) the ability for writers and scientists alike to be better storytellers (32). Particularly, what is the purpose of poetry if not to somehow come to understand it? Am I unable to understand the gravity of these works because I could not relate to the contextual culture?