In Theology Beyond Metaphysics: Transformative Semiotics of René Gerard, Anthony Bartlett offers an account of Christianity that sees the theological task as an act of semiotic transformation. Bartlett is clear that, though René Girard’s name is featured prominently in the title of this work, its thrust is not simply a revival or rehashing of Girardian anthropology. Instead, he offers a generative account of reading Christian theology using a Girardian guide rail.
Bartlett does this first by poking holes in the reader’s confidence in the efficacy of language, suggesting that speech functions as a paradigmatic whole that is itself groundless (chapter 1). Though we expect language to be able to reference a world (be it noumenal or phenomenal) beyond our linguistic framework, careful prodding suggests that there may be no such grounding in our ability to communicate—and this lack may even provide explanatory power for how language works. For Bartlett, Girard’s work offers a means for contemporary thinkers to maintain their confidence in the ontology of the noumenal world while operating from a place of skepticism towards constructive accounts of this reality (chapter 2). This ability comes from Girard’s insistence that violence operates as the initial node through which humans find meaning. Since human meaning is birthed through violence, we should immediately recognize that it presents itself as an unreliable narrator to understanding our nature or our makeup.
But, even given this anthropological overview, we are still left affirming that our meaning-making capability is rooted in something beyond ourselves. Bartlett goes on to further explore the means of using language to affect our linguistic paradigms through the work of Jacques Derrida (chapter 4) and John Deely (chapters 6, 7)—treating figures such as Thomas Aquinas, Martin Heidegger, and Charles Sanders Peirce along the way. In the concluding chapter, Bartlett presents the reader with the book’s raison d’etre: a “transformative semiosis” of the Gospel of John. In this chapter (which is unequivocally the high point of the book), Bartlett directs the text to a transformative end, similar to how Girard sees Christ’s self-giving act as transformative to our violence-centered meaning-making capabilities. In doing so, the gospel becomes a tool for inverting the very framework by which it is read and (hopefully) changes the reader in this process.
In light of this brief survey, it should not be surprising that Barlett’s work is carefully constructed. Indeed, I would note that he has taken care to follow the advice of Herbert Marshall McLuhan since the message by which he guides his readers through his thesis serves as a medium to the very process with which he hopes to engage them. Barlett seems to be intentionally using his written work to bring about the very change that he is also attesting to in the chapters themselves. Because of this self-awareness, Bartlett maintains an almost melodic cadence as he traverses through dense accounts of contemporary literature. His writing provides the reader with a sense of security, impressing the idea that though the topic is almost impossibly nuanced, it is feasible to conclude this work with a fixed gaze on its subject—the image of Christ.
Nonetheless, as mesmerizing as this method can be, it causes the reader to engage in a metacritique that may be problematic for Bartlett’s thesis. Should we trust our impressions of the text at all in the hopes that we arrive at its desired end? If we don’t, how can we trust what we find when we arrive? But if we do, it seems that we have become a contradictory test case for subverting the thesis. This challenge likely points to a further issue that seems to crop up throughout the book. Bartlett is clear that he wishes to critique metaphysically dependent theologies—or, at the very least, he wishes to get beyond such accounts. However, he is rarely entirely clear on what he means by this, perhaps with the exception of a brief aside that he wishes to reject anything reminiscent of “Christian absolutism” (see 21). Should it be the case that his work simply intends to get beyond an overly confident prolegomena, this would be extraordinarily ironic in light of the structure of the book, which is focused on defending his methodology. Indeed, it is only in the concluding 25-page chapter that Bartlett offers anything resembling a generative account of Christian theology. In contrast to the advice of Audre Lorde, Bartlett appears hellbent on using the master’s tool not only to dismantle the master’s house but also to construct himself a new house altogether.
Additionally, there are also some moments that suggest that Bartlett has not quite pinned down the familiarity with which he anticipates his audience to have about the various thinkers he is discussing. In the third chapter, for instance, he assumes that his readers have a grasp on the three pillars of Girard’s anthropological hypothesis. These include mimesis (that violence stems from our tendency to mimic one another), scapegoating (that this violence can be channeled into one victim for the larger group), and biblical revelation of the victim (that this victim provides salvific aid to the community) (31). This assumption is surprising for a work that aims to produce a transformative effect on meaning. While I agree that even a surface understanding of Girard’s work ensures that the reader has encountered these concepts, Bartlett’s quick treatment of such an important cornerstone is odd, given his understanding that meaning is transformative. We would expect him to show us how Girard’s understanding here has impacted his own work, and yet he remains largely silent. Instead, he acts as if these terms are rigid and perspicuous pillars of Girard’s thoughts (in doing so, perhaps undermining his hermeneutic). But this oversight is not completely universal in the book. For instance, the reader is treated to a closer analysis of the nature of différance and trace in Girard’s work—features of the Frenchman’s hermeneutic that are arguably just as significant for his anthropology (59-63).
Ultimately, these critiques could be addressed, however, and I hope that Bartlett does decide to engage them in his further works. Regardless, the reader who picks up this work should do so from an inquisitive perspective—ready to learn as much about oneself as anything else.
Cody C. Warta is a PhD candidate in analytic theology at the University of St Andrews.
Cody C. Warta
Date Of Review:
June 24, 2023