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• 1 2022-11-14T19:47:12+00:00 Introduction 42 plain 2023-03-15T16:35:49+00:00

  Liam Kennedy and Stephen Shapiro

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  Neoliberalism is a term that confuses as much as it illuminates, not least of all because it refers to both material and ideological transformations in relations between capitalism, the State, and the subject. Its usage entails discrete yet interlinked histories of a material transformation in capitalist regimes of accumulation and an ideological and discursive shift in the logics of governmentality and modes of social regulation that has intensified capitalist commodification of human relations. The immanence of the neoliberal present — what we will define here as the “contemporary”— is a particular moment in this relationship, which reflects altered relations between capital and culture, and the expansion and dissemination of market values across fields of representation and social experience. The dominance of neoliberal capital is such that it is thought to subsume our capacities to imagine alter­ natives and render cultural production a site for the reproduction and naturalization of competitive market values.1 These epistemic changes under conditions of neoliberal hegemony have particular implications for the making and meaning of literature. Does it make sense to speak of an “American” literature in neoliberal times? Can literature function as either an innocent category or a privileged narrative of national imagination at a time of manifold crises for paradigms of the nation-state and of liberal capitalism? In the United States, as elsewhere, the conjunction between the nation-state, liberal capitalism, and literary form has a long history, bespeaking determinate relations between writer and reader within an imagined national community. As this community loses the coherence gained from symbolic efficiency in the age of neoliberal capital, so, too, do the parameters and possibilities of literary production and representation shift. Neoliberalism and Contemporary American Literature examines how literature both models and interrogates the neoliberal present.

  Neoliberalism and the Contemporary

  Discussions of neoliberalism can often tend toward the diffuse due to the multiple objects that the term is often marshalled to cover. Taylor Boas and Jordan Gans-Moore suggest that “Neoliberalism is commonly used in at least five different ways in the study of development: as a set of economic policies, a development model, an ideology, an academic paradigm, and an historical era. Moreover, beyond a shared emphasis on the free market and frequent connotations of radicalism and negativity, it is not immediately clear how these varied uses are interconnected.2 When the conversation turns to consider the relationship between neoliberalism and cultural production and the social reproduction of civil society, labor and class stratification, and status identities (like those involving and intertwining sex/gender or ethnoracial ones), further confusion often reigns. Such terminological spread (or incoherence) has led many critics and commentators to exasperation, questioning the value of using the term. While acknowledging the broad horizon used in considerations of neoliberalism, and the increasingly variant studies that deploy the term, we endorse its usage here. Our approach, and use of terms like “neoliberalism,” “American,” and “contemporary (literature),” to chart out social, cultural, and historical transformations can be outlined as follows through four main points.3

  Firstly, neoliberalism proposes a significantly different configuration of the relations among the State, national and world markets, the enmeshed polity and those excluded from this category, and the management of social reproduction, including cultural communications, than those found within a particular phase of liberalism, sometimes known as Fordism, that is characterized within the United States by the double hinge of the New Deal phase of the 1930s and 1940s and an ensuing military Keynesianism from the late 1940s until the first third of the 1970s. Although aspects of neoliberalism do engage with aspects of liberalism, as understood as emerging within the mid- to late-eighteenth-century arguments — often called classical political economy and exemplified by Adam Smith — the first perspective in discussions of neoliberalism must be one that places it in contrast to processes specific to the twentieth century that arose as responses to the Great Depression and its attendant socio-political emergences, such as the far-right corporate nationalism of the Nazi, Fascist, and Falangist regimes.

  Neoliberalism, consequently, should be considered within a world-systems perspective that locates contemporary America within a history of two roughly 40 to 50 years long phases that each have internal patterns of loosely equal economic contraction and expansion, and an ecology of multiple players within the world market, but chiefly these four: the United States, the USSR, Europe, and “the rest,” the nation-states later known as the Third World or, more recently, the Global South.4 The primacy of this world-systems perspective explains our use of “America,” rather than the “United States,” in this collection, which largely focuses on primary evidentiary material that has its original provenance from within the United States. We do no not use the term “America” as a form of privileged amnesia about the existence of other nation-states in the western hemisphere. To the contrary, we use “America” precisely as a gesture to indicate that the United States must always be understood constitutively within a world-systems framework. “America” is the term we use as shorthand for the United States within the world-system.

  The two phases in this consideration are firstly that between 1929 and the mid­1960s/mid-1970s, involving an inflection period of 1944–1949, as the time between the Bretton Woods Conference and the formation of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). The next phase can be considered as existing between the manifest crises of the early 1970s of stagflation and petro-shock and the financial crises of 2008–2011, involving an inflection period around the 1989 fall of the Soviet imperial system and formal end to the Cold War, typified by the reunification of the two Germanys (more on this periodization to follow). Concatenating these longer phases is an overlapping phase from the mid-1960s and mid-1970s, which belongs to both of the other longer sequences. This mini-Sattelzeit is likewise analogous in function to the phase from the early 2010s through the composition of this collection. While we decline to be hostage to fortune and make predictions about whether neoliberalism, as we understand the term, is a spent force now, in its last gasps, or is about to be reinstated for a third, longer cycle, we do believe that the 2010s stand as a linking moment between two greater cycles. Hence, we use the term “contemporary,” not in the mere sense of the recent, but as a way of isolating the span of years as different from that ranging from the 1970s through the first decade of the twenty-first century. We, thus, inferentially propose a reason for why the mid-1960s–mid-1970s, as a prior bridging time, might be intriguingly comparative to our ongoing experience within another bridging phase.

  Secondly, neoliberalism shifts an understanding of the marketplace away from the initial anti-mercantilist and anti-physiocratic predicates established through eighteenth-century Smithian laissez-faire. This early version of liberalism proposed that the marketplace be seen as a realm that deserved to be protected from the (absolutist) States, since while the marketplace was always catalyzed by selfish desires, when these were expanded beyond the sole prerogative of the old regime court, they would, nonetheless, establish a cooperative and civilizing social equilibrium. The slightly later utilitarian respondents to Smith proposed a return to some forms of intervention by the “free trade” projects of the post-Napoleonic State and its imperial expansionism by seeking mathematical calculations of the balance between the individual’s grasping desire and social harmony. Partly as a response to the ensuing phase of scientific racism as deployed by far-right collectivism in the early to mid-twentieth century, many of those conveyed as neoliberals proposed an altered relation between the State and the marketplace by elevating the competitive marketplace as (paradoxically) both a natural phenomenon greater than all others and a necessary fabrication of profit accumulation that should inform all aspects of State and civil society processes. One difficulty of ascertaining the historical particularity of neoliberalism is that while it emerges as a response to the conditions of the 1930s, it does so by excavating (and somewhat inventing) the terms of eighteenth-century political economy, precisely to erase an intervening history of different configurations of the economy, the State, civil society, and international relations.

  Thirdly, as parcel to what was just outlined, a significant and highly consequential feature of neoliberalism is the radical dissolution of public and private distinctions to form what might be called privatized publicness, involving the erasure of ostensibly protected realms of exclusion from both the State and the marketplace, be these the commons of rural or urban spaces, civil society, or the interiority of Romantic era subjectivity, intimacy, and creative inter-relationality, one form of which is the Bildungsroman. Once the authenticity of an inward “self” or collective (social and “natural”) environment is degraded or falsified, a newly conglomerated field made by the fusion of the two sides, a new mass publicness, is then turned over to the competitive market, a new mass private property-ness. The individual that was previously bifurcated into a public role and a private self is placed entirely, on the one hand, into a new field, a social network, but, on the other, this domain is entirely organized by profit-seeking predicates.

  In this erasure of the separation between the public and private, Wendy Brown has argued that a fundamental feature of neoliberalism involves its antagonism to the demos and driven efforts to disenfranchise the collective.5 While agreeing with the point of this claim, we hesitate over its terms, for Brown unproblematically uses the term “democracy” for what is actually meant as postwar liberalism, a system that as Sarah Brouillette, among others, has reminded us was hardly free from structuring multiple kinds of social inequalities and non-democratic forms of governance.6 Furthermore, it bears remembering that many of the figures initially promulgating neoliberal claims had experienced the horrors of Europe’s authoritarian populist regimes during the 1930s and 1940s. If many neoliberals were disinclined to encourage public participation in the allocation of social resources, their traumatic past experiences help provide a context for their hesitations over the public sphere. Similarly, many European neoliberal advocates’ concern to prevent corporate monopolies emerged from anxieties about the consequences of the State and its citizenry fusing as tightly as it had in the corporatist (Nazi, Fascist, Falangist) State. The desire for catalyzing competition among individuals may be unquestionably carried to sociopathic extremes within neoliberalism, but may also have been presented initially as an attractive interruption of the centripetal force of far right-wing nationalist racisms.

  In this discussion of the collapse of the public-private distinction, many accounts of neoliberalism feel it necessary to fall into two camps of emphasis. One Marxist tendency highlights neoliberal production of economic inequalities and marketizing directives. Another Foucauldian approach highlights neoliberal alteration of governmentality and behavioral conducts. Rather than seek to adjudicate the superiority or appositeness of one strand over another, or even attempt a new synthesis, this collection seeks to show that these perspectives should be read as always conjoined aspects of a many-sided social phenomenon.7 To overcome this antimony, we recall Michel Aglietta’s useful consideration, in his discussion of the crisis of Fordism and the onset of a new regime (which in 1998 he still called “globalization”), of the necessary intertwining between an economic regime of accumulation and a sociocultural mode of regulation.8

  Our fourth touchstone insists that the shifts described are simultaneously constituted by and experienced through the entire constellation of social reproduction arenas, involving sex/gender roles, the acts, rituals, and credentializing passages constituted as socializing, nurturing, caring, and marking developmental phases, especially those of nationality and citizenship; the role of educational institutions as supervising personal formation and bureaucratic professionalization; forms of domestic policing and internment; labor identities; non-electoral forms of civic engagement and exclusion; and all modes of cultural communication and transmission, in which those documents consecrated as “literature” stand as a remarkably small category, especially in its nationalist exceptionalist formations. While multiple rearrangements of these factors exist, the one that is especially salient for this collection is the expansion of the personal debt-driven consumer marketplace that is substantially different from the 1930s–mid-1970s period. No simple return to New Deal Keynesianism is possible because these macroeconomic policies were designed for Western polities in which there was a vastly reduced field of consumer choices and access to personal credit. Credit was still largely a matter for States and corporations, and individuals either acquired it only within a highly regulated market for a small set of long duration goods (housing and transportation being the two largest) or an informal market (layaway plans, for instance) for others. The massification of personal credit marks a key transition in the United States towards neoliberalism as it reduced the experience of being “broke” in the mid-twentieth century to being “indebted” in the neoliberal era. While discourses of financialization often attend to the proliferation of fictitious capital at the high end of the marketplace, we also want to draw attention to its granularity on individuals in this time.

  Mitchum Huehls and Rachel Greenwald Smith have recently considered neoliberalism and American literature through a four-phase or stage model in which neoliberalism appears and moves sequentially through what they call the economic, the political-ideological, the sociocultural, and the ontological.9 While admitting the presence of German-language neoliberalism, they see the period before the 1970s as one of “theoretical utopianism,” ideas about the economy that were still mainly contained within academic debates.10 From the 1970s onwards, Huehls and Greenwald Smith see an expansion of neoliberalism into electoral politics leading to the ascension of Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher. From here, neoliberal ideas began, according to them, to be brought into official policies. Once instantiated through State interventions, neoliberalism seeped into the cultural realm, where it spread to now stand as a current ontological horizon. In this scheme, they consider American literature of each moment as exemplifying the state of the neoliberal spread. Yet as initially compelling or commonsensical to anglophones as is their historical narrative, we do not endorse it for three reasons.

  Firstly, as we will explain, the notion that neoliberalism was mainly a conceptual formation before becoming political policy during the rule of Reagan and Thatcher profoundly mistakes its actual history, especially with regards Germany, in order to shoehorn it into an otherwise conventional (declension) tale of American exceptionalism. Secondly, the charting of illustrative titles to read off the presence of other primary processes makes cultural production secondary and always belated to other (economic, political, and intellectual) realms in ways that reinstate a base-superstructure or reflection theory model that would otherwise be avoided in contemporary cultural and materialist studies. Thirdly, the categories, and especially that of “ontology,” overly homogenize cultural productions, which in actuality always contain a varied mixture of thematic, theoretical, and transformative responses to a spectrum of residual, emergent, and dominant social aspects. The keyword “ontology” seems to function as an unsatisfactory replacement for what Patricia Ventura, in her discussion of neoliberal culture, has named a “structure of feeling,” a term that better captures the manner in which hegemonic consent, counter-hegemonic discontent, and class realignments or blocs are constructed.11 Lastly, the ontological seems to consider the current moment as one of post-history and without exit. Such a capitulation to this final stage notion misreads the host of self-consciously, anti-neoliberal alternatives and social movements emerging recently, as well as other disruptive challenges, not the least of which being the ecological crisis. Rather than approach the discussion about neoliberalism and cultural production through imposed and abstract categories, we instead propose a chronology involving the rhythms of capitalist crisis and altering class relations, as seen through a world-systems perspective.

  A Brief Outline of Neoliberalism Phase I: 1929–(1944–1949)–mid-1960s

  We do not see the bundle of macroeconomic ideas captured within the term Keynesianism and the ones under the term neoliberalism as sequential, but instead as contemporaneous, and often interdependent, responses to the general economic crisis of the Great Depression and the socio-political catastrophe of the rise of the European (Nazi, Fascist, and Falangist) far-right, alongside the rising military aggression of Hirohito’s Japan. Within the vortex of this political and economic crisis, there were complex, often internally contradictory, partial, and provisional responses. One strand that became dominant in the anglophone realms is conventionally clustered under the names of the New Deal in the United States and the Keynesian Welfare State in the United Kingdom. These plans broadly sought to restore and undergird Fordist regimes of capitalist accumulation and their attendant composition of class relations and social reproduction schemes by engaging in massive State interventions to create employment and stimulate a controlled consumer market. Stalinist Russia had its own, not entirely dissimilar, version of command macroeconomics.

  In the later years of the Weimar Republic, a set of German-speaking figures including Alexander Rüstow (credited with the first use of the term neoliberalism at the 1938 Colloque Walter Lippmann), Wilhelm Röpke, and Walter Eucken, argued for an “authoritarian-liberal” program that would grant State bureaucracies a much reduced role in economic planning.12 While this group splintered during the Hitler era, they reconvened after the war, and began shifting away from some of their pre-war positions. These figures are sometimes known as the “Freiburg School,” where several taught, but are also called ordoliberals, in reference to their 1948-founded house journal, Ordo: Jahrbuch für die Ordnung von Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft (Yearbook for the Arrangement of Economy and Society) where they honed their ideas into a more recognizable and coherent perspective.13

  Yet these elaborations of the ordoliberals’ theories in the 1950s were themselves somewhat belated exercises in relation to enacted State policy through the late 1940s and early 1950s, which gave concrete shape to a cluster of somewhat impressionistically posed pre-war neoliberal claims. Bavarian Ludwig Erhard became the “spokesperson of the creed of the neoliberals in German and European politics” in his sequential roles as the leader of the Allied Bizone’s Special Office for Money and Credit (1947–1948), director of economics for the Bizone Economic Council (1948–1949), Economics Minister under Konrad Adenauer (1949–1963), Vice-Chancellor (1957– 1963) and Chancellor (1963–1966).14 If ordoliberal formulations and axiomatic predicates became cemented throughout the 1950s, this was enabled as a result of watching their claims be enacted as State directives. Here, theory followed practice in many ways. Furthermore, Erhard’s imposition of neoliberal perspectives within the slogan of a “social market” was arguably foundational in the cementing of the Cold War. In 1948, he removed “the entire structure of Nazi-era price and wage controls, while slashing taxes on incomes and capital, establishing what has since been celebrated as a deregulatory tabula rasa.”15 The consequences were immediate since “three days later, the Russians established the Berlin blockade, in order to contain the effects of currency reform, triggering the beginning of the Cold War.”16

  This brief review of ordoliberals as neoliberals looks to make three points relevant to this collection. Firstly, it is the significant failure of most anglophone genealogies of neoliberalism to recognize the role of neoliberalism as sanctioned (West) German State policy throughout the Wirtschaftswunder (economic miracle) postwar phase. Anglophone accounts typically tell a tale of a small group of European intellectuals huddled together in marginal safe spaces, like the Mont Perelin Society, until some, like Friedrich Hayek, came to the United States where they could mentor Americans, like Milton Friedman, who then, in turn, influenced American (and British) politics. Such a reading is not only rife with Anglocentric prejudices and exceptionalism, but it fundamentally overlooks the ways in which conceptual paradigms and State policy intertwined to variously lead one another long before the 1970s. Secondly, this amnesia about the actual history of the postwar West has made it hard to see that the military Keynesianism of postwar America was complementary to, and, in fact, existed because of German neoliberalism. Ordoliberal polices and aversion to central bureaucratic oversight, including price controls, can be seen as wholly integral to the 4 Ds policy of the Allies with regards to Germany: decentralization, democratization, denazification, and demilitarization. Hence, American-led “liberalism” after 1946 depended on the success of German neoliberalism, as the German abandonment of nationalist protections was the necessary feature on which the postwar American export economy depended.17 Accounts that present neoliberalism as appearing after liberalism or as mutually incompatible are basically untenable with any basic history of the late 1940s onwards.

  Thirdly, the interlacing of American (and British) liberalism and German neoliberalism was also made possible by two other key world-systemic features: the Cold War and the onset of decolonization and the Bandung Era (1950–1970s). Erhard’s policies created the foundation on which American hegemony through the Cold War was initially built. Additionally, Quinn Slobodian contends that it was the rise of decolonizing nationalist movements after World War II that provided an incitement, challenge, and counterweight to the postwar world-system otherwise formed by the United States, Europe, and the USSR. By following Slobodian, and insisting on the constitutive effect of the Bandung era’s decolonization, we seek to revise Naomi Klein’s dating of neoliberal intervention in State policy with Augusto Pinochet’s 1973 coup in Chile as too late a dating of the role of the so-called Third World in shaping the global ecology for neoliberalism. In reality, all four geographic spheres created pressures and limits, opportunities and incentives, for varying models of the relation of the nation-state to the capitalist world-market shaped by long-spiral economic expansions and contractions.

  Even within America, neoliberal influence was already key to shaping the environment far before the 1970s. Business interests that had been contained throughout the New Deal and war years saw the transition towards military Keynesianism as their chance to weaken their enemies, as seen with the so-called textbook controversy. In 1947, Lorie Tarshis, a Canadian-born student of Keynes at Cambridge who then became an American citizen and a Tufts professor, published The Elements of Economics: An Introduction to the Theory of Price and Employment, the first textbook to introduce American undergraduates to Keynesian principles. Initially adopted widely, Tarshis’s reader-friendly book immediately became the target of a successful red-baiting campaign to remove it from American syllabi. Mindful of how Tarshis’s book had been written for a broad audience, Paul A. Samuelson wrote his own textbook, Economics: An Introductory Analysis (1948), in far more technical and statistical language, so as to avoid attack from the right. Samuelson’s book then became the standard introduction to economics for American undergraduates for generations, with sales in the millions over its numerous editions, and becoming the template for economics textbooks for all ensuing (American) college textbooks.18 Yet British Keynesians complained that Samuelson had misrepresented their claims, and Catherine Lawson argues that monetarist, neoliberal interventions in the 1970s were successful because Samuelson’s canonical version of Keynes did not have responses to the crisis that Tarshis’s text could have provided, had it been more widely known and influential. In this way, American advocates for neoliberalism were able to powerfully shape and weaken Keynesian thought, even within the 1940s, by contesting it at the point of cultural influence at the undergraduate level.

  Neoliberal thought was also widely circulated to popular audiences in the 1940s. Reader’s Digest published a condensed version of Hayek’s The Road to Serfdom (1944) in its April 1945 issue, thus giving it a mass-market dissemination that few other economists had ever had at that point.19 This abbreviation then sold in the millions through Book of the Month club reprints that cost five cents, and General Motors paid for an illustrated “The Road to Serfdom in Cartoons” that was reproduced, in turn, in Look magazine in 1945.20 As a result, when Hayek came to America for his first lecture circuit, he unexpectedly discovered that his speaking venues had been changed to accommodate audiences in the hundreds.21 As a result of the digest, Midwestern businessman Harold Luhnow, now in charge of the Volker Fund, had the Fund heavily finance links between ordoliberals and Americans. Luhnow paid for all of Hayek’s expenses during the 1946 speaking tour.22 The Volker Fund would then go on to underwrite Hayek’s academic position at the University of Chicago and ordoliberal Ludwig von Mises’s at New York University, so that Hayek’s “entire ten years at Chicago were financed exclusively by Luhnow’s ample resources.”23 When Luhnow failed to convince Hayek to write a more popular version of The Road to Serfdom, he then paid for “the project that would ultimately result in the publication of Milton Friedman’s Capitalism and Freedom.”24

  This popular dissemination of neoliberal ideas in America, even before their placement within academic economics departments, suggests that the cultural, political, and theoretical movements are not easily isolated from one another or easily separated into a developmental sequence. The sorties between New Deal and military Keynesian positions and neoliberal ones begin to lose their efficacy, however, during the 1960s.

  The Hinge (mid-1960s to mid-1970s) and Neoliberalism’s Second Phase (mid-1960s to 2008/2010s)

  A conventional and usually dominant narrative has the first victories and policy installations of neoliberal thought as occurring during the conjunctural crises of the early 1970s. As a result of a more confident American labor force’s pay demands, increasing insistence for the expansion of civil and working rights by social factors, mainly women and racial minorities, and the costs of prolonged military engagement in Vietnam, the US-organized world-system faced a crisis of decreasing profitability.25 Nixon’s 1971 abandonment of the gold standard, as parcel to the dismantling of the Bretton Woods currency system conjoined with the oil embargo of 1973–1974, which set off an Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) retaliation for American support for the State of Israel during the Yom Kippur War, suggested that Keynesian macroeconomics was bereft of a functioning response to stagflation of rising prices and unemployment. American neoliberals, like Milton Friedman, seized the day as a chance to finally replace long-established Keynesian principles. From this period, neoliberalism was primarily directed to dismantling the working class’s economic, social, and political achievements and life security provisions.

  The seismic events of the early 1970s seem obvious markers of the first segment of a new cycle’s downward, contractive phase. Yet we consider the crisis of the early 1970s as manifestations of pressures, what Alain Lipietz calls a “latent erosion,” that were already in formation from the mid-1960s, involving the downturn in profitability.26 The mid-1960s until the mid-1970s has a dual character as an overlapping period that contains both the last downwards segment of the prior long phase from 1929, while also initiating the next one. On one hand, the world-systemic configuration that had girded the postwar system began to buckle under multiple points of fracture. In the USSR, Brezhnev’s 1964 ascension put a coda to the particular Cold War organization that had held throughout Khrushchev’s rule. The changed ecology, as a result of a different shape of USSR policy, synchronized with increasing dissatisfaction within Germany over Erhard’s neoliberal regime and desire for a new kind of Ostpolitik, as advanced by Willy Brandt. Erhard lost the chancellorship in 1966, and while the Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands (SPD’s) Brandt did not formally take over until 1969, Germany’s neoliberalism began to be replaced by renewed social welfare provisions. Jamie Peck says that, “Ordo histories recount [Erhard’s] exit from office, in 1966, coincided with the country’s surrender to the evils of bureaucratic intervention, welfarism, overregulation, and ‘penal’ levels of taxation.”27 Not coincidentally, the Group of 77 was also formed in 1964, amidst civil rights campaigns in the United States.

  The catalyst year of 1968 emerges as the manifestation of world-systemic pressures in all its components as signaling the accelerating collapse of US-hegemonic liberalism’s dominance, as well as the onset of neoliberalism from being the policy carried out by a European junior partner to insurgent presence within America. We think this mini-periodization of a brief Sattelzeit, or transistor period, within the inter-decade years and involving the overlapping of the mid-1960s as the last phase of a long period as well as standing as the prelude and first notes of another one, from the 1970s onwards, helps clarify what has long been a topic of confusion over when to date the onset of postmodern cultural products.

  Furthermore, the introduction of the idea of a concatenating phase of combined and uneven development helps clarify our present moment and the purposes of this collection, for we see the 2010s, analogously, as the last phase of a long cycle and the start of either a third neoliberal phase or of something else entirely. For our purposes, though, it is the particularities of this temporal mixture that we seek to indicate by using the keyword “contemporary,” which means more than merely now in our title. If some today believe that neoliberalism as a term lacks purchase, then this turn away from the phase partially captures a truth, though not necessarily about the absence of neoliberalism, but that we are currently within a time of reformulation, much like the mid-1960s to the mid-1970s.

  To return to the moment after this hinge or saddle period between the first and second phases of neoliberalism, we date the first half of the second phase as running between the early and mid-1970s and the mid-1990s. This phase can be essentially characterized as the great unwiring of the advances and conditions that the American working class secured during the New Deal and postwar military Keynesianism. Though this period has its own set of conjunctural moments, the broadest strokes also involve the opening up of nation-statist protections that were characterized at the time as “globalization.”28 This phase’s inflection point comes with the 1989 end of the Soviet empire, which removed the last of the Cold War protections against jobs competition that the American and Western European laboring class had, as now East European laborers were available to the West in ways that facilitated downwards wage pressures. If the immediate years after 1989 involve the wrapping up of this contracting segment, the mid-1990s stand as the start of an expansive phase. In this phase, however, the neoliberal practices that were initially directed against the working class now begin to be turned against the middle class, so that the mid-1990s marks the start of the middle class’s decline in absolute numbers and influence, stalling social mobility, and the rise of the conditions of inequality that match the pre-1929 period.29 Characteristic features here are Bill Clinton’s concluding blow to the American working class in the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act of 1996 and opening salvo against the middle class with the dissolution of the 1933 Glass-Steagall protections in the Gramm-Leach-Bailey Act of 1999. In terms of cultural transformations, the Telecommunications Act of 1996 massively deregulated the media environment, kickstarting a new so-called Golden Age of prestige television marked by the screening in 1997 of HBO’s Oz. Cable television’s rise can be taken as the medium par excellence for registering the class decomposition of the middle class, so that the 1990 start of the tale of Tony Soprano resonates with its viewers in ways that the 1983 Scarface did not. Similarly, in terms of new cultural modes of production, the mass market digital age can be said to begin with the 1995 introduction of DVDs and America Online’s move in late 1996 from charging hourly fees for the internet to a flat monthly fee, a move that accelerated use of the internet, now newly equipped with visual browsers, rather than text hyperlinks, to access and navigate the World Wide Web.

  The phase of the mid-1990s leads to its conclusion with the 2008 crash and the few years of instability. We contend that “the contemporary” should be understood as the period roughly from 2011 onwards, as either a bridge to a new phase or a significant turn away from the liberal-neoliberal couplet that has shaped the world-system since the 1930s. Markers of this new phase involve the contained Arab Springs of 2010, Occupy Wall Street 2011, and the return of Vladimir Putin to the Russian presidency in 2012. These years also saw the onset of social media with Twitter’s 2011 new implementation leading to a 2013 initial public offering (IPO), in the wake of Facebook’s 2012 IPO, and Google’s 2011 launch of Google+. From here the start of the so-called gig economy, with the rise of zero-hour jobs. Similarly, concerns over automation and its creation of a jobless future now begin, as a sign of the incipient algorithmic age. It is to this period that our questions about the form and content of American literature today properly belong.

  Neoliberalism and Contemporary American Literature

  This volume examines relations between American literature and the neoliberal present. It identifies new relations between economic rationalities and literary forms; it considers ways in which literature gives form to barely legible processes of economic activity and illuminates the cultural dream work of neoliberal capitalism, which works to restructure political desires and fantasies and mystify economic inequalities. Has literary realism, for instance, been exhausted as a narrative form capable of being commensurate to the time and space of neoliberalism? Can contemporary literature still imagine either the end of capitalism or an alternative to it? Several of the authors here comment on the limits of representation circumscribed by contemporary “capitalist realism.”30 In doing so, they reflect a broader impetus (by writers and scholars alike) to identify what remains of the critical capacities of literature — to imagine, map, or challenge neoliberal ideology, beyond the consolations of literary form. In some part, this is a concern that the demos, however compromised in American liberal culture, has been all but extinguished as an active public sphere. American declension is a common motif in the literature under analysis, as is middle class precarity, both signifying a peculiarly American sense of crisis about neoliberal culture as an inescapable system of indebtedness.

  This collection also considers new formations of subjectivity and relationality, and new regimes of the body in literary representations that follow the vectors of neoliberal accumulation and biopolitical control. These include narratives of self-actualization and self-fashioning, which reflect a cultivation of individuality that equates freedom with consumer choice and lifestyle, but also reflect the severe and growing inequalities enforced by the biopolitical calculus of credit and debt. They also include narratives of geopolitical mobility and encounter in which differential norms — such as humanity and otherness — are reconfigured by neoliberal forces. Much of the literature under analysis connotes the interplay between the subject, the market, and the State as the primal drama of neoliberal hegemony and its composition of ideological norms. As such, it foregrounds the altered relations and ensuing tensions between liberal government and the free market, what Michel Foucault termed the “economic-juridical complex,” and extends this to the broader, global frictions between unfettered capital and national territory as core themes of a more “worldly” American literature, one which registers the decline in American global hegemony.

  The first two chapters offer critical perspectives on the history of thinking about neoliberalism, viewing it not primarily as a set of economic beliefs, but as a “government style.” Eli Jelly-Schapiro parses neoliberal capital in terms of three distinct but overlapping temporalities — primitive accumulation, expanded reproduction, and accumulation by fabrication — that exhibit different forms of governance. He acknowledges the appeal of concepts of the “precariat” and the “multitude” as emergent political sensibilities and collective imaginaries that offer to connect the global spaces and lifeworlds of shared depredations, and considers how these are represented in literary narratives. Stephen Shapiro carefully charts the evolution of Foucault’s thinking on neoliberalism, made challenging due to the fragmented publication of key lectures and writings, to underline that it implies a new understanding of power beyond sovereignty and discipline. Most recently, he argues, the advent of data logics and data-behaviorism marks a new phase of neoliberalism in which an algorithmic governmentality functions “without a subject,” as there is no need for a disciplinary individuality in the logic of neoliberal competition. The implications for the contemporary novel are bleak on this reading, voided of its cultural purpose of modelling the “liberal subject’s developmental interiority.”

  Jelly-Schapiro concludes his chapter with a commentary on Rachel Kushner’s novel The Flamethrowers (2013), finding in it a conjunction of the three temporalities of contemporary capitalism that he outlines. Myka Tucker-Abramson provides a lengthier analysis of the novel in her chapter, detailing how it connects disparate times and spaces, from Brazilian rubber plantations in the 1940s to social and artistic movements in New York and Italy in the 1970s to the present day, linking uneven processes of capital investment and disinvestment. The 1970s moment is pivotal, entrenching global neoliberalism, while also recalling the energies of artistic practices that critiqued the dialectics of industrialization and deindustrialization in the United States at that time. As such, Tucker-Abramson argues, the novel offers critical glimpses of the processes of economic globalization that conjoin the times and spaces of neoliberal capital accumulation, though she notes this is a reading that depends on the reader disinvesting from the protagonist’s limited comprehension so as to bring into view the background of connected historical struggles. Hamilton Carroll also explores the relation between literary and artistic modes of representation in his chapter, which looks closely at Ben Lerner’s novel 10:04 (2014), as it depicts subject formations of precarity and insecurity summoned by millennial conditions of catastrophe and risk. He focuses on how the novel represents a form of “reinvigorated realism” in its attempts to map a new social totality, using ekphrastic representation to explore the capacities and limitations of textual narrative and authorship. In the following chapter, Christian Haines is also interested in how precarity, and more particularly indebtedness, characterizes the subject positions of characters in selected writings. He argues that there is a “moral economy” to neoliberalism’s conflation of financial and social obligations, that pressures individuals to self-evaluate as human capital, and is characterized by irredeemable indebtedness. He contrasts novels by Gary Shteyngart and Don DeLillo, both of which represent desires to achieve redemption by financing extensions to biological life. Whereas Shteyngart offers a “consolatory vision” of a belated and vulnerable mortality undervalued by the speculative class, DeLillo foregrounds affinities between aesthetic and financial risk and speculation and makes of redemption itself “a financial instrument.”

  Donald Pease provides a provocative reading of what has become a canonical text of the “post­-9/11” genre, Joseph O’Neill’s Netherland (2008) As he notes, it has been widely celebrated by scholars and critics, who have valued it for moving beyond the insular, domestic formats common to the genre to confidently de-territorialize narratives of nationhood and assert a cosmopolitan vision that is indicative of a new “worlding” of American literature. This “hypercanonization” represents a very rapid accrual of cultural capital that Pease acutely questions by charging that the novel has serviced a form of fantasy work by reviewers, who projected onto it a cosmopolitan imaginary that is not inscribed in the narrative. More particularly, he argues that reviewers have (mis)identified with the character of Chuck Ramkissoon, imaginatively and emotionally buying into his dream of a post-racial America symbolized by an idealized democracy of the cricket field — a form of fantasy work that is symptomatic of neoliberalism in masking economic inequalities. It is a compelling reading that alerts us (as does Tucker-Abramson) to some tough questions about the values and assumptions shared by a liberal readership. Liam Kennedy also considers claims for the contemporary “worlding” of American literature, with critical attention to two novels, Dave Eggers’ A Hologram for the King (2012) and Joseph O’Neill’s The Dog (2014), wherein deep-seated liberal anxieties are narrativized against the backdrops of Middle Eastern settings of rapid urban development that attract international flows of speculative finance. He argues that the novels evince a distinctly American unease about the legitimacy of liberal democracy under global conditions of neoliberal capitalist hegemony. Both writers represent the worlding of the American novel as an apprehensive charting of new relations between the national and the global, wherein learned habits and values are losing their meaning and utility. This is not only an ideological unease, it is also a matter of formal uncertainty about the capacity of literary fiction to express the realities of a post-American world.

  Our final three chapters all consider how specific genres have represented globalized or planetary networks of economic interactions that trouble American hegemony. Caren Irr examines how crime fiction depicts narratives of human trafficking, particularly as they represent neoliberal forms of labor exploitation. In the “anti-trafficking discourse” of this literature she detects homologies with “neoliberal discourses of market freedom and US hegemony.” In the novels she notes the prevalence of rescue plots, passive victims, prostitution stories, and the fantasy that labor in the laissez-faire market will restore freedom and dignity. Correspondingly, many of the novels signify limitations of agency and insight among State actors in the investigative plots, most notably the police investigators whose belated moral authority contrasts with the troubling depiction of traffickers as neoliberal entrepreneurs. Yet the commonplace depiction of trafficking as a moral panic also justifies State violence, a reassertion of American power/hegemony that does not conceal the tensions between unfettered capital and State agencies. The global interconnectedness of indebted exchanges that Irr identifies in the world of traffickers in crime fiction is echoed in Sharae Deckard’s examples of science fiction in Karen Russell’s novella Sleep Donation (2014) and Alex Rivera’s film Sleep Dealer (2008). These texts understand sleep as a commodity, reflecting its value under the “insomniac conditions” of neoliberal efforts to maximize labor in “24/7” environments. In Sleep Donation, set in an insomnia-plagued America, the sleepless consumers embody the anxious subjectivity of the growing middle­class precariat and more particularly the erosion of healthcare. The sleep crisis induces terrors that are subject to State securitization and also link to a global ecological crisis of exhausted resources and extreme forms of extraction. Where Russell imagines the future effects of insomnia at financialized capital’s core, Rivera’s cinematic “science fiction from below” imagines intensified extraction at the semi-periphery, as an industry of virtual reality factories on the Mexican border where overworked “cybraceros” labor ceaselessly. Sleep Dealer satirizes the “American Dream of virtual outsourcing,” foregrounding the violated bodies and psyches of the Mexican workers, and presents a vision of the future that is dystopian, yet not without possibilities of collective political agency. Dan Hassler-Forest also takes up the question of how science fiction can imagine alternative futures, especially as a counterforce to the sense of futurelessness that is entailed by neoliberalism’s “ideology of the present” and perpetual indebtedness. He argues that the genre’s “utopian imaginary” retains value as speculative fiction that is imaginatively “post-capitalist” and notes in particular its capacity for “world-building,” creating evolving systems of socio-economic relations, and that it is not necessarily focused on the individual human psyche. He looks in some detail at the work of Kim Stanley Robinson and in particular his Mars trilogy, which is written in response to the development of global capitalism, and seeks the limit points of capitalism’s speculative and exploitative expansion and accumulation in logics of accelerationism and posthumanism. Like Rivera, Robinson grounds techno-futurism in the ecological crises of the present, refuting science fiction’s imperialist history, and finds hope as well as despair in neoliberalism’s (American) declensions.

  
  Citation: Kennedy, Liam, and Stephen Shapiro. “Introduction.” In Neoliberalism and Contemporary American Literature, edited by Liam Kennedy and Stephen Shapiro. Hanover, New Hampshire: Dartmouth College Press, 2019. https://pub.dartmouth.edu/ncal/introduction.