Signs and Metaculture: "Sign" and the "Transcendental Signified"

First, “Sign”, perhaps the most common and complex term tossed about by modern literati. So commonly debated and utilized has the term been that even upon hearing “si-”, many professors merely roll their eyes, as if to say, “Oh no, not again!” Yet, while they may be sick and tired of opening that particular box of fury (and I am not learned enough to give a full-on discussion of its history), it is important to briefly address the nature of the sign and its implications for everyday communication and human interaction.

Very concisely, here is a simple description of the sign, as defined by Ferdinand de Saussure[1]:

1. The sign is the holistic representation of two parts—the signifier and the signified.
2. The signifier could be said to be the form of the sign, and the signified the concept.
3. To give an analogy, a sign is a painting; the signifiers are black, white, grey, and red watercolors; and the signified is a woman riding a horse.

There are many instances in which we interact with signs in daily life—traffic signs, advertisements, giving someone the thumbs-up. Each sign has its own meaning: a traffic sign is a directive, ordering you to stop, go, turn, etc; an advertisement (let’s take a KFC billboard as representative) is another form of directive—“eat my chicken”; the thumbs-up is a form of acknowledgement of past obligation: “you did a good job.”

More often than not, however, the experience we have with signs is in the form of verbal communication. In speech, the spoken word is the sign, the form of the word is the signifier, and the meaning of the word is the signified. Saussure gives the example of the sign: “arbor”, where the letters “a-r-b-o-r” comprise the signifier and the idea of ‘tree’ is the concept, or thing signified. Thus, in the phrase, “an arboreal recluse”, we understand it means “a hidden place with trees” only because we know that the sign “arbor” implies the meaning of ‘tree’.

All right, here are some problems associated with theories of signs:

1. If the spoken word, “arbor” brings to mind ‘tree’, the next question we have to ask is, what kind of tree? When you say arbor, am I thinking of a dead oak while you are thinking of a cluster of beautiful palm trees? The next step is that we must be more and more specific with our words—defining each and every word. Of course, the only way to define what we say is with other words, so we are caught in an everlasting circle of definition in order to understand each other.

2. Jacques Derrida discusses the problem of representation. The way that we have described the sign above involves representation: the signified is represented by the signifier. Representation, he says, has two ways of being understood: representation as describing/defining a thing or re-presentation as one thing standing in the place of/reproducing another. He shows the nature of signs to be representational, and as such to be contingent upon there being something to re-present. This he follows to the source of an object which represents itself and which “is present before the act of repetition” (“Speech and Phenomena” 13), that is, it exists before signs and is that which all other things are representations of. If all signs represent something else, then there must be something at the origin that cannot represent anything other than itself. As the primary thing which all others represent, it is the “transcendental signified”, that which takes no part in the other signifiers because of its transcendence. However, by asserting itself in the act of being, or in its presence (by being “re-presented”), it negates its own existence, since it, by nature, can never be represented (in the sense of definition) in the first place. Because it is transcendent and nothing can represent it but itself, then when the “transcendental signified” represents itself it is brought into the realm of things represented, which means that it is made present (which it cannot be by nature).

While there are more discussions, let us only address these two, as they are complicated enough. Problem (1) is based on the theory of signs being a social construct, centered on interaction between human beings. Essentially then, the difficulties become psychological incongruencies (psychological because the problem is associated with the concept of the signified in a person’s mind, whether the person who vocalizes the sign or one who hears it). Thus, if the sign is a social construct, then the most important part of the sign is the signifier and how the signifier is used. If the problem lies in the signifier, and not the signified, then it is with the signifier that human communication finds its meaning. For, we cannot (unlike some Sci-Fi characters) comprehend the unspoken psychological existences. And if the meaning of the sign lies in the proper communication of it within society (because a concept has no meaning if you can’t structure it in a particular form, even in your own mind, and it is meaningless without communication between beings) then primacy of the signifier rather than the signified in the human psyche becomes apparent.[2]

The main issue that I want to point out with Problem (1) is that, if the sign is a social construct, then it becomes entirely relative to the communicative abilities of those in the society. Take, for example, a child who says, “Ba!”, and the parents understand that to mean, “I want my bottle.” Naturally, if the child continues to grow, his social surroundings will inevitably change, and he cannot be allowed to continue the use of “ba” to mean “bottle.” Now let us look at another way of viewing signs and see if it helps any with combating the sign as an entirely social construct.

Briefly, Tolkien the philologist (following Barfield) taught that modern languages evolved from a common root language, a teaching that is very common in anthropological studies but at the time, the two were not considered different spheres in philology[3]. In tracing the common root language, Tolkien believed that one might find the origin of human communication. And, if “in the beginning was the Word”, and the Word is the apex of communication without verbal effort, then the beginning language must be a social manifestation (though tainted) of the transcendental Word beyond. It was Tolkien’s philological desire to romanticize the languages of human races and find the traces of their common origin in their ancient communication. We might call this theory of language, centered upon the Logos, “Logos-centric”. Each word and phrase, since it is directly derived from its predecessor (and the primary antecedent is the Logos), is contingent upon the immediate presence of the Logos.

In hearing our dilemma of the child presented above, Tolkien might say that the word “bottle” has meaning outside of the child’s concept of what the word means. The child cannot just invent a word (“ba”) and say that it is substitutable for “bottle”. He merely does not know what word to use, so uses another in its stead. Just as we use the word “arbor” to represent ‘tree’, we use it in place of knowing the expression that might have been used in the original, or divine language. So, in this concept, the sign is not a social construct, but a way of participating in the divine eternality of the Word. Indeed, the more fully we understand languages and the construct of signs, the more we come to participate in the Word. For example, if the only image and concept that comes to mind when we hear the word “arbor” is a palm tree or dead oak, then we do not fully understand the sign. The sign ought to re-present in our minds not only a dead oak, but also “gopher wood”, “olive branch”, and “Cross”, not to mention all the other implied socially constructed, but poetically and divinely useful, representations of the sign. When we hear “arbor”, the more we know, the more we experience. Hence, the study of language, for Tolkien and others, was important to an experience of that from which all things originated.

Here is where we come to Problem (2), the seemingly more complicated of the two. Derrida claimed that the statement, “I am”, was inherently a representation, an act of making the “I” reflexive and present. And if the “I” was supposed to be the “transcendental signified”, it would follow that it was that which could not have a signifier. And the “I am” statement is an attempt by the “I” to signify itself, since it has no adjective defining what state of being the “I” is in. Basically, Derrida wanted to “de-construct” the structures that had been built—structures which all had a single locus as their fixed object. Whether this locus was God in theology, the sun in the solar system, reason in Western philosophy, or the “transcendental sign” in language, his assertion was that these things themselves are not stable, they are constantly in motion. Thus, the binding laws of connection (that which binds all things in a structure to a center) could not apply, but must be themselves in motion. And if they are in motion, then the signs cannot have their meaning based upon the centralized concept, or “logos.” So upon what does the meaning of language signs rest? Upon the differences in the signs themselves—how they relate to one another, how they are used, and to what end their usages permit. A sort of inter-connectedness of meanings arises, rather than a centralized presence or “logos.” In other words, “arbor” would not represent ‘tree’ because it centered around a certain fixed state, but rather because the words surrounding it allowed it to take on the meaning of ‘tree’.

Of course, this assertion is in direct conflict with the beliefs of “Logos-centrism” described in the teachings of Tolkien. The sign is not entirely socially constructed, however. Indeed, the sign, for Derrida, constructs society. Society participates in the grand “play” of signs in that it constantly references signs, and by proxy their interplay of meaning, but the signs themselves still dwell outside of physical existence. It is in the constant reference of the signs to one another that we find the connection between the three philosophies here present. As we pointed out above, in the “Logos-centric” understanding of language, the more references we understand in the meaning of the sign, the closer we get to an experience of what lies beneath, thus we participate in the eternal self- and inter-referential nature of the signs.

This does not negate the fixed center around which the signs and our understanding of those signs circulate, as the center itself need not be separated from the interplay of signs and may actually assist in the constant change of reference. For, if the Word of “Logos-centrism” cannot be fully re-presented in the signs we make (as we are inherently tainted), then we must constantly be representing our experience in various and incomprehensive ways. This also addresses Problem (1), as it points out that each word has its meaning inherently intertwined with the use of other words in society while at the same time being maintained by the ever-present Logos. What does this mean for practical life? For starters, it means that the words we use are by their use a reference to and re-presentation of the original Word and that the inter-referential nature of signs inherently contains divinity and is not limited to a social construct.


Bibliography

Derrida, Jacques. “Speech and Phenomena.” In A Derrida Reader: Between the Blinds. Edited by Peggy Kamuf. New York: Columbia University Press, 1991.

Flieger, Verlyn Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien's World. Kent State University Press, 2002.

Saussure, Ferdinand de. Course in General Linguistics. Chicago: Open Court, 2004.

[1] While I reference Sassure here, I do not intend to go over the entire Course in General Linguistics nor debate the failures of Sassurean philosophy (for a somewhat entertainingly harsh and un-learned reaction to post-Saussurean theory, see Not Saussure by “Dr.” Raymond Tallis). I do not wish to go into a lengthy discussion of post-structuralist thought nor alternative theories of defining signs (viz. Donald Davidson’s “triangulation” theory, etc.). This is not because they are not interesting, indeed I find them more intriguing than Saussure’s model, but for the purposes of this essay, I will mostly allow Saussure’s model to stand (for now), so as not to bore you.
[2] See Lacan for a psycho-analytical defense of the SIGNIFIER/signified split.
[3] Indeed, it is important to understand that Saussure’s teaching was almost in direct reaction to the assumption that anthropology and linguistic studies must go hand-in-hand, as he taught that, while they can contribute to one another, the two fields are entirely separate.