Marginal canons (again...)

Brainstorming alert! I don't know why I haven't thought to place this caveat in any of my previous rambling posts, but maybe it's because I feel particularly unsure of what I'm driving at here. In any case, this is just a lot of spewage trying to make itself into a paper topic for cultural studies, so be forewarned.

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The Japanese radio program "Life" is creating a canon of books for the "cultural" intellectual. I'm getting interested in examining the audience-participative process of canonizing post-War Japanese cultural studies and related social sciences in which the program engages. As an unsponsored show, their main funding appears to come from the Amazon.com advertisements on the site and the book fairs they hold at some of Tokyo's "most storied/prestigious" bookstores (their words, not mine, though it was this desperation for legitimacy that was my eureka moment). More than just a way to pay the bills, creating a textual canon is a process of self-legitimization for 30s-50s (post-War) intellectuals who understand themselves as marginal and somehow adrift in a hard science and technology-driven world that devalues their insights and intellectual pursuits.

I see a potential (or is it inherent?) conflict in this canonization process. Defining a normative canon of texts and knowledge is an authority-forming activity that runs against their professed marginality. Do they seek to remain marginal even with a canon? Or is this a way of legitimizing themselves out of marginality? I guess I'm wondering if a "marginal canon" possible? And if so, what is the point? How does having a canon affect the mainstream?

And what of the audience participating in this project? They are involved in the virtual space of the show by reading the same texts as these on-air heroes, listening to the same music (that's another big part of the show), emailing and being read in the radio debates, listening not just to the live show but also the podcast, and catching the streaming online video. The multiple layers of and opportunities for cyber-intimacy and virtual community are no doubt the result of both conscious and unconscious decisions by the show's staff.

Life is hosted by Suzuki Kensuke, a 31-yo social scientist and former hikikomori. (Explanations of varying value here, here, and here.) Just this makes him a marginal figure, but liminality and marginality are all about power. The further from the center, the greater the leverage per unit.
"Charlie," as he is known on the show, is the "disciple" of Japanese social scientist Miyadai Shinji. More on him later. Anyway, Suzuki's use of "disciple" as opposed to "student" (which he was) to describe his position in relation to Miyadai suggests a return to more traditional master-disciple values—another strategy of legitimation?

The show invites us to view it from the inside out. A good example is the producer, Mr. Hasegawa. Though he is referred to as the kuromaku, he is eminently visible in many ways. Kuromaku was originally a theater term literally meaning "black curtain" but referring to the on-stage performers' assistants and stagehands who wear all black and hide their faces behind a black cloth mask. Though plainly visible on stage, we are to ignore/un-view them so long as their faces are covered. The term has been extended to mean someone pulling the strings from behind the scenes, and it is in this sense that Life describes its producer as such. The paradox here is how visible he is: there is no black curtain anywhere. Often, the whole show (podcasts only—clarification later)is just Hasegawa and Charlie talking about upcoming broadcasts and events. He is often called on during the show, and is never masked.

Streaming video is another good example because we really get to see the sausage being made. Audience emails are another strategy allowing us into the fold and allowing us to influence the content of the show. Though not on equal footing, we are participating in a more meaningful way than Youtube comments—perhaps more analogous to the videos themselves...?

In any case, my point is that creating a sense of physical (visual) connection to the space of the show is an important community-building strategy.

More later. If you (I?) can take it.