Saturday, March 7, 2009

Clifford Geertz and "Deep Play"

This is essay is oft-cited in the works of both sociologists and anthropologists. Geertz uses Jeremy Benthams concept of "deep play," or high stakes games, to examine why someone might engage in betting game where they are in over their heads. By the end of the essay, the Balinese cockfight comes across as a sociological reflection of status, kinship, inter-personal conflict, and affirmations, denials, and explorations of masculinity, animality, and the seedy underbelly of human existance. The "deeper" the play, the more engaged the Balinese are with the conflict, and the higher the stakes, the more meaning is attached to the fight. A "shallow" game arouses little interest and is explemplified by two out of towners pitting their cocks against eachother. The audience cares little about the outcome. When family is involved, the Balinese are much more engaged. Betting together on a cock seems to reaffirm ties, to resolve petty conflicts that have emerged outside, and to wage a symbolic war on another clan. The greatest fights are high-bet, well matched fights, and the winners get to revel in their symbolic triumph. Geertz stresses that there are not "real world" consequences to these fights. A poor cockfighter from far away can't come to the city and rise himself to wealth and riches by cockfight victories. The fight is a story the Balinese "tell themselves about themselves" and reflects more the emotions and desires of people and day-to-day realities of class.

I like this style of "thick description" that Geertz engages in. When I am reading anthropological texts, these are the kinds of works I favor. Bruce Kapferer's "Celebration of Demons" read along similar lines, but without the theoretical insight. The context of the fight and accompanying explanation of symbols and society make the text seem solid. Today, I can imagine that such texts are frowned upon within anthropology for the assumptions they make when connecting people and their actions so clearly to stated cultural "realities." Is the cock truly an extension of the man? This would seem a slam dunk, as the accompanying language (cock jokes) and fights (bloodthirsty spasms of violence) seem tenable evidence of the masculine. Is this too easy of an assumption, playing into categories defined by Western culture? Perhaps the whole recognizableness and understandability of the cockfight is simple misinterpretation of a culture specific event. I'm not so convinced.

In American society, is the sportscar no more than the Balinese cock? Or the boxing match no more than a cockfight? At a boxing match we see two men duking it out until one of them figuratively dies - a total knockout. People may win money this way, and some could gain fortunes, though many more are labelled "compulsive gamblers" (like the social outcasts in Geertz's analysis). These sports, in their advertising, their cast make-up, and their allusions, are all very masculine. One only has to look at American pro-sports to see how male-dominated these sorts of sports are.

Looking back at the social symbolism and kin level cohesiveness that stem from the Balinese cockfight, I couldn't help but think of a Milwaukee Brewers baseball game. A Brewers game can be read in many different ways - through a child enjoying a sport with his family, through inattentive executives economically bonding over the distant game below, or, as it seems in Milwaukee, through drunken devotion to the home team. The latter resembles kinship bonding, it builds a sense of community. The enemy is the opposing team, and nearby rivals pose the most exciting foes. For Milwaukee, Chicago and Minnesota games are the most exciting, a sort of regional rivalry plays itself out. In standings, the divisions are regional, and being above the Cubs is a palpable goal. Outsider teams get less attention, and one can imagine that an Astros-Cubs game at Miller Park will draw little local enthusiasm. Well-matched games against rivals (the other local clan?) are the most exciting, and the ones that seem to foster the most local identity. What really defines blue-collar Brewers fans from Cubs fans? Probably not a whole lot, but these games serve as occasions to drum up some sort of hatred - conveyed through insults and possible fan altercations. Blood really starts to flow. The players on the teams are interchangeable. Though heroes may come and go, the teams persist through the decades, and though they get better or worse depending on the players and management, these facts are washed over with the power of the time-honored institution of Major League Baseball.

So how is this baseball game a story we tell ourselves about ourselves. First, it is that we are different from our Other, our rival. Insults based on stereotypical Chicagoans will surface, and laudable traits of Milwaukeeans will be created and reinforced during the game. Colors and symbols easily mark who is with you and who is not. Does the game say anything about social structure? In Geertz's ethnography, children, women, the disabled, and the outcast all engage in minor games at the periphery of the cockfight, engaging indirectly with the main festival of proud violence and social justification. At a baseball game we see elements of societal structure within the setup of the ballpark itself. The bleachers and nose-bleeders are the cheapest sections, followed by the upper deck, the lower deck, and finally, the skyboxes. For a geographer, this is interesting to ruminate on. The closer to the field the better, unless you have the chance of getting hit with a ball or you can't see anything. The further away you are the worse the seats, unless you are in a skybox. But those in skyboxes are hardly engaged in the play by play experience of the game anyway. For all, the game is probably a bonding experience of some sort. But those that would enjoy the game the most for its community-reinforcement and "deep play" are in the cheaper seats. Money is seldom at stake, but pride is, and like in Geertz's cockfights, when the game is said and done, nothing will actually change in social-economic structure of two major cities. Milwaukee won't be as important and respected as Chicago if they sweep the Cubs, but to some of the crowd, a symbolic victory will have been won, and pride will run deeper.