Why is this significant? Why do we need to account for how spice is perceived? Because the histories of spice thus far have focused only on spice from a Western perspective. That is not to say that these histories have not been incredibly informative, but rather that these histories have concentrated on a single or even multiple Western perspectives of spice: trade routes, for example, and how spice got from there to here, from the East to the West. What is needed is a definition of spice.
And a definition of spice comes from spyce. That is, the paradigmatic histories of spice become a synchronic definition of spyce--spice must be defined cross culturally. Author of the The Penguin Companion to Food, Alan Davidson, states this challenge directly: "Spices are hard to define." Spice, spicy, spiced--all definitions of these words vary per culture, if not per speech act. For example, the cooks I worked with in a Thai restaurant could understand spice in two ways: spice as hot, burning the mouth--the typical American perspective, or spice as multiple dried plants--cumin, coriander, black pepper, chili pepper, etc. Americans brought out the fact that Thai food had spiciness (hotness) to it--otherwise this fact is unremarkable in Thailand.
So, a definition is not simply something abstracted from culture and history, as in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). Rather, definition is the recognition of difference. If I remember correctly, Ian Lancashire at the University of Toronto, points to some of the gender-oriented origins of dictionaries in England: dictionaries were initially invented by men to educate women in seventeenth-century England. Upper-class women's tasks were confined to lacy poetry, while they were excluded from the political sphere. Here, difference is recognized in order to categorize women and associate this sex with particular tasks apart from the male "sphere of power." I put this in quotes because what constitutes power is surely subjective, and someday, perhaps, this sphere of power may become something else--mutants, per the X-Men, for example, I don't know.
Perhaps, though, the practice of defining has inherited this exclusive formula: the exclusion of, say, women from particular spheres of social life through preoccupying them with vocabulary, not politics. Of course, this makes vocabulary incredibly political. To state it reductively, the man imposes a definition which the female must accept and dwell on. Is this not the essence of Frederick Jameson's ideologeme--that small unit of ideology that is given to us to work with. In this case, male ideology produces an ideologeme in the form of vocabulary that limits what the female can work with. It's like a coach who gives you a badminton racquet to play tennis--ain't no way you're gonna win.
Definition, however, can be an incredibly useful tool. We need to extend the abbreviated versions we get from dictionaries, which are understandably language and culture specific. But I think once we begin to extend definitions across cultures, we will find a new communication is possible. In A Thousand Plateaus, Deleuze and Guatarri claim that communication only occurs in cross-cultural encounters--that is, language, for example, was formed so that two tribes could relate and trade with each other. Otherwise, the embodied practices of a tribe could fulfill the social functions necessary for community behavior. While at this point this claim might be more speculation than science, there is nevertheless incredible potential lodged in a synchronic analysis of spice--that which I call "spyce."
This is analogous to making a map, rather than a history. The map highlights particular similarities and dissimilarities, but it offers the potential to navigate across multiple territories. Definitions-as-maps allow us to perceive the world from a different perspective. The topological map vs. the topographical map for instance. The map of elevated terrain vs. the map of population density. Each map has its own use value. But we can switch these maps--these perspectives--like the predator switches his vision (from the movie Predator). This is not to say that we are predators, but that we do need multiple visions--ways of seeing--if we are to survive and change this world.
Spyce is part of this project of change. It focuses on a single substance--or rather a signifier--to map our way through and between cultures. This is akin to Jameson's cognitive mapping, which requires a focus-substance to navigate the morass. Zizek notes in Welcome to The Desert of The Real that global capitalism discourages attempts at cognitive mapping. We are instead left in disarray--like being in a mall, where do I go? I don't know, just purchase, consume, and worry about direction later. Disorientation forces us to grab onto anything that orients us. I once had horrible vertigo and I was perpetually forced to grab the closest solid object--whether that was a person, stool, desk, or lamp. The same goes for disorientation. Disoriented we reach for safety and unfortunately what we may grasp may be a highly conservative perspective. After 911, did Bush not immediately call for people to keep consuming, while also claiming that we need to attack. Forget about alternatives, let us just stabilize ourselves and then think.
But being afloat, so to speak, is not such a bad thing. Especially when you have a map.
So what may come of having a map, or maps? A new spyce trade. A trade not only in substances, but in perspectives. A trade not on what we see, but on how we see--ways of seeing. The new commodity is not substance, but style. To be continued...
