Obliterate (pronounced uh-blit-uh-reyt (U) or oh-blit-uh-reyt (non-U))
(1) To remove or destroy all traces of something; do away
with; destroy completely.
(2) In printing or graphic design, to blot out or render
undecipherable (writing, marks, etc.); fully to efface.
(3) In medicine, to remove an organ or another body part
completely, as by surgery, disease, or radiation.
1590–1600: From the Latin oblitterātus, perfect passive participle of oblitterō (blot out), from oblinō (smear over) and past participle of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance), the construct being ob- (a prefixation of the preposition ob (in the sense of “towards; against”)) + litter(a) (also litera) (letter; script) + -ātus (-ate). The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate). Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel. It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate). Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee. True synonyms include black out, eliminate, exterminate, annihilate, eradicate, delete, erase & expunge because to obliterate something is to remove all traces. Other words often used as synonyms don’t of necessity exactly convey that sense; they include obscure, ravage, smash, wash out, wipe out, ax, cancel and cut. Obliterate & obliterated are verds & adjetives, obliteration & obliterator are nouns, obliterature & obliterating are nouns, verb & adjective, obliterable & obliterative are adjectives and obliteratingly is an adverb; the noun plural is obliterations.
The verb obliterate was abstracted from the phrase literas scribere (write across letters, strike out letters). The noun obliteration (act of obliterating or effacing, a blotting out or wearing out, fact of being obliterated, extinction) dates from the 1650s, from the Late Latin obliterationem (nominative obliteratio), the noun of action from the past-participle stem of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance). The related late fourteenth century noun oblivion (state or fact of forgetting, forgetfulness, loss of memory) was from the thirteenth century Old French oblivion and directly from the Latin oblivionem (nominative oblivio) (forgetfulness; a being forgotten) from oblivisci, the past participle of oblitus (forget) of uncertain origin. Oblivion is if interest to etymologists because of speculation about a semantic shift from “to be smooth” to “to forget”, the theory based on the construct being ob- (using ob in the sense of “over”) + the root of lēvis (smooth). For this there apparently exists no documentary evidence either to prove or disprove the notion. The Latin lēvis (rubbed smooth, ground down) was from the primitive Indo-European lehiu-, from the root (s)lei- (slime, slimy, sticky).
Obliterature
The noun
obliterature is a special derived form used in literary criticism, the
construct being oblit(erate) + (lit)erature.
It describes works of literature in some way "obliterated or mad
void", the most celebrated (or notorious according to many) being those
which "interpreted" things in a manner not intended by the original
author but the words is applied also to texts deliberately destroyed, erased or
rendered unreadable, either as an artistic statement or as a result of
censorship, neglect, or decay. La biblioteca de Babel" (The
Library of Babel (1941)) by Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986) was a short story
which imagined a universe consisting of an infinite library containing every
possible book but all volumes are some way corrupted or comprise only random
strings of characters; all works wholly unintelligible and thus useless. The chaotic library was symbolic of the most
extreme example of obliterature in that all works had been rendered unreadable
and devoid of internal meaning.
Probably for a long as writing has existed, there has been censorship (and its companion: self-censorship). Some censorship is official government policy while countless other instances exist at institutional level, sometimes as a political imperative, some time because of base commercial motives. The most infamous examples are literary works banned or destroyed as political or religious repression including occasions when the process was one of public spectacle such as the burning of books in Nazi Germany, aimed at Jewish, communist and other “degenerate or undesirable” authors. The critique: “They burn the books they cannot write” is often attributed German-Jewish poet, writer and literary critic Heinrich Heine (1797–1856) whose work was among the thousands of volumes placed on a bonfire in Berlin in 1933 but it’s a paraphrase of a passage from his play Almansor (1821-1822), spoken by a Muslim after Christian had burned piles of the holy Quran: “Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.” (That was but a prelude; where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as well.")
The Address Book (1983) by French conceptual artist Sophie Calle (b 1953) was based on an address book the author found in the street which, (after photocopying the contents) she returned to the owner. She then contacted those in the book and used the information they provided to create a narrative about the owner, a man she had never met. This she had published in a newspaper and the man promptly threatened to sue on the grounds of a breach of his right to privacy, demanding all examples of the work in its published form be destroyed. Duly, the obliterature was performed. Thomas Phillips' (1937–2022) A Humument: A treated Victorian novel (in various editions 1970-2016) is regarded by most critics as an “altered” book, a class of literature in which novel media forms (often graphical artwork) are interpolated to change the appearance and sometimes elements of meaning. Phillips use as his base a Victorian-era novel (William (WH) Mallock's (1849–1923) A Human Document (1892)) and painted over its pages, leaving only select words visible to create new narratives, many of which were surreal. This was obliterature as artistic device and it’s of historic interest because it anticipated many of the techniques of post modernism, multi-media productions and even meme-making.
Erasure Poetry takes an existing text and either erases or blacks-out (the modern redaction technique) words or passages to create a new poem from the remaining words; in the most extreme examples almost all the original is obliterated, with only fragments left to form a new work. Ronald Johnson (1935–1998) was a US poet who in 1977 published the book-length RADI OS (1977), based on John Milton's (1608–1674) Paradise Lost (1667-1674) and used the redactive mechanism as an artistic device, space once used by the obliterated left deliberately blank, surrounding the surviving words.
Some critics and literary theorists include unfinished and fragmentary work under the rubric of obliterature and while that may seem a bit of a definitional stretch, the point may be that such texts in many ways can resemble what post modern (and post-post modern) obliterature practitioners publish as completed work. There are many unfinished works by the famous which have been “brought to conclusion” by contracted authors, the critical response tending to vary from the polite to the dismissive although, in fairness, it may be that some things were left unfinished for good reasons. The Portuguese author Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935) was extraordinarily prolific and apparently never discarded a single page, leaving a vast archive of unfinished, fragmented, and often unreadable manuscripts, the volume so vast many have never been deciphered. It’s interesting to speculate that had Pessoa had access to word processors and the cloud whether he would have saved as much; if he’d lived in the age of the floppy diskette, maybe he’d have culled a bit.
The obliteration of animal carcasses with explosives