The Tree of Knowledge: Binary Oppositions

 

"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. 

“For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will 

be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."

                                                                      (Genesis 3: 4-5)

            The word “blue” can only mean ‘blue’ if there is also not-blue.  The word “good,” anticipates and implies that “evil” exists; “male,” “female,”; “day,” “night,” and so on with every word.  Language, by nature, separates. Paired binary oppositions, relying on each other for meaning, are called “binary oppositions.” To know, by some philosophical perspectives, is ‘to have words for.’  In this light, Adam and Eve’s eating of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil was the moment they acquired language.

            Linguists Ferdinand de Saussure and Jacques Derrida wrote extensively on this dynamic, showing that language “privileges” or gives "dominance" to one of each pair.  Using a numerical analogy, we would then have the privileged, dominant word as numerator and the subordinate word as denominator:

good         male           day

evil           female        night

           

            Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein wrote, “To imagine a language is to imagine a form of life.” Binary oppositions, as all words do, embody the history of how they were used, including the prejudices and power struggles of those who used and use them.  Notice that “male” is favored over “female” in too many languages; and “good,” assumes a common or dominant view of what “good” means. Even though, for some, day is a dangerous time, and night, as for nocturnal animals, a refuge, English privileges “day” over “night.” Here is another pair that often, insidiously, reinforces destructive prejudices:   

                                                                white

                                                                black

The expression “it’s not all black and white” normally assumes “black” to be negative and “white” positive.  In her book White Women Writing White, R. Curry shows that, for example, Sylvia Plath regularly uses the image of blackness to depict evil.  In our racially rich and diverse world, we cannot afford to reinforce in our daily language the hegemony of white people over people of color. It behooves us to become aware of these patterns and to both undermine and abandon them. A long time ago I abandoned using the word “black” pejoratively in contrast to “white.”  Instead, I prefer the neutral “it’s not one extreme or another.”

            Traditionally, literature was interpreted through a standard identification of conflicts. Note the gender bias:

                        Man against Himself

                        Man against Man

                        Man against Society

                        Man against Nature

                        Man against Machine

                        Man against Fate

                        Man against the Supernatural

These are much too general and, at the same time, restrictive.  On the other hand, identifying binary oppositions to explore is a generative way to engage with and to interpret literature—inspiring surprising points of entry and creative perspectives.  We can clearly see how our language favors the numerator and decide to favor the denominator as our point of entry.

            Here, for example, is a core binary opposition cited by Derrida:

                                                            presence

                                                            absence

Let’s see how we can favor not what is present in the text of a piece of literature, but what is absent.  For example, in Bran Stoker’s Dracula, there is a scene in which three vampire women are descending on Jonathan Harker, an as-yet not undead protagonist, to sexually and hematologically ravage him. Dracula rushes into the room and says, “Get off him.  He’s mine!”  The text at this point goes blank.  When the words resume, we are off onto another topic.

            The absence of what might have happened between Dracula and Harker is significantly more evocative and tension producing in the reader, than any explicit scene might have been, and can produce more interesting interpretations that will then enliven the reading of the rest of the text. Hence, we privileged “absence” over “presence.”  Similarly, the absence of a mother in “Cinderella,” and in its structurally parallel King Lear, can provide us with new and textured interpretations to enliven of our readings of the works.

            The Bible, as popularly interpreted, creates this binary opposition,

                                                                 Adam

                                                                  Eve,

with Eve having all the denominators in the language attributed to her: Evil, instead of Good; Disobedient, instead of Obedient; Weak, instead of Strong; and more.  Let’s rehabilitate her, favor her over Adam, instead, as the one who was courageous and insightful enough to embrace language as our source of power and civilization.  Because of her, we left the paradise where survival was enough, to enjoy a world in which, through language, we can be co-creators of our lives.

            In another post, we will consider how we can use various critical perspectives to manage binary oppositions.  For now, next time you read a piece of literature, see a film, or experience a personally dramatic situation, name some binary oppositions you might use to interpret it.  Privilege the denominator as your source of power and meaning, and notice the freedom you enjoy, thereby.

                                                              Works Cited

Curry, R.. White Women Writing White: H.D., Elizabeth Bishop, Sylvia Plath, and Whiteness. Westport: Greenwood, 2000. 

Goltzius, Hendrik.  "The Fall of Man."  Painting frontispiece. 1616.

Stoker, Bram.  Dracula.  Ed. John Paul Riquelme.  Boston: Bedford, 2002.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig.  Philosophical Investigations. 4^th Ed. Indianapolis: Wiley-Blackwell, 2000.