Aarseth states “a world wide web document, on the other hand, exist(s) only in one place—on the world wide web server where the author (or document owner) has placed it.” (Aarseth, 81) He goes on to explain how an author has no ability to correct, improve or otherwise alter the text when distributed by CD-Rom or printed version to a mass audience (largely true, but not entirely so), and that the web gives the narrrative “a sense of place.” I would assume that he is suggesting that narrative, like other forms of art, deserves a place to be viewed, and that the world wide web provides such a place for the author.

I disagree with some of these assertions. It seems to be that control of any content is lost once placed on the web. While the original content would arguably remain on the author’s designated server, several generations, derivation or mutation of the work, could possibly appear on other servers, giving the author less control. It is well-known that authors proof their work before it is printed, and the web could be seen as a proving ground for any narrative work. But it must be expected that certain rights are relinquished when publishing anything on the world wide web. And whereas Aarseth notes that a book or CD-Rom falls out of the author’s control once sold, I would argue that a work also suffers the same fate when uploaded.

Which brings me to my question: when does authorship end and readership begin? If the reader is a reader-author as Landow suggested, do we dismiss the concept of authorship (in the sense of ownership of the entire work) and accept any derivation as a separate form of a creative work? Is the paradigm for narrative changing, or has this always existed (as I suspect) in some form or other? Could it be said that the reader’s interpretation of a text is its own separate narrative, not necessarily philologically, but in some other cognitive sense?

I kept reading this book thinking, “Are Spoken Words text?”. If I go by the definition that is in the book, or by that I mean, how the author described text, then yes. His definition is “…any object with primary function to relay verbal information. I do hear people say that they “read” a book, and when I asked them more questions it turned out that they had either bought the audible book, or bought the book on CD’s. Does the ability to decide what track or to even rewind or fast forward qualify as functions of text? After all, audio is just bunch of 1’s and 0’s decoded and delivered as sound by the decoding device. What we call hieroglyphics (or what Ancient Egyptians just called text in their day) are a series of pictures that represent thoughts. To take this to another level, Hanzi, or Chinese characters, are actual little images that represent ideas more than words. These are definitely text, but I am not sure if they represent typology. All of these represent verbal information. Borges has said that some of the greatest writers were actually Orators. What they were to speak or what they wrote was for the purpose of orating. Which brings me back to the question I had…Are spoken words, text. I believe spoken words are text. I do not know if text that is spoken is ergodic. It would depend on whether the audio or the orator have interactive qualities, also it would depend on whether the author is reading or speaking the text, or if someone (not the author) is reading the text.

“Once a machine is interactive, the need for human-to-human interaction, sometimes even human action, is viewed as radically diminished, or gone altogether, as in interactive pedagogy.”

Which I would almost argue against in interactivity. If anything, we are attempting to make the interactive element, whatever the element is, more human-like. There is no way to completely remove the human-to-human interaction. Though it might be artificial, we are always attempting to improve upon the human interactivity of man and machine. Not to mention that you can’t remove the author from the machine. There will always be some component within the interactivity that holds a piece of the author, more then what we may visibly see.

What I didn’t like about this passage was that Aarasth left his interpretation open-ended. There wasn’t as much of an ending or more interpretation of how he viewed texuality, linearity, and interactivity. I didn’t really feel I understood what he was trying to get at by explaining, in a somewhat cut and dry manner, what he was trying to present to the reader. If anything I am wondering more and more about interactivity and why it can only be applied to the user and an adventure game, in his example. What really makes hypertext, in this situation, interactive? Why is it not tied in more to linear and non-linearity? Maybe it’s the way that I was reading the passage, but I felt that none of the questions presented in this text were left half-answered.

I have to agree with the author when he states that there is a lack of clear terminology regarding the issue at hand (computer media and cybertexts). It would even seem as if there’s some sort of competition amongst the people studying the field of cybertexts (or any field for that matter, actually) as to who can come up with new terms to designate what cannot be easily placed within a determinate frame; or perhaps is it that they’re caught in a cycle of creating buzzwords to see what sticks around long enough to make the dictionary? Or are there ideological and/or commercial reasons behind it all, as the author seems to suggest? However, in the end, it seems unlikely that someone could come up with this “ideal” terminology on which everyone can agree; thus, wouldn’t every attempt generate more confusion than understanding? Or would this confusion help us to incorporate multiple viewpoints to get a greater view of the chaos we’ve gotten ourselves into?

While it might not have been the case when the book was published, George Landow’s idea that “hypertext blurs the boundary between author and reader” has become almost a non-negotiable truth in media circles. And it’s something that media outlets, particularly newspapers, have driven. Media outlets want readers/viewers to feel like they have ownership in the product, like it’s their own personal news source. They want readers to feel like they have a voice. That’s why newspapers nationwide have been printing up special editions for specific neighborhoods, and printing up niche product after niche product. Look at the Dallas Morning News’ community Web sites. There are a few editors that police the sites, but they’re otherwise completely reader-driven. The authors are the readers and the readers are authors.

With that in mind, my question would be whether hypertext and other forms of cyber-media merely blurs or obliterates the line between author and reader? If a reader can skip around through a document at will, who’s to say they’re not the author of that work or a completely different one? Why can’t their name be on the book or newspaper article? And if they take part in the article, don’t they have equal right to be considered an author? It may seem strange, but in all my years as a reporter, I never once felt like an author. Sometimes I felt like a writer, but primarily I considered myself a fact-gatherer. No matter how much I gussied up the writing, the final product was always dependent on what others told me. In other words, there’s no story if nobody talks. Would cyber-media exist if nobody participated?

On page 81 Aarseth discusses the ontological (their state of existence) differences of Web documents compared to other formats. Aarseth states that the author retains control of his work with a Web document, whereas once a book [or other format] is sold that work is beyond the author’s control. This idea makes me question the definition of one work in print versus a changing work of hypertext. If the author makes a change to a hypertext, “without any reader’s knowledge” (Aarseth 81) does that hypertext then retain its original intended form or does it then become an entirely new work? Surely changes like correcting spelling errors do not change the work. But what about adding or removing an entire section? Does that change the hypertext to a new version or edition?

Perhaps it’s best to not define the hypertext by the more rigid requirements of traditional text.

1.Ergodic: using a term appropriated from physics that derives from the Greek words ergon and hodos, meaning ‘work’ and ‘path.’ In ergodic literature, nontrivial effort is required to allow the reader to traverse the text

2.Cybertext (which he seems to have many different viewpoints on):

a.The concept of cybertext focuses on the mechanical organization of the text, by positing the intricacies of the medium as an
integral part of the literary exchange.(1)

b.A cybertext is a machine for the production of variety of expression.(3)

c.The cybertext reader is a player, a gambler; the cybertext is a game-world or world-game; it is possible to explore, get lost, and discover secret paths in these texts, not metaphorically, but through the topological structures of the textual machinery. (4)

d.Cybertext is a perspective I use to describe and explore the communicational strategies of dynamic texts.(5)

e. Cybertext, then, is not a “new,” “revolutionary” form of text, with capabilities only made possible through the invention of the digital computer. Neither is it a radical break with old-fashioned textuality, although it would be easy to make it appear so. Cybertext is a perspective on all forms of textuality, a way to expand the scope of literary studies to include phenomena that today are perceived as outside of, or marginalized by, the field of literature-or even in opposition to it, for (as I make clear later) purely extraneous reasons. (18)

f.A cybertext must contain some kind of information feedback loop. (19)

g.[Cybertext] is the wide range (or perspective) of possible textualities of seen as a typology of machines, as various kinds of literary communication systems where the functional differences among the mechanical parts play a defining role in determining the aesthetic process.(22)

Many of these literary concepts were new and difficult for me to grasp. I thought about his use of ergodic as it seem to be a macro concept with a broad interpretation — a path that is traversed by readers — as cybertext seems to be more like a micro concept with many interpretations and usages throughout the book.

What I struggle the most with is how evolution from my perspective naturally changes the face of literature (or anything for that matter) over time. The author points out Egyptian hieroglyphs, poems, books, hypertext, adventure games, etc. The natural progression from symbol communication forms, to written, to computer aided seem more like logical progressions as we advance in form as a species. I am not sure why we need to distinguish the progression to so many granual levels>> ergodic|cybertext|hypertext>> and so on…in the understanding and power of literature or the written word. Why the need to distinguish this form of literature as so different? That is what I look forward to hearing more about in class, maybe then I can have a better appreciation for the subject matter as whole.