All Hail the Hypertext?

All Hail the Hypertext?

In the recent years text has jumped from the printed page over to the screen. Whether it is a novel, an encyclopedia or a magazine, the content can all be accessed by way of screen.  There are dozens of websites which entertain online content such as this as well as an even more recent form of online text, the hypertext. What is hypertext you may ask… and to be honest I had to ask the same thing. To define this mysterious word, hypertext (noun): a method of storing data through a computer program that allows a user to create and link fields of information at will and to retrieve the data nonsequentially. So basically, it’s the storage of data within a network. Author of several hypertexts, Shelley Jackson, views hypertext as more of an online novel or a dignified form of literature as opposed to plain data. In her project, “My body – a Wunderkammer,” Jackson describes her body, the story behind her scars (not just the physical ones,) and her deep emotions towards the human formation. The online story is filled with directional links, sound, graphics and utter confusion. How can literature be taken seriously if its environment draws readers away from the word and leaves them wandering through an array of links? Critic Katherine Hayles claims that hypertexts involve the reader at a higher level but I beg to differ. Due to their confusion, distraction and misdirection I believe that hypertexts such as “My body – a Wunderkammer” should not be considered literature nor should they be studied within the school environment. To borrow from Sven Birkerts, literature is “linear” with a direct path. How can a hypertext be literature if it only sends readers in a circle?

“My Body” begins with what looks like a table of contents but then sends readers into a dizzying array of words and pictures. I began by clicking on the link for hands, from hands I went to nose, then to hair, then back to hands. There was no clear order; I was more focused on trying to make sense of its organization than on the actual text itself. The links to go on to the next body part were located in random places within the text. Two sentences through learning about her hands was the link for nose. In cases like this the reader chooses to either keep reading about hands or go on to the next mysterious body part. The confusing set up seems to be symbolic of Shelley Jackson’s view point towards the human body. Jackson states that, “Hypertext doesn’t know where it’s going. It’s got no through-line. Like the body, it has no point to make, only clusters of intensities, and one cluster is as central as another, which is to say, not at all.” Here, she relates the pieces of the body to the pieces of a hypertext; each piece stands alone, independent of the other. While some people may enjoy this chaos that she has intertwined into “My Body,” I like organization. I want to read with no distraction, why should I have to choose where to go next? It is the author’s job to lead, not the readers.

As I began to closely look at Shelley Jackson’s online text the beginning was clear, there was a large click stating “BEGIN,” almost begging me to click it, but after that first click I had no idea where in the story I was. For the purpose of this online text, we’ll call each different screen a page. Within each one of these pages were several links would take me somewhere else, but where I was going I could not be sure. As I said before, I was going from hand to nose to hair, and then back to hands again, just one big circle that I couldn’t escape. There was no definite middle, nor a definite end. Everything about the text was so ambiguous that it drew my attention away from the words and focused it on everything but. A book is solid, you know when you’re nearing the end and excitement forms in the pit of your stomach. Online literature is like a ghost, how can we know it exists if we can’t see its form?  Katherine Hayles claims that, “The MINDBODY is engaged, not merely mind or body alone…material metaphors, for they control, direct, and amplify this traffic force between the physical actions the work calls for and structures and the imaginative world” (48). Hence, she feels that readers are more connected to the story when they are given the chance to interact with it on the screen. Instead of simply reading the story, they are choosing it and they are playing with it. Readers can better place themselves in the story when not only their mind but their body is involved. I completely disagree with Hayles point of view. I believe that we are less involved in the story when we must deal with the agitation of links and graphics and noise.

As much as I have disagreed with the opinions of Sven Birkerts in the past, in this case I believe that we have very similar ideas. He also believes that “Words read from a screen or written onto a screen- words with appear and disappear, even if they can be retrieved- have a different status and affect us differently from words held immobile on the accessible space of a page” (154). Words on a screen and words on a page are completely different. While many might argue that words are words and will have the same meaning no matter where they are located, I beg to differ. Words get lost on a screen, in the case of Jackson’s, “My body,” it’s impossible to intentionally go back to the “page” before; in fact it’s almost impossible to intentionally do anything. The surprise factor of the links on each page leave readers lost and confused within the story, a story that gets so lost that it might as well just be data. While it may seem like the reader has complete control of the text because he chooses where to go, maybe it can be argued that they have less control. If the reader can only move forward, do the words before even exist anymore?

But wait, am I being too skeptical? I realize that many people will agree with the views of Katherine Hayles, believing that hypertext’s allow readers to become so intensely involved in text that they get lost within it. That’s the whole point of reading a novel anyways right, to just get lost in it? A reader can easily become so absorbed in the navigational links located within “My Body” that they forget about the rest of the world. But, on the contrary the reader isn’t actually lost in the text; he’s lost in the environment. He’s lost in the links and the circles, in the data and in the ambiguity. How can this be considered real literature if all does is lose its readers to its own environment? Some may argue that “My Body” was not created to be literature, it was merely a project meant to be shared via the World Wide Web. After all, the text does include legitimate words and stories compiled into many parts. I recognize that this assumption is highly possible but we aren’t looking at Jackson’s intent right now or her story telling capabilities, we are more focused on the experience of reading the hypertext. Many of us can agree on the fact that multiple links and nonlinear paths distract us from the words and do not enhance our reading experience.

To take it a step further, let alone refer to this hypertext as literature, why would someone want to teach this in a school? Some believe that children will be more interested in reading if it’s seems fun and engaging. In response to that I wonder why children should need to be bribed to read using technology and the fun that comes with it. And if hypertext can be considered fun does that mean it is all just a game? If I had been introduced to reading hypertext as a child I probably would have decided that reading is distracting and confusing, less relaxing and more like work. Children should be exposed to bound books first, real literature in which they don’t have to worry about choosing their path of links.

Hypertext may just be defined as the storage of data but they offer much more than that. While they offer stories and descriptions they also offer distraction and confusion. The environment in which Jackson Shelley’s text, “My body – a Wunderkammer” is in draws readers away from the text and focuses their attention on the links and the style. Readers become lost when little or no direction is given by the author. Within a hypertext, reading instantly becomes more difficult than simply turning a page, readers must choose which links to follow and hope that they can make some sense of the information.  Literature is not data on a screen and links that take you in circles. It is a linear surface; a middle, a beginning and an end, it is solid and it is clear.

I pledge to have followed the Washington College Honor Code while writing this paper.

Within this essay I believe that I did a good job of setting up my argument. Although my opening paragraph is long, I think it thoroughly introduces readers to my thesis. One thing I could have improved upon, and would like to improve upon in the future is having a variety of sentence structures within the text.

Literature Cited:

Birkerts, Sven, The Gutenberg elegies: The fate of reading in an electronic age, New York: Faber and Faber, 1994

Hayles, Katherine, Writing Machines, Massachusetts: MIT press, 2002

Jackson, Shelley, Stitch Bitch: The Patchwork Girl, MIT communications forum, http://web.mit.edu/comm-forum/papers/jackson.html

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