WHAT IS THE VALUE OF ASEMIC WRITING?
Asemic writing is writing without semantic content, that is, as the Greek word says, “without the smallest unit of meaning.” Like abstract painting, asemic writing is abstract, and any “meaning” is generated within the subjective field of the viewer. Asemic authors create myriad forms of writing that are deliberately empty of meaning, attempting to produce a “vacuum” of meaning that is then filled in by the viewer.
Why would an “author” do that? (see note below).
Asemic writing finds its home in literature, but it also finds itself considered an art form. Across various other categories of expression, it has become a global movement. It is a major question when producing an asemic work whether it is possible to create a work devoid of meaning. While the author’s intent is “no meaning,” the viewer's experience?particularly if something of the deeper psyche is triggered, will inevitably begin to fill the vacuum and this will be experienced as “meaning.” The asemic work is “created” as an art form, while the subjective response is “created” also. Is the subjective response (particularly if outside the conscious ego’s intention) also an art form?
It was this question I went to sleep with. In the morning, I woke out of the mist of sleep with the question: Are dreams asemic?
I’ll respond to this question in a later post. First, I must post a piece on how my mind recently has been taken up with the idea of favorites. I will do that shortly and try to articulate the relationship between “favorites” and asemic writing/art.
NOTE: A useful exposure to the forms, history, and current developments in asemic writing is available in Wikipedia under the title, “asemic writing.”
June 1, 2024
Russ,
What a fascinating question: Whether dreams are asemic or not? How about both? Yes and
no? Looking forward to reading what you come up with.
Meanwhile, I am wondering whether there may be an asemic assumption “built in” to the
prejudicial idea that only humans can write. I don’t KNOW that for a fact, but as I mull over
your post, I am reminded of one of several powerful HERON DREAMS I had over the years.
I want to tell that dream here, in case it will give us more to speculate on the question of
“animal speech.” I have long since thought that animals, especially birds and mammals, have
languages. This dream dates from at least half a century ago:
SPEECH OF THE SWALLOWS DREAM
I see two swallows sitting on the “telephone” wires running into my Blue Heron Foundry
building. [In actuality, at the time of the dream in the late 1970s or early 1980s, there were
two telephone cables running into the foundry building.] The swallows are chattering away,
the way swallows do. I realize that I can understand the speech of the swallows. I know what
they are saying. Furthermore, I can see the swallow-words spelled out in high relief. The
birds have their own archaic vocabulary. It corresponds to no human alphabet. What amazes
me is that the speech of the swallows is rendered in a never-before-seen alphabet, each letter
carved out of solid blocks of hard stone, like basalt. The “letters” are all about 30ft. to 40 ft.
high. It is an ancient alphabet that far pre-dates the earliest human alphabets (like
cuneiform, hieroglyphics, Hebrew, etc.)
I am stunned to realize that I can understand what the swallows are saying, in English
translation. I can also see, in the dream, the graphic representation of the “swallows’
alphabet.” I realize that I can understand both the “stone-carved original letters” and the
English translations thereof. As I begin approaching the waking state, I try to decide which
image I will carry into consciousness with me. When I wake up, I can no longer remember or
visualize what the 40-ft. stone letters are, nor can I remember the English translation. [End of
dream.]
The implicit idea in that dream was clear: Swallows—and therefore other birds and
animals—have their own forms of speech, which apparently involves having their own
“alphabets.” Would it be, perhaps, an “asemic alphabet”?
Did the tiny swallows themselves—Masters of Graceful Flight and Beauty, sacred to the
ancient love-goddess Aphrodite—carve the monstrous-sized letters in stone? If not, then just
who did carve them? I admit, I have no trouble at all assigning formidable powers to those
sacred birds. But the sheer size of the letters, and the obdurate material of their realization, set
me back on my heels in amazement.