Conditions (Alain Badiou (Author), Steven Corcoran (Translato
Conditions (Alain Badiou (Author), Steven Corcoran (Translato
Conditions (Alain Badiou (Author), Steven Corcoran (Translato
CONDITIONS
20
Because if philosophy renounces its operation and its void, all there is
left to establish the category of Truth is dogmatic terror. To counter this,
sophists will always have an easy time of exposing the deal philosophical
desire makes with tyranny.
This is the problem we face today in a nutshell. The idea of the End of
philosophy is at the same time the idea of the end of the category of
Truth. Its stakes, without any doubt, concern a balance-sheet of the cen-
turys disasters. Dogmatic terror took the form of the State. Philoso-
phemes of dogmatism were taken so far as to be incorporated in police-
work and extermination camps. Places were gloried, and psalms sung
to sacred names. This disaster compromised philosophy. The provisional
ruining of Marxisms credit and the Heidegger affair were only avatars
of this compromise. We see therein the price philosophy pays when it
renounces its void and its eternity. When it renounces its operation. The
price it pays to want to realize itself within time.
However, to claim that philosophy as at an end and the Truth is obso-
lete is an inherently sophistic assessment of the century. We are bearing
witness to a second anti-Platonic requital, for contemporary philosophy
is a sort of generalized sophistry, which incidentally is lacking neither in
talent nor in grandeur. Language games, deconstruction, weak thought,
radical heterogeneity, diffrend and differences, the ruin of Reason, pro-
motion of the fragment, discourse reduced to shreds: all this argues in
favour of a sophistic line of thinking, and puts philosophy in a
deadlock.
Let us simply say: after the sophistic or postmodern assessment of the
disasters of the century the time of the anti-sophistic balance-sheet
begins. And since these disasters are borne of philosophys paroxystic
desire to inscribe itself in History; since the catastrophes of Truth come
from the fact that, obsessed by its past and its becoming, philosophy
renounced the void and eternity, so, then, it is entirely legitimate to draw
up a new philosophical balance-sheet against the authority of history,
against historicism.
The central point consists in redeploying the category of Truth in its
operation, in its capacity for seizing. This redeployment has to factor in
and overrule the objection of the great modern sophist. Yes, the recon-
struction of Truths pincers must give a place to the laws of language,
chance, the indiscernible, the event and singularity. Philosophys central
category must explicitly be kept empty. But it must also maintain that
THE (RE)TURN OF PHILOSOPHY ITSELF
21
this void is a condition for a real operation. Philosophy must not give up
either on logical linking, as instructed by a contemporary mathematics,
or on sublimations and limits, as instructed by a contemporary poetics.
The intensity of its love will receive clarication from the quibbles of
psychoanalysis. Its persuasive strategy will receive clarication from the
debate on politics and democracy.
This is the fth variation of my thesis. It can be quite simply stated as
given in thesis 5.
THESIS 5. PHILOSOPHY IS POSSIBLE
From this follows a variant on this variant, lets call it thesis 5a.
Thesis 5a. Philosophy is necessary
At issue here is not the history of philosophy. At issue here is not ideol-
ogy. Nor is it question of aesthetics, of epistemology or of political sociol-
ogy. It is not a question of examining the rules of language. It is a question
of philosophy itself in its singular delimitation, in conformity with the
denition I have put forward of it. It is a question of philosophy such as
it was inaugurated by Plato.
We can, and we should, write new Republics and Symposiums for our
contemporaries. Just as Plato wrote the Gorgias and Protagoras for the
great sophists, we should write the Nietzsche
6
and the Wittgenstein. And,
for the minor sophists, the Vattimo and the Rorty. Neither more nor less
polemical, neither more nor less respectful.
Philosophy is possible; philosophy is necessary. And nevertheless, in
order for it to be, it must be desired. Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe says that
History he has in mind Nazi barbarity now forbids any desire for phi-
losophy.
7
I cannot grant him this, since such a conviction immediately
places philosophy in a position of weakness with regard to modern soph-
istry. There is another possible solution and that is to desire philosophy
against history, to break with historicism. This would enable philosophy
to re-emerge as what it is: the clearing (claircie) of a Godless and soulless
eternity, due solely to its effort that grants us that there are truths. This
is the orientation that I do not hesitate an instant to consider a duty for
CONDITIONS
22
thought. And if I compare, as Mallarm did, the eternal void of the
philosophical Truth to a bed of ideal, and therefore inexistent, owers, to
Irises whose genus the family of irises only exists in the philoso-
phers operation, I shall say with him, combining exaltation and
prescription just as Truth superimposes a ction of art on a ction of
knowledge:
Ideas, glory of long desire,
all within me rejoiced to see
the irid family aspire
to this new responsibility,
(Stphane Mallarm, Prose (for des Esseintes) in Stphane Mallarm:
Collected Poems and Other Verse, trans. by E.H. and A.M. Blackmore,
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. p. 53)
Any such burgeoning, any such re-turn of afrmative thinking are
likewise wagers. Mallarm, again: Every thought emits a throw of the
dice. Let us throw the dice of philosophy. When the dice fall, there will
still be time to discuss, with modern sophists, what Mallarm called
the total count in the making.
23
CHAPTER TWO
Defnition of Philosophy
Philosophy is prescribed by conditions that constitute types of truth-
or generic-procedure. These types are science (more precisely, the
matheme), art (more precisely, the poem), politics (more precisely, poli-
tics in interiority, or a politics of emancipation) and love (more precisely,
the procedure that makes truth of the disjunction of sexuated positions).
Philosophy is the place of thought where the there is (il y a) of these
truths, and their compossibility, is stated. To achieve this, philosophy
constructs an operational category, the Truth, which opens up an active
void in thought. This void is located in conformity with the inversion of
succession (its style of argumentative exposition) and the beyond of a
limit (its style of persuasive or subjectivating exposition). Philosophy, as
discourse, is thus an activity that constructs a ction of knowledge and
a ction of art in superposition to one another.
Philosophy seizes truths in the void that is opened in the gap or interval
of the two ctionings. This seizing is its act. It is this act by which philoso-
phy declares that there are truths, and by which thought itself is seized
by this there are. This seizing by means of an act attests to the unity of
thought.
As a ction of knowledge, philosophy imitates the matheme. As a
ction of art, it imitates the poem. As the intensity of an act, it is like a
love without object. Addressed to all so that all may be in seizing the
existence of truths, it is like a political strategy with no stakes in power.
Through this fourfold discursive imitation, philosophy knots into itself
the system of its conditions. This is the reason that a philosophy is homo-
geneous to the stylistics of its epoch. This continual contemporaneousness
CONDITIONS
24
is, however, oriented not towards empirical time, but towards what Plato
called the always of time, towards the intemporal essence of time,
which philosophy names eternity. The philosophical seizing of truths
exposes them to eternity; with Nietzsche, we might say that it exposes
them to the eternity of their return. This eternal exposition is all the more
real insofar as truths are seized in extreme urgency, in the extreme
precariousness of their temporal trajectory.
The act of seizing, such as an eternity orients it, picks truths out from
the dross of sense, separating them from the law of the world. Philosophy
is subtractive in that it makes holes in sense, or causes an interruption in
the circulation of sense, so that it may come that truths are said all
together. Philosophy is a sense-less or mad (insens) act, and by the same
token rational.
Philosophy is never an interpretation of experience. It involves the act
of Truth with regard to truths. And this act, deemed unproductive by the
law of the world (it produces not a single truth), disposes an objectless
subject, a subject open only to the truths that transit in its seizing and by
which it is seized.
I propose to call religion everything that presupposes that there is a
continuity between truths and the circulation of meaning. We can thus
say: philosophy is what, against every hermeneutics, against the reli-
gious law of meaning, assembles compossible truths on the basis of the
void. Philosophy then subtracts thought from every presupposition of
Presence.
The subtractive operations by which philosophy grasps truths outside
of sense fall under four modalities
1
: the undecidable, which relates to
the event (a truth is not, it comes forth [advient]; the indiscernible, which
relates to freedom (the trajectory of a truth is not constrained but
hazardous); the generic, which relates to being (the being of a truth is
made of an innite set that is subtracted from knowledge predicates);
and the unnameable, which relates to the Good (forcing the naming of
an unnameable engenders disaster).
The schema connecting these four gures of the subtractive (the unde-
cidable, the indiscernible, the generic and the unnameable) provides the
outline for a philosophical doctrine of Truth. It disposes the thinking of
the void as that on the basis on which truths are seized.
One specic adversary, the sophist, polarizes the whole philosophical
process. As his operation also combines ctions of knowledge and ctions
DEFINITION OF PHILOSOPHY
25
of art, the sophist is externally (or discursively) indiscernible from the
philosopher. Nonetheless, the two are subjectively opposed, for the reason
that the sophists linguistic strategy aims to spare the expense of making
positive assertions about truths. In this sense, philosophy could also be
dened as the act by which indiscernible discourses nevertheless come to
form an opposition; or as the act that separates it from its double. Philo-
sophy is always the breaking of a mirror. This mirror is the surface of
language, onto which the sophist reduces all the things that philosophy
treats in its act. If the philosopher sets his gaze solely on this surface, his
double, the sophist, will emerge, and he may take himself to be one.
Philosophys relation to the sophist subjects it to an inner temptation,
yielding to which will cause it to split yet again. For the desire to do get
rid of the sophist once and for all hinders the seizing of truths: once and
for all necessarily entails that Truth annul the aleatoric nature of truths
and that philosophy unduly declare itself productive of truths. The
upshot of this is that a declaration of being true comes to stand in as the
double of the act of Truth.
Philosophys operation thus comes to be corrupted by a threefold effect
of sacredness, ecstasy and terror, which may lead it from the aporetic
void that sustains its act to criminal prescriptions. On this basis philoso-
phy induces every disaster in thought.
Disaster is held at bay by an ethics of thought that consists in the
restraint that philosophy exercises towards its sophistic double, a restraint
thanks to which it is subtracted from the temptation to split into two
(into the couple void/substance), leaving it to focus on the primary
duplicity that founds it (sophist/philosopher).
The history of philosophy is the history of its ethics: it consists in the
succession of violent gestures through which philosophy is withdrawn
from the disaster of reduplication. To put it another way: in its history,
philosophy consists uniquely in a process of desubstantializing Truth,
a process that also forms its acts own self-liberation.
26
CHAPTER THREE
What is a Philosophical Institution?
Or Address, Transmission, Inscription
I would like to attempt here a kind of deduction of the destiny of every
philosophical institution. I would like to explore the possibility of submit-
ting our institutional intuition to the concept. The danger is easy to see.
It is certainly less than that to which Saint-Just was exposed when
he maintained that institutions alone could prevent the Revolution from
ending in the event of its pure uprising. The risk I am taking consists
only in this: in reversing a materialist order whose specic effect has
been to immerse thought in the massiveness of the social and the organic,
I posit that philosophys own determination, as such, prescribes what
kind of institution might be adequate to it. In short, the concern here
is to draw a brief, and still uncertain, transcendental deduction of every
possible philosophical institution. As for real institutions of which the
unique to the world Collge international de philosophie is at the forefront
I recognize that their problems, their concerns, their internal competi-
tions and their elected instances are, as is reasonable, anything but
transcendental.
Let us start with its negative dialectic. An institutional prescription for
philosophy does not take a causal form. Nor that of an incarnation. An
institution cannot claim to be an effect of philosophy, nor can it offer its
body to philosophy, or turn philosophy into a body, into a Great Body, as
the specialists of French institutional sociology would say. But neither
can an institution for philosophy be of instrumental value, in the sense
that it would allow philosophy to full its aims. The basic reason for this,
in my view, is that these aims do not exist. I am not saying that philosophy
WHAT IS A PHILOSOPHICAL INSTITUTION?
27
has no destination. But I do not think this destination falls within the
realm of aims or nalities. Far from devising ends for itself, philosophy
always purports, in one way or another, to have done with ends, and
even to have done with the end. Philosophys greatest virtue consists in
the fact that, although not ceasing to conclude, it nevertheless attests to
an interminable imperative of continuation. It does not therefore require
any means for its abolished ends.
Neither effect, nor body, nor instrument. What then is a philosophical
institution? We might obviously argue that there is no such institution;
however, from the schools of ancient thought to the college that I cele-
brated a moment ago, the empirical evidence attests to the contrary.
Neither do I intend to engage in an interminable process of deconstruc-
tion, so as to show that, at the limit of the concept, these empirical
institutions have in reality organized a forgetting of their destination. No,
these institutions exist, and have a proven connection with philosophy.
But then what sort of connection is it?
I will maintain that what the institution treats of is not a line of causality;
is not the volume of a body; and is not the surface of an operation that can
be set to a plan. Rather, it treats of a knot, the institutions entire purpose
being to make sure that it does not come undone; and this same institu-
tions entire risk being that it get cut. A philosophical institution is a pro-
cedure of conserving a knot, a knot in danger of being cut, which would
cause its components to disperse. A good institution is knotting, opaque
and cannot be dissolved. A bad institution is segmentary, dispersive and
parliamentary. The rst, the good one, is serried and obscure. The second,
a cause of peril, counts the votes and divides up the functions, which
most often it only gathers together in the particularly unphilosophical
form of the colloquium. The caretaking of a knot is hardly compatible
with the occasionally prudent, occasionally violent, management of the
balance of factions.
What is the knot in question? I announced it in the sub-title: it is a
knot that ties together an address, a transmission, and an inscription.
Each one of these strands as occurs in a gure that my master Jacques
Lacan taught us to meditate on holds together the other two: what can
be said of them?
First, what I call philosophys address is not those to whom or that to
which it is addressed, but the subjective position that is specic to it.
What characterizes this position is that it is purely and simply empty. One
CONDITIONS
28
possible denition of philosophy might be that it has no speciable
address. There is no real or virtual community in a vis--vis with philoso-
phy. No statement of philosophy is addressed to anyone as such. This
is the meaning of stressing that what matters for philosophers is the
question. Questioning is a simple name for the void of the address. The
philosophers famous misaddress his maladresse has as its ultimate
essence a non-address, an absence of address. Every philosophical text is
in the poste restante and requires advance knowledge that it is there to be
found, since it was not sent to you.
Next, what I call philosophys transmission is an operation by which
it propagates itself through the void of its address. It is well known that
philosophy is propagated by the very small number of those who, against
all evidence, decide that it is addressed to them. Those that thus endure
in themselves the void of address create such a void in themselves. This
small number never make up a public or an audience, because a public
is precisely always that which answers or fulls (remplir) an address.
Philosophy cannot be transmitted through this fullness, this over-
fullment. This explains why philosophys transmission has never been
tied to the extension of a public, but instead to the restrained and ung-
urable (ingurable) gure of the disciple. A disciple is one who under-
takes to endure to coincide with the void of address. A disciple is one
who knows that he does not form a public or constitute an audience but
supports a transmission.
Last, I call philosophys inscription everything that turns the void of
the address into a subsisting mark, everything that philosophy writes. As
empty address, philosophy is in itself subtracted from the written, yet it
is not thereby destined for voice. Philosophy is that which, bound to the
void of the address, obeys the temporalized injunction issued by the
categories of being and event, and is on this side of voice and of the
written. It is, besides, this being on-this-side of voice and the written
that we have always named thought, and it is that to which the void of
the address accords. Inscription is the marking of this void, the intermi-
nable procedure of a subsisting suture with the subsistent, the effectivity,
the void. The inscription is open and offered to all, where the address is,
by contrast, empty, and transmission offered to some.
Note that it is always possible that the knot I speak of does not tie.
If this is the case henceforth undecidable then there has perhaps been
philosophy but not a philosophy. Only the knot confers historicity on
WHAT IS A PHILOSOPHICAL INSTITUTION?
29
philosophys existence. Only it decides that philosophy is there, in the
form of a particular philosophy.
The historicity of philosophy thus requires that there is an address
(generally covered by the proper name of a philosopher), some disciples
(generally covered by the proper names of other philosophers, who,
when their time comes, and after having submitted to the place of the
void, produce such a place) and books, which are generally covered
by the public instance comprised by the procession of commentaries,
editions and re-editions. These three instances are also that of the void
(the address), that of the nite (disciples) and that of the innite (the
inscription of its gloss).
It is clear that this knot is Borromean in nature, and consequently we
consider it founding of the historicity of philosophy. Without the knot,
philosophy, being reduced to the void of the address, would only be the
point of indistinction between thought and being. In effect, only inscrip-
tion holds the address and transmission together in time, since it is only
upon encountering a book, an inscription, that a new disciple can arrive
at the empty place prescribed by this age-old address. A disciple encoun-
ters this book precisely insofar as it is offered to all, and therefore insofar
as it accords with the innity of a prescription. It is no less obvious that
only the address holds together transmission and inscription, since
it alone attests to what the disciple was a disciple of, the empty place that
he occupied, whose inscription perpetuates its existence. It is thus the
void that, here as elsewhere, sutures the niteness of transmission to the
innity of inscription. And last, it is certain that only transmission holds
together the address and inscription, since a book cannot be written
except from the disciples standpoint, even if for the occasion, the master, to
write, becomes the disciple of himself. But every so often, as we know
(look at Aristotle, or Hegel, or Kojve, or even Leibniz, or Nietzsche, or
Husserl; look into the archives, the re-transcribed lessons, the reigning
disorder of notes and papers), yes, very often it is disciples in their ni-
tude that expose the void of the philosophical address to the innity of
prescription.
The whole point of a philosophical institution is to preserve the knot.
A philosophical institution is the custodian not of philosophy but of its
historicity. It is therefore the custodian of philosophies, in the plural. It is
the knotted plurality of philosophies as a resistance in time, which often
amounts to saying: as resistance to time.
CONDITIONS
30
What secondary imperatives does this rst entail? What are the
functions and the limits of the institution for philosophy by which, in
keeping with its destination, it preserves the Borromean knot of address,
transmission and inscription which is also to say the knot of the void,
the nite and the innite?
The rst derived imperative is obviously that such an institution be
involved in the detection and existence of the three strands of the knot
taken separately. And that it does so, I might say, without separating
them.
Concerning the address, in which the suture of philosophy to being
consists, this is something for which the institution can do nothing. It is
not because there are institutions that, as Parmenides said, the Same,
indeed, is at once to think and to be. This the same that is also an at
once is without any doubt an empty point, and the void is precisely
denable from the fact that its institution is impossible. Though we know
it to be untrue that the void lls nature with horror, it certainly does
institutions. Their incoercible tendency is towards a plenitude, which
over-completes it (trop-plein), which is precisely what makes their bear-
ing so very unnatural.
But what an institution can and therefore must do for philosophy
is to protect philosophers from the misaddress that arises as a conse-
quence of its void address. It must provide the void with an address;
it must be the address of the void of address. This means that it must
authorize that he that nothing recommends, and that, above all, is
neither recommended nor recommendable, feels at home in it as if it
were his home. How can one who claims to philosophize, and so to have
no address how can this one be recognized by the institution? This
institution for philosophy cannot recognize anyone; it can only address
him. It must quite simply test this indiscernible, and say that it will
furnish his address. Allow me to call this rst function of an institution
for philosophy its function as poste restante. It is an institution thanks to
which, contrary to what happens at PTT,
1
unregistered (non-recommand)
letters have a chance of arriving at their destination.
Concerning transmission, this institution must obviously multiply the
chances open to disciples to occupy the empty place of the address. It has
to make disciples proliferate. The onus is therefore on it to be an open,
vacant house through which those who are destined to the void of
a singular address may pass. A general pass demands there can be no
WHAT IS A PHILOSOPHICAL INSTITUTION?
31
criteria for attendance, or, as is the rule at the Collge international, that
seminar attendance is absolutely open to all, that there be no closed
seminars. Allow me to call this second function of an institution for
philosophy its function as a maison de passe.
2
Finally, concerning inscription, the resources of the ordinary edition
cannot sufce, because such an edition is conceived in terms of a public,
indeed in terms of publicity, and this does not conform to the essence of
philosophical inscription, the innity of which is measured in terms of
centuries, and not by exhaustion of the rst print run. In my view, it is
essential that an institution for philosophy print, edit and distribute
synopses, notes and books. And as it is a matter of publishing things that
are neither recommended nor recommendable, of distributing void
addresses and the obscure turmoil of disciples, and as the public of all this
is incalculable and shady, or so we should at least hope, you will permit
me to call this third function its underground printing press function.
An institution for philosophy thus organizes within it a poste restante, a
maison de passe and an underground printing press.
But its second major task is to keep the three strands tied together, to
tighten, but not cut on the pretext that the functions it involves are
disparate the Borromean knot of the historicity of philosophy. For this,
it is required that the custodians of the institution, those that constitute
its core, and they always exist, are able to circulate right throughout the
knot; that they have care and concern for its holding together; that they
themselves are cognizant of the paradoxical connections of the address
and transmission, of inscription and the address, and of inscription and
transmission. That they know how to articulate not solely the nitude of
needs and opportunities but the triplet of the void, the nite and the
innite. That their desire is genuinely to be, with neither visible discon-
tinuity nor caesura, inspectors of the poste restante, managers of the
maison de passe and underground printers. The only thing I really foresee
for such a task is a sort of convention of philosophers, convention in the
sense used by the people of the Revolution of 1792; that is, a collective
body seized by the seriousness or application of decision, which, as such,
is the place of decision, and which at the same time appoints large com-
mittees, investing them with wide powers, but in keeping a serious watch
over them. The law of such an assembly cannot be that of the majority,
because it is the law of the knot, of the historicity of philosophy, the law
of philosophys present. A convention of philosophers can alone prevent
CONDITIONS
32
the knot from continually being cut, historicity from being lost, and
avoid the risk that philosophy is put in order (mise plat), in short that
terrible and classic moment when the institution that was for philosophy
becomes anti-philosophic. We know the name of this danger: it is liberal-
ism. Liberalism is what seeks to undo everything, and thereby to leave
everything at the mercy of dispersion, competition, opinion and the
despotism of the public and publicity.
Nietzsche, on one of his good days, observed that laws are not made
against wrongdoers but against innovators.
Doubtless the inspectors of a wayward poste restante, the managers of a
maison de passe and underground printers are generally seen to be wrong-
doers. With regard to a philosophical institution, these gures are called
upon to be innovative, and so they will risk falling under the force of
laws, including those that the institution believes essential to its safe-
guarding. But assuming the strict discipline of the convention indeed
the convent-like discipline of an institution for philosophy to be good,
related as it is to a knot that must be guarded, tightened and retied using
new combinations of the void, the nite and the innite, then let it, this
cruel discipline, be put at the service of such innovators. Doubtless only
chance can see to it. A good institution for philosophy will therefore be
that which offers the wrongdoer, which for philosophy can only be the
declared enemy of all thought, and therefore the declared enemy of
being, the greatest power of chance, that is, the empty power of the void
of the address.
I shall conclude, as you might expect, with a wish: that if ever a philo-
sophical institution in the process of forming its convention and of regu-
lating anew the custodianship of the knot, if ever philosophy nds itself
put to the test of a collective decision, let us hope that no wrongdoers
dice throw will abolish the chance of this rare occurrence.
Part II
Philosophy and Poetry
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35
CHAPTER FOUR
The Philosophical Recourse to the Poem
Every philosophical enterprise turns back towards its temporal
conditions so as to take in hand their compossibility at a conceptual level.
In Heideggers work it is easy to discern four modes of this turning
back.
1. The point of support found in the intimate ek-stasis of time, in
effect, in experience such as it is ltered through the concern of a
question guiding its metamorphosis. This is the existential
ontological analysis of Sein und Zeit.
2. National-Socialist politics, militantly practiced by Heidegger as the
German occurrence of a resolute decision and of thoughts frontal
encounter with the nihilistic reign of technology, a confrontation
rooted in the categories of soil, work, community and appropria-
tion of site.
3. The hermeneutic and historical re-evaluation of the history of
philosophy thought of as beings destiny in its coupling with the
logos. We have here the brilliant analyses of Kant and Hegel, of
Nietzsche and Leibniz, and the lessons taken from the Greeks,
singularly from the pre-Socratics.
4. The great German poems, seized from 1935, in the course on
Hlderlin, as privileged interlocutors for the thinker.
This fourth support still survives today despite everything that man-
aged to affect the other three. Its audience in France, including poets
from Ren Char to Michel Deguy is the strongest subsisting validation
CONDITIONS
36
of Heideggers success in philosophically touching an unnoticed point of
thought detained in poetic language. It is therefore necessary, for
whoever wants to go beyond the power of Heideggerian philosophy, to
reconsider, in the terms of this philosophy, the couple formed by the say-
ing of poets and the thought of thinkers. To reformulate that which joins
together and separates out the poem and philosophical discursivity is an
imperative to which Heidegger, regardless of the mishaps of his affair,
obliges us to submit.
Let us start by recalling that, for Heidegger, there is an original
in distinction between the two terms. In the pre-Socratic consignment
(envoi) of thought, which is also the destinal consignment of being, the
logos is poetic as such. It is the poem that stands in as guard for thought,
as shown us in Parmenides Poem, and in Heraclitus maxims.
It is by a kind of axiomatic contestation of this point that I wish to
begin the reconstruction of an other relation, or non-relation (d-rapport),
between poetry and philosophy.
When Parmenides places his poem under an invocation to a Goddess
and begins it with the image of an initiatory cavalcade, we must main-
tain, I think, that we are not, that we are not yet, in philosophy. For any
truth that accepts a position of dependency with regard to narrative and
revelation is still gripped by mystery, whereas philosophy only exists
through its desire to tear down mysterys veil.
With Parmenides, the poetic form is essential; its authority justies
leaving the proximity between discourse and the sacred intact. Philoso-
phy, however, commences only with a desacralization: it establishes a
regime of discourse that is its own inherent and earthly legitimation.
Philosophy requires that the authority of profound utterance be inter-
rupted by argumentative secularization.
On this very issue, incidentally, Parmenides forms a sort of pre-
commencement of philosophy: that is, in his sketching, with regard to
the question of non-being, of a reductio ad absurdum. This implicit recourse
to an autonomous rule of consistency is, within the poem, an interrup-
tion of the collusion organized by the poem between truth and the sacred
authority of the image or of the story.
It is essential to see that the basis of this interruption can only be of
the order of the matheme, if we understand by this the discursive singu-
larities of mathematics. Apagogical argument is doubtless the most
signicant matrix of an argumentation based on nothing other than the
THE PHILOSOPHICAL RECOURSE TO THE POEM
37
imperative of consistency, and that proves to be incompatible with any
legitimation grounded in narrative or in the initiate status of the subject
of enunciation. The matheme here is that which, causing the Speaker
to disappear, removing any form of mysterious validation from its site,
submits argumentation to a test of autonomy, and therefore to a critical,
or dialogical, examination of its pertinence.
Philosophy began in Greece because it was the only place where the
matheme warranted the interruption of the sacral exercise of validation
by narrative (or as Lacoue-Labarthe would say, by the mytheme).
Parmenides names the pre-moment the moment still internal to sacred
narrative and its poetic capture of this interruption.
It is well known that Plato names this interruption himself, pushing
reection to a systematic distrust of anything reminiscent of the poem.
Plato proposed to us a complete analysis of this gesture of interruption
constitutive of philosophys possibility:
Everything concerning the poems imitative capture, its seduction
without concept, its legitimation without Idea, must be removed,
must be banished from the space in which philosophical royalty
operates. This rupture is a painful and interminable one (see Book
X of the Republic) but it is a matter of philosophys existence, and not
solely its style.
Mathematics, in the support it provides for the de-sacralization, or
the de-poeticization, of truth, must be explicitly sanctioned, peda-
gogically by the crucial place assigned to arithmetic and geometry
in political education, and ontologically by the intelligible dignity
that makes mathematics an antechamber to the ultimate deploy-
ments of the dialectic.
For Aristotle who is as minimal a poet as possible in his expository
technique (Plato, on the other hand, and he recognized it, always
remained susceptible to the charm of what he excluded) the Poem
was only one particular object offered to the dispositions of Knowledge;
at the same time, incidentally, he divests mathematics of all the attri-
butes of ontological dignity it had for Plato. Poetics becomes a regional
discipline of philosophical activity. With Aristotle, philosophys inaugural
debate is brought to a close, and so, stabilized in the connection of
its parts, philosophy no longer turns back dramatically upon what condi-
tions it.
CONDITIONS
38
So, as early as the Greeks, three possible regimes of the relation between
philosophy and the poem are encountered and named.
The rst, which I shall call Parmenidian, produced a fusion between
the poems subjective authority and the validity of utterances
deemed to be philosophical. Even when mathematical interrup-
tions gure in this fusion they are ultimately subordinated to the
sacred aura of utterance, to its profound value, to its enunciative
legitimacy. Image, the equivocity of language, and metaphor, all
escort and authorize the saying of the True. Authenticity resides in
the esh of language.
The second, which I shall call Platonic, effected a distance between
the poem and philosophy. The former is isolated as a debilitating
fascination, a seduction diagonal to the True, while the latter must
exclude the possibility that poetry might deal with what it deals
with in its stead. Avulsing the prestige of poetic metaphor necessi-
tates that a basis be found in that which, in language itself, contrasts
with it, namely, the literal univocity of mathematics. Philosophy
can only establish itself through the contrasting play of the poem
and the matheme, which form its two primordial conditions (the
poem, whose authority it must interrupt; and the matheme, whose
dignity it must promote). We can also say that the Platonic relation
to the poem is a (negative) relation of condition, one that presup-
poses other conditions (the matheme, politics, love).
The third, which I shall call Aristotelian, organized the inclusion of
a knowledge of the poem within philosophy, itself representable as
Knowledge of the kinds of knowledge. The poem was no longer
conceived of in the drama of its distance or in its intimate proxim-
ity; it was grasped through the category of the object, that is, through
that which, being dened and reected as such, came to delimit a
regional discipline within philosophy. The poems regionality
founded what was to become Aesthetics.
We might also express these three possible relationships of philosophy
(qua thought) to the poem as identifying rivalry, argumentative distance and
aesthetic regionality. In the rst philosophy envies the poem, in the second
it excludes it and in the third it classies it.
With regard to this threefold disposition, then, what is the essence of
the Heideggerian method of thinking?
THE PHILOSOPHICAL RECOURSE TO THE POEM
39
I will schematize it into three elements:
1. Heidegger quite legitimately re-established the poem in its autono-
mous function of thought. Or, more precisely, he sought to deter-
mine the site a site that is itself withdrawn, or undetectable from
which to perceive the community of destiny shared by the concep-
tions of thinkers and the saying of poets. We can say that his sketch
of a community of destiny essentially contrasts with the third type
of relation, which is subsumed under an aesthetics of inclusion.
Heidegger subtracted the poem from philosophical knowledge to
render it to truth. And in so doing, he founded a radical critique of
all aesthetics, of all determinations that construe the poem as
a region of philosophy. This foundation is established as one of the
pertinent traits of modernity (its non-Aristotelian character).
2. Heidegger showed the limits of a relation of condition in which the
only thing that is brought to light is the distance of the poem to phil-
osophical argument. In some particularly ne analyses, he estab-
lished that over a lengthy period beginning with Hlderin the poem
rallied round some essential philosophical themes; this was princi-
pally because over this period philosophy remained in thrall either
to science (the positivisms) or to politics (the Marxisms). It remained
in thrall to them in the same way that I said it was to the poem for
Parmenides: it lacked the play within which to establish its own law
with regard to these particular conditions of its existence. I have sug-
gested calling this period the age of poets.
1
Let us say that, investing
this age with totally original philosophical means, Heidegger showed
that it was neither always possible nor always just to establish a
distance to poetry using the Platonic procedure of banishment. Phi-
losophy is sometimes obliged to open up to the poem in a more dan-
gerous fashion: it must think, for its own ends, the operations by
which the poem sets a date with a truth of Time (for the period under
consideration the principal truth that was poetically put to work was
the destitution of the category of objectivity as a necessary form of
ontological presentation. This explains the poetically crucial charac-
ter of the theme of Presence, even when, as in Mallarms work, it
comes in its inverted form, that is, as isolation or as Subtraction).
3. Unfortunately, since, in his historical montage, and, more particu-
larly, in his evaluation of the Greek origins of philosophy, Heidegger
CONDITIONS
40
failed to validate the itself originary character of recourse to the
matheme, he only managed to revoke the judgement of interrup-
tion and thus to restore, using many subtle and varied philosophi-
cal names, both the sacral authority of poetic utterance and the
idea that the authentic resides in the esh of language. There is a
unity between, on the one hand, his recourse to Parmenides and
Heraclitus construed as delimiting a site of the pre-forgetting and
the coming forth of Being, and, on the other hand, his ponderous
and fallacious recourse to the sacred in the most contestable of his
analyses of poems, specially those of Trakl. The Heideggerian mis-
comprehension of the true nature of the mathematical sense of the
Idea (which is precisely what, in denaturalizing it, exposes the Idea
to the with-drawal [re-traite] of Being), entails that instead of
inventing a fourth relation between philosopher and poem one
that is neither fusional, nor distanced, nor aesthetic Heidegger
emptily prophesied a re-activation of the Sacred in an indecipher-
able coupling of the saying of poets and the thinking of thinkers.
I want to retain from Heidegger the devaluation of philosophical aesthet-
ics and the critical limitation of the effects of the Platonic procedure of
exclusion. On the other hand, I want to contest the idea that philosophy
is, as is claimed, in conditions that are those of its end and that this end
must be sutured to the authority, won without argument, of the poem.
Philosophy continues inasmuch as the positivisms are exhausted, and
the Marxisms eviscerated; but also inasmuch as, in its contemporary
force, poetry itself enjoins us to unburden it of all identifying rivalry with
philosophy, to undo the false couple of the saying of the poem and the
thinking of the philosopher. Because this couple of saying and thinking
forgetful of the ontological subtraction inaugurally inscribed by the
matheme is in fact that formed by the sermon of the end of philosophy
and the romantic myth of authenticity.
That philosophy continues frees the poem, as singular operation of
truth. What will become of the poem after Heidegger, after the age of
poets, in other words, in what will a post-romantic poem consist? The
poets will tell us, and they actually already have, since to de-suture
philosophy and poetry, to leave Heidegger behind without returning to
aesthetics, is also to think otherwise that from which the poem proceeds,
to think it in its operative distance, and not in its myth.
THE PHILOSOPHICAL RECOURSE TO THE POEM
41
Here are merely two indications:
1. When Mallarm wrote, The moment of the Notion of an object is
therefore the moment of the reection of its pure present in itself
or its present purity, what programme did he outline for the poem,
once it is attached to the production of the Notion? The issue here is
to determine the operations internal to language those of separa-
tion, and isolation
2
by which a present purity can be brought
forth, the coldness of what is present only insofar as it no longer has
any presentable link to reality. It could be argued that poetry is a
thought of the presence of the present. And that this is precisely the
reason for which it is not in rivalry with philosophy, which is con-
cerned with the compossibility of Time, and not with pure pres-
ence. Only the poem gathers the means to think the outside-place
(hors-lieu), or the beyond of any place, to think on some vacant
and superior surface that which of the present resists reduction to
reality, and to summon the eternity of its presence: A Constella-
tion, icy with forgetting and desuetude. That is, a presence that, far
from contradicting the matheme, also implies the unique number
that cannot be another.
2. When Celan tells us,
Wurfscheibe, mit
Vorgesichten besternt,
wirf dich
aus dir hinaus
which can be translated as
Cast-disc, with
Forseeings bestarred
cast yourself
out your outside
in what does the intimacy of this intimation consist in? I understand
it as follows: when the situation is saturated by its own norm, when
its self-calculation is relentlessly inscribed in the norm, and when
there is no longer any void between knowledge and prediction, it is
necessary to be ready, poetically, for the outside-of-self. Because
naming an event, in the sense I give to the latter, that is, that which,
CONDITIONS
42
being an undecidable supplementation, must be named for a being-
faithful, and therefore a truth, to occur this naming is always
poetic: to name a supplement, a chance, something incalculable, it
is necessary to draw from the void of sense, in the absence of estab-
lished signications, and to the peril of language. One must there-
fore poeticize, and the poetic name of the event is that which throws
us outside of ourselves, through the aming rings of prediction.
The poem, freed from all philosophical poeticizing, will no doubt have
always consisted in these two thoughts, these two givings (donations): the
presence of the present in the transxion of realities; and the name of
the event in a leap outside of calculable interests.
Nonetheless, we can and we must, we philosophers, leave the poets to
look after the future of poetry beyond all that the hermeneutic concern
of the philosophy has pressed on it. From the standpoint of philosophy,
our singular task is instead to rethink its liaison or its de-liaison with the
poem, that is, to think this relation neither in terms of Platonic banish-
ment, nor of Heideggerian suture, nor with the classicatory concern of
an Aristotle or a Hegel. What is it that, in the act and style of thought
pertaining to philosophy, was from the very start founded on condition
of the poem, and, at the same time, of the matheme, or of politics or of
love? This is our question.
The moderns, and the postmoderns even more so, have readily exposed
the supposed wound inicted on philosophy by the specic modes
through which poetry, literature and indeed art in general have borne
witness to our modernity. Art, it is alleged, has always presented a chal-
lenge to the concept, and on the basis of this challenge, of this wound,
we are asked to interpret the Platonic gesture as philosophys need to
banish the poets in order to establish its own royalty.
To my mind, there is nothing in such a gesture that is specic to poetry
or to literature. Plato had equally to hold philosophical love, philo-sophia,
at a distance from real love, which is caught in the malaise of desire for
an object. He also had to hold the real politics of Athenian democracy at
a distance in order to forge the philosophical concept of politeia. He like-
wise had to assert the distance and supremacy of the dialectic with regard
to mathematical dianoia. Poem, matheme, politics and love all of them
at once condition and offend philosophy. Condition and offence: thats
how it is.
THE PHILOSOPHICAL RECOURSE TO THE POEM
43
Philosophy wants to and must be established in this subtractive
point where language, divested of the prestige, or mimetic incitement,
of images, of ction and of narrative, is consigned to thought; where
the principle of amorous intensity is unlinked from the alterity of
the object and is supported upon the law of the Same; where the illumi-
nation of the Principle pacies the blind violence that is implicit in the
axioms and hypotheses of mathematics; and where, nally, the collec-
tive is represented in its symbol, and not in the excessive real of political
situations.
Philosophy is under the conditions of art, science, politics and love, but
it is always gnawed at, wounded, indented by the evental and singular
character of its conditions. Nothing about this contingent occurrence
pleases it. Why?
Explaining philosophys displeasure at the reality of its conditions pre-
sumes that we hold that at the core of its disposition lies a distinction
between truth and sense. Were philosophy only obliged to interpret its
conditions, were its destiny hermeneutic, it would gain pleasure from
turning back towards its conditions, and from saying, interminably: such
is the sense of what occurs in poetic work, in the mathematical theorem,
in the loving encounter and in political revolution. Philosophy would
then consist in the tranquil aggregate of an aesthetics, an epistemology,
an erotology and a political sociology. This temptation is very old, and
when one yields to it, philosophy is placed in a section of what Lacan
called the discourse of the University.
However philosophy begins when this aggregate is proven inconsist-
ent. When the stake is no longer to interpret the real procedures in which
truth resides, but to found a unique place where, under the contempo-
rary conditions of these procedures, is it stated how and why a truth is,
not a sense but rather, a hole in sense. This how and this why the
foundations of a place for thinking under conditions are only practical
in the displeasure involved in refusing givenness and hermeneutics.
They require the primordial defection of the givenness of sense, an
absense, an abnegation regarding sense. Or again an indecency. They
presuppose that the truth procedures be subtracted from the evental
singularity that weaves them in the real, and that knots them to sense in
the mode of traversing the latter, of hollowing it out. They therefore
presuppose that the truth procedures be disengaged from their subjective
escort, including from the objectpleasure they afford.
CONDITIONS
44
As such philosophy will:
Envisage love solely according to the truth that hatches on the Two
of sexuation, and on the Two tout court. But without the tension of
pleasuredispleasure kept in play by the loveobject.
Envisage politics as truth of the innite of collective situations, as
a treatment in truth of this innite, but without the enthusiasm or
sublimity of these situations themselves.
Envisage mathematics as a truth of multiple-being in and through
the letter, as a power of literalization, but without the intellectual
beatitude of the resolved problem.
And last envisage the poem as a truth of sensible presence lodged
in rhythm and image but without the corporeal captation of
rhythm and image.
What produces philosophys constitutive displeasure with regard to its
conditions, the poem and its other conditions alike, is to have to depose,
along with sense, the enjoyment (jouissance) that is determined there, at
the very point where a truth occurs as a hole in the sense-making of
knowledge.
Regarding the particular case of the literary act, whose kernel is the
poem; what is the ever offended and recalcitrant procedure of this
deposition?
The relation is all the more closer as philosophy is an effect of lan-
guage. The literary is specied for philosophy as ction, as comparison,
image or rhythm and as narrative.
The deposition here takes the gure of a placement.
Philosophy certainly makes use, within the texture of its exposition, of
ctive incarnations.
3
Thus, we have the characters of Platos dialogues
and the staging of their encounter. Or the interview Malebranche staged
between a Christian philosopher and an improbable Chinese philoso-
pher. Or the epic and novelistic singularity of Nietzsches Zarathustra,
a work that is borne along by the ction of a character to such an extent
that, in a text that is perhaps a little too hermeneutic, Heidegger was able
to ask: Who is Nietzsches Zarathustra?
Philosophy exploits image, comparison and rhythm. The image of the
sun served to expose to the day something of the presence that is essen-
tially withdrawn in the Idea of the Good. And who is not aware of the
marvellous paragraph 67 of Leibnizs Monadology, lled with cadences
MALLARMS METHOD
51
poem is withdrawn from poetry and rendered in its latent prose, enabling
philosophy to return to it from prose for its own ends:
What shipwreck, then, has engulfed even the mast and torn sails that
were the last remnants of a ship? On the ocean we see the foam,
which is the trace of this disaster, and which knows about it but says
nothing. The ships horn, which might have alerted us, could not
make itself heard; it was powerless to do so on this low sky and som-
bre sea, which, the colour of volcanic rock, imprisoned the possible
echo of a distress call.
Unless, furious at not having had any ship to make disappear, the
abyss (sky and sea) swallowed a Siren, of which the white foam would
be no more than a trailing hair.
Everything begins with an attestation of difference: there is the place,
the situation, a merging of sea and sky. And there is the foam, which is
the trace (the name), in the place, of a having-taken-place (of an event).
The poem has to treat the trace, has to remain faithful to it.
The trace (the foam) is a sort of name that knows (you know this) but
that obliterates this knowledge (but slobber on). The poem is therefore
obliged to name the name, that is, to assert the name as an evental nam-
ing. It works towards this by means of two hypotheses that are separated
by an or will that which: (i) the foam is the trace of the sinking of a ship
in this place; (ii) and the foam is the trace of a sirens dive.
On the basis of the foam, which supplements the nudity of place, ship
and siren become two vanishing terms. They leave the mark of the rst
subtractive operation, that of the event itself, insofar as it is only ever given
as abolished. The foam is what occurs only so as to name this abolishing.
The ship is implied by the sinking, the siren by the dive, or the drowning.
To underline that the name of the event can only be implied from its
disappearance, Mallarm then composes metonymic chains, built upon
the vanishing term liable to give body to this disappearing, which pare
the supposed body back to the edges of inexistence. The ship is evoked
only by the abolition not even of it as a whole but of its mast, its last
piece of wreckage, and by the hypothetical call of an inaudible horn. The
siren is resolved into her own childhood tresses, which in the end is but
a single, white hair.
CONDITIONS
52
If we agree to mark by crossing out with a stroke the subtractive action
of the vanishing of the term deemed supernumerary to the place (the
ship-event, the siren-event), then the two chains interrupted by the or
will that which can be presented as follows:
foam{
ship (bit of wreckage) mast (torn and abolished) horn
(ineffectual)
siren (drowned) hair
These vanishing terms possess all the characteristics of evental
naming
3
:
that there are two of them places them in the element of the
undecidable (this, or else that);
they convoke the void of the place or the situation, that is, its being
qua being: the ship is sunk and the siren stingily drowned, as if
the terms maintained their effect in their resorption in the empty
depths of the marine abyss, whose surface they are on in the
undecidable foam, the disappearing delegation.
However, that there are two hypotheses, two vanishings to peg the
trace (i.e., the foam) to the disappearing of the having-taken-place is not
simply, for Mallarm, a symbol of the undecidable. The introduction of
the siren in fact presumes a second negation that is not of the same type as
the rst. To be sure, the ship, in the perhaps-not-having-taken-place of its
sinking, supplements the place twice over: it is stripped of its sails by the
sinking, and its horn is extinguished (which is already a siren, but a
warning siren), so that even its last piece of wreckage is abolished; but
afterwards the shipwreck itself (and not only the ship) is also put into
question. Perhaps it was actually a siren. The rst subtraction gures the
vanishing of the supposed evental term under the foam that re-traces it.
The second cancels out this vanishing itself. And, on the basis of this cancel-
ling-out, the second and nal vanishing term (the siren) springs up.
Thus the second term is inscribed through the absenting of the rst,
which constitutes a radical lack insofar as it bears, not on the term
(the ship), but on its disappearance (the sinking, the ship). The Or will
that which proceeds to abolish the abolished, and thus marks the
MALLARMS METHOD
53
undecidability of the event by means of a scission that cancels its
hypothesis.
If the event character of the event is its undecidable character, all
vanishing (the rst subtraction, the pure event given by the primitive
name the foam) must also be suspended. This second subtraction, which
is a sort of subtraction from subtraction itself, I shall term cancelling.
That which took place, the ship, must fail in its having-taken-place, that
is if the poem is the thought of the event as such. Then, along comes the
siren, as ideal, which is the event established in its evental character inso-
far as it has undergone the trial of the vanishing of its vanishing (lvanoui
de son vanouir). This is the only way in which the poem can give us the
donation of the event with its undecidability. Last, to the vanishing subtrac-
tion of the event cancellation adds the need to decide its name. And how
to stage this decision poetically other than to revoke the rst supposed
name, and to mark it syntactically (or will that which) by a choice?
So, this poem thinks the thought of the event by placing a name that
is still lacking in concept (the foam) thus keeping us in the suspense of
not knowing whether the void of the place was really convoked in its
being in support of a pure choice at an undecidable point between two
vanishing terms, terms here the ship and the siren that are necessary
in order to seize the having-taken-place. Cancelling is the crossing-out
of evental vanishing with a choice that is entailed by the constitutive
undecidability of that which, for the time a disappearing takes, came to
supplement the atony of place.
2. HER PURE NAILS ON HIGH [SES PURS ONGLES TRS HAUT ]
Subtraction will always have its emblem in a poem that Mallarm was
rather proud of, which he described both as a sonnet which was empty
and reecting itself in all possible ways and as this was the title of the
rst version an allegorical sonnet of itself.
This is because in Her pure nails on high, which is devoted as usual to
thinking the pure event on the basis of its decided trace (trace decid),
each of the subtractive operations is deployed, and, as it thereby adds
foreclosure to vanishing and cancellation, it brings us to the theme of the
unnameable.
4
CONDITIONS
54
Without going into the syntactical constraints, I have presented the
poem here followed by its prose preparation to open it to a rst seizing:
With her pure nails offering their onyx high,
lampbearer agony tonight sustains
many a vesperal fantasy burned by
the Phoenix, which no funerary urn contains
on the empty rooms credences: no ptyx,
abolished bauble, sonorous inanity
(Master has gone to draw tears from the Styx
with that one thing, the Voids sole source of vanity).
Yet near the vacant northward casement dies
a gold possibly from the decorations
of unicorns lashing a nymph with ame;
dead, naked in the mirror she lies
though the oblivion bounded by that frame
now spans a xed septet of scintillations.
5
In an empty room, at midnight, agony alone prevails, fuelled by the
disappearance of the light. Such is the torch in the form of raised
hands, which bear only an extinguished ame, that the anguish of
the void cannot be cured by any trace of the setting sun, not even by
the ashes that might have been gathered in a funerary urn.
The poet, as master of places, has departed for the river of death, tak-
ing with him a signier (the ptyx) which does not refer to any exist-
ing object.
However, near the window facing out to the north, the gilded frame
of a mirror shines, very weakly, in which sculpted forms of unicorns
chasing nymphs can be made out.
All of this disappears, as if the nymph was drowned in the water of
the mirror, and then in its reection the seven stars of The Plough
suddenly appear.
The event suggested in the poem is obviously the setting of the sun, that
vesperal dream that is the most often used metaphor for disappearing
MALLARMS METHOD
55
as such in Mallarms work. The whole sonnet is devoted to nding and
treating in the place itself (no longer the sea and sky but an empty room)
the traces of this glorious vanishing, which I call the primitive names of
the event, and which are themselves supports of the indecidable (as the
foam was in the previous poem).
This time the poems extreme complexity results from the fact that the
two quatrains deal not with a given trace but with the apparent absence of
any trace. Here we clearly see that there is no total power of naming a
pure event, since this power falls under a restriction: concerning evental
disappearing, it may be that there is something in the place or situation
that is so withdrawn as to be simply unnameable.
We are already familiar with the underlying logic of vanishing and
cancellation that is exhibited in the tercets. Let us start, then, with what
follows the but assigned to dissipate the anguish of the unnameable.
The setting sun is the event at the limits of day and of night. There is a
rst metaphorization of it within the situation (the empty room) in the
division of the mirror: a gilded frame with unicorns on one side and a
dark mirror on the other. The gilded frame is like the vanishing sun of
which the mirror is the night. The agony of the frames gold leads on to
the nymph, which is a properly disappearing divisibility. Pursued by the
ame of the unicorns from the frame, she plunges, this new siren, into
the night of the mirror. In order to conrm the undecidability of the
event, this exemplary vanishing in turn also ends up vanishing. The
nymph would also have been totally done away with in the mirror (dead
naked), were it not for the appearance of the reection of a constella-
tion, which is very classically introduced by though (i.e., by using the
cancellation method).
Limiting ourselves to the tercets, then, we have:
The primitive support in which what is at stake is the naming of
the sun-event, that is, the mirror.
A rst vanishing term, a rst attempt at naming, that is, the nymph.
A second term that is related to the rst by the cancellation of its
disappearing, and that from then on xes a possible nocturnal
delity to the event: the constellation.
In this way we are given the sun-event, which is supernumerary to
the emptiness of the room, via the decision of the star, and this deci-
sion, which cancels that of the nymph, points to the undecidable.
CONDITIONS
56
On this basis what does the long preparation of the quatrains signify?
By contrast to the poems that immediately supplement the place for us
with a primitive name (sea + foam), this sonnet starts with a fruitless
inspection of the place, and only late in the piece is a mirror found,
whereby it becomes possible to go beyond the objective nullity of the
place. We clearly see that in their succession the urn (funerary), the
master (at the Styx) and the (inexistent) ptyx create a sort of threefold
ban of the subtractive. The rst contains only ashes, the second is dead
and the third is a word that says no word. But, above all, not one of them
is there, not one is attestable within the situation: there is no funerary
urn, the Master is gone and there is no ptyx. These entities are the
stuff of vanishing terms (or evental namings), since they only have
being in designating non-being. Nevertheless, they are unable to vanish,
since, as they are modied in the place by radical absence; they lack
any nameable effect. In this they differ fundamentally both from the
supposed boat, which was inferred from the foam, and from the mirror
that can be made out in the penumbra. These entities do not trace
anything; all they do is lack.
One cannot maintain that any of these terms are, like the nymph
(or the ship), affected by cancellation. Because if a vanishing term is to
be cancelled, and its subtraction is to serve to present the undecidable,
it also needs to bear a relation to a trace (the foam, the mirror), the
cancellation of which indicates that it supports another nominal advent,
that is, the siren or the constellation.
The urn, the master and the ptyx these terms have all the attributes
of a vanishing term, with the exception of the supposed act of vanishing,
which alone bestows on them a capacity to recall the event. They also
have all the attributes of the cancelled-out term, except that what is
cancelled out is only that which, at the point of the indecidable, might
have been supposed to be a vanishing term.
Or again: by contrast to the siren that came to be in the place of the
ship, and the constellation that came to be in the place of the nymph, no
other term can come to be in the place of these terms. They have the
property of being unsubstitutable.
These terms, then, must be assigned a totally different subtractive
function, which is not that of vanishing, as echo of the event, nor that of
cancellation by decision, as echo of undecidability. I put forward that
what these terms perform is a foreclosure: they indicate that the power of
MALLARMS METHOD
57
the truth distributed by the event in a situation does not exhaust all of this
situation. What is foreclosed from this power is that there is any such
thing as the subtracted per se, any unqualiable lack, or even anything
that the faithful marking of the event, the constellation that forms the
trace of the sun-event, could ever visit and name.
If the primitive terms (foam, mirror) are the stakes of marking the
event, of designating its site; if the rst vanishing terms (ship, nymph)
effectuate this marking itself in subtractive fashion; if, nally, the terms
issuing from cancellation (siren, constellation) point to undecidability,
and launch victorious thinking (i.e., truth), then the terms in foreclosure
comprise a halting point; they exhibit, in the place as absence to self, a zone
that is that of the unnameable.
It follows that in the poetic complexity of subtractive operations we
must distinguish between:
vanishing, whose value lies in marking;
cancellation, which avers the undecidable and sustains the truth;
foreclosure, which points to the unnameable, and xes the
uncrossable limit of a truth-process.
What does this poem tell us then regarding the content of the
unnameable, metaphorically rendered as radical lack (as that which is
subtracted from seizure by any post-evental truth)?
The Master (the poet) is at the Styx, clearly indicating that, in the
absence to self of the place, he is a gure of the subjects subtraction.
That every poem, in establishing its place, is paid for by subtracting its
subject is a veritable theorem in Mallarms work: The right to accom-
plish anything exceptional, or beyond the reach of the vulgar, is paid for
by the omission of the doer, and of his death as so-and-so. Foreclosure
here declares that at the locus of the poem the poet will remain unnamed.
And, more generally, that from the interior of a truth process the subject
of this process is unnameable.
There is no funerary urn. This time subtraction applies to death. The
afrmative power of a truth, such as it is supported by the constellation
on the vanished condition of the sun-event, comes up against death as
that which is never there.
Last, the pytx is simultaneously an abolished bauble, [a] sonorous
inanity, and thus a pure signier without signication, and the Voids
sole source of vanity, and thus a materiality without referent, an object
CONDITIONS
58
without object. Here the point is clearly one about language itself, about
the poetics of the poem, which has no guarantee apart from language
itself, no attestable referent corresponding to its not-all, and comprises
a Nothingness on which its gap is supported.
In this way, the foreclosed terms declare that the unnameable can
be stated either as subject, as death or as language. Victorious as it may
be in the mirror in which it rescues the situation from forgetting what
came to be in it, a poetic truth cannot force the statement into saying
either the subject that it infers (the poet), the cessation it prepares (death)
or the material that it contracts (language in itself).
To conclude: that these terms cannot be substituted tells us that at the
locus of the unnameable a singularity remains that no metaphor could
ever sublate.
3. PROSE (FOR DES ESSEINTES)
These three subtractive operations (vanishing, cancellation and foreclos-
ure) and these three objects of thought (the event, the undecidable and
the unnameable) do not set the ultimate stakes of the poem but instead
form its conditions (something must take place which is not the place)
and its limits (not everything is incorporated within the statement [dire]).
The nal question is that of the truth, or of the Idea or Notion, whose
advent supposes schemas of rupture and singularization that cannot be
rendered solely by a negative dialectic.
Let us rst dispel some misconceptions as to what is at stake in a poem.
A poem does not at all involve doubling the world with ill-assorted,
consoling imaginings: Modern man disdains the imagination, and the
gesture of the poet, having attained the sojourn of truth, is to keep it
from dream, that enemy of his trust.
The idea that what the poem transmits is the Presence of a nature is
also to be dismissed. Nature has taken place; it cant be added to, and
the cool morning [. . .] no sound of water but my utes outpourings
murmurs these two phrases give us to understand that no natural
ecstasy exists that stands up to the challenge of poetic production.
Last, Mallarms poetry has nothing of subjective condings: this is
because, as we have seen, the subject is in the position of unnameable.
MALLARMS METHOD
59
Mallarms poetry is therefore neither elegiac, nor hymnic, nor lyrical.
What does it stand up and deliver? Mallarm said it explicitly: the stake
of poetry is the Notion, the metaphor of which is also the Number. But
what is a notion? The moment the notion of an object is [. . .] the
moment of reection of its pure present in itself or its present purity.
The characteristic attribute of the notion is its purity. The stake of poetry
is to attain the pure; the poetic machine is subtractive only with a view
to a purication.
The quotes that follow, chosen from among many others, stand in
conrmation of the point:
the Number of the dice throw, which only has a chance of being
repeated if it is a product of the stars;
[t]he pure vase of any drink;
[t]he most pure sense that the poet gives to the phrases of the
crowd;
the virgin hero of posthumous expectation;
the sheer gleam of the Swan;
and in the notes for the last part of Igitur: With Nothingness
gone, all that remains is the castle of purity.
But what is purity? It consists, I would argue, in the composition of an
Idea that as such is no longer retained in any bond. This is an idea that
captures beings indifference to every relation, that captures its separated
scintillation, its multiplicity without Whole. This is the ideas coldness
(cold with forgetting and desuetude), its disjunction, the emblem of
which is the sea that becomes disjoined, properly speaking, from nature,
and its virginity, in the sense of a separating whiteness, of a probative cut,
such as in the famous text where the pure Two of the white (before writ-
ing and after writing) provides the only proof of the Idea: It is a virginity
which solitarily, before the transparency of an adequate look, divides all
by itself into fragments of candour, nuptial proofs of the Idea.
As assembled by the poem that brings it forth, the Notions purity
designates above all else the un-linked (d-lie) aspect of being, the
non-actual character of every law, of every pact that binds and re-binds.
The poem states that the condition of being is not to be in relation with
anything (Nothing, this foam, virginal verse). The heroism of the
thoughtpoem can be put in three words: (i) the negation of all natural
relations; (ii) the obstacle to be overcome, which is itself a subject
CONDITIONS
60
revealed in its anguish at the non-relation; (iii) the victorious coming
forth of the Idea. In three words which establish the verses impress:
solitude, reef, star; night and despair and precious stone; Diamond,
star, swan, a rose in the dark. . . Extirpated from the rule of the relation,
subtracted as much from nature as from the pathos of consciousness,
placed on a background of nothingness, facing the latent void of the pure
multiple, being shinesdistant, but measurable in truth. Seized by the
poems operation, the purity of being, like that of the dancers gesture,
yields the nudity of your concepts, and writes your vision like a sign,
which she is.
This seizing presumes, in addition to the major subtractive operations
that set out the evental conditions for all thought, the implementation of
schemas of rupture, whose sum effect is to break with the links in which
the poems starting point is enchained, to undo the representational
illusion of natural relations or conventional relationships.
There are two main schemas of this type: separation and isolation.
The rst, separation, consists in cutting out, from within the apparent
spatial and temporal continuity of experience, a multiple that is enclosed
when manifest, a sort of scene in which all that belongs to it can be
inventoried and enumerated. In this way we go from the hybrid con-
sciousness of the relation to the puried consciousness of a simple enu-
meration, of a detotalized multiple.
The second, isolation, consists in bringing forth a contour of nothing-
ness that extirpates the given from any nearness to that which it is not,
from all relations of proximity. This enables us to pass from the counted
or consistent multiple to pure multiple-being, to that which is subtracted
from the count, inexistent, a power of ontological purity.
We might say that separation is a schema of algebraic rupture (it
undoes the law of relation to yield a countable juxtaposition), while
isolation is topological (it suppresses proximities and connections that
work by contact, or simple succession).
Isolation (the numerical place, the multiple-scene of which is deter-
mined by separation) is the supreme operation of Mallarmean poetics,
conceived as a project of truth. It is the operation that yields the Idea,
and Mallarm was perfectly aware of it: Poetry [. . .] attempts hidden
chaste crises of isolation, while the other gestation takes place. Isolation
is what denes verse, which achieves that isolation of speech and
negates with a sovereign blow, the arbitrariness that remains in the
MALLARMS METHOD
61
terms. After describing his poetry as a solemn stir of words [that] stay
alive in the air, Mallarm could not have given Gautier greater homage
than by adding that it is what the diaphanous gaze [. . .] isolates in
the hour and radiance of day. And also for having clearly seen that what
is thus isolated is nothing other than a truth: already within these true
groves we stay.
To succeed in isolating a fragment of candour is what is required of
the poem in the Ideas service.
I will now point out the related functions of separation and isolation as
they are conveyed in that genuine Mallarmean poetical art that is Prose
(for des Esseintes). Here is the poem:
Hyperbole! can you not rise
from my memory triumph-crowned,
today a magic scrawl which lies
in a book that is iron-bound:
for by my science I instil
the hymn of spiritual hearts
in the work of my patient will,
atlases, herbals, sacred arts.
Sister, we strolled and set our faces
(we were two, so my mind declares)
toward various scenic places,
comparing your own charms with theirs.
The reign of condence grows troubled
when, for no reason, it is stated
of this noon region, which our doubled
unconsciousness has penetrated,
that its site, soil of hundredfold
irises (was it real? how well
they know) bears no name that the gold
trumpet of Summertime can tell.
Yes, in an isle the air had charged
not with mere visions but with sight
every ower spread out enlarged
at no word that we could recite.
CONDITIONS
62
And so immense they were, that each
was usually garlanded
with a clear contour, and this breach
parted it from the garden bed.
Ideas, glory of long desire,
all within me rejoiced to see
the irid family aspire
to this new responsibility,
but Sister, a wise comforter,
carried her glance no further than
a smile and, as if heeding her,
I labour on my ancient plan.
Let the litigious Spirit know,
as we are silent at this season,
the manifold lilies stem would grow
to a size far beyond our reason
not as the shore in drearisome
sport weeps when it is fraudulent,
claiming abundance should have come
in my initial wonderment
hearing the heavens and map that gave
endless evidence close at hand,
by the very receding wave,
that there was never such a land.
The child, already dexterous
in the ways, sheds her ecstasy
and utters Anastasius!
born for scrolls of eternity
before a sepulchre chuckles Ha!
beneath its forebear any sky
to bear the name Pulcheria!
veiled by too tall gladioli.
6
To open this poem to philosophical seizing before restoring it to the
closed immanence of its operations, it will sufce by way of prosodic
MALLARMS METHOD
63
preparation to take a passage as is from Gardner Davies, who, in accor-
dance with an expression he borrowed from Mallarm, deployed its
layer of intelligibility (couche sufsante dintelligibilit).
7
Here is his
recapitulative summary:
In the rst line, the poet calls upon hyperbole, a gure of discourse
very familiar to him, to call forth from memory a cabalistic expres-
sion, one worthy of guring in an old book of magic with metal bind-
ing. This is because the poet, in the patient labour that is his and that
he likens to the compilation of an atlas, herbariums, and rituals, is
applying himself scientically to translating the exaltation of idealist
elans. Here we have the statement announcing the poems theme.
Memory furnishes him with the reminiscence of a pleasant summer-
time walk that was had in the company of his younger sister in a
lovely countryside of comparable beauty to the young womans
charms. They become anxious, those who claim to know everything
and have authority over children, when they hear these latter say, in
all innocence, that this place of innumerable owers, which their
imaginations have explored in unison, has no name and so cannot be
put about by cheap publicity. But indeed, on this imaginary island,
whose air favours the penetrating gaze to the ash of objects, each
ower did grow to enormous proportions, coming to be surrounded
by an aureole of light that made them distinct from any garden ower.
In keeping with his long-standing desire to attain the level of Ideas,
the poet rejoices to see the irises full this new function. A wise com-
forter, the child continues to stare at him smiling, while the poet takes
care to return the child a carefully measured, ingenuous look. The
poet at once asserts, in anticipation of quibbling objections, that in
this shared silence the stems of these supernatural owers grew way
beyond the limits of human reason. This growth, he adds, is not
cumulative in the manner of waves crashing on the beach: such a
monotonously repetitious game would never have been able to intro-
duce the notion of magnitude into his mind, astonished at the endless
appeals made to the heavens, maps, and even waves surrounding the
island trying to prove it never existed. The young girl emerges from
her ecstatic silence and, calling on all the science at her disposal, pro-
nounces the word that is destined to take place in the pages of the
eternal grimoire Anastase resurrection. She makes this revelation
CONDITIONS
64
before at any time there existed a tomb, not under any
sky, that bore the inscription Pulcherie the beauty from which she
issues which in any case is dissimulated by the symbolic presence of
one of the giant owers.
Thus reworked into pre-philosophical prose, we can return to the poem
and open it up by way of ve punctuations, all of which aim to discern
the use of schemas of rupture of separation and isolation that break
with the appearance of relations (liens) and bring forth the star of being.
1. At the start of the poem, whose programme is laid out in the rst
two stanzas, we come across a crucial distinction between science, which
instils the hymn, and patience. Patience is a kind of labour wherein
(in the work of my patient will) a revelation comes to pass.
Patience is rendered specially with an encyclopaedic metaphor, mak-
ing it that much easier to decipher it as knowledge (in opposition to what
poetic science contains of truth): altases, herbals, sacred arts designate
lexical, classied knowledge, that is, multiples as bound and totalized.
By contrast, the poetical truth of science is likened to the creative formu-
las of alchemy, to the grimoire. And, as we see at the poems end, a single
word, Anastase, sufces to rescue the pure Idea of beauty for eternity.
This single term is separated out from a background of long-standing and
entangled forms of knowledge; it cuts through their heavy liaisons, but
it needs all the same to undertake the trajectory patiently. The sudden
de-linking of being is in effect, even if chance is summoned, a result.
2. The experience resulting in the Idea requires a Two, which the
poem defends against the implicit accusation of its uselessness ((we
were two, so my mind declares)) . It is clear that the Two is only actual-
ized as an ecstatic and silent co-presence before the growth of the ideal
owers (our doubled unconsciousness, at no word that we could
recite, as we are silent this season, the child sheds her ecstasy). For
the poet, a subtle heightening of conscious impulse emerges (all within
me rejoiced) and, for the sister, a contemplative and smiling calmness
(carried no further than a smile). It is, moreover, this taciturn calm that
is the true path on which the purity of the Notion can be made to emerge,
and the poet will have to exercise all his ancient care if he is to follow
his sister on this path. For, as we see in the Platonic analytic of love, the
Two has no function other than to convoke the Idea on the basis of the
sensible. Between the Two and the Idea there is no dialectic and no
MALLARMS METHOD
65
debate. It is a dubious thing to rejoice, and vain to recite words, when,
beyond all computational cognition, the innite of the essential ower
compels.
3. The passage from the scenic places of the third stanza to the wholly
established magical oral Place of the sixth puts both schemas of rupture
to effect, specially that of separation. This transformation creates the
multiple within which the star of being will come forth, suspended from
the chance of an utterance. It prepares the isolation of the Idea.
The initial multiple, the memory of a childhood promenade, is vague,
continuous, related and uncircumscribed. Moreover, it is bound, com-
pared and commented: towards various scenic places, Sister, comparing
your own charm with theirs. The fth stanza will circumscribe it and
rmly number it (soil of hundredfold), at the same time as it subtracts
it from all encyclopaedic access, from any seizure in terms of knowledge,
because it deprives it of every known name, or at least of every pro-
nounceable name (no name that the gold trumpet of Summertime can
tell). The owers, which ll out the whole site and therefore mark out
a stage where nothing is left in the shadows err among names: iris,
then every ower, then manifold lilies, then gladioli. This is because
at issue is to establish an intelligible Place, a pure multiple, naturally one
drawn and composed in the light (sight and not visions), but that is
also not related, nor relatable, to any possible empirical conguration.
Here separation combines the resources of number (a hundred irises,
manifold lilies), of the self-enclosed rmness of an outline and of the
silence that annuls every commentary, and hence the equivocation of
relation. It comes to a close in due course with the metaphor of the
island, which, thanks to its border and its isolation, is like the extreme
opposite of the charms of scenic places whence we began.
4. The owered island, the image of the Place of ideas, is explicitly
presented as a multiple that is not a Whole, has no relation and no rep-
resentable structure. The type of innite pertaining to such a multiple is
moreover subtracted from all measure and comparison. Prior even to the
nal act of isolation, the poem has denied relation any being.
What is convoked to the new duty of the pure notion is not the place
as such, or some instance of the One, it is the irid family, the multiple
of ideas (Ideas, glory of long desire). Furthermore, this multiple is also
un-linked in its very composition: each of the owers is in fact isolated
from all the others by a clear contour, and this breach parts it from the
CONDITIONS
66
garden bed. This aureole not only of light (clear or lucid) but also of
the nothingness (breach or lacuna) that surrounds each ideal ower
accomplishes a preliminary separation of the place through isolation.
Gardner Davies rightly emphasized that the owers ideality is desig-
nated by its separation with, and by its subtraction from, empirical
gardens, as in the famous absent from every bouquet. But more radi-
cally still, even the hypothesis of an ideal garden, which might have
established a link between owers in the suprasensible realm, is destroyed
by the lacuna. What we have here is the full effect of an operator of
isolation, of the cancelling of proximities, of topological relations. The
owers are foreign to every totality, and, like Herodias, they would say
yes, for myself alone I bloom, in isolation. Separation affords the poet
the sight of an untotalizable multiple, a juxtaposition of pure owers
that have no concept.
8
This is also why the growth of these owers, which themselves sym-
bolize the innity of the idea, do not yield any comparative relation, or
calibrated quantication, by contrast to the additive movement of waves
onto the shore (that monotonous game, in which, as something
repeated ad innitum, we can clearly recognize Hegels false innite). The
genuine innity of being, though it is related to the multiple, is not
bound to any bonds (liens) of reckoning, and does not carry any relation.
This is exactly what is meant in saying that the stem of the owers
grew to a size far beyond our reason. This pure excess of the size of
being is incidentally also the point on which the poem ends: the too tall
gladioli is the ultimate symbol of being, isolated at last, a symbol that
victoriously conceals that death, the sepulchre, is able to affect
beauty Pulcherie. This is to say that the excessive salvation of the Idea
depends on the operations of separation and isolation, operations that
yield the lacunary multiple, without whole or relation.
5. Last, you will observe that it is also possible to count the inexistence
of the intelligible Place among the schemas of rupture, not this time
with the poems point of departure (the memory of a promenade in the
countryside), but with everything whose existence can be attested by
knowledge by atlases, herbals and sacred rites.
This inexistence is amply modulated. Its sceptical witnesses are the
age of authority and litigious Spirit, that is, the realists and the natural-
ists, both of whom demand that existence be proven, that it be shown.
These witnesses are overcome with doubt by the fourth stanza, as they
MALLARMS METHOD
67
observe that the ideal site does not even have an indexed name. In the
third last stanza, the whole arsenal of forms of knowledge (the sky of
astral bearings, maps and even the direct inspection of marine sites) is
mobilized to establish that there was never such a land.
Yet it is at the precise moment when the scene of the ideal multiple
is thus subtracted from all known existence that the sister renounces
the taciturn voluptuousness of the true (sheds her ecstasy), and,
consenting to knowledge (already dexterous), she utters the word
Anatasia, that is, resurrection. When applied to the inexistent, such a
word rescues pure being for always. The implicit threat of death is there-
with removed, and in the foreground, the too tall gladioli a singularity
that is linked to nothing not even itself registers the intellectual victory
of the poem.
This victory consists in the fact that the word, that is to say the poem,
which is a total expansion of the letter, can nally be born for scrolls of
eternity. It must and this is the poems philosophical lesson be won
by separation and isolation, extracted from the tenacious illusion (that is
doxa itself) of the bond, of the relation, of familiarity, of resemblance, of
the near.
There is only truth when the innite at last escapes the family.
68
CHAPTER SIX
Rimbauds Method: Interruption
Rimbauds poetry obliterates the joy whose exposition it is. It renounces
the possibility that it establishes. It gets impatient with the daybreak of
thought to which it is devoted. And, more profoundly still, it puts shadow
and opacity right where it had given transparency and grace.
A Rimbaldian poem is its own interruption. This very caesura is what
it contrives, by means of which it makes, like woman in the work of
Claudel, a promise that cannot be kept. More harshly still, in the sense
that Rimbaud welcomed all harshness True, the new hour is nothing
if not harsh poetry is a promise that should not be kept. Its essential
inner lesson resides in this imperative.
By itself, this internal deception, this point of ight in which the poem
escapes from the poetry of the poem, in which it slips away is as though
a language contaminated by the plague, or as though a transparent water
that had been caught in some ignoble sluice, explains why it is that we,
in this centenary more than ever, go to seek a consolation for his poems
in the sandy legend of his life.
Because the interruption is brutal, unequivocal. It splits the poem in
two. Its operators are the nothing, the enough, the but and the no.
In the Drunken Boat, there is a ood of Parnassian rhetoric that verges
on radiant promise Million golden bird, o future Vigour and then
there is this: But, in truth, Ive wept too much! Dawns are heartbreak-
ing. / Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter, which is like the
abolition, or the revenge, of a zero degree of desire.
There are also invectives announcing the total destruction of the order
of power and history, as in Perish! power, justice, history, down with
RIMBAUDS METHOD
69
you! / This is our due Blood! blood! the golden ame!; but these joys in
times disaster are followed by the calamitous event of a kind of cosmic
inferno Dark strangers what if we left! come! come! / Woe! woe! I feel
myself tremble, the old earth, on me, more and more yours! the earth
melts and by this: It is nothing! I am here! I am still here!, which gives
us cause to think that the imperative of the march into hell, of what
Rimbaud called the whirlwinds of furious re, is totally empty, that we
are not due anything, that there is a force of attraction governing being
and the there, the xity of Dasein, that acts as a catchment basin, absorb-
ing everything that would seem to happen.
The same occurs in A Season in Hell where, after having described his
return as some erce adventurer, as he who has limbs of iron and dark
skin and a furious look, he who is made of gold and is lazy and brutal,
Rimbaud breaks it off dryly with the famous You cannot get away. Let
me follow the road here again, burdened with my vice.
What to say moreover of the terrible fall of Michel and Christine? There
is a stormy ight, and a magnicent pastiche of Hugo: Black dog, brown
shepherd whose cloak puffs in the wind. There is a lunar passage of
warriors. And here we again have the promise of a certain transparency:
And will I see the yellow wood and the bright valley, / The blue-eyed
Bride, the man with the red brow, o Gaul, / And the white Paschal
lamb, at their dear feet, / Michel and Christine, and Christ! . . . Yet
the end of this verse, which pivots on the crucially equivocating gure of
Christ, of this Christ who is for Rimbaud a name for renunciation of the
undecidable, interrupts the link made between the storm and loves
dispensation of transparency by prosaically declaring an end of the
Idyll.
The abruptness of the fall or of the caesura is literally staged in the
ironically titled Comedy of Thirst. In these poems, the part of the one called
I is to reply by heaping scorn on whatever is said in the preceding pas-
sage. Once again we encounter in them that non-dialectical negation,
the no that does not sublate anything, with which Rimbaud turns
poetry away from its own opening. It is a negation that proceeds from
the edge of a clearing (claircie), right when poetic simplication had
seemed to open the possibility of stating, unreservedly, the world in its
transparency. Thus, in the poem The Spirit we rst read Eternal Water
Sprites / Divide the clear water. / Venus, sister of azure, / Stir up the pure
wave. Which is followed by the vindictive Is response: No, no more of
70
these pure drinks, / These water owers for glasses. / Neither legends nor
faces / Slake my thirst.
But it is perhaps in that genuinely sublime poem Memory, where what
is told unfolds like the mystery in a timeless tale, that the interruptive
function is dispensed with the most rigour. Because the poem heedlessly
sets us within an imagery of joy, of what might be called an epiphany of
whiteness:
Clear Water; like the salt of childhood tears,
the assault on the sun by the whiteness of womens bodies;
the silk of banners, in masses and of pure lilies,
under the walls a maid once defended;
the play of angels;
1
But then, immediately following this, in a meter established half-way
between the fth and the sixth feet by the muted closure of the word
angel because in genuine interruption the order of saying is also dis-
turbed there is a brutal No, followed by three points of suspension.
And suspended we are. Because this no terminates the epiphany of
whiteness, giving way to a heavy and sumptuous terrestrial donation:
no . . . the golden current on its way,
moves its arms, black, and heavy, and above all cool, with grass. She
dark, before the blue Sky as a canopy, calls up
for curtains the shadow of the hill and the arch.
2
Further down, the innocence of a then, in the sense of and then . . .,
forms an ellipsis, an interruption that in the Drunken Boat had been kind
of trumpeted forth. In the latter Rimbaud separated ame from the gold
of black and of cold. In Memory, the caesura is situated between the airy
and the grey, between the breeze and motionlessness, between promises
of gratuity and labour:
the breath
of the poplars above is the only breeze.
After, there is the surface, without reection, without springs, grey:
an old man, dredger, in his motionless boat, labours.
3
Thus, at the heart of Rimbauds poetry there is a protocol, whose effects
of abruptness and dissipation the artist rened simultaneously, of a crack
71
between what being carries of the promise of presence and what, in the
withdrawal that modies it, it enforces, in the form of a law of return and
motionlessness.
Looking at this oeuvre, so short in its entirety, it seems to me that this
exhibition of being in its splitting, the poetic establishing of a contour
of ruin (bord de perte), supposes the singular work of prose within the
poem. I am not speaking here about the becoming-prose of the poem,
about the itself undecidable status of the poetic afrmation in Illumi-
nations. No, what I am talking about is the way Rimbaud established
prose implicitly within the heart of the poem. There is a prose lying in
wait in this poetics, a prose that is obtained by a reordering (drglement)
of verse using lexical contrasts, would-be platitudes and a peremptory
syntax. And in addition to the clear markers of its operation that is, the
nos, the enoughs and the buts interruption consists in the brusque
rise to the poems surface of the ever possible prose it connes. We see
this, for example, in his poem Brussels in which a decasyllable, veering
off-course, causes the poem to soar, enclosing it in an angels wing, as
in Then, since rose and r tree of the sun / And tropical creeper have
their play enclosed here. However this movement (deport) thereby also
contains the possibility of prose, since with it verses intrinsic basis is
removed, the sensible here is no longer captive to number. Seven lines
later, we read: La Juliette, that reminds me of lHenriette / A charming
railway station. It is as though Rimbaud wished to have the resources of
prose in store within the poem in order to interrupt it. And so also a store
of deception or disappointment.
Even in Memory, there are incises of prose that, anticipating the nal
state of xity, pointing in the esh of the poem to the impasse of pres-
ence, are engendered not only by means of metric instability, but above
all by means of the instability of images, of their always evasive associa-
tions. Thus, in the fourth stanza:
Purer than a louis, a yellow and warm eyelid
the marsh marigold your conjugal faith, o Spouse!
at prompt noon, from its dim mirror, vies
with the dear rose Sphere in the sky grey with heat.
4
In the unallied sliding of colours (yellow, rose, grey), in this nely
worked epiphany that joins the noon to the mirror of water, the brusque
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72
mention of conjugal acts as a reminder, by which to disrupt the image,
that in the inmost depths of this slow charm there lies a prose as dry as
a notarys report.
For interruption effectively aims to disappoint; it attests to the radical
doubt that besets the epiphany. And this prose waiting in ambush is,
with respect to the poem, which due to its instability and its ight com-
presses and conserves it, the latent gure of this doubt.
We might say that prose impuries presence.
Pure presence is breath and movement alone; it is the grace of
what lifts off into clarity. As it happens, there is in Rimbauds oeuvre one
and only one poem where this breathing is maintained until the very
end without interruption or repentance. The fact that this poem is,
as one says, in prose is only apparently paradoxical. This poem, unlike
many others, contains precisely no latent prosaism. It is, on the contrary,
a piece of prose that is thoroughly imbued with poetry. In question
here is the text from Illuminations entitled Genie, which is something
like the complete inhabiting of the French language by a principle of
weightlessness, and which from beginning to end forms the gure of a
visitation:
He knew us all and loved us, may we, this winter night, from cape to
cape, from the noisy pole to the castle, from the crowd to the beach,
from vision to vision, our strength and our feelings tired, hail him and
see him and send him away, and under tides and on the summit of
snow deserts follow his eyes, his breathing his body, his day.
5
At the other extreme, when, prose-struck and doubt-stricken, pres-
ence is terminated, we are left with the situation as imperative. Let us
say that the full force of the law, duty, the universal attraction of the
already-there and the motionless, can only be experienced as an effect of
interruption. The duty-to-be (devoir-tre) is only being itself, insofar as it
is what is left of vanished donation.
There is no doubt one poem, The Crows, in which Rimbaud rendered
under a sign of death that merges the debacle of the war of 1870 in with
the worthlessness of its existence this prescriptive reverse (envers) of an
interrupted presence as is:
But, saints of the sky, at the top of the oak,
A mast lost in the enchanted evening,
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73
Leave alone the May warblers
For those who, in the depths of the wood,
In the grass from which there is no escape,
Are enslaved by a defeat without future.
6
In the May warblers, in the enchanted evening, there is no longer any
epiphanic worth. There is no longer any trembling, breath, visitation. The
warblers are the promise that one begs the saints of the sky to leave aside
for those for whom the entire breadth of the possible is withdrawn.
The key words here are enslavement, defeat and the suppression of all
temporal opening. And they trace, without any process of interruption,
that which marks interruption downstream of its effect.
But, between The Crows and Genie, between the defeat of enslavement
and inexhaustible breathing, Rimbauds poems are most often devoted
to interruption itself, to what it is that carries to language less the ecstasy
of givenness or the ungurable duty of being-there than an instanta-
neous see-sawing from one to the other. What captivated Rimbaud was
the enigma of this point, and it is to make truth of it, like of a pure event
for thought, that he had need of the resources of poetry.
This is why I would say that what Rimbaud attempted in the interrup-
tive operation of the poem was a thought of the undecidable.
One should not understand by undecidable here the banal adolescent
dilemma between an open and working (oeuvreants) life and a life attached
to family, mother and work (le travail). Even if in the themes of race,
work and rootedness Rimbaud captured for all time without, alas!,
destroying it what could be called the Petainist vision of the world, which
he summed up thus, in the glancing light of his historical consciousness:
Rather, let me keep away from justice. The hard life, simple brutish-
ness let me lift up with a withered st the cofns lid, and sit down
and Be stied. Thus, no old age, no perils. Terror is not French.
7
We see here that Rimbaud does not neglect to say that, for a Petainist
vision of the world, Robespierre and Saint-Just who for some, includ-
ing myself, ground along with Rimbaud and Mallarm, and Hugo and a
few others, the only tolerable idea of France that exists must be set
apart from Frances stinking and motionless being. And it is true that
France, insofar as it exists, is not a being, but an event. France itself must
be decided. Always in violent division.
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74
However, nor is this undecidability one between what is played out
abstractly between freedom and what ought to be. Nor it is even, as
urgent as the metaphor of departure in Rimbauds work is, a conict
between wandering and return, between Aden and Ardennes. Rimbauds
savoir-faire, of course, was always evident in his expressions, and it was
no different in his rendering of that n-de-sicle commonplace, the call of
the open sea. Baudelaire, in 1857: Free man, youll always love the sea.
Mallarm, in 1865: Still, my soul, listen to the sailors sing. Rimbaud, in
1871: Down below alone, and lying on pieces of unbleached / Canvas,
and violently announcing a sail! There is, though, nothing productive
about his irrigating of poetry with salty water. But nor is this poetry a
poetry of the nostos, of an immemorial attraction of the original site that
might offset the indistinction of the Ocean. Poetrys arbitration is not one
between the sea and land, or colony and metropole.
The undecidable division of being itself, of being qua being, is distrib-
uted by the poem between its legal situation and the disappearing of the
pure event. In Rimbauds poetics, the undecidable comes with our being
proposed, literally, and in all senses, two universes, and not only one.
This composition is that of someone who stands before a sudden decision
for which there is no norm. If the derangement of the senses (drglement
de tous les sens) habituates one quite frankly to see a mosque in place of
a factory, a school of drummers made up of angels, carriages on roads in
the sky, a parlour at the bottom of the lake, then interruption is the
undecidable divide in this seeing. And all the more so as such a seeing
proceeds frankly.
Let us show, in an ill-authorized digression, the mundane prose that
this dissembles in the terms of my own discourse. When Pierre Mauroy,
who was Francois Mitterands prime minister at the time, and the late
Gaston Defferre, who was the minister of our interior, found nothing
more to say before a massive strike of workers demanding a basic right
than that it was the doing of inhabitants who were foreign to the reality
of France, and subversive Shiites, it might be surmised that they, too,
suddenly saw a mosque at the site of a factory. But this alchemy of
governmental speech, which turns worker gold into immigrant lead, has
not nished making us pay for the mindless return of sheer Le-Penist
stupication, of that most inept Gaul on the earth. And the reason is
quite simply that these governmental declarations contained neither
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75
vision nor divide. This in return allows us to understand what Rimbaud
meant by the derangement of the senses (drglement de tous les sens), and
that, by contrast to the criminal blunders of state opinion, involves the
torsion of a method of truth.
Torsion, because it ruins beings unity, and because all description is
immediately caught in the erceness of a preliminary decision regarding
a now twofold proposition, in a way that what is to be named is some-
thing that no longer has any guarantee, no longer any innocence, and
that the poem, devoted to the notation of the sensible, to the sensible
thought of the sensible, but devoid of any donated (donatrice) unity, is
twisted in the gap in which it must decide.
Interruption consists in an act of a duplicitous description, of a
juxtaposition that is almost unintelligible between two incompatible
gures of being.
Let us name these two universes, since we have their extreme limits
at our disposal, as though they were isolated, that of Genie, and that of
The Crows.
Both the universe of Genie and that of the Crows are poetically com-
posed of emblematic terms and operations, of characters and relations
(rapports). These are characters and relations that knot a state on this
occasion a state of grace for which the poem suggest names, names
whose lightness, whose faintness of breath, ought not dissemble that in
the matter at hand these names are sacred.
Of course, taken as pure signiers, the characters of the rst universe
can of themselves gure in the other universe. Interruption traverses the
names themselves. The most agrant case is that of women.
The word woman recurs throughout Rimbauds work as belonging to
the rst universe. The poem Sensation revolves almost entirely around
the promise this word brings. The poem begins with the combination of
pure light and departure that we also see in Genie: In the blue summer
evenings, I will go along the paths. Then it moves towards an ecstatic
suppression of thought and the torment of language: I will not speak,
I will have no thoughts: / But innite love will mount in my soul. And
it closes with the words: joyous as if with a woman.
The Blacksmith, a very Hugolian poem, proclaims as ideal a working life
lived beneath the solemn smile / Of a woman we love with a noble
love.
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And we know that one of the words for hell in A Season in Hell is to be
denied the camaraderie of women.
But women are actually also at the heart of the second universe, and
in this sense Rimbauds homosexuality itself is a gure of undecidability;
woman are as much crows as they are genies. One naturally thinks of the
furious diatribe of My Little Lovers:
O my little lovers,
How I hate you!
Plaster with painful blisters
Your ugly tits!
8
More profoundly, there is what I would like to call woman under
interruption, the one that supports the dry no whereby it is attested
that the universe that woman seemed to authorize in its being is always,
ultimately, abolished. There is, for example, that funerary exclamation
in the Sisters of Charity, bearing in mind that, as bequeathed by Baudelaire,
the word sisters designates woman as the clearing (claircie) of
existence:
But, o Woman, heap of entrails, sweet pity,
You are never the Sister of charity, never.
9
Interruption, here marked by never, also divides woman, who is
emblematic in that she co-belongs to both universes.
The other gure from the universe of Genie that I would like to con-
sider a moment is rather more stable, and untainted by division, and
that is the worker. The worker is a major poetic reference for Rimbaud.
There is, of course, the worker of the Commune, of prophetic revolt, the
one who says:
We are Workers, Sire! Workers! We are
For the great new times when men will want to know,
When Man will forge from morning to night,
A hunter of great effects, hunter of great causes,
When, slowly victorious, he will tame things
And mount Everything, as one mounts a horse.
10
Then, in Seven-year-old Poets, there is the worker crowd, the black mass
that marks the transition between the Mothers Christian imperative,
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77
who closes the exercise book, and the promise of the amorous pasture,
where shining / Swells, natural perfumes, golden puberties / Move
calmly and take ight!. Workers here are the sensible force that under-
mines God:
He did not love God; but the men whom, in the brown evening,
Swarthy, in jackets, he saw going home to their quarters,
Where town criers, with the three drum rolls
Make the crowds laugh and roar over edicts.
11
As close as possible to the allusive transparency of being stands the
workers of the poem entitled A Good Thought in the Morning. This is the
daybreak of being, the miraculous supplementation by which dawn
makes an offering to the night of love:
At four in the morning, in summer,
The sleep of love still continues.
Under the groves dawn evaporates
The scent of the festive night.
12
Then a But is uttered in objection to this sleep . . . and the workers
But yonder in the huge lumberyard
Toward the sun of Hesperides,
In shirtsleeves the carpenters
Are already moving about.
13
Nevertheless, this But, which might be taken as an interruption, and as
a breaking of dawns enchantment by the evocation of work, is only a
feint. The word worker this is one of Rimbauds poetic contributions
does not signal a rising of the poems latent prose to its impatient surface.
There is no prosaism, for Rimbaud, in the sonority of the worker. Workers
blend in totally naturally with givenness of the rst ush of morning;
they revive the evening of love whose morning is like a salvation that
natural being destines it to:
Ah! For those charming Workers
Subjects of a Babylonian king,
Venus! leave Lovers for a little while,
Whose souls are crowned.
14
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78
Here the uppercase letters given alike to the words Workers and
Lovers places them, under the banner of a Goddess, within the unity of
the ecstatic universe.
More, Love is also the decisive relationship in this universe. Rimbaud,
as we know, made of love the active key to salvation, that is salvation
understood in the sense it takes on in the famous I want freedom in
salvation. Salvation happens in accordance with the ultimate promise of
the season in hell, to possess truth in one body and soul. Since what
comes into question in this maxim is the body. And it is no exaggeration
to say that, for Rimbaud, what is at issue in the name of love is the body
in which a truth lies.
15
Love is the materiality of salvation. It is, Rimbaud said, the call of life
and song of action; love is what he, as poet, is called upon to express:
Someone will speak of great Love / The thief of Somber Indulgences.
Love is the consumate form wherein the promise of being is stated: Ah!
Let the time come / When hearts are enamoured. Love is the passage of
visitation, apparent in Genie: He is love, perfect and reinvented measure,
miraculous, unforeseen reason. Love is what we, erect in rage and
boredom, see pass by in the sky of storms and the ags of ecstasy.
Love bestows the exact state of being within a redeemed universe. Of
the names Rimbaud assigns to this state, eternity is the supreme one.
Genie ascribes an eternity to love from the outset: we might even say that
this state is love, but Rimbaud added and eternity: [a] machine loved for
its qualities of fate.
But what is eternity? Eternity, to all appearances, is nothing other than
the presence of the present. It is sensible givenness insofar as it is the
indiscernible of the intelligible, pure movement insofar as it is the indis-
cernible of pure light. It is, precisely, what is said there for all time:
It has been found again
What? . . . Eternity
It is the sea gone off
With the sun.
16
Eternity is indeed also the warm green mist of afternoon. Or again
the bath in the sea, at noon. It is already in in those good September
evenings when I felt drops / Of dew on my brow, like a strong wine.
Eternity is within reach, since it is, in time, time itself, or what Plato
called the always of time. Eternity is what, in a gure brimming over
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79
with nostalgia, one salutes in what one will never see again, endless
sandy shores covered with white rejoicing nations, while a great golden
ship utters many-coloured pennants in the morning breeze.
But by the summer of 1873 it was all too late. Directly following the
supreme evocation of white nations and golden ships Rimbaud declared:
I have to bury my imagination and my memories.
This is because the poem that proclaims eternity regained in the
indivisible alliance of light and wave is contraposed with the question
that insists in A Season in Hell, a question that precisely is hell: Oh! Poor
dear soul might eternity not be lost to us?.
Between eternity rediscovered and eternity lost, there is, with a
distance, an interruption that leads onto the world as such, onto this
world that has an imperative form that Rimbaud, straight after asking
Quick! Are there any other lives?, became resigned to proclaiming the
only form acceptable: I am reborn in reason. The world is good. I will
bless life. I will love my brothers. There are no longer childhood prom-
ises. Nor the hope of escaping old age and death.
But this desire to decide, at the point of the undecidable, for the second
universe, for the one that is always already there, so manifest in A Season
in Hell; this desire to annul the promise, or at least to attenuate the little
weight it has, was a long-standing one. Indeed, downstream of interrup-
tion, Rimbaud hatched a world of imperative, and of return and motion-
less, the force of which often offsets that of grace (but, as always, within
the poem itself, and well before the famous silence) or else that suspends
its effect, or even, and most often, decides against it.
We have already seen how the caesura strikes and mutilates all epiph-
anies. And how an emblem as decisive as that of woman is distributed
between two universes, between genie and crows. The reason for this is
that the composition of the universe of duty, the earth in question at the
end of A Season in Hell, the earth to which, as Rimbaud said, I am sent
back to seek some obligation, to wrap gnarled reality in my arms, is a
composition spun of ancient powers.
Its central gure is the Christ, with which Rimbaud pursued a diffrend
as radical as that which distinguishes the redeemer from Dionysus-
Nietzsche.
There can be no question of delving into Paterne Berrichons idle
chatter about Rimbauds becoming religious. Instead, let us pay heed
because the characteristic of this poets act of declaring is precisely its
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80
seriousness, its totally unplayful lack of humour to this declaration:
I have never been one of you; I have never been Christian. Christ is not
a name of religious sentiment. As Jacques Rancire has forcefully stated,
Christianity for Rimbaud is above all the already-there of salvation,
which, because it has taken place, strikes the idea of a new Christianity
with impossibility. As a result, I should say, Christ is the name of the
already-there of being; it is the name of a situation that, even though
what it names is a crippling misfortune, is nevertheless always sublated.
In this sense the Christ is a name of Rimbauds poetry, an immanent
operator, one bound up in a complex series together with woman,
worker, mother, virgin, madness, Orient, France and a few others.
In the rst place, Christ designates that interruption familiar to poets
who transpose the Greek gods into the dialectical and mediating God of
the West. He traces the entrenched path of our thought, but this path is,
as Rimbaud said, Oh! the path is bitter / [Ever s]ince the other God
harnessed us to his cross.
But, above all, the Christ is the name of what prohibits us from keep-
ing the choice of universes open indenitely, of maintaining the tension
of the undecidable. Since, for this opening, we have need of undimin-
ished force, of an energy that exposes us to eternity. When Rimbaud
exclaimed: Christ! O Christ, eternal thief of energy, he designated the
power of powerlessness, or the temptation to seek consolation. Christ is
less the name of what inclines us toward the universe of Crows than a
name that claims that the already-there of being is sufcient to life,
which is said to carry its principle of consolation within itself, and,
consequently, which works to divert us from every abiding exposure to
what the matinal surprise of the event admits of by way of truth.
The Christ names being to the extent that a solace is found in some-
things being simply no more than it is.
The victim of Christ is not the believer. It is someone who has been
vanquished, someone who has been vanquished but who persists in
drawing enjoyment from this defeat. It is the infant about whom the
poet spoke in Seven-year-old Poets: [. . .] In summer / Especially, over-
come, stupied he was bent / On shutting himself up in the coolness of
the outhouse.
But, as with every poetic emblem, Christ would be powerless were it
not possible to read in his name a long-standing afrmation. The truth is
that what these latrines designate for Rimbaud is the other place of his
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81
desire and thought, a dark paradise that is on a par with the exquisite
whitenesses of eternity. This is a paradise whose literary fortunes would
continue until Guyotats Eden, Eden, Eden. It is a paradise of rottenness
and black water, of mud and urine. Underneath the force of duty, of
science, of the rough reality to embrace, there is that Christ-like tempta-
tion of abandonment, not at all to lust or to the alchemy of the word,
which are preliminary operations for eternity, but to the motionless
otsam of existence in a harsh place, and with no accrual of prestige,
where existence becomes absolutely nondescript.
This is clearly the meaning of the peroration of The Drunken Boat:
If I want a water of Europe, it is the black
Cold puddle where in the sweet-smelling twilight
A squatting child full of sadness releases
A boat as fragile as a May buttery.
17
It is also the meaning of the Is response to the supposed friends after
they vaunt the wines which go to the beaches and the waves by the
millions:
I would as soon, or even prefer,
To rot in the pond,
Under the horrible scum,
Near oating pieces of wood.
18
And it is also the meaning, in Memory, of that suspect Joy / of aban-
doned boatyards, a prey / to August nights which made rotting things
germinate.
We know for sure that the power of this desire is itself undecidable,
inasmuch as it is situated between abjection and saintliness. With it
Rimbaud initiated a powerful literary gure that extends as far as Genet
and Guyotat, and throws light on Proust and Beckett from below, a gure
that nds the sublime of spirit in excrement, in the anonymous sodo-
mized and trampled body.
Rimbaud knew precisely that the rst universe, that of the ethereal
sun and visitation, nds support in madness (linsens) and self-
destruction. Again in A Season in Hell, he evokes in the past tense this
foundational link that exists between obscure desire and the light of
being: I dragged myself through stinking alleys and with my eyes closed
I offered myself to the sun, the god of re. He evokes the correlation in
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82
thought between sewers and the transparent re of the sky: Oh! the
little y drunk at the urinal of a country inn, in love with rotting weeds,
a ray of light dissolves him!. To speak like Patrice Loraux
19
, this Oh,
which bears an h, is all the same suggestive of laying oneself open to
the offering of the little radiant y up above the urinal.
In fact, this undecidable coupling of the epiphany and a desire for
soilure had already been given its grotesque form as an interruption
without marker in the exclamation: The Lilies, clysters of ecstasy!.
It must nevertheless be admitted that, be it in the terms of sublime
abjection, this desire is bound to the word of Christianity. And also
that this desire further pushes the undecidable in the direction of the
operator of Christ. For as violent and asocial as it may appear, this desire
is internally eaten away by the logic of a salvation already present within
it. It speaks like the infernal spouse, the sexual seducer:
When you no longer feel my arms around your shoulders, nor
my heart beneath you, nor this mouth on your eyes. Because I will
have to go away someday, far away. Besides, Ive got to help out oth-
ers too: thats what Im here for. Although I wont really like it . . .
dear heart . . .
20
What is given expression here, against which Verlaine could do
no more than brandish a vain revolver, is, following his penetrating
caress, the Christ of disgusting duty, the one whose kiss, as we are told
in a poem, is putrid. Urine, sex, caress, excrement if ever they appeal
to thought, they only resolve, alas, in favour of the dead God.
Interruptive force, consolatory temptation, the termination of
eternity I understand their secret source less as residing in a privilege
accorded to the simple duty of living than in this latent and muddied
gure, this disgusting sublime that makes poetry aspire to the enchain-
ment of being, this time given as non-being, or as an in some way ruined
instance of presence. It is of course with this enchainment that Memory
is concluded:
Ah! Dust of the willows shaken by a wing!
The roses of the reeds devoured long ago!
My boat still stationary; and its chain caught
In the bottom of this rimless eye of water, in what mud?
21
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83
But before the moment of yielding to the attraction of perplexity,
which here interrupts the poetic attempt thoroughly, depriving it of
object; before the universe of realism, with the deep silt of that force
named Christ, prohibits Rimbaud from even understanding what he had
wanted to achieve under the injunction of the sea gone off with the sun,
there is the undecidable itself, the absolute core of thought:
Toy of this sad eye, I cannot pluck,
o! motionless boat! O! arms too short! neither this
nor the other ower: neither the yellow one which bothers me,
there; nor the friendly blue one in the ash-coloured water.
22
Neither one ower nor the other: what the poem, halting between the
two, on the threshold of yellow and blue, summons us to is the event
that it issues only to interrupt. Poetry existed, for Rimbaud, inasmuch as
the division of being between the ash blue of its identity and the
bothersome yellow of its supplementation by love was left unresolved.
Doubtless thereafter all that remained was the science of which he
dreamt while in Africa: geography and surveying, strict commerce,
accounts and photographs, minerals and unknown peoples, all of which
had to be described with precision. This was the kind of science with
which he associated work.
But science, brought into poetry, was unable to come to a decision at
the point of the undecidable. And this was so, in Rimbauds view, for an
essential reason, namely its slowness.
Jacques Rancire sees in sciences slowness a motif of merely second-
ary importance.
23
I would object that Rimbaud asserted exactly that.
However, slowness, above all, is not an external attribute, a simple given
of history. That for which science is too slow is the poem; because the
poem must prepare for the interruption through a sudden appearing.
The promise of science is monumental, and can only be captured in the
gigantic poetic arch of a Hugo. The headlong rush of Rimbauds poetry
towards the question of the event and the caesura is not made for raising
monuments to the progress of spirit.
However, his poems almost from the outset contain a hypothesis
about a possible conversion to the joint disciplines of science and
work. It is a hypothesis that conforms to the burlesque gure of inter-
ruption in What is Said to the Poet Concerning Flowers. The suave gure of
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the young poet, beholden to lilies and roses, and described as usual in
the white of his matinal ingenuity O white Hunter, who run without
stockings / Through the Panic pastures is here broken, knocked about
by the prosaic injunction of knowledge and commerce.
Merchant! colonial! Medium!
Your Rhyme will rise up, rose or white,
Like a ray of sodium,
Like a bleeding rubber-tree!
24
But what gradually becomes obvious is the relationship, which is out
of keeping with the alas of rst morning and joy, between science and
patience. This is expressed in A Season in Hell, which, as with everything
it expresses, does so in the simplicity of the explicit: Labour I know; and
science is too slow. The poem had, though, been begun with a hymn:
Ah! Science! [. . .] And royal entertainments and games that kings
forbid! Geography, cosmography, mechanics, chemistry! . . . Science,
the new nobility! Progress. The world moves! Why shouldnt it? We
have visions of numbers.
25
We could almost think that visions of numbers appear above some
splendour of the universe, that they relay the dawn, that they yield being
in a composition that has broken loose of Christic siltation. This effec-
tively appears to me to be the case. But it is not so for Rimbaud, who once
again interrupts the supposedly progressive, or progressist donation
by declaring the return of pagan blood. Yet another return completed by
the irremissible:
Careful, mind. Dont rush madly after salvation. Train yourself!
Ah! science never goes fast enough for us!
26
In fact, Rimbauds poetic linking of science to patience, through the
attraction of their nales, occurs well before A Season in Hell. Patience is
a true word for the undecidable. There are four poems that are placed
under the general title of Feasts of Patience, and this title alone inscribes
patience within the order of that which works to prepare the coming of
daybreak. Thus:
I have endured to long
That I have forgotten everything;
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85
Fear and suffering
Have own to the skies.
27
But patience switches abruptly into the other universe, that of perpet-
uation without eternity, of repetition without presence. Patience then
becomes something that must be overcome, by means of the suddenness
of some drama:
Being patient and being bored
Are too simple. To the devil with my cares.
I want dramatic summer
To bind me to its chariot of fortune.
28
In its coupling with science, patience advances in a disenchanted
universe: Knowledge and fortitude, / Torture is certain.
In this way the word patience is traversed by interruption, including in
the poem celebrating its feast.
Hence, it has to be argued that, for Rimbaud, the science implied in
patience is exactly a non-science, not science, which is also an impatience,
an impatience for science. An impatience tout court. Impatience itself.
For Jacques Rancire, Rimbauds impatience is, although attested, of the
order of the vulgate, of pious discourse. It explains nothing. This is also
my view, for the impatience of which I speak does not pertain to explana-
tion. To be sure, as impatient as Rimbaud may have been, this impatience
is not a character trait, a capricious impulse. It is a category of thought.
To understand it, the impatience in question ought not be seen as a
subjective relation to time. It is a relation to truth. And as truth issues
from an event and weaves a delity; as truth is thus a ash, or lighting
up as well as labour; as it founds a time, and yet is eternal, it prescribes
to a subject whose stuff it is, the irresolvable conict between an impa-
tience and a patience.
Among the multiple workers of a truth, irrespective of which, it is
seldom the same workers that truth assigns to the patience and to the
impatience it requires. Rimbaud knew perfectly well that he was
doomed to impatience, or that his poetic task was, as he said and what
patience could ever do it? to record the inexpressible, or to describe
frenzies.
Impatience in truth, in and for a truth, is exactly that: xation,
notation. Patience is deduction and delity.
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Rimbauds poetry is both completed by means of and brought to
an end by impatience. And this is so not only for poetry, but for all that
I refer to as truth procedures. We have already encountered the impa-
tience of science. There is also the impatience that has been inscribed
in politics since the crushing of the Commune. And there is the impa-
tience of love since Rimbauds passion for Verlaine. When Rimbaud
concluded A Season in Hell by declaring, For I can say that victory is
mine, there can be no mistaking that what is at issue is a victory over
the patient operation that every truth involves. This is why, with
a nal pirouette, he announced that the truth is something he shall be
permitted to possess. But if Rimbaud knew perfectly well that, in the
guise of the unexpected opening of a universe, if he knew, if he feared,
that the only way in which we can become the subjects of a truth is by
deciding for the patience of its innity, then he also knew that truth is
most certainly something that we can never possess, since it is truth that
transxes us.
It must be accepted: the bitter victory of A Season in Hell is a victory
against the undecidable. Rimbaud may well have observed that We are
not in the world, or that Real life is absent. But it was only to ask,
prematurely: Quick! Are there other lives? Why quick, if not because
in forging lifes forces with the appeal of mud and latrines, as in the poems
of moveless and ruined being, there is an injunction to impatience?
It is the undecidable itself that he attacked in stating: A hard night!
Dried blood smokes on my face, and nothing lies behind me but that
repulsive little tree. The tree of Good and Evil, no doubt, but rst and
foremost the tree that simultaneously carries without our being able to
decide impatiently between them the yellow ower and the blue
ower, the tree that carries being as surprise and supplement, and being
as conguration and vacuity.
Rimbaud in essence decided that, and it is here that the poem as
capture of the undecidable served him personally, if truth is not all given
in the daybreak of its event, if it requires the patience and delity of a
labour or an incompletable series of hazardous attempts, then it is better
to suppose that it does not exist. Rimbaud dreamt of a truth that would
be coextensive to the entirety of a situation. To pursue thought according
to the directives of a predicateless innitive, to trace, in keeping with the
rule of the evanesced surprise, its pure singularity, did not touch any
desire in him.
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87
So, when detached from every supposition concerning the truth of an
event, there is nothing actually left but to do ones work, (the law of
which is established by the situation). And when subtracted from antici-
pations of truth, all that is left is to devote oneself to the practical virtues
of knowledge. Along the way, one will repent, like weary revolutionar-
ies, for having supposed that the world could be other than it is, or that
eternity might appear in the violent lack of the times. As Rimbaud said
(and it is admittedly not what I like most about him): Well, I shall ask
forgiveness for having lived on lies. And thats that..
The interruption in his poems is an impatience applied to seizing and
suspending the undecidable. That is where Rimbauds genius lay. But
interruption is self-combusting; interruption is an impatience with this
impatience, so that ultimately it is what decides. And what it decides is
that nothing was ever undecidable.
Hence, what I seek at the very site at which Rimbaud interrupts
himself, or interrupts his genius of the interruption, is the gure of
Mallarm. The absolutely patient gure of Mallarm.
Both were poetthinkers of the event and of its undecidability. Both
sought, in the lifeless period following the crushing of the workers of the
Paris Commune, to preserve a sudden appearing in the thought of
the poem, to preserve the trace and light, if only a secondary light, of a
pure presentation. Both discovered the origin of the poem in the visita-
tion of a having-taken-place heterogeneous to the opaque and voiceless
spread of being. But Mallarms chief purpose was to declare, using a
schema not of interruption but of exception, that unremitting thought
keeps eternity at a distance. It may well be that nothing takes place but
the place, other than that the undecidable of the dice-throw brings forth
a Constellation. Icy with forgetting and desuetude, this is precisely what
Rimbaud caught a glimpse of and terminated: the vision of being in the
Number. And it is conquered by means of a lengthily calculated supputa-
tion, which treats of the undecidable in the element of its abolition.
Rimbaud found this distance exasperating, since what obsessed him
was a sort of instantaneous diffusion of the True throughout the entire
expanse of experience, the choice of a universe in which pure presenta-
tion overcomes representation. It is quite true that, for Rimbaud, if life,
or what is called life, is left unchanged, then the appropriation by thought
of being as suspended between its xity and its donation is lost to all
desire. Better, then, to speak in favour of the indeterminate, anonymity
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88
and commerce, as if one were mimicking, in exchange for ones body, a
ctive genericity of the whole actually existing universe.
Mallarm, for his part, upheld that it is as patient singularity that a
truth will turn out to be veridical, in the isolation of its procedure, with-
out its ever fusing with the situation in which it insists. The province of
poetry is a restrained action, one that changes thought, and leaves unde-
cided an undecidability that metaphorizes that of the event, no matter
the extent to which it affects situated being.
Rimbaud it is the law of impatience as intellectual gesture could not
be satised with restrained action. Either truth transgures being as
given, or then only one restriction can be placed on it, that which excises
impoverished objects from desire for a subject that nothing any longer
distinguishes, an honest trader for whom poetry, at a sidereal distance, is
really no more than what Season already says it is: one of his follies.
Thus we are in turn summoned to the undecidable choice between the
patience of the concept and of the generic becoming of a truth, and the
impatience of whoever, assigned by eternity to the sensible form of time,
making the idea tremble in the imminence of what is mortal, exposes
himself to disappearing in its interruption. Between Mallarm and
Rimbaud.
Poetry has always propped itself up on exactly this undecidability,
because for our education and joy it separates out the poets of incitement
and the poets of composition, the tropes of interruption and those of
the exception. On the one hand, there is the enough! of impatience, the
abrupt nos and buts of de-liaison. On the other, there are the excepts,
the otherwises and the thoughs, which rescue thought from being
engulfed in the nullity of the site through a patient exposition of the
void. In Rimbauds work, there is a power of unprecedented, evanescent
grace, which brings me to say that, yes, as a pure poet, in those moments
in which he avowed to be touched by language, he went further in his
inventions than is possible with Mallarman labour. In Mallarms work,
however, there is such a strongly articulated process that, though occa-
sionally a little self-enclosed, nonetheless will eventually yield the Idea.
To love poetry is to love not being able to choose.
However, the philosopher, I mean the philosopher in the constraints
of our time, with its confusion and its atomism, cannot hesitate in me.
However radiant and brutal is the poetics of interruption, however
persuasive its ultimate desire (and which I see in myself, let us say
RIMBAUDS METHOD
89
the desire to have a post in an administrative centre in a canton of
the rural south-west, since here at least restraint and patience are merely
a rule of the situation), it betokens the same mimetic temptation which
acts as if because truth was supposedly missing, it is spread out a little
all over that Plato, from the beginning, rebelled against. The only poets
to escape his condemnation are those, like Mallarm, whose subtractive
patience dispenses with corporeal mimesis, with pursuing the burden
of the sensible, and who know that there is truth only in an onerous
exception.
Contestable as is the will to maintain, almost eviscerated, in increasingly
complex and misunderstood operations, a delity to an original disappear-
ing, it is only thus that today the imperative of philosophical seizing can be
upheld (but tomorrow perhaps it will demand impatience, and Rimbaud).
Lifes polymorphous impatience is provisionally of no use to us.
More, Rimbaud might well have said that the philosophers endeavour
is too slow. His impatience carried him to the Orient, which is for him
the site of non-philosophy. I expected to return to the Orient and to
original, eternal wisdom. This is something, he added with the lucidity
that drove him to canvass all the possible names of impatience in which
philosophers can only see a dream of depraved laziness. Rimbauds
retort to this: Philosophers, you are part and parcel of your Western
world.
And perhaps Rimbaud was out to interrupt the West. But it was in
not seeing that what was stirring before his eyes, and in which he pro-
ceeded, ordinary and mortal, to participate, consisted fortunately for
thinking and contrary to the use once made of this category with the
compass rose in the pure and simple disappearance of that West, its
dissipation in monetary abstraction. The anticipatory response to which,
in the poem itself, and not in its abandonment, consisted in what
Mallarm called the disappearance of the poet speaking.
If the historical poem, the poem of poets, need not choose between
interruption and disappearance, insofar as in it being is given to express-
ing, in every instance, the lacuna and the un-presented, philosophical
seizing, as for it, when like today it re-seizes its power, will inhere in the
relation without relation of evental disappearing and generic exception.
The centenary of Rimbauds death ought to be seen as a hijacking of
what these times require of us. What is that massive panegyric, pre-
sented under the thus sullied names of Mozart and Rimbaud, of the
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90
radical, wayward and brilliant adolescent? Would anyone with their wits
about them not be mistrustful, in these times in which each day is an
ambush of the worst, of a tee-shirt plastered with the face of a rebel
genius? Who does not see to what a slaughterhouse of concepts and
real action we are led by the noisy parade for life and impatience, for
plenitude and the re of sun, and for youth, when what alone is needed
to save thought is the idea and patience, the void and the cold Constella-
tion, an ageless tenacity?
From the depths of Harrar where this stiing centenary tracks him
down to no avail, Rimbaud, I am persuaded, because his impatience
disposed him to think the moon was made of green cheese, says to us:
Careful! In your current situation, you have no need of me! No wayfar-
ers, great as they may be. The era of wayfarers is over. Now you need
Mallarm.
Part III
Philosophy and Mathematics
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93
CHAPTER SEVEN
Philosophy and Mathematics
What are we to make of the relation between philosophy and mathe-
matics? Is it to be thought of as a difference? An inuence? A boundary?
Or perhaps an indifference? It is none of these. I understand it as follows:
thinking this relation means determining the modalities according to
which mathematics has been, ever since its Greek origins, a condition for
philosophy. What is required is to think the gures by which, histori-
cally, mathematics has been entwined in the determination of the space
proper to philosophy.
From a perspective that is still descriptive, it is possible to identify three
of these modalities or gures:
1. From the standpoint of philosophy, the rst modality determines
mathematics as an approximation of, or preliminary pedagogy for, ques-
tions that otherwise fall to philosophy. Mathematics is recognized as
having a certain capacity for thinking rst principles, or for the knowl-
edge of being and of truth, philosophy being the perfected form of this
capacity. We shall call this determination the ontological modality of the
relationship of philosophy to mathematics.
2. The second modality is one that treats mathematics as a regional
discipline, a section of knowing in general. Philosophy then sets out to
examine what it is that founds the regionality of mathematics. It at once
classies mathematics in a table of forms of knowledge and reects on
the guarantees (of truth or of correctness) of the discipline so classied.
We shall call this determination the epistemological modality.
3. Last, the third modality posits that mathematics is entirely separate
from the questions, or questioning, proper to philosophy. In this vision
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94
of things, mathematics is a register of language games, a formal type or a
singular grammar. In any case, mathematics does not think anything.
The most radical form of this orientation consists in subsuming mathe-
matics within the general concept of technic, of the unthought manipu-
lation of being, of its annihilating levelling as pure standing-reserve
(disponibilit). This I shall call the critical modality, since it performs a
critical disjunction between, on the one hand, the eld specic to math-
ematics, and, on the other, a thinking of what is at stake in philosophy.
So, the question that I would like to ask is the following: where do we
currently stand as regards the articulation of these three modalities?
How is philosophys mathematical condition to be situated from within
philosophy itself? The thesis that I wish to put forward takes the form of
a gesture, a gesture that involves re-entwining mathematics into the
innermost structure of philosophy, from which it has in actuality been
excluded.
1
Todays task consists in a new conditioning of philosophy by
mathematics, a conditioning that we are doubly late in putting into place.
We are late both with respect to what mathematics itself has pointed out,
and with respect to the minimal requirements necessary for the continu-
ation of philosophy. What is essentially at stake is a crucially urgent
question, which threatens to exhaust us: how can we emerge from,
nally emerge from, our subjection to romanticism?
1. THE DISJUNCTION WITH MATHEMATICS AS PHILOSOPHICALLY
CONSTITUTIVE OF ROMANTICISM
Up to and including Kant, mathematics and philosophy were so entwined
that Kant (following Descartes, Leibniz, Spinoza and many others) still
saw in the mythical name of Thales a congenial origin of mathematics
and of knowing in general. For all these philosophers, it seemed patently
obvious that it was mathematics alone that had enabled the inaugural
break with superstition and ignorance. For them, mathematics was the
singular form of thought that had interrupted the sovereignty of myth, and
that had given us the rst form of self-sufcient thinking, one independ-
ent of any sacred posture of enunciation; in other words, mathematics
was the rst form of fully secularized thinking.
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
95
Now and Hegel is decisive in this matter romantic philosophy will
proceed to almost entirely dis-entwine philosophy and mathematics.
Romantic philosophy made possible the conviction that philosophy can
and must deploy a thinking that at no point internalizes mathematics as
a condition of that deployment. I maintain that this disentwining was
the romantic speculative gesture par excellence, to the extent that it
retroactively determined the classical age of philosophy as one in which,
in various modalities, the philosophical text still internalized its mathe-
matical conditioning.
Empiricist and positivist attitudes, which have been highly inuential
for the last two centuries, merely invert the Romantic speculative
gesture. The claim that science constitutes the one and only paradigm of
the positivity of knowledge can only be made from within a complete
disentwining of science and philosophy. The anti-philosophical verdict of
positivisms reverses the anti-scientic verdict of romantic philosophy, but
without altering its fundamental principles. It is striking that Heidegger
and Carnap disagreed about everything, except about the idea that it is
incumbent upon us to inhabit and practise the end of Metaphysics. The
reason is that for both of them the name metaphysics designates the
classical age of philosophy, an age in which mathematics and philosophy
are still entwined in a general representation of the operations of thought.
Carnap hoped to isolate the scientic operation, and Heidegger sought to
oppose to science, as a nihilist avatar of metaphysics, a line of thinking
that draws on the poem. In this sense, both of them are descended,
although on different sides, from the romantic act of disentwining.
From here is possible to see why the positivisms, the empiricisms
and the rened form of sophistry epitomized by Wittgenstein are so
obviously incapable of determining mathematics as a type of thinking,
even though determining it otherwise (as a game, a grammar, etc.)
means going against all the available evidence and offending the sensi-
bility of every mathematician. For, in their very kernel, what logical
positivism and Anglo-Saxon linguistic sophistry basically claim but
without the romantic force of any knowledge of this claim is that
science is a technic of which mathematics is the grammar, or that math-
ematics is a game and the only important thing is to identify its rule.
In neither case does mathematics constitute a type of thinking. The only
major difference between the romantics, who inaugurated what I shall
call the second modern era (the rst being the classical age), and the
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96
positivists or language-sophists, is that the former preserve an ideal of
thought (in either art or philosophy), while the latter only admit forms
of knowledge.
One aspect of this issue is that, for a great sophist like Wittgenstein,
it is pointless to enter into mathematics. More cavalier than Hegel,
Wittgenstein proposes a simple brushing up, a glance cast from afar like
one an artist might cast on chess players:
The philosopher must twist and turn about so as to pass by mathe-
matical problems, and not run up against one which would have to
be solved before he could go further.
His labour in philosophy is, as it were, an idleness in mathematics.
It is not that a new building has to be erected, or that a new bridge
has to be built, but that the geography as it is now, has to be described.
(Ludwig Wittgenstein, Remarks on the Foundations of Mathematics
(Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1978), 52, V5253, pp. 3012).
But the trouble is that mathematics, as an exemplary discipline of
thinking, does not lend itself to description, nor is it representable in
terms of the cartographic metaphor of a country to which one pays a
quick visit. Moreover, it is impossible to be lazy in mathematics. It is pos-
sibly the only form of thought in which the slightest wandering of atten-
tion results is in the pure and simple disappearance of what was being
considered. This is why Wittgenstein was forever speaking about some-
thing other than mathematics. He spoke of the impression it had on him
from afar, and, more signicantly, of the symptom it represented in his
own itinerary. But this descriptive and symptomatological treatment
already presumes that philosophy can hold mathematics at a distance.
It presumes precisely the general effect that the Romantic gesture of
disentwining seeks to produce.
What is the crucial presupposition for the gesture whereby Hegel and
his successors managed to effect this long-lasting disjunction between
mathematics, on the one hand, and philosophical discourse, on the
other? In my opinion, this presupposition is that of historicism, which is
to say, the temporalization of the concept. It was the newfound certainty
that innite or true being could only be apprehended through its
own temporality that led the Romantics to depose mathematics from its
localization as a condition for philosophy. Thus the ideal and atemporal
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
97
character of mathematical thinking gured as the central argument
in this deposition. Romantic speculation opposes time and life as tempo-
ral ecstasis to the abstract and empty eternity of mathematics. If time
is the being-there of the concept, then mathematics is unworthy of
that concept.
It could also be said that German Romantic philosophy, which pro-
duced the philosophical means and the techniques of thought required
for historicism, established the idea that genuine innity only manifests
itself as a horizonal structure for the historicity of the nitude of existence. Yet
both the representation of the limit as a horizon and the theme of
nitude are entirely foreign to mathematics, whose own concept of the
limit is that of a present-point and whose thinking requires the presup-
position of the innity of its site. For historicism, of which Romanticism
is the philosopheme, mathematics, which links the innite to the
bounded power of the letter and whose very acts break with any sense
of time, could no longer retain its paradigmatic status, whether it be with
regard to certainty or with regard to truth.
We will here call Romantic any disposition of thinking which deter-
mines the innite within the Open, or as horizonal correlate for a
historicity of nitude. Today in particular, what essentially subsists of
Romanticism is the theme of nitude. To re-entwine mathematics and
philosophy is also, and perhaps above all, to have done with nitude,
which is the principal contemporary residue of the Romantic speculative
gesture.
2. ROMANTICISM CONTINUES TO BE THE SITE OF OUR
THINKING TODAY, AND THIS CONTINUATION RENDERS
THE THEME OF THE DEATH OF GOD INEFFECTUAL
The question of mathematics and of its localization by philosophy has
the merit of giving us profound insight into the nature of our times.
Beyond the more vain than heroic assertions of irreducible modernity
and a novelty still needing to be thought, and so on, the persistence of
the disjunction between mathematics and philosophy indicates to us
that the historicist kernel of romanticism continues to be the referential
site of our thinking. The romantic gesture still governs at the very point
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98
where the Innite is still detained in its function of opening (ouverture)
and in its horizontal structure with regard to the historicity of nitude.
Our modernity is romantic in that it is still bound up in a temporal iden-
tication of the concept. As a result, mathematics can only be repre-
sented as a condition of philosophy from within a radically disjunctive
gesture, one that persists in opposing the historical life of the concept
and thought to the formal and empty eternity of mathematics.
Basically, an examination of their respective statuses in Plato shows
that, from Romanticism on, poetry and mathematics have exchanged
their places as conditions. Plato sought to banish the poets and forbid
entry to anyone that was not a geometer. Today it is the poem that forms
the core of the philosophical disposition and the matheme is excluded.
So, although philosophers receive it in its scientic or technical aspect,
contemporary mathematics has been left to languish in exile. It is viewed
either as no more than a grammatical vacuity for the language exercises
of sophists or as a morose speciality of obdurate epistemologists. Yet
seemingly since Nietzsche but actually since Hegel the aura of the poem
continues to sparkle with all its brilliance. Nothing illuminates modern
philosophys fundamental anti-Platonism more vividly than this sym-
metrical reversal of the Platonic system of conditions for philosophy.
And as such we might say that the question of postmodernism is not
our chief question. Instead, there have been two modern epochs, one
classic, the other romantic, and the question we must tackle is rather one
of post-romanticism. How do we leave romanticism behind other than
via a neo-classical reaction? That is the true problem, and it becomes
even more real when we observe that, behind the theme of the end of
the avant-gardes, the postmodern alternative merely amounts to a clas-
sico-romantic eclecticism. The only royal way I know of to arrive at a
more authentic formulation of the problem is to examine the link
between mathematics and philosophy. It is from this point of attack that
we accede straight to the heart of the matter, and this concerns the
critique of nitude.
Ever since the collapse of Marxist politics and the ensuing spectacle
itself also quite romantic of growing collusion between philosophy
or what stands in its stead and religions of all sorts, the urgency for a
such critique has only risen. Can we really be surprised at so-and-sos
Rabbinic Judaism, or so-and-sos conversion to Islam, or anothers thinly
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
99
veiled Christian devotion when nothing is said that does not boil down
to this: that we are consigned to nitude and essentially mortal?
As always, to crush the infamy of superstition, it is necessary to summon
the solid secular eternity of the sciences. But how is this to be done
within philosophy if all we are left with after the disentwining of mathe-
matics and philosophy to spice up the mortality of our being is the Sacred
and Presence?
The truth is that this disentwining renders the Nietzschean proclama-
tion of the death of God ineffectual. Atheists, we lack the wherewithal to
be so, so long as the theme of nitude governs our thinking.
In the deployment of its Romantic gure, the innite becomes the
Open for the temporalization of nitude and, because it is in thrall to
History, it remains in thrall to the One. So long as the nite remains the
ultimate determination of being-there, God remains. God remains as
that whose disappearance continues to govern us under the form of the
abandonment, the dereliction or the releasement of Being.
Thus, a very tenacious and profound link exists between the disentwin-
ing of mathematics and philosophy, and the preservation, under the
inverted or diverted form of nitude, of an inappropriable or unnameable
horizon of immortal divinity. Only a God can save us said Heidegger
courageously, but those who lack his courage still entertain a relation to
a tacit God in the default of being that, with mathematics deposed, is
opened by our being made coextensive with time.
Descartes was more of an atheist than we are, because he was not
missing eternity. Little by little, generalized historicism is smothering us
with a disgusting layer of sanctication.
If not in its proclamation, then at least in its effectualness, the contem-
porary quandary about the notion of the death of God must be referred
to the fact that philosophys abandoning of the mathematical thought of
the innite delivers the latter, in the medium of History, unto a new ava-
tar of the One.
The only way to situate ourselves within a radical desecration is
to return innity to a neutral banality, to inscribe eternity uniquely
in the matheme, and to abandon conjointly historicism and nitude. The
nite, still beholden to ethical aura, grasped in the pathos of mortal-
being, ought today be thought of simply as the differential clause of a
truth in the banal fabric of the innite.
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100
The current requisite for a desecration of thought we see on a daily
basis how long we have to go resides in a complete dismantling of the
historicist schema. The innite must be submitted to the simple and
transparent deductive chains of the matheme, subtracted from the juris-
diction of the One, stripped of all correlation with the horizon of nitude
and released from the metaphorics of the Open.
And it is at this extreme point of thought that we are summoned by
mathematics. We are enjoined to forge a new modality of entwining
mathematics and philosophy, a modality by which the romantic gesture
that governs us to this day will be terminated.
Mathematics has, under its own steam, arrived at a deployment of
the theme of the innite in the austere gure of the indifferent multiple.
Three features the innites indifferentiation, its post-Cantorian treat-
ment as a simple number and the pluralization of its concept (there are
an innity of different innities) have all combined to render the
innite banal, to terminate the pregnancy of nitude and to make possi-
ble the assumption that every situation (ourselves included) is innite.
This evental capacity of mathematical thinking obliges us nally to con-
nect it together with the philosophical proposition.
This is the sense in which I have spoken of todays philosophical
programme as being a Platonism of the multiple.
Platonism is intended as a provocation or a banner by which to
proclaim the closure of the Romantic gesture, that is, the current neces-
sity of once again saying, Let no one enter who is not a geometer, that
is, when the situation is such that the non-geometer is still being schooled
in this romantic disjunction and the pathos of nitude.
Multiple signies the referral of the innite to the indifferent multiple,
to the pure matter of Being.
The conjunction of these two terms announces the effectiveness
of Gods death in the absence of any dereliction, the unbinding of the
innite and the One, the end of historicism and the regaining, within
time, of an Eternity that has no need of consecration.
Before launching such a programme, it is necessary to look back over
the history of the question. I will punctuate this history at the two
extremities of its arch: at one end there is Plato, who sends the poem
into exile and promotes the matheme; and at the other stands Hegel, the
inventor of the romantic gesture in philosophy, the thinker of mathe-
matics abasement.
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
101
3. PROCEEDING PHILOSOPHICALLY, PLATO ESTABLISHED
MATHEMATICS AT THE FRONTIER BETWEEN
THOUGHT AND THE FREEDOM OF THOUGHT
The gure who has most clearly deployed a fundamental entwining
of philosophy and mathematics in all its ramications was Plato. He
produced a matrix for conditioning where the three modalities of the
relationship between mathematics and philosophy with which I began
are contained in virtual form.
The main reference source for this is the celebrated text of Book VI
of the Republic. As this text speaks of the relationship between mathe-
matics and philosophy it may be thought of as canonical for the question
at hand.
I have provided an extract of it here. In this passage Socrates asks
his interlocutor, Glaucon, if he has clearly understood the preceding dis-
cussion, and, in order to verify it, he requests a summary. After having,
as is customary, said how difcult it all is, that he is not certain to have
properly understood and so on, Glaucon complies, and his summary
meets the masters approval. Here is the synopsis:
The theorizing concerning being and the intelligible which is sus-
tained by the science [pistm] of the dialectic is clearer than that sus-
tained by what are known as the sciences [techn]. It is certainly the
case that those who theorize according to the sciences, which have
hypotheses as their principles, are obliged to proceed discursively
rather than empirically. But because their intuiting remains depen-
dent on these hypotheses and has no means of accessing the principle,
they do not seem to you to possess the intellection of what they theo-
rize, which nevertheless, insofar as it is illuminated by the principle,
concerns the intelligibility of the entity. It seems to me you character-
ize the procedures of geometers and their ilk as discursive [dianoia],
which is not how you characterize intellection. This discursiveness
lies midway between [metaxu] opinion [doxa] and intellect [nous].
2
What is of signicance for us in this text is the relationship of conjunc-
tion/disjunction between mathematics and philosophy. So, I will pro-
ceed by identifying the fundamental features that, as it were, unfold the
matrix of every thinkable correlation between these two dispositions of
thought.
CONDITIONS
102
1. For Plato, mathematics is a condition of thinking, or of theorizing
in general, for the very reason that it constitutes a point of rupture with
the doxa, with opinion. This is well-known. But what commands our
attention here is the fact that mathematics is the only point of rupture with
doxa that is given as existent or constituted. The absolute singularity of math-
ematics is basically its existence. Apart from mathematics, everything
that exists remains under the sway of opinion. So the independent,
effective, historical existence yielded the following paradigm: it is possible
to break with opinion.
For Plato there is also, of course, a superior form of rupture with doxa
that he called dialectical conversion. But dialectical conversion, which
constitutes the essence of the philosophical disposition, cannot be said by
anyone to exist. It sustains itself not as an existence but as a proposition
or project. Dialectics is a programme or an initiation, while mathematics
is a procedure that is existent and available. Dialectical conversion is the
(possible) point at which the Platonic text touches the real. In the form
of the already-there, mathematics and it alone constitutes the only point
of external support for breaking with doxa.
Now, the singularity of mathematics does not, and cannot, fail to
provoke opinion, that is, the reign of doxa. Hence the reason for the
continual campaigns against the abstraction of mathematics, against its
inhumanity. Mathematics constitutes a permanent form of recourse for
anyone looking for a real, given point of support on which to base a
thinking that breaks with all forms of opinion. The singularity of mathe-
matics is therefore in essence consensual, since everyone acknowledges
that there is not, that there cannot be, any sort of mathematical opinion
(which does not rule out, on the contrary, there from being generally
depreciative opinions about mathematics). Mathematics displays this
is also its aristocratic aspect an irremediable discontinuity with all the
immediacy of doxa.
Conversely, it is legitimate to claim that any negative opinion
about mathematics, whether masked or overt, is a defence of the rights
of opinion, a plea for the immediate sovereignty of doxa. In my view
romanticism is no exception to this. Its historicism is inevitably led to
erect the opinions of an era into the truth of that era. And its temporaliz-
ing of the concept immerses the latter in the immediacy of historic-
ized representations. If the romantic project implies the destitution of
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
103
mathematics, then, it is because one of its facets involves rendering
philosophy homogeneous to the historical power of opinions. Construed as
conceptual capture of the spirit of the times, philosophy is unable to
encompass any a-temporal break with the regime of established
discourses.
By contrast, what Plato prized in mathematics is precisely its capacity
to effectuate a real break with the circulating immediacy of doxa.
2. After praising mathematics, Plato came to his quibbles. What he
undertook to explain to us was that, as radical as the break with opinion
may appear, the limitation of mathematics is that it is a forced break.
Those who practise these sciences are forced to proceed according to
the intelligible, and not the sensible or doxa. They are forced: this implies
that the break with opinion is in a certain fashion involuntary, unappar-
ent to itself, and above all lacking in freedom.
That mathematics is a hypothetical discipline, that it makes use of
axioms it cannot legitimate is the outward sign of what one could call its
forced commandeering by the intelligible. The mathematical break is
carried out under the constraint of deductive chains that themselves
depend upon a xed point specied in authoritarian fashion.
There is, in the Platonic conception of mathematics, something indis-
tinctly violent, something that sets it in opposition to the contemplative
serenity of the dialectic. Mathematics does not establish thought in its
proper disposition of sovereign liberty. Plato thought, or experimented,
as I do, with the possibility that every break with opinion, every found-
ing discontinuity of thought can, and doubtless must, have recourse to
mathematics, but also that this recourse also has something violent and
opaque about it.
The philosophical localizing of mathematics conjoins the permanent
paradigmatic availability of a discontinuity, an establishing of thought
outside of opinion, and a constrained obscurity that cannot be appropri-
ated or elucidated from within mathematics itself.
3. Since this mathematical break which has the advantage of ground-
ing its support in an historical real (there are mathematical statements
and mathematicians) comes with the drawback of being obscure
and forced, the elucidation of this break with opinion requires a second
break. For Plato, this second rupture, which traverses the ineluctable
opacity of the rst, is constituted by access to the principle, the name
CONDITIONS
104
of which is dialectics. In Platos theoretical apparatus, we are thereby
led to an opposition between hypothesis (that which is presupposed
or assumed in an authoritarian gesture) and principle (that which is at
once originary or a commencement and an elucidating authority or
commandment).
Finally, dialectics or philosophy consists in the light shed on the
opacity of the rst break by a second break whose point of contact
with the real is mathematics. If we can succeed in illuminating the
hypothesis by the principle, then we shall come, including in mathematics
itself, to enjoy thoughts freedom or mobility with regard to its own
break with opinion.
So, even though mathematics actually concentrates the discontinuity
with doxa, only philosophy can orient thought according to the principle
of this discontinuity. Philosophy lifts the violence of the mathematical
break. It founds a peace of the discontinuous.
4. Mathematics is consequently metaxu: its topology, the site of its
thought situates it in an intermediary position. This theme will prove
hugely inuential throughout classical philosophy (which preserves the
Platonic entwining of philosophy and mathematics). Mathematics will
be regarded as simultaneously eminent (through its given capacity to
break with the immediacy of opinions) and insufcient (thanks to the
constrictive character imposed on it by its obscure violence). Mathemat-
ics is here a truth that fails to achieve the form of wisdom.
In a rst approximation, and this is what is usually retained, mathe-
matics is a metaxu because it breaks with opinion without reaching the
serenity of the principle. In this sense, mathematics is situated between
opinion and intellection, or between the immediacy of doxa and the
unconditioned (i.e., the principle) of the dialectic. More fundamentally,
perhaps, mathematics is said to be an in-between in thought itself, to be
that which plots a gap situated beyond even the rupture with opinion.
This gap is one that separates the general requirement of discontinuity
from the elucidation of this requirement.
It is certain that every elucidation of a discontinuity serves to establish
the idea of a continuity. If mathematics is animated by an obscure
violence, this is because, with regard to opinion, its sole virtue is its
discontinuity. Dialectics, which grasps intelligibility in its entirety, and
not only the discontinuous edge that separates it from the sensible,
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
105
integrates mathematics within a superior continuity. The position of
mathematics as metaxu is, in a certain sense, the in-between for the
thinking of the discontinuous and the continuous. Mathematics emerges
at the point where what demands to be thought is, on the one hand, the
relation between that which is violently discontinuous within thought as
such, and, on the other, the sovereign freedom that elucidates and incor-
porates this very violence.
Mathematics is the in-between of the truth and the freedom of truth
Mathematics is the truth as still beholden to an unfreedom required by
the violent gesture of repudiating the immediate. It belongs to truth, but
to a still constrained gure of truth. Above and beyond this constrained
gure of truth is the free gure that elucidates the discontinuity, and that
is philosophy.
Mathematics insertion at the precise point at which the truth and
freedom of truth enter into relation will historically determine the
entwining of philosophy and mathematics for centuries to come.
Mathematics has paradigmatic value because it cannot submit anything
to the regime of opinion. But the impossibility of this insubordination
also means that mathematics is unable to shed any light on its own
paradigmatic value. That it falls to philosophy to ground mathematics
always means: philosophy has to name and think the paradigmatic
nature of the paradigm, to establish, at the moment of discontinuity, the
illumination of the continuous, when what mathematics disposes is only
a stubborn blindness in not being able to propose anything else than the
intelligible and the break.
Within this perspective, classical philosophy will continuously oscillate
between the recognition of mathematics salutary function as to the des-
tiny of truth (this is the ontological mode of conditioning) and the obli-
gation of grounding the essence of this function elsewhere, that is, in
philosophy (this is the epistemological mode). This oscillations centre of
gravity can be stated as follows: mathematics is too violently true to be
free, or it is too violently free (that is to say, discontinuous) to be abso-
lutely true.
Plato initiated this apparatus. The difculty of the matter is that Hegel
seems not to have said anything different.
CONDITIONS
106
4. HEGEL DEPOSED MATHEMATICS BECAUSE
HE INITIATED A RIVALRY BETWEEN IT AND
PHILOSOPHY WITH REGARD TO THE SAME CONCEPT,
THE INFINITE
Hegel discusses the relationship between philosophy and mathematics
in the massive Remark that follows the account of the innity of the
quantum in The Science of Logic, and he does so in a detailed and techni-
cally informed manner. Although Hegels conceptual technique is far
removed from Platos, a look at some passages immediately sufces to
show that the oscillation set in motion by the Greek thinker (mathemat-
ics engenders a break, but does not clarify this break) continues to govern
Hegels text:
But in a philosophical perspective the mathematical innite is impor-
tant because underlying it, in fact, is the notion of the genuine innite
and it is far superior to the ordinary so-called metaphysical innite on
which are based the objections to the mathematical innite . . .
It is worthwhile considering more closely the mathematical concept
of the innite together with the most noteworthy of the attempts
aimed at justifying its use and eliminating the difculty with
which the method feels itself burdened. The consideration of
these justications and characteristics of the mathematical innite
which I shall undertake at some length in this Remark will at the
same time throw the best light on the nature of the true Notion itself
and show how this latter was vaguely present as a basis for those
procedures.
3
The four features we identied in Platos text are basically all to be
found in Hegels analytical programme.
1. The mathematical concept of the innite was historically decisive in
the break with the ordinary metaphysical concept. As for Hegel every
rupture consists in a sublation or an overcoming (Aufhebung), he means
to tell us that the mathematical concept of the innite effectively sub-
lates the metaphysical concept, that is to say, the concept pertaining to
dogmatic theology.
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
107
It is in any case entirely legitimate to consider metaphysical as
pointing to a zone of opinion within philosophy itself, that is, to a doxa that
Hegel declared to be untrue (it does not have the true concept of innity).
Similarly to Plato, mathematics for Hegel positively breaks with the
untrue concept of dogmatic opinion. Mathematics constitutes the effec-
tiveness of a break-overcoming on the question of the innite.
2. But this break is blind; it is not illuminated by its own operation.
At the start of his Remark, Hegel said:
The mathematical innite has a twofold interest. On the one hand, its
introduction into mathematics has led to an expansion of the science
and to important results; but on the other hand it is remarkable that
mathematics has not yet succeeded in justifying its use of this innite
by the Notion . . .
4
This is the Platonic theme to a tee: in its success, in its great results, we
can recognize mathematics force of existence, the fully deployed availa-
bility of a break. But this success is immediately counter-balanced by an
absence of justication and so by an essential obscurity.
As Hegel put it a little later on in the text: Success does not justify by
itself the style of procedure.
5
The existence of a mathematics of the in-
nite has all the real force of a genuine success. All the same, there is an
issue that is higher than that of success, which is that of the style of the
procedure used to achieve it. Only philosophy is in a position to illumi-
nate this procedure. But the dialectic in Platos sense, was it not already
a question of style? Of the style of thinking?
3. We can therefore be assured that, just as for Plato access to the prin-
ciple, which requires the dialectical style, must dispel the violent usage
of hypotheses, so also for Hegel a veritable concept of innity must sub-
late and ground the mathematical concept, which is armed solely by its
success.
4. Finally, as regards the concept of the innite, mathematics is in an
intermediary or mediating position; it is metaxu.
On the one hand, mathematics provides the paradigm for this con-
cept because it throws the best light on the nature of the true
Notion itself.
But, on the other hand, it is still necessary to justify its use and
eliminate its difculties because mathematics is unable to do so
CONDITIONS
108
itself. Philosophy thus takes on its traditional function as a sort of
mechanic of mathematics: mathematics works but unaware of
why it works it must be dismantled and taken in for an overhaul.
It is almost certain that the engine will need replacing. This is
because mathematics is situated between the metaphysical or dog-
matic concept of the innite, determined by modernity as a simply
concept of opinion, and the true concept, the thought of which
only the dialectic (in the Hegelian sense) can establish.
But if the four characteristics that singularize the couple mathematics/
philosophy in Plato are to be found in Hegel, then what changes? Why
does the effect of the Hegelian text, which founds the technic of the
romantic gesture of disentwining, of a philosophical abasement of math-
ematics, run counter to that of the Platonic text, which for centuries had
guaranteed its paradigmatic value? How is it, then, that this great Remark,
which is at once attentive and documentary, that is, which is still informed
(there is a learnedness here that Heidegger and Nietzsche felt they could
forgo), effectively gives mathematics its notice, and does not yield any
new positive form of its entwining with philosophy? Why do we feel or
know that after Hegel and his meticulousness the romantic submerging
of our era in the temporalization of the concept will leave mathematics
to its own specialization?
Well, what has changed is that, for Hegel, the centre of gravity of math-
ematics, the reason for which it merits philosophical examination, cannot
be represented as a domain of objects, but as a concept, the concept of the
innite.
For Plato, mathematics means geometry and arithmetic, the objects of
which are numbers and gures. This is why, to designate these types of
thought, these sciences, Plato could use the word techn, that is, exercises
of thought that have a determinate object. Because the eld of its exer-
cise is singular, the break with opinion is localizable.
For Hegel, mathematics is not acknowledged as the singular thinking
of a domain of objects, but as the determination of a concept, and even,
one could say, as the determination of the romantic concept par excellence,
the innite.
The effects of this apparently innocent displacement are incalculable.
Because of its objectal restraint, of its having to do with gures and
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
109
numbers, and not with a generic concept without object, mathematics
was for Plato an always singular gure of thought, a particular domain
or procedure, which as such did not rival with the complete ambitions of
philosophy.
Hegel, on the other hand, in positing that the paradigmatic essence of
mathematics is linked to one of philosophys central concepts (the concept
of the innite), is constrained to set up, not an always singular entwining,
but a rivalry between philosophy and mathematics before the tribunal of
the True. And as the true concept of the innite is the philosophical con-
cept, and as this concept contains and grounds whatever is acceptable in
its mathematical counterpart, philosophy ultimately proclaims that the
mathematical concept is useless for thought.
True, classical thinkers were inclined to say that mathematics was a
partly useless activity, since it dealt with objects, such as gures, that did
not have much worth. But this depreciation, which operated indirectly
through an evaluation of the singular objects of mathematics, did not call
into question the extent of the mathematical break with opinion. It
merely indicated its local character. The uselessness of mathematics was
relative, since, once mathematical thought was established within the
narrow realm of objects in question, it remained absolutely true that the
break with doxa had paradigmatic worth.
Hegel turned a judgement of mathematics uselessness into an instrinsic
one. For, once we are instructed by philosophy in the true concept of the
innite, it becomes clear that the mathematical concept is only a futile
and crude approximation. This is the price to pay for temporalizing the
concept: all that is to be traversed and sublated from then on becomes
dead to thought. For Plato, on the other hand, mathematics and dialectics
are two juxtaposable, albeit hierarchized, relations in an eternal congu-
ration of Being.
If romantic philosophy after Hegel succeeded in radically disentwining
mathematics and philosophy, it is because it declared that philosophy
and mathematics deal with the same thing. The romantic gesture is not
based on a differentiation, but on an identication. Hegelian philosophy,
in the medium of the concept of the innite, has the pretensions of being
a superior mathematics, that is to say, a mathematics that has sublated,
exceeded and abandoned its own restrained mathematicity and pro-
duced the ultimate philosophemes of its concept (of innity).
CONDITIONS
110
5. THE RE-ENTWINING OF MATHEMATICS AND
PHILOSOPHY AIMS AT A DISSOLUTION OF THE
ROMANTIC CONCEPT OF FINITUDE AND AT
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF AN
EVENTAL PHILOSOPHY OF TRUTH
Ultimately, it may be said that what is at stake in the complete disjunc-
tion, as instituted by the romantic gesture, between philosophy and
mathematics is the localization of the innite.
Romantic philosophy localizes the innite in the temporalization of
the concept qua historical envelopment of nitude.
At the same time, mathematics followed a parallel but separate and
neglected career, in which it came to localize innities in the indifference
of the pure multiple. It came to deal with the actual innite in the banal-
ity of the cardinal number. It neutralized and wholly deconsecrated the
innite, subtracting it from every metaphor of tendency, of becoming,
and of horizon, and wrested it from the reign of the One to disseminate
it whether in the innitely large or in the innitely small in a typol-
ogy of multiplicities that is free of any aura. By inaugurating a thinking
in which the innite is irreversibly separated from every instance of the
One, mathematics has in its own eld successfully accomplished the pro-
gramme of the death of God.
The concept of the nite is then treated by mathematics as a particular
case that is derived from the innite. The innite thereby ceases to be a
sacred exception that orchestrates an excess over the nite, a negation, a
sublation of nitude. For contemporary mathematics, the innite is
instead that which, representing the ordinary form of multiplicities,
admits of a simple and positive denition, while the nite is that which
derives from the latter by means of negation or limitation. If philosophy
is held under the condition of such a mathematics, it becomes impossible
to maintain a discourse of nitude. Just like every multiple situation, we
are innite, and the nite a lacunary abstraction. Death itself only inscribes
us in the natural form of innite being-multiple, that of the limit ordinal,
which phrases the sum of our innity in a pure, external dying.
Such, then, is the current standing of things. On the one hand, there is
the ethical pathos of the nite, placed under the sign of death, which pre-
supposes the innite through temporalization and is unable to free itself
of representations that are sacred, precarious and defensive with regard
PHILOSOPHY AND MATHEMATICS
111
to promises of the coming of a God who will cauterize the indifferent
wound that the world inicts on the Romantic trembling of the Open.
And, on the other, an ontology of indifferent multiplicity that can with-
stand the disjunction and abasement brought about by Hegel; one that
secularizes and disperses the innite, that grasps us humans in terms of
this dispersion and that advances the prospect of a world evacuated of
every tutelary gure of the One.
This gap forms the scene of our question: how to nd a way out of
Romanticism and attain a real post-Romanticism, to disperse the theme
of nitude, and to gain rigorous acceptance of the innity of every situa-
tion? The re-entwining of mathematics within philosophy is the neces-
sary operation for anyone who wants to have done with the power of
myths, of any and every myth, such as the myth of errancy and of the
Law, and the myth of the Immemorial, not to mention the myth since,
as Hegel would have said, it is the style of procedure that counts of the
painful absence of myths.
To practise in thought a decisive rupture with romanticism (and the
issue here is also political, since in revolutionary politics an historicist,
and therefore romantic, element existed), we cannot do without any
recourse which is perhaps once again blind, or stamped with constraint,
or violence to the injunctions of mathematics. We philosophers, whose
duty is to think this era beyond that which has devastated it, we must
submit to its condition.
As the reader will have surmised, the terms of the proposition by which
I am suggesting we re-entwine mathematics and philosophy cannot be
characterized by the caution proper to the epistemological modality. It is
of crucial importance to cut straight to the ontological destiny of mathe-
matics. So, my proposition asserts at the outset: there is only the innite
multiple, which presents the innite multiple, and the unique stopping
point of this presentation presents nothing. Ultimately at issue is the
void, and not the One. God is dead, at the heart of the presentation.
But, as mathematics has clearly had a centurys head start in its secu-
larizing of the innite, as the only thought available of multiplicity as
innitely weaving the void of its own inconsistency is the one that math-
ematics, after Cantor, claims as its specic site, I shall make the provoca-
tive and therapeutic claim that mathematics is ontology, and in the strict
sense, which is to say that mathematics is the innite development of
what can be said of being qua being.
CONDITIONS
112
Finally, if, in order to traverse and have done with historicism, the
Heideggerian historial framework included, we must side with Cantor
and Dedekind on the issue of the niteinnite dialectic against Hegel; if
the statement mathematics is ontology is the contemporary way to put
philosophy under the condition of mathematics, then our question
becomes: what is the status of truth?
Will it consist in a dialectic, as it did for Plato and Hegel? Will there be
(but this can no longer be a matter for ontology) a superior, founding,
illuminating mode of intellection, one appropriate to the brutality of
such a break? Is there anything that supplements the multiple indifference
of being? All these questions belong to another order; they are questions
that will drive the continuation of philosophy, and bring it to prevail
over the morose theme of its end into which it is forced by the exhausted
romanticism involved in the thematic of nitude. Subject to its mathe-
matical condition, the core of such philosophical propositions will consist
in structuring truths around evental localizations, and in subtracting
them from the sophistic tyranny of language.
However we look at it, we are called upon to bring historicism to a
close and dispel all the myths engendered by temporalizing the concept.
To achieve this, we cannot do without recourse to the courageous, soli-
tary existence of the concept, since, in deposing all sacredness and the
absence of every God, mathematics is nothing other than the human
history of eternity.
113
CHAPTER EIGHT
On Subtraction
Invited here before you for whom silence and speech are the chief
concerns to honour that which subtracts itself from their alternation, it
is to Mallarm that I turn to shelter my solitude.
So, by way of an epigraph to my address, I have chosen this fragment
from the fourth scholium of Igitur:
I alone I alone am going to know the void. You, you return to your
amalgam.
I proffer speech, the better to re-immerse it in its own inanity . . .
This, no doubt, constitutes an act it is my duty to proclaim it: this
madness exists.
You were right to manifest it: do not think I am going to re-immerse
you in the void.
Concerning the compactness of your amalgam, I have come here with
the duty of proclaiming that the madness of subtraction constitutes an
act. Better: that it is the act par excellence, the act of a truth, one by which
I come to know the only thing that one may ever know in the element
of the real, and that is the void of being as such.
If speech, via an act of truth, is plunged back into its inanity, do not
think it will plunge you back into it, you who hold the reason behind
what is manifest. Quite to the contrary, we shall grant each other I in
the duty to speak, you in the duty to render my speech manifest that
the folly of the act of a truth exists.
CONDITIONS
114
Nothing can be granted existence I mean the kind of existence that a
truth presupposes at its origin without being put to the test of its
subtraction.
To subtract is not straightforward. Sub-traction, that which draws
under, is too often conated with ex-traction, that which draws from or
forth, that which mines and yields the coal of knowledge.
Subtraction is plural. Allegations about its lack of effect, or causality,
work to dissimulate operations that are irreducible to one another.
These operations are four in number: the undecidable, the indiscern-
ible, the generic and the unnameable. These are the four generic gures
that form the cross of being whenever it enters the trajectory, or comes
across the obstacle, of a truth. Of a truth whereof it would be too much
to say it is half-said (mi-dite), since, as we shall see, it is rarely said, not to
mention almost never said, traversed as it is by the incommensurable
unbinding between its own innity and the nitude of forms of knowl-
edge it makes holes in.
Let us start with pure formalism.
Take any norm for evaluating statements in a given situation of lan-
guage. The most common of these norms is the distinction between
veridical and erroneous statements. Were this language rigorously
divided we could take the distinction between provable and falsiable
statements as another norm. But all that matters here is that such a norm
exists. Thus, any statement that subtracts itself from the norm we can
call undecidable. That is, an undecidable is a statement that cannot be
inscribed in any of the classes into which the norm of evaluation is sup-
posed to be able to distribute all possible statements.
The undecidable is therefore that which is subtracted from a suppos-
edly exhaustive classication of statements realized according to a norm
that allots statements values. The undecidable statement cannot be
ascribed any value, although the norm of attribution only exists on the
assumption of its complete efcacy. The undecidable statement is prop-
erly valueless, but that is the price that enables it to contravene the laws
prescribed by a classical economy.
Gdels theorem shows that in the language situation known as rst-
order formalized arithmetic in which the norm of evaluation is that a
given thing has to be proved, there exists at least one statement that is
undecidable in a precise sense: neither it nor its negation can be proved.
ON SUBTRACTION
115
Formalized arithmetic therefore does not come within a classical econ-
omy of statements.
For a long time, the undecidability of Gdels statement was seen as
having the form of the liars paradox, of a statement that proclaims its own
indemonstrability; or a statement subtracted from the norm simply
because it states that it is negatively affected by it. Today, we know that the
link between undecidability and paradox is contingent. In 1977, Jeff Paris
showed that there was an undecidable statement that he claimed was in
no way paradoxical, but, and I quote him, a reasonably natural theorem
of a nite combinatorial. The subtraction involved here comprises an
intrinsic operation, and is not the consequence of the paradoxical struc-
ture of a statement with respect to the norm from which it is subtracted.
Now, lets take, as before, a language situation in which there exists a
norm for evaluating statements. Given any two presented terms, lets say
a
1
and a
2
, consider expressions of that language with two placeholders,
such as x is bigger than y; for example, expressions of the kind F(x,y).
When the value of the statement F(a
1
,a
2
) differs from the value of the
statement F(a
2
,a
1
) we can say that the formula discerns the terms a
1
and a
2
.
If, for example, a
1
is actually bigger than a
2
, the expression x is bigger
than y discerns a
1
and a
2
, since the value of statement a
1
is bigger than a
2
is true, while the value of the statement a
2
is bigger than a
1
is false.
You can see that a formula discerns two terms if, by exchanging their
places, that is, if, by the permutation of terms in the expression, the
value of the statement changes.
Two terms are indiscernible, then, if, in the language situation in ques-
tion, no formula exists with which to discern the two terms. So, in a
hypothetical language reduced to the single expression x is bigger than
y, if each of the terms a
1
and a
2
are equal, they are indiscernible. For,
clearly, the expression a
1
is bigger than a
2
is false, and so too is the
expression a
2
is bigger than a
1
.
Two given terms, then, are said to be indiscernible with regard to a
language situation if no two-place formula in the language exists that
can mark their difference through a permutation of terms that changes
the value of the statement originally obtained by inscribing them in the
places prescribed.
The indiscernible is something that is subtracted from the marking of
difference through evaluating the effects of permutation. Two terms are
CONDITIONS
116
indiscernible when you permute them to no effect. These two terms
are two only in the pure presentation of their being. Nothing in language
can ascribe their duality any differential value. They are two, to be sure,
but not such that one could re-mark that they are. The indiscernible thus
subtracts difference as such from any remarking (remarque). The indis-
cernible subtracts the two from duality.
In algebra the question of the indiscernible was encountered very early
on thanks to the work of Lagrange. Let us then take as our language
polynomials with several variables and rational coefcients. Next, we
shall x the norm of evaluation: thus, if, when determinate real num-
bers are substituted for the variables, the polynomial cancels itself out,
the value can be said to be V
1
. If the polynomial does not cancel itself out,
the value is V
2
.
Under these conditions, any polynomial with two variables, P(x,y),
clearly constitutes a discerning expression. It is then easy to demonstrate,
for example, that the two real numbers +2 and 2 are indiscernible: since
for any polynomial P(x,y), the value of P(+2,2) is the same as the value
of the polynomial P(2,+2): both the rst polynomial when x takes the
value +2 and y 2 and the second in which x takes the value 2 and
y + 2 cancel themselves out. The principle of differential evaluation,
then, fails for every permutation of the two numbers +2 and 2.
Little wonder, then, that it was by studying permutation groups that
Galois came to develop the theoretical space in which the problem of
resolving equations by means of radicals rst took on meaning. In fact,
Galois invention amounts to a calculus of the indiscernible. This point
carries some far-reaching conceptual consequences that are to be deployed
in a forthcoming book by a contemporary thinker and mathematician
Ren Guitart, who does so, it should be noted, using several Lacanian
categories.
From this, we can deduce that while the undecidable is subtraction
from a norm, the indiscernible is subtraction from a mark.
Now, take a language situation for which there is always a norm of
evaluation. And take a xed set of terms, or of objects, lets call it U. We
shall call U a universe for the language situation. Lets take an object
from U, which well call a
1
. And lets take a single-place expression of
that language, for instance F(x). If in the place marked by x you put the
object a
1
you obtain a statement F(a
1
) to which the norm will ascribe a
certain value, that is, true or false, or any other value determined by a
ON SUBTRACTION
117
principle of evaluation. For example, let a
2
be a xed object in the universe
U. Now, suppose our language situation allows for the expression x is
bigger than a
2
. If a
1
is actually bigger than a
2
, we obtain the value true
for the statement a
1
is bigger than a
2
the statement in which a
1
has
come to occupy the place marked by x.
Lets imagine now that we take all the terms in U that are bigger than a
2
.
We thereby obtain a subset of U. This is the subset of all the objects a
that, when substituted for x, give the value true to the statement a is
bigger than a
2
. We shall say that a subset is constructed in the universe
U by the formula x is bigger than a
2
.
Generally, we shall say that a subset of the universe U is constructed by
a formula F(x) if this subset is exclusively composed of all the terms a of
U that, when substituted for x, give the statement F(a) a value xed in
advance. That is, all the terms that are such that the formula F(a) is
evaluated in the same way.
A subset of the universe U will be called constructible if in the language
there exists a formula F(x) that constructs it.
The generic is, then, a subset of U that is not constructible. No formula
F(x) of the language can be evaluated in the same way by the terms that
compose a generic subset. You will see that a generic subset is subtracted
from any identication by the predicates of the language. No one pred-
icative trait can group the terms that make it up.
Observe that this means that for every formula F(x), there are terms
of the generic set that, substituted for x, yield a statement having a
certain value, and that there exist other terms of the same set that,
substituted for x, yield a statement having a different value. The generic
subset is such that, precisely, for every formula F(x) it is subtracted
from the construction and selection authorized by that formula in the
universe U. The generic subset contains, so to say, a bit of everything,
such that no predicate can ever group all the terms. The generic subset
is subtracted from predication by excess. Its multifariousness and predica-
tive superabundance mean that there is nothing gathering it together
that depends upon the power of a state or the identity of its evaluation.
Language fails to construct its contour or gathering. The generic subset
is a pure multiple of the universe; it is evasive and indenable by any
linguistic construction at all. It indicates that the power of being of the
multiple exceeds that which such constructions are capable of xing
according to the unity of an evaluation. The generic is exactly that
CONDITIONS
118
instance of multiple-being that is subtracted from the power of the One
as it is contained in language.
It is easy to establish that, for every language having a relation of
equality and of disjunction, in other words for nearly every language
situation, a generic subset is necessarily innite.
For let us suppose that a generic subset is nite.
Its terms would then compose a nite list, for instance, a
1
, a
2
, and so on
until a
n
.
Consider then the formula x = a
1
or x = a
2
, etc., up to x = a
n
. This is a
formula of the type F(x), since the terms a
1
, a
2
,and so on are xed terms,
which therefore do not indicate any empty place. It is clear that the set
made up of a
1
, a
2
. . . a
n
is constructed by this formula, since only these
terms can validate an equality of the type x
3
= a
j
where j goes from 1 to n.
Being thus constructible, a nite set cannot be generic.
The generic is therefore a subtraction from the predicative construc-
tions of a language authorized, in the Universe, by its own innity. The
generic is, at bottom, the superabundance of being such as it evades the
hold of language, when an excess of determinations brings about an
effect of indetermination.
The proof there exist in very robust language situations, such as that of
set theory, Universes in which generic multiples are presented was pro-
duced by Cohen in 1963. And since, as Lacan repeatedly stated, mathe-
matics is the science of the real, we can thus be sure that this singular
subtraction from the marking of the pure multiple by the effect of One of
the language is genuinely real.
I have said that the undecidable is a subtraction from a norm of evalu-
ation and that the indiscernible is a subtraction from the mark of a dif-
ference. Lets add that the generic is an innite subtraction from any
subsumption of the multiple within the One of the concept.
And last, lets take a language situation and its principles of evaluation.
Once again lets consider one-place formulas of the type F(x). Among the
accepted values for statements, such as, true, false, possible, and so on,
lets select one and only one and call it the value of nomination. We shall
then say that a formula F(x) names a term a
1
of the universe if that term
is the only one that, when substituted for x, gives the statement F(a
1
) the
value of nomination.
For example, lets take as our universe two terms a
1
and a
2
. Our
language allows the formula x is bigger than a
2
. Lets posit that the
ON SUBTRACTION
119
nominating value is the true value. If a
1
is actually bigger than a
2
then the
formula x is bigger than a
2
names the term a
1
. In fact, a
1
is bigger than
a
2
is, as the nominating value, true, while a
2
is bigger than a
2
is false,
which is not the nominating value. And the Universe only contains a
1
and a
2
. So, a
1
is the only term in the Universe that, substituted for x,
yields a statement having the value of nomination.
That a formula names a term means in fact that it is the schema of the
proper name of this term. The proper, as always, is dependent on the
unique. The named term is in effect unique in coming to give the for-
mula that names it the xed value of a nomination.
The unnameable will then be a term in the Universe, if it is the unique
one in the Universe not to be named by any formula.
One should be attentive here to the redoubling of the unique. A term
is named only in being the unique term that gives a formula the nomi-
nating value. A term is unnameable, then, only in being the unique term
that is subtracted from that uniqueness.
The unnameable is that which is subtracted from the proper name, and
which is alone subtracted from it. The unnameable is therefore the
proper of the proper so singular that it cannot even tolerate having a
proper name. It is so singular in its singularity that it is the only instance
not to have a proper name.
We are here bordering on paradox. For, as the only one not to have a
proper name, it appears that the unnameable falls under the name
specic to it of the anonymous. The one which has no name, is that
not the name of the unnameable? This indeed seems to be the case, since
it is the only one to perform this subtraction.
It follows from this redoubling of uniqueness that one form of unique-
ness spells the ruin of the other. It is impossible to be subtracted from the
proper name if this unique subtraction provides a support for the propri-
ety of a name.
As a result, there would seem to be no proper of the proper, that is, no
singularity of that which is subtracted from all self-doubling in the name
of its singularity.
But this is only the case so long as the formula having no proper
name is a possible formula of the language situation in which one is
operating. Or again, if the formula there exists no formula F(x) to which
the unnameable term is the only one to provide with a nominating
value can itself be a formula of the language. For only this formula about
CONDITIONS
120
the formulas can serve to name the unnameable, which thus completes
the paradox.
Yet it is generally not the case that a formula can refer to the totality of
possible formulas of the language. The not-all here presents an obstacle
to the deployment of the apparent paradox. Because, if you say there
exists no formula F(x) such that this or that you are in fact presupposing,
albeit negatively, that all of the language can be inscribed in the unity of
an expression. This would involve the language situation in a powerful
folding back on itself and form a meta-language that would only engen-
der an even more radical paradox than the one we already have.
Moreover, the mathematician Furkhen established in 1968 that the
unnameable can be consistently admitted. He presents us with a fairly
simple language situation a sort of fragment from the theory of the
arithmetical successor, plus a small morsel of set theory such as is
allowed by a model wherein one and only one term remains nameless
(sans nomination). So this gives us a model in which the unnameable
really exists, in which there exists a subtractive reduplication of unique-
ness, or of the proper of the proper.
Let us recapitulate. We have the undecidable as subtraction from the
norms of evaluation, or subtraction from the Law. We have the indis-
cernible as subtraction from the marking of difference, or subtraction
from sex. We have the generic as innite and excessive subtraction from
the concept, the pure multiple or subtraction from the One. And we
have the unnameable as subtraction from the proper name, or as singu-
larity subtracted from singularization. These are the analytic gures of
being such as it is brought forth in the failure of language to capture it.
We have now only to link topologically their dialectic. The framework
of this linkage is set out in the gamma diagram shown in Figure 8.1.
It should be clear that we are now entering into philosophy, since the
preceding section was part way between philosophy and mathematics,
and therefore between philosophy and ontology.
Let us say in passing that Lacan was given to saying that ontology is a
sort of disgrace. It is a disgrace of sense, or of the senses; I would add that
it is a culinary disgrace, a familial disgrace for philosophy, not the perfect
housewife but the disgraceful housewife. For me, however, ontology is
only another name for mathematics or, more precisely, mathematics
is the name of ontology as a language situation. I thereby evade the dis-
grace of the household and this time perform a subtraction of all ontol-
ON SUBTRACTION
121
ogy from philosophy, which is nothing more than the language situation
in which truths, in their plural procedures, are utterable as Truth, in the
singularity of its inscription (pointage).
I come now to the gamma diagram.
The gamma diagram represents the trajectory of a truth, of whatever
type. You are perhaps aware that I maintain that there exist four types of
truths: scientic, artistic, political and amorous. This diagram is philo-
sophical since it compossibilizes the types of truths through a formal con-
cept of Truth.
Notice how the four gures of subtraction are distributed according to
the register of pure multiplicity. Pure multiplicity also designates the
latent being of these acts.
The undecidable and the unnameable are related insofar as they pre-
suppose the One. In the case of the undecidable the one presupposed is
a statement, and in the case of the unnameable it is the uniqueness of
that which evades the proper name. The position of the One within each
of these subtractive effects is nevertheless not the same.
The undecidable statement, subtracted from the effect of a norm of
evaluation, lies outside the bounds of what may be inscribed, insofar as
the very possibility of inscription requires precisely falling within the
Fidelty
Infinite
Generic
Indiscernible
Subject
Finite
F
o
r
c
i
n
g
N
o
m
i
n
a
t
i
o
n
Unnameable
Un
Un
+
Undecidable
Event
Good/Evil
Truth
Figure 8.1
CONDITIONS
122
norm. Thus, Gdels statement is missing from the eld of the provable,
since neither it nor its negation can be admitted into this eld. Of this
statement we might say that it supplements the language situation
governed by the norm. I indicate this in the diagram by the plus sign
appended to the One.
The unnameable, by contrast, is embedded in the intimate depths of
the presentation. It testies to the esh of singularity, and it is thereby
something like the point-like ground (fond en forme de point) of every
order in which terms are presented. This radical underside of nomina-
tion, this folding back of the proper onto itself designates that which of
being shows the inadequacy of the principle of the One as established by
language in the naming of the proper. This weakening of the One of lan-
guage by the point-like ground [point-fond] of being I have marked by
appending a minus sign to the One.
For their part, the indiscernible and the generic are related as they
both presuppose the multiple. Indiscernibility is said of at least two terms,
since it is a difference without concept. And the generic, as we have
seen, requires the innite spreading of the terms of the Universe, since it
is the diagram of a subset subtracted from every predicative unity.
Once more, however, the kind of multiple involved is not the same in
both cases. The multiple implied by the indiscernible has at its criterion
the marked places in a formula of discernment. As every actual formula
of a language situation is nite, the multiple of the indiscernible is neces-
sarily nite. On the contrary, the generic necessitates the innite.
The gamma diagram thus superimposes the logical gures of subtrac-
tion onto a ontological distribution. There is a quadripartite division
between the one-more, the one-less, the nite and the innite. A truth
circulates within this exhaustive quadripartite structure of the givenness
of being, at the same time as its trajectory is pinned together by the
entire logic of subtraction.
Now lets go over this trajectory.
In order for the process of a truth to begin, something must happen.
It is necessary, as Mallarm would say, that it is not the case that nothing
takes place except the place. Since the place as such, or the structure,
only ever gives us repetition and the knowledge that is known or
unknown within it, that is, knowledge as it is in the nitude of its being.
The advent, the pure supplement, the incalculable and the disconcerting,
this is what I call the event. It is, to cite the poet once again, that which
ON SUBTRACTION
123
has sprung from the croup and the ight. A truth arises in its novelty
and every truth is a novelty because a hazardous supplement inter-
rupts repetition. As indistinct, a truth begins by surging forth.
But this surging forth directly sustains the undecidable. For the norm
of evaluation that governs the situation, or structure, cannot be applied
to the statement this event belongs to the situation. Were such a state-
ment decidable, the event would clearly comply in advance with the
norms of repetition, and would not be evental. There is an intrinsic
undecidability to every statement involving the nomination of an event.
And no assessment, no exhibition (monstration) can here make up for the
shortcomings of the norm. For barely has the event appeared than it has
disappeared. It is no more than the ash of a supplementation. Its empir-
ical character is that of an eclipse. That is why it will always be necessary
to say that it took place, that it was given in the situation and that this
unveriable statement, subtracted from the norm of evaluation, is a gen-
uine supplementation with regard to the eld of what language decides:
it is exactly in the one-more in which undecidability is played out.
The leap of a truth, then, involves a wager on the supplement.
It involves upholding the statement an event has taken place, which
comes to deciding the undecidable. But, of course, since the undecidable
is subtracted from the norm of evaluation, this decision is an axiom.
Nothing founds it, bar the assumed evanescence of the event. Every
truth thereby passes through the pure wager placed on what has being
only in its disappearing. The axiom of truth, which always takes the form
this has taken place, this which I can neither calculate nor exhibit is the
simple, afrmative obverse of the subtraction of the undecidable.
With this the innite procedure of verifying the true begins, or, that is,
the examination in the situation of the consequences of the axiom. This
examination, in turn, is not guided by any established law. Nothing can
govern its trajectory, since the axiom sustaining it is decided independ-
ently of any appeal to the norms of evaluation. The trajectory involved is
a hazardous one, lacking in concept. The successive choices of verica-
tion do not have any aim that might be representable as an object, or
supported by a principle of objectivity.
But what is a pure choice, a choice without concept? It is obviously a
choice between two indiscernible terms. If no formula exists that can
discern two terms of the situation, it is clear that the decision to proceed
with verication via one term rather than the other cannot be based in
CONDITIONS
124
the objectivity of their difference. It is an absolutely pure choice, one free
from any presupposition other than that of having, in the absence of any
distinguishing mark in the presented terms, to choose the one through
which the verication of the consequences of the axiom will rst
proceed.
In philosophy, this situation is clearly identied under the name
freedom of indifference. This freedom is a freedom that, confronting
the indiscernible, is not governed by any identiable norm of difference.
If there is no value that discriminates things that you have to choose
between, then your freedom as such constitutes the norm and merges
with chance. The indiscernible is the subtraction that establishes a point
of coincidence between chance and freedom. The likes of Descartes made
this point of coincidence the prerogative of God. We know that he went
so far as to say that the axiom of divine liberty is such that the choice of
4 rather than 5 as the answer to the sum of 2 + 2 is a choice between two
indiscernibles. In this case, the norm of addition comprises a norm from
which God is subtracted. It is his pure choice that will retroactively con-
stitute it, that is to say verify it, in the active sense of turn into truth.
Putting God aside, the indiscernible will be held to organize the pure
point of the Subject in the process of verication. A subject is that which
disappears between two indiscernibles, that which is eclipsed in the sub-
traction of a difference without concept. This subject is the throw of the
dice that does not abolish chance but that realizes it as a verication of the
axiom that founds it. What was decided at the point of the undecidable
event will pass via this term, in which the local act of a truth is represented
without reason or marked difference, and indiscernible from its other. As
a fragment of chance, the subject crosses the distance-less gap that the
subtraction of the indiscernible inscribes between two terms. In this regard
the subject of a truth is genuinely in-different: it is the indifferent lover.
The act of the subject is, as you see, essentially nite, as is the presenta-
tion of indiscernibles in its being. However, the verifying trajectory con-
tinues investing the situation through successive indifferentiations in
such a way that what is accumulated with these acts gradually comes to
draw the contours of a subset of the situation, or of the universe in which
the evental axiom veries its effects. Clearly this subset is both innite
and incompletable. Nevertheless, it is possible to state that, were it com-
pleted, it would ineluctably form a generic subset.
ON SUBTRACTION
125
How, indeed, could a series of pure choices engender a subset that
could be unied by means of a predicate? This would entail that the
subset was secretly governed by a concept, or that the indiscernibles in
which the subject is dissipated in its act are actually discerned by some
superior understanding. This is what Leibniz thought, for whom the
impossibilities of indiscernibles resulted from Gods computational intel-
lect. But if there is no God who computes the situation, if the indiscerni-
bles really are such, then the trajectory of a truth cannot coincide in the
innite with any truth. And, consequently, the veried terms compose,
or rather, assuming their innite totalization, will have composed, a
generic subset of the Universe. Indiscernible in its act or as Subject, a
truth is generic in its result or in its being. It is subtracted from every
recollection of the multiple in the One of a designation.
There are thus two reasons, and not one, for saying that a truth is
little-said.
The rst is that, as innite in its being, a truth can only be represented
in the future perfect. It will have taken place as a generic innity. Its
taking-place, which is also its localized effects on knowledge, is given in
the nite act of a Subject. Between the nite of its act and the innity of
its being, there is no measure. This lack of measure (de-mesure) is also
that which relates the verifying exposition of the evental axiom to the
innite hypothesis of its completion; or what relates the indiscernible
subtraction, founding of the subject, to the generic subtraction wherein
is anticipated the truth of which the subject is a subject. This relation
goes from almost nothing, the nite, to almost everything, the innite.
Whence the little-said of every truth, since what thereof is said is always
of the local order of verication.
The second reason is intrinsic. As a truth is a generic subset of the
Universe, it cannot then be covered by any predicate or constructed by
any formula. This is the nub of the matter: there is no formula for truth.
Whence the reason a truth is little-said, since ultimately the impossibility
of a formulaic construction boils down to this that what we know of truth
is only that we know of it, being that which is disposed, as always nite,
behind pure choices.
That a truth is little-said in fact expresses the relationship, governed by
an undecidable axiom, that exists between the indiscernible and the
generic.
CONDITIONS
126
That said, the generic or subtractive power of a truth can be anticipated
as such. The generic being of a truth is never presented, but we can
know, formally, that a truth will always have taken place as a generic
innity. Whence the possibility of a ctive disposition (ctionnement) of
the effects of its having-taken-place. From the vantage point of the
subject, it is always possible to hypothesize a universe in which this truth
in which the subject is constituted will have completed its generic total-
ization. What consequences would such a hypothesis on the Universe
have in which the truth proceeds to innity? Youll observe that the
axiom, which decides the undecidable based on the event, is succeeded
by the hypothesis, which supports in ction a Universe supplemented
by the generic subset of which the subject, through the trial of the indis-
cernible, supports local and nite delineations.
Is there anything that would obstruct such a hypothesis? Anything
that might pose a limit to the generic power of a truth engaged in the
ction of its completion, and therefore of its being wholly said? Such an
obstacle exists, to my mind, and it is none other than that of the
unnameable.
Regarding the generic being of a truth, an anticipatory hypothesis
obviously constitutes a forcing of the little-said. This forcing creates the
ction of a wholly said from the vantage point of an innite and generic
truth. The temptation is therefore great to exercise this forcing on the
most intimate and most subtracted point of the situation, on that which
attests to its singularity, on that which has even no proper name, on the
proper of the proper, on the anonym for which not even anonym is an
adequate name.
Lets say that the forcing, which represents the innite genericity of a
truth in the future perfect, is most radically tested in its power to say-all
in truth, when it attempts to give even the unnameable a name.
From the constraint exercised by the innite, or by the subtractive
excess of the generic, over the weakness of the One at the unnameable
point, the desire can emerge to name the unnameable, to appropriate
the proper of the proper in a nomination.
What I decipher in this desire, which every truth puts on the agenda,
is the very gure of Evil. For the forcing of a nomination of the unname-
able is tantamount to the denial of singularity as such, it is the moment
in which, in the name of the innite genericity of a truth, the resistance
of what there is that is absolutely singular in a singularity, that is, the
ON SUBTRACTION
127
part of being of the proper that is subtracted from nomination, appears
as an obstacle to the deployment of a truth seeking to ensure its domin-
ion over the situation. The even-worse (en-pire) (in two words) of a truth
is to force, in the name of generic subtraction, the subtraction of the
unnameable to vanish into the day of nomination.
We shall call this a disaster. Evil is the disaster of a truth, one that
comes when the desire to force the nomination of the unnameable is
unleashed in ction.
It is commonly said that Evil is the negation of what is present and
afrmed, that it is murder and death, that it is opposed to life. I should
rather say that it is the denial of a subtraction. What Evil affects is not
that which is self-afrming, but rather that which is withdrawn from and
anonymous to the weakness of the One. Evil is not the non-respect of
the name of the Other; it is much more the desire to name at any price.
It is commonly said that Evil is mendacity, ignorance and murderous
stupidity. But, alas, it is rather the case that Evil has as its radical condi-
tion the process of a truth. There is only ever Evil insofar as there
is a truth axiom at the point of the undecidable, a trajectory of truth
at the point of the indiscernible, an anticipation of the being of truth at
the point of the generic and the forcing into truth of a nomination at the
point of the unnameable.
If the forcing of the unnameable subtraction is a disaster, then it is
because it affects the entire situation, by chasing singularity as such from
it, of which the unnameable is the emblem. In this sense, the desire in
ction to suppress the fourth subtractive operation unleashes a capacity
of destruction that is latent in every truth, in the very sense in which
Mallarm wrote Destruction was my Beatrice.
The ethics of a truth consists then wholly in a sort of restraint with
regard to its powers. It is important that the combined effect of the unde-
cidable, the indiscernible and the generic, or that is of the event, the
subject, and truth, accepts as the principled limitation of its trajectory
that unnameable that Samuel Beckett made the title of a book.
Samuel Beckett was certainly not blind to the latent ravage that the
desire for truth inicts on the subtraction of the proper. He even saw in
it the ineluctable violence of thought, as, for instance, when he said in
his Unnamable that I only think . . . once a certain degree of terror has
been exceeded. But he also knew that the ultimate guarantee for the
possibility of a peace among truths is rooted in the reserve of non-saying;
CONDITIONS
128
in the limit of the voice vis--vis that which shows itself; in that which is
subtracted from the absolute imperative to speak the truth. This is also
what he intended when in Molloy he reminded us that to restore silence
is the role of objects and when in How It Is he rejoiced over the fact that
the voice being so ordered I quote that of our total life it states only
three quarters.
Subtracting is that on the basis of which every truth proceeds. But
subtraction is what, in the guise of the unnameable, provides the norm
and sets a limit for the subtractive subject. There is only one maxim in
the ethics of a truth: do not subtract the ultimate subtraction.
This is exactly what Mallarm, with whom I shall conclude, said in
Prose (for des Esseintes).
The danger is that a truth, errant and incomplete as it may be, takes
itself, in the words of the poet, as an age of authority. It thus desires for
everything to be triumphantly named, in the Summer of revelation. But
the core of what is, the southland of our unconsciousness of being, does
not and must not have a name. The site of the true, subtractively edied,
or again, as the poet says, the ower that a contour of absence has sepa-
rated from every garden, itself remains in its intimate depth, subtracted
from the proper name. The sky and the map reveal that this country did
not exist. But it does exist, and that is what troubles authoritarian truth,
for which only that which is named in the power of the generic exists.
This trouble must be made more profound in safeguarding the proper
and the nameless. Let us conclude, then, with the following, in which
everything Ive said is said as a scintillation.
The age of authority wears thin
When, without reason, it is stated
Of this southland which our twin
Unconsciousness has penetrated
That, soil of a hundred irises, its site,
They know if it was really born:
It bears no name that one could cite,
Sounded by summers golden horn.
(Stphane Mallarm, Prose (for des Esseintes) in Collected Poems,
translated and with a commentary by Henry Weineld, Berkeley:
University of California Press 1994, p. 46. Translation modied.)
129
CHAPTER NINE
Truth: Forcing and the Unnameable
Is it not natural of a naturalness that etymology justies with a most
extensive artice that, concerning truth, the philosopher states his dec-
larations from the bias of love? The Platonic gesture, no doubt, as it was
registered and acclaimed throughout the centuries prior to its vilication,
is intent on seeing in philosophia a friendship taken in wisdom the
connotation of a superior intensity, since, in the shelter of wisdom, what
one discovers is the enigma of truth, and consequently in the calm of
friendship the storm of love. Through this transference, in all senses of
the word, philosophy as Lacan showed us in his strange appropriation
of a sort of real Symposium presents itself as the love of truth.
So, when Lacan stressed that a psychoanalysts stance is certainly not
to love the truth, we should be in no doubt he is pursuing a line of
thought he came to call anti-philosophy.
As anti-philosopher, clearly, Lacan appointed himself as the educator
of all future philosophers. A contemporary philosopher, for me, is indeed
someone who has the unfaltering courage to work through Lacans
anti-philosophy. There are not many of them. It is as one of them,
however, that I shall endeavour to explain what I declare is the return
of truth. We might say that I speak here as a philosophersubject
supposed to know of anti-philosophy; and, hence, also as a lover of truth
supposed to know what little credence can be granted to protests made
in the name of such a love.
Lacan established the concept of truth in a seminar entitled The Other
Side of Psychoanalysis, which has recently been published in an edition
that I am simply taking as is, without entering into the controversies
CONDITIONS
130
that invariably attend the inscription of the living word into the
dead letter.
Lacans basic contention consists in maintaining that, truth primordi-
ally being a kind of powerlessness, a weakness, it is as such necessary, if
a love of truth exists, that this love is the love of that powerlessness, of
that weakness. In this matter, you will observe, Lacan is for once
consonant with Nietzsche, for whom the truth is in some sense the
powerless form of power, or the power, as it is called in order to conceal
it, of the powerless.
Yet, no sooner did Lacan do this than he distanced himself from the
Dionysian preacher. Since, for Lacan, the root of the weakness in which
truth lies is by no means of the order of revenge or ressentiment. Rather,
what affects truth with an insurmountable restriction is, plainly, castra-
tion. Truth is a veil thrown over the impossibility of saying it all. It is at
once something that can only be half-said and that conceals this acute
powerlessness restricting access to saying in an act of pretence, whereby
it transforms itself into an image of itself as total. Truth is the mask of its
own weakness. This time Lacan is consonant with Heidegger, for whom
truth is the very veiling of being in its withdrawal (retraite). Except that
Lacan distanced himself completely from the pathos with which Heidegger
characterizes the becoming-distress of the veil and the forgetting. This is
because castration is structural or it is the structure itself: which means
that for Lacan there can be no place for the pre-castrated primordials that
poets and pre-Socratic thinkers (ultimately) constitute for Heidegger.
As regards the authority of structure, what did Lacan argue the love of
truth consists in? The logical consequence of what we have said is quite
simply that the love of truth is the love of castration.
We are so used to thinking the horror of castration that it can only be
astonishing to see a formula that expresses love for it. Nevertheless, this
is exactly what Lacan pressed ahead with in a seminar dated 14 January
1970, in which we read: The love of truth is the love of that weakness
whose veil we have lifted; it is the love of that which is hidden by truth,
and which is called castration.
1
Thus truth, in the guise of the love one bears for it, affects castration
with a veiling, whereby castration becomes stripped of the horror that it
inspires as pure structural effect.
For the philosopher, this is stated: the truth is only tolerable for
thought, that is to say, only philosophically lovable, inasmuch as one sets
TRUTH: FORCING AND THE UNNAMEABLE
131
ones sights not on its plenitude or complete saying but on the resources
of its subtractive dimension.
So, I shall attempt not without the necessary approximation entailed,
not only by a wish for concision, but also by the desire to consider as
precisely as possible the indispensable mathematical parallels to weigh
truth in the scales of its power and its powerlessness, of its process and
its limit, in its afrmative innity and its essential subtraction.
I shall assemble the scales of my weighing up through a fourfold
disjunction.
1. That of transcendence and immanence. Truth is not of the order of
something that stands above the givenness (donation) of experi-
ence; rather it proceeds from the latter, or it insists in it as a singu-
lar gure of immanence.
2. That of the predicable and the non-predicable. There exists no
single predicative trait capable of subsuming and totalizing the
components of a truth. That is why a truth will be said to be
nondescript or generic.
3. That of the innite and the nite. Conceived in its incompletable
being (as something that cannot be completed) a truth is an in-
nite multiple.
4. That of the nameable and the unnameable. The capacity of a truth to
spread itself as judgement on knowledge is restricted by an unname-
able point, one that cannot be forced without inducing disaster.
Thus, a truth is subtracted fourfold from the exhibition of its being. It is
neither a supremum visible in the ash of its self-sufciency, nor anything
specied by a knowledge predicate, nor subject to the familiarity of ni-
tude, nor a limitless power as regards it potential for knowledge.
To love truth is not solely to love castration, but to love the four gures
in which its horror dissipates: immanence, genericity, the innite and
the unnameable.
Let us go through them in order.
That truth, at least our truth, is purely immanent was one of Freuds at
once simple and fundamental intuitions. He defended the principle of
immanence in an uncompromising fashion, especially against Jung. It is
no exaggeration to say that one of Lacans primary motivations was to
keep this ame alive, bringing him to oppose the scientic and moraliz-
ing objectivism of the Chicago school.
CONDITIONS
132
I will use the word situation the most nondescript word imaginable
to designate the multiple of circumstances, of language, of objects, in
which a truth proceeds. I shall say that this operation is in the situation
and as such is neither its term, nor its norm, nor its destiny. In the
psychoanalytic situation itself, the experience of the psychoanalyst,
wherein a truth contrives (machiner) the subject, and singularly his
suffering, things are clearly similar: the existence of the truth that
emerges in the course of successive operations cannot ever be said to
constitute a pre-given norm for what is being observed. Nor is the con-
cern to discover or uncover the truth as if it were a secret entity buried,
if I may say, in the deep exteriority of the situation. This is the point in a
nutshell: that there is no depth, and that depth is only another name,
one dear to hermeneuts, of transcendence.
But, then, if its process it strictly immanent, and if it is no longer there
in the situation as a deep secret or intimate essence, where does a truth
come from? How can it advance in the situation without always already
having been in it? Lacans genius lay in seeing that, as with Columbuss
egg, the response is contained in the question. If a truth cannot come
from the given (une donation), it is because it originates in a disappearance.
This original disappearance, which came, for the time of a ash, to supple-
ment the situation, and which is not localized within the latter except
insofar as nothing of it subsists, and which insists in truth precisely insofar
as it cannot be repeated as presence this is what I call an event. The
event in philosophy is clearly analogous to what Freud called the primal
scene, which since it only has a force of truth in its abolition, or since it
has no site except the disappearance of the having-taken-place, means
that it is pointless to ask, within the realist categories of the situation,
whether it was real or invented. This question is, in the properly logical
sense of the word, undecidable. The effect of truth consists in retroactively
validating the fact that at the point of this undecidable there was the dis-
appearance acutely real and henceforth immanent to the situation not
only of the undecidable, but of the very question of the undecidable.
Such is the rst subtractive dimension of truth, whose immanence
depends upon the undecidability of what that immanence retraces.
What then is a truth the truth of? It can only be the truth of the situa-
tion itself, in which it insists, since there is nothing transcendent to the
situation that is given to us, and nothing transcendent that truth would
permit us to gain an apprehension of. This means that, since a situation,
TRUTH: FORCING AND THE UNNAMEABLE
133
grasped in its pure being, is only a particular multiple, a truth will never
be anything but a subset of this multiple, a subset of this set called situa-
tion. This is the ontological requirement of immanence in all its rigour.
Since a truth advances in a situation, that to which it attests does not at
all exceed the situation itself. We could say that a truth is included in that
of which it is the truth.
Here I shall open a careful parenthesis. Careful, because, I must admit,
I am not nor have I ever been nor will I most likely ever be either an
analyst, or an analysand, or analysed. I am unanalysed. Can someone
unanalysed say anything about psychoanalysis. You will be the judges of
that. Now, from what Ive just said it seems to follow that, to the extent
that what is at stake in psychoanalysis involves a truth, it is not so much
a truth of the subject as it is a truth of the analytic situation itself, a truth that
the analysand will no doubt henceforth need to take on board, but of
which it would be one-sided to say that it belongs to him or her alone.
Psychoanalysis seems to me to be a situation in which the analysand is
given the painful opportunity to encounter a truth, to cross a truth along
the way. And it is from this crossing that he emerges either armed or dis-
armed. And perhaps it is in seeing things this way that we might throw
some light on the mysteries of what Lacan, who clearly considered the
real to be an impasse, called, precisely, the pass.
So, let us look at the dimension of impasse. We will say that a truth
only comes to the end of its process as a subset of the situation-set. Now
we know that a situation species any number of subsets. This in fact
gives us the broadest possible denition of knowledge. Knowledge is
what names a situations subsets. The language of the situation has the
precise function of gathering, under a predicative trait, the elements of
the situation, and thereby of constituting a concepts extensional corre-
late. A subset, such as, for example, one in a perceptual situation of dogs
or cats, or in an analytic situation of traits and hysterical or obsessional
symptoms, is captured in concepts of the language, on the basis of indices
of recognition attributable to all the terms or elements that fall under the
concept. I call this nominal and conceptual swarming of forms of knowl-
edge the encyclopaedia of the situation. The encyclopaedia is a classier
of subsets, and the multiform entanglement of forms of knowledge that
language continually elicits.
But if a truth is only a subset of the situation, then how is it distin-
guished from a rubric of knowledge? The question is philosophically
CONDITIONS
134
crucial. The issue is to know if the price we pay for immanence is not the
pure and simple reduction of truth to knowledge. If it were, this would
grant a decisive concession to all variants of positivism. And, more sig-
nicantly, to forms of neoclassical regression, which would involve
abandoning the impetus that Kant gave, and Heidegger later renewed, to
the crucial distinction between truth and knowledge, which is also that
between thought and knowledge. Exaggerating the matter slightly, this
neoclassical version would come down to saying that as soon as a given
analysands case is identied as being hysterical or obsessional or phobic,
as soon as the patients predicative trait is established, and he is inscribed
in the analytic situation, the crux of the work is done. All that remains is
to draw the consequences.
In his specic conception of delity to Freud, Lacan categorically
rejected this nosological vision of the analytic situation. Instead, he took
up and projected across the analytic eld, the modernity of a non-
conceptual gap between truth and forms of knowledge. Not only did he
distinguish between them, but he pointed out that a truth is essentially
unknown, that it is literally a hole in forms of knowledge.
In so doing and to my mind this is a point whose consequences we
are yet to grasp Lacan has proclaimed that psychoanalysis is not a type
of knowledge but a type of thought.
However, despite what is announced by those who variously aim at
theological recuperation, that is, by those who are always hard at work
trying to turn pig-feed into hosts, and who thus proffer mouth-watering
speculations on the transcendence of the Big Other, Lacan was never
prepared to compromise the immanence of truth.
He therefore had to force our impasse and establish that, even though
it can be reduced to an insubstantial subset of the situation, a truth of the
situation nevertheless remains heterogeneous to those subsets listed by
forms of knowledge.
That is what is essentially expressed by the maxim concerning the
half-said nature of truth. That a truth is not all-said signies that its
plenitude, the subset that it constitutes in the situation, cannot be
captured by a predicative trait that would make of it a subsection of the
encyclopaedia. The truth at stake in the psychoanalysis of such and such
a woman can in no way be assimilated to the fact that this woman is, so
to say, a hysteric. Granted, there will be numerous components of the
truth at work in such a situation that possess distinctive traits of what
TRUTH: FORCING AND THE UNNAMEABLE
135
goes by the name hysteria in the register of knowledge. But saying so is
not to do anything in truth. For the truth in question necessarily arranges
other components whose traits bear no relevance to the encyclopaedic
concept of hysteria, and it is only insofar as these components subtract
the set from the predicate of hysteria that a truth, not a form of knowl-
edge, proceeds in its singularity. Hence, however condent one may be
in a diagnosis of hysteria and the consequences to be drawn from it, it is
not only not a statement of truth, but is not even a half-said truth, since,
being registered in knowledge, the dimension of truth is entirely lacking.
A truth is a subset of the situation that is formed in such a way that its
components cannot be totalized under a predicate of language however
sophisticated that predicate may be. A truth is therefore a nondescript
subset, and so also indeterminate since the way it brings its components
together rules out their having any common trait that would enable this
set to be identied in knowledge.
And it is obviously because it is included in the situation under the
form of a singular indetermination in its concept, because it is subtracted
from every classifying grip of encyclopaedic language, that such a subset
is not the knowledge of such and such a regional particularity of the situ-
ation but a truth of the situation as such, an immanent production of its
pure multiple-being, a truth of its being, qua being.
As it so often happens, mathematics comes to the aid of Lacans intu-
ition. At the beginning of the 1960s, a mathematician named Paul Cohen
identied such subsets of a set. Cohen called a subset subtracted from
every determination by a xed formula of the language a generic subset.
And Cohen demonstratively established that the supposition that such
subsets exist is consistent.
Twenty years ago, Gdel had already provided a rigorous denition of
the idea that a subset is named in knowledge. Such subsets are sets
whose elements validate a xed formula of the language. Gdel called
them constructible subsets. Cohens generic subsets, by contrast, are pre-
cisely non-constructible sets. They are too indeterminate to correspond
to, or to be totalized by, a unique predicative expression.
There can be no doubt that the opposition between constructible sets
and generic sets ontologically grounds the purely immanent support
of being of the opposition between knowledge and truth. In this way,
Cohens demonstration of the fact that the existence of generic subsets is
consistent is a genuinely modern proof of the fact that truths can exist,
CONDITIONS
136
truths that are irreducible to any given of the encyclopaedia. In the
ontological radicality of the matheme, Cohens theorem comes to
complete what began with modernity in the Kantian distinction between
thought and cognition.
That a truth is generic and not constructible which, in the guise of
the half-said, was Lacans ingenious intuition entails, and we now
come to the third of our disjunctions, that a truth is innite.
This point seems to constitute an objection to every philosophy of
nitude, even as, by way of his thesis of the objet petit a, Lacan inscribed
nitude at the heart of desire. All of the being by which such desire is
supported resides, in effect, in this object, which is also its cause, and of
which, as is indicated by its always being a partial object, nitude is
constitutive.
In reality, the dialectic of the nite and the innite in Lacan is extremely
tortuous, and I dare say that the philosophers eye detects at this point
the limit, and therefore the real, of that which thinking it as thought,
in keeping with Lacans approach psychoanalysis is capable.
That a truth is innite constitutes an objection to philosophical
ruminations on nitude only if that truth is immanent, and hence only
insofar as it touches on the real. If truth is transcendent, or supra-real,
then it can, under the name of God or one akin to it such as the Other,
abandon the integral destiny of the subject to nitude.
I said a moment ago that Lacan sided with the immanence of truth, but
I added that he did this on the whole. For, he only ever strictly observed
the constraint of immanence concerning what could be called the
primordial determinant of this thought. Elsewhere, Lacan oscillated
considerably on this point, essentially as a result of his hesitation to cut
ties with the hermeneutics of nitude, to which, alas, the majority of
contemporary philosophy is reducible, and that is today reviving a form
of pious discourse, a religiosity that elevates the small God of minimum
transcendence suitable to our democratic conviviality, to which we are
reassuringly told no conceivable alternative exists.
It is certainly thanks to Lacans implacable knife, to the sure way he
sliced between the logic of sense and the logic of truth, that we have the
whole conceptual apparatus in which the abjection of pious discourse
was made perceptible. And as for democratic conviviality: we know it
was not Lacans forte, and more that, as is daily evident, it is by no means
a suitable ideal for those who lay claim to his legacy.
TRUTH: FORCING AND THE UNNAMEABLE
137
All the same, Lacans equivocation is evident, as we can see in . . .
Or Worse, where he is led to say (it is only one of many examples) that
Cantors non-denumerable transnite cardinals represent an object that
I would qualify as mythical. I for my part do not believe that we can
take one more step in pursuit of the consequences of the innity of the
true except if we hold non-denumerable cardinals as being not myth,
but real.
If we are to go beyond Lacan, then perhaps we ought to be faithful to
the master by putting our essential trust in the matheme. And, above all,
we must insist on demonstratively establishing the fact that every truth
is innite.
Let us suppose that a truth is nite. As a nite subset of the situation,
it is composed of the terms a
1
, a
2
, and so on, until a
3
, where the number
n xes the intrinsic dimension of such a truth. We have then a truth in
which n components are articulated. It follows directly that this subset
can be assigned a predicate, and that, as it is inscribed in the encyclopae-
dia, it falls under knowledge. To be brief, let us say that a nite subset
cannot be generic, but that it is necessarily constructible. Consider the
predicate (which is always available in a language of the situation) iden-
tical with a
1
, or identical with a
2
, . . . or identical with a
n
. The composed
set of terms in question, the terms a
1
, a
2
, so on up to a
n
, is exactly covered
by this predicate. This predicate constructs this subset, identies it in
language and rules out its being generic. So it cannot be a truth. QED.
A truths innity immediately entails that it is incompletable. For the
subset that it constitutes, which is delineated on the basis of the evental
disappearance, is composed along a succession that founds a time, such
as, for example, that unique time of the analytic cure. Regardless of the
norm internal to the extension of such a time, this time is itself irremedi-
ably nite. And hence the truth that unfolds in it does not attain
the complete composition of its innite being. It was Freuds genius to
recognize this point in the guise of the innite dimension of psychoanal-
ysis, which always leaves open, like a gaping chasm, the truth that slips
into the time inaugurated by psychoanalysis.
This, I believe, brings us back to castration as that which the truth
veils, thereby giving us the permission to love it.
For, if a truth continues to open onto the innity of its being, what
kind of power can it have? To say that it is half-said is not to say much.
The relationship between the niteness of the time of its composition,
CONDITIONS
138
that is, the time founded by the event of a disappearance, and the
innity of its being, is a relationship without measure. We should rather
say: a truth is little-said; or even: the truth is almost not spoken. Is
it legitimate, then, to speak of a power of the truth, of a power necessary
to found the concept of its possible powerlessness? In the seminar I cited
at the start Lacan directly stated that it seems to be among analysts, and
among them in particular, that, invoking certain taboo words with which
their discourse is festooned, one never notices what truth which is to
say, powerlessness is. Certainly. But if we are to avoid being either like
those festooned analysts, or simply jealous of the festooned, we shall
have to think the powerlessness of truth, which presupposes that we are
rst able to conceive its power.
I have conceived this power which Freud perhaps already named
with the category of working through under the name of forcing,
which Ive taken directly from the mathematical work of Cohen. Forcing
concerns the point at which, although incomplete, a truth authorizes
anticipations of knowledge, not statements about what is, but about what
will have been if the truth reaches completion.
What the dimension of anticipation requires is that the formulation of
truth judgements be carried out in the future perfect. This means that,
while almost nothing can be said about what a truth is, when it comes to
what happens on condition that that truth will have been, there is a forcing
that enables almost everything to be stated.
In this way, a truth works in the retroaction of an almost nothing and
the anticipation of an almost everything.
The decisive point, which Paul Cohen has also resolved in the ontolog-
ical domain, that is, in mathematics, is the following: it is certain that the
elements of generic subset can (denitely) not be named, since a generic
subset is simultaneously incomplete in its innite composition, and sub-
tracted from every predicate that would, in language, identify it in a
single blow. But it can be maintained that if such and such an element of
the situation will have been in the hypothetically completed generic sub-
set under consideration, then such a statement, as rationally connectable
to the element in question, is, or rather will have been, correct. Cohen
called this method forcing, since it is a method that limits the correctness
of statements to the anticipatory condition of the composition of an innite
generic subset.
TRUTH: FORCING AND THE UNNAMEABLE
139
If I say correct or correctness it is because onto the opposition
between knowledge and truth, Lacan superimposed an opposition
between the correct (vridique) and the true. You will observe that a
statement caught up in a forcing cannot without serious confusion be said
to be true. This is precisely because its value cannot be determined except
under the condition of existence pertaining to a generic subset, therefore
under the condition of truth.
For my part, I prefer the term veridical (vridicit), because it at once
indicates a gap with and a connection to truth. I shall therefore say,
projecting what Cohens matheme prescribes for the philosopher, this:
a truth proceeds in situation, without power either to say itself or to
complete itself. This is sense in which it is absolutely castrated, being
almost not what it is. Yet, it does have the power, with regard to a given
statement, to anticipate the following conditional judgement: if such and
such a component gures in a truth that is presumed complete, then the
statement in question will have been veridical (or erroneous). In the
dimension of the future perfect, a truths power resides, in the anticipa-
tion of its own existence, in legislating on what is veridically sayable.
What is veridically sayable obviously pertains to knowledge, and the
category of the veridical is a category of knowledge. It can therefore be
said that, castrated with regard to its own immediate power, a truth is
all-powerful with regard to possible forms of knowledge. The mark of
castration does not pass between truth and knowledge. It separates truth
from itself and, in the same movement, frees up its power of hypotheti-
cal anticipation from the encyclopaedic eld of forms of knowledge. This
power is the power of forcing.
Psychoanalytic experience, I maintain, is woven of such an observa-
tion (constat). That which, little by little, comes to say itself in a cure is not
only what, in a nite and metered time, plots the incompletable innity
of the true, but also and especially with regard to the rare inter-
ventions of the analyst the anticipatory marking of that which will
have be able to have been said veridically, insofar as such and such a
sign, act or signier will have been supposed to be a component of such
and such a truth. This anticipatory marking, we know, depends upon the
future perfect tense of the empirical completion of psychoanalysis,
beyond which any supposition about the completion of truth becomes
impossible, since the situation has been completed, and with it the
CONDITIONS
140
forcing of the possible veridicality of judgements pertaining to it. At
which point it turns out that a said veridicality is something that we can
call knowledge, but it is knowledge within truth. As to what the knowl-
edge obtained that is forced through treatment really consists in, the
analysand, operating a retroaction that comes to compensate the antici-
pation of forcing, is the only witness we have.
I am again going to don the hat of the prudent unanalysed to say that,
as a result, it does not seem to me appropriate to call the act of psycho-
analysis an interpretation. I would prefer, as scandalously authoritarian
as the word may sound, to call it a forcing. For what is required is to
intervene based on the suspended hypothesis of a truth that proceeds in
the analytic situation.
I do not think I am going too far in observing the doubt that lingers on
the question of interpretation in many of the dead masters texts. This
should give us no cause for surprise, if it is recalled that hermeneuts of
all colours have rushed into the breach opened up by the faithful Paul
Ricoeur and sought to saddle the word interpretation with the burden
of connecting psychoanalysis to forms of revamped pious discourse.
To put it bluntly, I do not think psychoanalysis can be a form of interpre-
tation, because its rule is not meaning but truth. It is certainly not either
a discovery of truth, which, since it is generic, we know is futile to hope
shall be discovered. As such our only hope left is that psychoanalysis
consist, in the game of a risked anticipation, in the forcing of knowledge
in truth by which a generic truth in the course of emerging fragmentarily
delivers a constructible knowledge.
Having weighed up the power of truth, are we to say that even under
the wagered condition of its emergent multiplicity it can without excep-
tion extend to all the statements that circulate in the site in which it
proceeds? Does the truth, despite and because of its being generic,
possess the power of naming all imaginable veridicities?
This would amount to disregarding the return of castration, and of the
love linking us to it by way of truth, in the terminal form of an absolute
obstacle, of a term that, although given in the situation, is subtracted
from the clutches of veridical evaluation. Of a point that is in one way or
another unforceable. I call this point the unnameable, and, Lacan, in the
eld of psychoanalysis, called it enjoyment.
Consider a situation in which a truth proceeds as the course (trac) of
a vanished event. We then have a situation that has been supplemented
TRUTH: FORCING AND THE UNNAMEABLE
141
in an immanent way by the becoming of its own truth. For, the paradox
of a generic truth consists in just that: it is a purely internal anonymous
supplement, an immanent addition. What can we say of the real of such
a conguration?
First, we should rigorously distinguish between the real and being.
Lacan applied this distinction from his very rst seminar. On 30 June
1954, he stated that the three fundamental passions, that is, love, hate
and ignorance, can be registered only in the realm of being, and not in
that of the real. So, if love of truth is a passion, then this love is certainly
addressed to the being of truth, but falters upon encountering its real.
Earlier we established the concept of the being of a truth: this being is
that of a generic multiplicity subtracted from constructions of knowl-
edge. To love truth is to love the generic as such, and that is why, as with
all love, it has something astray with it, has something that language
cannot contain, and that is maintained in the errancy of an excess
through the power of the forcings it permits.
However, the question remains as to the real that this errancy itself,
and the power it founds, comes up against.
In this regard, I would say that, in the eld determined by a situation
and the generic becoming of its truth, a real is attested to by a term, a
point, and only one, at which the power of truth is suspended. There is
one term in relation to which no anticipatory hypothesis on the generic
subset permits us to force a judgement. It is a genuinely unforceable
term, one that cannot, no matter how advanced the process of truth,
be prescribed in such a way that it would be conditioned by this truth.
No matter how great the transformative resources proper to the imma-
nent tracing of the true, no naming is appropriate for this term of the
situation. That is why I call it unnameable. Unnameable is to be under-
stood not in terms of the available resources of knowledge but in the
precise sense in which it remains out of reach to the veridical anticipa-
tions founded on truth. It is not unnameable in itself, which is mean-
ingless; it is unnameable with regard to the singular process of a truth.
The unnameable only emerges in the eld of truth.
This sheds light on the fact that in the situation of the analytical cure,
which is precisely one of the places in which a truth is held to be at work,
enjoyment is at once what that truth deploys in terms of the real and
what remains forever subtracted from the veridical range of the sayable.
With regard to analytic truth, or the truth of the situation of the cure,
CONDITIONS
142
enjoyment is exactly the unnameable point that constitutes a stumbling
block for the forcings permitted by this truth.
It must be emphasized that this point is unique. For a single truth there
cannot be two or more unnameables. The Lacanian maxim there is
oneness is here fastened to the irreducible real, to what could be called
the grain of the real jamming the machinery of truth, whose power
consists in being the machinery of forcings and hence the machinery for
producing nite veridicalities from the vantage point of a truth that
cannot be accomplished. Here, the jamming (enrayage) effected by the
One-real is in opposition to the path opened up (frayage) by veridicality.
This effect of oneness in the real, brought about by the power of truth,
constitutes truths powerless obverse. The particular difculty there is in
thinking this effect indicates this immediately. How are we to think that
which is subtracted from every veridical nomination? How are we to
think in truth that which is excluded from the powers of truth? Is not
thinking it necessarily to name it? And how to name the unnameable?
Lacans response to the paradoxical appeal is never fully spelt out.
When he dealt in his seminars with trans-phallic enjoyment, and second-
ary enjoyment in particular, what arose was something about which the
least that could be said is that it is truly anterior to the Freudian cut, and
that was precisely the triangle of femininity, the innite and the unsay-
able. That feminine enjoyment links the innite to the unsayable, and
that we see evidence for it in mystical ecstasy is something I would say
is a cultural topic, and something one senses neither Lacan nor anyone
following him has as yet submitted to the radical test of the matheme.
Perhaps one source of Lacans difculties lay in the paradox of the
unnameable, a paradox that I will formulate as follows: if the unname-
able is unique to the eld of truth, is it not precisely named by this
property? For if what is not named is unique, the not being named
functions as its proper name. Would not the unnameable ultimately be the
proper name of the real of a situation traversed by its truth? Would not
unsayable enjoyment be the name of the real of the subject, as soon
as it has to come to terms in the cure-situation with his truth, or with
a truth?
But then the unnameable is named in truth, it is forced, and a truths
reserve of power is effectively boundless.
Here again mathematics steps up to aid us. In 1968, a logician named
Furkhen showed that the uniqueness of the unnameable does not form
TRUTH: FORCING AND THE UNNAMEABLE
143
an obstacle to its existence. He in effect created a mathematical situation
in which the resources of language and its power of naming are clearly
dened, and in which one term exists, and only one, which cannot
receive a name, in the sense that it cannot be identied by a formula of
the language.
It is therefore consistent, in the order of the matheme, to hold that
one and only one term of a given situation remains unforceable from the
standpoint of a generic truth. In a situation supplemented by a truth
this is evinced by a supplements real. No matter how powerful a
truth, how capable of veridicality it proves to be, this power comes
up against a unique term, which with a single blow effects the swing
from all-powerfulness to powerlessness, displacing our love of truth from
its appearance, the love of the generic, to its essence, the love of the
unnameable.
I am not saying that the love of the generic is nothing. By itself, it is
radically distinguished from the love of opinions, that is, the passion of
ignorance, as it is from the fatal desire for complete constructibility. But
love of the unnameable reaches further still, and it alone makes it possi-
ble to maintain a love of truth without disaster or dissolution affecting
the veridical in its entirety. For in matters of truth, only by submitting to
the test of its powerlessness can we nd the ethics required for the adop-
tion of its power.
The circumstances in which we nd ourselves in this autumn of 1991
enjoin me to conclude, in an apparently incongruous manner, with
Ilyich Ulyanov, also known as Lenin, whose statues it is nowadays
fashionable to tear down.
Let us note in passing that if there were some Lacanian who was
tempted to join in the zeal of these statue-removers, he ought to reect
on a paragraph from the seminar held on 20 March 1973, which begins:
Marx and Lenin, Freud and Lacan are not coupled in being. It is via the
letter they found in the Other that, as beings of knowledge, they
proceed two by two, in a supposed Other.
Thus the would-be Lacanian toppler of Lenins statues has to explain
why Lacan identied himself as Freuds Lenin.
Let us add that at a time in which many analysts are preoccupied,
whether only in the monumental guise of Inland Revenue and the
European Union, they would surely do better to consider Lenins writ-
ings than those of the statue-topplers supposing such writings exist.
CONDITIONS
144
Lenin felt obliged to write: Theory is all-powerful because it is true.
This is not incorrect, because forcing submits in anticipatory fashion the
expanse of the situation to a potentially innite network of veridical
judgements But, once again, this is merely the half of it. We must add:
Theory is powerless, because it is true. This second half of the state-
ments correctness is supported by the forcings being in the impasse of
the unnameable. But, on its own, this second statement is no more able
to avert disaster than the rst.
Thus, Lenin seems to have had a relation of love for castration that
veils the latter in that half of half that it founds. As for the statue-
topplers, it is all too evident that they have, on the contrary, adopted a
straight love of powerlessness, which works only to make the bed for
situations without truth.
It this oscillation inevitable? I do not think so. Under the strict guaran-
tee of the matheme, we can advance in this discovery in which the love
of truth relates to castration, by the twofold means of power and power-
lessness, of forcing and the unnameable. We need do no more than hold
both to the veridical and to the incompletable. To nite analysis and to
innite analysis. Or, as Samuel Beckett put it in the last words of a book
that is not called The Unnamable for nothing: You must go on, I cant go
on, Ill go on.
Part IV
Philosophy and Politics
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147
CHAPTER TEN
Philosophy and Politics
1. CLOSURE OF PHILOSOPHY AND RETREAT OF THE POLITICAL?
Has philosophy not entered the unachievable impurity of its closure?
Has politics at least the politics that matters to thought, that is emanci-
patory politics, once called revolutionary politics not come to attest its
disaster? How, then, can the link presumed by an and make thought
circulate between two terms that, in themselves and for us, are wholly
undermined?
It is at once by means of its inner relation to itself, and by means of the
form of its assertions, that, in the opening pages of The Fiction of the
Political,
1
Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe suggests to us in what sense philoso-
phy could no longer be, in his eyes, but in the element of its inherent
impossibility.
Its inner relation to itself is affected because, for him, the desire for
philosophy is stricken by the melancholy of History. More precisely, such
desire, when it is presented as the continuity of a right to desire, is turned
by the centurys obscurities into obscene caricature.
The form is affected because it has become impossible, in philosophy,
to uphold the imperative clarity of theses. The result is that philosophy
then can do no more than oscillate between an intolerable mutism that
of Heidegger faced with Paul Celan
2
and the almost desperate search
for a prose of thought that would prepare thoughts leave for the poem.
Lacoue-Labarthe and Nancy also refer to this impossibility an impos-
sibility that henceforth consists not so much in philosophys standing as
in its subjective element as the retreat of the political. This is because at
CONDITIONS
148
the core of their assessment, which impacts both on philosophys desire
and on its saying (dire), there is without any doubt a conviction about
the, henceforth improbable, or impossible to nd, link between philosophy
and what, of politics, inscribes into History the destiny of a thought in
the form of a clearing.
2. THE COMMUNITY AS THE INHERENT IMPOSSIBILITY
OF OUR WORLD
This clearings philosophical name was originally community. If noth-
ing less, this name itself a descendent of revolutionary fraternity has
governed the philosophical reception of the avatars of emancipatory
politics since 1789. Community is that by means of which philosophy
understands rst the socialist, and then the communist, proposition.
Insofar as it is still implicit in the remnants of the communist idea, at the
limit of its term, community is that through which the collective emerges
in the form of a coming forth (closion) devoid of substance or founding
narrative, of territory or borders, that is not so much subtracted from
oppression and division as it is deployed beyond any such partition, is undi-
vided but without self-fusion and accomplished but without closure, or, as
Mallarm said, such as it ends in a whole stream of subtle branches.
It is a community whose disposition of being is not available for dis-
covery, and so is unsituated, or incapable of being promised to anyone
who would have but a will for it. It is one that, without hearth or home,
does not allow itself, any more than a community of love, to be entrusted
or transmitted to what it is not. It is a community that we will therefore
call, with Maurice Blanchot, unavowable.
3
It is a community that no institution can realize or serve to perpetu-
ate, such that we can only hold ourselves in the embrace of its coming,
in the offering of the event. It is a community that we will therefore call,
with Jean-Luc Nancy, inoperative (dsoeuvre).
It is a community with no present or presence, merely gripped in its com-
ing, such as the ravages of time have stripped its thematic bare, have
exposed its ne displacements. It is a community that we will therefore call,
with Giorgio Agamben, the coming community (communaut qui vient).
4
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
149
The impalpable gift of community is the same that todays world tells
us is a specic impossibility of the world, and of every world, inasmuch
as a world nds support alone in consensual consistency. Community,
communism: what has passed before our eyes is the would-be proof
that these latter were criminal traversings of an inconsistency of world.
Far more than the ease of enjoyment and transit, far more than self-
contained egoism and consent to rapine, and to injustice and to freedom
as a holiday from truth, what people are saying with the market econ-
omy, the technical reign of politicians, war and indifference or rather
what everyone is saying to oneself in the anonymous element of the
statement is this: that today, as always, in this world the community is
an impossibility. Since reasonable management, capital and general
equilibria are the only things that exist.
Or else communities exist. But nothing is more contrary to the Idea of
community than the idea of communal substance, whether it be Jewish,
Arab, French or Western. Nothing places the community in the difculty
of its impossibility more than the realist alliance between the economy
and communitarian cultural territories. And consequently, the real of the
world is precisely the community as impossibility.
Or else this: real politics, the one that is preached to us, debars every
Idea. To be of the world consists in nothing other than making this impos-
sibility ones own, which means, and such is the imperative of our times,
preside over all your actions and all your thoughts in such a way that
these actions and these thoughts attest the impossibility of community.
Or again this: act in the absence of Idea.
3. BARREN AS IT IS, BE CONTEMPORARY WITH THE
VERDICT OF THE WORLD
I shall argue that we ought to understand the truth of this imperative.
More precisely, we ought to understand this imperative in the element
of a truth. Which is to say, we ought to understand it in the same way
that, in his Manifesto, Marx understood the capacity of capital to dissolve
all the sacred links upon which it was believed the consistency of the
world rested. We ought thus understand it as a horror with no truth that
CONDITIONS
150
exhibits matter for a possible truth. This is to say, we ought to displace
the barren imperative of our world. Simply displace it.
Within which space of places is it to be displaced? In my view, every-
thing rests here on the link between community and truth, and there-
fore, ultimately, on the link between philosophy and politics. The
displacement consists in this: the fatal aspect of the communist Idea was
that it presupposed the co-belonging of the community and the truth of
the collective. In communism, community became the coming realiza-
tion, in politics, of the collective as truth.
That the collective in its act is the truth of what it is, philosophy has
since the beginning called justice. Plato stated exactly this at the end of
Book IV of The Republic when he said that justice by no means consists in
an external norm, in a qualication of what is. Justice, he said, is said of
action that touches on the order within oneself (intriorit), an action
that is veridically (althos) relative to what is there of such inner order
and that issues strictly from it. In the gure of community, justice is
therefore not what can be said of the collective; it is the collective such
as it occurs veridically, or as truth, in its own immanent disposition.
This presupposes, of course, that justice is disjoint from necessity, in
whatever form it operates. The tragedy of the communist Idea in its secu-
larized form is that it placed necessity in charge of its paradigm, which
was also to say, it submitted politics to a sense of History. This Idea of com-
munism named the community as beholden to its own real necessity.
Instead, we ought to, in the same terms as Plato, maintain that such a
stance is sophistic. In Book VI of The Republic Plato gave a denition of
the sophist that is seldom mentioned but that in my view is crucial. The
sophist, he said, is the one who cannot see the extent to which the
nature of the good and the nature of the necessary differ. The subordi-
nation of political will to the notion of a necessity of the community as
the gure of good in politics consigns will to the domain of sophistry.
Little wonder, then, that today this will, which for so long had been rep-
resented as the will to justice, expends itself in the inverted form of
sophistic reasoning dominating us, and that is: because the community is
impossible, emancipatory politics does not represent a good. Again, and
we hear this repeated from all quarters, in the idea of communism, and
therefore in the givenness of the community, the essence of justice is
injustice. The impossibility of the community, which is the real of the
world, prevents politics from falling under an idea. It follows that every
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
151
kind of politics essentially consists in managing necessity. Which can
also be stated as: there is no emancipatory politics. What there is, is the
regulated and natural development of liberal equilibria.
If, contrary to this verdict, we assume that it is possible for politics to
exist in the element of thought, and therefore of justice since justice
is only the philosophical name for politics as a form of thought then a
thesis suggests itself whose consequences I shall now attempt to deploy:
the impossibility of community forms no objection to the imperative of
emancipatory politics, whether we name it communism or otherwise.
4. EXISTENCE OF POLITICS AT THE POINT OF ITS
APPARENT IMPOSSIBILITY
Incidentally, Platos conviction was also that the communitys impossibil-
ity does not constitute an objection to a politics of which this idea is a
philosopheme. In The Republic, Socrates interlocutors try to unsettle him
at several points by saying that the ideal city that he mythologizes, as he
puts it, has not the slightest chance of existing. But Socrates response to
this, in its crafty variations, essentially comes down to saying that when
politics is taken as a form of thought
5
and obviously only such a politics
is of interest to philosophy then the norm of politics does not lie in its
objective possibility.
But we are nevertheless not speaking about some utopia: since, in
its very impossibility, the politics that is described, the mythologized
politeia, actually has a real. This real is that of subjective prescription, of a
prescription that carries out with regard to the world not nothing at
all but what it is possible to do (even if it is in accordance with the real
law of the impossible). There are two related gures of this possible-
commensurable-with-the-impossible:
First, the gure of statements. A politics is already real insofar as its
statements have succeeded in existing. Politics, if it comes within
thought, is initially contained in prescriptive statements. Plato did
not hesitate to maintain that, in any case, its practical execution,
praxis, bears less truth within it than the statement, lexis. As a
result, a political prescription has no need rst to establish its
CONDITIONS
152
possibility in terms of realization. Socrates asks: Do you think,
then, that our words are any the less well spoken if we nd our-
selves unable to prove that it is possible for a state to be governed
in accordance with our words?At the end of the day, every eman-
cipatory politics presupposes an unconditioned prescription.
Unconditioned here means that radical emancipatory politics
does not set out from an examination of the world that aims to
demonstrate its possibility. And also that a politics is not obliged to
present itself as something that represents an objective social
grouping. A politics of emancipation draws itself from the void that
an event brings forth (fait advenir) as the latent inconsistency of the
given world. These statements are the namings of this very void.
Second, the statements of an emancipatory politics envelop a
second real principle, which is the principle of political subjectivity.
This forms the main theme of the end of Book IX of The Republic,
where there is a renewed attack by the sceptical youth. The politi-
cian, Plato said, will take care of public affairs very much so in the
society where he really belongs; but not, I think, in the society
where hes born, unless some miracle happens. Where he really
belongs this he refers to the political man, the opposite of the
politician (in the usual sense), that is, to the militant of an uncon-
ditioned prescription, as he is in situation in the society where he
is born, and in which he will act, in accordance with this prescrip-
tion, under the injunction of the chance of events, without ever
giving ground on the subjective norm he has adopted. And, Plato
added, it doesnt matter whether it exists or ever will exist; in it
alone, and in no other society, could he take part in public affairs.
5. PHILOSOPHICAL NAMINGS AND POLITICAL CATEGORIES
But if in order to be just politics requires no form of proof in terms
of necessary or possible existence, if in the rst place it is a form of think-
ing that, through the persistent efforts of a subject, is brought into being
with the body of statements that make up its prescription, then it follows
that the community, that is, the supposition of a real being of justice in
the form of a collective that makes of itself a truth, is never either
CONDITIONS
164
of establishing in thinking, as in the militant test to which it is submitted,
the prescriptions and statements of a new modality? The evental refer-
ents that have been subjectively constituted, even if their names remain
in suspense, are clear: the earlier mentioned sequence of the Cultural
Revolution, and the years stretching from May 1968 to the end of 1975,
and no doubt also the Polish movement beginning with the Gdansk
strikes and ending in Jaruzelskis coup dtat.
People will ask: can such a politics be identied and pursued, given
that it would surely set itself in opposition to the parliamentary gure
of politics, to its Mitterandist version included, if only because Mitteran-
dism has given shape also on a subjective level to what we might call
a renegades balance-sheet of May 1968? The response to such a ques-
tion has to be formulated in the immanence of a continuation, and
therefore from within the space opened by political prescription. There
exists no analytical or external protocol of the process of this question.
The existence of emancipatory politics does not proceed from an analysis
of the situation, since by denition it is never transitive either to given-
ness (donation), or to the interests of social groups. It can therefore only
ever presuppose its own existence. The question of existence here can-
not be formulated except from the vantage point of a pre-existence. One
can also say that it is impossible to infer the existence of a politics of
emancipation from a position situated outside of its process. Emancipa-
tory politics is not observed; it is encountered.
3. That philosophy as a site of thought is radically distinct from poli-
tics, but is placed under the condition of the evental gure of politics.
It is therefore required, bearing the earlier mentioned data in mind, that
philosophy, and therefore the philosopher, encounters politics as thought.
On this basis, it could be said that philosophy, or rather a philosophy,
seizes the singularity of a politics through generic names. The stakes of
this seizure are to render the generic nomination of politics compossible
to the other truthprocedures in the evental or faithful form of time.
Thus, a thinking of time is attained that is turned towards eternity, since
this time is grasped by thought only as the spacing in situation of truths.
The philosophical question is, then: how to name a politics the referents
and stakes of which are as stated, such that this naming is compossible
with those of the modern poem, modern mathematics and the modern
adventure of love?
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
165
10. THE PHILOSOPHICAL NAMING OF
AN EMANCIPATORY POLITICS AIMS AT
A TRUTH, AND IN NO WAY AT SENSE
It is exactly here that the following question arises: is community an
acceptable name for the philosophical naming of a politics of our time?
My response to it is, I must say, somewhat circumspect. The reason for
doubt is clear: community, in the shape of communism, continues to
bear within it the disastrous history of a suture. More precisely: through
the name community philosophy worked to inject a sense of destiny into
the heavy and cruel concepts of politics in its MarxistLeninist age, an
age whose passing was pronounced at least as early as the turn taken, in
1967, by the Cultural Revolution in China, and thereafter by the (rare)
specically political effects that came of the years 19681975.
Here some support must be sought in a chief operator of de-suturation.
The statement in question is also, and it is not surprising, the most suc-
cinct maxim of modern atheism. This statement is: truths have no sense.
Sequential, suspended from the chance an event, truths (including polit-
ical truths) are the effects of a conceptless delity in a situation. They do
not trace any general trajectory to which a sense could be ascribed.
Truths occur in making-holes in, in the defection of sense. Because sense
is only ever something the situation itself administers.
However, one of a sutures modalities, if not its essential modality,
involves ascribing or infecting the defective neutrality of a truth with the
weight of sense. In so doing, philosophy in fact exposes the singularity of
a truth to a disaster of sense.
This is what makes thinking the destiny of communism so difcult,
what makes its disaster so clearly devoid of thought. Since this disaster is
universally presented as a disaster of sense. The communist enterprise is
designated as criminal less than it is as absurd, or in other words:
as devoid of sense. In this judgement sense is imputed to the naturality
of the capitalist economy. The madness (insens) of communism is that
it aspired to subtract itself from the naturalness of sense, capitalist and
parliamentary.
Yet, we must, contrary to this common opinion, argue exactly the
opposite. Communism was exposed disaster because Stalinism saturated
politics with philosophemes, and thus with a disastrous excess of sense;
CONDITIONS
166
which obliterated every truth, because it presented sense itself as a truth. The
disaster was not a disaster of sense, but a disaster of truth through sense,
under the effects of sense.
The supposedly natural character of the sense of modern, or Western,
capitalo-parliamentarism is only in reality, as we are well aware, the ef-
caciousness of an absence of sense that carefully refrains from presenting
itself as truth. Modern capitalism and its state political result, the consen-
sual parliamentary State, contain neither sense nor truth. Or rather: they
market this lack of truth and absenting of thought as natural sense.
Capitalo-parliamentarism shields itself from all confusion between sense
and truth, upholding neither one nor the other. Its rule is only in its
functioning, and is therefore a rule of exteriority. It requires nothing of
the subject as political subject. It therefore quite naturally won out over
the sutured and disastrous enterprise of real communism, which pre-
sented sense as if it were coextensive with a truth.
11. IS RIGHT A POLITICAL CATEGORY AND DOES IT
PROVIDE MODERN PARLIAMENTARY POLITICS
WITH ANY (PHILOSOPHICAL) SENSE?
No doubt we must do away with the recent topics by which a so-called
political philosophy attempts to comes to terms with what it believes to
be the triumph of capitalo-parliamentarism, which consist in an apology
of right, of the State of Right and of human rights. Since what this apol-
ogy explicitly aims to do is to provide the all-too-objectivist apparatus of
the market economy and the electoral ritual with sense.
Were this simply an overtly propagandistic matter of opinion the
question would not be worth going into. But it is clear that the category
of right, as well as the more original one of the Law, are in the process
of becoming obligatory through-passages for political philosophy in
reality, for modern sophistry.
Clearly, the apology of right and the Law presupposes a philosophical
assessment of politics that confounds it with the state from the outset.
Within such an apology, there can be no question of politics as a rare and
sequential type of thinking. From within such a politics, right can possi-
bly take on a prescriptive sense, or a sense in consciousness, which has
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
167
no relation to the state of right. This was the case around 1978 when the
strikers at the Sonacrotra residences ran with the slogan French, immi-
grants, equal rights, and again in 1983 when the strikers at Talbot
asserted workers rights. In both cases, the question concerned a right
without Right, a political prescription inaudible for absolutely any form
of state right.
When our philosophers speak of the State of Right, they have no way
of taking stock of the right without right by which a political conscious-
ness is declared. These philosophers speak of an institutional gure, and
place philosophy, not under the condition of politics, but under the con-
dition of the parliamentary state. Political philosophy as a philosophy of
the state of right, grounds its own possibility in tying it to the existence
of a particular form of State, and commits itself to opposing other states
(the late totalitarian State).
For the sake of argument, let us enter into the terrain a terrain that,
again, could never be ours (and has never been that of any genuine
philosophy) of political philosophy and ask: what is a state of right
considered philosophically?
In the ontology of historical multiplicities I have proposed,
13
the State,
qua the state of a situation, is what ensures the structural count of a
situations parts, a count of the situation that generally bears the a proper
name of a particular nation. To call such a state, that is such an operation
of counting, a State of right, basically means that the rule of counting
does not hold forth any particular part as being paradigmatic of being-a-part in
general. To put it another way, no subset, whether it is the nobility, the
working class, or the Party of class, or the rich, or the religious, and so
on, is appointed any special function concerning the operation by which
the other subsets are enumerated and treated. To put it still another way,
in a state of right no explicit privilege codes the operations by which the
State relates to the subsets delimited in the national situation.
Because no paradigmatic part (or Party) validates the count of the
State, it can only be validated by a set of rules, which are formal precisely
in that they do not privilege, in the principle of their legitimacy, any
particular subset, but are said to apply to all, which is to say to all the
subsets registered by the State as being subsets of the situation.
The claim is often made that these rules hold for all individuals, and
thus a contrast is made between the democratic reign of individual
freedom and the totalitarian reign of a self-proclaimed fraction, the Party
CONDITIONS
168
and its leaders. This is not at all the case: no state rule genuinely concerns
the particular innite situation we call a subject or an individual. The
state only ever relates to parts or subsets. Even when it deals in appear-
ance with an individual, it is not the individual in its concrete innity
that is concerned; instead, this innity gets reduced to the One of the
count, that is, to the subset of which the individual is an element, what
the mathematicians call a singleton. The one who votes, who is impris-
oned, who contributes to social security, and so on, is inventoried by
a number, which is the name of his singleton, not his being taken into
account as innite multiplicity. What is meant in saying the state is a
state of right is that its relation to the individual-counted-for-one is made
according to a rule, and not on the basis of an evaluation of which a
privileged subset constitutes the norm. A rule, regardless of which it is,
cannot guarantee by itself an effect of truth, since no truth is reducible to
formal analysis. Being at once singular and universal, every truth is,
to be sure, a regulated process, but is never coextensive with its rule. To
suppose, along with the Greek sophists and Wittgenstein, that rules con-
stitute the ground of thought, insofar as it is subject to language, neces-
sarily entails discrediting the value of truth. That is, moreover, exactly
the conclusion drawn by both these sophists and Wittgenstein: the force
of the rule is incompatible with truth, which is itself then turned into a
merely metaphysical Idea. For the sophists, there are only conventions
and relations of force. And for Wittgenstein, only language games.
If the existence of a state of right thus the state empire of rules
constitutes the essence of the political category of democracy, the crucial
philosophical consequence is that politics has no intrinsic relation to truth.
This is, I reiterate, a philosophical consequence. Because only from a
philosophical site can such a consequence be named. The state of rights
sole internal legislation is to function. This functioning does not, on its
own basis, state the relation that it either does or does not have to the
philosophical category of Truth. Philosophy and only philosophy, since it
is under the condition of politics, can state the current lot of politics as a
truth procedure.
To state that the kernel of sense of a politics resides in Right inevitably
entails that philosophical judgements about politics assert the radical
exteriority of politics to the theme of truth. If the state of right is the
ground of political aspiration, then politics is not a truth procedure.
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
169
This logical inference is substantiated by the empirical evidence. Parlia-
mentary states of the West do not lay claim to any truth. Philosophically
they are, if I may say so, relativist and sceptical states, not simply in an
incidental or ideological way but intrinsically, inasmuch as their ground
is the rule of right. This is the reason why these states readily present
themselves as the least bad rather than as the best. The least bad signi-
es that, no matter what the case is, we inhabit the relative and the bad,
or more exactly, that we inhabit a domain of statist functioning that bears
no direct relation to any afrmative norm such as Truth or the Good.
It will be remarked that things were not the same with the terrorist
and bureaucratic socialist states, which explicitly denounced the rule
of right as purely formal (formal freedoms, etc.). There can obviously
be no question here of defending these police States. Philosophically,
however, it is necessary to see that identifying these states with politics
(class politics, communism) did not result in a cancellation of the truth
function of politics. These states, which actually grounded the count
of parts of the social whole in a paradigmatic subset, consequently held
that this subset (the class or its Party) had a privileged relation with truth.
A privilege without rule which indeed was obviously very irregular
always involves a protocol of legitimation that bears on content and
values. The privilege here is substantial not formal. Consequently, the
states of the East always claimed to concentrate the reign of political
truth in their police apparatuses. They were compatible with a philoso-
phy according to which politics constitutes one of the sites from which
truth proceeds.
In the parliamentarisms of the West, as in the despotic bureaucracies of
the East, politics is in the last instance confounded with State manage-
ment. But the philosophical effects of this confusion are opposed. In the
rst case, where politics ceases to come within the province of truth,
the prevailing philosophy is sceptical and relativist. In the second case,
where politics prescribes a true State, the prevailing philosophy is
monist and dogmatic.
This is what explains why in the parliamentary political societies of
the West philosophy is regarded as a soulful supplement whose prerog-
ative it is to correct the regulated objectivity of opinions, an objectivity
that is that of the laws of the market and nancial capital, and on which
a strong consensus is built. Meanwhile, the volontarist and police-like
CONDITIONS
170
prerogatives of the political societies of the East were cast in the false
necessity of a state philosophy dialectical materialism.
In essence, Right comprises a sort of centre of symmetry, which
disposes an alternation between the two terms of State (when it is
presumed to concentrate politics) and philosophy. When right that is,
the force of the rule is presented as a central category of politics, the
parliamentary state or that is parties-State, is indifferent to philosophy.
Conversely, when the bureaucratic state, of the party-state, advocates a
philosophy, in which its legitimacy is to reside, it will assuredly be a state
of non-right. This inversion is the formalization, through the couple
state/philosophy, of the contrary relations that the statement politics is
realized in the state entails as to the couple politics/truth, depending of
whether the form of the state is pluralist and regulated, or unitary and
party-based. In the rst, the rule abolishes all truth of politics (dissolving
it in the arbitrariness of number voting), and in the other, the Party
declares that it holds the whole of the truth, and thereby becomes indif-
ferent to every circumstance that affects number, or the people.
Finally, opposed as the maxims are, the result of both impacts negatively
upon philosophy, which with the rst is engulfed in a pure supplement of
opinion, and with the second, in an entirely empty state formalism.
We can be still more precise. The submission of politics to the theme of
right entails that in parliamentary societies (i.e., societies regulated
according to the ultimate imperative of nancial capital) it becomes
impossible to distinguish the philosopher from the sophist. This effect of
indiscernibility is crucial: since, under the topic of right, philosophys
political condition is able to establish the rule as the essence of democratic
discussion, so it becomes impossible to contrast sophistical logomachy
(the virtuous game of conventions and powers) to philosophical dialectic
(the dialogical detour of the Truth). As a result, quite generally, any
old clever sophist may be deemed a profound philosopher, all the more
so since the denials by which he rejects claims to truth are homogenous
to the political condition as it is presented under the formal banner of
right. Conversely, in bureaucratic socialist societies it is impossible to dis-
tinguish the philosopher from the functionary, or even from the police-
man. The tendency is for philosophy to become nothing more than a
general proposition of the tyrant. As no rule acts to code argument, pure
assertion is placed in its stead, and ultimately it is the position of enunci-
ation (i.e., proximity to the state) that acts to validate philosophical
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
171
statements. Thereby, any old state apparatchik or leader can pass for a
philosophical oracle, since the place from which he speaks, that is, the
party-state, is regarded as the point in which the whole political process
of truth is concentrated.
It can therefore be argued that the effect common to regimes for which
politics is embodied in a paradigmatic subset of the multiple-nation and to
those that disseminate it in the reign of the rule is an effect of indiscern-
ibility between philosophy and its rival doubles: on the one hand, the
eclectic sophist; on the other, the dogmatic tyrant. Whether politics holds
right as its organic category, or whether, in the name of the sense of His-
tory, it denies it any validity, the impact upon philosophy is one of indis-
tinction, and ultimately of usurpation: it is the inaugural adversaries of
the identity of philosophy, the sophist and the tyrant, or even the journal-
ist and the policeman, that are declared philosophers on the public stage.
Every launching (envoi) of a politics signals an invention of thought,
one that is immediately exposed to the hazardous effects of its rootedness
in an event. Philosophy exists on the sole condition of this launching
inasmuch as it, through seizing a truth that proceeds in it, makes this
precariousness a dimension of eternity. Right, the Law, the State of Right,
human rights are not part of any inventions today, and there is nothing
in them to be philosophically seized. So, the effort that various political
philosophies have engaged in, to inject sense into the non-sense in
which capitalo-parliamentarism deploys its non-truth, is a sophistic exer-
cise that plays, for the philosopher, the simple role of a temporal marker
and an adversity to be braved. We must be contemporaneous with its
exercise. But there is no question of our becoming it is rather what they
guard us from, these professors who set a negative example purveyors
of sense taken into the site of non-truth, or hermeneuts of state.
11. REASONS FOR WHICH THE WORD COMMUNITY IS
(PROVISIONALLY?) UNSUITABLE FOR PHILOSOPHICALLY SEIZING
THE CONTEMPORARY STATE OF EMANCIPATORY POLITICS
The contemporary avatar of the return to right and its counterpart, the
return to ethics, situated as exercises in sense in the absence of all truth,
enjoins us to advocate, on a philosophical level, the return of politics and
CONDITIONS
172
its counterpart, the open rupture (libre rupture), as stakes of the seizing of
truth in the absence of all sense.
Yet it is very important to say that community, even with the joint
precautions concerning its inoperability and its coming, represents the
truth of the collective as the exposition of a sense. I therefore think it dif-
cult to submit it as the philosophical name of the short traces of political
truth to which our situation can still bear witness.
Moreover, community today is one of the names used in reactionary
forms of politics. Every day I take a stand politically against the diverse
forms of communitarism by which the parliamentary state seeks to divide
and delimit latent popular zones from their inconsistency. In the use of
expressions such as the Arab community, the Jewish community or the
protestant community, I see merely national, or even religious reaction.
They are as many substantialist propositions that a political delity must
imperatively undo. For what matters to us are not differences but truths.
Last, community perpetuates sense, under the embrace of nitude.
The coming forth of the collective in its own limits, the mortality of its
assumption, the nostalgic echo of the Greek polis as a site of thought that
is exposed: all that is there in the word community.
Yet there is a philosophical statement that, in my view, gives shelter and
welcome to what is most precious in a contemporary politics of emanci-
pation. This is a statement that class logic and class antagonism had itself
concealed in a sort of dialectical nitude. This statement is: the situations
of politics are innite. I would even say that, insofar as there is and there
will be a post-MarxistLeninist emancipatory politics, its purpose will be
to treat exactly this point by which it will take all its distance with regard
to the State that is to say, the ontological innity of situations.
Community seems to me unable to stand as the name for this pro-
cessing of the innite.
13. TAKE EQUALITY AS ELEMENTARY, AND DEVELOP
IT IN A RIGOROUS LOGIC OF THE SAME
My conviction is that the best word for today is the old one of equality.
It is important to be rigorous here. Equality as such is not to be taken
as political name. Politics is given in always singular statements in
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
173
situation, and there can be no question that would amount to a
suture of saying that it consists in a desire for equality. But equality
can be a philosophical name for the compossibilization of emancipatory
politics. Because equality neither designates nor presumes the advent of
a totality. And because it has been possible ever since Cantor to think
equality in the element of the innite.
14
The obvious objection to this is that it would have us tarry with the
triad of libertyfraternityequality, the framework in which the French
Revolution was philosophically seized. Quite so, for what we must
recognize is that the era that was thus begun is not yet philosophically
saturated. The temporal arch of philosophy does not coincide with any
of the temporalities proper to its conditions, and no more so with politi-
cal temporality than with any of the others. It turns out that the capacity
of seizing inherent to the terms liberty, equality and fraternity remains
intact, and that, in a recurrent fashion, philosophical polemic circulates
between them.
Today, the concept of freedom contains no immediate value for seizing
because it is ensnared in liberalism, in the doctrine of parliamentary and
commercial freedoms. The word has been thoroughly besieged by opin-
ion. This demands, then, the reconstruction of a philosophical concept of
freedom through a point other than itself. A free use of the word free-
dom requires its subordination to other words.
15
The word fraternity has, for its part, been repeated and sublated by the
word community, whose destiny we have already discussed.
The word equality must be secured in the absence of any economic
connotations (equality of objective conditions, of status and of opportu-
nity). Its subjective trenchancy must be restored: equality is something
that opens onto a strict logic of the Same. Its advantage, then, lies in
its abstraction. Equality neither presumes closure, nor qualies the terms
it embraces, nor prescribes a territory for its exercise. Equality is imme-
diately prescriptive, and the current resolve to denounce its utopian
character is a good sign, a sign that the word has recovered its force of
rupture.
Lets say, then, that the philosophical embrace of emancipatory politics
is to be carried out through the name of a radical politics of equality.
Admittedly, this word would not include within it the theme of the
social, or of redistribution, and less still that of solidarity, or State solici-
tude for differences. Equality here is a purely philosophical name. It is
CONDITIONS
174
unhitched from every programme. It essentially designates this: only a
politics that can, in philosophy, be named an egalitarian politics entitles
one to turn towards the eternal of the contemporary times in which this
politics proceeds. When no politics of the sort exists, when the reign of
capitalo-parliamentarism encompasses the totality of the situation, our
time is of no real value, and cannot survive its exposure to the eternal
return.
The whole difculty lies, once again, in subtracting the philosophical
concept of equality from the economism that saturates it. At issue here is
not the rich and poor, even if the existence of the rich and poor has since
the Greeks (Aristotle sees in it the root of the intrinsically pathological
character of real politics) been the matter of a sort of abstract scandal.
In philosophical terms, it shall instead be said that the destination of
politics, when, under the concept of equality, philosophy seizes it and
exposes it to eternity, is not difference or sovereignty but the authority of
the Same.
That philosophy can receive contemporary political truths under the
name of equality essentially means that if communism exists, then it can
only be a communism of singularities. And, further, that no one singu-
larity can have any entitlement that would render it unequal to any
other. This can also be said: the essence of a truth is generic,
16
that is, is
without any differential trait that would allow it to be placed in a hierar-
chy on the basis of a predicate. And again: equality signies that, from
the vantage point of politics, what is presented has no need of being
interpreted. What presents itself must be received in the nondescript
nature and the egalitarian anonymity of its presentation as such. What
presents itself in politics falls under what Alberto Caeiro, one of Pessoas
heteronyms, calls a thing. A thing is something that presents itself
without being represented. A thing is not even representable in its differ-
ence. A thing allows no purchase for the interpretation of its difference;
it is, very precisely, the same as every other. The same does not mean
that it can be identied under the element that singles out its predicate.
A thing, in Caeiros sense, has no need of belonging to a totality that can
be qualied or differentiated as the same as another. La chose politique, or
for politics, is outside the dialectic of the same and the other. It is the
same without other; it presents itself as the same of the same. Neither is
there any transcendent register such as Man or humanity from which
the political thing would take a rule for identifying the same. In politics,
PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICS
175
things are entirely different: humanity exists only to the extent and in
the precise measure that the same exists, the thing as same, which is also
what Jean-Luc Nancy would call the thing itself,
17
and that is such that,
under political prescription, it is its sameness itself.
I agree with Lacoue-Labarthes radical thesis according to which
Nazism was a humanism.
18
Since what Nazism actively did was to subor-
dinate politics to a preliminary identication of man, of authentic man,
of a man whose being only comes from difference and who embarks on
his story by annihilating his subhuman, or differently human, other.
Nazism is the criminal paroxysm of the dialectic of the same and the
other, and it is impossible to decide whether it proceeds on the basis of a
fanatical attention to the other or of a substantialist, culturalist and pred-
icative conception of the same. Nazism teaches us where we are led
when preliminary attention hones in on identity and difference, on ter-
ritorial, racial and national communitarism, and on the living substance
of the other. No dialectic, not even an anti-dialectic of the other, can
avoid as Hegel taught us once and for all the gures of death and
slavery. We cannot emerge from this by inverting the signs and delicately
promoting respect for the other and differences. It is pointless to contrast
the dark humanism of Nazism, which raises the deadly gures of Man
to the summits of the State, with its elegiac and Western obverse, the
well-off humanism of love for the other and respect of difference. No less
foreign to thought is the cultural, the heavy sociological, idea of the
impenetrable and respectable multiplicity of cultures. In politics, the
thing itself is a-cultural, as is every thought and every truth. Comic,
purely comic, is the theme of cultural politics, as is the theme of a politi-
cal culture. Contrary to the other, the same in its sameness is in no need
of cultivation.
Philosophically named, an emancipatory politics comes within an anti-
humanism of the same. And it is from this anti-humanism, through
which the same is supported only by the void of all difference in which
to ground Man, that humanity issues. Humanity, prior to the real forms
of egalitarian politics, simply does not exist, either as collective, or as
truth, or as thought.
It is of this absolute same, that is prior to every idea of humanity, and
out of which humanity issues: politics deals with the coming to light of
the collective as truth of the same. This is why it excludes all interpreta-
tion, since, as the Parmenides translated by Beaufret said, the Same, is
CONDITIONS
176
at once to think and to be. To think and to be, but not sign and interpre-
tation. Which is to say again that the thought of the same and in the
act relating it to the collective politics is such a thinking excludes all
hermeneutics of sense. Politics will be received by philosophy under the
sign of the equal insofar as, attached to the void of the equal accepting
that a truth has no sense, not even an historical sense, that is, the dona-
tion of a sense to History it also afrms that, as Caeiro puts it: to be a
thing is to be subject to no interpretation.
Part V
Philosophy and Love
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179
CHAPTER ELEVEN
What is Love?
1. THE SEXES AND PHILOSOPHY
It has been claimed that philosophy as a will to systematization was edi-
ed by foreclosing sexual difference. It is true that, from Plato up to and
including Nietzsche, the parts where this will makes an attempt to work
this word into a concept are not the most consistent ones. But does this
word have such a vocation? And does the word man, relieved of its
generic consignment and delivered to sexuation, fare any better? Ought
we conclude on this basis that philosophy indeed indifferenciates sexual
difference? I believe nothing of the sort. There are too many indications
to the contrary, provided one is aware that the ruse of such a difference,
which is certainly subtler than that of Reason, makes the most of the fact
that this difference foregrounds neither the word woman nor the word
man. If only because it is philosophically admissible to transpose onto
the sexes what Jean Genet said of races. He asked what a Negro was,
adding: And rst of all, what colour is he (or she)? When asked what a
man or a woman is, it would be a matter of legitimate philosophical pru-
dence to ask: And rst of all, what sex is he or she? For we must admit
that the initial obscurity is indeed the question of sex, whereas sexual
difference can only be thought after paying the price of a laborious deter-
mination of the identity that sex sets to work.
Let us add that contemporary philosophy is, as we see everyday,
addressed to women. It might even be suspected, and I lay myself open
to this, of engaging, as discourse, in strategies of seduction.
CONDITIONS
180
All things considered, philosophy touches upon the sexes by means of
love, to such an extent that it is indeed to Plato that a Lacan had to look
for the means by which thought can gain hold over transferential love.
At this point, however, a more serious objection arises: bar precisely
the Platonic inauguration, the genuine things that have been said about
love before psychoanalysis rattled its notion have been said in the
order of art, and more singularly in the art of novelistic prose. The
coupling of art and the novel is essential. It is also clear that women have
excelled in this art, that they have given it a critical impetus. Madame De
La Fayette, Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, Katherine Manseld and many
others. And, before all of them, writing in an eleventh century unimagi-
nable for Western barbarians, there was Lady Murasaki Shikibu, the
author of a key text in which what can be said about love in its mascu-
line dimension is set out, The Tale of Genji.
May I not be instantly accused of having performed the classic move of
conning women to the effects of sublimated passion and the dimension
of narrative. To begin with, I will argue that the signifying link between
women and love is of interest to humanity as a whole, and even legiti-
mates its concept. More, I clearly acknowledge that women excel, and
will continue to, in all domains, and are capable of re-establishing the
eld of every domain. The only problem, which is also one for men, is to
know under which conditions, and what the price to pay for it is. Last,
I consider novelistic prose to be an art of redoubtable, abstract complex-
ity, and its masterpieces to be among the highest attestations of what,
transxed and constituted by truth, a subject is capable of.
From what point is it possible to observe the couplings of truth proce-
dures such as the one that, as I said, exists between passion and the
novel? From a place in which it so happens that love and art crossover or
are compossible in time. This place is philosophy.
The word love here then shall be construed as a category of philoso-
phy, something that is perfectly legitimate, as we see in the status
accorded to eros in Plato.
The relation that this category maintains to love as it occurs in psycho-
analysis at the point of transference, for example will no doubt remain
problematic. I have adopted an implicit rule of external coherence:
Specic as it is, make sure the philosophical category remains compati-
ble with the analytic concept. I shall not here, however, be able to enter
into the details of that compatibility.
WHAT IS LOVE?
181
The relation that this category has the revelations of the art of the
novel is going to remain indirect. Let us say that the general logic of love,
as it is seized in the crack (faille) between (universal) truth and (sexu-
ated) forms of knowledge, shall then be put to the test of singular c-
tions. The rule this time is one of subsumption: Ensure the philosophical
category admits of the great love stories in the same way a syntax does
its semantic elds.
Finally, the relationship of the category of love to common evidences
(because love is the truth procedure that, as compared with art, science or
politics, although not necessarily the most common, is the most often pro-
posed) is one of juxtaposition. There is a common sense from which depar-
ture cannot be taken without producing certain comic effects. This rule is
stated: Paradoxical as its consequences are, ensure that the category
remains in keeping with amorous intuition as it is socially bestowed.
2. OF SOME DEFINITIONS OF LOVE THAT WILL
NOT BE RETAINED
Philosophy, or a philosophy, establishes its place of thought by making
objections and declarations. In general, objections are made to sophists, and
declarations about the existence of truths. In the case concerning us here
the following objections are seen.
1. An objection against the fusional conception of love. Love is not
that which from a Two taken as structurally given creates a One of
ecstasy. This objection is tantamount to an objection against being-
for-death, for the ecstatic One can be inferred to be beyond the
Two only as a suppression of the multiple. It is from the latter that we
owe all the metaphors of night, of the obstinate sacralizing of the
encounter, of the terror inicted by the world. Wagners Tristan and
Isolde in my categories, I call this a gure of disaster, as it is related
to the generic amorous procedure. The disaster here is not even a
disaster of love; it harks to a philosopheme, the philosopheme of
the One.
2. An objection against the oblative conception of love. Love does
not involve prostrating the Same before the alter of the Other.
I will argue that love is not even an experience of the other, but an
CONDITIONS
182
experience of the world, or of the situation, under the postevental
condition that there are Two. My aim is to subtract Eros from every
dialectic of the Eteros.
3. An objection against the superstructural or illusory conception
of love, so dear to the pessimistic tradition of French moralists. By
this I mean the conception for which love is only ever an orna-
mental semblance via which the real of sex passes. Lacan came
close to this idea on occasion as when, for example, he said that
love is something that compensates for the lack of sexual relation-
ship. But he also said the opposite as when, for example, he
endowed love with an ontological vocation, that of giving access to
being (abord de ltre). The point here is that, as I also believe, love
does not compensate for anything. Love supplements, and that is
something altogether different. Love can only consist in failure
(ratage) on the fallacious assumption that it is a relationship. But it
is not. It is a production of truth. The truth of what? The truth that
the Two, not only the One, proceeds in the situation.
3. DISJUNCTION
I come now to the declarations, which are my attempt at an axiomatics
of love. Why have I chosen this manner of proceeding? On the basis
of an essential conviction, for which, moreover, there are already argu-
ments in Plato: love is by no means given in the immediate consciousness of the
loving subject. The relative poverty of all that philosophers have said about
love, I am convinced, is because they have come at it either through
either psychology or a theory of passions. But even though it involves
the erring ways and torments of those in love, love does not by any
means present its own identity in these experiences. Conversely, becom-
ing subjects of love depends on the identity of love itself. Let us say that
love is a process that arranges immediate experiences of the like, without
the law of these experiences being decipherable from within them.
We might also say: the experience of the loving subject, as the matter of
love, does not constitute any knowledge of love. This is in fact a distinct
feature of the amorous procedure (by contrast to science, art or politics):
the thought that constitutes love is not the thought of itself. As an
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183
experience of thought, love does not think itself (simpense). A familiarity
with love certainly demands that the power of love has been experi-
enced, and especially the power of its thinking. But it is also intransitive
to that power.
All the pathos of passion, of error, of jealousy, of sex and of death must
therefore be held at a distance. No theme requires more pure logic than
that of love.
My rst thesis is the following:
1. There are two positions of the experience of love. Experience is construed
in its broadest sense as the presentation as such of the situation. And
there are two presentative positions. We can agree that these two posi-
tions are sexuated, and to call one woman, and the other man. The
approach thus far is strictly nominalist: no empirical, biological or social
distribution is acceptable here.
The fact that there will have been two positions can only be established
retroactively. It is in effect love, and love alone, that permits us to state
formally the existence of the two positions. Why? On the basis of a
second, really fundamental thesis, according to which:
2. The two positions are totally disjunct. Totally should be taken here very
literally: nothing in the experience is the same from the position of man or
from that of woman. Nothing. This means: the positions do not divide the
experience between them; there is not one presentation allocated to woman
and another to man, and then zones of overlap or intersection between
them. Everything is presented in such a way that no coincidence can be
attested between what affects one position and what affects the other.
I will call this state of things a disjunction. Sexed positions are disjunct
as regards experience in general.
The disjunction is not observable; it cannot be the object of an experi-
ence or of an immediate piece of knowledge. This is because all such
experiences or kinds of knowledge are themselves positioned within the
disjunction and will never encounter anything attesting to the other
position.
Were it possible to have any knowledge of the disjunction, that is,
structural knowledge, a third position would be required. That would
rule out the third thesis:
3. There is no third position. The idea of a third position engages the
function of the imaginary: this involves the angel. The discussion about
CONDITIONS
184
the sex of angels is crucial insofar as what is at issue in it is the announce-
ment of the disjunction. However, this can only be done from the vantage
point of experience, or of the situation.
What makes it possible here for me, then, to announce this disjunc-
tion, that is, without having recourse to any angel, without acting as an
angel? It is the requirement that the situation, which is not adequate in
itself, is supplemented. Not by a third structural position but by a singu-
lar event. This event is what initiates the amorous procedure, and we
might agree to call it an encounter.
4. CONDITIONS FOR THE EXISTENCE OF HUMANITY
Before we do this, however, we must, so to speak, let ourselves be carried
way by the other extremity of the problem. This is the fourth thesis:
4. There is only one humanity. What does humanity signify in a non-
humanist sense? The term cannot be grounded in any objective predica-
tive trait. That would make it into something ideal or empirical, and in
any case inappropriate. By humanity I mean that which provides
support to the generic or truth procedures. There are four types of
such procedures: science, politics, art and precisely love. Humanity
can be attested if and only if there is (emancipatory) politics, (concep-
tual) science, (creative) art and love (not reduced to a mix of sentimental-
ity and sexuality). Humanity is what sustains the innite singularity
of truths that fall within these types. Humanity is the historical body
of truths.
Let us designate H(x) the humanity function. This abbreviation indi-
cates that whatever the term presented, it is supported by at least one
generic procedure. An axiom of humanity indicates this: if a term x (let
us say, in echo of the prevailing Kantianism, a noumenal human = x) is
active, or more precisely activated as Subject, in a generic procedure, then
it attests that the humanity function exists, as far as it admits this term x
as an argument.
I insist on the point that the existence of humanity, that is, the effec-
tiveness of its function, arises at a point x that a truth in process activates
as the local verifying that is the subject. In this sense, indeterminate xs
constitute the domain, or the virtuality, of the humanity function, and as
WHAT IS LOVE?
185
far as a truth procedure transxes them, the humanity function localizes
them in its turn. It is undecidable as to whether it is the term x that
brings into being the humanity function that takes it as an argument, or
whether it is the function that humanizes the term x. This incertitude is
suspended in the initiatory events of truth, of which the term x is a
faithful operator (it is the same for whoever undergoes the tremendous
duration that an encounter initiates as love: it falls to he or she to be,
thereof famous solitude of lovers is a metonymy, localized as a proof that
Humanity exists).
The term H as such (let us say: substantive humanity) appears as a
virtual mixture of those four types of truth: politics (x militant), science
(x scientist), art (x poet, painter, etc.) and love (x, elevated in disjunc-
tion by Two lovers). The term H creates a knot of the four. As we shall
see, the presentation of this knot is at the core of the disjunction between
the positions of man and woman, in their relation to truth.
So, our fourth thesis, according to which there is only one humanity,
comes to signify this: every truth is valid for all of its historical body.
A truth, and it does not matter which one, is always indifferent to the
predicative distribution of its support.
To make this point clearer, we could say that all terms x, as noumenal
variables of the Humanity function, comprise a homogeneous class, one
that is based on no other distribution than that induced by the subjective
activations initiated by an event and thought through in a faithful
procedure.
In particular, a truth is as such subtracted from every position. A truth
is trans-positional. It is, moreover, the only thing that is, and this is why a
truth shall be said to be generic. In Being and Event, I attempted to set out
an ontology of this adjective.
5. LOVE AS THE TREATMENT OF A PARADOX
If we relate the consequences of the fourth thesis to the rst three, we
get a precise formulation of the problem now at hand: if there exist at
least two positions, that is, man and woman, that are radically disjunct
as regards experience in general, how can a truth come to be for all, or
trans-positional?
CONDITIONS
186
We might expect the rst three theses to entail the following statement:
truths are sexuated. In other words, that there is a feminine science and
a masculine science, just as once it was thought that there was a prole-
tarian science and a bourgeois science. That there is a feminine art and a
masculine art, a feminine political vision and a masculine political vision,
and a feminine love (strategically homosexual, as certain feminist orien-
tations have rigorously afrmed) and a masculine love. Obviously we
might add that even if this were this the case, it would be impossible to
know it.
But this is not the case in the space of thought I am trying to establish.
I would like at once to posit the radicality of the disjunction, that is, the
absence of any third position, and the idea that, as subtracted from every
positional disjunction, the occurrence of truth is nevertheless generic.
Love is exactly the place where this paradox is dealt with.
Let us take the measure of this statement. First up, it means that love is
an operation articulated around a paradox. Love does not relieve the par-
adox; it treats it. More precisely, it makes the truth of the paradox itself.
The famous curse according to which the two sexes will die each on
their own side is actually a non-paradoxical or apparent law of things. If
we leave aside the evental supplement and therefore pure chance, and
remain with situations themselves, the two sexes never cease to die each on
their own side. What is more, under the injunctions of Capital, which
could not give a g about sexual difference, social roles are in-discrimi-
nated; the more the disjunctive law is stripped away, bereft of protocol
or mediation, the more the sexes, almost undifferentiated, nevertheless
die each on their own side. For this now invisible side is all the more
binding, as it is reected in the total character of the disjunction. The
staging of sexual roles, the registering of every term x into one of two
supposed classes, lets say the hx and the fx, is in no way an expression of
the disjunction; it is only a makeover or a cover-up (maquillage), an
obscure mediation administered by all sorts of respective rites and rules
of etiquette (protocoles dabord). But Capital is much better suited by there
being only xs. Our societies, from thereon in, un-cover up (dmaquillent)
the disjunction, which again becomes invisible, and void of any mediat-
ing display. Through here the sexuated positions comes to pass in their
apparent indiscernibility, which lets pass the disjunction as disjunction.
This is a situation in which everyone feels as if it would kill the potential
WHAT IS LOVE?
187
humanity in him or her, the seizing of that x that one is through a
veracious delity.
Love is then itself exposed in its function of resistance to the law of
being. We begin to see that, far from naturally regulating the supposed
relation between the sexes, love is what makes truth of their un-binding
(d-liaison).
6. LOVE AS THE SCENE OF TWO FORMS THE TRUTH OF THE
DISJUNCTION AND GUARANTEES THE ONE OF HUMANITY
To understand this determination of love, and therefore to establish it as
something that is ever renewed in thought as the poet Alberto Caeiro
put it to love is to think we must return to the question of the disjunc-
tion. To say that it is total, to say that there is no neutral position of
observation or third position, is to say that the two positions cannot be
counted as two. Were it possible to count them, where could it be done?
The two is not presented as such except in the three, in which is it pre-
sented as an element of the three.
We must carefully distinguish love from the couple. The couple is what,
of love, is visible to a third. The couple is therefore a two counted in a situ-
ation where there is a third. But no matter who it is, the third in question
does not embody a disjunct or third position. As such the two it counts is
an indifferent two, a two that is entirely external to the Two of the disjunc-
tion. The phenomenal appearance of the couple, which is submitted to an
external law of count, does not say anything about love. The couple names
not love but the state (or the State) of love. It names not the presentation
but the representation of love. It is not for loves sake that there are two
counted from the vantage point of the third. In matters of love, the three
is not (nest pas), and the Two is subtracted from every count.
If the three does not exist, the rst thesis must be otherwise stated.
Strictly speaking, it is better to say:
6b. There is one position and another position. There is one and one,
which do not make two, as the one of each one is indiscernible, although
totally disjunct, from the other. In particular, neither position includes the
experience of the other, as this would amount to internalizing the two.
CONDITIONS
188
It is precisely this latter point that has always constituted the major
deadlock for phenomenological approaches to love: since, if love is
consciousness of the other as other, then the other is necessarily identi-
able in consciousness as the same. Otherwise, how are we to under-
stand that consciousness, which is the site of the identication of self as
the same-as-self, might welcome or experience the other as such?
Phenomenology is thus left with two options:
Either it can weaken alterity. In my language, this means that it
detotalizes the disjunction and in fact reduces the schism man/
woman to a division of the human, in which sexuation disappears
as such;
Or it can annihilate identity. This was the Sartrean way: conscious-
ness is nothingness, and it is not its own position; it is conscious-
ness (of) self, non-thetic consciousness of self. But, in the severity
of this pure transparency, we know what love becomes for
Sartre: an inescapable oscillation between sadism (turn the other
into an in-itself) and masochism (turn oneself into an in-itself for
the other). This means that the Two is only a machination of
the One.
To maintain at once both the disjunction and the there is of its truth,
it is necessary to set out from love as a process, and not from amorous
consciousness.
I will thus posit that love is precisely this: the advent of the Two as
such, the scene of Two.
Care is required here: this scene of the Two is not a being of the Two,
since that presupposes the three. This scene of the Two is work, a pro-
cess. It only exists as a trajectory in the situation, under the supposition that
there are Two. The Two is the hypothetical operator of an aleatoric enquiry,
of such work, or such a trajectory.
The advent (ad-venue) of the hypothesis of a Two is evental in origin.
The event is that hazardous supplement we call an encounter. The
eventencounter only consists in the form of its disappearance, of its
eclipse. It is xed only through a naming, and this naming constitutes a
declaration, the declaration of love. The name it declares is drawn from
the void of the site from which the encounter draws the little bit of being
of its supplementation.
WHAT IS LOVE?
189
What is the void summoned here by the declaration of love? It is the
void un-known of the disjunction. The declaration of love puts into
circulation in the situation a term drawn from the null interval, a term
that disjoins the positions man and woman. I love you brackets side by
side two pronouns, a you and an I, that cannot be bracketed side by
side as soon as they are referred to the disjunction. The declaration nom-
inally xes the encounter as that whose being resides in the void of the
disjunction. A Two that proceeds amorously is specically the name of
the disjunct as apprehended in its disjunction.
Love is the interminable delity to a rst naming. It is a material pro-
cedure that re-evaluates the totality of experience, passing fragment by
fragment through the whole situation, according to its connection or
disconnection with the nominal hypothesis of the Two.
This yields the specic numerical schema of the amorous procedure.
What this schema expresses is that the Two fractures the One and meets
with (prouve) the innity of the situation. Such is the numericity of the
amorous procedure: One, Two, Innity. This numericity structures the
becoming of a generic truth. Of what is it the truth? Of the situation such
as two disjunct positions exist in it. Love is nothing other than an exacting
series of enquiries into the disjunction, into the Two, which, in the retro-
action of the encounter, turns out to have always been one of the laws
of the situation.
From the moment that a truth of the situation proceeds as disjunct, it
also becomes clear why every truth is addressed to everyone and guar-
antees the uniqueness of the humanity function H(x) in its effects. For,
as soon as it is grasped in truth, it immediately re-establishes that there
is only one situation. One situation, and not two. It is a situation in which
this disjunction is not a form of being but a law. Truths are without
exception all truths of this situation.
Love is that site where the disjunction happens not to separate the
situation in its being. Or where the disjunction is effectively a law and
not a substantial delineation. That is the scientic aspect of the amorous
procedure.
Love fractures the One in accordance to the Two. And it is on this basis
that it can be thought that, although worked over by the disjunction, the
situation is exactly as if there is a One, and that it is through this One-
multiple that all truth is assured.
CONDITIONS
190
In our world, love is the guardian of the universality of the true. It eluci-
dates the possibility of universality, because it makes truth of the disjunction.
However, what is the cost of doing so?
7. LOVE AND DESIRE
As a post-evental hypothesis, the Two must be materially marked. The
primary referents of its name have to be given. These referents, as we are
all aware, are bodies, insofar as they are marked by sexuation. The dif-
ferential trait that bodies bear inscribes the Two in its naming. The sexual
is linked to the amorous procedure as the advent of the Two, in the two-
fold occurring of a name of the void (the declaration of love) and a mate-
rial disposition (restricted to bodies as such). The amorous operator is
composed of both a name drawn from the void of the disjunction and
a differential marking of bodies.
This question of the advent of bodies in love must be carefully circum-
scribed, because it necessarily entails the severance of love and desire.
Desire is captive to its cause, a cause that is not the body as such, and
still less the other as subject, but that is an object the body bears, an
object before which the subject, in its fantasmatic framing, comes forth
(advenir) in its own disappearing. Love obviously comes within the dele
of desire but it does not have the object of desire as its cause. The supposition
of the Two activated by love, which marks bodies qua materiality, can
neither elude the object cause of desire, nor arrange itself with it. This is
because love treats bodies from the bias of a disjunctive naming, whereas
desire relates to them as it does to the principle of being specic to a
divided subject.
Love is therefore always in the quandary if not of the sexual then of
the object that wanders there. Love ts through desire like a camel
through the eye of a needle. It must pass through it, but only insofar as
bodies in their keenness restitute the material markings of the disjunc-
tion, by which the declaration of love realizes the interior void.
Let us say that love does not deal with the same body as desire, even
as this body is precisely the same.
In the night of bodies, love attempts to expand, to the extent of the
disjunction, the always particular character of the object of desire.
WHAT IS LOVE?
191
It attempts to overcome the limitations of stubborn narcissism by estab-
lishing (but it can only do so by rst being limited to the object) that this
body-subject is in the descent of an event, that, before the brilliance of
the object of desire was unveiled there, this body (as supernumerary
emblem of a truth to come) was encountered.
Furthermore, it is only in love that bodies have the purpose of marking
the Two. The body of desire is the corpus delicti, the delicti of the self. It
secures the One in the guise of the object. Only love marks the Two by a
sort of letting-go (d-prise) of the object, a letting-go that proceeds only
because there was a hold exercised over it in the rst place.
First, it is at the point of desire that love fractures the One in order that
the Two occur in supposition.
Although there is something ridiculous about it its smacks of a
Church father credo it must be assumed that differential sexual traits
attest to the disjunction only when conditioned by the declaration of
love. Outside this condition, there is no Two, and sexual marking is held
within the disjunction, without being able to attest it. To put it somewhat
bluntly: any sexual unveiling of bodies that is non-amorous is masturba-
tory in the strict sense; it has only to do with a position in its interiority.
This is, moreover, no judgement, only a simple delineation, because
masturbatory sexual activity is a fully reasonable activity in each of the
disjunct sexuated positions. Further, one is (retroactively) assured that
there is nothing commonly shared in this activity when one passes but
can one pass? from one position to another.
Only love exhibits the sexual as a gure of the Two. It is therefore also
the place where it is stated that there are two sexuated bodies and not
only one. The amorous unveiling of the bodies is the proof that, under
the unique name of the void of the disjunction, the marking of the dis-
junction itself is happening. This, which under its name is a faithful pro-
cedure of truth, conducts an investigation into having always been
radically disjunct.
But this sexuated attestation of the disjunction under the post-evental
name of its void does not abolish the disjunction. What is at stake is sim-
ply to force its truth. It is therefore quite true that there is no sexual rela-
tionship, because what love founds is the Two and not a relationship
between the Ones in a Two. The two bodies do not present the two
which would require there be three, an outside-sex they do no more
than mark it.
CONDITIONS
192
8. THE UNITY OF AMOROUS TRUTH SEXUATED
CONFLICT OF KNOWLEDGES
This point is very delicate. What it requires is that we understand love
makes truth of the disjunction under the emblem of the Two, but also
that it does so within the indestructible element of the disjunction.
As unpresented, the Two is what proceeds in the situation as the com-
plex of a name and a corporal marking. It serves to evaluate the situation
through laborious enquiries, including enquiries into the thing that is
both its accomplice and its misunderstanding: desire. Sexuality, but also
living together, social representation, outings, speech, work, trips away,
conicts, children all these constitute the materiality of the procedure,
the trajectory of the truth in the situation. Yet these operations do not
unify the partners. The Two proceeds as disjunct. There will have been a
single truth of love in the situation, but the procedure of this unicity
functions in the disjunction whose truth it makes.
The effects of this tension can be observed on two levels:
1. In the amorous procedure, where functions are grouped together
that work to redene the positions.
2. What the future of the one-truth authorizes by anticipation in
knowledge is sexuated. Or again: foreclosed from truth, the posi-
tions return in knowledge.
The rst point leads me to refer to an essay of mine (the last one in this
book) that is based on the work of Samuel Beckett, The Writing of the
Generic. In it I establish that, for Beckett (which thereby brings me to
what has the function, in the prose novel, of thinking the thought of
love), the becoming of the amorous procedure demands there be the
following.
A function of wandering (lerrance), of randomness (ala) and of
chance voyage, which sustains the articulation of the Two and the
innite. This function works to expose the supposition of the Two
to the innite presentation of the world.
A function of motionlessness (immobilit), which guards, which holds
the premier naming, which ensures that the naming of the event
is not engulfed by the event itself.
WHAT IS LOVE?
193
A function of imperative: always continue, even within separation.
Take absence itself as a modality of continuation.
The narrative function, which, through a sort of archiving, inscribes
when and as needed the becoming-truth of wandering.
It is possible to show that the disjunction can be reinscribed within this
table of functions. Man I shall dene axiomatically as the amorous posi-
tion that couples imperative and motionlessness, and woman as the
position that couples wandering and narrative. These axioms readily
intersect with both crass and prcieux clichs: man is he (or she) who
does nothing, I mean nothing obvious for and in the name of love,
because he considers that once something is won it stays won without
having to be proved again. Woman is she (or he) who makes love voy-
age, and wants her word to be reiterated and renewed. Or, in the vocab-
ulary of conict: man is silent and violent; woman gossips and makes
demands (est revendicatif ). These are empirical matters relating to the
work involved in enquiring into love, for there to be truth.
The second point is more complex.
In the rst place, I shall object to the notion that it is possible, in love,
for each of the sexes to learn anything about the other. I do not think this
is at all correct. Love is an enquiry into the world from the vantage point
of the Two, and not at all an enquiry about each term of the Two about
the other. There is a real of the disjunction, which dictates precisely that
no subject can occupy both positions at the same time and in the same
respect. This impossibility lies at the site of love itself. It governs the
question of love as a place of knowledge: what it is that, on the basis of
love, can be known?
I shall now proceed to distinguish carefully between knowledge and
truth. Love produces a truth of the situation in such a way that the dis-
junction is constituted as law. The truth composed by love proceeds to
innity. The disjunction is therefore never completely presented. All
knowledge relative to this truth is formed in anticipation: if this truth that
can never be completed will have taken place, then what judgements
can be considered not true but veridical? That is the general form of
knowledge as conditioned by a generic- or truth-procedure. For techni-
cal reasons I call it forcing.
1
One can force knowledge through a general
hypothesis on the having-taken-place of a truth in process (en cours).
CONDITIONS
194
In the case of love, the process (en-cours) of truth bears on the disjunc-
tion. Each one can force certain knowledge about the sexuated disjunc-
tion from love through a hypothesis about its having-taken-place.
But the forcing occurs within the situation in which love proceeds.
If the truth in question is genuine, forcing, and therefore knowledge,
will be subject to the disjunction of positions. The knowledge man has
about love, on the basis of love, and the knowledge woman has, remain
disjunct. Or further: the veridical judgements that are made about the
Two, on the supposition that it began in an event, cannot coincide.
In particular, the forms of knowledge about sex are themselves irremedi-
ably sexuated. The two sexes do not ignore each other; they know verid-
ically in disjunct fashion.
Love is that scene in which a truth proceeds, a truth about the sexu-
ated positions through a conict of knowledges for which there can be
no compensation.
This is because truth is at the crux of the un-known (in-su). Knowl-
edges are veridical and anticipatory but disjunct. Formally, this disjunc-
tion is representable in the instance of the Two. The position man
supports the split of the Two, an in-between where the void of the dis-
junction is xed. The position woman makes the Two endure in wander-
ing. On a previous occasion, I put forward the following formula: mans
knowledge is made of judgements ordered around the nothing of the
Two. And womans knowledge orders them around nothing but the Two.
I might add here, then, that the sexuation of knowledge as regards love
disjoins:
1. the following veridical masculine statement: What will have been
true is that we were two and not at all one;
2. from the no less veridical feminine statement that: What will have
been true is that two we were, and that otherwise we were not.
The feminine statement targets being as such. That is her destination in
love, and it is ontological. The masculine statement targets the changing
of the number, the painful fracture (effraction) of the One by the supposi-
tion of the Two, and this is essentially logical.
The conict of knowledge in love shows that the One of a truth is also
exposed simultaneously as logical and as ontological. This point refers us
to the Book Gamma of Aristotles Metaphysics and to an admirable recent
commentary of it published by Vrin under the title The Decision of Sense.
WHAT IS LOVE?
195
The enigma of Aristotles text resides in the passage between the onto-
logical position of a science of being qua being and the crucial position of
the principle of identity as a purely logical principle. This passage, in
general, is no more frequented than the passage from the position of
women to that of man. In this commentary, the authors show that
Aristotle passes by force with the ardour of an intermediary style: that
pertaining to the refutation of sophists. Between the ontological position
and the logical position, all there is, is a medium of refutation. It is also
thus for each of the positions engaged in love, where the other position
only allows itself to be attained as if it were a sophistry to be refuted.
Who has not experienced the exhausting fatigue these refutations bring
about, which can ultimately be encapsulated in the deplorable syntagm
You dont understand me? We might say this is the enervated form of a
love declaration. To love well is to understand poorly.
I think it no matter of mere coincidence that this commentary on
Aristotle, which I have added to here in my own way, was written by a
woman, Barbara Cassin, and a man, Michel Narcy.
9. THE FEMININE POSITION AND HUMANITY
I might have concluded with these words. But I shall add a postscript to
return to where I left off.
The existence of love makes it retroactively appear that, in the disjunc-
tion, the position woman is singularly conveying of the relation between
love and humanity. That is, humanity as I conceive it, as the function
H(x) that creates an implicative knot out of the truth procedures
science, politics, art and love.
Yet another trivial clich, people will say. Woman is such as to think
only about love; woman is the being-for-love.
Let us take some courage to work through this clich.
I shall posit axiomatically that the woman position is such that the sub-
traction of love modies it with inhumanity for itself. Or further, that the
function H(x) can only take on value insofar as the amorous generic pro-
cedure exists.
This axiom signies that, for this position, the prescription for humanity
has value only to the extent that the existence of love has been attested.
CONDITIONS
196
We should note in passing that this attestation does not necessarily
take the form of an experience of love. It is possible to be seized by the
existence of a truth-procedure from an angle that is altogether different
to that of its experimentation. Here, too, we must guard against the least
psychologism: what matters is not any consciousness of love but that for,
the term x, the proof of its existence has been produced.
I shall posit that woman is that term x that, as noumenal virtuality of
the human and irrespective of its empirical sex, only activates the
humanity function on the condition of such a proof. Thus woman is she
(or he) for whom the particular subtraction of love devalorizes H(x) in its
other types, namely, science, politics and art. A contrario, the existence of
love deploys H(x) virtually in all of its types, especially the most con-
nected, or interlinked ones. This undoubtedly sheds light on providing
it is granted that the writing of romance novels has to do with a
feminized term x, which must be investigated womens excellence in
writing novels.
For the man position, things proceed differently: each type of proce-
dure by itself gives value to the H(x) function, without taking into
account the existence of the others.
I have thus progressively come to dene the words man and woman
through the point at which love cuts into the knot of the four types of
truth-procedure. And further, referred to the humanity function, sexual
difference can only be conceived (nest pensable) in the exercise of love
qua criterion of differentiation.
But if love, and love alone, makes truth of the disjunction how could it
be otherwise? Desire is unable to found the thought of the Two, since it is
in thrall to the demonstration of being-One that the object requires of it.
I further maintain that, independently of sexuation, desire is homo-
sexual, whereas love, as gay as it may be, is principally heterosexual.
The passing of love through desire I pointed earlier to its difcult
dialectic can further be stated as: to have the heterosexuality of love
pass through the homosexuality of desire.
At the end of the day, and regardless of the sex of those a love encounter
destines to a truth, woman and man only ever exist in the eld of love.
Let us briey return to Humanity. Stating that H is a virtual composi-
tion of the four types of truths also makes it possible to argue that, for
the woman position, love type knots the four together, and that it is only
as conditioned by love that H, that is, humanity, exists as a general
WHAT IS LOVE?
197
conguration. And that, for the male position, each type metaphorizes
the others, this metaphor meriting the immanent afrmation, in each
type, of humanity H.
This would result in the two schemas given in Figure 11.1.
These schemas clarify why the feminine representation of humanity is
at once conditional and knotting, which authorizes a more complete per-
ception and, should the case arise, a more direct right to inhumanity;
whereas the masculine representation of humanity is at once symbolic
and separative, which may incur some indifference, but also a greater
ability to conclude.
Are we dealing with a restricted conception of femininity here? Even
in a sophisticated form, does this clich not refer back to a schema of
domination that could be summarily put as: access to the symbolic and
the universal is more immediate for man? Or, let us say, is less dependent
on an encounter.
I could object by replying that the encounter is everywhere: every
generic procedure is postevental.
But the essential point lies elsewhere. The essential point is that love is,
as Ive said, the guarantee of the universal because it alone makes the
disjunction comprehensible as the simple law of a situation. That the value
of the humanity function H(x) is dependent, for the woman-position,
on the existence of love, can also be stated as: the woman-position
Ar.
Pol.
Sc.
Love.
H
sc.
met.
met.
love.
met.
met.
H
met.
met.
art
pol.
H according to woman H according to man
Figure 11.1
CONDITIONS
198
requires for H(x) a guarantee of universality. It knots the components of
H only under this condition. The woman-position is sustained in its sin-
gular relation to love so it can be clear that for every x, H(x), no matter
what the effects of the disjunction are (or disjunctions: since the sexual
disjunction is perhaps not the only one).
With this I have given the Lacanian formulas of sexuation an extra
turn of the screw. To put it very schematically: Lacan started with the
phallic function (x). He ascribed the universal quantier to man (for
every man), and dened woman through a combination of the existen-
tial and negation, which led him to say that woman is not-whole.
This position is in many respects classical. Hegel, proclaiming woman
the irony of the community, effectively indicated this effect at the border
of the existential by which a woman makes holes in the whole that men
strive to consolidate.
But such occurs as a strict effect of exercising the (x) function. The
most obvious outcome of what Ive just said is that the humanity function
H(x) does not coincide with the (x) function.
Regarding the function H(x), the feminine position in fact sustains its
universal totality, and the masculine position metaphorically dissemi-
nates the virtualities of Hs one-composition.
Love is that which, splitting H(x) from (x), returns to women, within
the complete range of truth procedures, the universal quantier.
Part VI
Philosophy and Psychoanalysis
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201
CHAPTER TWELVE
Philosophy and Psychoanalysis
I intervene among you as someone, like the Eleatic Stranger from the
Sophist, neither an analyst, nor an analysand, but an expatriate of a
memorable and precarious place, someone who comes at your invitation
put to your experience a doubting consideration.
Shall I, like the Stranger with regard to Parmenides, commit some sort
of speculative parricide? What makes me likely to do so is that being the
author of a Manifesto for Philosophy, I am no doubt placed as a son of phi-
losophy, lets say to be brief, as a son of Plato, a son of parricide. This
criminal heritage may determine a repeat-case. What shelters me from
doing so is no doubt the fact that I object to the sermon of today announc-
ing philosophys end, that I modestly claim to take a single step forward,
and thus that as the commonplace of todays thought is parricide, it is
lial respect that forms a gure of singularity.
But to which my proximity to you will lead or carry me, you your-
selves will be the judges.
The point that disposes philosophy and psychoanalysis is that of a
non-dialectical law of compossibility between a ressentiment whose
essence is seduction and a consent whose essence is reserve. I shall not
again go over the textual and empirical sources.
The question organizing this eld can be put as follows: what can we
suppose about the bias by which a truth touches being? I propose to
transform this question into another more precise but essentially identi-
cal question, which is: what is the localization of the void? For, we can,
I think, agree to say that it is on the basis of its suture to the void that
CONDITIONS
202
a text can support its claim to have other than a relation (rapport) to
realities or other than what Mallarm called a universal reporting.
We can agree in principle to repudiate doctrines of truth that posit a
relation of correspondence between mind or statement and thing. We
certainly cannot on this philosopher and the psychoanalyst are not
opposed contravene a major axiom of every poet, which is that every
thought emits a throw of the dice. Therewith thought exhibits between
itself and the continuity of the place the void of a suspended act. Mallarm
called this void, as you know, Chance. Chance supports what Lacan in
1960 called in a genuinely maximal expression the only absolute
statement, a statement made, he said, by someone of authority. This
statement, of course, is that no dice-throw in the signier will ever
abolish chance. Since this statement is absolute, and is the only absolute
statement; since it was made by that someone of authority Mallarm, it
shall be the statement cementing our pact throughout what I have to
say. You will allow me to translate it thus: thinking is made possible only
by the void that separates it from realities.
So the whole question is: where is the void localized? What is the place
of the void? If Mallarm brings us together and absolutizes the question,
this is because he contented himself with calling localization place. Void
is the essence of place, of every place; such that a truth, be it in his terms
a Constellation, cold with forgetting and desuetude, emerges only within
the spacing of an indeterminate place. A truth inscribes itself in the black
of the sky if the non-place of the dice throw, separative and undecidable,
blocks the repetition that in general determines that outside of thought
and act nothing takes place but the place.
We can also agree on the fact that philosophy and psychoanalysis
make no sense without a desire for something to take place other than
the place.
But philosophy and psychoanalysis each localize place differently. They
are regimes of experience and thought that are specic, each one of
which is subsumed by Mallarms absolute statement, and each one
of which is conceivable not from place in general, but from its own place,
a place xed in destiny by its specic foundation: Freudian for one,
Parmenidian for the other.
Yet these places are disjoint in their origins. The place at which philos-
ophy localizes the void as the condition of thought is being, qua being.
PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOANALYSIS
203
The place at which psychoanalysis localizes the void is the Subject, its
subject, the Subject as the unconscious that occupies the gap between
signiers in which the metonymy of its being proceeds.
Must we therefore end up in a disagreement and at an impasse?
In the seminar of 8 May 1973, Lacan explicitly stated that the place
that founds the truth has the manner of the void. This void is the
Big Other as hole: There is a hole there and that hole is called the
Other [. . .], the Other qua locus in which speech, being deposited [. . .]
founds truth. But what matters to us here is that this localization is
presented by way of contrast to the localization that Lacan attributes to
philosophy. There is a hole there: what is this there? What is this other
place where the hole that founds truth occurs? The there or other place
is a thought (une pense) that can be inferred from thinking (le penser).
That a thought exists that can be inferred from thinking amounts
precisely to the supposition that being thinks. Because, if thinking
(le penser) necessitates a place lled with a thought (une pense), the rea-
son is that being as such thinks. It is in the same place as this supposition
of a full thinking being (plein tre pensant) that Lacan localizes the foun-
dation of truth as hole.
Now this supposition, and therefore this other place in which the big
Other makes holes, is exactly the place of philosophy. And I quote: That
being is presumed to think is what founds the philosophical tradition
from Parmenides on.
Philosophy thus establishes the place of its specic void, namely, being
as the self-founding of thinking, at the place where psychoanalysis
also establishes its own but as a radical ex-centering of the opening
(troue) in which it originates that a truth can be the cause of a Subject.
The apparent identity of the place unknots, insofar as philosophy
localizes its void at the point of the Same, as in Parmenides declaration
that the Same, indeed is at once to think and to be; whereas it is at
the point of the Other that psychoanalysis makes holes in it, that it
de-supposes (dsuppose) the thought that philosophy infers from think-
ing (au penser). Hole of the Other or the nil gap of the Same: these instances
of the void, which are joined as to the place, are incommensurable.
We can nd no cause for consolation in the fact that Lacan immedi-
ately proceeded to concur with Heraclitus in opposition to Parmenides,
because for Heraclitus being is neither given nor hidden; it signies.
CONDITIONS
204
And because, in philosophy, this signifying gave rise to a tradition that
could not be further from psychoanalysis, and that is the tradition of
hermeneutics. It is better to keep up the disagreement than to confuse
philosophy with the interpretive custodianship of sacred texts.
If we move from thought and turn to the act, the situation is no
better. Under the name of Kant, philosophy this time determines the
void, that of practical reason, in the presupposition of the purely formal
character of Imperative. The Law is without content, and it is its being
evacuated of any assignable reference that constitutes it as command-
ment. The capital result is that philosophy postulates the void in signi-
cation. The moral meaning of the act lies in the universally presentable
nature of its signication, and the universality of signication is itself
grounded in the formal void of the Law.
In the seminar of 6 July 1960, Lacan contrasted this localization with
the three major premises of the Ethics of psychoanalysis:
First, the only thing of which one can be guilty is of having given
ground relative to ones desire.
Second, the ethical hero is the one who, having been betrayed,
shows no tolerance of betrayal, since any reparative tolerance of
betrayal rules on the side of the servicing of goods.
Third, genuine Good, that which dispenses no service, is what
serves to pay the price for access to desire, that is, to give access to
the metonymy of our being.
Where, then, do these three propositions localize the void?
The importance of betrayal cannot be underestimated. Because
by means of the act betrayal hollows out a point at which the peril of the
servicing of goods is uncovered. The void is precisely that gap, this dis-
covery of the servicing of goods, such as its scourge (plaie) is exposed in
betrayal, and through which, so as not to cede on our desire, the meton-
ymy of our being must pass at a premium price. If it does not pass
through this void proper, which at once reveals and makes an incision in
the reposeful massivity of the servicing of goods, the metonymy of our
being will forever be articulated with this servicing. Since, as Lacan said,
beyond this limit, there is no return .
A crucial consequence of this apparatus is that, this time, the void is
not presupposed to lie within signication, by way of its universality.
PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOANALYSIS
205
It is presupposed to lie beneath signications, on their ipside, as the
sliding, the threading, the rivulet, the channel of our being, in the
un-presented that forms the lining of the signifying chain. I quote:
The channel in which desire is located is not simply that of the modu-
lation of the signifying chain, but that which ows beneath it as
well; that is, properly speaking, what we are as well as what we are
not, our being and our non-being that which is signied in an act
passes from one signier of the chain to another beneath all the
signications.
This time philosophy can be said to localize the void in the formal uni-
versality of signication by means of the act, whereas psychoanalysis situ-
ates it on the other side, in the duplication and doubling of all signication.
For, according to Kant, the universality of the moral act, in the form of
the void, opens onto being itself, qua being, what he called the supra-sen-
sible; whereas, according to Lacan, ethics opens, singularly, in response to
the discovery of betrayal, to our being, to that which, to use his own
words, we are, and we are also not, our being and our non-being.
Localization of the void in signication and in universality, or localiza-
tion of the void on the other side (revers) of all signication and in the
singularity of the occurrence. Localization of the void as an opening onto
the supra-sensible, or localization of the void as channel of our being:
as we move from pure reason to practical reason, the dispute is displaced
and intensied.
If, now, we examine the general form of the question of truth, we nd
that this opposition appertains, after Parmenides or Plato and Kant, to
Hegel and the dialectic.
The point that psychoanalysis and philosophy have in common is that
they both hold truth and error to be absolutely entwined. Lacan said it
most rigorously in the seminar of 30 June 1954: So long as truth is not
entirely revealed, that is to say in all likelihood until the end of time, its
nature will be to propagate itself in the form of error.
One can only agree to such a proposition. Yet, in the very same text,
Lacan proceeded to distinguish between, on the one hand, what he
called discourse, in which he included philosophy, singularly Hegelian
philosophy, and, on the other hand, speech, which psychoanalysis certi-
es to be in excess of discourse.
CONDITIONS
206
What maxim does discourse, and hence philosophy, fall under? This
maxim is that in discourse it is contradiction which sorts truth from error.
Let us say, then, that the void of difference between truth and error, grant-
ing that the latter presents the former, is localized in the negative, in
explicit contradiction. Or, as Lacan put it, that error is demonstrated as
such when, at a given moment, it results in a contradiction. This also
means that philosophical dialectic localizes the void separating error and
truth at the point at which being qua being would as it were coincide
exactly with non-being qua non-being. At this point the nothing of being
remains, as the ultimate proof of truth such as error exhibits it.
Now, with psychoanalysis it works differently. This is essentially
expressed by saying: the unconscious ignores the principle of contradic-
tion. And more subtly:
The genuine speech that we are supposed to uncover through inter-
pretation obeys laws other than those of discourse, which is subject to
the condition of having to move within error up to the moment when
it encounters contradiction. Authentic speech has other modes, other
means, than everyday speech.
It follows that the Freudian innovation is the revelation, within the phe-
nomenon, of these subjective, experienced moments, in which a speech
emerges that surpasses the discoursing subject.
If, therefore, dialectical philosophy localizes the void in contradiction,
pushing it to a pure point at which being qua being cannot be maintained,
then psychoanalysis localizes it in the excessive emergence of speech,
which is such that the subject of discourse is disrupted, is interrupted.
Either a localization of the void in that which exorbitates being from
its self-identity, or a localization in the excess over self of the subject,
in the rift of discourse and speech: you understand the insistence of
the dispute.
And then again . . . Every truth emerges from having found a pass in
the impasse, and no doubt it is also so with that truth that we aspire to
say, and that is at stake empirically in the observation that neither has
psychoanalysis interrupted philosophy nor has philosophy been able to
deconstruct psychoanalysis.
I shall begin by indicating a difcult torsion in Lacans text, taking
every precaution, so as not to become immediately subsumed within the
categories of discourse, not to speak of contradiction.
PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOANALYSIS
207
In the seminar of 20 March 1973, Lacan stated that if psychoanalysis
is grounded in a presumption or ideal, it is that a knowledge about truth
can be constituted on the basis of its experience.
But, in the seminar of 15 May of the same year, in express opposition
to Plato, he stated quite simply that the real essence of his teaching con-
sists in determining the conditions for this statement: that there is some
relationship of being that cannot be known. He also put it as: Some-
thing true can still be said about what cannot be demonstrated.
It takes quite a bit of work, Im sure youll agree, to be able to link
these two theses together. And it was perhaps this difcult linking that
led Lacan, in the immediate follow on, to express his uncertainty about
how to approach truth.
How indeed can a knowledge of truth emerge whose whole being, or
relation of being, consists in not knowing? Does determination of a
knowledge of a truth of the unknown not presuppose that in the
formula it thinks it is said that ultimately being thinks, something that
Lacan dismissed as a defect of philosophys inaugural hypothesis? Against
Plato, Lacan maintained that the approach (abord) to being is not reduc-
ible to the Idea construed as knowledge that lls being or as knowledge
immanent to being. But does not the exception of an unknown relation-
ship, as it is given in truth through psychoanalysis, lead us back to the
very edge of knowledge, and so to the Idea?
Are there this is the most pointed form of the question any Ideas
specic to psychoanalysis?
In my view, it is in the light, or in the shadow, of this question that
Lacan, like Plato, summoned mathematics. Mathematics has always
been the place-holder of the Idea as Idea, the Idea as Idea to which Lacan
gave the name of matheme.
In 1954, Lacan referred to speech as that which is in a relation of excess
to the Hegelian discourse of contradiction. In 1973, he expressly referred
to mathematical formalization: Compared to a philosophy that culmi-
nates in Hegels discourse . . . cant the formalization of mathematical
logic serve us in the analytic process?
It is remarkable that immediately after stating that mathematical
formalization is our goal, our ideal, Lacan then goes on to discuss the back-
bone of his teaching, namely, the notion that I speak without knowing it.
As we can already intimate, there is, then, an intrinsic link between
three terms or functions.
CONDITIONS
208
rst, that the relationship of being is not reducible to knowledge
second, that there is possible knowledge about the truth of this
relationship;
third, that mathematics is the locus of the Idea.
In this instance, we may therefore assume that the localization of the
void lies in none other than the remainderlessness of the matheme;
the matheme empties out all the scraps and conveys that which in expe-
rience touches the un-known of a truth. As it is presented in mathema-
tizing literalization, the void is what separates truth and knowledge, each
time psychoanalysis opens us up to some knowledge of a truth.
Lacan told us that Plato was wrong to ll being with knowledge.
However, the matheme enables a completely different incompleteable
lling-in: a lling up of the void, of the very void disjoining them, with
the un-known and knowledge.
In this sense, there can be knowledge of an un-known truth at the
point of the void. And, consequently, access to being would consist, just
like in philosophy, in the presupposition of a void that only the little
letters of formalization can nail down without remainder, therefore
without total (plein).
This presupposes that being and the real are distinct, insofar as the real
remains a function of the subject. Lacan had always insisted on this dis-
tinction. Discussing the three fundamental passions love, hatred and
ignorance in the seminar of 30 June 1954, Lacan argued that they can
only be registered in the dimension of being, and not in that of the real.
His view never changed on this point, despite the incessant re-elabora-
tions to which he submitted the category of the real. On 26 June 1973,
he again stated that it is love that approaches being as such in an
encounter.
Philosophy and psychoanalysis can be compossible, since the double
paradoxical condition of mathematics and love cross over at the point
where the void is localized in the disjunction of an un-known truth and
a knowledge of that truth. This point, I maintain, is that of the Idea.
Psychoanalysis and philosophy both ultimately demand that we adhere
to Spinozas unfounded and unfoundable maxim: Habemus enim ideam
veram, we in effect have, but as an effect of nothing, as localization of
the void, a true idea. One, at least.
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
231
Now, it is Plato himself who is presented as showing an exemplary
expression of contempt for this claim. As Lacan said, in 1973:
The Cratylus, by none other than Plato, results from the endeavour to
show that there must be a relationship and that the signier in and of
itself means something. This attempt, which we can qualify from our
vantage point as desperate, is marked by failure, because another
discourse, scientic discourse [. . .] gives us the following, that the
signier is posited only insofar as it has no relation to the signied.
We will come across further instances of the idea that none other
than Plato has been irreversibly discredited by scientic, or rather
Galilean, discourse.
But is this trial led in forthright terms? Lacan himself was the rst to
recognize the properly comic genius that sparkles in Platos dialogues.
Are we to take the mind-blowing etymologies of the Cratylus literally?
Is Platos strategy really to save the signication of the signier at any
cost? Instead the central premise of the dialogue emerges when Socrates
declares that we, we philosophers, we set out from things, and not from
words. Etymology here is only a vector of an intellectual comedy involv-
ing a profound thesis on the seriousness of language, which is contrasted
to the ludic surface that sophists of all ages want to reduce it. That
language is able to latch onto the thing itself, and that philosophical
thinking must be situated in the very point of this latch that is what
impassioned Plato.
To be sure, Lacan did note elsewhere the reality of this passion in
Platos work, albeit under the name of Socrates, and he did so from two
angles:
The rst consists in recognizing what can be deciphered in the philoso-
pher of a desire for scienticity, or at least an ideal thereof. Take this
declaration from 1960:
Socrates demanded that we do not content ourselves with doxa, to
which we have an innocent relation, but that we ask why, that we
satisfy ourselves with no less than that certainty he called episteme, or
science, namely that which gives an account of its reasons. This, Plato
said, is the business of Socrates philosophein.
What appeals to Socrates, Lacan added, is science. This being so, what
the philosopher, that is, Plato, establishes is, including in the gure of his
CONDITIONS
232
desire, something that would seemingly come in the future to under-
mine him in the form of Ferdinand de Saussure.
The other angle relates to what I said about the statement made in the
Cratylus concerning philosophical passion for the thing itself. Lacan
approvingly noted the central point, via what of it is shown in the rela-
tion of the Subject to the formidable presupposition of its enjoyment, the
Thing, das Ding. I quote, again from 1960:
In a short digression in letter VII, Plato told us what it is that the
whole operation of the dialectic is after: it is quite simply the same
thing that I had to take stock of last year in my remarks on ethics, and
which I called The Thing, which is here called to pragma. You may
understand by this, if you will, the great affair, the ultimate reality,
that on which the very thought which confronts it, and discusses it,
also depends, and which is, I might say, only one of the ways to prac-
tice it. It is to pragma, the thing, the essential praxis. Theoria is itself the
exercise of the power of to pragma, the great affair.
Here we see that Plato is recognized as having a certain paternity, and
a power of anticipation, which effectively counterbalances the properly
positivist verdict that would condemn Plato for having misrecognized
the possible avatars of scientic discourse.
Lacan was more rigorous in his attempt to refute the Platonic doctrine
of reminiscence, and of what constitutes its ontological underpinning,
that is, the theme of the participation of being in the supersensible realm
of Ideas.
Lacans view of reminiscence was that it is essentially tantamount to
a game of mirrors that leads thought along an innite regress via the
duplications (doublons) and doubles (doublures) of the imaginary, and
that has to provide for these similitudes an always-already-there to
regulate (normer) their dizzying movement. Consider, for example, what
he said in 1955:
Plato cannot conceive of the embodiment of ideas in any other
way than in a series of endless reections. Everything which
happens and which is recognized is in the image of the idea. The
image existing in itself is in its turn only an image of an idea existing
in itself, is only an image in relation to another image. There is only
reminiscence.
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
233
The specically imaginary status of reminiscence at once holds it
outside of genuine repetition and stops it shy of the creative power of
the symbolic. Thereby was Lacan able, on the one hand, to set up a
contrast between Plato and Kierkegaard, as when, in 1953, he noted the
distance that separates out the reminiscence Plato presupposed for the
advent of the idea from the exhaustion of being that is consummated in
Kierkegaardian repetition; and, on the other hand, to contrast the imag-
inary sterility of the similitudes of reminiscence against the real capacity
for commencement implicit in the symbol. Once again the year is 1955
and immediately after what he said about reminiscence he stated:
When we speak about the symbolic order, there are absolute begin-
nings, there is creation.
Hence, the Platonic doctrine of reminiscence, in thrall to the endless
reections of the imaginary and to an illusory pre-givenness, thus
nds itself deposed twice over, once by the true concept of the auto-
matism of repetition, and again by the power of beginning inherent in
the symbol.
There is in the background a more serious, albeit implicit, point which
consists in identifying the Platonic Idea, qua recapitulative schema of
imaginary errancy, with Jungs archetypes an association that, it must
be admitted, is none too pleasing.
We certainly could wonder whether Plato had not already alluded to
the series of endless reections that Lacan mentions in anticipating the
third man argument, and in all the aporias that attend the theory of
reminiscence. Since, in the unfolding of its presentation, reminiscence
is formulated more as a sort of myth that refers to cycles of existence
than as a concept with a regulated operation. Indeed, the immense con-
struction of the Republic manages to avoid all mention of it until the nal
myth of Er, when it is merely alluded to in the example about the one
who returns from among the dead.
Of course, it could be argued that the instances of myth in Plato
precisely indicate points where the imaginary constrains thought to a
law of pure resemblances, to analogies without concept. Are not Jungs
archetypes constantly propped up on myths? Indeed, it could be argued.
But this view on Platos recourse to myths is not one that Lacan himself
held. In fact, he very rightly pointed out that the instances of myth in the
dialogues are always the result of a calculation that very accurately
CONDITIONS
234
localizes the point at which it would be a little far-fetched to lead every
truth-effect back to the consistency of the signier. In 1960, he said:
Throughout the whole Platonic oeuvre, we see myths emerge at the
required moment to ll in the chasm of what cannot be ensured
dialectically.
Hence for Lacan myth is less the mark of the imaginary than a laboured
supplement to argumentative style, needed whenever conceptual com-
pression reveals the crack of its incompleteness.
We might, incidentally, also take this as a useful way of approaching
Lacans own oeuvre, that is by picking out if not the myths then the
fables which, as in Plato, ll in for discourse at the precise points where
a signifying sequence is caught lacking.
There is, it seems to me, a more serious limitation of Lacans critique of
reminiscence and it is that, in the assumed innite regress from the
existent to ideas and also between ideas themselves, he failed to take into
account the crucial function of the halting point that Plato called the Good.
Indeed, if we extricate Platos Good from the theological dross with
which the centuries have covered it, we see that its chief purpose is to
designate the point of radical alterity at which all referrals (renvoi) and all
relations come to be suspended. With Plato the Good serves as the place
of the Other, which, ex-centered, places speech under the law of truth.
This is the reason why Plato said that the Good is neither an Idea nor
even ousia that ousia that does not translate being neither substance nor
essence since we should rather say: it is what of being is exposed to the
Idea. The Good is the very place in which the idea takes effect for that
which is exposed there, and is consequently subtracted from both the
Idea and from exposition, thus from ousia. It is exactly in this sense that
Plato could say that the Good is that which prodigies the truth . . . and
the capacity of the believer. What prodigies is not prodigied. In Lacans
terms, we can express this as: there is no other of the other. And in Platos
as: the Good is neither the Idea nor what of being is exposed to the Idea.
In short, if reminiscence is not what Lacan says it is, that is because
the endlessness of imaginary captation happens to be curbed by a point
of excess, namely the Good, the chief purpose of which is to tell us that
there is no truth of truth.
The same objection can more or less also be applied to Lacans harsh
critique of the theme of participation. This critique moreover is marked
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
235
with a feature whose signicance we shall come to below. Lacans critique
proceeds in such a way that it is as if Plato did not believe in his own argu-
ments for a second, as if his elaborations concerning the participation of
the sensible in the intelligible were no more than a sort of Platonic tall
story, a farce for limited disciples. Witness this declaration from 1961:
The Platonic idea that all that exists exists through its participation
in some sort of intemporal essence reveals its ction and its lure to the
light of day, and it does so at the very point in the Phaedo where it is
impossible not to say that we have any reason to think Plato believed
in this lure anymore than we.
It may well be that participation is a lure, except if we are to suppose
that the following is its sole question: what is the price to be paid in
thought for introducing, with the symbolic, the thesis there is some One-
ness, precisely at the point where the multiple is presented to us? That all
horses pertain to Horseness is something to which we must give a name,
whether participation or something else, to indicate that this is the case.
We all know the story about the cynic who said he saw horses, but
never horseness. This road does not take us far, and it is certainly not the
one Lacan was heading down. Because if the truth is to remain intact,
nothing less than the radical transcendence of the Big Other is required,
in which, to be brief, all human desire participates, because it at once
nds there both the signiers that articulate it (as that which belongs
to it) and the object causing it (as what is included in it).
Now, regardless of whether Plato gradually abandoned the theme of
participation, as Robin claims, or did no more than complete the appara-
tus, as Festugire argues, this theme was certainly not his last word
about the mode in which the One occurs in the multiple. This last word
is rather to be found in the doctrine of the greatest kinds and their
mixtures elaborated in both the Sophist and the Philebus, and also in that
decisive handbook on the quibbles of the One, the Parmenides.
Lacan was well aware that in the end we cannot solve the paradoxes
of the One with the initial image of it given in the concept of participa-
tion. For there are actually two paradoxes here, and Lacan commented
on both of them.
The rst is that the Platonic One is fragmented not only in the sensible
manifold it is presumed to link together, but also in itself, and it is thereby
dialectically subtracted from the unity of its own One. In 1973, Lacan
CONDITIONS
236
remarked that there are as many ones as you would like they are
characterized by not resembling each other in anything, see the rst
hypothesis of the Parmenides.
The second is that, just as the Good was beyond ousia, which it far
exceeds, said Plato, in prestige and power, so is the Platonic One beyond
being itself incompatible with being. In Lacans terms, there is denitely
some Oneness (il y a de lUn), but it does not follow from this that the One
is. The Ones non-being separates it from itself, and links it to the Other
in a constitutive torsion that only the event can support. Lacan knew that
this paradoxical One, this One that is not, this One that is the Other as
such, has its origins in the work of Plato. He put it clearly in LEtourdit:
It is the logic of the Eteros which has to be brought to notice, the
remarkable thing here being that it was rst spelled out in the
Parmenides, on the basis of the Ones compatibility with Being.
What are we to conclude? If not that, on this point, anti-philosophy,
pursued with lucid awareness, and with a constantly open sense of
inventiveness towards what incites it, to which Lacan always attested,
nolens volens undermines the anti-Platonism that the whole century had
believed was the hallmark of its solemn novelty.
That Lacan proclaimed in his seminar . . . Or Worse that Plato is
Lacanian is not to be lightly brushed aside. It is a statement that adroitly
weighs up recognition of the fact that Lacan himself is not Platonic with
a recognition of their shared afnity in relation to the doctrine of the
One, which claries why, with a distance of twenty-four centuries, which
is not nothing, the discussion between them could not be stopped by
anything save death.
But since, after the balance-sheet of the horrors of the last century of
this temporal gap, we are called from all sides to ethics a word that
I believe Lacan, in 1955, gave a place of honour before anyone else, and
for less uncertain ends let us see what this call says of Plato.
As we might surmise, it is Lacans view that Platos adopted posture is
the obligatory posture of the philosopher, which is also an imposture,
and which results from his holding, as subject and for others, the
discourse of the master. There is in the seminar of 1960 a colourful
expression about this, and which does not function by mortmain:
Plato, Lacan said, was a true master: a master at a time when the polis
was decomposing, taken over by the democratic urry, a prelude to
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
237
the times of great imperial conuence. He was a sort of more comic
version of de Sade.
I should imagine that, assuming he had the anachronistic parameters
on hand to comprehend it, Plato would have been a little wondrous at
his being called a more comic version of de Sade.
All the same, the position of the master is not unequivocally contest-
able, far from it. On the basis of its authority, Lacan even attempted
to make a distinction between modern or Galilean science and what
the Greeks called science, pistem. Accordingly, in 1964, he stated
that what distinguishes modern science from science in its infancy, as
discussed in the Theatetus, is that when science arises a master is
always present.. We might therefore be led to surmise that the absence
of master is a sign of modernity. However Lacan ultimately concludes by
placing Freud at Platos side: Freud is certainly a master. Mastery, then,
is not in itself Greek or pre-Galilean. It conjoins every science which
arises; it is a sign of beginnings, both ancient and modern.
That said, the polemical point remains, against this de Sade touched by
comic genius. But its most distinctive feature resides in that with which
it is contrasted, and that is the gure of Socrates. A whole swathe of
Lacans critique of Plato can be made only on the condition of rst
making a radical distinction between Plato and he who nonetheless
constitutes his central ction, the character (or the persontherein lies
the whole problem) of Socrates.
Lacan denitely was not the rst to have engaged in making this dis-
tinction. Hegel, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche and many others preceded him.
But in his work the distinction is made in accordance with the canon of
discourses. He attributes to Plato the masters discourse, and, by means
of an astounding historical twist, the analysts to Socrates. Incidentally,
this goes to show that for Lacan the ability to hold the analysts discourse
is very much independent of any reference not only to institutions and
professions but even to Freuds theoretical invention. For, with the
exception of Freud, the only analyst with whom Lacan could identify,
I believe, was indeed Socrates.
In 1953 Lacan went so far as to ask us to feel in Socrates and his desire
the still-intact enigma of the psychoanalyst. Such was his expression.
Better still, in 1960, in testimony to his almost nave desire to convince
us that the Symposium is not one of Platos ctions but a genuine account,
CONDITIONS
238
Lacan endeavoured to read the Symposium as a sort of report of psycho-
analytic sessions.
I shall now provide all the reasons that make it possible to recognize in
Socrates the rst historical analyst; but, admittedly hostile to the distinc-
tion, I shall do so without taking away the credit from Plato, of whom
Socrates is in my eyes a claricatory ction.
There are two main ones.
The rst is that Socrates is presented as the subject-supposed-to-know
about love. Lacan maintains that Socrates position gets its authority
through his maintaining ignorance about everything with the exception
of eros. It is on this fundamental supposition, of having a familiarity with
eros, that the transferential love that all have for Socrates is commanded.
In some astonishing lectures in the seminar on transfer, Lacan showed
how the transferential relationship of Alcibiades to Socrates, to this trea-
sure, this agalma, of which Socrates is a holder, and which consists
precisely in what he knew about love, is interpreted and diverted by
Socrates onto Agathon. Socrates analytic impassivity works wonders
here, establishing that what Alcibiades asks from him, he could only
have in identifying, in Agathon, the sparkle of his lack.
The second reason for qualifying Socrates as an analyst and here
there is no doubt we are talking about Plato is that in the universe of
discourses there is an entailment of truth. Socrates-Plato is the one who,
beyond and against the sophists, ushered into history the idea that what
is at issue in the logic of the signier, once it is consistent and linked
together, is the position of truth. From among many others, let us cite
this passage from 1960:
What Socrates called science was that which is necessarily imposed,
on every interlocution, as a function of a specic manipulation, of a
specic internal coherence that is linked, or so he believed, solely to
the pure and simple reference to the signier.
What Lacan is stressing here is that Socrates and in this he is
original was not a humanist, that he was not one to refer man to man.
For, as Lacan quite rightly noted out, the expression man is the measure
of all things is sophistic, not Socratic. The Socratic formula, so Lacan
argued, instead involves refering the truth to discourse.
We see the extent to which it is only by subtracting Socrates from
Plato, by isolating this operative ction from the philosophical tissue
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
239
in which it occurs, that Lacan was able to attach to Plato the ironical
distance that the masters discourse levies.
Instead, the truth is no doubt that, as much with regard to love as to
the primacy of signifying consistency, Plato is inclined to occupy the
position of analytic discourse and that of the master. If we put together
again what Lacan separated for his own ends, we are handed a valuable
lesson, which is that philosophy is always diagonal to the four discourses.
Philosophy simultaneously retains it compossibilises in its exercise of
thought the masters injunction, the hysterics loudly uttered interrup-
tion, the savant ratiocination of the University, and the analysts subtrac-
tion. It is in this sense that Platos dialogues found philosophy, via the
free play they establish, under the shelter of literary form, between these
disparate regimes of discourse.
Moreover philosophys plasticity also enables it to instruct through the
example of deadlock. Platonic aporia is attended by the atopia of his
discourses. It is this a-topia that Lacan identied as indicating of Socrates
specicity, as we see it born out in Alcibiades eulogy to him. Lacan seems
also to have identied his own position with this diagonality of places.
However, is this very site not that of the philosopher, whose conditions
of emergence Plato already listed in a singular passage of Book VI of the
Republic? Plato argues in this passage that philosophers only ever emerge
on the basis of eccentric or, I would say, delocalizing, conditions, which
he listed as follows: being in exile; being born in a small unknown city;
having an ordinary metier before entering into philosophy by some
properly inexplicable movement; being sick or in a precarious state of
health; and possessing a divine sign. In short, there is nothing that is less
normal than the philosopher. So if he is a master, he is one a-normally,
that is, in his withdrawal from, and negation of, the ofcial disposition of
things and discourses. This alone is what enabled him to undertake his
subversive traversal of the registers of discourse, and to be one who,
under the systematic law of the concept, both utters and interrupts, both
ratiocinates and keeps silent.
Is this to say that we should recognize the ofce of philosophy as resid-
ing in such an ethical disposition? We know that Lacan did not subscribe
to this view. Busy constructing the notion that Socrates and Plato occupy
disjunct positions, Lacan located in Plato a sort of moral sentimentality,
a Schwrmerei, allegedly leading him to abandon the pure requirement
of signifying consistency and the encounter with the void it implies.
CONDITIONS
240
By contrast to Socrates, Lacan claimed, Plato was unable maintain the
impassivity of the analyst, and that is the reason that Aristotle is, in
ethical terms, superior to him. Consider these statements from 1960:
What I have called Platos Schwrmerei lies in his having projected
onto what I call the impenetrable void the idea of the Sovereign Good.
As for our own experience, I have undertaken in part what one can
call an Aristotelian conversion in relation to Plato, who on the plane of
ethics has without a doubt been surpassed.
What I said a moment ago about the function of the Good sufces for
you to understand my reluctance to corroborate this assessment and
deem Plato to have been irremediably surpassed in the order of Ethics.
Because the twofold function of the Good, as ex-centred halting point in
the recurrence of the real, and as that which slaps a ban on every truth of
truth, does not call on us to engage in superstitious sentimentality. What
Plato staged was rather of the order of the call to an avulsion, to a conver-
sion, to a chance rupture with the serial dimension of the prevailing
situation. As he wrote in Book VII of the Republic, we call true philosophy
the turning of the soul from a sort of obscure day towards the real day, or
the ascent towards the aspect of being that is exhibited in the Idea.
What I see as the subject in this turning is what Lacan had claimed
was excluded by the doctrine of reminiscence, namely an absolute
beginning. It is true that to turn away from such a turning, to make do
with the obscure day, to prosper in the established order, or in what
Lacan calls the servicing of goods, is the basis of all villainy. If ethics
involves not consenting to the villainy that consists in a simple appropri-
ation of what presents itself, then true philosophy in Platos sense, that
of a turning, is always of itself an ethical proposition.
Let us add to this, that what governs the possibility of such a turning is
not the sovereign Good conceived as an imaginary projection onto the
impenetrable void. It is much rather, as Plato was perfectly well aware,
were it only after Socrates death, the summoning of such a void by the
paradoxes of the One, paradoxes I for my part name paradoxes of the
Ultra-One, i.e. of an event, an encounter, an incalculable precipitating of
what comes to pass. And this Ultra-One on which our conversion is
dependent is exactly what Plato himself endeavoured to submit to
systematic examination; this he did as early as the Republic, where he
argued that the Good cannot be thought or named except by means of
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
241
metaphorical language drawn from the void where thought confronts
itself, but also later in the Sophist and in the Parmenides.
The problem is no doubt that on this point Lacan overly identied
Plato with Parmenides, despite the parricide of the Sophist, a murder-
of-the-father in which he might have found more to retain his interest.
Therewith are we brought closer to the properly ontological dimension
of the dispute.
In 1973, Lacan levelled at Parmenides the charge of having founded the
philosophical tradition on the supposition that being thinks. And it is true
that Parmenides fragment says that the Same, indeed, is at once to think
and to be. Now, due to his conception of the Platonic idea, Lacan was led
to discern in it an attempt at a sort of levelling out of knowledge and
being, at producing an equivalence between the two. Again in 1973:
In Platos work, form is the knowledge that lls being . . . It is real in
the sense that it holds being in its glass, but it is lled right to the brim.
Form is the knowledge of being.
Thus, for Lacan, philosophy insists on lling the glass of knowledge
with being, of desiring that, so that it can establish its mastery, being lls
knowledge right up to the brim. And this is what the Platonic Idea, which
is the real being of a hypostatised knowledge, aimed at achieving.
According to Lacan, however, Freuds discovery locates being outside
of knowledge; he discovered that between thought and being there is a
discordance, a crack, in which the effect of the subject as such unfolds.
Immediately following his remarks on Plato, Lacan expressed the point
as follows:
There is some relationship of being that cannot be known. It is that
relationship whose structure I investigate in my teaching.
The opposition is clear. It would seem to exclude psychoanalysis from
operating under the sign of the Idea.
There are again good grounds for again questioning Lacans interpreta-
tion here. Since the highest kinds found in the Sophist, especially the
Idea of the Other, attest that intellection is established as much in the
position of non-being as such. Ideas in Platos work do not t into
the simple schema of a completion of being by means of knowledge.
The reason for this is that they are mixtures, whose key lies in that
which, through the position of the Other, affects, or infects, being with
CONDITIONS
242
a paradoxical part of non-being. This is also the exact sense of the
aporetic conclusion to the Parmenides: if the decisive gure of the One is
to be reduced to knowledge alone, we come to the untenable, nihilistic
conclusion that nothing is, neither the One, nor the other than One. This
is to say, for Plato, another way is required, one that indeed assumes,
to adopt Lacans terms, that there is some relationship of being that
cannot be known. Let us say that there needs be an experience, or an
occurrence, the chance of which is irreducible to what can be known.
And it is not unimportant to remark that in neither of these two
fundamental dialogues is Socrates any longer the one who speaks; it is
instead, respectively, the Eleaic Stranger, or an old Parmenides impro-
bably portrayed in a disavowal, indeed in the non-being (dstre), of his
own thinking.
But, what I shall focus my attention on here is the surmise that, at the
very point at which Lacan turns away from the Idea, the matheme then
enters the stage.
In LEtourdit, Lacan reprises the notion that owing to rigorous scientic
developments Plato has been surpassed. This time at issue is Gdels
discovery of the language expressions of rst-order formalized arith-
metic, expressions that in the terms of its calculus are undecidable,
despite being semantically true. In Lacans view, this structural undecid-
ability undermines Platos surmise in the Meno concerning the innate-
ness of mathematical ideas, as Socrates thought he encountered them in
the slave in relation to the problem of the doubling of a square. For if
mathematics consists in the form of the eternal Idea, and as such is regis-
tered in the dianoetic part of our soul, then it must necessarily have
always been decided. But Gdels theorem, it seems, precludes one from
maintaining this. As a result, said Lacan, it is possible to say that, with
respect to the Meno, we have made progress on the question of what it
is possible to teach.
However, in a universe regulated by science, this progress has to be
paid for as usual with a loss of faith in what can be granted to true
opinion. Since, as Lacan continued, the true opinion to which Plato
gave meaning in the Meno no longer has anything but an ab-sence of
signication for us, which is conrmed if we refers ourselves to that of
our bien-pensants. This is, let it be said in passing, the very type of violent
declaration that Lacan, that rebellious master, often uttered so as to
shoot holes in the poor consistency of our epoch.
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
243
This loss which, it must be stressed, results from the fact that science
no longer supports the Idea in Platos sense is something that Lacan
proposed to remedy by recourse to a matheme furnished to us by
topology. Recourse to the matheme is here introduced as an attempt to
remedy.
Now, who is unaware that mathematics for Plato is an indispensable
condition for remedying, by means of the Idea, the loss of truth that
sophists expose us to? Does not the most Platonizing dimension of
Lacans work reside in the constancy of his references to that which bears
no relation to reality and so is all the more apt to open onto the real?
And is not mathematics, for both Plato and Lacan, the only available
paradigm for such references?
Clearly, however, Plato and Lacan once more part company over what
we might call the placement given to mathematics in their respective
systems of thought. For Plato, as we know, mathematical thinking, or
dianoia, is only the antechamber of the dialectic. It is metaxu, an in-
between, mid-way between doxa and genuine pistem. For Lacan, on the
other hand, the type of access the logio-mathematical gives to the real
makes it a supreme and improbable ideal for analytic discourse. He put it
forcefully in Seminar 20, a veritably inexhaustible text: Mathematical
formalization is our goal, our ideal. Why? Because there is no other math-
eme, in other words, it alone is capable of being integrally transmitted.
We can thus say that for Plato mathematics is propaedeutic, while for
Lacan the matheme is normative.
Let us further remark the differences between them concerning what
they emphasize and retain about mathematics.
For Lacan, mathematics is a kind of formalization, that is to say it is the
power of the letter. It is from this viewpoint that we can make sense of
the particularly radical statement to be found in the same seminar,
namely that only mathematization touches the real, and in this aspect it
is compatible with our discourse, analytical discourse. Only mathemati-
zation. This is a strong statement. And you will remark that mathematics
has here shifted from the ideal position it occupied a moment ago with
regard to the symbolic or transmission to a position of compatibility with
regard to the real. For analytical discourse, mathematization is at once
the ready ideal of integral transmission, and that real qua impasse of for-
malization with which what of the real occurs in the subject of analysis
can and must coexist.
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244
For Plato, the power of mathematics also lies in its attaining the real, a
real to which Plato gave the name of intelligible, and that, similar to
Lacan, he distinguished from reality, or what he termed the sensible.
But, for him, formalization does not constitute this power. This power is
constituted through axiomatic decision, through what Plato called
hypotheses. Yet this axiomatic functioning does violence to thought; it
has something constrained and blind about it. This is why it is only by
means of re-ascending to the principle within dialectics that mathemat-
ics can be rendered in the clarity of its own power.
Does this leave us with an opposition between a modern formalizing
conception of mathematics and a classical hypothetico-deductive con-
ception? This would no doubt be to misrecognize the function of the
axiom in Lacan, whose importance is such that we can maintain that the
Subject in his work is less the effect of a cause than the consequence of
an axiom. It would simultaneously to be to misrecognize the function in
Platos work of the letter and of the matheme, whose act is, as we see,
the only way to resolve the paradoxes of the One. For, this supernumer-
ary One that contains the void that it summons, and which I call event,
is it not in the end reducible to the letter which names it? Is it not, with
regard to the established alphabet of situations, that additional
letter, one devoid of all signication, but one with which other words
and unheard-of signications thus become possible, at the price of a
strict delity to what has happened? It is a letter whose excess inscrip-
tion, and only it, explains how the philosopher can be, as Plato indicated
in Book V of the Republic, one for whom life is an awakening [upar] and
not a dream [onar].
Let us take a step back from textual constraints and look at things
from a distance, even if, as Lucretius maintained, truth seen from afar
is melancholic. Which thinkers in the history of our thought have tried
to join together in a unique disposition the subjective intensity that
only love lavishes and the rigourous transmission of the matheme?
Yes, which thinkers, if not Plato and Lacan, have taken the risk simulta-
neously to maintain that the process of truth cannot be accomplished
without some sort of transference, to which the demand for love is
key, and that it cannot be transmitted without a matheme, the form of
which is the axiom? Which thinkers have been able to write on the door
of their school since both Plato and Lacan founded schools, and that of
Lacan, under the name La Cause Freudienne, presses on, and we should
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
245
hope it will continue to do so for at least as long as the Academy did,
without being able to know who its Damascius will be yes, which
thinkers have been able to write the double maxim that none shall enter
unless a geometer, or logician, or topologist, and that none shall enter
unless ready to uphold, in the radical effects of an encounter, the atopic,
asocial intensity of amorous de-liaison? Both Plato and Lacan, though
from two different angles, worked towards identifying this strange com-
plex of conditions for thinking, which obscurely joins the folly of passion
and the beatitude of demonstration.
At the point of concluding, the idea strikes me that Lacans convoluted
and divided relations to Plato, which all the same exempt him from the
philosophical anti-Platonic doxa, nds its symptom, which Ill now inter-
pret, in his strange and restated conviction that Plato concealed his
thought more than he presented it. We saw above Lacans insinuation
that in the Pheado Plato had been simply having his disciples on with all
his talk about the empty theme of participation. There is an even more
singular text in which Lacan claimed that the whole political construc-
tion of the Republic which he referred to as a sort of strategy for the
breeding of well-behaved horses was only presented by Plato to arouse
a feeling of total horror. This perfect city was merely designed to drown
in irony something that Plato himself abominated, a self-evident abomi-
nation that Lacan claimed we all share. This is stretching Platos image as
one who conceals his real thinking behind his explicit arguments pretty
far. But such is Lacans position. After an interview with Kojve Lacan
once reported that they both shared the conviction that Plato had con-
cealed what he thought. Lacan thereby felt he could ask for leniency:
You should therefore not bear me a grudge if I do not give you Platos
last word, because Plato was very decided on not telling it to us.
Having already separated the ction Socrates from his master, this dis-
simulating Plato seems, does it not, like simply another way of enabling
him to his maintain ambiguous stance in relation to philosophy? If the
entirety of the Republic is an ironical imposture, how then are we to
know whether we are speaking about what Plato thought or what he
un-thought (ce quil impense)? About what he thought about philosophy
or about its sophistic contrary? At any rate, quite independently of this,
Socratess placement within analytical discourse is enough to indicate
that it had already been anticipated by philosophy.
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246
I will posit, then, that, as regards what is said about Plato, anti-
philosophy shows itself to be an apparatus of duplicity. This is not a
judgement, since this duplicity is an operation. Inasmuch as it must be
constituted as an independent gure of thought and act, psychoanalysis,
like politics, or poetry, or love, or science, must explicitly distance itself
from philosophy. Inasmuch as it touches the subject, being, truth and
ethics, psychoanalysis must traverse and make holes in philosophy. In its
Lacanian disposition, psychoanalysis is always a traverse of at least love
and mathematics, both of which, as generic procedures, are conditions
for philosophy. Lacan did not miss all that is opened in accessing these
conditions from the standpoint of philosophy, albeit, if I may say, from
the other side of these procedures. By the other side I mean for whoever,
like him, as he always said, draws everything from clinical experience.
Anti-philosophy designates the ambiguity of these two relations, the
one of distance, the other of a traverse. Socrates and Plato, Plato the
dissimulator and Plato the sincere, distribute alternately, in praise and
criticism, the two functions immanent to anti-philosophy, functions that
are contrary to one another, and whose contrariness is seen in that the
anti, as a function of distance, also supports the afrmation of philoso-
phy, the function of traverse.
Lacan said somewhere, Im certain of it, although for once Ive not
found where, that if some happen to believe that analysis is a continua-
tion of the Platonic dialogues, they are mistaken. Which is duly noted,
because it matters to me as much as to him that psychoanalysis is strictly
distinguished from philosophy. But he also asked whether and here
I know exactly where, it is in the seminar of 19 May 1954 we ought
not to pursue the analytic intervention as far as the fundamental
dialogues on justice and courage, in the great dialectical tradition. Which
is also duly noted. This time it is the Platonic dialogues that further anal-
ysis, or work to complete it. A torsion of the anti-philosophical schema.
One will see that, between its examination in the Laches and its discrete
occurrences in Lacan, the word courage in itself provides sufcient rea-
son for having here experimented with coupling these two names, Plato
and Lacan; since it is no doubt necessary to have a little courage in
thought to stand, as I attempt to do, at the crossroads of all that these two
names refer to that I consider essential. To stand in a crossing in torsion,
without any unity of plane, between anti-philosophy and philosophy.
ANTI-PHILOSOPHY
247
In a crossing basically implying a sole imperative that might be put as
follows: Endeavour to apply yourself at a point in which at least one
truth comes to pass. You will thereby emerge as the subject of that which
this truth is the tissue of being. Not that you come from being, but on the
contrary from that which has come forth, from an event or from transbe-
ing. This is a coming forth whose having-taken-place will turn out only
insofar as it will have taken place through your faithful activity.
Or again, and to conclude: Be willing to stay, suspended and hard-
working, giving no ground, between the undecidability of the event and
the indiscernibility of truth.
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Part VII
The Writing of the Generic
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251
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Writing of the Generic: Samuel Beckett
1. THE IMPERATIVE AND ITS DESTINATION
The opening attack: a vers de mirliton,
1
a mirlitonnade written by Beckett
around 1976. It is a quite singular mirlitonnade, since as we see it couples
the mirliton with Heraclitus the Obscure:
Flux causes
That every thing
Even in being,
Every thing,
Thus this one here,
Even this one here,
Even in being
Is not.
Lets speak about it.
2
For Beckett, speaking will always remain an imperative, but an imper-
ative pertaining to the things undecidability or balancing. The thing is
not withdrawn. It can be shown. It is this thing; however, upon being
determined, it oscillates between being and non-being in accordance
with its ux. Writing the lets speak about it could then said to be
situated in a space of decision relating to things in their being, a decision
that if only because its tting form is that of mirlitonnade no dialectic
will ever sublate. That the thing can simultaneously be held in the place
where it is and in the place where it is not is given in the image of ux;
CONDITIONS
252
this ux, however, is never the synthesis of being and non-being, and is
not to be confused with Hegelian becoming.
Writing is established at the point where the thing, on the edge of disap-
pearing, as is entailed by the non-being of its ux, is submitted to the
undecidable question of its stability. This is precisely the reason why, as it
is never destined by anything whose being is motionless, writing, with
regard to the incertitude of the thing, takes on the form of an imperative.
What this interminable imperative must take stock of, if in all general-
ity it is the beam oscillating between being and non-being, the balancing
and the weighing of the thing, can also be also transformed into a certain
number of questions.
Critique, in Kants thinking, is organized around three questions: What
can I know? What should I do? What can I hope? In Becketts thinking
there are also three questions, formulated in an ironic analogy that char-
acterizes his relation to philosophy. These questions nd clear expression
in his Texts for Nothing. Here is one variant: Where would I go if I could
go, who would I be, if I could be, what would I say, if I had a voice, who
says this, saying its me? This threefold question concerns going, being
and saying. This is the threefold instance of an I that is transversal to
questions, a subject caught in the interval between going, being and say-
ing. Up until 1960, and a little beyond, in what is the best-known part of
Becketts work, the character is, always and everywhere, a man of tra-
jectory (going), of motionlessness (being) and of monologue (saying).
Given this trio of elementary situations pertaining to the subject, it is
immediately possible to mark what I shall call the fundamental tendency
in Becketts work towards the generic. This generic desire is to be under-
stood as the reduction of the complexity of experience to a few major
functions, as the treatment in writing of only that in which an essential
determination inheres. For Beckett, writing was an act ruled by a strict
principle of economy. In keeping with it, he was required, and to an ever
greater degree, to subtract anything that gured as mere circumstantial
ornamentation, any mere secondary amusements, since, if its destiny is
to say generic humanity, writing can and must restrict itself to exhibit-
ing, or to detaching, these rare functions. Initially, at the outset of this
prodigious enquiry into humanity in which the art of Beckett consists, it
is true that there are three of these functions: going, being and saying.
The internal metaphor in Becketts work for this subtraction of orna-
ments inheres in the novels: throughout the texts progression, the
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
253
characters that accomplish the ction of generic writing shed all their
inessential predicates habits, objects, possessions, body pieces and
fragments of language. Beckett often drew up the list of what needed to
be lost for the generic functions to emerge. And he did not refrain from
saddling these ornaments and vain possessions with unpleasant epithets,
indicating that if the essence of generic humanity is to be apprehended, it
can only be done by setting aside and dispelling these extraneous disas-
ters. One is these lists is given in Rough for Theatre, II: Work, family, third
fatherland, cunt, nances, art and nature, heart and conscience, health,
housing conditions, God and man, so many disasters. The subtraction of
disasters, in prose, produces a ctional apparatus that lays bare or ren-
ders destitute. It is crucial, I think, to relate this apparatus to its function
of thought, because those who have taken literally what is only a gura-
tion have all too often interpreted it as a sign that humanity is, for Beckett,
a condition of tragic devastation, of absurd abandonment. Yet, if I may say
so, this perspective accepts the viewpoint of the proprietor, the one for
whom possessions are the sole proof of meaning and being. Instead, in
Becketts work, when we are presented with a subject at its destitute end,
it is someone who, nolens volens, has managed in the misadventures of
experience to shed the disastrous ornaments of circumstance.
It is essential to repudiate every interpretation of Beckett that passes
through the nihilist mundanity of the metaphysical vagrant. Beckett
spoke to us of something that had been far better thought out than this
despair of the salon. Like Pascals, what Becketts work endeavoured to
achieve was an intrinsic examination of humanitys functions, through a
subtraction from the gure of humanity of everything that sidetracks it.
In the rst place, the ctional apparatus of destitution is an operator
enabling the presentation of a progressive purging of characters. We see
this process, clearly evident in the esh of its prose, from the rst to the
last of Becketts writings, and that where it led was to a sort of cracking
point at which prose is subordinated to a hidden poem. This process further
involved a paring down of metaphors to a nite stock of terms, which
ultimately resulted, in their specic combination and recurrence, in an
ensemble of thought.
The kind of economy that Becketts texts were, little by little, to form
is one that I am happy to call ancient, or categorial. The primitive func-
tions of this economy, as we have seen, are movement, rest and logos. If
one observes, and how not to, the gravitational shift that occurred, as of
CONDITIONS
254
the 1960s, towards the question of the Same and the Other, and more
particularly to that of the Others existence, real or potential, we can main-
tain that throughout its course his work comes to plot the ve supreme
kinds of Platos Sophist. These kinds are the underlying concepts needed to
grasp humanitys generic existence, and they underlie its prosodic destitu-
tion, as that on which a thinking of our destiny is predicated. We could say
that these supreme kinds, Movement, Rest, the Same, the Other, the
Logos as displaced variants of Platos proposal constitute the reference
points, or primitive terms, for an axiomatic of humanity as such.
On the basis of these axiomatic terms, it is possible to discern the specic
questions that organize Becketts work, questions that dispose a ction of
humanity, in which the functional reduction of humanity is exhibited and
treated as something that is oriented towards essence, or Idea.
I shall restrict myself to discussing only four of these questions. At once
theological and a-theological, Becketts oeuvre is a summa, and its dispo-
sition cannot be exhausted here. These four questions are as follow.
1. That of the site of being, or more precisely, of the ction of its truth.
How does a truth of being enter the ction of its site?
2. That of the subject, which, for Beckett, is essentially a question of
identity. What are the processes by which the subject might hope
to identify itself?
3. That of the what happens, the what arrives. How to think the
supplement to motionless-being we call the event? For Beckett
this problem is closely related to that of the capacities of language.
Is it possible to name what happens or arrives insofar as it arrives?
4. That of the existence of the Two, or the virtuality of the Other. This is the
question that ultimately holds all of Becketts work together. Is there
any possibility of an actual Two that would go beyond solipsism? The
question at issue might also be said to be the question of love.
2. THE BLACKGREY AS THE SITE OF BEING
The originary axiomatics is an axiomatics of wandering, motionlessness
and voice: is it possible on the basis of this triplet to grasp any truth
whatsoever of what is insofar as it is? This operator of truth is not just
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
255
any operator. For Beckett, who is an artist, this operator is an apparatus
of ctions, and in this apparatus the resulting question is one about a
site. Is there a site of being that can be presented in the apparatus of
ction so that the being of this site of being itself becomes transmissible?
Taking Becketts oeuvre as a whole, we can in fact observe a sort of
interweaving of two ontological localizations, which are seemingly con-
trary to one another.
The rst localization is a closure: set up an enclosed space so that the
sites set of traits are denumerable and exactly nameable. Here the aim
is to make what is seen coextensive with what is said, under the banner
of the closed. The obvious examples are the play in which the characters
of Endgame are enclosed; the room in which Malone dies (or does not
die); and Mr. Knotts house in Watt, not to mention the cylindrical arena
of The Lost Ones. There are many more examples of closure than these.
In a text entitled Closed Place, Beckett wrote: Closed place. All needed to
be known for say is known.
Here we see the precise ambition of this apparatus of ction concern-
ing the question of the site of being, that is inasmuch the apparatus as
one of closure: to create a strict reversibility between vision and diction
in the register of knowledge. The type of localization required is particu-
larly ascetic.
But there is a totally different apparatus, one that, on the contrary, is
an open, geographical space, a space of trajectories, and of varieties of
pathings (parcours). We see this in the countryside, plains, hills and
forests through which Molloy pursues the search for his mother, and
Moran the search for Molloy. We see this also in the city and the streets
of The Expelled, and even, despite tending towards uniform abstraction,
the underground of black mud in which, in How It Is, the larva of essen-
tial humanity crawl. We see it once again in the beautiful ower-covered
Irish and Scottish hilltops, through which the old couple of Enough
wanders in happiness.
In these spaces of wandering, just as in the closed spaces, Becketts
inclination is to work towards suppressing all descriptive ornamentation.
The result is a screened image of the earth and sky, a space of wandering,
of course, but a space that itself is a sort of motionless simplicity. We nd
the ultimate purging of the space of the trajectory, or of the possible
space for all movement in a work called Lessness: Grey sky no cloud no
sound no stir earth ash grey [noir grise] sand. Little body same grey as the
CONDITIONS
256
earth sky ruins only upright. Ash grey all sides earth sky as one all sides
endlessness.
Once its ctive purication is attained, the space of being (or the appa-
ratus that attests to the question of being in the form of the site) could be
termed a blackgrey.
3
That might be enough.
What is the blackgrey? It is a black that no light can be supposed to
contrast with; it is an un-contrasted black. This black is sufciently grey
that no light can be opposed to it as its Other. Abstractly, the site of being
is ctioned as a blackgrey enough to be anti-dialectical, distinct from
every contradiction with the light. The blackgrey is a black that has to be
taken in its own disposition and that forms no pair with anything else.
What is effectuated in this blackgrey, in which the thinking of being is
localized, is a progressive fusion of closure and of open, or errant, space.
Little by little, in Becketts poetics this is one achievement of his prose
the enclosed and the open become merged together in the blackgrey,
and it turns out to be impossible to know whether it is destined to move-
ment or rather to motionlessness. The gure that goes and the gure
that remains at rest are superposed in the site of being. We see this
superposition accomplished in How It Is, in which generic humanitys
two major gures are presented as being voyage and xity, two gures
that nonetheless inhere in the same space, whereas these metaphors of
localization, wandering and closure, remain disjunct between Molloy,
which is the novel of the trajectory, and Malone Dies, which is the site of
saying xed in the point of death.
This nal and unique site, the anti-dialectical blackgrey, does not come
within the realm of clear and distinct ideas. The question of being, grasped
in its localization, cannot be distinguished or separated out through any
ideal articulation. In Molloy we nd this peremptory anti-Cartesian state-
ment: I think so, yes, I think that all that is false may more readily be
reduced, to notions clear and distinct, distinct from all other notions.
Here the Cartesian criterion of self-evidence is inverted, and we can
see why: if the blackgrey localizes being, then attaining the true of being
demands thinking the un-separated, the in-distinct. On the other hand,
that which separates and distinguishes, separates, for example, black
from light, thus constitutes the site of non-being and the false.
Last, localization in the blackgrey entails that the being of being cannot
be uttered as some isolable singularity but uniquely as void. When there
is a ction that proceeds to merge the black of wandering and the black
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
257
of motionlessness, we observe that this site presents a form of being that
can be called the nothing, or the void, and that has no other name.
This maxim, which from the localization of being in the blackgrey
attains the void as the name of what is localized, is basically established
from the time of Malone Dies. Malones voice begins by warning us that
what is at stake is a fearsome phrase, one of those phrases that pollute
the whole of speech. This phrase is: Nothing is more real than nothing.
The cardinal statement about being pollutes the whole of speech with
its inconceivable truth. Many variations will follow, but the most accom-
plished can be found in Worstward Ho. In this text, we nd, for example,
this: All save void. No, Void too. Unworsenable void. Never less. Never
more. Never since rst said never unsaid never worse said never not
gnawing to be gone.
Such is the ultimate point to which the merged ctioning of the place
of being enables us to attest: that being as void in-exists in language,
because it is subtracted from every degree. But it is precisely its being sub-
tracted from language that sets it in between the rst two categories, that
is, movement and rest, and the third, speech or logos.
That being qua being is subtracted from language is said by Beckett in
many ways, but above all, perhaps, by the always possible equivalence
between said and missaid. This equivalence does not form an opposi-
tion between saying (something) well and saying (it) badly, instead it
inheres in the missaid as the essence of saying; it claims that being inex-
ists in language, and that, as a consequence, as Molloy puts it, all lan-
guage is a gap of language.
The principal effect of this conviction involves severing being and
existence. Existence is that whereof one can talk, whereas the being of
existence remains subtracted from the network of signications and
inexists in language.
Despite only being deployed in its veritable ctional operator (the black
grey) quite late in Becketts work, this scission between being and exis-
tence with regard to language is visible in it very early on. Already in his
First Love from 1945 we come across this: But I have always spoken, no
doubt always shall, of things that never existed, or that existed if you
insist, no doubt always will, but not with the existence I ascribe to them.
This ne line separating the thing that does not exist and the same
thing that, as embraced by speech, exists but always in a different exis-
tence, returns us to the equilibrium of the Heraclitean mirlitonnade: the
CONDITIONS
258
lets speak about it must operate in the site of being, in the site of the
blackgrey, which maintains an undecidable distinction between exis-
tence and the being of existence.
The clearest formulation of this question is perhaps to be found in
Watt. Following an ontological tradition that Beckett revived in his own
way, we may call Presence being as it inexists in language, and more
generally what of being remains unpresented in the existent. If being is
presented in the blackgrey site where existence is indistinguished, then
we can decree that this Presence is neither illusion (the sceptical thesis),
nor a veritable and utterable comprehension (the dogmatic thesis), but a
certitude without concept. Here is what Beckett said about it:
So I shall merely state, without enquiring how it came, or how it
went, that in my opinion it was not an illusion, as long as it lasted,
that presence of what did not exist, that presence without, that pres-
ence within, that presence between, though Ill be buggered if I can
understand how it could have been anything else.
This text tells us three things. First, presence, which is the givenness
(donation) of being of that which is not in a position to exist, is not an illu-
sion. Second, it is at once distributed inside and outside, but its chosen place
is doubtless rather the between, the interval. And, third, it is impossible to
say more than that it is subtracted from existence, and, so as a result, pres-
ence does not infer any meaning. This impossible, moreover, is really also
an interdiction, which points crudely to the vocabulary of castration.
We understand clearly why there can be no clear and distinct idea of
presence. Because what thereof is left to us is a pure proper name, the
void or the nothing. This name is the beam of the Heraclitean scales; it
clearly suggests, in its absence of sense, a genuine being, not an illusion
but actually a non-being, since what it refers to is the inexistence of
being, which is inherent to its unsayable givenness.
If the ctional apparatus of the blackgrey was all there was, the virtues
of which we have exhausted, then we would have to agree with a com-
ment often made about Becketts work, that we are very close to a
negative theology. But there is an underneath of the localization of being,
something that cannot be reduced to the being of the inexistent, and that
is reection as such, the cogito. Since the one for whom there is the
blackgrey, and unsayable presence, does not cease to reect and phrase
both localization and its impasse.
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
259
In a certain sense, this movement from the void to the cogito is itself
very Cartesian, despite the anti-Cartesian statements I have cited (con-
cerning the criterion of self-evidence), and we know that Beckett indeed
drew nourishment from Descartes. This referral back to the cogito is
explicit in numerous texts, and is set out in an entirely rational fashion in
the argument of Film, even if it is with an ironic take on this rationality.
Film is a lm, indeed the lm, about a single character played by Buster
Keaton. It is about a man an object O, said Beckett who ees because
he is being pursued by an eye whose name is OE. Hence the lm is the
story of the pursuit of O by OE, and not until the end of the lm do we
realize that the pursuer and the pursuant, eye and man, form an identity.
When he published the script, Beckett introduced it with a text entitled
Esse est percipi, in which we nd this:
All extraneous perception suppressed, animal, human, divine, self-
perception maintains in being.
Search of non-being in ight from extraneous perception breaking
down in inescapability of self-perception.
Here we nd the argument of the cogito, save for the ironical nuance
that is involved in replacing the search for truth by the search for non-
being, and the inversion of values of the inescapability of self-perception,
which for Descartes was a foremost victory of certainty, but that here
appears as a failure. What exactly is this a failure to do? Precisely to extend
the Whole, the subject included, to the general form of being, which is the
void. The cogito causes this extension to fail: there is something that exists
whose being cannot inexist, and that is the subject of the cogito.
This brings us into the vicinity of the second question, after that of the
site of being: the question of the subject such as it is caught in the closure
of the cogito, which is also actually that of enunciation submitted to tor-
ture by the imperative of the statement.
3. OF THE SOLIPSISTIC SUBJECT AS TORTURE
The ctional apparatus that deals with the closure of the cogito organizes
the best-known part of Becketts work. This apparatus is that of the
motionless voice, of the voice that is assigned to residence by a body. This
CONDITIONS
260
body is mutilated and captive, reduced to being no more than the xed
localization of the voice. It is enchained, nailed to a hospital bed, or planted
in a jar that serves as publicity for a restaurant opposite some abattoirs.
It is a doubly enclosed I in the xity of the body and in the persistence
of a voice without either echo or response that endlessly strives to nd
a way to its identication.
What does identication consist in for this repetitious (ressassante)
4
voice of the cogito? It involves producing, with a stream of statements,
fables, narrative ctions and concepts, the pure and silent point of enun-
ciation itself. Of course, this pure point of enunciation, this always ante-
rior, or presupposed, I, being that by which the voice and statements
are possible, being the site of being of the voice, is itself subtracted from
all naming. The unrelenting stake of the solipsistic voice, or the voice of
the cogito, is to arrive at this originary silence in which the being of enun-
ciation inheres, and that is the subjective condition of statements. Being
identied necessitates entering this silence in which all speech nds its
support. This was the hope of the hero of The Unnamable: there were
moments I thought that would be my reward for having spoken so long
and so valiantly, to enter living into silence . . .
This entering silence, which holds death at bay (still living), was per-
fectly described by Maurice Blanchot as a repetition (ressassement) of
writing, which at once effectuates its point of enunciation, and wants to
capture it, to signify it.
Beckett, of course, would proceed to observe that this point of identi-
cation the silent being of all speech cannot be accessed via the state-
ment at all. But it would be too simple to think that this inaccessibility
derives from a formal paradox, that is, from a necessity according to
which the condition of being of all naming is itself unnameable. The gure
of the impossible, or of the unnameable is more tortuous; it brings
together two determinations that are engaged in Becketts prose with an
insistence without hope.
The rst is that the conditions of this operation, the cogitos conditions
within the sole means of its capture by a xed voice, are very precisely
intolerable, fraught as they are with anguish and mortal exhaustion.
The second is that upon close examination we start to see that the situ-
ation of the cogito is far more complex than simple reection. In effect,
it involves not just two but three terms. The schema of Film, which
contains the eye and the object, is inadequate.
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
261
The conditions of the cogito, or of a thought of thought, are terribly
demanding, since the voice is never repetitious or mobile enough, but
equally never insistent, or motionless, enough. That would require that
a regime of voice be found that is simultaneously located at the heights
of vehemence and the vociferant multiple, and in a state of restraint, of
the almost-nothing, the out of breath. The voice does not succeed in
attaining this point of equilibrium, and the unnameable, which would
be just in the caesura of these two contrary registers, escapes it.
This is because, to attain it, an internal violence is necessary, a superego
fury, that is capable of submitting, in the proper sense, the subject of the
cogito to the question, to torture. That would necessitate that the avowal
of its silence be extorted. Beckett stressed that if the I think comes to
mark its own thinking-being, if thinking wants to grasp itself as the
thinking of thought, then a reign of terror begins. This is not without
echoes of the famous letter in which Mallarm, in a paroxystic state of
crisis and anguish, declared: My thought has thought itself, and I am
perfectly dead. Beckett, for his part, pointed to suffering rather than to
death: I only think [i.e. the hero of The Unnamable], if that is the name
for this vertiginous panic as of hornets smoked out of their nest, once a
certain degree of terror has been exceeded.
The I think presupposes terror, which alone constrains the voice to
over-extend (se sur-tendre) towards itself in order to withdraw, as much
as possible, towards its point of enunciation. As with all terror, it is also
given as an imperative without concept; it imposes a repetitious insis-
tence that does not let up and admits of no way out. This imperative,
which is indifferent to all possibility, this terrorist commandment to have
to maintain what cannot be, concludes The Unnamable: I must go on,
I cant go on, Ill go on.
Here what is necessary is exactly what is impossible, the continuation of
the repetitious insistence of the voice is also the voice of intolerable tor-
ture. Throughout The Unnamable the speakers face streams with tears.
The cogitos heroism marks an impasse. Next, after The Unnamable,
follow the Texts for Nothing, which very precisely occupies the place
of death: the place in which the temptation to abandon the imperative
to write insists, the temptation to have a rest from the cogitos torture.
This is the moment in which the relation between I must go on and
I cant go on is so tense that the writer is not certain to be able to sustain
it any longer.
CONDITIONS
262
In Texts for Nothing Beckett proceeds in a fashion that is more theoreti-
cal and less bound to the fearsome ctional apparatuses of the solipsistic
subject. Apart from its torturing and intolerable conditions, their princi-
pal discovery is that, because identication is impossible, the cogito is
ultimately without nality. The imperative addressed to the I concerning
the naming of its founding silence is object-less. The cogito is in effect not
an instance of reection, a Two the couple of the statement and the
enunciation it delineates a triplicity. The I has three instances, which
cannot be reduced to One, except under conditions of total exhaustion,
of the subjects total dissipation.
On this point, the key text is twelfth Text For Nothing, one of Becketts
densest and most purely theoretical texts. The passage from it here
performs an analytic decomposition of the cogito:
one who speaks saying, without ceasing to speak, Whos speaking?,
and one who hears, mute, uncomprehending, far from all [. . .]. And
this other [. . .] with his babble of homeless mes and untenanted hims
[. . .]. Theres a pretty three in one, and what a one, what a no one.
What is the distribution of this infernal three-in-one?
1. First, there is the subject of enunciation, the Who speaks, a
so-called reexive subject of enunciation, one also capable of
asking Who speaks, of enunciating the question himself. This is the
subject the hero of The Unnamable strives in terror to identify.
2. Second, there is the subject of passivity, who hears without under-
standing, who is far from all in that he is like the other side, the
obscure matter of the one who speaks, the passive being of the
subject of enunciation.
3. Last, there is the subject who upholds the question of identica-
tion, the one who, by means of enunciation and passivity, insists
on the question concerning what he is, and who, in so doing,
submits himself to torture.
The subject is thus pulled between the subject of enunciation, the
subject of passivity and the questioning subject. The third is basically the
one for whom the relationship of the rst two, the relationship between
enunciation and passivity, is a question.
Enunciation, passive reception, question: such is the pretty three in
one that makes up the Beckettian subject. Yet, if we try to conjoin them,
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
263
to count all three as One, all we nd is the void of being, a nothing that
is worthless. Why it is worthless? Because the void of being does not
claim to be the question of its being. Whereas, in the case of the subject,
we have the terrorizing divagation of the question, which would turn
identifying torture into a bitter buffoonery were it to resolve into the
pure and simple void. Every question entails a regime of values (of what
value is the response?), and if in the end we nish by simply rediscover-
ing what was there well prior to every question, in other words, being as
the blackgrey, then the inferred value is nil.
Obviously, it might then be thought that all questions are to be
abandoned. Does rest, serenity, the end of the torturing question of
identity, not reside in a pure and simple coincidence with the place
|of being, with this unquestionable blackgrey? Why prefer the silence of
the point of enunciation to silence such as it is, and has always been,
in the anti-dialectical identity of being? Can the subject not rejoin the
place where every question is absent, and leave aside, leave off the
dead-end path of its identity?
Well, no, it cannot. The question, because it is one of those instances of
the subjective trio, irrevocably insists. Beckett said expressly, in Ill Seen
Ill Said, that it is impossible to return to a place, or a time, in which the
question is abolished:
Was it ever over and done with questions? Dead the whole brood no
sooner hatched. Long before. In the egg. Long before. Over and done
with answering. With not being able. With no being able not to want to
know. With not being able. No. Never. A dream. Question Answered.
The idea that the subjective trio can be disarticulated by suppressing its
questioning instance is impracticable. One can never return to the imme-
morial peace of the blackgrey; there never was a time, or a place, where
the questions were dead the whole brood no sooner hatched.
We are in a complete deadlock. The cogito is literally intolerable and yet
also ineluctable. Solipsism engaged in the process of identication is
interminable and futile; it can no longer sustain writing, but the place of
being cannot welcome us any longer either. This is the reason why Beck-
etts texts are texts for nothing. They express, with extraordinary lucidity,
the nothing of the attempt underway. They report not that there is
nothing (Beckett was never a nihilist), but that writing has nothing more
to assert. This text tells us of the truth of a situation, namely, Becketts
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264
at the end of the 1950s: what he had written until this point could not
go on any further. It was impossible to go on alternating without any
mediation between the neutrality of the blackgrey of being and the
interminable torture of the solipsistic cogito. Writing could no longer be
sustained by this alternation.
And yet Beckett did go on. So, unless we understand his continuation
as a mere obsession, or as some servility to an imperative of acknowl-
edged vacuity, then we must inquire into the point through which it
passed. It passed, I am convinced, through a veritable intellectual
and artistic mutation, and more precisely through a modication in his
orientation of thought.
4. THE MUTATION OF BECKETTS OEUVRE AFTER 1960
Becketts undertaking cannot be said to have progressed from its initial
parameters in a linear fashion. Contrary to commonly held critical
opinion, it is quite erroneous to argue that it became ever deeper engulfed
in despair, in nihilism, in the undermining of sense.
In the medium of prose, what Beckett dealt with were problems; his
oeuvre is by no means the expression of a spontaneous metaphysics. Once
these problems became stuck in an apparatus of prose that did not admit,
or no longer did, of any solution, this apparatus and its corresponding
ctions were displaced, transformed, and even destroyed by Beckett.
No doubt this is what occurred at the end of the 1950s following the
Texts for Nothing. How It Is, ultimately a little-known work, marks a major
mutation in the way that Beckett ctioned his thought. This text breaks
with the confrontation between the torturing cogito and the neutrality
of the blackgrey of being. Beckett attempted to set out from entirely
different categories, namely, that of the what happens (which was
present in his work from the beginning but is reworked here), and that,
above all, of alterity, of the encounter, of the gure of the Other, which
ssures and displaces solipsistic imprisonment.
To maintain conformity with these categories of thought, Becketts
literary montage itself also underwent a series of major transformations.
The canonical form of the rst Beckett ctions alternates, as we
saw, between trajectories, or wanderings and xities, or constrained
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265
monologues. This was slowly replaced by what I would like to call the
gural poem of postures of the subject. Prose was no longer able to sustain its
usual novelist functions, that is, description and narration, not even
when reduced to their bare bones (the blackgrey that does not describe
being, and a pure wandering that recounts only itself). Such is the dispo-
sition of the ctive functions of prose that leads me to speak of the poem.
And the stakes of this poetics, as regards the subject, no longer concern
the question of its identity, in the torturing way it was executed in the
monologue of The Unnamable. At issue are rather occurrences of the sub-
ject, of its possible positions, of the enumeration of its gures. Rather
than by the never-ending and futile ctive reection on self, the subject
is now indicated by the variety of the dispositions it enters in dealing
with encounters, with the what is happening, with all that supplements
being in the instantaneous surprise of the Other.
To pursue the discontinuity of the gure of the subject, which is
contrasted with the insistent repetition of the Same such as it is beset by
its own speech, Becketts prose became more segmented, and adopted
the paragraph as a musical unity. The subjects apprehension in thought
was to be carried out in a thematic frame: recurrences, repetitions of the
same statements in context that slowly alter, re-takes, loops and so on.
This evolution, I believe, is typical of what I have tried to think under
the name of the writing of the generic. From the moment that what was
involved was a generic truth of humanity, the narrative model, even
when reduced to the line of a pure trajectory, was insufcient, as was the
internal solipsistic monologue, even one productive of ctions and
fables. Neither the technique of Molloy, nor that of Malone Dies, which
remained quite close to Kafkas procedures, could bend prose sufciently
enough to what there is of indiscernible in a generic truth.
In order to grasp the lacunary intricacies of the subject, that into which
it is split up, the triplet monologuedialoguenarrative must be deposed.
Yet, we cannot thereby speak of the poem in any strict sense: the opera-
tions of the poem, always afrmative, do not ction anything. I should
rather say that the prose is, in its paragraph-by-paragraph segmentation,
governed by a latent or implicit poem. The latent poem holds the givens of
the text together, but without itself being given. What appears at the
texts surface are thematic recurrences and their slowed movement
a movement that is fundamentally regulated, or unied, by a latent
poetical matrix.
CONDITIONS
266
The latent poem either moves closer to or further away from the texts
surface. In Lessness, for example, it is almost given, while in Imagination
Dead Imagine it is deeply buried. In all cases, there is a sort of subversion
of prose and its destiny of ction by the poem that never actually enters
into poetry. It is this subversion without transgression that Beckett nely
honed, with many regrets, between 1960 and his death, as the sole
regime of prose adequate to a generic intention.
From a more abstract viewpoint, Becketts evolution passed from a
programme of the One the relentlessness of a trajectory or an intermi-
nable soliloquy to the fecund theme of the Two, by which it opens to
the innite. This discovery of the multiple then leads to combinations
and hypotheses that can be likened to a cosmology, and that are grasped
in their literal or given objectivity not as suppositions but as situations.
Last, there is a passage from an apparatus of ctions, which sometimes
also includes allegorical stories, to a semi-poetic apparatus that works to
construct situations. These situations make possible an enumeration of
the misfortunes and the fortunes of the subject.
On the question of the Other, this new project comes to oscillate
between reports of failure and victorious insights. It can be argued that
in Happy Days, in Enough and in Ill Seen Ill Said, there is, under the
signier of happiness which not even twists of irony can abolish an
inexion of a predominately positive tone. By contrast, in Company,
which nishes with the word alone, there is a nal deconstruction of
what, in the sublime of night, will, along the way, have been only the
ction of a Two. But this oscillation is itself a principle of opening. In fact,
the second part of Becketts oeuvre opens up to chance, and chance
disposes of equal possibilities of success and lack thereof, of the encoun-
ter and the non-encounter, of alterity and solitude. Chance is what saved
Beckett from falling back on the secret schemas of predestination that
were still very evident in Watt and How It Is.
In the earlier part of Becketts work, we certainly nd many traces of
this rupture with the schema of predestination, of an opening to the
hazardous possibility that there is not only what there is, that is, traces
related to the mute presentation of the schema itself. I am thinking for
example of the moment when Molloy declares: One is what one is, at
least in part. This in part concedes a point of non-self-identity, in
which the peril of a freedom is lodged. This concession makes room for
the judgement of Enough: Stony ground but not entirely. There is a
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267
breaching (brchement) of being, a subtraction from the indifferent
ingratitude of the blackgrey. Or to use one of Lacans concepts, there is
some not-whole, as much in the coincidence of self to self that speech is
exhausted in situating, as in the ingratitude of the earth.
What is the gap in the whole of being and of the self? What is it that
is held there, that something that is simultaneously the not-whole of
the subject and the grace of a supplement to the monotony of being?
This is the question of the event, of the what-is-happening. We no
longer ask: what is being insofar as it is?, nor can the subject beset by
speech rejoin his silent identity?. We ask: Is something happening?
and, more precisely: Can we name an emergence, an incalculable advent
which detotalizes being and wrenches the subject from the predestina-
tion of its identity?
5. EVENT, SIGNIFICATION, NOMINATION
Some of Becketts earliest writings are animated by an interrogation
into that which happens, and into the possibility of thinking the event
insofar as it comes forth. In a book written in the 1940s, Watt, it is central.
But it was largely obliterated by the works that made Beckett known,
which, apart from Waiting for Godot, basically include the trilogy of Molloy,
Malone Dies and the Unnamable. What was retained from these works
was that, precisely, in the end nothing happens. Godot will never come;
he is nothing but the promise of his coming. And, in this sense, the event
is akin to the woman in Claudel: a promise that cannot be kept.
In Watt, by contrast, we come across the crucial problem of what the
hero calls incidents, which however are very real.
Watt disposes an allegorical, structural place, which is the house of
Mr. Knott. This place is immemorial and invariant, and it is being as the
Whole and as Law.
nothing could be added to Mr Knotts establishment, and from it
nothing taken away, but that as it was now, so it had been in the
beginning, and so it would remain to the end, in all essential respects,
any signicant presence, at any time, and here all presence was
signicant, even though it was impossible to say of what, proving that
presence at all times . . .
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268
Mr. Knotts house binds together presence and signication so tightly
together that there can be no thinkable breaching of its being, by means
of either supplement or subtraction. All one can do is reect the Law of
invariance of the place of being: how does the house function in time?
Where is Mr. Knott to be found at such and such a given moment? In the
garden, or in the upper stories? These are questions relative to pure
knowledge, to the science of the place and that work to rationalize a sort
of Waiting for Mr. Knott.
But, in addition to the law of place and its doubtful science, there is
and this is what arouses Watts passion as a thinker the problem of inci-
dents. Of these incidents, Beckett said, in a wonderful expression, that
they are of brilliant formal clarity and of impenetrable content. What are
these incidents? Among the most remarkable, we might mention the visit
of a piano tuner and his son, or the dumping on his doorstep of slops des-
tined for dogs whose origins are themselves an impenetrable question.
What solicits thought is the contradiction between the formal bril-
liance of the incident, its isolation, its exceptional status and the opacity
of its content. Watt does his utmost to form hypotheses about the said
content, and therewith is his thought genuinely aroused. Here there is
no question of a cogito that is held under the voices torturing strictures,
but of surmises and of appreciations aimed at bringing the content of the
incidents up to the brilliance of their form.
In Watt, however, a limit is set to this investigation, a limit that Beckett
only crossed much later on: the hypotheses about the incidents are bound
up in a problematic of signication. Here we remain within an attempt of a
hermeneutical type, the stakes of which are to relate, through a well-
conducted interpretation, the incident to the established universe of signi-
cations. Here is the passage in which the hierarchy of possibilities are laid
out as they appear to Watt as an interpreter of incidents, or hermeneut:
the meaning attributed to this particular type of incident, by Watt, in
his relations, was now the initial meaning that has been lost and then
recovered, and now a meaning quite distinct from the initial mean-
ing, and now a meaning evolved, after a delay of varying length, and
with greater or less pains, form the initial absence of meaning.
The hermeneut has three possibilities: if he assumes that there is a
signication to the incident, he can recover it, or propose an entirely
other one. If he assumes that it has no meaning, he can bring one forth.
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Of course, only the third hypothesis, which posits that the incident is
void of all signication, and that therefore it really is separated from the
closed universe of sense (Mr. Knotts house), awakens thought with any
lasting effect (after a delay . . .) and requires it to go to work (with
greater or less pains). However, if this were the only issue, if the inter-
preter were a giver of meaning, we would remain in thrall to meaning as
law, as imperative. The interpreter does nothing except create a connec-
tion between the incident and that from which it was initially separate:
the established universe of meanings, Mr. Knotts house. In Watt, it
is always entirely possible that something has happened, but this
that-which-happens, captured and reduced by the hermeneut, is not
maintained in its character as supplement, or breaching.
Beginning with the theatre play Endgame, Beckett will dissociate the
that-which-happens from any even invented connection to meanings.
He will posit that simply because there is an event that does not enjoin
us to nd its signication:
Hamm: What is happening?
Clov: Something is taking its course.
Hamm: Clov!
Clov: What is it?
Hamm: Were not beginning to . . . to . . . mean something?
Clov: Mean something! You and I, mean something! Ah thats
a good one!
Beckett came to replace the hermeneutics with which he began, trying
to pin the event to the network of meanings, with a wholly different oper-
ation, and which is that of naming. As regards a hazardous supplementa-
tion of being, naming will not look for meaning, but instead propose to
draw an invented name from the void itself of what happens. After inter-
pretation we then arrive at a nominal poetics whose whole stake is to x
the incident, to preserve in language a trace of its separation.
The poetics of naming is central to Ill Seen Ill Said, starting with the very
title. For what does ill seen mean? It means that what happens is neces-
sarily outside the laws of visibility of the place of being. What really hap-
pens cannot be well seen (or looked well upon, including in the moral
sense of the expression), because the well-seen always comprises that
which is framed by the blackgrey of being, and therefore does not have
the capacity of isolation and of surprise of the incidentevent. And what
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270
does ill said mean? Saying-well is precisely the order of established
meanings. Yet, if we arrive at producing the name of what comes insofar
as it comes, the name of the ill seen, this name could not then be encom-
passed by signications attached to the monotonousness of the place.
It is therefore of the register of the ill said. Ill seen ill said designates the
possible agreement between that which, being ill seen, is subtracted from
the visible, and that which, being ill said, is subtracted from signica-
tions. It is therefore question of the agreement between an event and the
poetics of its name.
On this point consider the following decisive passage:
During the inspection a sudden sound. Startling without consequence
for the gaze the mind awake. How explain it? And without going so
far how say it? Far behind the eye the quest begins. What time the
event recedes. When suddenly to the rescue it comes again. Forth-
with the uncommon common noun collapsion. Reinforced a little
later if not enfeebled by the infrequent slumberous. A slumberous
collapsion. Two. Then far from the still agonizing eye a gleam of hope.
By the grace of these modest beginnings.
The passage, essentially, speaks of itself. The inspection is accorded
with visibility; it is the well-seen, which is moreover presented as a
kind of torture. During this torturing subordination to the law of the
place there is in a classic suddenness indicative of evental supplemen-
tation a noise. This noise is an outside-place, is isolated in its formal
clarity, is in-visible, ill seen. The whole problem here is to invent a name
that suits it, Beckett rejecting in due course the hypothesis, in appear-
ance more ambitious, in reality less free, of an explanation that would
consists in a saying-well of the ill seen.
That the name of eventnoise is a poetic invention, is signied by
Beckett by means of the paradoxical alliance between collaspion and
slumberous, the one uncommon, the other infrequent. This naming
appears suddenly from the void of language, as a saying-ill adequate
to the ill seen of the noise.
Still more important is that, when slumberous collapsion is expressed
as the suddenness of a noise, as a poetic wager on the ill seen, then, and
only then, is there a gleam of hope.
What hope can one have here? The hope of a truth. Of a truth that
comes to make an incision in the blackgrey, suspended from the naming
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271
of an event that will eclipse itself. A moment of grace, the grace of these
modest beginnings. A truth can have no other beginning than one
wherein a poetic name, a name without signication, is granted to a
separable supplement that, obscure as it may be, ill seen as it is said to be,
is nevertheless subtracted from the blackgrey of being, is of brilliant
formal clarity.
Thus, the eld of truth is opened, which in its separable origin is a eld
of alterity. The nomination keeps under its watch a trace of an Other-
than-being, which is also an Other-than-self.
With this the subject is dis-closed (d-clt) from its enclosure, and enters
the perils of the Other, of its occurrences and its gures. It does so marked
by the hope opened up by ontological alterity, by the breach of being that
crystallizes the suddenness of the event, the brilliance of the ill-seen.
6. FIGURES OF THE SUBJECT AND FORMULAS OF SEXUATION
In the texts written after 1960, Beckett was continuously occupied with
putting gures of the subject into the form of a tale. The most signicant
montages are the very structuralist The Lost Ones published in 1970,
and How It Is.
In both cases, the ction brings together an abstract place that con-
notes no established gure of the sensible. There are no longer any for-
ests or owers of wandering, nor the enclosure of an asylum-like room.
Space is homogeneous, regulated, subject to strict parameters, one has
the premonition an exact science could be at work. Such coded spaces
evoke a portable cosmology, but also Dantes hell. Their bareness makes
it possible to focus attention on the subjects gural dispositions.
In The Lost Ones, this place is a great cylinder made of rubber in which
precise, empirically observable, but conceptually unknown laws govern
variations in light, sounds and temperatures. It is a simple, puried
cosmos, reduced to a complex made of an enclosure and a legality. Inside
of it is a small people comprising persons busily obeying a single impera-
tive: search for your lost one. This persistent imperative is no longer, as
in The Unnamable, one of identication; at issue is no longer to say
oneself or to return to oneself at the pure point of silence. The imperative
consists in nding the other, or more precisely in looking for ones other.
CONDITIONS
272
The story starts thus: Abode where lost bodies roam each searching for
its lost one.
A Lost One is one who, because it is ones own lost one, singularizes
one, extracts one from the anonymous status of those who are only lost
among the people of searchers. To be a lost one is to come to oneself in
the encounter with ones other.
The quest for the other is constant and varied. One runs around just
about everywhere in the cylinder, one climbs up ladders to nd out if the
lost ones might not be in one of the niches placed at different heights,
which is a very tricky exercise, whose mishaps are described by Beckett
in great detail. But, ultimately, we are able to identify four gures of the
search, and therefore four gures of the subject, four possible gures for
each one who seeks his lost one.
Grosso modo, there are two criteria for the typology of gures. The rst
criterion contrasts those who search and those who have given up
searching. That is, those who still live their lives according to the sole
imperative and those who have given up on this imperative, which is the
same thing as giving up on ones desire, since there exists no other desire
than that of nding ones lost one. These defeated searchers Beckett calls
the vanquished. To be vanquished, let us remark, is never to be vanquished
by the other, it is to renounce the other.
The second criterion originates in the Platonic categories of rest and
movement, whose importance for Becketts thought I have already sig-
nalled. There are searchers who are perpetually in motion, there are
others who sometimes pause, and others again who stop frequently, and
even some who move no longer.
So that in the end we have four kinds of subject:
1. Searchers who move are perpetually in motion, who could be called
nomads, and who comprise the initial living, for example, babies.
Babies never cease moving, naturally while on their mothers backs,
but without stopping at all. Mothers are also in this category; they
cannot be motionless for a single instant.
2. Searchers who sometimes stop, who pause to rest.
3. Searchers who are denitively motionless, or have been for a
long time, but who and this is very important continue to
look with their eyes for their lost one. Nothing of them moves
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273
apart from their eyes, which move about without respite in all
directions.
4. Non-searchers, the vanquished.
Those who are permanently motionless or have been for a long time
are called the sedentaries. The junction of the criterion of the imperative
(seek) and the criterion of movement radically distinguishes the two
gures at the extremities, that is, on the one hand, the totally nomadic
living, and, on the other, the vanquished. Between these two gures,
there is partial and total sedentariness.
The principle underlying this distribution of gures is the following:
from the moment that the law of desire is the search for the other, this
search can never be interrupted, except in the approximation of death
that is irreversibility. The moment that one gives up on ones desire it is
for good. The one who stops getting around enters into a state of seden-
tarization, then into the gure of the vanquished.
This is so if one takes things from the side of life, from the side of the
imperative to search for the lost one. For, taking things from the other
side, that of sedentariness, there exist many possibilities, ranging from
partial to total motionlessness. More, and herein is contained all
of Becketts paradoxical optimism, there can even come about this
miracle: the return (rare, almost never, but there are some cases) of
one of the vanquished to the arena of the search. There is a twist in
the set-up here: giving up on the imperative is irreversible, but the result
(or the punishment) of this defeat, which is apathetic motionlessness, is
not irreversible. And again: irreversibility is a law of decision, of the
moment it does not regulate a state of affairs. Grasped in its conse-
quences, in its gures, and not in its pure moment, irreversibility is not
irreversible.
The maxims of the subject can therefore be stated thus: to give up is
irreversible, but there exists all the possibilities even when nothing is
there to attest to them, internal to the gures of sedentariness. Beckett
said so in an extraordinarily concise passage, very abstract and very
profound concerning the link between an imperative and the eld of
possibles in which the imperative is carried out: in the cylinder what
little is possible is not so it is merely not longer so and in the least less the
all of nothing if this notion is maintained.
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274
The least failure is total (since less = nothing), but no possible is
eliminated (since not-possible = provisionally no longer possible).
The ethics of the cylinder knows no eternal damnation, but nor any
adaptation to the imperative of the Other. A gure of the subject is that
which distributes the two variants of this ethics.
In How It Is the description of the gures of the subject accords with a
different ctional montage, a montage that will take us closer to the
crucial problem of the Two.
Beckett did, of course, maintain that there exist four major gures.
There are always four gures, one cannot get outside of these four, the
problem is to know which are nameable.
A passing remark: no doubt you are aware of Lacans thesis about what
can be said of the truth. A truth is not able to be said in full; it can only
be half-said (mi-dite). The portion of truth Beckett stated can be said
regarding the truth of subjective gures is a little different. Because only
three of the four gures can be named, in this matter the saying of truth
is increased to three-quarters: of the three quarters of our total life only
three lend themselves to communication.
The four gural postures of the subject in How It Is are the following:
1. Wander in the dark with a bag.
2. Meet someone in the active position, come down on top of him
in the dark. This is the position of the so-called executioner.
3. Be abandoned motionless in the dark by the one encountered.
4. Be encountered by someone in the passive position (this someone
comes down on top of you while you are motionless in the dark.
This is the position called victim. It is this fourth gure that the
voice does not contrive to say, which leads to the axiom of three-
quarters concerning the relation between truth and speech.
Such are the generic gures of everything that can befall a member
of humanity. It is important to note that these gures are egalitarian.
There is no particular hierarchy in this apparatus, nothing that might
indicate that such or such of the four gures must be desired, preferred
or distributed in a fashion different to the others. The words execu-
tioner and victim should not mislead us on this matter. Besides, Beck-
ett took care to inform us that there is something exaggerated in these
conventional denominations, something falsely pathetic. We shall see,
moreover, that the position of the victim, like that of the executioner,
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275
designates everything that by way of happiness may exist in life. No, the
gures are only the generic avatars of existence, they are equal to one
another and this intrinsic equality of destiny legitimates the following
remarkable statement: In any case, one is within justice, I have never
heard said the contrary? The justice mentioned here, which is a judge-
ment on collective being, obviously is not related to any sort of nality.
It uniquely concerns the intrinsic ontological equality of the gures of
the subject.
In this typology, we are nevertheless able to group together, on the one
hand, the gures of solitude and, on the other, the gures of the Two.
The gures of the Two are the executioner and the victim, postures
that follow a chance encounter in the dark, and that are tied together in
the extortion of speech, in the violent incitement of a narrative. This is
life in stoic love.
The two gures of solitude are: wander in the dark with ones bag; and
be motionless because one has been abandoned.
The bag is very important. In fact, it lends weight to the best proof
I know of the existence of God: every traveller nds his bag, more or less
lled with tins of conserve, and God is the best hypothesis as to why
this is so; all the others Beckett drew up the list are extraordinarily
complicated.
Let us note that travel and motionlessness, as the two gures of
solitude, are the results of a separation. Travel is that of a victim who
abandons his executioner, and motionlessness in the dark that of an
abandoned executioner. It is clear that these gures are sexuated, but
only implicitly. Beckett did not state the words man and woman,
precisely because they all too easily lead back to a structural, permanent
Two. Well, the Two of the victim and the executioner, of their travels and
motionlessness, suspended from the chance of the encounter, do not
full any pre-existing duality.
Actually, the gures of solitude are sexuated by means of two great
existential theorems whose self-evidence is woven together in How It Is:
rst theorem: only a woman travels;
second theorem: whoever is motionless in the dark is a man.
I shall leave these theorems for your mediation. What must be clearly
seen is that this doctrine of the sexes, which states that a woman is dened
by wandering, and that, if you encounter a motionless mortal in the
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276
dark, it is necessarily a man, is that this sexuation is, therefore, in no way
empirical or biological. The sexes are distributed as results on the basis of
an encounter in which the active position, said of the executioner, and
the passive position, said of the victim, are tied together in stoical love.
The sexes emerge when a mortal crawling in the dark encounters another
mortal who is, like everyone else, also crawling in the dark with a bag
full of tins of conserve. Obviously, the number of tins slowly shrinks, but
one day one will nd another bag: God sees to it that we do not cease
to crawl.
But neither do the active position and the passive position provide the
nal word on sexuation. In order to get to the bottom of it, it is necessary
to examine Becketts nal thought in itself, which establishes the power
of the Two as truth.
7. LOVE AND ITS NUMERICITY: ONE, TWO, INFINITY
One point remains the unchanged throughout all the variations of the
tale in Beckett: love is inaugurated in the pure encounter, nothing
destines it but the chance of two trajectories. Before this chance, there is
nothing but solitudes. No Two pre-exists the encounter, in particular no
duality of the sexes. To the extent the duality of the sexes is thinkable, it
is so only from the vantage point of the encounter, in the process of love,
without it being possible to presuppose that the encounter was condi-
tioned or oriented by any prior difference. The encounter is the originary
power of the Two, and so of love, and this power that nothing precedes
in its own order is practically unparalleled. In particular, it is neither
commensurable with sentiment nor with the sexual and desiring power
of the body. The encounters immeasurable excess is asserted already in
the 1930s in Murphy: To meet [. . .] in my sense exceeds the power of
feelings, however tender, and of bodily motions, however expert.
Beckett would never reduce love to those mixtures of sentimentality
and sexuality that opinion confects together in this word. Love in truth
(and not in opinion) depends on a pure event, an encounter whose
force radically exceeds both sentimentality and sexuality.
The encounter is founding of the Two as such. In the gure of love,
as it originates in the encounter, the Two unexpectedly arrives, including
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the Two of the sexes or of sexuated gures. Love is in no way (such is its
romantic version, which Beckett did not tire of ridiculing) that which
makes One from a prior Two, love never being a fusion nor an effusion.
It is a condition, often laborious, of the Twos being able to exist as Two.
For example, in Malone Dies, when Malone contrives the encounter
between Macmann and his guardian, Moll, we get an admirable tale of
love, of a love that, as the love of elderly persons, or of dying persons,
takes on an extraordinary lyrical intensity. Malone comments upon the
truth effects of this love thus: But on the long road to this what utter-
ings, alarms, and blackful fumblings, of which only this, that they gave
Macmann some insight into the meaning of the expression, Two is
company.
The Two inaugurated by the encounter, whose truth is effectuated by
love, does not remain self-enclosed. It is a passage, a pivotal point, the rst
numericity. The Two creates a passage, or authorizes the pass, between the
One of solipsism, which is the initial fact, and the innite of being and of
experience. The Two of love is a hazardous mediation for alterity in
general. It is inductive of a rupture or of an effraction of the One of the
cogito, but by this very means it cannot keep to itself, and so opens out
onto the limitless multiple of Being. We may also say that the Two of love
brings forth the advent of the sensible. Where there was nothing but the
blackgrey of being, the sensible inection of the world comes to establish
itself, within the effect of the truth of the Two. Yet, the sensible and the
innite are identical, since the innity of the world is, along with the One
of the cogito, the other logical thesis. Between these two presentative
positions, the Two of love is a force of effraction and constitution.
Indeed, that the One and the Innite are the two coherent theses
of ontology is an axiom of How It Is. The protagonist, who crawls in the
dark, says indeed: in simple words I quote on either I am alone and no
further problem or else we are innumerable and no further problem
either.
But the Two of love establishes the sensible version of this abstract
axiom, which jointly validates the thesis of the One and the thesis
of the Innite. Love releases beauty, nuance, colour. It releases what
could be called the nocturnal other, the second nocturne, which is not
that of the blackgrey of being, but of the rustling night, of the night of
leaves and plants, of the night of stars and of water. On the very strict
conditions of hard work and the encounter, the Two of love effectuates
CONDITIONS
278
the scission of the black into, on the one hand, the blackgrey of being,
and, on the other, the innitely varied black of the sensible.
And this is why in Becketts prose we come across those unexpected
poems in which, under the sign of the founding gure of the Two, some-
thing is unfurled in the night of presentation, an unfolding of the multi-
ple as such. Above all else that is what love is: a giving of permission to
the multiple, under the threat, never abolished, of the blackgrey in
which an original One sustains the torture of its identication.
Here I want to cite three of these implicit poems of prose, to make that
other Beckett heard, a Beckett of the giving and the happiness of being.
The rst is from Krapps Last Tape; it is the moment when the dying
man, who is the plays protagonist, launches into interminable opera-
tions of anamnesis (he is listening to recordings of his own voice from
each different period of his life), has himself return to the central
moment, that in which the Two of love has burst open the multiple:
upper lake, with the punt, bathed of the bank, then pushed out into
the stream and drifted. She lay stretched out on the oorboards with
her hands under her head and her eyes closed. Sun blazing down, bit
of a breeze, water nice and lively. I noticed a scratch on her thigh and
asked her how she came by it. Picking gooseberries, she said. I said
again I thought it was hopeless and no good going on and she agreed,
without opening her eyes. I asked her to look at me and after a few
moments after a few moment she did, but the eyes just slits, because
of the glare. I bent over her to get them in the shadows and they
opened. Let me in. We drifted in among the ags and stuck. They way
they went down, sighing, before the stem! I lay down across her with
my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without
moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down,
and from side to side.
Past midnight. Never knew such silence.
This, as you see, is the poem the opening onto waters, the multiple of
the absolute moment, the one in which love, even when in the state-
ment of its end, suggests the innite of the sensible.
The second quote is taken from Enough. This short text is wholly
devoted to love. In it precise connections are established between love
and innite knowledge. The two lovers, walking along bent over in a
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
279
world of ower-covered hills, are never so close as when they are speak-
ing about mathematics or astronomy:
His talk was seldom of geodesy. But we must have covered several
time the equivalent of the terrestrial equator. At an average speed of
three miles per day and night. We took ight in arithmetic. What
mental calculations bent double hand in hand! While ternary num-
bers we raised in this way to the third power sometimes in down-
pours of rain. Graving themselves in his memory as best they could
the ensuing cubes accumulated. In view of the converse operation at
a later stage. When time would have done its work.
And next we have another very beautiful passage, also from Enough, in
which the beloved man becomes that instance of knowledge in which
the sky is given in its own order:
On a gradient of one in one his head swept the ground. To what this
taste was due I cannot say. To love of the earth and the ower thou-
sand scents and hues. Or to cruder imperatives of an anatomical order.
He never raised the question. The crest once reached alas the going
down again.
I order from time to time to enjoy the sky he resorted to a little round
mirror.
Having misted it with his breath and polished it on his calf he looked
in it for the constellations. I have it! He exclaimed referring to the
Lyre or the Swan. And often he added that the sky seemed much the
same.
Love is when we can say that it is we that have the sky, and the sky
seems much the same. The multiple of Constellations is held together,
then, in the opening of the Two.
The last poem comes from Company, and is probably the one that is
most tied to the metaphor of a division of the dark, of the advent of a
second nocturne:
You are on your back at the foot of an aspen. In its trembling shade.
She at right angles propped up on her elbows head between her
hands. Your eyes opened and closed have looked in hers looking in
yours. In your dark you look in them again. Still. You feel on your
face the fringe of her long black hair stirring in the still air. Within the
CONDITIONS
280
tent of hair your faces are hidden from view. She murmurs, Listen to
the leaves. Eyes in each others eyes you listen to the leaves. In their
trembling shade.
These are citations on the Two of love as the passage from the One of
solipsism to the multiple innite of the world, and nocturnal re-splitting
of the blackgrey of being.
But in them there is further a weaving of the Two, an insistence as
delity. In Becketts work this delity organizes four functions, which
are also gures of the subject in love, and which are, I maintain (though
without being able to establish it here), the functions that organize of
every generic procedure, of the duration of love, naturally, but also of
scientic accumulation, of artistic innovation and of political tenacity.
The rst of these functions is wandering, travel, with or without the
aid of a bag, the voyage in the dark, which presents the innite chance
of the faithful trajectory of love, the crossing without stopping point that
it creates in a world henceforth exposed to the encounters effects. This
function of wandering, which How It Is gave us an abstract variant of, is
also the continuous walking of the lovers through owers and through
the hills in Enough. It inaugurates the duration of the Two; it founds a
time subject to the injunction of chance.
The second function is inverse; it is the function of motionlessness,
which stands in guard, holds, connes the xed point of the initial nam-
ing, the naming of the eventencounter, which we saw pinned the inci-
dent to its absence of signication, and establishes its supernumerary
aspect for ever in a name. That is the mad (insens) I love you, we love
each other or whatever takes its stead, and which, in each of its occur-
rences, is always pronounced for the rst time. This motionlessness is
that of the second nocturne, that of the punt caught in the ags, that of
gazes that let in the eyes of the other.
The third is the function of the imperative: always go on, even in
separation, and prescribe that separation itself is a mode of continuation.
The imperative of the Two here takes over from that of the soliloquy
(I must go on, Ill go on), but takes away from it the futile torture; it com-
mands a rigorous law of happiness, whether one is a victim or an
executioner.
The fourth is the function of narrative, which, from the vantage
point of the two, releases the latent innity of the world, recounts its
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
281
improbable unfolding, writes as it goes along, in a kind of archiving that
escorts the wandering, everything that is uncovered in what Beckett
refers to as the blessed days of blue.
Love (but also all the other generic procedures, despite being in
different orders), weaves in its singular duration these four functions:
wandering, motionlessness, imperative and narrative.
Now, for the sexes: Beckett constructed the Idea of the two sexes in
the evental hypothesis of love by combining these four functions. He
thereby determined the masculine and feminine polarities of the Two
independently of any empirical or biological sexuation.
The masculine polarity combines the function of motionlessness and
the function of imperative. To be a man is to remain motionless in love
guarding the founding name, and prescribing a law of continuation. But
since the tale function is missing, this prescriptive motionlessness is
silent. A man, in love, is the silent guardian of the name. And as the
function of wandering is also missing, to be a man in love is also to do
nothing that attests to that love, it means keeping, motionless in the
dark, to its powerful abstract conviction.
The feminine polarity combines wandering and the tale. It does not
accord with the xity of the name, but with the innity of its unfolding
in the world, with the tale of its interminable glory. It does not make do
with the sole prescription without proof; it organizes a constant enquiry,
the verication of a power. To be woman, in love is to move under a
guarding of sense, rather than of the name. And this guarding involves
the errant chance of enquires, at the same time as its continual deposi-
tion in a tale.
Love exists as a determination of this polarity, supporting the four func-
tions, distributing them in a singular fashion, and that is why love alone
compels the acknowledgement that there really exists man (motionless-
ness of the imperative, safekeeping of the name) and woman (wander-
ing of a truth, consequences of the name in a speech). Without love,
nothing would attest to the Two of the sexes. There would be One, then
another One, and not Two. There would not be man and woman.
All this leads us to a crucial doctrine, which concerns all generic proce-
dures, and which is that of their numericity.
In love, there is rst the One of solipsism, which consists in the
confrontation or the body-to-body of the cogito and the blackgrey of
being in the innite repetition (ressassement) of speech. Then there is the
CONDITIONS
282
Two, which occurs in the event of the encounter and in the incalculable
poem of its naming. And, last, there is the Innite of the sensible which
the Two traverses and develops, and in which it little by little deciphers a
truth of the Two itself. This numericity one, two, innity is specic to
the amorous procedure. It can be shown that the other truth procedures,
science, art and politics, have different numericities, that each numeric-
ity singularizes the type of procedure and makes clear that truths belong
to totally heterogeneous registers.
The numericity of love (as one, two, innity) is the place of what
Beckett, quite rightly, called happiness. Happiness also singularizes the
amorous procedure, there is only happiness in love; it is the reward
specic to this type of truth. There is pleasure in art, joy in science and
enthusiasm in politics, but in love there is happiness.
Gathered in a subject, joy, pleasure, enthusiasm and happiness all
concern the void of being in its advent in the world. In happiness, there
is the singular aspect that this void is intervallic; it is captured in the
between-the-Two, in that which creates the actual character, of the two,
and which is separation, the differences of the sexes as such. Happiness
is not at all linked to the One, to the myth of fusion; on the contrary, it
is the subjective index of a truth of difference, of the difference of the
sexes, which love alone makes effective.
And, on this point, at the heart of happiness, we again come across, of
course, sexuation, which is its site and stake. In happiness, man is the
one who is the blind guardian of separation, of the between-two. The
heroin of Enough will say: We were severed, if that is what he desired.
The masculine polarity in effect supports a desire for scission. It is not at
all a desire to return to solipsism; it is a desire for the Two to manifest
itself in the split of the between-two. There is some Twoness (de Deux)
only if there is this between-two in which the void is localized as the
Twos principle of being. Mans desire takes on form in the void, or
through the void. We might say that man desires the nothing of the Two.
Whereas the feminine polarity desires nothing but the Two, that is to say
the innite tenacity, in which the Two continues as such. This instance
of woman is magnicently stated at the very end of Enough, when in the
nothing of the Two, to the void that internally affects the Two, and that
is symbolically indicated by the fact that the man has gone off to die, the
woman contrasts the persistence, the insistence of the nothing but the
THE WRITING OF THE GENERIC
283
Two, were it simply in its memorial tracing (trace), in the tale of
wandering that is always re-done all over again:
This notion of calm comes from him. Without him I would not
have had it. Now Ill wipe out everything but the owers. No more
rain. No more mounds. Nothing but the two of us dragging through
the owers. Enough my old breasts feel his old hand.
Happiness is woman and man indistinctly; it is at once the separating
void and the conjunction that reveals it. As happiness, as a tracing
of happiness, it is the nothing of the Two and nothing but the Two,
and it is its undivided sexuation motionless and errant, imperative and
narrative.
In Ill Seen Ill Said this happiness is all that fundamentally happens,
from beginning to end. The entire beginning pivots around the word
unhappiness, whereas the end tends towards the word happiness.
And what happens between the two is that if, at the start, we set out
in the reign of visibility and the rigidity of seeing in the nocturnal grey
(in limbo between life and death), at the end a sort of light void readies
in the second nocturne. What else to do but listen to what happens? Here
is the beginning, which to my mind is one of the most beautiful passages
of our language, and which captures the brilliance of unhappiness:
From where she lies she sees Venus rise. On. From where she lies
when the skies are clear she sees Venus rise followed by the sun. Then
she rails at the source of all life. On. At evening when the skies are
clear she savours its stars revenge. At the other window. Rigid upright
on her old chair she watches for the radiant one. Her old deal spindle-
backed kitchen chair. It emerges from out of the last rays and sinking
ever brighter is engulfed in its turn. On. She sits on erect and rigid
in the deepening gloom. Such helplessness to move she cannot help.
Heading on foot for a particular point often she freezes on the way.
Unable till long after to move on not knowing wither or for what
purpose. Down on her knees especially she nds it hard not to remain
so forever. Hand resting on hand on some convenient support. Such
as the foot of her bed. And on them her head. There then she sits
as though turned to stone fact to the night. Save for the white of her
hair and faintly bluish white of face and hands all is black. For an eye
CONDITIONS
284
having no need of light to see. All this in the present as had she the
misfortune to be still of this world.
And now to the end, where the instant of happiness is reached in the
very brief, laborious time of the visitation of the void:
Decision no sooner reached or rather long after than what is the
wrong word? For the last time at last for to end yet again what
the wrong word? Than revoked. No but slowly dispelled a little very
little like the last wisps of day when the curtain closes. Of itself by
slow millimetres or drawn by a phantom hand. Farewell to farewell.
Then in that perfect dark foreknell darling sound pip for end begun.
First last moment. Grant only enough remain to devour all. Moment
by glutton moment. Sky earth the whole kit and boodle. Not another
crumb of carrion left. Lick chops and basta. No. One moment more.
One last. Grace to breathe that void. Know happiness.
This is also what I should like to call the writing of the generic: present-
ing in art the passage from the misfortune of life and of the visible to the
happiness of a veridical incitement of the void. It requires the immeasur-
able power of the encounter; it requires the wager of a nomination;
it requires the combinations of wandering and xity, of the imperative
and the tale. It requires the framing of all this in the division of the night,
and, then, under rare conditions, we can again say with Beckett: Stony
ground but not entirely.
285
Notes
Preface
1
What is philosophy? in collaboration with Flix Guattari, 1991 (abridged
title: WP. References to the French editions of the works Francois
Wahl cites are given in square brackets).
2
Being and Event, 1998 (abridged title: BE); Manifesto for Philosophy, 1989
(abridged title: M).
3
WP, p. 5 [10].
4
WP, p. 33, 21 [36, 26].
5
WP, p. 23 [28].
6
WP, p. 36 [39].
7
WP, p. 40 [43].
8
BE, p. 13 [32].
9
BE, p. 59 [72].
10
BE, p. 155 [174].
11
BE, p. 11.
12
BE, p. 3 [9].
13
BE, p. 133 [152]. Translation modied. On the concept of the ordinal,
cf. also Number and numbers, II, 7 and 8.
14
WP, p. 49 and 60 [50 and 59].
15
BE, p. 113 [130].
16
BE, p. 116 [116].
17
M, p. 37 [18].
18
M, p. 38 [19].
19
BE, p. 288 [319].
20
BE, p. 175 and 176 [196 and 197].
NOTES
286
21
BE, p. 179 [200].
22
BE, p. 232 [257].
23
For a demonstration of the constant excess of subsets (inclusion of
parts) over elements (belonging), or of the theorem of the point of
excess, cf. Meditations 7, 8 and 26.
24
BE, p. 85 [99].
25
BE, p. 190 [212].
26
BE, p. 179 [200].
27
WP, p. 118 [111].
28
WP, p. 118 [112].
29
WP, p. 126 [120].
30
WP, p. 144 and 140 [137 and 133].
31
BE, Meditations 11 and 12.
32
BE, p. 210 [232].
33
BE, p. 209 [231].
34
BE, p. 210 [232].
35
BE, p. 210 [232].
36
BE, p. 210 [232].
37
WP, p. 152 [144].
38
By focusing on this encounter between two denitions of philosophy
that agree on a series of crucial statements, but that differ radically on
the meaning to give to them, and even on the framework in which
they are to be grounded, I do not mean to grant particular attention to
the brief discussion Deleuze held of Badious work. There certainly
seems to be a misunderstanding involved in it: Deleuzes reconstruc-
tion of Badiou makes it impossible to recognize him. This sort of blind
spot, unusual with Deleuze, and that explains his awkwardness, obvi-
ously does not in the least prevent there from being arguments in
Deleuzes books that are of crucial interest to the debate with Badiou.
39
BE, p. 182 [203].
40
BE, p. 206 [228].
41
BE, p. 206 [229]. Cf. also M, p. 82 and 89 [63 and 70].
42
M, p. 104 [86].
43
M, p. 81 [61].
44
M, p. 106 [89].
45
M, p. 107 [90].
46
M, p. 80 [60].
47
BE, p. 341 [376].
NOTES
287
48
It is P.J. Cohens construction in which Badiou sees the completion of
set theory, insofar as it must renounce the task of systematically
deploying the entire body of multiples (p. 15 [22]) and, for the
philosopher, a resolution of the problem of indiscernibles. If, earlier,
I allowed myself to paint broad brush strokes, this time I will have to
get across a Maginot line in a tank.
49
BE, p. 370 [406].
50
BE, p. 376 [413].
51
BE, p. 387 [425].
52
BE, p. 6 [12].
53
BE, p. 318 [353].
54
Cf. The entire Meditation 30, Leibniz.
55
See Badious review of Deleuzes The Fold, in his Annuaire philosophique
19881989, p. 166.
56
WP, p. 20 [25].
57
WP, p. 153; cf. also p. 122 [pp. 14445; cf. also p. 116].
58
WP, pp. 128129 [122].
59
Annuaire, p. 167.
60
BE, p. 392 [430].
61
BE, p. 391 [429].
62
BE, p. 399 [438].
63
The formulation is Badious, see the Annuaire.
64
WP, p. 211 [199].
65
BE, p. 417 [457].
66
BE, p. 401 [440]. The concept of forcing is borrowed from the second
version of the construction from Cohen; it permits the mathematician
to connect the indiscernible and the undecidable in demonstrating the
errancy of the quantitative excess; and the philosopher to found the
ontological possibility of the subject.
67
BE, p. 416 [455].
68
BE, pp. 408409 [446447].
69
BE, p. 423 [463].
70
BE, pp. 419420 [459].
71
BE, p. 410 [449].
72
BE, p. 410 [449].
73
BE, p. 430 [470].
74
BE, p. 429 [469].
75
Diffrence et Rptition, p. 286 sq.
NOTES
288
76
Cf. Manifesto, Chapter 6.
77
M, p. 103 [85].
78
Cf. Le Nombre et les nombres, Introduction [abridged title: Nn].
79
Cf. Nn, I, the chapters devoted to Dedekind and Cantor; and II,
Chapter IX.
80
This, as ought to be known, is the title of a book published in 1985,
Can Politics be Thought?, in which almost all of Badious instruments for
thinking this eld were already present, apart from their articulation
within an ontology of the multiple.
81
Badiou has further occasion to reprise this argument with Lacan in the
essay on Philosophy and Psychoanalysis.
82
This expression is Badious in a commentary on Lacan.
83
Cf. In Le Nombre et les nombres, I, what Badiou raises as being a pre-
orientation and stumbling block, particularly in Frege and Dedekind.
84
On the operators of philosophy even the Manifesto (pp. 3536 [1718])
remains elliptical: philosophy seeks to gather together all the addi-
tional names, it congures a place for truths, it congures the
generic procedures, in a reception, a shelter, edied with regard to
their disparate simultaneity.
85
M, p. 16 [36].
86
BE, p. 523 [549].
87
BE, p. 8 [14].
88
Encore: The Seminar of Jacques Lacan. Book 20. On Feminine Sexuality;
the limits of love and knowledge, 19721973. Edited by Jacques-Alain
Miller. Translated with Notes by Bruce Fink. New York and London:
W.W. Norton & Company, 1998, p. 103.
89
In the lines to follow, I base myself on my correspondence with Alain
Badiou during the summer of 1991, naturally with his consent.
90
BE, pp. 428429 [468469].
91
Translators note: I here follow Bruce Fink (cf. crits: The First Complete
Edition in English, p. 783) who translates Lacans use of the French
verb scander with the neologism to scand. The French verb scander,
which this renders, is the verb form of scansion (the metrical scanning
of verse; the division of verse into metrical feet; an example of this),
and is usually translated as to scan. But it important here to distin-
guish the more common contemporary uses of this verb (to look over
rapidly, to run through a list quickly, to cause an object or image to be
NOTES
289
systematically traversed by a beam or detector, etc.), from Lacans idea
here of cutting, punctuating or interrupting something.
92
crits, The First Complete Edition in English. Trans. Bruce Fink, in collabo-
ration with Hlose Fink and Russell Grigg. New York and London:
W.W Norton & Company, 2002, p. 307 [367] (On a Purpose).
93
LEnvers de la psychanalyse, p. 58.
94
Ibid., p. 69.
95
Ibid., pp. 7577.
96
Here we encounter the question Claude Imbert raises in her Phnome-
nologies et Langues Formulaires, namely that of an inaugural, insurmount-
able disjunction between formal and categorial logic, of a disjunction
between two logics supported by two different syntaxes that are, respec-
tively, and exclusively, that of mathematics and that of experience. It is
tempting to say that one corresponds to the signifying chain and the
other to the a, as object and cause and so to what Badiou refers to as
Lacans linear doctrine. In using both logics haphazardly let the
reader consult Logique du fantasme and Encore Lacan seems for once
not to have noticed what resided in there of the impossible. Badiou
shelters himself further from objection, insofar as his discourse limits
itself to considering what can be thought which he posits is only math-
ematical of existence.
CHAPTER ONE
This text has composite origins, which I have re-worked here to make it
almost new. It initially developed from a talk given in Italy in the spring
of 1990 for a colloquium organized by the philosophy department of the
University of Pavia. The title then was The End of the End. I revised that
version for a paper I was to give at a conference in Spain, to which I had
been invited by the Catalan Association Acta, located in Barcelona. But
taking into account the nature of the audience, I opted at the last moment
not to deliver this paper and gave something completely different instead.
Lastly, I reworked it several more times during the rst semester of my
19901991 Seminar at the Collge international de philosophie (Paris).
1
Translators note: Badiou is referring of course to the interview in Der
Speigel.
NOTES
290
2
I devoted a good part of my seminar of the year 19891990 to examining
this in Platos works, and singularly in the Republic and the Laws. One
day the question of non-academic, or active, uses of Plato must be
deployed in detail. Because it is still true that every philosophical
decision is a decision on, or on the basis of, Plato something that
indicates the temporal arch of philosophy that makes us contempora-
ries of the Greeks.
3
In Being and Event, trans. Oliver Feltham (London: Continuum Press,
2006 [ltre et lvnement, Paris: Seuil, 1998]) the void is conceived as
a suture of the situation to its being qua being, or as the joining of the
multiple to its own inconsistency. I also claim that the void is called
the proper name of being. The matheme of this naming is the theory
(or the deducible properties) of the empty set as it is given in the
existential consignment (envoi) of set theory. If need be, the reader
might want to consult meditations 4 and 6 of Being and Event to com-
plete the claricatory remarks given in the preface by Francois Wahl.
4
These formal borrowings from science and art, which only concern
philosophical construction, that is, the ctional structure of philoso-
phy, should not be confounded with the status of art and science as
conditions of philosophy. Because, in a second sense, art and science are
not reservoirs of forms, but sites of thinking. And what they initiate is
not a construction bound in the resources of ction; it is the philoso-
phical act as an act of second thought.
5
On the modalities of the subtractive, the reader can consult the essays
in this book entitled Denition of Philosophy and On Subtraction.
6
That Nietzsche is referred to as a sophist here might give cause for
surprise. Nevertheless, it is fair to say that in his work the critique of
philosophy and of Truth, the theory of the sign, the genealogical argu-
mentation, the function of etymology, the recourse to life and power,
the rhetoric of parables and metaphors, the fury to persuade, the con-
ceptual psychology, the polemical exposition, the fragmentary that
all this simultaneously paves the way for the suture of philosophy to
the poem and for a radical confusion between philosophy and sophi-
stry. The greatness of Nietzsches endeavour makes him what one
might call the Prince (seeing principle in Prince) of modern sophistry.
Seeing things in this way sheds a completely different light on the
key question of the relationship between Nietzsche and Heidegger.
Heidegger wanted to maintain a suture to the poem and re-delimit
NOTES
291
philosophy from sophistry. It is in this paradoxical element, in which
he reworked sophistic operations in a philosophizing way, that Heideg-
ger came to situate Nietzsche at the terminal edge of metaphysics,
which is in my view an untenable but symptomatic argument. In this
collection I had intended to include an essay on Nietzsche entitled pre-
cisely The Mad Prince, dealing with the limit of the furious Nietzschean
trajectory between spring 1988 and January 1889. In this essay, the
thesis I put forward is that Nietzsche was the supreme sophist but this
essay remains unnished, since it has not yet been submitted to the
test, which is always crucial for me, of its public or oral exposition.
7
On this point, the reader might want to consult the essay in this book
entitled Philosophy and Politics.
CHAPTER TWO
In this text I develop the denition of philosophy given in the preceding
text. The text was written for, and distributed to, the attendees of my
seminar of Spring 1991.
1
For more on the modalities of the subtractive, the reader can consult
the gamma schema, which is reproduced in the essay entitled On
Subtraction.
CHAPTER THREE
With some minor touch-ups, this text is the same given as a paper at a
colloquium in 1989, through which the Collge international de philosophie
later emerged. Today, due to constant reforms and the the aporias of
what we call Europe, the question of institutions has come to impassion
a good many philosophers. I would not say it impassions me but, since
the injunction exists, I shall uphold it and propose a concept of it.
1
Translators note: PTT is the abbreviation of Poster, Tlphone et
Tlcommunications the state service coordinating delivery and mainte-
nance of these services.
2
Translators note: maison de passe is literally a house of passage, a
house to which prostitutes can take clients. I left it in the French
because of the other, more spiritual connotations a house of passage
has in English.
NOTES
292
CHAPTER FOUR
This texts rst kernel was a written contribution, requested by Jacques
Poulain, for a colloquium on Heidegger organized in 1989 by the Collge
international de philosophy. Some further elements came from a paper
delivered, at the invitation of Christian Descamps, in a seminar of philo-
sophy devoted to Philosophy and Literature at Beaubourg in 1990. Its
nal reorganization was the result of a lecture I gave, again in 1990, as
part of a philosophy seminar in Lyon under the responsibility of Lucien
Pitti. I have somewhat revised it for this publication.
1
I rst proposed the category of an age of poets in Manifesto for Philoso-
phy (trans. Norman Madarasz, Albany: SUNY Press, 1999/1989). Ive
since had occasion to develop it in the framework of Jacques Rancires
seminar at the Collge international de philosophie, a seminar entitled The
politics of poets. This text was published in spring 1992 under the title
LAge des potes along with all the other contributions to this seminar
(La Politique des potes, Albin Michel).
2
Cf. my essay entitled Mallarms method in this volume.
3
This point obviously recalls the brilliant analyses of conceptual perso-
nae proposed by Deleuze and Guattari in their What is Philosophy?,
which was published after the present essay. My distance to this analy-
sis should all the same be noted. For me, philosophical theatricality
designates that the essence of philosophy (the seizing in Truth) is an
act. For Deleuze and Guattari, everything is as always related to move-
ment and description: the conceptual persona is the nomad of the
plane of immanence.
CHAPTER FIVE
The third section of this essay, which focuses on the speculative func-
tion of purity in Mallarms poems, was originally a fragment of a book
project entitled La Dliaison that I ultimately decided not to publish. The
reason for abandoning the project was that I was convinced by Francois
Wahl that the books full development presupposed more wide-ranging
investigations, in particular into the category theory of mathematics.
I am currently pursuing this work and will one day integrate it into a
book that I regard as the second volume of Being and Event, a work that
NOTES
293
will have to the rst volume the same relation, relatively speaking, that
the Phenomenology of Spirit has to The Science of Logic.
In 1989, I turned this fragment into a paper entitled Mallarm: Thinker
and/or Poet, which was given at Grenada University in Spain at the
invitation of the French Department.
In the present collection, I wanted to give a larger glimpse of my studies
on Mallarm, because for twenty years now I have taken Mallarm to be
emblematic of the relationship between philosophy and poetry. And
I was determined to give this glimpse by engaging in the materiality of
singular poems, and not by means of some over-arching hermeneutical
view. It also seemed to me somewhat one-sided to do this only using the
poem entitled Prose, which, being an exemplary case of the operator of
isolation, is not such a good example of the prodigious operators that
Mallarm invented.
In the end I resolved to provide a new version, which sometimes
bears little change, of my analysis of his poems in Thorie du Sujet (Paris:
Le Seuil, 1982). Ten years have gone by since the publication of this
transitional book, which is at once too complex and too open to attack.
The concepts developed in Being and Event have enabled me to clarify
what was awkwardly clothed in the hope of regenerating dialectical
thinking. The resultant discrepancy has reorganized my reading of the
poems, although the basis on which they were deciphered remains
the same.
Let this be an occasion for me to say once again all that I owe to
Gardner Davies, who, alas, has since passed away, but without receiving
the praise that his work which has become that memorable absent of
which his books are, in Mallarms sense, the real tomb has deserved.
1
Translators note: Badiou cites many poems throughout the course of
this essay, so rather than include the original French poems in the body
of the text, which would have made for a rather disruptive reading
experience, I have included them in the endnotes for interested rea-
ders. All translations are taken from Stphane Mallarm: Collected Poems
and Other Verse (trans. by E.H. and A.M. Blackmore, Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2006). In addition, Badiou often quotes, without refe-
rencing, from various texts of Divagations. Translations of these come
from Barbara Johnson (Stphane Mallarm: Divagations, Cambridge,
MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2007).
NOTES
294
A la nue accablante tu
Basse de basalte et de laves
A mme les chos esclaves
Par une trompe sans vertu
Quel spulcral naufrage
(tu Le sais, cume, mais y baves)
Suprme une entre les paves
Abolit le mt dvtu
Ou cela que furibond faute
De quelque perdition haute
Tout labme vain ploy
Dans le si blanc cheveu qui trane
Avarement aura noy
La anc enfant dune sirne
2
Translators note: In French this clarication is obviously important as
tu can also mean you.
3
The theory of evental naming is established in Meditation 13 of Being
and Event. The term employed is intervention, a term that refers back
to what I called, in a previous book entitled Can Politics Be Thought?
(Paris: Le Seuil, 1985), the interpretation-cut, a term that still remains
slightly caught up in a hermeneutical orientation. It was Jean-Francois
Lyotard who brought to my attention the fact that it actually involves
only one act, that is, an act of naming.
4
There are further developments concerning the unnameable in
the essays On Subtraction and Truth: Forcing and the Unnameable.
See also the precious critical remarks given by Francois Wahl in the
preface.
5
Ses purs ongles trs hauts ddiant leur onyx,
LAngoisse ce minuit, soutient, lampadophore
Maint rve vespral brl par le Phnix
Que ne recueille pas de cinraire amphore
Sur les crdences, au salon vide: nul ptyx,
Aboli bibelot dinanit sonore,
(Car le Matre est all puiser des pleurs au Styx
Avec ce seul objet dont le Nant shonore).
NOTES
295
Mais proche la croise au nord vacante, un or
Agonise selon peut-tre le dcor
Des licornes ruant du feu contre une nixe,
Elle, dfunte nue en le miroir, encor
Que, dans loubli ferm par le cadre, se xe
De scintillations sitt le septuor.
6
Hyperbole! de ma mmoire
Triomphalement ne sais-tu
Te lever, aujourdhui grimoire
Dans un livre de fer vtu:
Car jinstalle, par la science
Lhymne des curs spirituels
En luvre de ma patience
Atlas, herbiers et rituels.
Nous promenions notre visage
(Nous fmes deux, je le maintiens)
Sur maints charmes de paysage,
sur, y comparant les tiens.
Lre dautorit se trouble
Lorsque, sans nul motif, on dit
De ce midi que notre double
Inconscience approfondit
Que, sol des cent iris, son site,
Ils savent sil a bien t
Ne porte pas de nom que cite
Lor de la trompette dt.
Oui, dans une le que lair charge
De vue et non de visions
Toute eur stalait plus large
Sans que nous en devisions.
Telles, immenses, que chacune
Ordinairement se para
NOTES
296
Dun lucide contour, lacune
Qui des jardins la spara.
Gloire du long dsir, Ides
Tout en moi sxaltait de voir
La famille des irides
Surgir ce nouveau devoir,
Mais cette sur sense et tendre
Ne porta son regard plus loin
Que sourire et, comme lentendre
Joccupe mon antique soin.
Oh! sache lEsprit de litige,
A cette heure o nous nous taisons,
Que de lie multiples la tige
Grandissait trop pour nos raisons
Et non comme pleure la rive,
Quand son jeu monotone ment
A vouloir que lampleur arrive
Parmi mon jeune tonnement
Dour tout le ciel et la carte
Sans n attests sur mes pas,
Par le ot mme qui scarte,
Que ce pays nexista pas.
Lenfant abdique son extase
Et docte dj par chemins
Elle t le mot: Anastase!
N pour dternits parchemins,
Avant quun spulcre ne rie
Sous aucun climat, son aeul,
De porter ce nom: Pulchrie!
Cach par le trop grand glaeul.
7
This is the title of Gardner Davies last collection Mallarm ou la couche
sufsante dintelligibilit (Paris: Jos Corti, 1988). Prior to its publica-
tion, Gardner Davies wrote to me that it was an attempt to give a
NOTES
297
faithful explanation of the poem called Prose. This is entirely correct,
when it is understood that, concerning Mallarm, such loyalty is a feat
that most commentators are barely ever capable of.
8
Here it would be necessary to engage (but I had already written this
essay) in a vast and complex discussion with the detailed reading of
Mallarm given by Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe in his Musica Ficta (Chris-
tian Bourgois, 1991). Lacoue-Labarthes central idea is that Mallarm
fails in the last analysis, in his rivalry with the Wagnerian project, to
subtract himself from the prescription of an ontological impress,
whereby art, grand art, remains in thrall to its metaphysical consign-
ment. All Mallarm would have succeeded in achieving is a radical
purication of onto-typology, which reduces it to the pure impress of
the there is of language as such.
My differend with Lacoue-Labarthe must be stated on two heteroge-
neous levels:
1. I fully agree that the historical assemblage that turns on the theme
of great art is inherently criticizable. For, to the extent that it does
touch a real, this real is not of the poem, but alone that of a certain phi-
losophical seizing of (German? Romantic?) art. Lacoue-Labarthe con-
stantly (for poetry, and incidentally also for politics) folds the effectiveness
of the (poetic or political) truth-procedure, as a locus of autonomous
thinking, back onto the singular operators of philosophical seizing of
these procedures. Yet the categorical procedures by which a poem
thought is identied for itself are not the same as those by which a philo-
sophicalthought seizes them.
In preparing Mallarm for this folding back, instead of entering into
the thrust of the poems, Lacoue-Labarthe apprehends his prose as that
which yields the very essence of poetry in the form of a programme for thought.
Or again, Lacoue-Labarthe proceeds as if the prose renderings yielded
the thoughtprogramme of poems.
I believe neither that such is the relation between Mallarms prose
and his poems, nor, more generally, that the essence of real thinking
can be passed on in the form of a programme of thought.
What is thought in Mallarms poetry is not, in general, what his
prose says ought to be thought in it. The reason being that the relation
between thinking and the thought of thought cannot be exhausted
by a programmatic announcement.
NOTES
298
In fact (and this is my method), the relation must be inverted. It is the
poems that shed light on the prose, and the effectiveness of the
thoughtpoem of the event and of the undecidable retroactively autho-
rizes the multi-faceted formulation of a programme. It is from thought
to the thinking of thought that we go, and not the other way round.
And, in this movement, there is a perceptible change of terrain. I shall
state it bluntly: every programme of thought comes after thinking, and
works to alter its eld of exercise.
At bottom, the ultimate gure issuing from Heideggers work, and
thus from historicism, in view of which history no longer promises us
anything, consists in re-programming thought, thus making the thin-
king of thought the destinal essence of thought.
2. Concerning the pure, purication: I do not think that the stakes
here involve releasing the onto-typology of great art from its mythical
charge, all the while conserving its schema (in the sense that Mallarm
would be a Wagner devoid of an explicit mythology). I posit instead
that the stakes of the pure are to understand how in the pure chance
of a vanished event, of a non-original facticity the regulated effect of
a singular truth can be suspended. The issue is, then, to think outside
of relations (hors lien), in the shelter opened up by the cut of a
chance.
This discussion ought to be much tighter and be continued. It shall.
CHAPTER SIX
1
Translators note: All translations of Rimbauds poems are taken from
Rimbaud Complete Works, Selected Letters: A Bilingual Edition. Translated
with an introduction and notes by Wallace Fowlie. Updated, revised
and with a foreword by Seth Whidden (Chicago and London: The
University of Chicago Press, 2005).
I have also included the original French of each poem Badiou quotes
for interested readers: Leau Claire; comme le sel des larmes denfance,/
lassaut au soleil des blancheurs des corps de femmes;/ la soie, en foule et de lys
pur, des oriammes/ sous les murs dont quelque pucelle eut la dfense;/ lbat
des anges.
2
non . . . le courant dor en marche/ meut ses bras, noirs, et lourds, et frais sur-
tout, dherbe. Elle/ sombre, ayant le Ciel bleu pour le ciel-de-lit, appelle/ pour
rideaux lombre de la colline et de larche.
NOTES
299
3
Lhaleine/ des peupliers den haut est pour la seule brise./ Puis, cest la nappe,
sans reets, sans source, grise:/ un vieux, dragueur, dans sa barque immobile,
peine.
4
Plus pure quun louis, jaune et chaude paupire/ le souci deau ta foi
conjugale, lEpouse ! / au midi prompt, de son terne miroir, jalouse/ au
ciel gris de chaleur la Sphre rose et chre.
5
Il nous a connus tous et nous a tous aims. Sachons, cette nuit dhiver,/ de cap
en cap, du ple tumultueux au chteau, de la foule la plage, de/ regards en
regards, forces et sentiments las, le hler et le voir, et le/ renvoyer, et sous les
mares et au haut des dserts de neige, suivre ses/ vues, ses soufes, son corps,
son sjour.
6
Mais, saints du ciel, en haut du chne,/ Mt perdu dans le soir charm,/ Laissez
les fauvettes de mai/ Pour ceux quau fond du bois enchan,/ Dans lherbe
do lon ne peut fuir,/ La dfaite sans avenir.
7
Plutt, se garder de la justice. La vie dure, labrutissement simple,- /sou-
lever, le poing dessech, le couvercle du cerceuil, sasseoir,/ stouffer. Ainsi
point de vieillesse, ni de dangers. La terreur nest pas/ francaise.
8
mes petites amoureuses/ Que je vous has!/ Plaquez de fouffes douloureuses/
Vos ttons laids.
9
Mais, Femme, monceau dentrailles, piti douce,/ Tu nes jamais la sur de
charit, jamais.
10
Nous sommes Ouvriers, Sire! Ouvriers! Nous sommes/ Pour les grands temps
nouveaux o lon voudra savoir,/ O lHomme forgera du matin jusqu
au soir,/ Chasseur des grands effets, chasseur des grandes causes,/ O, lente-
ment vainqueur, il domptera les choses/ Et montera sur Tout, comme sur un
cheval.
11
Il naimait pas Dieu; mais les hommes, quau soir fauve,/ Noirs, en blouse,
il voyait rentrer dans le faubourg/ O les crieurs, en trois roulements de
tambour,/ Font autour des dits rire et gronder les foules.
12
A quatre heures du matin, lt,/ Le sommeil damour dure encore./ Sous les
bosquets laube vapore/ Lodeur de soir ft.
13
Mais l-bas dans limmense chantier/ Vers le soleil des Hesprides,/ En bras de
chemise, les charpentiers/ Dj sagitent.
14
Ah! Pour ces Ouvriers charmants/ Sujets dun roi de Babylone,/ Vnus! laisse
un peu les Amants,/ Dont lme est en couronne.
15
This time a debate should be had with the beautiful interpretation Jean-
Luc Nancy proposes of the end of A Season in Hell in his essay Possder la
vrit dans une me et un corps (in Une pense nie, Galile, 1990).
NOTES
300
The basic idea in it is that to possess truth in one body and soul desig-
nates that truth is the thing itself, or and I quote Nancy this real
insofar as it cannot be appropriated, not even through possession. We
are to understand that the poem must deposit us on that edge (bord)
at which its in-apparent underside (envers) would release us from
speaking. Words end as they started, and as they will start: by writing
beyond words, in the thing, the truth, on the other side of their
writing. And again: This truth will, by bringing me the last words,
words which are always the last, liberate me from speaking. The to
possess, clearly, names the impropriety of words such as they ex-write
(ex-crive) the thing itself.
Certainly Nancy conrms the epiphanic desire that one can make
out on the other side of interruption. But his aim is too general. Giving
the best deal to words (and to words without words, to what he terms
the adieu of words to words), he misses the gures that alone weave
Rimbauds singularity. Words are no more than an avatar (one of his
follies). Equally decisive, and capable of justifying a re-thinking of the
operations of poetry, are the workers, women, science, Christ.
Here, too, my misgiving is that the poem has been reduced to a
general programme, and the second reduction of this rst reduction is
to a destinal and enveloping programme of thought, of which Rim-
baud is in the end a (proper) name, and of which philosophy (or the
impossible philosophy) is the holder.
At bottom, the disagreement bears on this: for Lacoue-Labarthe and
Nancy there is only one thinking. I maintain, by contrast, the multiplicity
and heterogeneity of sites of thinking. And I would readily suspect
that it is for having excluded science (mathematics) from thinking that
they make this identication, an identication in which politics is an
ontology, poetry is a prose of thought and philosophy a desire for
thinking. It is as though (has it always been so? Since Plato?) it turns
out to be possible to think the multiplicity of thought only under the
condition of the matheme.
16
Elle est retrouve./ Quoi? . . . Lternit./ Cest la mer alle/ Avec le soleil.
17
Si je dsire une eau dEurope, cest la ache/ Noire et froide o vers un
crpuscule embaum/ Un enfant accroupi plein de tristesse, lche/Un bateau
frle comme un papillon de mai.
18
Jaime autant, mieux mme,/ Pourrir dans ltang,/ Sous laffreuse crme,/
Prs des bois ottants.
NOTES
301
19
Patrice Loraux devoted his paper in the colloquium from which this
essay is drawn to the signications of the exclamatory in Rimbaud.
20
Quand tu nauras plus mes bras sous ton cou, ni mon cur pour ty/ reposer,
ni cette bouche sur tes yeux. Parce quil faudra que je men/ aille trs loin, un
jour. Puis il faut que jen aide dautres: cest mon/ devoir. Quoique ce ne soit
gure ragotant . . . , chre me . . .
21
Ah! La poudre des saules quune aile secoue! / Les roses des roseaux ds long-
temps dvores ! / Mon canot, toujours xe; et sa chane tire/ Au fond de cet il
deau sans bords, quelle boue?
22
Jouet de cet oeil deau morne, je ny puis prendre,/ ! canot immobile! Oh!
bras trop courts! ni lune / ni lautre eur: ni la jaune qui mimportune,/ l;
ni la bleue, amie leau couleur de cendre.
23
Jacques Rancire developed this point in his paper at the colloquium.
24
Commercant! colon! Mdium!/ Ta rime soufra, rose ou blanche,/ Comme un
rayon de sodium,/ Comme un caoutchouc qui spanche.
25
Oh! la science! [. . .] Et les divertissements des princes et les jeux quils/ interdi-
saient! Gographie, cosmographie, mcanique, chimie! . . . La / science, la
nouvelle noblesse! Le progrs. Le monde marche!/ Pourquoi ne tournerait-il
pas? Cest la vision des nombres.
26
Mon esprit, prends garde. Pas de partis de saluts violents. Exerce-toi!/ Ah! la
science ne va pas assez vite pour nous!
27
Jai tant fait patience / Qu jamais joublie;/ Craintes et souffrances/ Aux
cieux sont parties.
28
Quon patiente et quon sennuie/ Cest trop simple. Fi de mes peines./ Je veux
que lt dramatique/ Me lie son char de fortune.
CHAPTER SEVEN
This text is the outcome of a paper given at a colloquium jointly organi-
zed by the Collge international de philosophie and the University of Paris
VIII in 1989. It has also been published in a volume entitled Lieux and
Transformations de la philosophie, which gathers the proceedings of the
colloquium (Presses universitaires de Vincennes, 1991).
1
The current state of the relation between philosophy and mathematics
is dominated by three tendencies:
The logical and grammatical analysis of statements, for which
the ultimate stake of philosophy involves discriminating between
NOTES
302
meaningful and meaningless statements. Mathematics, or rather
formal logic, serves as its paradigm (as the example of a well-
formed language).
The epistemological study of concepts, most often grasped in terms
of their history, with a pre-eminent role granted to original math-
ematical texts. Philosophy here is a sort of latent guide for a gene-
alogy of the sciences.
Commentaries of current results, using analogical generalizations
whose categories are borrowed from classical philosophemes.
In neither of these three cases is philosophy as such put under the con-
ditions of mathematical eventality.
I see four French philosophers as having set themselves apart from these
tendencies: Jean Cavaills, Albert Lautmann, Jean-Toussaint Desanti and
myself. Although operating from very different viewpoints, and on dis-
continuous philosophical ground, these four authors have pursued intel-
lectual endeavours that treat mathematics neither as a model language
nor as an (historical and epistemological) object, nor as a matrix for struc-
tural generalizations, but as a singular site of thinking, the procedures and
the events of which must be re-traced within the philosophical act.
2
Plato, Republic, Book VI, 511, cd. From the translation by the author.
3
Hegels Science of Logic, trans. A.V. Miller (Alantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities
Press, 1989), Vol. 1, Book 1, Section 2, Chapter 2, (c), pp. 2413.
4
Ibid., p. 240.
5
Ibid., p. 242. Translation modied.
CHAPTER EIGHT
This paper was presented in 1991, at the invitation of the board of
directors of the cole de la Cause freudienne, in the lecture hall of that
institution. It was published in the journal Actes whose subtitle is Revue
de lcole de la Cause freudienne at the end of 1991. It has also appeared in
the Italian translation in the journal Agalma, published in Rome.
CHAPTER NINE
This essay was originally delivered in Montpellier in autumn 1991 at
the invitation of the Department of Psychonalysis of the Paul-Valry
University, chaired by Henri Rey-Flaud.
NOTES
303
CHAPTER TEN
This text has complex origins and is a reorganization of materials that
initially had completely distinct aims.
The core of the text comes from a paper given in Strasbourg at the start
of 1991, in the framework of a seminar organized by Jean-Jacques Fort
and Georges Leyenberger. This essay was published along with the other
interventions of the seminar in a book entitled Politique et Modernit
(Paris: Osiris, 1992).
However, wanting to give a more comprehensive argument, I included
some short developments resulting from my contribution to the collo-
quium on the oeuvre of Louis Althusser, which, on Sylvain Lazarus
initiative, was organized at the University of Paris VIII in spring 1991.
Then, together with this complex, I articulated some ideas on right
whose own origins are various. In effect, they developed out of a text
requested by Jean-Christophe Bailly and Jean-Luc Nancy for the rst
issue of a journal Alea, which ultimately remained unpublished. How-
ever, displaced and re-grounded, this text found its way into a small
essay called Dun dsastre obscur, published in autumn 1991 in a collection
edited by Denis Guenoun at ditions de lAube. It was translated into
English as Of an Obscure Disaster trans. by Barbara P. Fulks, Lacanian
Ink, no. 22, 2004.
That said, the substantial part of this text is unpublished, and it seems
to me in its ensemble to provide coherent perspectives on what mattered
to me here: to think the link between philosophy and politics in the
act of a desuturing, and in respecting the conviction that, from where
I stand, politics as such is a site of thought independent of philosophy.
1
Cf. La Fiction du politique (Paris: Christian Bourgois, 1990). Translated in
English as Heidegger, Art, and Politics: The Fiction of the Political, trans.
Chris Turner (Oxford: Blackwell, 1990).
2
On this point the reader should consult the interpretation of the
encounter between Celan and Heidegger proposed by Lacoue-Labarthe
in Poetry as Experience, trans. Andrea Tarnowski (Stanford: Stanford
University Press 1999/1986). I have sketched a different interpretation
in Manifesto for Philosophy, trans. Norman Madarasz (Albany: SUNY
Press, 1999/1989).
3
Maurice Blanchot, The Unavowable Community, trans. Pierre Joris
(New York: Station Hill Press, 1988/1984).
NOTES
304
4
Giorgio Agamben, The Coming Community, trans. Michael Hardt
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993/1991).
5
Full recognition of this point is far from being commonly accepted. We
owe to Sylvain Lazarus, for the most part, the categorical elaboration
authorizing politics to be considered as a form of immanent thought, or
thought in interiority, without confusing it with political philosophy. It is
thanks to him that we know that there is a singular thought of
Saint-Just, a thinking pertaining to an effective modality of politics, and
that can in no way be identied by its Rousseauist sources. Similarly,
we can think Lenins thought completely other than as a consequence of
Marxism. However little Lazarus doctrine has been disseminated, not to
mention written, to this day, it should be impossible in the long-run to
avoid all consideration of someone who has foregrounded by forging
the categories for this identication politics as the site of a singular
thinking, on the same footing, although absolutely irreducible to them,
as art and science, and intransitive to philosophy. The available writings
of Sylvain Lazarus are: Peut-on penser la politique en intriorit?, Ed. des
Confrences du Perroquet, 1986; La Catgorie de rvolution dans la rvolu-
tion francaise, ibid., 1989; Lnine et le Temps, ibid., 1990; and LAnthropolo-
gie du Nom (Anthropology of the Name) (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1996).
6
The tension, the uncoupling, internal to a procedure of political
thought as to every other generic procedure, between thought and
the thought of thought, is one of the fundamental theses in Sylvain
Lazarus LAnthropologie du Nom (cf. the previous note).
7
The numericity of a generic procedure is the ciphering of its relation
to the disposition of the void (ontological gure), of the One (gure of
the count and of the event), and of the innite (gure of the total situ-
ation and of truth). Each type of generic procedure admits of a particu-
lar numericity. Further on, in the essay entitled What Is Love? the
reader will come across the numericity of the amorous procedure, and
that is: one, two, innity. There can be no question of establishing it
here, but I should like to say that the numericity of the political proce-
dure is: Innity-1 (the situation), Innity-2 (the State), an ordinal
(that xes eventally the excess of Innity-2 over Innity-1) and the
One (that is the number of equality). You will see that politics starts at
the point where love nishes, but also that love begins at the point
where politics nishes.
NOTES
305
8
On the unnameable cf. note 17. Every type of generic procedure
admits a specic unnameable. Thus, the unnameable specic to love is
sexual enjoyment; that of politics is the collective; that of the poem is
language; that of mathematics is consistency.
9
Nevertheless, one will give recognition to philosophy as a power
that provides an indirect service to generic procedures in general
and to politics in particular. In stating the there is of truths, philoso-
phy establishes a thinking that turns peoples minds towards
their existence, and shows the conditions on the basis of which
thought can be contemporary to its time without reneging on eternity.
Philosophy is in no way a politics, but it is a form of propaganda for poli-
tics, inasmuch as it designates its effectiveness as the non-temporal
value of that time.
10
The reader again encounters here the categories of disaster such as
they were formally presented in the rst text of the book. But I have
let the apparent repetition stand, since on this occasion ecstasy (of the
site), sacredness (of the name) and terror (of having-to-be) are consid-
ered in terms of their specic appropriation by a specic truth proce-
dure: politics.
11
Translators note: the PCF is the French Communist Party.
12
The precarious and sequential dimension of politics, that is, its rare-
ness, is a crucial consequence of its only existing as thought, or as a
report of the conguration to its thinking. These are the founding
themes of Lazarus theory. In 1982, in Thorie du Sujet Paris (Editions
du Seuil), I provided the properly philosophical version of this point
in: Every subject is political. That is why there is little of the subject
and little of politics. Today, I should not say that every subject is politi-
cal, which is a maxim of suture. I should rather say: Every subject is
induced through a generic procedure, and therefore depends upon an
event. As a result, the subject is rare.
13
The ontology of the State is presented (under the name of state of the
situation) in meditations 7, 8 and 9 of Being and Event, trans. Oliver
Feltham (New York: Continuum, 2005/1998). The State (in its polit-
ico-historical sense) is analysed as an example of this gure of being.
The central point is that the state of a situation (its re-presentation) is
in excess over the situation (over its presentation). Here excess is a
rigorous concept. See also Francois Wahls preface.
NOTES
306
14
The specicity of Cantors invention, its radicality, which he himself
found fearsome, is not to have mathematized the innite, but to have
pluralized it, and therefore unequalized it. That there are different
innities (and this goes well and truly beyond the dialectical opposi-
tion between the discrete and the continuous) obviously presupposes
that it is possible to make sense of the equality of two innites. This is
indeed what the impetus of pluralization consists in: two innite sets
are equal (i.e., have the same power) if there exists between them a
bi-univocal correspondence. They are unequal if such a correspond-
ence does not exist. It will be seen that it is equality here that, for its
existence, refers to an existence, and inequality to a negation of exist-
ence. Hence also the function of proof by contradiction. Since there
are no positive ways to demonstrate an inexistence. Existence must
rst be posited and then a contradiction deduced from it. This link
between equality, existence and proof by contradiction forms the
matrix underlying all philosophical thinking on emancipation: to
show that a philosophically adverse politics is absurd, one must
rst suppose that it bears equality, and then show that this leads to a
formal contradiction. There is no better way of doing it than to under-
score that equality is not a programme, but an axiom as Jacques
Rancire has done with great talent in The Ignorant Schoolmaster, trans.
with an introduction by Kristin Ross (Stanford: Stanford University
Press, 1991/1987).
15
A debate with Jean-Claude Milner needs to be had on this point.
In his Les Noms indistincts (Le Seuil, 1985), he argues with particular
elegance that politics essentially revolves around the word freedom
in its dimensions of the real (the unauthorized [sauvage] freedom of
revolutions), the imaginary (that captures the links that glue together
a political vision of the world) and the symbolic (formal freedoms).
To be sure, Milner considers it preferable to defend rmly the latter by
contrast to the chance of the rst and the abjection of the second.
However, in his more recent work, Milner seems to have had to revive
the theme of possible correlation between thought and rebellion, by a
means that, in touching on the innite, cannot be subordinated to the
symbolic touch alone. And that implies one needs to go beyond the
homonyms of freedom. Is it under the mark of equality that the maxi-
mum of rebellion is axiomatically (accord) with a maximum of
thought? In his most recent work (Constat, Paris: Verdier, 1992) Milner
NOTES
307
concludes on a self-enclosed pessimism, not allowing any decision to
be made. The debate shall continue.
16
On the generic as the predicate of truth, the reader may consult
Francois Wahls preface, as well as the essay included in this
book entitled On Subtraction. The complete elaboration of the
concept can of course be found in Being and Event, trans. Oliver
Feltham (London: Continuum Press, 2006 [ltre et lvnement ], Paris:
Seuil, 1998).
17
On this point, which is central to Jean-Luc Nancys current mediation,
I would like to mention the magnicent text entitled Le Coeur
des choses [the Heart of Things] in Une Pense Finie, 1990. The proxim-
ity between this and what I call the generic is patent in expressions
such as the things nondescriptness constitutes its most inherent afr-
mation or in the heart of things there is no language. On the other
hand, I cannot concur either with his eventalization of the thing
(the event is the taking-place of the being-there of the heart of things),
which cancels (structuralizes) the chance of the occurrence, or with
the doctrine of sense to which this ontologization of the event inevita-
bly leads (accordingly: once there is some thing, the thing and its
coming are liable to sense.) For me, the event cannot (not without
hermeneutical resorption) be the coming to presence of the thing.
This logic remains a Hegelian logic of the historicity of presence. The
essence of the event is pure disappearing, and the thing, as truth,
happens to innity as non-sense.
18
Lacoue-Labarthe makes the argument that Nazism was a kind of
humanism in The Fiction of the Political.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
This essay is a reworked version of a paper I gave at a colloquium in
1990 called Exercice des savoirs et difference des sexes. The colloquium
took place at the Collge international de philosophie and was organized
by Genevive Fraisse, Monique David-Mnard and Michel Tort. The
paper was at the time called Lamour est-il le lieu dun savoir sexu?.
LHarmattan (1991) published it as part of the conference proceedings.
1
On forcing, the reader can consult Francois Wahls preface to this book
The subtractive and of course Being and Event (nal mediations).
NOTES
308
CHAPTER TWELVE
This text was delivered in 1989 at a conference devoted to the topic of
consent (assentiment) organized by the journal Littoral. It was published
in the journal the following year as part of the conference proceedings.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
This essay was originally given as a paper at a conference in Marseille,
at the invitation of Dr. M. Dugnat. The original title of this essay, which
remains unpublished, was The Position of the Innite in the Split of the
Subject.
1
Translators note: In English in the original.
2
Translators note: In English in the original.
3
For a sketch of the attributes of the humanity function, and its
difference concerning the sexes with the phallic function, the reader
can consult the essay in this book entitled What is Love?
4
Translators note: The original French is from the poem called Toast
funbre: . . . le matre a sur ses pas/ Apais de lden linquite merveille.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
This text is an abridged and slightly reworked version of a paper I gave at
a colloquium organized in 1990 by the Collge international de philosophie
called Lacan with the Philosophers. The rst version was published in
the conference proceedings (Albin Michel, 1991) under the title Lacan
and Plato: Is the matheme an Idea? Ive made some alterations here to
take into account the importance of the theme of antiphilosophy
1
Translators note: hontologie is a neologism formed by the French
words ontologie that is, ontology, and honte, meaning shame or
disgrace.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
This text was delivered in 1989 in the cycle of the Conferences du Perroquet.
It was published as a booklet of these conferences, and is today nowhere
to be found. It should be noted that since the publication of this essay
NOTES
309
Samuel Beckett has died. And that Worstward Ho has been admirably
translated by Edith Fournier with the title Cap au pire (Minuit, 1991).
1
Translators note: A vers de mirliton is an expression referring to a
piece of bad poetry where artistic merit is sacriced for the sake of get-
ting something to rhyme. The expression comes from the practice of
writing short verse on the paper that spiralled round an instrument
known as the mirliton.
2
Translators note: This is my translation of the original French poem,
which Beckett left untranslated. Here is the original French mirlitonnade:
Flux cause / Que toute chose / Tout en tant, / Toute chose, / Donc celle-l,/
Mme celle-l / Tout en tant / Nest pas. / Parlons-en.
3
Translators note: The French term here is noir grise, which I have
literally translated as blackgrey because these terms t in better with
Badious proposal. It should be noted, however, that Beckett himself
translated noir grise as ash grey.
4
Translators note: the adjective ressassante has no English equivalent.
According to the Grand Robert, the verb ressasser originally meant to act
anew, to examine carefully many times over, before it took on its
current sense of to dwell on, to brood on, to go over the same things.
Hence, it now also connotes a sense of the repetition whereby some-
thing becomes ressass or hackneyed. The reference to the insistent,
repetitious examination of questions characteristic of the Beckettian
subject evidently draws on both the older and newer senses.
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311
Being 252, 255 site of 2534
capitalo-parliamentarism 166, 174
christianity, Christ 7980, 82
cogito 2569, 261, 266
communist, communism 150, 1656,
174
community 14851, 153, 165, 172
consistency, inconsistency 37
construction, constructibility 117, 135
Dialectical Materialism 155
difference, sexual difference 179, 183,
196, 212, 223, 227
in Beckett 273, 27981
disaster 15, 17, 127, 1558
disjunction 1835, 187, 189, 1913,
196
encyclopaedia 133
equality 1723
ethics 240, 272
of philosophy 19, 25
Event, eventality, evental site 412,
523, 567, 73, 80, 110, 122, 132,
188, 191, 209, 240, 244, 252,
2659, 278, 280
evil 126
existence 255
delity
in Beckett 278
forcing 126, 1389, 1934
fraternity 173
freedom 173
generic 11718, 124, 125, 186, 250,
252, 254
writing of 250, 2634, 282
good 16
historicism 46, 14, 989
humanity 1845, 1958
identity 265
immanence 1313
inaccessible, inaccessibility
21827
indiscernible 11516, 122,
125
innite 97100, 10612, 192,
21112, 21421, 2237
justice 150, 153, 273
knowledge 133, 1934, 2018, 241,
266
logic 21119
love 1803, 18890, 1938
in Beckett 2745, 279
and desire 1901
as paradox 1857
in Rimbaud 778
Index of Concepts
INDEX OF CONCEPTS
312
man 179, 1938, 212
matheme, mathematics 37, 93112,
2434
multiple, multiplicity 100, 11011,
121, 235, 276
naming 51, 192, 267
Nazism 175
negation 21213, 215, 218
nothingness 58
notion 59, 65
number, numericity 227, 275, 27980
philosophical institution 2632
philosophy 5, 916, 234, 27, 356,
424, 89, 2019, 228, 239, 246
address of 27, 2930
and anti-philosophy 129, 22830,
236, 2456
Althusser on 160
end of 36, 20
historicity of 289, 312
inscription of 2831
relation to its own history 36
relation to mathematics 93112
relation to the poem 3840, 457
transmission of 2830
Platonism 9, 16, 98, 100, 22930
poem 356, 41, 468, 5860, 98, 263
and interruption 689, 714, 778
and prose 251, 263
schemas of rupture 601, 657
politics, political prescription 14953,
1557, 1625, 16970, 1735
historical modalities of 1634
and suture 161
psychoanalysis 133, 140, 2019, 228,
241, 2456
pure choice 53, 1235
purity 5960
real 141, 151, 243
right, state of Right 1668, 17071
romanticism 95100, 10812
set, set-theory 12, 133, 135, 21920
situation 1323
sophistry 611, 1820, 245, 95, 150
state 89, 167
subject, subjectivation 124, 125, 126,
252, 257, 260, 263, 269, 271
four gures of in Beckett
How It Is 272, 278
subtraction 1314, 1278, 2501
four operations of 24, 114, 121
poetic methods of 527
suture, de-suturing 15962, 165
terror 73, 158
truth 8, 1015, 1920, 23, 86, 110,
121, 123, 1256, 12930, 1325,
13740, 1423, 165, 193, 2012,
2689
ethics of 1278
truth procedure 15, 23, 44, 189
politics as 1534
the Two 18892, 227, 252, 2745,
27880
undecidable 523, 735, 812,
868, 11415, 123, 256
unnameable 538, 11920, 122, 126,
1412, 258
veridical 13940
void 46, 2015, 208, 2545, 255, 257,
261
whole, totality
woman 75, 180, 1938, 21218
workers 767
313
Althusser, Louis 15962
Aristotle 37, 1945, 21213
Beckett, Samuel 1278, 249
Closed Place 253
Company 264, 277
Endgame 253, 267
Enough 264, 27681
Film 2578
First Love 255
Happy Days 264
How It Is 2534, 264, 269, 2725,
278
Ill Seen Ill Said 261, 264, 2678,
2812
Krapps Last Tape 276
Lessness 253, 264
Malone Dies 2545, 2634, 275
Mirlitonnade 249
Molloy 254, 2634
Murphy 274
Rough for Theatre, II 251
Texts for Nothing 250, 25962
The Lost Ones 26971
Unnamable 25860, 263
Waiting for Godot 264
Watt 252, 256, 2646
Worstward Ho 255
Blanchot, Maurice 258
Carnap, Rudolf 9, 95
Cassin, Barbara 195
Celan, Paul 41
Cohen, Paul 135, 1389
Davies, Gardner 63
Descartes, Rn 124
Freud, Sigmund 1312
Furkhen, George 120, 142
Galois, variste 116
Gdel, Kurt 11415, 122, 135, 242
Hegel, G. W. F. 4, 95, 1059, 11112,
198
Heidegger, Martin 45, 9, 356,
3940, 46, 130
Kant, Immanuel 204
Lacan, Jacques 12930, 1347, 1413,
182, 2029, 21119, 2216, 22845
Lacoue-Labarthe, Philippe 21, 147, 175
Index of Names
314
Lazarus, Slyvain 1534, 1613
Leibniz, G. W. 125
Lenin, Vladimir Illyich 1434
Lucretius 468
Mallarm, Stphane 41, 49, 113,
1223, 1278, 202
Her pure nails on high (Ses purs ongles
trs haut) 538
Hushed to the crushing cloud
( la nu accablante tu) 503
Prose (for des Esseintes) 617
Nancy, Jean-Luc 147, 175
Narcy, Michel 195
Nietzsche, Friedrich 4, 9, 130
Paris, Jeff 115
Parmenides 367
Plato 910, 16, 19, 37, 42,
1019, 1502, 155, 1578,
23145
and Socrates 101, 1512, 231,
2378, 242
Rancire, Jacques 79, 83, 85
Rimbaud, Arthur 6890
A Good Thought in the Morning (Bonne
pense du matin) 77
A Season in Hell (Une saison
en enfer) 69, 75, 79, 84, 86,
88
Brussels (Bruxelles) 71
Comedy of Thirst (Comdie de la
soif) 69
Feasts of Patience (Ftes de la
patience) 845
Genie (Gnie) 725, 78
Memory (Mmoire) 701, 812
Michel and Christine
(Michel et Christine) 69
My Little Lovers (Mes petites
amoureuses) 76
Sensation (Sensation) 75
Seven-year-old Poets (Les potes
de sept ans) 76, 80
Sisters of Charity (Les soeurs
de charit) 76
The Blacksmith (Le forgeron) 75
The Crows (Les corbeaux) 724
The Drunken Boat (Le bateau ivre) 68,
70, 81
The Spirit (Lesprit) 69
What is said to the poet concerning
owers (Ce quon dit au Pote
propos de eurs) 83
Wittgenstein, Ludwig 67, 956
INDEX OF NAMES