This art icle was downloaded by: [ Dr Erin J. Rand]
On: 25 August 2013, At : 06: 33
Publisher: Rout ledge
I nform a Lt d Regist ered in England and Wales Regist ered Num ber: 1072954 Regist ered
office: Mort im er House, 37- 41 Mort im er St reet , London W1T 3JH, UK
Western Journal of Communication
Publicat ion det ails, including inst ruct ions for aut hors and
subscript ion informat ion:
ht t p:/ / www.t andfonline.com/ loi/ rwj c20
Queer Critical Rhetoric Bites Back
Erin J. Rand
a
a
Depart ment of Communicat ion and Rhet orical St udies , Syracuse
Universit y
To cite this article: Erin J. Rand (2013) Queer Crit ical Rhet oric Bit es Back, West ern Journal of
Communicat ion, 77:5, 533-537
To link to this article: ht t p:/ / dx.doi.org/ 10.1080/ 10570314.2013.799285
PLEASE SCROLL DOWN FOR ARTI CLE
Taylor & Francis m akes every effort t o ensure t he accuracy of all t he inform at ion ( t he
“ Cont ent ” ) cont ained in t he publicat ions on our plat form . However, Taylor & Francis,
our agent s, and our licensors m ake no represent at ions or warrant ies what soever as t o
t he accuracy, com plet eness, or suit abilit y for any purpose of t he Cont ent . Any opinions
and views expressed in t his publicat ion are t he opinions and views of t he aut hors,
and are not t he views of or endorsed by Taylor & Francis. The accuracy of t he Cont ent
should not be relied upon and should be independent ly verified wit h prim ary sources
of inform at ion. Taylor and Francis shall not be liable for any losses, act ions, claim s,
proceedings, dem ands, cost s, expenses, dam ages, and ot her liabilit ies what soever or
howsoever caused arising direct ly or indirect ly in connect ion wit h, in relat ion t o or arising
out of t he use of t he Cont ent .
This art icle m ay be used for research, t eaching, and privat e st udy purposes. Any
subst ant ial or syst em at ic reproduct ion, redist ribut ion, reselling, loan, sub- licensing,
syst em at ic supply, or dist ribut ion in any form t o anyone is expressly forbidden. Term s &
Condit ions of access and use can be found at ht t p: / / www.t andfonline.com / page/ t erm sand- condit ions
Western Journal of Communication
Vol. 77, No. 5, October–December 2013, pp. 533–537
Queer Critical Rhetoric Bites Back
Downloaded by [Dr Erin J. Rand] at 06:33 25 August 2013
Erin J. Rand
Queer critical rhetoric queers rhetorical theory, disrupting easy delineations of theory,
criticism, and the archive. Privileging the unpredictable innovation of queer movement,
queer critical rhetoric builds upon rhetorical traditions even as it challenges the normative
logics by which the rhetorical canon is assembled, preserved, and deployed.
Keywords: Archive; Critical Rhetoric; Queer; Rhetorical Theory
My approach to the question that drives this special issue takes a queer path. That
is, rather than coming at it head on, I want to move obliquely, suggesting that our
response to this inquiry ultimately depends on how we choose to define and enforce
theory’s penetrability, where we draw the boundaries of the criticism that critical
rhetoric can do, and how we understand the role of the archive in relation to both
theory and criticism. The phrasing of our prompt—‘‘What is the theory-building
obligation of critical rhetoric?’’—already presumes the separation of the critical from
the theoretical, wherein critical work may draw from, apply, and perhaps (‘‘perhaps’’
being the operative word) build upon existing theory. Thus, according to this formulation, practices of criticism may—and, depending on how we answer the question,
may even be obliged to—investigate or alter their own theoretical bases or the archives
from which they arise, but they do not necessarily or inherently do so.
In the interest of advocating for queer critical rhetoric’s crucial theoretical
implications, then, I suggest that how we delineate the proper terrains of theory,
criticism, and the archive can and does influence our perceptions of critical rhetoric’s
contributions to theory. I want to emphasize that the inclusions and exclusions of
theory, the separation of criticism from theory, and the maintenance of the contours
of the archive are never politically disinterested or neutral, but rather all serve
Erin J. Rand (PhD, University of Iowa) is an Assistant Professor of Communication and Rhetorical Studies at
Syracuse University. The author thanks Bill Eadie, Valerie Renegar, and all the forum participants for making
this conversation possible. Correspondence to: Erin J. Rand, Department of Communication and Rhetorical
Studies, Syracuse University, 100 Sims Hall, Bldg. V, Syracuse, NY 13244, USA. E-mail: ejrand@syr.edu
ISSN 1057-0314 (print)/ISSN 1745-1027 (online) # 2013 Western States Communication Association
DOI: 10.1080/10570314.2013.799285
Downloaded by [Dr Erin J. Rand] at 06:33 25 August 2013
534
E. J. Rand
normative functions for the field. And like all things normative, rhetorical theory
maintains its flexible and consistent power precisely by not announcing, and at times
by explicitly denying, its heteronormative foundations—by taking on the guise of the
noncontroversial, the nonpolitical, the self-evident. Thus, I propose that for queer
rhetorical scholars, the most pressing question may not be whether our work is
obligated to build theory, but whether the theory-building work of our critical
scholarship will be recognized as such. That is, can queer rhetorical studies appear
to the various gatekeepers of the field as making potentially radical theoretical interventions, or must it always be contained as ‘‘merely’’ queer criticism, caricatured by
the most hackneyed lamentations of homophobic discourse that are as self-evident as
they are easily ignored? And will the efforts of ‘‘archival queers’’ to transform and
redeploy the archive consistently be defanged when they are read as merely supplementing the limitations of the traditional canon (Morris, ‘‘Archival Queer’’ 147)?
This is not an apologia for a ‘‘pure’’ criticism that engages only in cultural critique,
with no responsibility to contribute to theoretical conversations in the field; nor is it
simply to claim that the critical and theoretical cannot or should not be distinguished.
Instead, I am suggesting that certain practices of queer critical rhetoric necessarily also
engage in theory-building. To turn the lens of one’s analysis toward those rhetors or
those discourses that traditionally have been excluded from serious rhetorical attention
or from which the queerness has been excised, is absolutely to make an intervention
that is both critical and theoretical. It is additionally to suggest that marginalization
is reproduced not just through our own cultural biases, but also through the norms
and standards of our field. As Karlyn Kohrs Campbell contended, ‘‘alternative critical
and theoretical frameworks’’ must be developed in order to account for the specific
characteristics of discourses that have been discounted (her examples are feminist
and Black protest rhetorics) within the dominant frame (51). In other words, queer
critical rhetoric might examine previously overlooked queer objects, but in doing
so, it also reveals the blind spots of analysis—both inadvertent and intentional—and
forces a recalibration of theories that previously have rendered such objects invisible,
inconsequential, or irrelevant. Importantly, such an approach has implications that
extend beyond queer scholars and queer scholarship to the most basic rhetorical theories
and tools of critical rhetoric. When we use those tools in a manner unforeseen or
to examine an object unexpected, we may find that the tool itself is also perpetually
transformed (read: bent, twisted, converted, recruited, revolutionized, queered) through
the encounter. This is the queering of theory.
But this is precisely the kind of intervention—where queer critical rhetoric not
only enables us to see an object in a new light, but also forces us to reconfigure
the very theory that had shaped our view in the first place—that is often denied to
queer work. We see queer scholarship labeled and institutionalized through conferences, panels, journals, coursework, etc. as a solely critical rather than theoretical
endeavor. For instance, the project of queer rhetorical studies is sometimes described
in terms of the recovery of queer voices, just as the project of feminist rhetorical
studies has been cast as the recovery of women’s voices, or Chicano=a studies or
African American studies as the recovery of the voices of people of color.1 Certainly,
Downloaded by [Dr Erin J. Rand] at 06:33 25 August 2013
Western Journal of Communication
535
recovery projects are crucially important, but what appears to be a benign—even
complimentary—description of their work can also function as a velvet-gloved
chokehold on their reach, allowing the rest of the field to continue blithely on with
(heteronormative) business as usual.2 Alyssa Samek and Theresa Donofrio, borrowing a term from Patricia Hill Collins, referred to the ‘‘symbolic inclusion’’ and containment of queer scholarship that occurs in the graduate classroom, when a mere
nod to issues of sexuality substitutes for a thorough engagement with the challenges
posed by a queer critique (38). They recalled learning about queer work, but not
being urged to adjust their own critical praxis to account for its insights; ‘‘under
the guise of inclusion,’’ they concluded, ‘‘we engaged in avoidance’’ (40–41).
Further, queer contributions to the expansion of the rhetorical archive are often
greeted with a kind of well-meaning but stubborn nonrecognition of the stakes of
recovery. By understanding the archive as a site only of representation—where what
matters is whether all voices are given space and time proportionate to their demographics—we neglect to consider the archive as a space also of invention, a space of
theory production (Biesecker, ‘‘Of Historicity’’ 124). As such, even the most ostensibly
welcoming and accessible of forums often enact a stunning willingness to miss the
point of queer rhetoric, to view its purpose as purely critical or its archival work as
merely additive, thereby taking the teeth out of what might be a radically queer torsion
of theory.3 The apparent warm embrace of difference in which this kind of dismissive
gesture is often cloaked, what Barbara Biesecker has referred to as the ‘‘affirmative
action agenda,’’ obscures the fact that queer inclusion in the rhetorical canon
is contingent on maintaining heteronormative structures of exclusion at the level of
theory (‘‘Coming to Terms’’ 143). It also casts those who would challenge its seeming
generosity as ungrateful, angry and argumentative, or too sensitive and critical.
Thus, as we consider queer critical rhetoric’s obligation to build theory, I want to
end by emphasizing the archive’s rhetorical nature, and the responsibility that we all
share in its assemblage and deployment. As Chuck Morris insisted, ‘‘Queer applications of consignation and genealogy are meant for rhetorical studies generally, not
merely for those engaged in queer critical labor; or, put differently, all critics should
be engaged in queer critical labor.’’ To do so, he suggested we ‘‘fan our wanderlust
and hit the road,’’ since ‘‘the archive’s promise as an inventional wellspring is
inextricably linked to queer movement’’ (‘‘Richard Halliburton’s Bearded Tales’’
141–42; ‘‘Archival Queer’’ 147–48). The particular form, quality, and direction of
queer movement is invigorated but not prescribed by the ‘‘(re)turn’’ to the archive.
For instance, Dan Brouwer asked how we might ‘‘do more than remember the AIDS
archive—how might we animate it, use it, participate in it?’’ and suggested that
building relations to archives activates them as ‘‘sources for invention and action
in the particular circumstances of our todays’’ (116). Similarly, Alexandra Juhasz
described ‘‘queer archive activism’’ as ‘‘a practice that adds love and hope to time
and technology’’ (326). For her, archival media is a means not just to remember
images of AIDS and activism, but to live pieces of the past in the present, to ‘‘relodge
those frozen memories in contemporary contexts so that they, and perhaps we, can be
reanimated’’ (320). Meanwhile, other scholars queer the archive through its
Downloaded by [Dr Erin J. Rand] at 06:33 25 August 2013
536
E. J. Rand
very logics of inclusion. For example, one of the innovations of Lauren Berlant’s Queen
of America is its analysis of the ‘‘silly objects’’ of everyday communication. As Marita
Sturken explained, this alternative archive redefines national citizenship, and Berlant’s
analysis ‘‘both takes these ‘silly’ objects seriously and deploys them as elements of a deep
critique of national culture’’ (361). Following Berlant’s lead, Judith Halberstam offered
a ‘‘silly archive’’ constructed of ‘‘the small, the inconsequential, the antimonumental,
the micro, the irrelevant’’ (21). These texts, Halberstam contended, ‘‘do not make us
better people or liberate us from the culture industry, but they might offer strange
and anticapitalist logics of being and acting and knowing, and they will harbor covert
and overt queer worlds’’ (20–21). Significantly, one’s course through this archive
is meandering and a bit off kilter; as Halberstam put it, ‘‘We will wander, improvise,
fall short, and move in circles. We will lose our way, our cars, our agenda, and possibly
our minds, but in losing we will find another way of making meaning . . . ’’ (25).
I offer this example of the silly archive not because I think it is the only or even
the most promising direction for queer rhetorical studies; rather, I suggest it because
it represents a peculiar kind of movement—not forward, exactly, and certainly not
straight ahead on a clear route, but movement into a place and time that is unfamiliar
and unforeseeable. It disrupts easy delineations of theory, criticism, and the archive,
and while it may build upon rhetorical traditions, it is disloyal to the preservation
of the rhetorical canon.
Acknowledging the bite of queer critical rhetoric, then, is to admit that queer
scholarship is less likely to act as a patch on rhetorical studies’ mantel of inclusivity,
and more likely to reveal the ‘‘remnants of alternative possibilities’’ that have been
violently cut out of the field’s past and present (Halberstam 19). To truly speak of
building theory through queer critical rhetoric means coming to terms not just with queer
objects or queer criticism, but with the unpredictable innovation of queer movement.
Notes
[1]
[2]
[3]
For one example relevant to this forum, see: Stephen John Hartnett’s ‘‘Communication,
Social Justice, and Joyful Commitment,’’ in Western Journal of Communication. To be sure,
Hartnett praises the efforts of scholars who have tried to ‘‘help readers to reimagine democracy by including forgotten or silenced voices in our national dialogue,’’ and he acknowledges that this project cannot be merely additive but must also ‘‘deconstruct existing
paradigms’’ and reconsider ‘‘what kinds of documents we consider as evidence and what
modes of analysis we use to address them’’ (77).
Unfortunately, recovery projects are also notoriously inept at dealing with intersectionality;
all too frequently the queer voices recovered are male, the women’s voices are middle class,
and the voices of people of color are straight. Thus, offering up a set of recovered voices to
correct for one kind of exclusion may inadvertently bolster another.
Another variation of this problem occurs when conference panels, edited collections, syllabi,
etc., are consistently organized in a manner that highlights queerness as a common topic but
undercuts the potentially wide-ranging interventions of queer scholarship by isolating it
from relevant theoretical conversations. Thus corralled (admittedly, amongst excellent company), queer scholars appear to be speaking only to one another, their insights seemingly
inconsequential to scholarship that does not explicitly engage discourses of sexuality.
Western Journal of Communication
537
As Samek and Donofrio explained, sometimes queer critical rhetoric is presented as just
another lens of analysis, thus ‘‘position[ing] the choice to ignore queer scholarship as one
of inventional preference.’’ The upshot of this ‘‘choice’’ is that ‘‘liberal scholars are able
to avoid doing queer work while disavowing the political nature of such avoidance’’ (47).
Downloaded by [Dr Erin J. Rand] at 06:33 25 August 2013
Works Cited
Berlant, Lauren. The Queen of America Goes to Washington City: Essays on Sex and Citizenship.
Durham: Duke University Press, 1997.
Biesecker, Barbara. ‘‘Coming to Terms with Recent Attempts to Write Women into the History of
Rhetoric.’’ Philosophy and Rhetoric 25.2 (1992): 140–61.
———. ‘‘Of Historicity, Rhetoric: The Archive as Scene of Invention.’’ Rhetoric and Public Affairs
9.1 (2006): 124–31.
Brouwer, Daniel C. ‘‘Activating the AIDS Archive.’’ Quarterly Journal of Speech 98.1 (2012): 109–17.
Campbell, Karlyn Kohrs. ‘‘Consciousness-Raising: Linking Theory, Criticism, and Practice.’’ RSQ:
Rhetoric Society Quarterly 32.1 (2002): 45–64.
Collins, Patricia Hill. Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of
Empowerment. New York: Routledge, 2009.
Halberstam, Judith. The Queer Art of Failure. Durham: Duke University Press, 2011.
Hartnett, Stephen John. ‘‘Communication, Social Justice, and Joyful Commitment.’’ Western
Journal of Communication 74.1 (2010): 68–93.
Juhasz, Alexandra. ‘‘Video Remains: Nostalgia, Technology, and Queer Archive Activism.’’ GLQ:
A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies 12.2 (2006): 319–28.
Morris, Charles E. III. ‘‘Archival Queer.’’ Rhetoric and Public Affairs 9.1 (2006): 145–51.
———. ‘‘Richard Halliburton’s Bearded Tales.’’ Quarterly Journal of Speech 95.2 (2009): 123–47.
Samek, Alyssa A., and Theresa A. Donofrio. ‘‘ ‘Academic Drag’ and the Performance of the Critical
Personae: An Exchange on Sexuality, Politics, and Identity in the Academy.’’ Women’s
Studies in Communication 36.1 (2013): 28–55.
Sturken, Marita. ‘‘Feeling the Nation, Mining the Archive: Reflections on Lauren Berlant’s Queen of
America.’’ Communication and Critical=Cultural Studies 9.4 (2012): 353–64.