I. The Question
     I don't know about you, but I live in a modern society. The mere definition of the word
"modern" means "present day," so I guess it's safe to say that we're all existing in modern times.
But, if this is true, then what the hell is "postmodern," and how can we possibly comprehend it?
Even Norton Publishing, the experts on literary matters such as these, admit that "a work of
fiction can reflect postmodern traits without necessarily belonging to a specific school or genre"
(Geyh, Leebron, and Levy xi). We, as a society, have structured and given new meaning to a
word which, based purely upon its roots, would most certainly be defined as "after the present
day" -- things that have not yet happened. And the new meaning we've given to this word is
sketchy at best -- no one has offered a particularly clear and concise definition. In fact, I searched
several dictionaries dated from 1966 to 1983 for the word "postmodern," but it wasn't in any of
them -- it took the "Oxford Modern English Dictionary" from 1992 to give me any definition
(which I found rather ironic -- the word "postmodern" could only be found in a modern
dictionary!). The definition given was "denoting a movement reacting against modern tendencies,
esp. by drawing attention to former conventions" (Oxford 386). So, if I may extrapolate a bit,
might postmodernism be called a movement which satirizes modernism? A reaction against
something which achieves its sentiment by drawing attention to the problem... sounds like satire
to me! But, does this definition -- the only one given among four dictionaries examined -- really
hold true? Isn't postmodernism much more than mere satire? Or is satire all there is? Even the
compilers of "Postmodern American Fiction: A Norton Anthology" wonder if postmodernism
"could be anything more than a pale imitation or parody of the modernist achievement" (Geyh,
Leebron, and Levy xvii).
     Let's take a look at literature. At what point does a work pass the thin foggy line between
modern and postmodern? Many modern works use postmodern writing conventions, such as
breaking the frame, multiple narrators, etc. -- just take a look at As I Lay Dying, which has
passages in it written by a dead woman! "My father said that the reason for living is getting ready
to stay dead ... because a man cannot know anything about cleaning up the house afterward ...
and I [was] lying calm in the slow silence, getting ready to clean my house" (Faulkner 118-119).
Yet this novel, with all of its intricacies and experimental techniques, is still considered by the
literary community at large to be a work of modern fiction, and not a postmodern piece: "[on] the
list of leading modernist authors [is] ... William Faulkner" (Geyh, Leebron, and Levy xvi-xvii). So
what makes a work postmodern? Well, that's kind of a tricky question, isn't it. As far as I'm
concerned, the works we've read for class are postmodern sheerly because we've read them for
class, and the class is a postmodernism seminar. And since I can't write a paper defining
postmodernism (I don't have nearly enough sources for that), I suppose I'll have to work in
reverse: what techniques used in some of the books we've read for class make them postmodern
rather than modern? Why were they included in our seminar? How can we be sure that they truly
are postmodern works?

II. The Proposal
     Yes, the proposal. How I'm going to accomplish this semi-monumental task. I promise
you nothing: I am not God, nor am I some sort of literary genius. I'm an English major, and not
even a pure one -- I've piggybacked an East Asian Studies major onto it. And I'm a slacker, and
what a slacker! So here's the long and short of it: basically, I'm going to attempt to figure out
why some of the works we've read for class are postmodern -- "I'm going to cut you open and
tinker with your ticker" ("The Simpsons", FOX TV). And by "figure out", I don't mean prove to
you or show you, but honestly figure out. I'm writing this as objectively as I can, knowing only
that they've been considered postmodern by my professor and my classmates. Even after a whole
seminar on postmodernism, I'm not sure I can verifiably define it, so I'm working solely with
logical relation and theorization. As you read this revised essay, try to imagine me revising it, with
books open all around me, strewn about like dirty, grimy clothing. Before each point I make, I am
carefully looking over the heavily-edited first draft of this paper, deciphering Margot Kelley's
cryptic suggestions (for she and I have very different minds which work in very different ways)
and piggybacking them onto my own ultra-critical corrections. I'm actually very nervous and
afraid. What if my revisions aren't good enough? What if I can't successfully prove that these
books are postmodern, or that As I Lay Dying and other such works are not? It's an experiment -
- a postmodern essay on postmodernism, if you will (and please do!). This has been verified by
Margot Kelley herself. But, most of all, it's a unique ploy to get a good grade on a paper that I'm
really not particularly qualified to be writing. So, let's begin (again), shall we?

III. The Shaky but Hopeful Beginnings
     OK, I guess there's no time like the present -- or the modern! Get it? Ha ha ha! Anyway, I
think the two works I'm going to focus on most heavily in this essay will be Toni Morrison's Jazz
and Richard Powers's Three Farmers on Their Way to a Dance. Why? Because, of all the works
we've read for class this semester, these two I feel I've understood the most. And, though I have
no particular evidence to support the fact that these books are commonly considered to be
postmodern, as I said, our senior seminar class for which they were assigned is a postmodernism
seminar. Therefore, I'm going into this essay under the assumption that both books are
postmodern, and what I'm hoping to get out of this essay is a bit more proof that they indeed are.
And, quite frankly, I don't see either work as being particularly satirical, so it looks like my
extrapolation of the only definition I got among four dictionaries is quite wrong. It just goes to
show you, defining postmodernism is really really hard. So I have no definition to work with,
either. Beautiful. I wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew, or if my mouth is bigger than I
thought...

IV. Three Farmers on Their Way to Postmodernism
     Anyway, let's start with Three Farmers. Just from the few articles I've read thus far, there
seems to be a lot of information on Toni Morrison, but very little on Richard Powers -- so let's
tackle the obscurer of the two first, leaving me with less work to do later. The first step is to
figure out what writing techniques Powers employs in this novel, and this is fairly easy. Right off
the bat, he employs multiple narrators -- three of them, working in something resembling "shifts"
from chapter to chapter. He employs the underused (but also non-postmodern)  technique of
ekphrasis, or description of a picture which is designed to repaint it in your mind: "The third
[farmer] loiters behind the others in a fit of abstraction. He runs an experiment on how loosely he
can hold a cigarette between his lips" (Powers 18). Powers also utilizes a smidgen of (also non-
postmodern) synecdoche in regards to the photograph, and manages to relate his three narrators
to one another through it -- "three young men from the turn of the century stand in a muddy
road" versus "three men walk down a muddy road at late afternoon" (16-17), one describing the
photograph and one describing the actions of the three men at the time of the photograph, a short
moment in life captured on film and representing the lives of its subjects. And, in the story of the
three Germans, Powers uses excellent dialect. As for genre, one could call this a character study
piece, or perhaps an atmospheric work. Rather than being a plot-driven novel, Three Farmers
seems more of an event-driven novel -- the order of events and perhaps even the results of them
are inconsequential, but the connection or relation between them is crucial.
     First off, multiple narrators have been used in pre-postmodern works rather often. As I
Lay Dying is notorious for its multiple narrators, and the concept stretches back as far as
Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. Multiple narrators alone is not an inherently postmodern concept.
However, the way in which multiple narrators are employed in Three Farmers is, to be fair, a
rather unique one. Unlike The Canterbury Tales and As I Lay Dying, Three Farmers has chosen
three narrators who, in the beginning, seem to have no relation to one another at all. In The
Canterbury Tales, the narrators are all together, telling stories on a train; in As I Lay Dying, the
narrators are all from one particular family, on a quest to bury Addie, and any non-familial
narrators introduced are all people who were met and spoken with along the way. But in Three
Farmers, we have three people who not only are from different families and circles, but even from
different times -- and yet all three narrators have a purpose, and all three narrators are tied
together in the end. This same phenomenon occurs in Love Medicine, which seems, at first
glance, to bear all of the modernist qualities of As I Lay Dying, but does in fact share this quality
of unrelated narrators being tied together in the end. Could this, then, be a reliably postmodern
technique? Postmodernism is in fact thought of as incorporating "different textual genres and
contradictory 'voices' within a single work, [and] fragmented or 'open' forms that give the
audience the power to assemble the work and determine its meaning" (Geyh, Leedron, and Levy
x). Note also that Three Farmers does something else rather unique in that the narrators don't all
tell their stories in the first person, and not all of them have a name, nor personalities all that
similar to one another -- "different textual genres and contradictory voices" (x) indeed!
     As I mentioned above, Three Farmers also relies rather heavily on the technique of
ekphrasis. Once again, however, this technique existed long before the postmodern era, dating
back to John Keats's "Ode on a Grecian Urn" and other such works. I've recently discovered,
too, that this technique is not even postmodern. Nor is synecdoche. However, when the two are
combined, the work seems to break new ground. The unique qualities possessed by Three
Farmers may stem from its combination of ekphrasis and synecdoche. Not only is the photo of the
three Germans being painted in our minds, but it's being used to represent something much larger.
The entire life and times of the three farmers, everything they stood for and everything they once
were, and indeed the first-person narrator's quest to find out about them -- it's all represented by
a solitary photograph, described in exquisite detail by Richard Powers. Ekphrasis may not be
postmodern, but even modern or conventional techniques can be made "new" if utilized in a new
way. The deep and meaningful connection between the photograph and the three Germans, the
first-person narrator's obsession with and acknowledgment of this connection, and the pursuit of
information on the matter are, when put together, rather unique. After all, whatever deeper
meanings one can extract from "Ode on a Grecian Urn," Three Farmers can top.
     One of the most telling signs of postmodernism in Three Farmers is the genre -- namely,
the fact that the genre is so difficult to pin down! In much the same way as postmodern art films
such as "The Red Violin," Three Farmers focuses on relationships and events rather than a
continuous plot. Earlier works seem to shy away from this technique -- As I Lay Dying is
absolutely linear, and The Canterbury Tales, while mostly a collection of short stories, is linked
together by the train of storytellers, forcing a linear plot onto something that doesn't specifically
need one. I'm sure I'm probably just forgetting something, but as far as I can recall, this particular
writing technique, if it was in fact used in the modern era of literature, wasn't used a whole heck
of a lot. So, until I can think of some way to disprove myself, I'm leaning towards the thought
that event-not-plot-driven narrative (i.e. the focus on connections between events, regardless of
time, rather than on linear event progression) is very definitely related to postmodernism. I'm
probably wrong, but hey, what are you gonna do?

V. Moving On to Jazz
     Now that that's settled (sort of), we can move on to Toni Morrison's Jazz. This work is
quite a bit different from Three Farmers. Though it employs similar techniques as Three Farmers,
such as the combination of synecdoche and ekphrasis, these qualities don't serve as primary as
purpose as they do in Powers's novel. This work has a decidedly continuous story, which, though
not necessarily told in order of occurrence, is quite central to the novel's purpose. Granted, Three
Farmers had complete continuity as well, but it was split into three separate narratives, none of
which had any direct connection to the other, but also none of which could've stood on its own
without losing quite a lot of its purpose. In Jazz, there are about a half-dozen or so good
narrators, but each one tells his or her own side of the same story (or a different part of the same
story), and if all of these are pieced together, the "whole story" begins to form in the reader's
mind. Every event listed in Jazz is related to every other event by family bloodlines or linear
occurrence. Instead of splicing together three narratives through very loose and almost
coincidental connections, Jazz tells one long story, but doesn't tell it all at once.
     In this way, Jazz is perhaps a bit more like As I Lay Dying, in which one overall goal is
being sought, but every character sees the situation and the path to that goal differently. So the
question is, once again, why is Jazz considered postmodern when As I Lay Dying is almost
universally thought of as modern? This one is a bit more difficult to answer, because the
similarities between these two works are striking. In some ways, As I Lay Dying may even delve
deeper into postmodernism than Jazz, for it even offers a chapter from the point of view of the
late Addie Bundren!
     The one thing Jazz does which may make it more of a postmodern work than As I Lay
Dying is sympathize. This is virtually impossible to show through citations, but I'm sure anyone
who's read both books would agree that, though we sympathize with some characters in As I Lay
Dying, Faulkner's diction and overall literary style (for he does succumb to traditional prosaic
techniques) make the characters seem a bit more distant than in Jazz. We may sympathize with
characters in As I Lay Dying, but we are not made to sympathize with anyone as we are in Jazz.
It's a terrible point to make in a literary essay, since no quotations can be used to prove this, but
it's a very important point to make nonetheless. Postmodernism isn't always easy to explain. In
fact, it's never easy to explain. That's why I have to explain it such a convoluted, ridiculous way
as this. I also don't have a decent definition to work with, which means I have to rely on literary
citations to prove my point. And I really haven't been doing too much of that, either.
     Getting back on track, though, one other particularly important aspect of Jazz is, well,
jazz! The novel is set up in such a way that every chapter flows into one another, every event is
told from many different people's points of view, and the accusations of one narrator usually seem
to be followed by some sort of unwitting rebuttal by another. Basically, these are all the elements
of typical jazz music: fluid transitions, variations on a theme, and call and response. The entire
novel is written in such a way that it almost serves as a literary doppleganger for jazz music. The
fact that the bulk of Jazz's cast is of African-American heritage makes this especially significant:
"Postmodernity, especially in the social, political, and cultural spheres, provides a critical space to
assess modernity and racial tradition and the cultural objects they produced" (Hogue 2). In other
words, postmodernity (defined by Norton as "a historical period stretching from the 1960s to the
present, marked by such phenomena as ... the increasing ethnic heterogeneity of the American
population" [Geyh, Leebron, and Levy x]), a necessary and almost mutually inclusive aspect of
postmodernism, gives us a chance to examine modernist works and works of racially diverse
origin and what sorts of specific cultural symbols are present within them (in this case, jazz
music). The suggestion here, of course, is that postmodernism is a very close cousin to
modernism. One of the main differences is cultural introspection. A postmodern work is like a
self-aware modern work. It knows what it's "supposed" to do, but sometimes chooses not to do it
-- it "does not foreground formal difficulty, but combines formal innovation with shifts in context,
tone, and audience to create forms of fiction that sometimes feel old but read anew" (Geyh,
Leedron, and Levy xix). It also sometimes examines things a bit more closely that many modernist
works might take for granted; perhaps something seemingly inane or generally not questioned,
like jazz music.
     One other way in which Jazz differs from As I Lay Dying is in the role of the narrator --
and this may be the most telling difference of all. Whereas Faulkner's chapters each have their
narrators announced to the reader, Morrison isn't as clear. Many of her chapters are told from the
point of view of a given character, but there's also another layer of narration, an omniscient
narrator with an almost voyeuristic feel who comments on what she (presumably she) sees, and
scolds herself in the end for jumping to conclusions. It's almost as if Morrison herself is a
character in Jazz. "The modernist author ... experiments with form to create a stream of
consciousness so vivid that the author disappears, while the same author in 'postmodernist' mode
creates ruptures, gaps, and ironies that continually remind the reader that an author is present -- if
not ... entirely in control" (Geyh, Leedron, and Levy 1). This seems almost to be an absolute with
modernist and postmodernist literature, and holds true in almost every case.

VI. Intermission
Dr. Margot Kelley, English Department, Ursinus College
     Tom, Sweetie, I don't know what to think. You made some good revisions, and seemed
to pay a lot of attention to my comments, but I'm still seeing the whole "fucking with me" image
in your paper. Still, you've given yourself a newer and better thesis than you had before, and this
one is at least provable (albeit a bit flimsy). I was hoping for more from you, but I suppose this
will have to do. You could've done better though, Sweetie, you know you could've. As it stands,
C-.

Dr. John Volkmer, English Department, Ursinus College
     Still needs more grain elevators. Add them. As it stands, C-.

VII. The Very Tip of Page Ten, and Beyond! (Formerly The Second Third of
Page Nine, and Beyond!)

     What a ludicrous idea that was. I sure hope it doesn't cost me my grade! Nonetheless,
some good points were raised. This essay is designed to fuck with you, and fuck with you it shall!
I suppose I'll pay for not straightening up and flying right -- but, as I promised you, I've
continued to fly by the seat of my postmodern pants. Where will I go next? What great revisions
will I make? Read on and discover, for you all are valued readers!
     To summarize what I've accomplished thus far (besides making an ass of myself): Firstly, I
asked the question of whether or not postmodernism is mere satire. I then promptly forgot about
this question, which is probably a good thing since it's pretty much untrue. Do read on for a
better explanation of postmodernism (I know what's coming next because this is my second
draft!). My evidence has supported the idea that postmodernism goes beyond satire -- rather that
satirizing, it "resists and obscures the sense of modernism" and "implies a complete knowledge of
the modern which has been surpassed by a new age" (Appignanesi and Garratt 4). In other words,
it doesn't parody modernism, it completely bypasses or reinvents it. This is supported by the texts
we've looked at: Three Farmers combines genres and time periods, has three seemingly unrelated
narrators speaking in first- and third-person voices, and manages to relate them all together
beautifully. Jazz has a half-dozen or so "narrators," an additional narrator who is her own separate
character, tells one rather complex story from different voices and different perspectives, and does
it all in jazzy, rhythmical language. And, weighing in on the side of modernism, As I Lay Dying
breaks a frame or two, but pretty consistently tells a story from beginning to end, from many
different but related narrators' points of view and from beyond the grave, but in a fairly dry and
old-school way. Basically, Faulkner uses all sorts of well-established literary techniques and does
some interesting things with them, but he still doesn't "resist and obscure the sense of modernism"
(4) -- he just writes within it.
     So, basically, I just summarized everything I've written about so far in about one-eighth of
the space. Er... again. And now I'm really worried. I didn't change that much of this paper, I just
"updated" most of it. I just hope to get by, floating on the waves of mediocrity but never allowing
myself to even slightly dampen my feet. After all, I am a slacker, and getting by is what slackers
do best.

VIII. Forget Everything You've Read So Far -- Here's a New Essay!
     In this modern age where bigger and better things are constantly being invented, to put it
bluntly, "something's gotta give." As each new technology is introduced, it stands to reason that
society, on the whole, would be affected by it, and would progress -- and literature, too, must
progress [editor's note: this is the thesis!]. "One encounters frequently, in postmodernist writings, the
claim that more-or-less recent scientific developments have not only modified our view of the
world but have also brought about profound philosophical and epistemological shifts -- in short,
that the very nature of science has changed" (Sokal and Bricmont 134). Postmodernist writing,
therefore, might be better-suited with the name "neo-modernist." The meaning of postmodern
seems not to be "that which comes after modern," but rather "that which redefines modern" -- to
chart new ground and redefine the established norms in the process. "Even the fields of business
organization and management have been reconceptualized, and in practice are being reconstituted,
around the postmodern paradigm" (Best and Kellner 255). In other words, progressive or "new"
modes of writing, writing which furthers literature into a new era. The modernists may be
experimental, but the postmodernists don't even bother experimenting -- they just do, and hope
that what they've done turns out OK.
     [Thesis paragraph: OK]
     For example, time and space, in a modernist piece, tends to be fairly standard. In William
Faulkner's As I Lay Dying, the entire story moves from point A to point B, traveling through
space and time in a fairly consistent linear fashion. "One of the main lines of attack on the
formalism of structuralist [modern] analyses of narrative was their so-called synchronic
orientation ... [which] dictated that meaning be analysed as a spatial structure in relation to a
snapshot of the language system as a whole at any one time. It was a common perception that this
banished time and history entirely from structuralist narratology, and yet ... the order and
frequency of [the story's] events was one of the major concerns of the structuralists" (Currie 76-
77). Faulkner's tale, in which time, at the very least, is never even addressed as a concern,
manages to still tell a story which takes place over time, and it is told completely sequentially.
Compare this to Three Farmers or Jazz, the former of which tells three separate narratives from
two separate points in history, each narrative by itself in sequence, and the latter of which tells
one big story that spans many decades within a very jumpy and inconsistent nonlinear timeline.
Both novels treat time in unique and new ways, which, though possibly [read: most likely] done
before, have never become standard, have never been thought of as a modern method for
sequential event scripting. Thus, these two novels, through treatment of time alone, have broken
out of modernism and progressed into "neo-modernism" or postmodernism [what a dumb word,
postmodernism! It's not post-anything except post-pre-modernism! I really would love to know what modern-day
dolt thought that one up!] . 
     [Evidence paragraph #1: OK]
     Not all aspects of a postmodern work have to be postmodern, however. Since the
postmodern genre is so unpredictable and full of new ideas, techniques which are commonly
thought of as postmodern may not be present in certain works, whereas certain modernist
techniques may be. According to "The Postmodern Turn," postmodernists are known to
"abandon naive realism and representational epistemology, as well as unmediated objectivity and
truth, in favor of perspectivism, anti-foundationalism, hermeneutics, intertextuality, simulation,
and relativism" (Best and Kellner 257). Yet Jazz certainly doesn't seem to practice anti-
foundationalism or intertextuality (beyond the incorporation of jazz music), nor does Three
Farmers abandon truth, and neither work seems to practice simulation to any great extent (though
there are traces of it in each). But both Jazz and Three Farmers most certainly display
perspectivism in the usage of multiple narrators, and relativism in the heavy use of photographs as
synecdoche. Most striking, however, is the complete disparity between Three Farmers and a
sweeping generalization made about postmodernism in the book "Postmodern Social Analysis and
Criticism:" "Postmodernists loathe the use of explanatory models (or heuristic devices), because
all phenomena are described in such a way that their social significance is distorted" (Murphy 20).
Richard Powers, in complete contrast with this, seems to love explanatory models -- entire
sections of Three Farmers are comprised of extremely complicated explanations designed to make
certain plot details more easily understandable or certain descriptive phrases more ekphrastic,
whether it be a history of the German photographer August Sander (Powers 39-46) or a
remarkably detailed how-to on becoming a biographer (204-209). Yet Three Farmers, for all of its
non-postmodernist techniques, still exhibits enough newness, enough originality, to transcend
modernism.
     [Evidence paragraph #2: a bit jumpy, but some good points were made, so it's OK]
     In conclusion [the true definition of how not to begin a conclusion paragraph], postmodernism is
not a particularly easy-to-define term [gee, where have we heard that before?]. It would be better
classified as neo-modernism or some other similar term -- it doesn't exactly follow the modernist
movement, it just seeks to redefine it, to make it newer and better. Modernism may experiment
with new ideas, but postmodernism actually uses them. Postmodernism is "the next step" -- and as
soon as that step is taken, a work must take the step after that in order to truly be postmodern.
People have tried to define postmodernism using a set of boundaries and rules, but the whole
point behind postmodernism is that it isn't bound by rules -- as long as it breaks the norm, as long
as it surpasses modern writing techniques in some way, it is postmodern. Like technology,
postmodernism represents literary progress -- when the CD player was first invented, for example,
one could perhaps have called it a postmodern invention. Now, a CD player is merely a modern
convenience, but the recent advent of DVD technology, perhaps still passable as a postmodern
invention, has reset the standards for modernism and raised the ladder for postmodernism. As
long as progress is made, as long as a new standard is set, postmodernism is achieved, and
modernism is bumped up a notch [editor's note: restatement of thesis as conclusion -- nicely done!]. And so
the cycle continues. Throughout time, there will always be the modern, the postmodern, and the
people who try to define postmodern with a structured set of values. And, together, we can laugh
at these people. Laugh and laugh and laugh. Because they're very dumb, and it's fun to laugh at
the dumb. Peace out.
     [Conclusion paragraph: I tried, but I couldn't resist. Still, I surprised myself -- I made some pretty good
points! What do you think, Dr. Kelley?]

IX. Jammin' with Margot Kelley
Dr. Margot Kelley
     It's a definite improvement. Quite a bit shorter than your first essay, but definitely better.
The ending is wholly unnecessary, however. I'm sorry, Sweetie, but this is a serious essay and all
you're doing is fucking with my head. Plus, if the essay functions as a whole (both individual
essays functioning as one), you need some sort of viable overall conclusion. One which ties both
essays together. You need to link together every aspect of your paper, postmodern or not, so that
the whole thing flows and... well... has a point. Because right now, I still can't seem to figure out
what your goal was. But, you've pulled yourself out of that rut, and I may even be generous
enough to give you a C now. Good job!

X. "Some Sort of Viable Overall Conclusion" (Lipschultz 14)
     A conclusion, huh? Jeepers, I'm gonna have to remind myself of what I wrote. It's hard
keeping track of this many pages! And this isn't even the suggested twenty! OK, un momento por
favor, I'm gonna read section VII of this paper again to remind myself of what I'd written before
section IX.
     ...
     OK, makes sense. It seems that I started out by suggesting (in what I suppose might
qualify as a thesis, though I'm not even sure what my thesis is anymore) that postmodernism may
be a satirical take on modernism, but I think I've pretty sufficiently proven that it's not. Both of
the essays contained within this essay, however, seem to point to one conclusion: postmodernism
is not a specific, definable concept, and is not subject to a lot of rules and regulations, but instead
is clearly "the next step" from what is currently modern. Morrison and Powers took this step --
they each broke new ground in their respective novels. And since my goal, stated very clearly in
section II, was to prove that these two works we've been reading are in fact postmodern, I think
I've achieved my goal, haven't I. So, to be cocky, I must now say, "in your face, Space Coyote!"
("The Simpsons", FOX TV).
     The problem with postmodernism, however, is that it's always changing: as new literary
techniques are developed, they are very quickly integrated into modernism, at which point
postmodernism becomes even more difficult to achieve. This paper is postmodern -- by the
standards set by itself, anyway. It is a formal essay, yet it addresses the reader, it features heavy
commentary on itself, it includes the narrator's voice, and it utilizes multiple narrators (all of
which are fictional, of course -- there's really no such person as "Dr. Margot Kelley" or "Dr. John
Volkmer." in Ursinus College's English department, and any likenesses they may have to any real
professors are completely coincidental). It shifts in and out of serious content, it quotes itself, it
features an "essay within an essay," and it grades itself along the way. It has broken ground that I
feel it's safe to say has not been broken before. Has it set a new standard for essayists, though?
Will this style of essay-writing ever become "the norm"? Personally, I hope to God it won't --
which kind of disproves my whole paper, doesn't it. This paper will never become a "modernist
essay" -- it's permanently stuck in postmodernism. And if it's possible to be stuck in
postmodernism, without any real chance of becoming modernist, then doesn't it stand to reason
that definitions and standards for postmodernism can be set?
     I suppose the answer is yes -- as I said, I'm not God, nor a literary scholar by any means.
I'm just an English major, and not even a pure one. And I'm a slacker, and what a slacker! But I
was so sure that my theories on postmodernism were correct -- after all, they made perfect sense
with the body of evidence I used on them.
     On the other hand, assuming that my concept of a postmodernism that infallibly integrates
itself with modernism holds true, we must invariably ask the question, what is this paper? If not
postmodern, then what? "Since your paper is breaking new stylistic ground in an attempt to
invalidate postmodernism, your paper itself becomes an example of what can only be called 'post-
postmodernism'" (Nathan Rosen, Ursinus College Junior, Communications major).
     This definitely complicates matters.
     So, in conclusion (there's that terrible conclusion statement again!), I don't know what the
hell to say. I've written fifteen pages, and what have I proven? I suppose I've proven one of my
original statements: "the new meaning we've given to this word [postmodern] is sketchy at best --
no one has offered a particularly clear and concise definition" (Lipschultz 1). So was that my
thesis statement, then? Or am I just toying with you once more? "Can't it be both?" ("The Family
Guy", FOX TV). I guess I've also proven that Three Farmers and Jazz can be thought of as
postmodern, at least by one definition of the word. And, perhaps most importantly of all, I've
proven that postmodernism is hard to comprehend and, in some ways, rather subjective. Different
authors and different scholars may perceive postmodernism in different ways. All I know is that,
for me, postmodernism is one hell of a complicated topic to write about, but it's also a pretty
damn fun concept. This paper began as something difficult, something beyond me. I had major
writer's block, and was sitting in front of the screen frustrated as all git-out. I had no fun writing
this, and the end was nowhere in sight. Now I'm on page 17, and ready to wrap it up -- again.
And I'm satisfied. I don't see me getting an A on this essay, but I don't care -- I've written the
best damn essay I can write, and I've put more work into this than into anything I've ever written
before. If I fail, especially now, after putting my time and energy into what I consider to be a
damn good revision, then I will be very mad. And when I get mad, I get vengeful. Er, did I say
vengeful? I meant... uhhh... happy! Anyway, I flew by the seat of my pants, yadda yadda yadda --
my postmodern pants -- and found myself circling the globe, eventually landing, lightly, in a grain
elevator somewhere in rural Pennsylvania. And now that I've landed, I don't ever want to fly
again. Please don't make me go back up there. It's scary, and there are vultures.

XI. Final Comments -- You Were Pretty Hard On Me!
Dr. John Volkmer
     Excellent. The grain elevator at the end is all I needed. A-.

Dr. Margot Kelley (for real this time)
     Tom -- your essay is postmodern in the ways you've identified. But it doesn't fulfill the
assignment. And if you note the highlighting, you'll see that when the games are stripped away,
you've got about 4-5 pages of actual content that responds to the assignment. I recognize that
this playful approach might seem like an appropriate choice in a PM seminar. However, it doesn't
actually succeed. I need to be sure you are capable of responding in a sophisticated way to the
texts we've engaged in seminar, that you can work well with theoretical + critical resources, and
that you can develop + support an original thesis and argument. I cannot do that with this sort
of essay. Please revise according to more conventional lines, even if doing so seems paradoxical
to you. This paper would not earn a passing grade for this assignment. (Lipschultz rough draft 16-
17, written by Dr. Margot Kelley)

XII. Rebuttal
     "content that responds to the assignment" -- done. I've modified my thesis. Now, much of
the evidence that previously didn't respond to the assignment DOES.
     "sophisticated" -- this word is very subjective. Many people, myself included, consider
"The Simpsons" to be a sophisticated show. Others consider it to be tacky and unrefined. Due to
the subjectivity of this word, I'm going to have to say that sophistication is irrelevant. In other
words, "you've gotta do better than that to keep me down!"  : )
     "according to more conventional lines" -- why? Isn't it enough that I complete the
assignment? Lighten up, Teach! Unbuckle your belt, sit back, kick up your heels, and live a little!

     ...or live a lot...

                    ...until one day...

          ...you die...

                              ...by the seat...


               ...of your postmodern pants...