I was first confused at Grosz’s insistence on holding up architectureas the “most primordial and animal of all of the arts.” It seemed tome that a lot of what was being done was just a sort of metaphoricalmapping of the concepts of one particular form of art onto all art ingeneral, which could have been done with any other art form. However,she later clarifies that “… what is described above may be regardedas a kind of genealogy of the plane of composition and the art-eventsthat erupt on its surface, it is not the only genealogy, nor the only(historical, cultural) reconstruction of the origins of art,” whichpleased me sufficiently as an explanation. Perhaps Grosz’s most important point, to my mind, regarding definingthe frame, i.e., “The frame separates. It cuts into a milieu orspace. This cutting links it to the constitution of the plane ofcomposition, to the provisional ordering of chaos… to arrest or slowthem into a space and a time, a structure and a form where they canaffect and be affected by bodies.” What I didn’t understand is how aconcept as ubiquitous as frames could be made to seem so esoteric (itmight have been all the architecture references that created thisimpression in me, or Grosz’s redundant rhetorical style which namesthings, gives them labels, and appellatizes objects in the world). Ifeel like there has to be an easier way to explain the concept thanterritory-wall-painting-window-mirror-screen-becoming, which is stillan unclear term to me. I get the feeling that maybe it was just somesort of example being used in service of a larger point I might havemissed, though, and don’t want to get too hung up on it. One particular omission struck me as interesting and somehowdeliberate. On pages 20-22, Grosz discusses painting and music, thenlumps literature in with the implications of the discussion of thoseforms without actually discussing literature. Does Grosz feel safewith this omission because literature is, like painting and music,visual and aural? Should we?