Wolfgang Raible

Texte schreiben – Texte verstehen. Sprachliche und psycholinguistische Grundlagen

Vorlesung 16. Juli 2002

Nelson, Katherine (ed.). 1989.

Narratives from the crib.

Cambridge/MA : Harvard Univ. Pr.

Bruner, Jerome S. & Lucariello, Joan. 1989.

“Monologue as a narrative recreation of the world.”

In: Nelson (ed.) 1989, S. 73-97.

Nelson, Katherine. 1996.

Language in cognitive development : the emergence of the mediated mind.

Cambridge/MA : Cambridge University Press.

Raible, Wolfgang. 1998.

“Alterität und Identität”.

Zeitschrift für Literaturwissenschaft und Linguistik (LiLi) 28: 7-22.

Nelson 1996 : 194ff. Emily-Beispiele:

Consider the following excerpt, from an exchange between Emily and her father when Emily was almost 28 months, talking about what will happen on the weekend:

(2) F: Well after, then we're going to come back and have lunch and then you're going to have a nap, and then after your nap we're going to have a hot dog at the ocean, with the S's, and Mr. and Mrs. S., and, and their kids, and a bunch of other kids are going to have hot dogs at the ocean, and then we're going to come back . . .

E: And we can sit in the ocean!

F: Yeah, we can sit in the ocean, yeah, if it's a warm day, in the sand you can sit in it, we'll be, take your bathing suit . . . it's like your pool, only it's much bigger, and there's sand.

E: And I can splash!

F: And you can splash, you bet!

E: And I can . . . [kicking]

F: Yes you can. Well, we're going to have a lot of fun, but you know, you've got to be rested, so, in order for us to have all that fun

E: I want you to tell me about the [picnic]

F: Tell you about the what?

E: [picnic]

F: Picnic? Well, that's on Sunday . . .

F: . . . we're going to get up and have breakfast and mow the lawn, and go to an antique store and have a nap and go to the ocean and have some hot dogs.

Emily very frequently picked up on these accounts and elaborated them to herself after her parents left the room, for example:

(3) [we are going] …

at the ocean. .

ocean is a little far away,

baw, baw-buh-buh (x2) …

far away ...

I think it's couple blocks away …

maybe it's down downtown and across the ocean and down

the river

and maybe it's in

the hot dogs will be in a fridge

and the fridge will be in the [water] over by a shore

and then we could go in

and get a hot dog

and bring it out to the river

and then [Ss?] go in the river and [bite] me,

in the ocean,

we go to the ocean,

and ocean be over by I think a couple of blocks away,

but we could be,

and we could find any hot dogs,

um, the hot dogs gonna be for for the beach,

then the [bridge? fridge?]

we'll have to go in the green car

cause that's where the car seats are.

I can be in the red car

but see I be in the green car,

but you know who's going to be in the green car.

Both children,

I'm going to be in the green car in my car seat,

Stephen going to be in the green …

S. 196:

The relation between event knowledge, narrative discourse, and narrative thinking is seen in emergent form in Emily's crib monologues, as in the example just given (…). Consider next the following excerpt from a pre-sleep monologue at 32 months:

(4) Tomorrow when we wake up from bed, first me and Daddy and Mommy, you . . . eat breakfast eat breakfast, like we usually

do, and then we're going p-l-a-y, and then soon as Daddy

comes, Carl's going to come over, and then we're going to

play a little while. And then Carl and Emily are both going

down the car with somebody, and we're going to ride to

nursery school, and then we when we get there, we're all

going to get out of the car, go into nursery and then we will

say goodbye, then he's going to work, and we're going to play

at nursery school. Won't that be funny? Because sometimes I

go to nursery school cause its a nursery school day.

Sometimes I stay with Tanta all week. And sometimes we play

mom and dad. But usually, sometimes, I um, oh go to nursery

school.

The monologue then repeats the day's sequence, with variation.

S. 198:

The canonical event does not always unfold as expected, and as Bruner claims, it is the trouble - the breach in the canonical form - that impells the narrative to emerge to resolve the problem. Emily's monologues were indeed replete with problems and attempts at resolution. Consider the following - (5) is from the early period at 2 years, and (6) is from the later period at 2 1/2 years:

(5) maybe Carl turn, or maybe Emmy turn, or maybe Stephen turn, or maybe Lance turn or Danny turn. I don't, I don't know what boy bring book tomorrow. Maybe Lance. I don't know (whether), which boy bring book today. Maybe Danny or maybe Carl, maybe my, maybe Lance, maybe (too-wee). How about Lance bring book . . . Carl bring book . . . one . . . boy's (Jewish) . . . and bring (?) what if (for) doing. What if (for) Carl bring Dr. Seuss book for my. Maybe my get Dr. Seuss book from Carl, maybe . . . the bear . . . the book. Maybe . . . boy book it ... maybe . . . (24 mo.)

(6) Today Daddy went, trying to get into the race but the people said no so he, he has to watch it on television. I don't know why that is, maybe cause there's too many people. I think that's why, why he couldn't go in it. ... So he has to watch it on television ... on Halloween day, then he can run a race and I can watch him. I wish I could watch him. But they said no no no. Daddy Daddy Daddy! . . . No no, no no. Have to have to watch on television. But on Halloween Day he can run, run a race. Tomorrow (he'll) run (???) He says yes. Hoorary! My mom and dad and a man says "you can run in the footrace," and I said "that's nice of you. I want to." So next week I'm going to ... run to the footrace and, and run in the footrace cause they said I could. (32 mo.)

In (5) the trouble is in the unspecified slot-fillers - who brings the book and what book will be brought to the baby-sitter's. The canonical event is clear enough, and serves as background to the problem.

Beispiel für Effekte, die man mit gut geschriebenen Texten erreichen kann (hier: Arbeiten mit einem –scheinbaren– Paradox)

Börsenkurse können grausam sein [so in der Version am Sonntag 14.7.2002]

Lob der Torheit [so im Feuilleton am 15.7.2002]

Die Gesetze der Mathematik sind unerbittlich und grausam. Fällt der Kurs einer Aktie um fünfzig Prozent, dann muß der Kurs um hundert Prozent steigen, damit diese Aktie ihren früheren Marktwert zurückerlangt. Diese Aussicht entmutigt die Anleger vollkommen, deshalb sind die Gesetze der Mathematik auch die der Massenpsychologie, wenn das Publikum überzeugt ist, dass sich die Börse niemals wieder erholen kann. Als der Standard-&-Poors-500-Aktienindex 1973/74 um 48 Prozent fiel, brauchte er acht Jahre, um sein altes Niveau zurückzuerlangen. Das ist grausam.

Doch für jene Zyniker, die auch während der Krise weiter in Aktien investierten, bedeutete das eine jährliche Rendite von neun Prozent, die der S&P 500, bei dem Dividendenzahlungen

eingerechnet werden, abwarf. Allerdings muß man einschränkend sagen, daß die Anleger im selben Zeitraum mit sicheren dreißigjährigen amerikanischen Staatsanleihen Renditen von immerhin 7,75 Prozent in 1977 und sogar 13,45 Prozent in 1981 erzielen konnten.

Stark gebeutelte Firmen wie Intel oder Nokia, die einstigen Highflyer des Marktes, haben zur Zeit nichts Besseres zu tun, als in neue Fertigungstechnik zu investieren oder ihren Marktanteil auszubauen. Für die meisten Anleger scheint jedoch klar zu sein, daß künftig niemand mehr Mikroprozessoren oder mobile Kommunikationsgeräte brauchen wird, so

schlecht ist es um die Konjunktur, die Weltpolitik und die Wirtschaftsprüfung bestellt.

Die Börse erscheint nur noch wie die öffentliche Lotterie, die nur fünfzig Prozent der Einsätze an die Gewinner verteilt, den Rest jedoch an den Staat. Kluge Rechner verachten die Lotterie zu Recht als Abzockerei und Lotteriespieler als Dummköpfe. Der durchschnittliche Einsatz eines Lottospielers, regelmäßig in einen Aktienfonds investiert, ergibt nämlich über einen Zeitraum von dreißig Jahren jene Rendite, die sechs Richtigen im Lotto entspricht, wenn man nicht gerade den Jackpot knackt. Kein klar denkender Mensch ist also bereit, in der

Lotterie die Dummensteuer zu entrichten.

Die Börse erscheint jetzt als eine solche Lotterie. Also bleibt der Kluge ihr fern. Dabei wäre es historisch und statistisch betrachtet klüger, dumm zu sein. Denn jetzt können wir in der Börsenlotterie für wenig Geld viele Lose von Qualitätsunternehmen erwerben und uns realistische Gewinnchancen ausrechnen. Dummheit zur rechten Zeit ist Klugheit. Aber sogar Anleger, die schon früher nie eine Bilanz gelesen haben, geschweige denn neun hintereinander, um das langjährige durchschnittliche Wachstum von Gewinn, Cash-flow, Eigenkapital und anderen Indikatoren der langfristigen Ertragskraft eines Unternehmens zu errechnen und Kriterien für angemessene Bewertungen zu gewinnen, beschwören jetzt die große Vertrauenskrise. Die Informationen sind nicht verläßlich, also kann man nicht entscheiden. Wenn Vertrauen ein Mechanismus zur Reduktion sozialer Komplexität ist, wie der Soziologe Niklas Luhmann einmal genial definierte, dann übersteigt die Komplexität jetzt jedes erträgliche Maß. Da hilft eben nur noch jener andere Mechanismus zur Reduktion von Komplexität: die Dummheit.

chal

Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung,

15.07.2002, Nr. 161 / Seite 29