The "Meaningless" Hypertext

 

I thought this comic was not only amusing, but fit perfectly with something that James Sosnoski mentioned in Hyper-readers and Their Reading Engines: “Because readers characteristically navigate textual landscapes by searching them for key words and thus often omitting passages that do not “match,” hyper-reading will be labeled “subjective,” “superficial,” and “de-contextualized’” (164). Of course, Sosnoski didn’t take this particular stance in his paper; he was merely pointing out a common perception of hypertext. In fact, Sosnoski asserted, “[I]n my account, hyper-reading is a rewarding experience because it extends my ability to read” (165). I am intrigued though, by this concept of “meaning-depraved information overload.”

 

On one hand, I am tempted, like the boy in the cartoon, to discount all the “visual extras” available through technology, as if anything other than text is somehow less authoritative or meaninful.  On the other hand, I also remember that Eva-Maria Jakobs (author of The Evolution of Web-Site Genres) wrote, “What exactly does the term hypertext refer to?...The content of a mode can also be presented in a variety of ways (as text, graphics, animation, video, audio). The choice of content is dependent on the author’s intentions—hypertext nodes can, for example, consist solely of technical drawings” (357). I think one of the big issues many people have with hyper-text is the result of hyper-reading, which Sosnoski said is characterized by filtering, skimming, pecking, imposing, filming, traspassing, de-authorizing, and fragmenting (163). When I first read that list, I immediately associated it with phrases like “diminished meaning” and “compromised integrity.” Like Sosnoski admitted, I also feel guilty about skimming text in order to get the general idea; I hold the idea that in order to really know the material, one should read the entire text. I try to tell myself that I’m maintaining authorial “integrity” on research papers and critical essays if I am able to understand and properly cite—in context—the work of another writer. However, I have since realized that no matter how hard I try, my interpretation will, at some point or another, deviate from author intent. Sosnoski pointed out, “[R]eaders can raid the texts uncovered by their search results in order to assemble their details as ANOTHER text which is, so to speak, re-authored by the reader” (166). The meaning will inadvertedly change from writer to reader, and reader to writer, as both are involved in the composition/invention process.

In my earlier prejudice about the “meaninglessness” of hypertext, I forgot that it is indeed similar to the reading conventions I take for granted. For example, according to Jakobs:

This approach views hypertext as a principle of presentation that over time has emerged from the experimental stage and has led to a broad range of conventional pragmatic patterns, most of which have been the focus of linguistic research. On the other hand, these patterns represent a considerable proportion of everyday communicative strategies. We use them in dealing with the Internet: in looking for information, doing one’s banking, ordering books from Amazon, looking up items in Wikipedia, reading online newspapers, booking vacations or putting resources for students online. (356)

Sosnoski also compared a search engine to reading the index or table of contents of an encyclopedia to find a specific, desired topic. Despite my initial denial, I do employ certain selective reading skills whether I’m searching for a library book or browsing on the internet. My point is, I shouldn’t discount hypertext as being “meaningless” just because its appearance is different—especially since meaning in large part has to do with the reader, the one interpreting a work. “By framing texts, readers assimilate them to their interests and hence render them significant in the context of their concerns,” observed Sosnoski. His words are something I should do well to remember as I navigate through hypertext as a new outlet for writing.