What Goodman Should Have Said about Representation Douglas Arrell The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, Vol. 46, No. 1. (Autumn, 1987), pp. 41-49. Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0021-8529%28198723%2946%3A1%3C41%3AWGSHSA%3E2.0.CO%3B2-V The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism is currently published by The American Society for Aesthetics.
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DOUGLAS ARRELL
What Goodman Should Have Said
About Representation
NELSON GOODMAN'S THEORY of pictorial representation is the best known and most widely rejected feature of his aesthetics.' His contention that representation is a form of denotation has achieved notoriety rather than acceptance. A survey of some forty of the articles and reviews which appeared in the wake of Languages of Art reveals that in about threequarters of them this theory was a major topic of concern, and that overwhelmingly, the concern was to refute it; indeed, it is hard to find a clear-cut case of someone agreeing with it.2 There is a danger, I think, that Goodman may go down in the history of aesthetics, like many aestheticians before him, primarily as the inventor of a discredited theory-in this case the extreme "conventionalist" theory of representation-to be ceremonially refuted for the benefit of succesive generations of aesthetics students. This fate would be unfortunate, because there is a great deal in Goodman's aesthetics besides his theory of representation. In this essay, I shall argue that this theory is an aberration; it is not an organic part of Goodman's philosophy of art, but is something imposed from without. In fact, Goodman had in hand a perfectly good alternative theory of representation, one which explains all the features of pictures he wants to explain while avoiding the objections aroused by his denotative theory. This alternative is one which Goodman comes very close to enunciating, and it is consonant with his general treatment of reference. I shall suggest that Goodman opts for the extreme and unconvincing view that representation is purely a matter of denotation only because he was impelled to do so by a powerful external force: his allegiance to nomDOUGLAS ARRELI. is associate professor of theatre and drama at the University of Winnipeg.
inalism. The sole virtue of the theory is that it makes credible an aspect of nominalism which would otherwise be incredible. Nominalism is itself an extreme and not widely held theory. For those of us who are not nominalists, Goodman's theory of representation is unnecessary; the Goodmanesque alternative I propose is not only less objectionable, but it also brings into clearer prominence what I regard as Goodman's most significant contribution to aesthetics. The first problem we face in considering Goodman's treatment of representation is that of determining precisely what he means by "denotation." In Languages of Art he nowhere defines the term, and indeed his treatment of it is somewhat circular. In the first chapter, where most of the discussion of representation takes place, he informs us that "not until the next chapter will denotation be distinguished from other varieties of reference" (p. 5n).j But in this latter chapter, exemplification, the only other form of reference extensively discussed by Goodman, is primarily defined as a reverse form of denotation. In a recent writing he seems to equate denotation with the "common relationship of applying to or standing for."4 But such a definition surely applies to all forms of reference, and Goodman is emphatic that denotation is only one of a number of such forms. He does hint at a distinctive feature of denotative reference in a passage in Languages of Art comparing denotation and exemplification. Denotation, he says, is "free" in a way that exemplification is not; we can let anything denote anything else, while only something antecedently denoted by a predicate can exemplify that predicate (pp. 58-59). From hints such as this, most of Goodman's commentators have concluded, I think correctly, that by "denotation" he means arbitrary or purely
O 1987 The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism
42 conventional reference, reference which does not depend on any preexisting relationship between symbol and referent. This is the same sort of reference that Peirce attributes to "symbols"; a "symbol" is a sign "whose special significance or fitness to represent just what it does represent lies in nothing but the very fact of there being a habit, disposition, or other effective general rule that it will be so , Goodman agrees with interpreted. ""ertainly Peirce that a denotative symbol does not depend for its reference to its object on the presence of resemblance between symbol and object; his central argument in the first chapter of Languages of Art clearly assumes that if resemblance between symbol and referent were necessary for representation, then representation could not be a form of denotation. Note, however, that unlike Peirce, Goodman does not imply that a denotative symbol cannot resemble what it refers to. For Peirce, a picture's resemblance to an object determines its reference to that object; this reference consequently is not denotation. For Goodman, the fact that a picture may happen to resemble an object has nothing to do with its being a representation of that object; this referential relationship is determined solely by the picture's participation in a conventional symbol system similar to the symbol systems of verbal languages, and consequently is a form of denotation. The arbitrary nature of denotation for Goodman is confirmed when we consider the role which denotation plays in Goodman's nominalism. Let us assume for the moment that resemblance between two objects depends on some sharing of properties between the two objects. A central thesis of nominalism is that statements about properties can be replaced by statements about predicates. The statement "this object is green" is found on analysis to be equivalent to the statement "this object is denoted by the predicate '(is) green'. " In effect, for Goodman, properties are disguised instances of denotation, and have no existence apart from denotation. Obviously, then, denotation for the nominalist cannot depend on any prior sharing of properties between denotator and referent. Nor does it seem likely that any other relationship between symbol and object could antecede the latter's (apparent) possession of properties; hence, for the nominalist,
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denotation must be purely arbitrary. But would Goodman agree with our assumption that resemblance depends on the sharing of properties6 between the two resembling objects? The concept of resemblance (or similarity) is discussed by Goodman in his essay, "Seven Strictures on Similarity." He argues here that similarity is always "relative, variable, and culture-dependent";' whether or not we regard two things as similar depends on the context in which we perceive them. He does not reject the notion that similarity involves the sharing of properties between the two resembling objects; but he argues that since "every two things have some property in common," the statement "two objects are similar when they have at least one property in common" is empty and useless.' Rather, he says, the shared properties which cause us to regard two objects as similar vary from context to context: Consider baggage at an airport check-in station. The spectator may notice shape, size, color, material, and even make of luggage; the pilot is more concerned with weight, and the passenger with destination and ownership. Which pieces of baggage are more alike than others depends not only upon what properties they share, but upon who makes the comparison, and when.9
We might derive from Goodman's discussion of similarity some such definition as the following: "two objects are similar when they are perceived in a context in which one or more of their shared properties are noticed." Thus, Goodman's relativization of the concept of similarity places emphasis on the act of noticing; objects are similar when their shared properties are noticed, and otherwise not. Note that, even assuming this relativized version of resemblance, if resemblance is necessary for representation, representation is still not a form of denotation as Goodman uses the term. Resemblance in this sense involves the noticing of properties shared between two objects. If representation depends on our noticing the properties shared between symbol and referent, representation still depends on the prior sharing of those properties, and is not purely arbitrary. The effect of making resemblance relative is merely to make a symbol's status as a denotator or a representation also relative; it is a denotator if we do not notice the shared
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What Goodman Should Have Said About Representation
properties, and a representation if we do. But representation remains essentially bound up with the presense of a prior sharing of properties between symbol and referent, since we only call a symbol a representation when this relationship is clear to us. The curious feature of Goodman's use of the term "resemblance" in Languages of Art is that here he seems to assume precisely the absolute sense of the term he is concerned to attack in "Seven Strictures on Similarity." Thus, consider the famous statement, "A Constable painting of Marlborough Castle is more like any other picture than it is like the Castle" (p. 5). Surely, it depends on the context whether we notice the properties of the painting which make it similar to the Castle or similar to another picture. l o This seemingly willful ignoring of the relativity of resemblance is found also in Goodman's main arguments against the notion that resemblance is necessary for representation. For example, he cites the fact that realism in art varies from one culture to another, and that paintings initially regarded as unrealistic may come to seem realistic (pp. 33-38). If similarity were some absolute property of things, then the variability and culture-dependence of realism might trouble our assumption that realistic paintings must resemble their subjects. But, obviously, realism may vary from culture to culture and period to period simply because the shared properties noticed by artists and audiences in these cultures or periods may also vary. In other words, the variability of realism is most easily explained by the variability of resemblance, as demonstrated by Goodman himself in "Seven Strictures on Similarity. " Similarly, Goodman argues from the fact that there are properties of pictures that are not shared by their subjects to the conclusion that pictures need not resemble their subjects; thus, vertical perspective is a property of landscapes which is not, according to Goodman, shared by landscape pictures, and hence, he implies, the dependence of picturing on resemblance is thrown into question (pp. 15-19). This argument assumes that similarity depends simply on the sharing of properties. But according to the relativized view of resemblance, similarity depends only on the noticing of shared properties. And surely, the point about vertical perspective in paintings is pre-
cisely that we do not notice it---or rather, we do not notice its absence. We do notice certain other shared properties, and it is on the basis of these that we say the painting resembles what it represents. There is thus a puzzle in Goodman's treatment of representation. In the context of the rest of his thought, one would have expected him to argue that representation, like resemblance, is relative. Whether or not a symbol represents qn object depends upon whether it is perceived in a context in which the properties shared by symbol and referent are noticed or not. Perversely, however, Goodman wants to argue that no shared properties at all need be involved in our perception of pictures and their referents; resemblance is not necessary for representation. And he supports his argument by a treatment of resemblance which denies its relativistic status. This is why I have called Goodman's theory of representation an "aberration" ; his argument for it is unconvincing precisely because it ignores the relativistic view of resemblance which he elsewhere argues for so powerfully. In a recent writing, a reply to a criticism by Monroe Beardsley, Goodman states: To Beardsley's proposal to distinguish depiction--or what we usually consider to be "naturalistic" or "realistic" representation-in terms of resemblance between picture and pictured, I have little objection so long as we bear in mind that resemblance is a variable and relative matter that as much follows as guides customs of representation.'
'
What are we to make of this passage? Here Goodman seems casually to accept--or partially accept-a theory of representation diametrically opposed to that of Languages of Art, where he devoted such effort to showing that resemblance was unnecessary to representation. Surely, the only conclusion to be drawn is that Goodman would be quite happy with a theory of representation based on his relativized treatment of resemblance-that such a theory would indeed be natural to him-if only it jibed with certain other of his philosophical preoccupations, preoccupations which were apparently in abeyance when he wrote the above passage. Let us try to develop the theory of representation that Goodman hints at in this passage. This will be a version of the resemblance theory, but one which takes into account the
44 relativity of resemblance so convincingly demonstrated by Goodman. There are, in fact, two principal problems with the resemblance theory of representation, as presented, for example, by Peirce and Charles Morris. One results from the fact that resemblance, as Goodman convincingly argues, is not sufficient for representation; two twin brothers do not represent each other. Let us accept Goodman's argument and assume that, in addition to resembling its subject, a picture must also participate in a symbol system in the context of which it refers to that subject. The second problem is that which is revealed by Goodman's demonstration that resemblance is not absolute, but depends on the shared properties we happen to notice in a particular context. Since all objects share some properties, how does it come about that we notice the properties shared by symbol and referent in the case of representation, and do not notice them in the case of denotation? Somehow a representation must specify to us which of its properties we are to notice. One of Goodman's most important contributions to our understanding of reference is his analysis of exemplification; exemplification is precisely reference from an object to one or more of its own properties. I suggest, therefore, that the theory of representation Goodman should have proposed would involve a kind of conjunction of the two fundamental forms of reference, denotation and exemplification; a representation is a symbol which refers to an object and exemplifies one or more of the properties of that object. There is a passage in Languages of Art in which Goodman seems almost deliberately to avoid adopting this view. In discussing the role of exemplification in various arts, he acknowledges that, for example, a mime's portrayal of climbing a ladder "may indeed exemplify activities involved in climbing or window-washing, as a picture may exemplify the color of a house it represents" (p. 64). But he diverts our attention from this by emphasizing that the mime's portrayal does not itself exemplify ladder-climbing; since exemplification is strictly a relationship between an object and a predicate denoting it (or property possessed by it), only actual ladder-climbing can exemplify "ladderclimbing," just as only the Duke of Wellington (and not a portrait of the Duke) can exemplify being the Duke of Wellington. But it seems to
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be on this ground alone that Goodman concludes that the miming and the portrait denote what they refer to. In other words, Goodman ignores the obvious possibility that the relationship between portrait and man may be neither exemplification nor denotation but a third kind of reference, and that this third kind, which I call "representation," may depend on the presence of the exemplified properties he notes to be shared by the picture and what it refers to. I propose, then, the following three definitions. A symbol exemplifies a property if and only if it refers to that property and possesses that property. A symbol represents an object if and only if it refers to that object and exemplifies one or more of the properties of that object. A symbol denotes an object if and only if it refers to that object and does not exemplify any of the properties of that object.'' Since these definitions represent an attempt to formulate an approach to representation which Goodman could accept, they must be regarded as applying only to nonfictive reference. Goodman's nominalism leads him to treat fictive referencei.e., reference to unicorns-as an entirely different matter from nonfictive reference. While a picture of a horse denotes horses, a picture of a unicorn merely instantiates (or, he sometimes says, exemplifies) a unicorn-picture and does not denote anything. A discussion of Goodman's argument here is beyond the scope of this paper; my proposal for the analysis of nonfictive representation and denotation neither supports nor conflicts with Goodman's treatment of fictive reference. It seems to me that the approach to representation embodied in the above definitions preserves all the important points Goodman wishes to make about pictures, and also goes some way towards resolving a number of the puzzles that contemporary discussions of pictorial representation have uncovered. First of all, the fact that an image strongly resembles an object does not mean that it represents that object. A picture of an object must participate in two symbol systems, one whereby it refers to the object and the other whereby it exemplifies properties shared by that object; it is these systems which determine whether the picture represents the object, and not the presence or absence of an abundance of properties shared between picture and object. Thus, a cloud which resembles a camel
What Goodman Should Have Said About Representation does not necessarily represent a camel, since it may neither exemplify the properties which cause us to regard it as similar to a camel, nor refer to camels; it may simply not be a character in any symbol system.I3 A portrait of the Duke of Wellington's twin brother certainly is a character in a pictorial symbol system, and it exemplifies many of the properties of the Duke of Wellington; but in our system of portraiture it does not refer to Wellington, and therefore does not represent him. No degree of resemblance between symbol and object can prove that a symbol represents the object. It is possible, in fact, for a symbol to represent an object while sharing very few properties with it. Indeed, since any two objects share some properties, in the right exemplificatory circumstances any object can represent anything else. A modem painting entitled "The Duke of Wellington" consisting of a square of blue-painted canvas could be said to represent the Duke if it were regarded as exemplifying any properties-rigidity, coldness, simplicityshared with the Duke. Moreover, not all the properties exemplified by the picture need be shared by what is represented; a caricature of Wellington as a terrier may represent Wellington if it refers to him and exemplifies some of his properties, even though most of the properties it exemplifies belong solely to terriers. Thus no degree of difference between picture and object can prove that the picture does not represent the object. Goodman's critique of the naive view of realism in art is also supported by this theory. Presumably, whether or not a painting represents an object realistically depends not upon how many properties of the object are shared or even exemplified by the painting, but upon the extent to which the properties exemplified are those conventionally associated with realisic painting in our culture. A picture of the Duke could be said to be realistic if it exemplifies the "entrenched" pictorial properties of him-as this term is used in Goodman's earlier writi n g ~ ; an ' ~ entrenched pictorial property would be one which has been exemplified in many previous realistic pictures. Thus realism is influenced, as Goodman argues, by habit, but not solely so; the picture must also noticeably share some properties with its subject. This approach clarifies a contradiction which a number of
45
commentators have found in Goodman's treatment of realism; it explains both the connection of realism with habit or convention and the apparently contradictory fact that a newly invented representational technique can seem representation which startlingly realisic.'" exemplifies the entrenched properties of an object and some property not previously exemplified both captures our habitual image of the object and adds a new visual discovery about it. It must be emphasized that the properties shared by representation and object must be exemplified, not merely possessed, by the representation. The inscription "black cat" (printed in black ink) possesses the property of blackness shared by its referent; but normally "black cat' is not perceived to exemplify blackness, and so denotes rather than represents black cats. And it must be the picture which exemplifies the property, not the object referred to. A picture of a lamb symbolizing Christ does not represent Christ (contra Goodman).'" Rather, the lamb itself could be said to represent Christ in that it refers to Him and exemplifies the shared property of being a sacrificial victim. Obviously, the picture does not exemplify this property. Only if the picture exemplified some (visual) property of Christ-if the lamb were shown wearing a crown of thorns, perhapscould it be said to represent Him. The above definitions attempt to provide sufficient as well as necessary conditions for representation. This might seem to create some difficulties. For example, suppose in a poem by a concrete poet, "black cat" printed in black ink is juxtaposed with "white cat" printed in white ink. Here "black cat" clearly does exemplify the property of blackness, and so must be said to represent rather than denote black cats. More importantly, onomatopoeia must also be regarded as a form of representation; if, in a poetic context, "murmuring breezes" is perceived to exemplify the sound of murmuring breezes, then it must also represent them. It might seem preferable to treat the reference involved in these examples as denotation which is merely embellished by a further exemplificatory reference; Goodman's original usage of "denotation," as described at the beginning of this paper, would permit this analysis, since it requires only that denotative reference not depend on any resemblance between symbol
46 and referent, and does not exclude the possibility that resemblance and denotation might coexist in the same symbol. By my definition, however, any symbol which exemplifies any properties of the object to which it refers is not a denotator, but a representation. I suggest that the problem here is essentially a terminological one. Is it a reasonable extension of the term "representation" to make it apply to onomatopoeia, or not? It seems to me that such an extension is reasonable, since there is no essential difference between using a word as a sound or a shape to represent an object, and using a painting to do the same thing; the chief difference between the examples just cited and conventional pictorial representation is that in the former case only one property of the object is exemplified, while in a painting, usually, many more are. Suppose "black cat," in addition to exemplifying the color of black cats, were printed in a distorted way so that it also exemplified the shape of cats as well. Then, surely, we would tend to call it a (possibly rudimentary) representation of a cat. It differs from a drawing of a cat only in relying for its reference to cats on the verbal system, rather than on the less well-understood pictorial system which causes us to decide whether a given painting does or does not refer to a particular object. However, if the reader is not convinced by this argument, we might not agree to extend the meaning of "representation" to cover such cases. Then my definitions would have to be modified to include some additional criterion to exclude onomatopoeia, concrete poetry, and similar cases from representation. I shall not consider here the possible nature of such a criterion; its effect would be to make the definitions more messy, but not to destroy their force. The issue raised by this problem is not the correct analysis of the reference involved in onomatopoeia or in picturing, but the correct naming of this reference; as such, the problem, however it is resolved, does not seem to me to be crucial to my argument. Of course, underlying this argument is the assumption that pictorial and exemplificatory systems do exist, and that artists and audience members have absorbed these systems and can distinguish what a painting refers to and what properties it exemplifies. The existence of these systems has been widely disputed, and a num-
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ber of distinguished commentators have suggested that Goodman fails to make a case for the role of exemplification in our experience of art. Unfortunately, Goodman himself has resisted all demands that he make the systems he talks about more concrete by explaining their origins, how they are learned, or specifically how they operate in particular art forms. Since my prime concern in this essay is to present a theory of representation which Goodman could and should accept, I shall not attempt to defend an aspect of Goodman's thought which he himself apparently does not regard as needing defense. I shall state, however, that I believe that Goodman's critics fail in their attacks on his theory of exemplification, and that the systems of symbols he refers to are capable of more concrete specification. Goodman recognizes that one weakness of his contention that representation is a form of denotation lies in the fact that it seems obvious that there is a sharp qualitative difference between a verbal description of an object and a picture of it. How can both merely denote the object? Goodman seeks to answer this question by identifying distinctive features of representational as opposed to verbal denotation. Pictorial denotation is syntactically and semantically dense and relatively replete, while verbal denotation is syntactically differentiated and normally not replete. Briefly, a symbol system is syntactically and semantically dense if its symbols are ordered on a continuum such that between any two symbols there is always a third, and if for every symbol there is a correspondingly distinct meaning; thus, the line traced by a seismograph on ungraduated paper belongs to a dense system, since between any two points on the line there is a third, and for each point there is a correspondingly distinct state of movement of the earth. A verbal system is syntactically differentiated in that its symbols are derived from a finite body of discrete characters with no infinitely graduated continuum between them. A symbol scheme is relatively replete if many aspects of the symbol have meaning. Thus, the line traced by a seismograph does not belong to a replete scheme since only one aspect of the symbolthe relative position of any point on the linehas meaning. Pictorial representation is relatively replete because in pictures the color of the
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What Goodman Should Have Said About Representation line, its thickness, its texture, the shapes it creates, its relationships to other lines and other shapes, all have meaning. Ordinary verbal language is not replete; normally, the inscription "cat" simply denotes cats, and its other properties-its color, its shape, its position on the page-have no meaning. In the work of a concrete poet, however, such properties may have meaning; in poetry, verbal language takes on greater repleteness. Thus, by distinguishing between representational and verbal denotation on the grounds of density and repleteness, Goodman hopes to counter our doubts that verbal and pictorial reference can both be subsumed under the heading of denotation. Here again, I suggest, Goodman is trying to force us to accept a strained contention while carefully avoiding a much more palatable alternative. Goodman acknowledges that exemplification isalsousually syntacticallyandsemantically dense and relatively replete (pp. 234-35). Hence, the unique properties he points to in representation need not be proof that representation is an unusual form of denotation; they may merely indicate that, as I have argued, representation depends on exemplification. In fact, I suggest that these properties can only be convincingly explained as evidence of the exemplificatory element in representation. Goodman refers to symbol systems which are syntactically and semantically dense as "analog" systems (p. 160). I would argue that, as this term implies, this type of system always depends on some noticeable sharing of properties between symbol and referent, and hence cannot be denotative in Goodman's sense of the term. Moreover, I suggest that these shared properties are exemplified by the symbol, which is therefore a representation in my sense of the term. What is exemplified by a graph is some relative increase or decrease in a variable, and this reflects the same relative increase or decrease in some variable belonging to the objects or events referred to. Thus a point on the line traced by a seismograph might exemplify being a little higher than a second point on the line, and it refers to the same relative increase in the intensity of the earth's movement. The relationship between line and movement cannot be denotation in Goodman's sense, since the reference depends on this exemplification; it is only through the exemplification of relative
changes in height corresponding to relative changes in the earth's movement that the line functions as a graph or diagram of earthquake activity. It seems that all dense reference is of this analog sort; it seems, therefore, that density of reference is always associated with exemdification. Similarly, repleteness seems much more probably associated with exemplification than with denotation. The many aspects of a picture which Goodman notes to be meaningful are surely exemplificatory; it was Goodman himself who taught us to see in pictures the exemplification of shapes, lines' colors, and textures. It is perhaps theoretically possible to imagine a denotator which refers arbitrarily to many different things at the same time by virtue of its different p r o ~ r t i e s - - s othat by being blue it denotes a tree, by being square it denotes a green tree, by being inscribed in a circle it denotes sadness. and so on. But it is much easier to imagine a symbol many of whose properties are in fact exemplifiers of those properties-so that a sad picture of a green tree exemplifies tree shape, greeness, and (metaphorically) sadness. Repleteness, like density, then, is primarily characteristic of exemplificatory reference. In showing that pictorial representation is dense and replete and that verbal denotation is neither, Goodman is in fact confirming my contention that representation depends on an exemplificatory rather than a denotative system. It remains to be explained why Goodman insists so vehemently on his contention that representation is denotation. The answer lies, as I have already suggested, in Goodman's nominalism, and in the central role denotation plays in this philosophical belief. As I have noted, for the nominalist, properties are merely disguised instances of denotation. And since we differentiate between objects on the basis of their differing propertiis, objects themselves and the world they constitute must also presumably be considered to be the product of denotation. If we were to adopt a different system of denotation, we would inhabit an entirely different world. Goodman makes many statements which imply this: "the forms of the symbol systems we think in and employ in our world-versions determine the forms of the worlds we think about and live in."" If denotation were limited -
~
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to words, this belief would be called linguistic determinism; this view, usually associated with the linguist B. L. Whorf, has been much discussed and generally rejected in cognitive psychology, primarily because people can be shown experimentally to make perceptual distinctions which they cannot communicate verbally. As an art lover, Goodman is well aware that it is in art above all that the subtleties of our perception transcend verbal language; he admits that, for example, to seek to find verbal labels for all the movements of modem dance would be "absurd" (p. 65). As a nominalist, how then can Goodman explain the existence of features of a work of art which are not denoted by words'? He must posit the existence of complex systems of nonverbal denotators to supply the symbols of which these features are the referents (e.g., p. 57). By attempting to show that pictorial representation is a form of denotation, he hopes to make convincing this idea by demonstrating the existence of nonverbal denotation in the visual realm. The theory of representation I have suggested here not only shows that it is unnecessary to posit nonverbal denotators to explain representation, but in fact casts doubt on the whole notion of nonverbal denotation of the sort Goodman's theory demands; such denotation must surely be syntactically and semantically dense, but, I have argued, there is an element of exemplification in all dense reference. It is not surprising, therefore, that Goodman shuns this approach to representation. We "platonists" have no need to avoid this approach, however. If we were to revise Languages of Art, making representation depend on the exemplification of shared properties, how would the argument of the book as a whole be affected? The most striking result would be that much more emphasis would be placed on exemplificatory reference. Exemplification is the basis not only of expression, and of the meaningfulness of "abstract" pictorial properties such as color, shape, and texture,'%ut also of representation. For Goodman, the "symptoms" of the aesthetic are syntactical and semantic density, syntactical repleteness, and exemplification; with the recognition that both density and repleteness are solely characteristic of exemplification, these symptoms would be reduced to one: art is characterized by an abundance of dense and replete exemplificatory reference. As I have already sug-
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gested, there are several difficult questions about exemplification which still require answers; hut Goodman's discovery of this form of reference remains the most promising development in contemporary semiotic aesthetics. Unless otherwise stated, by "representation" I mean nonfictive representation; Goodman's theory of fictive representation---e.g., depiction of unicorns-is a very different matter, as I shall point out later in the essay. Soren Kjorup and Richard Pelti. can he cited as rare examples of informed commentators who seem to agree with Goodman on this point. See Kjorup, "George Innes and The Battle of Hastings, or Doing Things with Pictures," The Monist 58 (1974): 216-35; and Peltz, "Nelson Goodman on Picturing, Describing and Exemplifying," Journal of Aestheric Education 6, no. 3 (July 1972): 71-86. Other apparent cases of agreement prove on closer examination to derive from the fact that the commentator attributes to Goodman a view o l representation which (in my opinion) is not compatible with denotation as Goodman understands it; see, for example, Kent Bach, "Part of What a Picture Is," Rrirish Journal c!f'Aesthetics 10 (1970): 119-37. Page numbers in parentheses refer to Nelson Goodman, Languages of Art: An Approach to a Theon. of Symbols. 2nd ed. (Indianapolis, 1976). Goodman, Of Mind and Other Matters (Cambridge. Mass., 1984), p. 80. Charles Sanders Peirce, Collected Papers (Cambridge, Mass., 1960). 4.447. Of course, as a nominalist, Goodman does not believe in the existence of properties. This does not, however, prevent him from referring to them frequently in his writings, regarding talk of properties as "slang for more careful formulations in terms of predicates" (Goodman, Problems and Projects [Indianapolis, 19721, p. 443). Nominalistically-minded readers may. if they choose. so regard the talk of properties in the remainder of this essay. Problems and Projects. p. 438. Ibid., p. 443. Ibid., p. 445. lo This point has been made by James W. Manns, "Representation, Relativism, and Resemblance," Brirish Journal of Aesthetics l l ( 1971 ): 282. " Of Mind and Other Matters. pp. 80-81. I' To this should be added the additional stipulation that a denotative symbol must not exemplify any causal relationship with its object; that is. it must not be an index in Peirce's sense. Peirce's concepts of icon and index can be saved if we modify them to include the fact that the resemblance or causal relationship involved in these signs must be exemplified by the sign, and that. in addition, the sign must refer to its object. I s Goodman several times suggests that clouds and other natural objects can represent (e.g., Languages ofArt. p. 4n); while it may be granted that clouds can represent, I suggest that they usually are not characters in symbol systems and therefore are incapable of any for111 of relerence. The issue might be resolved if Goodman were to explain exactly how he thinks symbol systems come into being, apart from specific human stipulation (e.g., " k t X
"
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What Goodman Should Have Said About Representation denote a camel"); unfortunately, G d m a n refuses to involve himself in this question, maintaining a policy of "willingly leaving to others questions about who perpetrated the systems and why" (Of Mind and Other Matters, p. 8 8 ) . j4 See Goodman, Fact, Fiction, and Forecast, 4th ed. (Cambridge. Mass., 1983). p. 94. l 5 See. for example. C. F. Presley, "Critical Notice on Languages of Art." Australasian Journal of Philosophy 48 ( 1970): 391.
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I h See Goodman, "Some Notes on Languages of Art." Problems and Projects, p. 123. l7 Of Mind and Other Matters, p. 28. See, for example, Michael Cole and Sylvia Scribner, Culture and Thought: A Psychological Introduction (New York, 1974). pp. 40-60. 19 See Goodman, Wavs of Worldmaking (Indianapolis,
1978), p. 65.
