Abstract

The first time I bought something at the Japanese clothing retailer Uniqlo, I casually handed the cashier my credit card, barely grasped in one hand, while I riffled through my bag with the other. He received it reverently with both hands and a slight bow of the head. It was handed back to me in the same manner, held between the fingers and thumbs of both hands like an important document and presented in one fluid movement with a graceful downward slope. I had paid extra to have my item gift wrapped—a scarf for my sister-in-law for Christmas—and that too was a ritual of careful ornamentation. The result was a delightful origami of polyester cloth instead of paper, wrapped and tied around the scarf without the use of tape or visible seams, creating a package that was more attractive than the simple black scarf it held.I was reminded of my Uniqlo purchase when Han discussed “the intense formalism and aestheticism that... dominates everyday ritual practices in Japan.” Japanese parcels are his favorite example of this overabundance of the signifier—a case where the envelope outshines the item inside. The signifier so overwhelms the signified that it displaces the very longing for meaning. For Han, “the liturgy of emptiness dispels the capitalist economy of the commodity.” Han must not have shopped at Uniqlo.“Ritual” is a notoriously difficult concept to pin down, and our longing to define it is often tied up with our sense of its loss or absence. In Han's elliptical chapters, “ritual” shifts referents, entangled variously with other ideas that are meant to define it or sit near it: play, rites of passage, aestheticism, and formalism. Ritual is most definitely not work, productivity, or commodity. If ritual is best known as the absence of work, production, and commodities, it becomes hard to see the work that rituals themselves can do, or their own productive power. Indeed, there are almost no rituals named or encountered in the book except through historical distance and nostalgia.It is not Han's experience of Japanese parcels that is offered as a counter to the commodity logic of our age, but Roland Barthes's. Ritual is already assumed to be lost, shrouded in the mists of ages past or civilizations frozen in time, accessible primarily through white European nostalgia, mediated by Han's own pronouncements of judgment on our deritualized present. But nostalgia for ritual and a longing to capture its affects was one of the first levers for the global economy propelled by early modern European colonialism. Our assumption that ritual is already always lost obscures the way our very longing for it works upon us. Surely the executives of Uniqlo knew all of this, implicitly, when they trained their American workforce in the careful rules of ornamentation and empty signifiers and convinced me to cough over a few extra dollars to purchase the “magnificent envelope.”