Anthropomorphizing the Spud: A tale of Mr. Potato Head

I found the notion from Deluze and Guattari with regards to causing one thing to be like the other to be very interesting.  The notion that a work horse is more like an Ox than a racehorse seemed to especially clarify this point.  However, the idea that one can become more like a horse when they wear blinders and put boots on their hands was very interesting to me.  And it seems then that the deduction came down to knowing what something can do.  I find some resistance in myself to these things. 

This is where our friend the spud comes in.  A lowly potato.  But, if you add eyes and other sensory organs which Uexkull so thoroughly describes you have a Mr. Potato head.  Not quite spud, not quite (or at all) human.  But, as a child I always rather assumed that creatures could see (and perceive) the same way that I do (did).  And I assumed that their sensors (fingers, eyes, and other organs) were at least equal or the same as my own.

If we put a spinning blade on top of Mr. Potato head would he be more lawnmower than anthropomorphized tuber?  It seems that Uexkull would think so.  This seems an interesting logic, and he does a tremendous job of backing it up throughout the body of his text citing numerous examples from magpie to cats.  But the question, when does the potato become Mr.?  When it can do something?  It seems to me that the best that Mr. P could hope for is to be a sort of entertainment.  Because, aside from a paper weight (and several more entertaining alternatives) his purpose is somewhat limited.  But, certainly we would not want to degrade a spud. 

Interestingly leading from this Mr. P seems to have a lot of differences between a real spud and his new plastic high-fangled body.  While the original Mr. Potato heads were just appendages (sensors?!?) that you could put on to a potato, the newer ones are plastic.  But, a real potato, while it does not necessarily have a function (aside from growing more potato’s and perhaps serving as food for humans or bacteria [or both!]) can certainly be manipulated to be served a number of different ways and even have several uses.  As I have come to understand linking potato’s together  can form an electrical charge?  But, Mr. Potato head alas has no such charge.

It seems like an over simplification to reduce things to a series of signals and responses.  Though, if you dig in, the series of signals and responses (the functional cycle) can become so detailed as to be overwhelming.  Interestingly, when Uexkull describes the series of actions taken by the tick (50)  he mentions that first there is “collision” then “butyric acid” and then, finally, “warmth” (50).  It seems unlikely to me (but, I’m not zoologist…or biophilosopher) to think that the sensation of butyric acid ceases to be in effect when the tick receives the signal of “warmth”.  But, I am not aware of the capabilities a tick has for receiving multiple stimuli.  However, this does lead me to considering how many stimuli our anthropomorphized friend, Mr. Potato Head can feel.  …zero?

The Viral Umwelt

 Jakob von Uexkull writes in his book A Stroll Through the Worlds of Animals and Men about the “Umwelt” or the idea that all living creatures exist in their own individualized worlds of perception and the only the factors that contribute to this perception are those things which are “carriers of significance”. He uses the example of a tick to discuss how this particular creature has only three things in its Umwelt which are of any significance. Uexkull goes on to discuss how a creatures perception of one of these objects of significance can be influenced by the creatures interaction with the object. He writes, “since all of the traits of an object are structurally interconnected, the traits given operational meaning must affect those bearing perceptual meaning through the object, and so change the object itself”. So in a sense a creature’s (or human’s) Umwelt is to a large degree influenced by the interactions that an individual has with his or her “carriers of significance” because it is this very interaction which contributes to their perception of them.

Uexkull’s concept of operational meaning affecting perceptual meaning can be seen in an analysis of this viral YouTube video that my father in law showed me over Christmas break.  In this video, the object of the dead squirrel (perceptual meaning) is influenced by the operational meaning that the little girl grants it by picking it up and petting it much in the same way she would a stuffed animal. If you continue watching, you can see a perfect example of the Umwelt in the mother’s reaction when she stumbles upon the situation and covers her mouth. Unlike the little girl, the mother does not see an innocent play toy but perhaps the potential judgment that could befall a parent that lets her child play with dead animals. Thus the object or carrier of significance of the dead squirrel is granted an alternate operational meaning by both the little girl and the mother which in turn affects their perceptual meaning of the object as a play thing and a potential object of judgment, respectively. However, this could also work the other way around with the perceptual meaning of the object influencing the operational meaning of the subject. For example, if the squirrel were alive and willing to be in the proximity of the little girl she may attempt to play with it but the operational meaning she grants to the live squirrel would be much different. She would probably spend more time coaxing the squirrel to come close to her and it is unlikely that she would be able to pick it up and moves its head up and down like she does in the video.

Moving beyond the content of the video itself and considering the idea of the “viral video” in light of Uexkull’s theory of the Umwelt, it seems that in this case there is a more collective “carrier of significance” brought about by the object of the dead squirrel. Judging from a few of the comments, it would appear that many people are drawn to the significance of the two parents standing by while their daughter plays with a dead wild animal instead of taking the animal way immediately. A parental umwelt in this case is a field of perception that focuses mainly on the parents; however, is it only parents that contributed to the 3 million plus hits for this video? What are other possible Umwelts that other demographics may have been drawn to in this video? Perhaps the fascination at childhood innocence in the girl not being disgusted by a dead squirrel but on the contrary becoming fixated with it? Or perhaps the mere fact that the video was “viral” or popular drew people to its significance. Their Umwelt in this case would simply be viral videos and the actual content is immaterial since it is simply the “viral”-ness that they are drawn to.

Sensory Meaning in the Expanding World(s)

When I took my first look at Jakob von Uexküll on Wikipedia prior to reading A Foray into the World of Animals and Humans, I wondered why on earth we would be reading a work by an Estonian biologist who specialized in the field of muscular biology.  However, as I became more familiar with Uexküll’s notion of umwelt—his idea that even though we share the same environment, every organism lives in its own self-centered world—I realized how much new media plays into each of our own little “self-centered” worlds.  Usually we find it difficult to liken ourselves to the “lesser” creatures of the earth, like the ticks, bees, flies, birds, and urchins that Uexküll discusses, but he studies them as subjects, like us, rather than as machines or mechanisms.  Beginning with the simple life of the tick, Uexküll shows his reader through careful observations how we can come to understand how a particular animal experiences the world.  Most importantly, he details a new way of looking at the world, worlds actually, through the one “environment” and the many overlapping points of view that occur within it.

I have very often been within the same room or space as a bee (and other insects, but of course I am hyperaware of that bee), and the bee is almost always banging herself against the window or walking across the glass.  While I always knew the bee was just trying to get back outside, Uexküll’s short account of the bee makes this scenario clearer than ever.  The bee in my house does not know my world, she does not experience it as I do, and she most certainly does not see it as I do.  In the world of bees, “[r]elations of meaning are…the only certain guides in the investigation of environments” (84), and when those meaningful things (the shape of a bloom, its color, the temperature of the outdoors, the smell) are closed off from her, say, in my living room, she becomes an object in my world rather than the subject of her own.  All the things that gave her life any type of meaning are gone, and she is desperately (please excuse my anthropomorphizing here) trying to return to the world she knows.

A subject’s world is made up of sensory objects, right?  The tick responds to a smell, a touch, and a temperature, while a human would respond to the whole meadow.  The sea urchin responds to the darkening horizon, while a human would respond to the cloud, the boat, or the fish that might be causing the darkness.  I am beginning to wonder about objects that are not sensory and how those play into our worlds.  For example, someone with a hallucinogenic disorder like schizophrenia may imagine an entire person—appearance, personality, speech, everything—and that imagined person would not be part of our unified environment like the sun or a boat would be, but rather a unique part of that someone’s world.  The disordered person would perceive and react to this “outer perception-sign” as if it were real.  I’m not sure what to make of that.  Even further, what do we make of human emotional feelings? Of the Internet as a vast collection of perception-signs?  Of a book that exists but that only one person has read?  I am beginning to see the importance of Uexküll’s Foray to our class, as new media has added a level of abundant richness to our lives, expanding each of our individual worlds in a way that has the potential to tie them closer together or drive them further apart.

Soviet Invasion of the Estonian Umwelt

     Reading Uexküll I was struck by how anti-behaviorist in tone A Stroll Through the Worlds of Animals and Men: A Picture Book of Invisible Worlds was, and because of this I became curious as to how Pavlov’s famous behavioral theory was perceived in Uexküll’s own umwelt.  As Giorgio Agamban point’s out in The Open: Man and Animal, Uexküll was at one time a prominent and wealthy figure in Estonian society, one that would have likely been involved in the politics of his state and very concerned with the rival ideas being produced by foreign counterparts (39).  The fact that Uexküll was “ruined by the First World War” (39) seems to be a further indication that the man was on somewhat tenuous political ground around the same time that A Stroll was published.  This was a period in which Uexküll had expatriated to the island of Capri, which is off the coast of Italy, and this last of his family’s properties allowed him safe haven from the encroaching Soviet Russian forces that were bombarding the Estonian borders before, during, and after WWI.  In fact, in 1940, Russia did gain control of Estonia in an alliance with WWII Germany, and I am suggesting that Uexküll’s work is a direct retaliation against invading Soviet ideology in the form of a response to Pavlov’s behaviorism. 

          

      Ivan Pavlov was born in Russia, and though he himself was a vocal decrier of Soviet Russia’s brand of communism, his ideas about the human condition, and more specifically psychological conditioning resonate within the early twentieth century Russian zeitgeist.  For instance, Pavlov was often criticized for the violently cruel nature of his experiments on animals, and the Pavlovian method fit in perfectly with a decidedly violent Leninist or Stalinist type of mindset.  Pavlov was a contemporary of Uexküll’s, and most likely a known rival.  Consider the title of the paper read by Pavlov to explain the findings of his experiments on animal conditioning: The Experimental Psychology and the Psychopathology of Animals (1921).  Uexküll’s corresponding A Stroll Through the Worlds of Animals and Men compliments Pavlov’s earlier title interestingly enough doesn’t it?  The Estonian writer immediately takes a much more passive stance on his material by interpellating A Stroll Through the Worlds for the much more imposing and aggressive The Experimental Psychology and Psychopathology of, and then by adding Men to Pavlov’s Animals Uexküll cleverly brings the aggressive male ego down to the level of the animal experience.  And all within the title… 

          
       Uexküll tells the reader from the outset that his is a theory in opposition with the aforementioned Behaviorist standpoints, but I do not think that the political motivations behind this move are entirely clear with a reading of Uexküll alone.  He would have ten years to analyze Pavlov’s findings, and an island-side view of how the Pavlovian movement took hold of Russian psychology in so many interesting ways.  I think there are clearly traces of political undertones coursing through A Stroll and am as of yet undecided what to make of Uexküll’s work.

Perception Image and Effect Image

In A Foray Into the Worlds of Animals and Humans, Jakob von Uexkull explores the subjective nature of perception by detailing the ways that various species and groups of people often perceive time and space differently.  The section entitled “Perception Image and Effect Image” not only speaks to the various ways that the environment may be interpreted but also suggests the conventional nature of how humans view and use various objects.  Detailing an experience with an African man who apparently had little experience with “European tools,” Uexkull shares with readers the confusion this African man faced when confronted with a ladder.  Unaware that it was a tool used for climbing, the African merely viewed the object as “bars and holes” (94).  Once this man saw how the device is commonly used, he was able to follow his example.  According to Uexkull, “From then on, the sensorily given “bars and holes” took on a “climbing tone” for him and were recognized in all classes as a ladder.  The perception image of bars and holes has been complemented by the effect image.  Through this, it acquired a new meaning…” (94).  This anecdote not only demonstrates varying perceptions among different groups of people but also the ways in which objects garner meaning based on social conventions.

Uexkull describes how an image and its cultural function are often merged in such a way that a new meaning if formed and this explanation can be applied to various cultural phenomena.  Much as the series of bars and holes eventually came to denote a climbing tool, long white dresses signify the institution of marriage (and the accompanying patriarchal culture) to much of Western society.  While a white piece of fabric does not naturally suggest that it should be worn by a woman in during a ceremony in which she legally and often religiously unites with a man, social conventions dictate these connotations.  As the traditional wedding ceremony developed and became an ideal for many in Western culture, the white dress was a staple in this ceremony and has since virtually become a metonym for the actual institution.  When many people in Western culture see the “perception image” of the white dress they not only perceive a piece of formal wear, but the image actually conjures thoughts of heterosexual marriage.  Like the perception image of a series of holes and bars connected with the European tool known as ladder, the perception image of white dress has developed in such a way that it is accompanied by the effect image of a woman walking down an aisle to meet her future husband.  In both of these instances, the Western/European hierarchy of knowledge dictates that the Western notions of utility, or effect, ultimately attain the power to imbue cultural artifacts with meaning.  The fact that the perception and effect of this image are so often conflated suggests that many people do not consider the degree to which images and, further, all cultural objects, are actually conventions created through this process detailed by Uexkull. 

On the surface, white dresses signify marriage, however Uexkull’s explanation of perception and effect images allows us to uncover how this meaning was created and the ways in which these pairings come into existence.  Although Uexkull does not go as far as suggesting the problematic nature of the conventionally inherent in this collusion of perception and effect imagery, the very fact that he traces this union allows readers to understand the development of cultural signs.  This unearthing of conventionality permits an understanding that the meaning of signs varies because visual perception and effect must combine to create this significance.  While the visual perception of objects may be similar among most humans, the effect can vary greatly by culture and this discrepancy demonstrates that perception is ultimately subjective and often dictated by social conventions.

Thinking of the Web in the Context of Environment Spaces

We are all ticks, an odd, highly-intelligent species of ticks with eyes, brown, blue, green, hazel, glaucoma-hazed or bloodshot, when we're on the Web doing who knows what, all of us sniffing out our personal form of butyric acid. On the Web, depending on our respective reasons for being there, here, we traverse the plane between an existence as a simple animal, at least as simple as a human browsing the Web can appear to be, and a multiform animal. If we want to use the Web to check the score of the Clemson versus Wake Forest basketball game, we're simple animals on a no-brain, caveman-like quest for water, which is just outside of our caves because it's raining. We open our browsers and the home page is Yahoo.com, which has a link to sports that allows us to easily find the water from the sky that immediately quenches our thirst. (We discover, to our delight, that our beloved Tigers have won again!) With our tongues wet, we click on the "X" in the top-right corner of the screen and move on to something else. In such a case, the Web is a simple environment that produces only what we're after and we can be ticks with eyes and do what we need to do with our eyes closed. All the other information that makes the Web a complex space--the real news, gossip about celebrities, politics, the horoscopes--is all but ignored. On other occasions, a trip to the Web can turn us into multiform animals. When we are on the Web to research academic articles, we are wide-eyed ticks who are doing more than browsing. We are digging for specific articles. The environment of the Web is saturated with more information and sometimes we are frustrated because there isn't quite enough information. We still go through the process of perceiving butyric acid (articles that appear to be promising), but the prospects on whose backs we pounce increase because we are actively foraging as opposed to waiting, like our simple, eyeless, eight-legged, blood-sucking counterparts.

The Web as an environment space is a commodity that has been branded and the architects of the Web are going through great pains and reaping great rewards to ensure that users can have a great degree control of their environments so that the content that's useful to the users can be more accessible through personalization. The search for butyric acid is easier to come by if the home page of your favorite Web browser is modified to include links to your most frequent Web destinations.

Speaking of this home page... The home page is the orientation point of Web browsing. It's the branch on which the tick waits in a death-like state for as long as eighteen years to mount its attack. Every Web browser, whether it's Internet Explorer, Google Chrome or Firefox has a setting that allows the user to choose a home page that will appear whenever the browser is opened. The user starts at the home page and goes off to fetch information from this page and that page, often returning to the home page in between trips out into the Web, like birds retrieving food or materials for building a nest. There's no need for one to question how to return to the home page because there's a soft button shaped like a house on which the user can click that takes them immediately home. No line of bread crumbs or rope tied to the ankle and a rock at the entrance of the cave are needed.

With the example of the Web as a space and us as either simpletons or high-minded primates making environments out of it, we should easily be able to associate with what the tick and other animals have done to survive. They have their stimuli, as do we. Our respective Web environments include our stimuli. A tick's environment is a little different than a spider's or a jackdaw's. Your Web environment is different than mine. Would you like to compare browsing histories?

Nature, with a capital N

Throughout A Foray Into the Worlds of Animals and Humans, Uexkull chronicles the differences between organisms, singular to multicellular, levels of perception. All the while, he attempts to maintain a purely biological stance with regards to the functionality of each individual species. He warns against the application of anthropomorphism upon the animals he discusses, because doing so will give the reader a misconception that the world inhabitants possess human agency, what he discusses in the “goal and plan” theory. With a series of experiments meant to draw attention to the biological reasons one might attribute human-like characteristics to an animal, Uexkull is able to eradicate for instance, the “motherly” attending of a hen to her chick in trouble. Proving that sound perception is the reason a hen would react to her offspring in such a way, Uexkull continues to implore the cessation of “the will-o’-the-wisp of the goal in our observation of environments” (86).

However, this is easier said than done. Contemporary cultures, particularly with types of media, primarily books and film, perpetuate the notion that animals are capable of feeling and have a will and moral conscience. Take for instance, Disney’s The Lion King.

best. movie. ever.

Let me be the first to admit, this movie has me in tears every single time I watch it. Why? Because I feel for the characters because they feel just the way I do. They struggle with loneliness, anger, love, displacement, and the general pains of non-belonging. On an even more basic level, over and over again I willingly suspend my disbelief to fully believe that Simba, the adolescent angst-ridden orphaned lion, won’t gobble up Timon (meerkat) and Pumba (warthog) for a tasty snack before he claims his rightful spot as king of the jungle.

sadly this.

not this. hakuna matata?

Uexkull would not be pleased with the abundance of ways in which media culture confuses instincts, biologically determined behaviors and emotion. Giogio Agamben points out how easy it would have been for Uexkull to continue with the tick’s behavioral analysis and mistakenly comment about how the “tick loves the taste of the blood, or that she at least possesses a sense to perceive its flavor” (Agamben 46).

Clearly, the overall goal of Uexkull’s work is to indicate that the world in which we live should not be confused with the way we humans live. In a much more complex way, the message of his work indicates a “to each, their own” mentality. Subjectivity on individual scales is the way the world functions. Perception, time and space interact differently depending on the subject, and it is the subject which constitutes what that might be. This applies to interaction even more intricate than division between different species. Instead, differing sensations occur between members of the same species. No living thing perceives the exact same as another.

However, a continuing theme throughout Uexkull’s work is troubling to his theory of individual subjectivity and non-anthropomorphism. He constantly uses the term “Nature,” with a capital “N.” Uexkull repeatedly names this entity as functioning in a perfect way, according to its grand plan. “The life of the tick” he quotes, “…is led purely according to Nature’s plan” (Uexkull 86). He continues to theorize that “perhaps certain acts of the highest mammals will turn out to be goal-oriented actions which themselves are part of Nature’s overall plan” (86). So what constitutes a “highest mammal?” I fear exploring this would turn into a whole new object lesson, so for now that is to be continued. Uexkull escapes without ever defining what he believes Nature truly entails. From the way he uses it, it indicates a belief that the environments, and all the little subjective beings living within it, coexist with and for one another. It also indicates a subtle anthropomorphic mentality. Nature is the puppet master controlling the ways in which creatures great and small interact, always present to right the path when it veers off course.

This calls to mind another Lion King reference. The world order is thrown off kilter when Scar (Simba’s villainous uncle) kills Mufasa (Simba’s father) and claims his place at the top of the food chain.

Scar's posse.

The movie progresses, the Pridelands become a barren land where the grass can’t grow and insects can’t feed which means the bug eaters die, etc…etc… Good news though: The magical forces of Nature, with a capital N, intervene to nudge and inspire Simba to set his world back according to the ultimate plan. The visuals are reinforced by the theme song “Circle of Life.” The message is this: great and small, we all have our place to contribute to the working world order to produce harmonious interactions with a bit of give and take. Once again, “Nature” acts as the controlling agent, making sure the cycle maintains the status quo.

boom. order restored.

It is not Only that Flies Perceive Differently Than Humans

Early on in A Foray into the Worlds of Animals and Humans Jakob von Uexkull reveals that time is not an objective mechanism of nature, but rather a subjective construct that is perceived differently by both a variety of species and individuals within those species. His first example is humans, who construct their televised realities in “real-time”, or rather at the exact speed that we imagine our world is moving. This becomes what we think of as objective time, but Uexkull’s examination of time reveals that different animals perceive time differently. One example is the snail, whose perception of time is much faster than human perception. This difference in perception between species ultimately leads Uexkull to realize that time and space are subjective experiences rather than objective ones. Von Uexkull concludes his A Foray into the Worlds of Animals and Humans with the observation “the environments of a researcher of airwaves and of a musicologist show the same opposition. In one, there are only waves, in the other, only tones. Both are equally real. And on it goes in this way” (135).  It is a reaffirmation of his thesis that the world—as perceived by any living being—is subjective. Indeed, even time and space become subjective because they cannot exist without the subject. Yet, these subjectivities are not unreal or delusional, instead they are what create reality.

When trying to understand this I think of the story of photography becoming an art. When the camera was first invented it was believed to capture the objective world. It was a tool for documentation, and those who took photographs were excluded from the artistic. It became an art when people began to recognize that a photograph was subjective rather than objective. What a photographer chose as her/his subject, and how he/she chose to depict the subject could hardly be called objective because of what was left out and what was left in. A camera cannot take the whole picture, it is limited, and those limitations provide infinite possibilities for variety that open photography up to subjectivity. The recognition of the camera as a tool--that could be used for more than simply pointing, shooting, and documenting--was what transformed photography into an art.

What connects these two topics is that both are still based in a reality—the reality simply becomes a subjective reality instead of an objective reality, which is something that is difficult to understand in a society that privileges “objective truth", and often ignores the possibility of “subjective truth”. Art, perhaps, is where “subjective truth” is most commonly accepted, thus, it is easy to see the relationship between the subjective truth of individuals and species as compared to the subjective truth of photography.

The comparison goes further, however, because both the different perceptions of time and the different perceptions of an object in photography are based in reality, which is to say neither is a delusion, but simply another way of perceiving what is there. Thus, the different eiffel tower images that I have placed between each paragraph. The first looks like what we like to think of as a fairly objective depiction of an object. It shows the whole structure of the eiffel tower, and it is real; the tower is there and it looks like that in some ways. The next picture is angled, it more clearly demonstrates a particular perspective, and certainly creates a distortion of perspective that creates a sense of subjectivity. It is still a photograph of something that exists, however. It is the same structure simply seen a different way. The next is the same structure, seen another way. And when one travels to see the eiffel tower, the truly striking thing is to realize that each of these pictures is the eiffel tower seen through someone else's eyes. I was shocked when I saw the eiffel tower and it was nothing like what I expected, and at the same time so much like what I had seen. I grew up inundated with pictures, keychains, posters, drawings. The eiffel tower is everywhere, but each of the depictions is subjective. I see a keychain and it is someone's vision of the eiffel tower. It does not show me what I will see, but I see the echoes and similarities, so that it is impossible for me to say that the eiffel tower keychain was one capitalist's hallucination of the eiffel tower. And what I see is probably completely different from what each individual--in the crowd of people there--saw. Just as the researcher of airwaves and the musicologist observe the same environment differently, I am sure I observed the eiffel tower in a way that was different, but not incorrect, since there would appear to be no correct or incorrect way. The snail would see the eiffel tower in another way, no doubt. It is a way that would be no less correct, but probably very different. If only the snail could work a camera, to show us what it is that he sees. It would be a work of art in its subjectivity, but also a documentation of what a particular snail saw. But then more pictures by snails would become necessary, to understand that each has a distinct perspective in the same way the researcher of airwaves and the musicologist do.

As I sit and contemplate the different photographs that any number of the animals--whose perspective Uexkull details--might take, and how each species would require a number of photographers since one would reveal nothing but an individual perspective, I still feel a little overwhelmed by the realization that it is not only that flies perceive differently than humans, but that flies perceive differently from one fly to the next. 

Musical Perception

Giorgio Agamben's The Open: Man and Animal illustrated and explained certain concepts that originally derived from Jakob von Uexküll's book A Foray into the Worlds of Animals and Humans; yet it was written in such a way that gave new meaning for me and my understanding of Uexküll's words. Just from reading The Open, the phrases depicting music--something that I understand and relate to--jumped out at me.


Both men discuss the idea of perception within their works, particularly the perceptions that certain animals hold within the world and their environments. Depending on the animal's visual, effect, and environmental spaces (as well as general experiences), an everyday object becomes holds different meaning and possible utilization than it would to another animal, regardless of whether it belongs to the same species or not. Using the same example as Agamben, a forest is not "an objectively fixed environment," meaning that it is not one objective space that will never change. It gains a kind of fluidity depending on the animal or individual encountering it: "there exists a forest-for-the-park-ranger, a forest-for-the-hunter...a forest for-the-carpenter, and finally a fable forest in which Little Red Riding Hood loses her way" (41). In each of these cases, the forest becomes an environment, an objective space, that is different from one person to the next.


Agamben and Uexküll agree that there are "carriers of significance" that make the environment, or object within that environment, what it is perceived to be to the animal. There is a link between the animal and the external environment, and "everything happens as if the external carrier of significance and its receiver in the animal's body constituted two elements in a single musical score" (41). This means that although both elements, the carrier of significance in the external space as well as the animal's receiver, seem entirely exclusive, they veritably come together in one unit.


This made me think of music and the ways in which it captures and embodies these same ideas, only through a different outlet. Consider the following YouTube video as an example:

Both women are playing parts of the theme song from the video game Elder Scrolls Morrowind: Skyrim on two different instruments, the piano and the violin. Both instruments are different in their own ways, and so are the women playing them. The performers bring their own perceptions (and, of course, skill) to the music, for they have their own way of playing, and one will still perceive the music slightly different than the other, even though it is the same song. This comes from being different people as well as the transposition of the musical score for one instrument to another changes it slightly. Both instruments have different tone colors as well. Yet somehow, just like the animal recognizes certain signifiers in the environment around it, receiving them, even though both forces are different in space and perception, they come together to form a connection that is unified and harmonious. According to Agamben, both "the external carrier of significance and its receiver in the animal's body constituted two elements in a single musical score...though it is impossible to say how two such heterogeneous elements could ever have been so intimately connected" (41). In other words, both the external force that carries significance to the animal and the receiver are two separate, heterogeneous entities, yet they are still intimately connected somehow.

Both women are analogous to the animal, containing the ability to receive the external carrier of significance, which is analogous to their instruments. In other words, one woman perceives the piano differently than the other, and vice versa with the violin. Furthermore, each of the women are external forces to one another, carrying significance to the other person. They are, for the most part, playing separate parts of the same song, and with the combination of the two instruments/external carriers of significance, keeping their different skills and perceptions in consideration, they are still "equally perfect [in their own ways] and linked together...in a gigantic musical score" (40). Their separate elements combine, uniting harmoniously.