政治學者覺得《權力的遊戲》寫實,多半因為他們歷史不過關_風聞
观方翻译-观方翻译官方账号-2019-05-27 18:57
《外交政策》網站5月23日刊登美國麻省大學阿默斯特分校政治學助理教授保羅·馬斯格雷夫文章《國際關係理論和「權力的遊戲」都是魔幻作品》
文:Paul Musgrave
譯:李翠萍
美劇《權力的遊戲》系列自開播以來,便引起了世界各國政治和外交學者的極大興趣。
他們熱切地發揮才華,反覆套用學術理論來分析各個角色贏得王位的機會,並進行排名。甚至有學者在學術期刊上發表論文,專門講如何通過模擬劇情來教授國際關係理論。美國智庫蘭德公司專家曾把將該劇中的龍比作核武器。《外交事務》不久前刊登的一篇文章寫道,儘管該劇呈現了一些暴力元素,但它並不是一部現實主義文本,而是“要批判對國家安全短視的關注,以至於忽略了個人和集體利益。”該文章的作者試圖以丹妮莉絲·坦格利安對平民的關心來支撐其論點,但(由於她最後發狂屠城)這似乎不太成立。
這其中有一個很重要的原因。很難想象還有什麼奇幻世界會比《權力的遊戲》裏的維斯特洛大陸更能吸引國際關係學者。畢竟,從許多方面來看,國際關係理論和維斯特洛大陸屬於近親關係,它們來自同一個源頭——****(沒學好的)歐洲歷史。
或許正由於這個原因,才會有那麼多學者和愛涉足學術的媒體人如此嚴肅認真地對待這部劇。許多國際關係學者竟然認為這部劇是寫實的,多麼諷刺!專門研究中世紀的學者們雖然樂於見到大量劇迷突然開始對他們的作品和課程感興趣,但他們也擔心該劇會扭曲人們對中世紀世界的看法。
早在劇情裏出現龍和異鬼之前,專門研究中世紀曆史的學者就指出,這部劇呈現出的中世紀生活完全不符合現實。簡單説來就是,真正的中世紀生活節奏更慢,宗教色彩更濃,種族更多元化,統治者可能比劇中更關心税收問題。事實上,一位學者指出,與其説《權力的遊戲》講述的是中世紀時期的故事,不如説它是部以歐洲早期現代史(比如三十年戰爭時期或殖民美洲時期)為背景的演義。
這就從側面解釋了為什麼國際關係學者會認為這部劇如此具有吸引力。不是我故意給同行拆台,但整體上來説,我們政治學者的歷史研究不太過關,正如歷史學者不太擅長提煉理論一樣。當政治學者研究某個案例時,通常更關心根本的理論趨勢是如何通過事件發展反映出來的,而不是逐條釐清所有事實。
這就是為什麼除了深入鑽研某段歷史的少數人以外,大多數國關學者都是浮在三萬英尺高空鳥瞰歷史的。這便是為什麼國際關係教學和研究會如此重視1648年(譯註:學者普遍認為威斯特伐利亞和約開創的國際體系是現代國際關係體系雛形)和1919年(譯註:巴黎和會重新安排世界格局,建立國聯,也為更大的衝突埋下種子)這樣轉折點,以至於給它們披上神話色彩:因為與全面領會歷史變化的複雜性相比,固定用某一年來標記重大變化要容易的多。
《宣讀明斯特合約的批准誓詞》,傑拉德·泰爾博赫【荷】
正因為歷史知識有所欠缺,所以國際關係學者才會覺得《權力的遊戲》比較寫實。當觀眾接觸虛構作品時,敍事必須成功地將觀眾對現實世界的感受轉移到一個連貫的故事世界中去,並在那裏逐步展開。所以觀眾可以期待在《權力的遊戲》中看到龍,但卻看不到星際飛船。如果違反了這種故事規則,比如在維斯特洛大陸出現了星巴克咖啡,就會讓觀眾因為覺得違和而脱離必要的懸疑感。
然而,造成敍事轉移的不是敍事本身的準確性,而是它在特定受眾眼裏的合理性。比如一名律師在看律政劇的時候,除非是像《我的堂兄維尼》那樣以準確著稱的劇,否則他們將對種種謬誤感到震驚,但絕大多數人仍然會覺得劇情很寫實。觀眾們天然傾向於呈現在他們眼前的情節,如果缺乏背景知識來驗證故事裏的各種説法,他們會把能合乎情理的情節當作真相。
《我的堂兄維尼》劇照
這裏就必須提到維斯特洛大陸了。喬治·R·R·馬丁曾説,他在寫作《冰與火之歌》時採用了“混搭”的方法,吸收借鑑了英國和歐洲的歷史。這同樣也是美國國關理論界的做法,至少從1948年以來——那一年政治學家漢斯·摩根索在《國家間政治》中將國際政治定義為“權力鬥爭”——他們劫掠歐洲歷史中的只鱗片羽用以構築合乎情理的説法,來闡述政治進程,哪怕所選材料的性質截然相異。
書中的狼獅大戰參考了英國的玫瑰戰爭
馬丁洗劫了不同的歷史典籍,然後創作了一系列關於權力的故事。幾十年來,國關理論家的所作所為與馬丁相差無幾,他們號稱在構建一種關於權力的科學,但實際上產物往往更像是故事而不是科學。
美國國際關係學者辛西婭•韋伯在《國際關係理論》一書中寫道:“國際關係理論是一部關於國際政治的故事集,它展現出的真實性有賴於國際關係的種種神話。”由於馬丁和摩根索在創作中都回顧了一種想象出來的歐洲歷史,因此他們都把主權和國家間的戰爭視為自然概念,並在故事中給予其突出地位。
這種做法自然而然地為馬丁的魔幻小説和國關學者們的“科幻”理論引入一種歐洲中心主義偏見。幾十年來,課堂裏教的都是各個國家如何為了生存而維持權力均勢,以抗衡可能毀滅它們的對手。直到2007年,學者們才開始系統地研究非歐洲環境下的均勢案例,並發現這些國家沒有追求均勢的傾向性。其實今天看來,歐洲歷史裏比較近乎無政府狀態的時期更像是世界歷史中的例外,而不是常態。
當國際關係理論學者邂逅《權力的遊戲》時,他們興奮地發現整個文本都糾纏於權力、暴力、權威以及個人與結構孰輕孰重等問題。他們在該劇中看到了自己研究領域的鏡像,但這個鏡像的實體本身其實也是一部虛幻作品,可它衍生出來的著作卻奠定了國際關係理論的基礎。在中世紀史學家們看來,該劇充滿不準確的描述,但在國際關係理論學者那裏,這些謬誤卻是學科內部代代相傳、人人奉為圭臬的古老真理。
歐洲強權維持的均勢
這也解釋了一個更深層次的問題:為什麼國際關係學者非常不願意反駁劇中的不準確之處呢?許多中世紀史學家在討論《權力的遊戲》時,既解釋劇中哪些情節符合歷史,也指出哪些純屬謬誤,就好比科普作者既要討論流行文化中符合科學的東西,也要指出其中的誤讀。但相對而言,很少有國關學者願意深入細節來討論該劇有失準確的地方。
他們保持緘默的原因很多。部分原因在於,該劇許多場景可以幫助本科生直觀理解“安全困境”等抽象概念,因此授課的學者自然不會過於苛求這個免費的禮物。另外一部分原因是,許多學者對大眾文化產物發表評論佔用的是他們的私人時間,所以他們不僅是作為學者來寫這些文章,也是作為書迷,因此不太願意深究自己喜愛的作品有什麼瑕疵。
然而,有個原因可能比以上兩條更重要。那就是人類對世界政治和流行文化的研究仍處於起步階段。現在正在進行着一場悄無聲息的革命,學者們開始從寬泛的理論構想(比方用《星際迷航:原初系列》來解釋上世紀60年代的美國外交政策)轉向更為嚴謹的研究。有實驗證明,對科幻作品中描寫的殺手機器人瞭解程度越高,就越抗拒現實世界中的自主武器;閲讀反烏托邦小説會為激進、暴力的政治行動提供更多現成的辯護理由。我們有充分的理論和實證理由相信,即便政策制定者也會被虛構的外交政策描述所影響,比如美國前總統羅納德•里根就高度接受湯姆•克蘭西(譯註:美國軍事作家,代表作包括《獵殺紅色十月號》、《赤色風暴》、《迫切的危機》等)的小説。
《獵殺紅色十月號》
學者們應該如何認真對待流行文化?這些研究指向一條新路:不要試圖逐條指出《權力的遊戲》反映了哪些真實的歷史,甚至無需羅列它的謬誤,而是要探尋它被觀眾接受的背後反映出觀眾對政治有怎樣的理解,以及這部劇是否改變了他們對權力運作的看法。類似的方法也可以幫助學者們理解,一部流行文化作品——比如中國的愛國電影《戰狼2》——究竟是純屬娛樂,還是切實幹預改變了中國觀眾看待世界的方式。
探索這些問題有助於解釋人們如何理解複雜事物,比如國際關係。研究這樣的問題也有助於國關學者摘掉“叉腰大師”的帽子,真正着手去創造現實世界所需要的深刻知識。
IR Theory and‘Game of Thrones’ Are Both Fantasies
Since the start of the series, Game of Thrones has been catnip for scholars of world politics and foreignpolicy.
They eagerly applied their talents and theories to ranking each character’s chances of winning the throne—repeatedly. There are scholarly journal articles about how to use a simulation based on the show to teach international relations theory. Rand Corp. has compared the show’s dragons to nuclear weapons. A Foreign Affairs article argued that, despite its use of violence, the show was no realist text but “a critique of the myopic focus on national security over the needs of individuals and the collective good.” (The author cited as evidence Daenerys Targaryen’s concern for civilians, a point that didn’t fare so well.)
There’s a good reason for this. It would be hard to imagine a fantasy world better concocted to appeal to international relations scholars than that of Westeros, the setting of Game of Thrones. After all, in many ways, international relations theory and Westeros are cousins since they descend from the same source material: bad European history
That, perhaps, explains how seriously and earnestly many scholars, and journalists on the academic beat, have approached the show. It’s ironic that many international relations scholars see the show as realistic. Although medievalists welcome the surge of interest the show has produced in their work (and courses), they also worry about the distorting effects the show has had on how people perceive the medieval world.
Medieval historians argue that its depiction of medieval life is anything but realistic (and that’s before the dragons or ice zombies). Bluntly, life was slower, more religious, more racially diverse, and probably more concerned with taxation than the show was. Indeed, one scholar points out that, if anything, Game of Thrones is more a romance of the early modern European age (think the Thirty Years’ War or the conquest of the Americas) than of the medieval period.
This offers a hint about why international relations scholars find the show so compelling. If I can speak against my tribe, on the whole we are pretty bad at doing history for the same reasons that we are better at doing theory than are historians. When a political scientist approaches a case, he or she is usually more interested in seeing how the unfolding of events reflected some underlying theoretical trend than in getting the facts right.
That’s why most international relations scholars engage with history at the 30,000-foot level, except for those few who have developed a particular specialization. That’s one reason why mythical turning points like 1648 and 1919 loom so large in international relations teaching and scholarship: It’s easier to pin major changes on a single calendar year than to appreciate the complexity of historical change.
That gap in historical knowledge helps explain why Game of Thrones seems more realistic to international relations scholars. When audiences engage with fiction, the narrative must succeed in transporting the audience from their real-world sensations into a consistent story world within which the narrative unfolds. Audiences can expect dragons in Game of Thrones but not starships. Violating those story rules (like having a Starbucks cup in Westeros) kicks audiences out of their necessary suspension of disbelief.
What generates narrative transportation, however, isn’t the accuracy of a narrative but its plausibility to the specific audience. A lawyer watching a courtroom drama—unless it’s the famously, if incongruously, accurate My Cousin Vinny—will be jarred into disbelief by errors that most people will accept. Audiences are predisposed to believe what they’re told, and if they lack the background knowledge to verify claims within the story, they will accept plausible presentations as true.
And here’s where Westeros comes in. George R.R. Martin has said he used a “mix-and-match” approach to drawing on British and European history to motivate A Song of Ice and Fire. Since at least the publication of Hans Morgenthau’s Politics Among Nations in 1948—which defined international politics as a “struggle for power”—U.S. international relations theory has done the same, plundering disparate parts of European history to construct plausible arguments about the underlying processes of politics.
Martin ransacked history books to build a series of novels about power. For decades, theorists did much the same under the trappings of constructing a science of power that often turned out to look more like stories than science.
As Cynthia Weber writes, “IR theory — a collection of stories about international politics — relies on IR myths in order to appear to be true.” And since both Martin and Morgenthau were looking backward to an imagined European past, they took as natural concepts such as sovereignty and interstate war that loom large in those stories.
That move naturally introduced a Eurocentric bias to both the fiction and the “science” fiction about the past. For decades, classrooms were filled with lectures about how the incentives of states seeking survival inclined them to maintain a balance of power against rivals that could extinguish them; it wasn’t until 2007 that scholars began systematically looking at cases of balancing in non-European contexts and found that there was no such propensity toward balancing. These days, if anything, the more anarchical parts of European history look like an exception rather than the rule.
When international relations theorists encountered Game of Thrones, then, they were excited to discover a text that grappled with questions of power, violence, authority, and the importance of individuals versus structure. Yet they were simply discovering a mirror image of the fantasia that foundational works in international relations theory had been drawn from. Where medievalists saw only inaccuracies, international relations theorists saw the same sorts of errors they were reared on and welcomed them as old truths.
That also explains the even deeper puzzle of why international relations scholars were so unwilling to rebut inaccuracies in the show. It’s telling that medievalists sought to explain how Game of Thrones got it wrong as often as the show got things right, much as science communicators seek to explain not only what popular culture gets right about science but also what it wrongly shows as true. But comparatively few international relations scholars wanted to go into detail about how the show was inaccurate.
There are many reasons for that reticence. Partly, it’s because having a popular show that really can be used to illustrate important concepts on a scene-by-scene basis is like a gift horse for scholars who teach undergraduates who don’t always immediately grasp concepts like the security dilemma. Partly, it’s because many scholars who engage with popular culture do so on their own time, so they write not just as scholars but as “scholar-fans” who aren’t inclined to probe too deeply into their beloved’s flaws. (If international relations scholars wrote about popular culture just on the basis of how large an audience a show attracts, there’d be way more think pieces and hot takes about the NCIS universe and how it shapes mass perceptions of international relations.)
Possibly even larger than those reasons, though, is that the study of world politics and popular culture is still in its infancy. There’s a quiet revolution going on now, as scholars turn from broadly theorizing about how (for instance) the original Star Trekexplained 1960s U.S. foreign policy toward more rigorous studies. There are experiments showing that greater knowledge of science-fictional presentations of killer robots leads to greater resistance to real-world autonomous weapons and that reading dystopian fiction produces more ready justification for radical, violent political action. And there are good theoretical and empirical reasons to believe that even policymakers can be affected by fictional portrayals of foreign policy, as with U.S. President Ronald Reagan’s receptivity to Tom Clancy’s novels.
These studies point to one way that scholars can continue to take popular culture seriously: seeking not to catalogue instances in which Game of Thrones reflects the world (or even listing its mistakes) but rather how its reception shows that audiences understand politics—and even how the show might have changed their perceptions of how power works. Similar approaches could also help scholars understand whether a piece of popular culture like the patriotic Chinese film Wolf Warrior 2 is just a piece of entertainment or a meaningful intervention in changing how Chinese audiences see the world.
Exploring those questions holds a lot of promise for explaining how people make sense out of something as complex as international relations. Investigating them would also help international relations scholars stop playing at being critics and instead start producing the sort of deep knowledge that the real world needs.
(End)