Stuart Elden - The Early Foucault-Polity (2021)
Stuart Elden - The Early Foucault-Polity (2021)
Stuart Elden - The Early Foucault-Polity (2021)
Stuart Elden
polity
Copyright © Stuart Elden 2021
The right of Stuart Elden to be identified as Author of this Work has been asserted in
accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Polity Press
65 Bridge Street
Cambridge CB2 1UR, UK
Polity Press
101 Station Landing
Suite 300
Medford, MA 02155, USA
Cover illustration: Elsa Norström, Journal de la section des jeunes de l’alliance française
d’Upsal 1953–, Uppsala University Special Collections, Carolina Rediviva Library
All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purpose of criticism
and review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system
or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
The publisher has used its best endeavours to ensure that the URLs for external websites
referred to in this book are correct and active at the time of going to press. However, the
publisher has no responsibility for the websites and can make no guarantee that a site will
remain live or that the content is or will remain appropriate.
Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders, but if any have been overlooked
the publisher will be pleased to include any necessary credits in any subsequent reprint or
edition.
Acknowledgements vii
Abbreviations and Archival References x
Introduction 1
1 Studying Philosophy and Psychology in Paris 7
2 Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure 28
3 Psychology and Mental Illness 53
4 Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker 80
5 Nietzsche and Heidegger 109
6 Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw 126
7 Hamburg, Kant 148
8 Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision 166
Coda: Towards Archaeology 189
Notes 193
Index 265
Acknowledgements
1
Richard A. Lynch, ‘Michel Foucault’s Shorter Works in English’, in Christopher
Falzon, Timothy O’Leary and Jana Sawicki (eds), A Companion to Foucault,
Oxford: Blackwell, 2013, 562–92.
xii Abbreviations and Archival References
Archival material
BEIN Michel Foucault Library of Presentation Copies, Beinecke
Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University
BNF Fonds Michel Foucault, Archives et Manuscrits,
Bibliothèque Nationale de France
CAPHÉS Fonds Georges Canguilhem and Fonds Gérard Simon,
Centre d’Archives en Philosophie, Histoire et Édition des
Sciences, École Normale Supérieure
DMZ Fonds Georges Dumézil, Collège de France
HYP Fonds Jean Hyppolite, Bibliothèque Lettres Ulm, École
Normale Supérieure
IMEC Fonds Centre Michel Foucault, Fonds Louis Althusser,
Fonds Jacques Derrida and Fonds La Table Ronde,
L’Institut Mémoires de l’édition contemporaine, l’abbaye
d’Ardenne, Caen
NC 1874 Alliance Française d’Upsal (Franska Alliansen, Uppsala),
Uppsala University special collections, Carolina Rediviva
Library
StATG Archiv Roland Kuhn, Staatsarchiv des Kantons Thurgau,
Frauenfeld
xiv Abbreviations and Archival References
Note
Unpaginated manuscripts have a page number in brackets, with ‘r’
recto and ‘v’ verso used when needed. Given the nature of the mate-
rials, these are correct to the time consulted– m
aterial can be moved,
reversed or misplaced.
Introduction
In the late 1970s Foucault said to Jean-Pierre Barou: ‘when I die, I will
leave no manuscripts’.1 Writing in 1993, his biographer David Macey
judged that ‘he came close to fulfilling that promise’. Foucault’s close
friend Hervé Guibert ‘was ordered to destroy the drafts of the final
volumes of Histoire de la sexualité and all the preparatory materials’.2
This was due to Foucault’s wish that no one do to him what Max
Brod had done to Franz Kafka.3 We now know that neither Foucault
nor Macey was correct.
The publication of Foucault’s thirteen Collège de France courses
has been supplemented by volumes of lectures given elsewhere. Other
lectures, transcriptions of radio programmes, interviews and discus-
sions have all appeared in the past several years. Most notably, the
fourth volume of the History of Sexuality, Les Aveux de la chair
[Confessions of the Flesh] appeared in early 2018.4 Attention is now
turning to materials relating to courses given at universities in France,
Brazil and Tunisia from the 1950s and 1960s. In addition, Foucault’s
working notes and manuscripts are available at the Bibliothèque
Nationale de France.5
This book is chronologically the first of a sequence of four books
providing an account of Michel Foucault’s entire career. It is the
third to be written, following Foucault’s Last Decade and Foucault:
The Birth of Power.6 The missing years of 1962–9, from Birth of the
Clinic to The Archaeology of Knowledge, will be the topic of the
final volume, The Archaeology of Foucault. The order of the books’
writing has in large part been dictated by the availability of materials
either by posthumous publication or in the archive.
2 Introduction
The focus here is on the very earliest Foucault, from the traces of
his intellectual formation until the publication and defence of his
thesis Folie et déraison: Histoire de la folie à l’âge classique in 1961.
That work, better known in French simply as Histoire de la folie
and in English as the History of Madness, was a book that Foucault
regularly described as his first, marginalizing his earlier works as
peripheral and insignificant.
Foucault certainly did not publish much before 1961– the short
book Maladie mentale et personnalité, a couple of book chapters, a
long introduction to a translation, a book-length translation, and a
short book notice. All those publications are discussed in this book,
of course, but its sources are deeper. The posthumous publications
and the archives are invaluable to this approach. Like the previous
books, this book makes use of all available material in tracing a story
of intellectual history. Yet while this book is not itself a biography,
compared to Foucault’s Last Decade and Foucault: The Birth of
Power it does use more biographical sources. This is because there are
relatively few other pieces of evidence for this early part of Foucault’s
career. There are almost no interviews from this period; Foucault
published little compared to later periods; and because he was not yet
famous, there are fewer contemporary accounts of his work.
This is also, relatively speaking, a period which has been neglected
by his commentators. Back in 1993, biographer James Miller com-
plained that ‘the available evidence for Foucault’s early intellectual
itinerary is sketchy, and open to different interpretations’.7 Today
the sources are more extensive, though doubtless the possibility of
multiple readings remains. There are good reasons for this beyond
the limited publications. For one, Foucault did much to try to cover
over the traces of this period. He tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to pre-
vent the re-edition of his 1954 book; eventually consenting to revise
it in 1962 as Maladie mentale et psychologie so that it removed some
of the claims that no longer worked with his later writing. But that
version too went out of print in the late 1960s. His two early trans-
lations, of the psychologist Ludwig Binswanger and the physician
Viktor von Weizsäcker, went out of print, and when the Binswanger
translation was republished it was without his long introduction
and his role in the translation and its notes was unmentioned. His
other publications from the 1950s were in such obscure outlets that
even French readers had little access to them: it was only with the
publication of Dits et écrits ten years after his death that they were
collected and more widely available. One short review was missed by
the editors of that volume. Of these early texts only the Binswanger
introduction has been translated into English. Maladie mentale et
Introduction 3
psychologie has been translated, but that only gives a partial insight
into the original book.
While much has been preserved in archives, much has also been
lost. There are almost no extant materials relating to Foucault’s
teaching in Uppsala, Warsaw and Hamburg. The only records of
some of Foucault’s early 1950s lectures in France are in the form of
student notes. Draft materials were often discarded or reused as scrap
paper. There is also a long-standing rumour that Foucault and the
sociologist Jean-Claude Passeron ghost-wrote articles for the French
Communist Party (PCF) journal La Nouvelle Critique in the early
1950s, stemming from two conversations with the author and diarist
Claude Mauriac.8 Neither Foucault’s first biographer Didier Eribon
nor Macey was able to substantiate these rumours, and no new evi-
dence seems to have come to light since.9 There is also the tantalizing
mention of a text written by Foucault on René Descartes in 1952,
which was commissioned by the PCF for the journal Clarté. It was
apparently considered too difficult for students and not published.10
No archive seems to have a copy of this text, whose non-publication
frustrated Foucault and contributed to his growing distance from the
party (C 18/18).
lished in 1944 but, unlike Jean-Paul Sartre’s work from the previous
year, has only recently been translated.20 Wahl was also significant
in terms of his engagement with Anglophone work, a textbook on
French philosophy, and a general introduction on Philosophies of
Existence.21 Wahl ran the Collège philosophique at which Derrida
presented ‘Cogito and the History of Madness’ in 1963; and would
invite Foucault to give the ‘What is an Author?’ lecture to the Société
française de philosophie in 1969.22
Crucially for Foucault, Wahl taught on Heidegger from the mid
1940s through the 1950s. Derrida recalls that Heidegger was very
much a presence at the ENS due to Beaufret and Hyppolite.23 But
Wahl’s Sorbonne courses did much more. They were based on both on
his reading of published texts, but also his knowledge of Heidegger’s
courses of the 1920s and 1930s.24 Despite some reports, Wahl did not
attend lectures himself, noting in a letter to Heidegger of December
1937 that he ‘would love to meet with you one day. But all sorts
of obstacles stand in the way at present.’25 Foremost among those
obstacles was his Jewish heritage, which meant he left Europe during
the war. But Wahl certainly had access to notes from Heidegger’s
courses.
Wahl’s introductory course from January to June 1946 discussed
Being and Time, but also Heidegger’s work on Kant and his discussion
of truth, which as Jean Montenot notes closely parallels Heidegger’s
own 1928–9 course at the University of Freiburg Einleitung in die
Philosophie [Introduction to Philosophy] (GA27).26 Indeed, it follows
Heidegger to such a remarkable degree that as Dominique Janicaud
says, it is not so much ‘a course on Heidegger, but a commentary on
a course by Heidegger’.27 It was delivered in the academic year before
Foucault began University studies, but Defert says that Foucault
attended what sounds like a similar course from October 1946.28
A very young Kostas Axelos, newly arrived from Greece, was there
for the earlier course, and recalls that Wahl ‘did not read a text
written in advance, and only consulted the notes he had with him
very occasionally’.29 It seems likely that Foucault attended Wahl’s
1950 course L’Idée d’être chez Heidegger, and possibly the December
1951 to March 1952 course La Pensée de Heidegger et la Poésie de
Hölderlin.30
While the dominant French reading of Heidegger in the late 1940s
and early 1950s focused on the texts available in translation, and
tended to read him through Sartrean and Kierkegaardian lenses,31
Wahl was able to provide a much richer interpretation. These courses
make extensive use of Heidegger’s writings after Being and Time, with
a special focus on the collection Holzwege. Holzwege was published
10 Studying Philosophy and Psychology in Paris
in 1942, probably saving his life.47 After the war Wahl clearly had
access to other unpublished courses by Heidegger, including the one
on Nietzsche on which he lectured. Student transcripts circulated and
Foucault clearly had access to them too. Foucault’s engagement with
Heidegger will be fully discussed in Chapter 5.
Psychology
Alongside this work on philosophy, Foucault was also studying psy-
chology. Foucault’s formal teachers included Lagache, who established
the diploma in psychology at the Sorbonne and with Jacques Lacan
formed the breakaway Société française de psychanalyse in 1953.102
Lacan pays tribute to Lagache’s work in Écrits, devoting a whole
essay to him.103 Foucault also attended classes by the neurologist and
psychiatrist Ajuriaguerra who was in 1975 elected to a chair at the
Collège de France.104 Of course, not all the influences came from the
classroom: Foucault was a voracious reader too. Georges Politzer’s
1928 work, Critique of the Foundations of Psychology, was certainly
important.105 Politzer was a PCF theorist, executed by the Gestapo in
1942, who made one of the few PCF contributions to psychological
theory.106 In the early 1920s Politzer was one of the members of the
Philosophies group of whom Georges Friedmann, Norbert Guterman
and Lefebvre were also members.107 Politzer translated Friedrich
Schelling’s La Liberté humaine, to which Lefebvre contributed a long
introduction– one of his first major publications– in 1926.108 Politzer
is also known for La Crise de la psychologie contemporaine,109 and
was influential to Merleau-Ponty, Lacan and Laplanche.110
Politzer is critical of recent developments in psychology, with an
explicit focus on Freud and The Interpretation of Dreams. His key
innovation is to critique the distinction between manifest and latent
contents of mental life,111 and to propose what he calls ‘concrete
psychology’. For Politzer there is only one field of consciousness,
and he therefore is strongly critical of Freud’s turn to abstraction,
his metapsychology, especially in the light of his earlier promise of
a more concrete work. Metapsychology detached psychology from
empirical evidence, and Politzer is too much of a phenomenologist
for that to be valid. ‘Metapsychology has lived its life, and the history
of psychology is beginning.’112 Politzer is also critical of the scientific
pretensions of modern psychology: ‘We need to understand that psy-
chologists are scientists like evangelized wild tribes are Christian.’113
The Critique was intended to begin a three-volume study, Matériaux
pour la Critique des fondements de psychologie,114 with ‘another
volume on Gestalt theory, with a chapter on phenomenology’, and
a third on ‘behaviourism and its different forms with a chapter on
18 Studying Philosophy and Psychology in Paris
applied psychology’.115 While this work was cut short by his execu-
tion, it would be developed by many who followed his inspiration.
Politzer developed one approach to psychology, in contrast to
Ignace Meyerson’s more historical approach.116 Defert claims that
Foucault spent time with Meyerson from October 1951 (C 17/17; CH
40), which has been used to argue for the importance of Meyerson
for Foucault’s work.117 However, a letter from Foucault to Meyerson
from June 1953 requesting a first meeting challenges this chronol-
ogy.118 A more balanced approach to this relation to contemporary
currents in psychology can be found in the unpublished thesis of
Alessandro de Lima Francisco.119 In addition, Defert recounts that
Pierre Morichau-Beauchant, one of the first French psychoanalysts,
and a family friend of the Foucaults, gave Foucault his collection of
early psychoanalysis journals in October 1951, shortly before his
death and just as Foucault began teaching (C 17/17).
Another key figure in Foucault’s knowledge of psychology was
teaching outside the formal university system. While he was still
based in Paris, Foucault attended Lacan’s seminar, which was held
for two hours on Wednesdays from November to July.120 The seminar
began in 1951, initially in Lacan’s living room, before moving to the
Hôpital Sainte-Anne in late 1953. Lacan was fifty when the seminar
began, and there was a lot of clinical and theoretical experience
behind it. Lacan’s thesis On Paranoid Psychosis in Relationship to
Personality had been published in 1932, and there were other early
publications.121 Écrits begins with a text from 1936, but it is selected
writings, not a complete works. As Lacan’s son-in-law and seminar
editor, Jacques-Alain Miller, indicates, Lacan believed that his real
work began around the time his seminar teaching began: writings
before that were its ‘antecedents’.122 Hyppolite was an active partic-
ipant in the 1953–4 seminar.123 Miller notes that Hyppolite was a
regular attender, and ‘was quite open-minded at a time when other
French philosophers found Lacan too difficult to understand’.124
It is worth underlining that Lacan’s seminar was, until the 1960s,
simply advertised as ‘Commentaries on the texts of Freud’.125 Sigmund
Freud had died in 1939, and Lacan begins his seminars only twelve
years later. Part of Lacan’s explicit purpose was to return to Freud
himself, stripped of some of the intervening years of interpretation
and adaptation. As he comments: ‘The meaning [sens] of a return to
Freud is a return to Freud’s meaning [sens].’126 A crucial text was the
1953 Rome lecture ‘The Function and Field of Speech and Language
in Psychoanalysis’, which has been described as ‘for all practical pur-
poses the manifesto of the structuralist reinterpretation of Freud’.127
Miller notes that instead of a recording being made, or Lacan’s
Studying Philosophy and Psychology in Paris 19
notes being available for editing, the seminar sessions were recorded
in shorthand by a stenographer and then typed up. Copies were made
of this typescript, which circulated for several years before Miller
began the process of editing the seminars for publication.128 But the
stenographer only began work when the seminar moved to Sainte-
Anne. As a consequence, there are few traces of the first two years’
sessions, looking at Freud’s most famous case studies. In 1953 Lacan
indicates that the ‘Wolf Man’ was the focus in the first year (1951–2);
the ‘Rat Man’ in the second (1952–3).129 In the first year he also
discussed the Dora case, but no notes survive.130 Miller suggests that
‘Intervention on Transference’ in Écrits contains echoes of this year’s
discussion.131 In the second year Lacan discussed the ‘Wolf Man’ case
again, of which some notes are available.132 The opening lines of the
first session refer back to the Dora case. Unfortunately, no notes on
the ‘Rat Man’ discussion have been preserved. However, Lacan’s
Paris lecture ‘The Neurotic’s Individual Myth’, which was circulated
in unauthorized form from 1953, and finally published in 1978, may
draw on material first delivered in this seminar.133 Miller also suggests
that the Rome lecture reflects this work.134
For his 1953–4 seminar, Lacan discussed ‘Freud’s papers on tech-
nique’, and a partial transcript forms the first volume of the published
seminars.135 Unfortunately almost all of the 1953 material is lost,
with the published version really beginning with the 13 January 1954
session. Lacan utilized material from the seminar in some of his other
lectures and writings. ‘Variations on the Standard Treatment’ and
‘Introduction and Reply to Hyppolite’ stem directly from this seminar,
and were published in 1955 and 1956 but, as Miller has noted, texts
from several years later pick up and elaborate on themes discussed in
this class. He mentions two: ‘Remarks on Daniel Lagache’ in 1960,
and ‘The Mistaking of the Subject Supposed to Know’ from 1968.136
In 1954–5 the seminar topic was ‘The Ego in Freud’s Theory and
in the Technique of Psychoanalysis’.137 The two key texts read were
Freud’s ‘Beyond the Pleasure Principle’ and ‘The Ego and the Id’.138 In
these early years Lacan was therefore working through Freud’s texts
systematically– beginning with the case studies, moving to the papers
on technique, and then material on metapsychology. In 1955–6 he
turned to the psychoses, mainly through a reading of the case of Judge
Schreber.139
Maurice Pinguet notes that Foucault went every week to hear Lacan,
and a diary entry suggests this began in 1951.140 Pinguet was a friend
of Foucault from their days at the ENS, who moved to Japan in the
1950s (C 17/17; 22/24).141 He adds that Foucault also attended the
seminars when they moved to Sainte-Anne, and explicitly mentions
20 Studying Philosophy and Psychology in Paris
Comte, with a range of specific texts for the oral– o nes by Plato,
Aristotle, Cicero, Seneca, Leibniz, Descartes, Comte, Jules Lachelier,
Psychologie et Métaphysique; Émile Boutroux, L’Idée de loi natur-
elle; Léon Brunschvicq, Les Ages d’intelligence. For candidates not
working with Greek, those texts could be replaced either by the
first book of Kant’s Critique of Practical Reason and the third of
Schopenhauer’s The World as Will and Representation, or Berkeley’s
Three Dialogues and the first three books of Hume’s A Treatise of
Human Nature.174 For 1951 the main authors were Plotinus, Spinoza,
Hume, Comte and Bergson. For the written part, the texts were by
Plato, Plotinus, Cicero, Seneca, Spinoza, Descartes and Brunschvicq,
along with French translations of Kant and Hegel. For those not
taking Greek, there were texts from Kant, Schopenhauer, Berkeley
and Hume.175 Clearly an unsuccessful candidate in one year already
had a head start for the next, although the curriculum was still formi-
dable. The written parts in 1950 were on the notion of personality;
affective memory; and the positivist spirit of Comte;176 and in 1951
on experience and theory, perceptual activity and intelligence, and a
supposed dialogue between Bergson and Spinoza on the themes of
time and eternity.177
The topics chosen for the agrégation are significant, leading to
the specialized and sustained study of entire bodies of work by stu-
dents, as well as the publication of studies on the thinkers chosen by
academics.178 These processes, as Schrift has discussed, thereby help
to cement and shape a canon.179 At the ENS, Althusser was the key
person preparing students for the examination, and as well as his
teaching, he would take students away to the Royaumont abbey just
north of Paris in the first half of July for intensive preparations.180
The president of the agrégation jury was Canguilhem. This was
part of his role as Inspector General of philosophy in the French
higher education system 1948–55. This was a period when he did not
give his own courses.181 Before this Canguilhem taught at Strasbourg
and, while he succeeded Gaston Bachelard at the Sorbonne, he only
moved there in November 1955, by which time Foucault was already
in Uppsala. This helps to set some of the claims of the relation in
context. It is sometimes said that Canguilhem was Foucault’s teacher
in the 1950s, supervisor of his doctoral thesis on madness, and that
Bachelard’s influence on Foucault comes through him.182 None of
these things are straightforwardly true. There is no evidence that
Foucault attended any courses: Canguilhem was not teaching when
Foucault was in Paris, and the files at the BNF do not contain any
notes.
Bachelard is well known as a philosopher and historian of science,
26 Studying Philosophy and Psychology in Paris
to the ENS, the first significant encounter was in the early 1950s
for the agrégation.193 Some traces of Foucault’s practice work are
preserved in Althusser’s papers at IMEC. Althusser kept his notes
on student practice presentations, with his grades written on top.
Foucault scored consistently highly on these, usually between 13 and
15 out of 20, better than most other students whose marks have been
preserved. For one on destiny Althusser suggested it was worth 15
or 16; for another on virtue 16 or 17. Another on science mentioned
Cavaillès and Trofim Lysenko, and Althusser suggested it was worth
15.194 But Althusser also cautioned him to take care, not to be too
obscure for the jury, to avoid ‘dangerous’ vocabulary, and wordplay.
He suggested one text on science and philosophy would score 17–18,
or 13–14, depending on whether the jury read it twice or once. The
text was ‘too rich’ and some elliptical thoughts risked being seen as
‘ignorance’.195
Foucault failed the agrégation in 1950, to general surprise.196
Candidates could be eliminated at each stage, and it was the first
oral examination, on hypotheses in science, which Foucault failed,
scoring just 9 out of 20.197 The sociologist Georges Davy reported
that Foucault had tried to display his knowledge rather than answer-
ing the question, discussing Parmenides and not Claude Bernard.198
Among the candidates who beat him were Pierre Aubenque, Jean-
Pierre Faye, Jean-François Lyotard and Jean Laplanche.199 Althusser’s
students usually did well, with five each passing in 1950 and 1951,
but nonetheless the failures led to rumours of a bias against com-
munists. The agrégation was strongly criticized in the PCF journal
La Nouvelle Critique in 1951, in an article signed by Jean Néry, but
which some thought the editor Kanapa himself may have written.
‘Néry’ was actually Althusser’s student Michel Verret, who passed on
his second attempt in 1953.200
Foucault’s failure seems to have led to a major depressive episode,
including a spell in an institution, where Althusser helped him to
get better treatment and housing.201 However, he did spend three
weeks in Göttingen in August 1950, at the Fridtjof Nansen Haus as
part of an international study programme.202 He returned to study
at the ENS, and retook the agrégation in 1951. The jury included
Hyppolite, Davy, and Canguilhem again served as president. This
time Foucault drew ‘sexuality’ for the first oral component, added
to the list by Canguilhem. After the event, Foucault formally com-
plained, apparently outraged by this unsuitable topic, ironically so,
given his own extensive work on the theme in his later career.203 Like
Verret, Foucault passed the agrégation on this second attempt, placed
second in the philosophy cohort.204
2
Teaching at Lille and the
École Normale Supérieure
Having passed the agrégation, the usual route for a French academic
was teaching in a lycée, before a university post. Instead, Foucault
applied to the Fondation Thiers, a residential research centre in
the north of Paris. Foucault had discussed this with Canguilhem as
Inspector General,1 and visited Georges Duhamel of the Académie
française to submit his candidacy on 31 May 1951.2 He was awarded
a three-year fellowship and in the 1951–2 academic year began work
on what was intended to be his doctoral thesis, under the supervision
of Henri Gouhier, on the broad area of the philosophy of psychol-
ogy.3 The director Paul Mazon was his second sponsor [parrain]
and reported to the Fondation at the end of the year that Foucault’s
planned two theses were on ‘the problem of the human sciences in
the post-Cartesians’ and ‘the notion of culture in contemporary psy-
chology’. Mazon adds that the first seemed ‘particularly interesting
to him’, with its examination of how ‘Cartesian thought developed
through foreign influences, Italian and Dutch’ and how this then
led to the work of Malebranche and Bayle.4 Foucault’s interest in
these topics was a direct link back to Merleau-Ponty’s lectures on
Malebranche and Maine de Biran, and indeed Gouhier told Eribon
that the secondary thesis would be on ‘Malebranche psychologist’.5
From October 1952 until June 1955, Foucault took up a position
as assistant in psychology at the faculty of letters at the University
of Lille.6 Although Foucault passed the agrégation in philosophy, he
taught psychology, a subject with which he had a long and compli-
cated relation.7 Not all academic subjects had an agrégation, so this
was not uncommon. Defert and Bourdieu, for example, both passed in
Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure 29
more senior colleagues, the Dean assessed his work very favourably
in April 1954: ‘Young, extremely dynamic lecturer. Organized the
teaching of scientific psychology in a talented manner. Truly deserves
promotion.’20
During his year at the Fondation, and until spring 1955 while at
Lille, Foucault also taught at the ENS. Several of his courses were
repeated between institutions. Althusser had asked Foucault to take
on this position as répétiteur [tutor] of psychology at the ENS as soon
as he had passed his agrégation in 1951.21 The joke was that while it
was undoubtedly difficult to enter the ENS, it was almost impossible
to leave.22 (Although, the previous year, anticipating Foucault would
pass that summer, Althusser had written on Foucault’s behalf to the
University of Besançon, to try to get him a post there.)23 Althusser’s
biographer Yann Moulier Boutang specifies that Foucault began a
course at the ENS on 9 January 1952 on psychology, both on exper-
imental work, including Pavlov’s experiments, and psychoanalytic
work on personality.24
Foucault’s lectures were held on Monday evenings in the small Salle
Cavaillès on the rue d’Ulm, and were attended by Bourdieu, Derrida,
Gérard Genette, Jacques Lagrange, Jean Molino, Passeron, Maurice
Pinguet, Gérard Simon and Paul Veyne, among others. It is reported
that he regularly had an audience of fifteen to twenty-five, when
classes usually were in single figures.25 Macey adds that Foucault also
gave some classes in philosophy: ‘Veyne, for example, recalls a daz-
zling lecture on Descartes but, unfortunately, nothing of its content.’26
He also remembers the closing line of another lecture: ‘In reality, the
ontological argument for the existence of God serves as a theological
foundation for the essence of world.’ 27
Veyne told Eribon that ‘his course was famous. It was like going to
a show’; Derrida that ‘I was struck, like many others, by his speaking
ability. His eloquence, authority and brilliance were impressive.’28
Derrida also remembers that he wrote an essay on time:
Althusser said to me: ‘I can’t grade this. It’s too difficult, too obscure
for the agrégation. It might be very dangerous. But since I don’t feel I
can evaluate it, I’ll ask Foucault’s opinion . . .’ So he read this paper
and told me: ‘Well it’s either an F or an A+.’29
was ‘a perfect connoisseur of Husserl’, but also for ‘bringing out quite
different possibilities of philosophizing which phenomenology never
ceased to promise but also perhaps sterilized’. Foucault adds that the
first task of philosophy is reading, la Lecture, and that Derrida has
achieved that.31 Derrida later described himself as having had the
‘good fortune’ to have been taught by him, and that he retained ‘the
consciousness of an admiring and grateful disciple’.32
In the summer of 1952 Foucault also studied for a psychopathol-
ogy diploma at the Institut de psychologie de Paris.33 This was a
course which involved both theory and practice, taught by Jean Delay
and Maurice Benassy as well as sessions at the Sainte-Anne hospi-
tal.34 Foucault also took his ENS students to Sainte-Anne to observe
patient–doctor sessions.35 Defert adds that he gained a third certifi-
cate, in experimental psychology, from the Institut in 1953 (C 19/19).
Joel Whitebook suggests that this meant Foucault ‘possessed all the
credentials necessary to become either an academic psychologist or a
practising clinician’.36 To a degree, for the next three years Foucault
combined both– t eaching and working in two clinical settings. Foucault
continued to live in Paris for these years, sharing a flat with his brother
at 59 rue Monge. The flat was walking distance from the ENS, and he
commuted to Lille once a week, staying at a hotel near the station.37
He was therefore what the French call a ‘turbo-prof’, something he
would also be in his post at Clermont-Ferrand in the 1960s. Like many
French professors, Foucault required access to the research facilities in
Paris, but he also preferred to live in the city for personal and cultural
reasons.38 For example Foucault saw Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for
Godot in January 1953 in Paris. As he later recalls, it had a profound
impact on him (DE#343 IV, 608; DL–/176).39
The sources for Foucault’s teaching in this period are multiple but
incomplete. There are three substantial manuscripts preserved at the
BNF: ‘Connaissance de l’homme et réflexion transcendantale’, an
untitled one on Binswanger and ‘Phénoménologie et psychologie’.
While all relate to teaching in Lille, Foucault repeated some of the
material, both in Lille and at the ENS. With the first, at least part
of the version preserved dates from later than its first delivery. With
the others, while they may have their origins in courses, the versions
preserved are much more developed manuscripts whose possible pur-
poses are discussed below. All are handwritten, and to make things
more confusing, not all pages are numbered. There are other mate-
rials, and some student notes from Lagrange at IMEC and Simon
at CAPHÉS, which both relate to teaching at the ENS.40 There are
many open questions and inconsistencies, particularly concerning
dating, between these different sources and accounts from Defert and
32 Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure
further. West was insistent on her wish to die, and eventually she
was released into the care of her husband, even though Binswanger
and his colleagues knew she would kill herself. Within a few days
she took poison and died. In his analysis of the case, Binswanger
interprets her suicide as her only resolution ‘to the impossibility of
an appropriate [or authentic, eigentlichen] being-toward-death’.102
Yet her case happened in the early 1920s, and Binswanger did not
publish his analysis of the case until the mid 1940s. When he wrote
it is subject to dispute.103 His Daseinsanalysis of the case is thus
entirely retrospective: Heidegger had not even published Being and
Time when West was treated. Binswanger himself claimed that some
distance was necessary, because in this instance he had access to ‘an
unusual abundance of spontaneous and immediately comprehensible
verbal manifestations such as self-descriptions, dream accounts, diary
entries, poems, letters, autobiographical drafts; whereas usually, and
especially in cases of deteriorated schizophrenics, we have to obtain
the material for Daseinsanalysis by persistent and systematic explo-
ration of our patients over months and years’.104 As Naamah Akavia
has noted, in 1929 Binswanger’s eldest son killed himself at the age
of twenty, and may have shaped Binswanger’s retrospective reading
of the case.105 Much of the reaction to the case has been critical of the
diagnosis, treatment and subsequent discussion.
Foucault explores whether Binswanger’s analyses speak just to the
ontic level in Heidegger’s terms, or are able to reveal ontological
structures. While the case studies tend towards phenomenological
description, but not the more fundamental question of being in gen-
eral, Foucault suggests that Binswanger’s work is able to reveal the
ontological too.106 As such, Binswanger’s work is valued both for its
specifics and for its exposure of deeper structures, just as Heidegger’s
analysis of angst, thrownness and facticity did.107
One of these aspects is space and time, and the discussion of
spatiality in Heidegger’s Being and Time is explicitly related to
Binswanger’s work on space.108 Foucault makes a distinction between
‘the space of the body and the space of the milieu or the entourage
(the Leibraum and the Umraum)’. Here he makes a passing refer-
ence to von Weizsäcker’s work Der Gestaltkreis on the notion of
Leistung, performance or achievement.109 Foucault also draws out
the importance of Binswanger’s analysis of the Umwelt, Mitwelt
and Eigenwelt of West. The Umwelt is the environment, milieu or
surrounding world; the Mitwelt the shared world with others; and
the Eigenwelt the one-world or the proper world– E igenlichkeit
being the Heideggerian term for appropriateness, often translated as
authenticity. Here Foucault provides the terms in German, and glosses
Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure 39
‘Phénoménologie et psychologie’
A manuscript with the title ‘Phéno et y’ is another extremely densely
written text, with only a small margin on the left side of each page,
and writing continuing right to the foot of the page.126 The title is
followed by the date 1953–4, and Foucault likely gave a course with
this title in that year, though other indications suggest it was given in
1954–5, possibly as a repeat.127 Sabot adds that the course delivered
included a lecture on psychology in Husserl and Merleau-Ponty,128 for
which a manuscript can be found at the BNF, though archived sepa-
rately.129 There is also a twelve-page manuscript entitled ‘Psychologie
et phénoménologie’, which seems to date from the same period, and
looks like a lecture or outline, though it bears only thematic rather
than structural relation to the manuscript.130
However, the main manuscript preserved is unlikely to be a course.
There are relatively few crossings out or reorganization of material:
Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure 41
Other Materials
There are various reports of other lectures given during this period.
In Lille, Sabot indicates that Foucault gave some classes on ‘General
Psychology’, including lectures on ‘Child Psychology and Pedagogy’,
‘Social Psychology’ and ‘Psychology of Man at Work’. Foucault also
taught on some of the philosophy courses, though details are scant.
Sabot reports that Foucault contributed to courses on ‘General History
of Philosophy’, ‘General Philosophy and Logic’, and ‘Morals and
Sociology’.155 Lagrange and Simon have some notes from courses they
attended at the ENS. It is very difficult to summarize what Foucault
actually said when the sources are student notes, but the notes sometimes
44 Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure
a single lecture. The outline indicates the relation between the indi-
vidual and collective, at institutions, at belief, attitude and opinion,
and group and cultural psychology. Indicative figures mentioned
include William McDougall, Alfred Espinas, Gabriel Tarde, Abram
Kardiner’s work on basic personality structure, Ralph Linton’s Study
of Man, Margaret Mead, Ruth Benedict, Hume, Janet, Jacob Moreno
and American psychology.
Lagrange’s 1953 lecture notes overlap with this, but they begin
with a discussion of the relation between animal and human society.
It outlines the ‘evolutionist schema’, where sexuality leads to soci-
ety, initially of the couple, and from there to the family and group.
But it seems that Foucault challenged this by suggesting society is
independent of sexuality and that families do not constitute society.
Foucault shifts to a psychological account, discussing several of the
figures from Simon’s outline, but also very briefly, Nietzsche.165 The
relation between Husserl and Freud is outlined– a theme developed
in Foucault’s work on Binswanger– a s well as Rorschach tests.166
Much more extensive are Lagrange’s notes from a 1953 course on
‘La Psychologie génétique’; and Simon’s from a course which ran from
16 November 1953 to 29 March 1954 on ‘La Causalité psychologique’.
Lagrange’s notes indicate the former was another course on child devel-
opment, looking at the relation between individual development and
social conditions, drawing on a range of key figures in child develop-
ment, including Piaget, Melanie Klein, Anna Freud, Dorothy Burlingham
and Maria Montessori.167 It had a long discussion of the development
of spatial structures,168 of personality disorders in young children,169 the
Oedipal complex, intellectual and moral development, and IQ, among
other themes.170 There are brief mentions of Lacan and Merleau-Ponty.171
The course seems to have ended with a call for a ‘truly materialist his-
tory of child activity’.172 Foucault told Jean-Paul Aron in 1952 that he
planned to publish on genetic psychology, perhaps in La Raison, but no
manuscript seems to have survived.173
In contrast, materials relating to causality appear in Foucault’s own
notes, and tally quite closely with Simon’s notes.174 The material seems
to have connected regular themes from this period with some differ-
ent, more technical themes. There is some philosophical background
with problems from Husserl, Merleau-Ponty, Leibniz and Hegel, but
then it shifts to explore psychology in more detail. This included a
discussion of Freud’s work, including his ‘Dora’ case. Foucault has a
set of notes on ‘Causalité et genèse y’: a title which appears in Simon’s
notes when he begins his page numbering again. It is possible that this
course and the one for which Lagrange has notes are related.175 This
lecture contained a very detailed discussion of Piaget, including his
46 Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure
combined with the writing he was doing at the time. But this was
not all. After undertaking his psychiatric studies in the early 1950s,
Foucault also worked at the Hôpital Saint-Anne in Paris. At the
Hôpital, Foucault was a stagiaire, a trainee, who was unpaid and
which had no official status or duties.183 He worked with Georges
and Jacqueline Verdeaux, who had set up an electroencephalogra-
phy unit in the hospital, alongside Delay.184 Jacqueline had known
Foucault since his childhood, as her parents had been friends of the
Foucaults. She had spent the war with her brother in the safety of
Poitiers, and during that time she became the assistant anaesthetist to
Foucault’s father, Dr Paul Foucault.185 Delay had first met Foucault
as a patient, when Foucault had been referred for his own depressive
episodes, before teaching him in the diploma in psychopathology.186
Genette tells the story of Foucault inviting his ENS students to visit
his laboratory. He led them to a dark closet, from which he extracted
a shoe box containing a white mouse, and told them that this box was
the ENS’s new psychology laboratory.187 His own experimental work
does not seem to have developed beyond this, and it was with others
that he gained these practical skills. The work that the Verdeaux were
undertaking at Saint-Anne was both experimental and part of the
hospital’s clinical work. Their research used electroencephalography,
polygraph tests, respiration and other physiological measures, and
tracked how these were affected by sensory stimuli such as music,
but also drugs. They published several articles on this work, many in
collaboration with Delay, leading to a handbook authored by the two
men.188 Macey reports that Foucault was used as both ‘an experimen-
tal subject or as an experimenter’, also producing reports on patients
and conducting tests.189 Some experiments involved animal testing.190
It was here that Foucault learnt how to use Rorschach tests, which
he practised on friends and family, including his younger brother.191
Eribon notes that Foucault gave a course on the tests as late as the
early 1960s when he was teaching at Clermont-Ferrand.192
Foucault also worked twice a week at the Centre Nationale d’Ori-
entation, based at the Fresnes prison in Val-de-Marne about ten miles
southeast of Paris.193 It had a new electroencephalographic unit, run
by the Verdeaux couple. The technique used electrodes to trace brain
function in response to stimuli of various kinds. With the prisoners
it was in part to assess mental health, brain injuries, and epilepsy as
well as to determine if symptoms were genuine or faked.194 Jacqueline
would collect Foucault from the ENS when she drove down, and he
would work alongside her, taking notes and evaluating and discussing
cases.195 The CNO– later the Centre national d’évaluation– had been
set up in 1950 and began work in 1951. Its purpose was to assess the
48 Teaching at Lille and the École Normale Supérieure
‘very close to and not very different from the inmates’, and that he
was having doubts about the work that fed into his later research:
‘I was uneasy about the profession of medicine. It was there that the
question was planted: What is medical power? What is the authority
that permits it?’205 In October 1982 in Vermont Foucault suggests this
work was a deliberate tactic:
Publications
In parallel with these teaching and practical experiences of psychol-
ogy, Foucault was also publishing. While at Lille he was required to
provide an account of the research work he had carried out in the
1952–3 academic year, for a report published in 1954. He did not
provide a report in his second year there, and had already left by
the end of the third year, so this is the only known source for this
period. Unsurprisingly, given the resources he had from his teaching,
he had the potential to publish a lot. The published list, with spelling
mistakes that are surely due to his handwriting, reads as follows:
Foucault does not directly cite Canguilhem’s On the Normal and the
Pathological at this time, it is hard to ignore the implicit reference
when he claims that ‘contemporary psychology was, at its origin,
an analysis of the abnormal, of the pathological, of the conflictual,
a reflection on the contradictions of man with himself. And if it has
become a psychology of the normal, of the adaptive, the orderly
[ordonné], it is in a second way, as if by an effort to overcome
[dominer] these contradictions’ (DE#2 I, 122; see 150). Yet there is
something of a tension between the Heideggerian phenomenological
approach, with its inherent distrust of scientific method and data, and
an approach developed by Bachelard and Canguilhem to study the
physical and natural sciences.11
Foucault ultimately suggests that neither ‘statistical causality nor
anthropological reflection on existence’ can overcome these problems
(DE#2 I, 137). The essay ends with a return to the theme introduced
at its beginning:
of the patient does not permit such an abstraction and each morbid
individuality must be understood through the practices of the milieu
with regard to them’ (MMPe 15; MMPs 15/12). This includes the
incarceration of the mad, the creation of the hysteric, the relation of
the doctor to the patient. ‘The dialectic of the relations of the individ-
ual to their milieu does not operate in the same way in pathological
physiology and in pathological psychology’ (MMPe 15–16; MMPs
15–16/13).
Taken together, this shows that a different analysis is necessary to
account for these fundamental divisions: ‘it is impossible to transpose
from one to the other the schemata of abstraction, the criteria of
normality, or the definition of the morbid individual’ (MMPe 16;
compare MMPs 16/13). We must abandon the idea of a ‘metapathol-
ogy’ and its postulates, since it is nothing but artificial [factice], ‘it is
the real man which supports its factual unity’ (MMPe 16; compare
MMPs 16/13). The approach must be grounded on ‘man itself, not
on the abstractions of illness’. When examining mental illness, it must
‘look for the concrete forms it can take in the psychological life of
an individual; then determine the conditions that make their diverse
aspects possible, and restore the whole causal system that grounds
them’ (MMPe 16–17). To discuss this different approach, Foucault
proposes a two-part study analysing ‘the psychological dimensions’
and ‘the real conditions’ of the illness (MMPe 17).
Foucault begins Part I with a chapter on ‘Mental Illness and
Evolution’. While nineteenth-century psychology tended to analyse
mental illness in a purely negative way, emphasizing the suppressed
functions, the absences and the way that ‘the patient’s consciousness
is disorientated, obscured, reduced, fragmented’, there is a need for
a more balanced account (MMPe 19; MMPs 19/16). Mental illness
paradoxically ‘effaces’ and ‘emphasizes’, ‘suppresses’ and ‘accentu-
ates’: ‘the essence of mental illness lies not only in the void that it
hollows out, but also in the positive plenitude of the activities of
replacement that fill that void’ (MMPe 20; MMPs 20/17). We need
there to find a method, a ‘dialectic’, though he immediately recognizes
that these two aspects are not simply equal: ‘the positive phenomena
of the illness are opposed to the negative phenomena as the simple to
the complex’, ‘the stable to the unstable’, and the compulsive to the
voluntary (MMPe 20–1; MMPs 20–1/18). These are differences at
the structural level, but there are also evolutionary differences, where
archaic behaviours come back to the surface in place of more recent
acquisitions (MMPe 21; MMPs 21/18–19).
These claims are developed in discussion of John Hughlings
Jackson’s 1884 Croonian lectures on the ‘Evolution and Dissolution
66 Psychology and Mental Illness
the pathological fact’ (MMPe 33; MMPs 33/27). There are two rea-
sons. First, it ignores the organizational characteristics, the residual
personality which cannot be erased: ‘The science of mental pathology
can only be the science of the ill personality’ (MMPe 34; MMPs
34/28). Second, the notion of regression describes an orientation,
but not an origin: ‘madness would be no more than a possibility, the
ever-claimable ransom of human development. . . From the point of
view of evolution, illness has no other status than that of a general
potentiality’ (MMPe 34–5; MMPs 34/28).
Foucault then shifts to biographical and psychological case stud-
ies, suggesting that work on evolution needs to be grounded in an
historical analysis. Evolution works on the basis of hierarchy, with
‘a simultaneity of the anterior and the present [actuel]’, with a move
between the two on the basis of ‘pathological regression’ (MMPe
36; MMPs 36/30). Freud, in contrast, breaks with this model he had
taken, in part, from Darwin, but his ‘stroke of genius’ was in his
ability ‘to go beyond the evolutionist horizon defined by the notion
of libido and reach the historical dimension of the human psyche’
(MMPe 37; MMPs 37/31).39
While some of Freud’s writings on sexuality relate to a psychology
of evolution, many of his other works approach the question from the
perspective of individual history. Foucault outlines some of Freud’s
case histories, including the jealous woman from the Introductory
Lectures, little Hans, and one from Henri Wallon (MMPe 37–42;
MMPs 37–42/31–5).40 He also discusses Anna Freud’s list of defence
mechanisms, which define variants of neurosis,41 and then spends some
time discussing how these manifest in different neuroses, including
the hysteric, the obsessional neurotic and the paranoiac. Regression
is therefore a defence mechanism, ‘or rather it is a recourse to the
set of protective measures already established’ (MMPe 46; MMPs
46/37–8). There is, however, an underlying crucial issue. ‘What is
the patient [malade] defending themselves against when, as a child,
they set up forms of protection that they will reveal once more in the
neurotic repetitions of their adult life?’ (MMPe 46; MMPs 46/38)
There may be something to be found in analysis of individual
cases, and Foucault’s example is that of a young girl who steals a
chocolate bar knowing she will be caught. The theft may be clumsy,
but the strategy is not– it is both for the gratification of the theft,
the attention that will come with it, and the need to feel guilty by
doing this in such a way as to be caught. ‘The pathological mech-
anism is therefore a protection against a conflict, a defence in face
of the contradiction that arouses it’ (MMPe 47; MMPs 47/38). But
he is quick to stress that not all conflicts have ‘a morbid reaction’,
68 Psychology and Mental Illness
it may not be pathological, and ‘it may even be the web [trame] of
all psychological life’ (MMPe 47; MMPs 47/38). Fear and anxiety
might affect ‘normal’ people, as well as patients, though the latter
seem to get caught in a ‘circular monotony’ of symptom and defence
(MMPe 50; MMPs 50/41). Work on evolution therefore needs to be
supplemented by ‘a psychology of genesis’, the individual history of a
patient (MMPe 51; MMPs 51/41–2). But even together this is insuf-
ficient: ‘The analysis of evolution situated the illness as a potentiality
[virtualité]; the individual history makes it possible to envisage it as
a fact of psychological development [devenir]. But it must now be
understood in its existential necessity’ (MMPe 52; MMPs 52/42).
Foucault contends that while ‘analysis of the mechanisms of
[mental] illness’ can explain much, it ‘leaves behind the presence
[présence] of a reality that supersedes those mechanisms and that
constitutes them in their pathological nature’. Présence, missed in the
English translation of the 1962 text, is crucial given the translation
choices made in Foucault and Verdeaux’s work on Binswanger (see
Chapter 4). Anxiety is also significant here, and it cannot be under-
stood in a simple way. Naturalist approaches miss the individual
history, yet historical approaches alone cannot account for its entirety
(MMPe 53; MMPs 53/44). The account must rather go to the heart
of the experience, with ‘a method that owes nothing to the discur-
sive analyses, the mechanistic causality, of the Naturwissenschaften;
a method that must never turn into biographical history, with its
description of successive links and its serial determination’ (MMPe
53–4; MMPs 53–4/44–5).
This approach must ‘grasp sets of elements as totalities whose
elements cannot be dissociated, however dispersed in the history they
may be’ (MMPe 53–4; MMPs 54/45). This is the approach of ‘phe-
nomenological psychology’, an understanding which ‘tries to see the
pathological world with the eyes of the patient themselves: the truth it
seeks is of the order not of objectivity, but of intersubjectivity’ (MMPe
54; MMPs 54/45). Foucault recognizes the importance of Jaspers
here, who showed that ‘intersubjective understanding may reach the
pathological world in its essence’, even if there are ‘morbid forms that
are still and will remain opaque to phenomenological understanding’.
(MMPe 55; MMPs 55/45–6). Nonetheless, he underscores that ‘the
understanding of the sick consciousness and the reconstitution of its
pathological world’ are ‘the two tasks of a phenomenology of mental
illness’ (MMPe 55–6; MMPs 55–6/46).
To understand this, Foucault breaks down the distinction
between a patient on the side of illness and yet ignorant of it, and
a doctor on the side of health, with a knowledge [savoir] of the
Psychology and Mental Illness 69
illness. This does not mean that their views of the illness are the
same. The patient is unable to take distance from the illness as a
process, yet their subjective experience of it remains ‘one of the
essential dimensions of the illness’ (MMPe 56; MMPs 56/47).
Foucault therefore contends that ‘phenomenological reflections
must analyse the variations of this mode of ambiguous conscious-
ness’ (MMPe 57; MMPs 57/47).42
These variations are the relation of illness to corporeal experience;
the complicated relation of the morbid process to their personality;
the creation of an autonomous world by the patient, increasingly
detached from the outside; and the patient’s immersion in it, even
if they can still grasp the world outside ‘as a distant, veiled, reality’
(MMPe 57–9; MMPs 57–9/47–9). This point is significant because,
however much it might obscure things, mental illness always has
a sense of illness, where ‘the sick consciousness is always deployed
with, for itself, a double reference, either to the normal and the patho-
logical, or to the familiar and the strange, or to the particular and
the universal or to waking and dream consciousness’ (MMPe 60–1;
MMPs 60–1/50). Yet it cannot be reduced to this sense of the illness,
but is ‘also directed at a pathological world whose structures we must
now study, thus complementing the noetic analysis by the noematic
analysis’ (MMPe 61; MMPs 61/50)
Foucault then outlines these structures, and this is where he brings
in some recent work. His first example is Eugène Minkowski’s Les
Temps vécu [Lived Time], which examined ‘disturbances in the tem-
poral forms of the morbid world’ (MMPe 61; MMPs 61/50).43 This
temporal transformation can be found in all cases: ‘each disorder
involves a specific alteration in lived time [temps vécu]’ (MMPe
62; MMPs 62/51). Foucault briefly discusses Binswanger’s Über
Ideenflucht and its discussion of the ‘flight of ideas’ of mania, where
‘time is rendered instantaneous by fragmentation; and, lacking any
opening on to past and future, it spins round upon its axis, pro-
ceeding either by leaps or by repetitions’ (MMPe 62; MMPs 62/51).
Equally, drawing on Binswanger’s analysis of the case of Jürg Zünd,
he suggests, schizophrenia can be understood ‘through the imminence
of the Sudden and the Terrifying’ (MMPe 62; MMPs 62/51).44
The second example, unsurprisingly, is space. ‘Space, as a struc-
ture of the lived world [monde vécu], lends itself to the same kind
of analysis’ (MMPe 62; MMPs 62/51). Examples include absence
or confusion over distance, where they ‘recognize here people who
they know to be somewhere else’, or who hear voices in a ‘mythical
space’ rather than the ‘objective space in which sound sources are
situated’ (MMPe 62–3; MMPs 62–3/51). Drawing on Minkowski,
70 Psychology and Mental Illness
Foucault suggests that ‘“clear space” blurs into “obscure space”, the
space of fear and night; or rather they come together in the morbid
world instead of being separated, as in the normal world’ (MMPe
63; MMPs 63/52).45 Another example is the relation to objects in the
world, which are detached from context and ‘instrumental relations
have disappeared’. Here, Foucault draws on Kuhn’s work on schiz-
ophrenics, ‘the importance given to limits, to frontiers, to walls, to
anything that encloses and protects’, a product of the lack of such
limits internally.46 In this, ‘objects have lost their cohesion and space
has lost its coherence’ (MMPe 63; MMPs 63/52). And as he adds,
‘the meaning of “utensility [ustensilité]” has disappeared from space;
the world of Zuhandenen, to use Heidegger’s term, for the patient is
merely a world of Vorhandenen’ (MMPe 64; MMPs 64/52).
The third example broadens the analysis further. ‘It is not only the
spatiotemporal world, the Umwelt, that, in its existential structures,
is disturbed by the illness, but also the Mitwelt, the social and cultural
world’ (MMPe 64; MMPs 64/52). This affects their relation to others,
who appear to them as strangers, detached from context, even as
objects, language seems alien or single words take on a specific impor-
tance (MMPe 64; MMPs 64/53). An alternative pathology is where
individuals encountered are ‘not simply another, but the major Other
[l’Autre majeur]. . . Each face, whether strange or familiar, is merely
a mask, each statement, whether clear or obscure, conceals only one
meaning: the mask of the persecutor and the meaning of persecution’
(MMPe 65; MMPs 65/53).
The fourth and final example concerning the individual’s own body,
which they may experience in strange ways or feel a detachment from
entirely. To the Umwelt, environment or milieu, and the Mitwelt, or
the shared world with others, is added the Eigenwelt, the one-world
or the proper world. Detachment can reach the point where ‘this life,
which is simply a consciousness of immortality, is exhausted in a slow
death, which it prepares by the refusal of all food, all bodily care, and
all material concerns’. Foucault’s example is Binswanger’s analysis of
Ellen West, whose suicide followed many years of feeling a detach-
ment from her body, exhibited either in wishing to fly or float, or in
feeling trapped, and in anorexia (MMPe 66–7; MMPs 66–7/54–5).
While there is a temptation to reduce these cases to historical anal-
yses, and to see the patient’s world as a result of those changes,
Foucault stresses that the ‘morbid world’ cannot be reduced to it.
Indeed, he suggests that any notion of ‘historical causality is possible
only because this world exists: it is this world that forges the link
between cause and effect, the anterior and the ulterior’ (MMPe 68;
MMPs 68/55). He also cites Kuhn without reference: ‘The validity of
Psychology and Mental Illness 71
humaine, who had his property and parental rights removed from
him for reason of insanity. ‘The Marquis is ‘alienated [aliené]’ because
another, in his place, can exercise his rights, enjoy his property, use his
privileges, because, in summary, another has taken his place as legal
subject’ (MMPe 80). The Penal Code of 1801 is designed to replace a
de facto alienation– one of incapacity– w ith a de jure one, in which
‘the rights of the patient, which they can no longer exercise and which
may be misappropriated by another, to a legally designated person’
(MMPe 80–1).
This legal alienation is also found in ‘the later judicial practice of
voluntary internment’, though Foucault clarifies that is not always
dependent on the ‘explicit will of the patient, but dependent on that of
the family’, even if that was always intended to be ‘confirmed by med-
ical diagnosis’ (MMPe 81). The eighteenth century saw mental illness
as part of human nature; the nineteenth removes the rights associated
with that status (MMPe 81). It is this which is core to the definition
of an aliené: the capacities and rights that ‘society recognizes and
confers on every citizen’ are removed from him; ‘this alienation marks
all their social relations, all their experiences, all their conditions of
existence’ (MMPe 81). As well as a link back to possession, alienation
can be seen in various conditions including schizophrenia, psychoses,
and neuroses. Because mental illness is so inscribed into personality it
is distinct from other illnesses: ‘it involves the whole of the individual,
but if it seems to blur the entire personality, is it not to the extent that
the experience of the illness is linked to the experience of alienation in
which man loses what is most human in him?’ There may be a future
without alienation, when ‘it will be possible to envisage the dialectic
of the illness in a personality which remains human’ (MMPe 83),
but for now, alienation is ‘for the patient, much more than a judicial
status, a real experience: it is necessarily inscribed in the pathological
fact’ (MMPe 82).
This, Foucault claims, answers the first question he had posed
at the beginning of the second part. It shows how society came to
give a patient a status of exclusion. The second question remains:
if a patient is seen as foreign, a stranger or outsider to society, how
do social structures nonetheless appear in pathological experience?
(MMPe 83; see 75). To discuss this question, Foucault returns to the
theme of evolution. This approach sees regression as crucial, but this
is not the origin, ‘the real essence of the pathological’. Rather, we
should examine why society has marked the distinction so clearly that
childhood is ‘an unreal, abstract and archaic milieu, unrelated to the
adult world’. As he continues, ‘the whole evolution of contemporary
pedagogy, with its irreproachable aim of preserving the child from
74 Psychology and Mental Illness
In the 1971 re-edition of the text, this note is incorporated into the
glossary, with Foucault and Binswanger being acknowledged for the
formulation.21
This note indicates the remarkable translation choice, apparently
after much discussion, to render Dasein as présence.22 Dasein is a
standard German word, which means existence, and can be found in
philosophical texts before Heidegger. But in his 1927 book Sein und
Zeit, Being and Time, Heidegger uses it in a stressed way to exam-
ine the particular structures and characteristics of human existence,
Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker 83
sense, the issue of being human. One of the reasons Binswanger resists
‘existence’ is that it evokes the idea of ‘existentialism’ and, to his
mind, ‘Heidegger is an ontologist philosopher and not an existential
philosopher in the manner of Sartre.’33 The second is that ‘“Dasein”
includes the soul and the body, the conscious and the unconscious,
the voluntary and the involuntary, thought and action, emotivity,
affectivity and instinct and that an idea which includes all of this can
only be that of Being itself, to the exclusion of any qualification.’34 It
might therefore be questioned why, a few years later, he supported
Verdeaux and Foucault’s choice to render Dasein as présence.
As Henri Maldiney underlines, this term is fundamental to under-
standing the approach that Binswanger develops: ‘Daseinsanalysis
is first an analysis of the structural and temporal structures of pres-
ence.’35 However, it is worth stressing that présence is not only used
for Binswanger’s use of Dasein; for Verdeaux and Foucault it is also
the appropriate translation of Heidegger’s use. This is found when
Binswanger quotes Heidegger, and his translators adopt this term
there. One example is helpful in giving a context to Binswanger’s use
for his focus on the relation between dream and existence– T raum
und Existenz:
Hier ist, um mit Heidegger zu reden, das Dasein vor sein Sein gebracht;
es ist gebracht, insofern als ihm etwas geschieht, und als er nicht
weiss, wie und was ihm geschieht. Das ist der ontologische Grundzug
alles Träumens und seiner Verwandtschaft mit der Angst! [4] Träumen
heisst: Ich weiss nicht, wie mir geschieht.
Nous dirons ici, pour parler avec Heidegger, que la «présence est
amenée devant son être». Elle est y amenée dans la mesure où quelque
chose lui arrive et où elle ne sait pas comment cela lui est arrivé ni
même ce qui lui est arrivé. Ceci est le trait ontologique fondamental de
tout rêve et de sa parenté avec l’angoisse [1]. Rêver signifie: «Je ne sais
pas ce qui m’arrive».
Wir betrachten die Angstträume als den Prototyp der im Dasein als
solchem gelegenen existentiellen Urangst. Vgl Heidegger, Was ist
Metaphysik?
enough. Verdeaux and Foucault were forging a path not just in the
translation of Binswanger, but also in his use of Heideggerian terms.
Introducing Binswanger
Having completed the translation, Verdeaux recalls saying to
Foucault: ‘If you like the book, do a preface for it.’ Then, while
she was in Provence on holiday over Easter 1954, she received a
large envelope. It contained a long, sprawling text, just over twice as
long as the essay it introduced. Foucault’s note simply read: ‘Here is
your Easter egg.’45 This story should be taken with some scepticism:
Binswanger knew Foucault intended to write a 100-page introduc-
tion as early as January 1954.46 In addition, as Chapter 2 discussed,
Foucault had also been teaching on Binswanger, and around this time
wrote a long unpublished manuscript on him. Defert reports that
Foucault had made some translations of Binswanger himself in 1953,
including the case study of Ilse (C18/19),47 and that he had marked
up copies of all of Binswanger’s major books.48 Rather than needing
to be persuaded by Verdeaux to write an introduction to a text for
which he had discovered a real enthusiasm, it seems that Foucault had
a wealth of material on Binswanger already prepared, and that this
project gave him a suitable outlet.
Although there has been some doubt over the date the introduc-
tion was written, Foucault sent it to Binswanger on 27 April 1954.
Easter Sunday was 18 April.49 In a letter to Binswanger accompany-
ing the text, Foucault says that he has two purposes: ‘to show the
importance of the dream for analyse existentielle’ and ‘to show how
your conception of the dream implies a complete renewal of analyses
of imagination’.50 A letter a couple of weeks later from Verdeaux
to Binswanger is somewhat horrified at the state of the text sent.
She encloses a new one, which she has ‘revised and corrected with
Foucault’. She explains that the first version was sent while she was
on holiday, and that when he sent it, ‘the poor boy was in such an
awful fatigued state that he did not revise it. . . there are so many
typing mistakes certain passages are incomprehensible’.51
Her letter crossed in the post with Binswanger’s very positive reply.
His letter to Foucault of 6 May 1954 shows that he not only read
the introduction with interest, but shared it with Kuhn and Wilhelm
Szilasi, a former colleague of Husserl and Heidegger, now living
in Switzerland.52 A few days later, on 10 May, Binswanger wrote
again, saying that Foucault had done ‘an excellent job’, which was
a ‘great scientific honour’ to him, especially praising his work on
Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker 89
the absolute privilege of their object: man, or rather, the being of man
[l’être-homme], Menschsein’ (DE#1 I, 66; DIE 31). Foucault follows
this with a brief mention of anthropology, saying this can be quickly
dispensed with. He makes reference here to Paul Häberlin’s work
on philosophical anthropology (DE#1, I, 66; DIE 75 n. 1).58 But it
is crucial that what he finds in Binswanger is not an anthropology
based on ‘psychological positivism’, but rather one which is situated
‘within the context of an ontological reflection whose major theme is
presence-to-being, existence, Dasein’ (DE#1 I, 66; DIE 31). He clari-
fies that this second kind of anthropology is based on an ‘analytic of
existence’, but this is precisely the kind of work Heidegger did in Being
and Time. While in there the analytic of Dasein is a mode of access to
the deeper question of being, Binswanger is arguably remaining at the
level of Dasein. Being and Time was read as an anthropology, missing
its ontological purpose. Foucault sees Binswanger as pursuing the
related project. Indeed, while Foucault says that he will later finesse
this claim, he suggests that the analysis of Menschsein ‘is nothing but
the actual [effectif] and concrete content which ontology analyses
as the transcendental structure of Dasein, of presence to the world’
(DE#1 I, 66; DIE 32). Note here that Foucault does gloss Dasein as
not simply presence, but presence to the world.
It would be possible to work through every line of this careful and
rich exposition. But the key point for Foucault is to reinforce this
stress on what Binswanger is doing. He says it would be easy to dis-
miss Binswanger’s purpose because it is not what would be expected
as either psychology or as philosophy. But this would ‘ignore the basic
meaning of the project’, which he describes as taking ‘the royal road’
in anthropology, in that sense of an analytic of the human. Foucault
underlines that Binswanger should not be seen as applying existential
philosophy to the ‘“data [données]” of clinical experience’. His work,
Foucault suggests, ‘moves continually back and forth between the
anthropological forms and the ontological conditions of existence’
(DE#1 I, 67; DIE 32). One possibility that Foucault notes would be
that his introduction works systematically through Being and Time,
which would itself have been of considerable interest, both then and
now. As Chapter 5 will discuss in more detail, Heidegger’s work was
only partly translated at this time, and a clear presentation might have
benefited French readers. It would also, today, help to make clear
just what Foucault found in Heidegger. But Foucault says this is not
necessary because we can go straight to the ‘analyses of Binswanger’.
Accordingly, his introduction only intends ‘to write in the margins of
Dream and Existence’ (DE#1 I, 68; DIE 33).
Foucault notes that this piece from 1930 is ‘the first of the texts of
Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker 91
been reading each other and corresponding, with the former’s work
on reverie being important for the latter.75 Verdeaux took Foucault
to meet Bachelard while they were working on the translation.76
This was the beginning of a correspondence between Bachelard and
Foucault, culminating in Bachelard’s praise of Histoire de la folie,
shortly before his death.77
The thoroughness with which Foucault approached his reading
did not extend to his referencing. The introduction and translation
of Binswanger are prefaced by a passage from Char (DE#1 I, 65; DIE
30). Foucault does not provide a reference, but it is section XXII.78
Then, towards the end of the introduction, Foucault quotes Char
four times. The third and fourth times he provides no reference, and
does not even set Char’s words in quotation marks on the third. With
the second, he provides a reference, but it is incorrect: he references
section LV when it should be XVII.79 Only for the first is the reference
correct. For Macey, this was ‘a regular failing on Foucault’s part. . . a
very early instance of the author’s notoriously cavalier attitude to the
use of quotations and references’.80
The section of Char used for the epigraph of the Binswanger essay
is not quoted in full. Foucault abbreviates it by cutting one whole sen-
tence and half of the next, substituting an ellipsis and then beginning a
new sentence with the second half of one of Char’s. He also omits the
short second paragraph of Char’s section. In the History of Madness
some years later, Foucault closes the book’s original preface with the
second paragraph of this same section: ‘Companions in pathos, who
barely murmur, go with your lamp spent and return the jewels. A new
mystery sings in your bones. Cultivate your legitimate strangeness’
(FD1, xi; DE#1 I, 167; HM–/xxxvi).81 In 1961 Foucault does not
even mention Char, much less give a reference. But it is intriguing
that he would close the preface to the History of Madness with the
end of the passage he had used to begin the Binswanger introduction.
The preface to the History of Madness was the last part of the text
he wrote, dated 5 February 1960. Between Easter 1954 and February
1960, then, Char is used to bookend his work on these questions. Put
the two quotations of Char together– a s indeed Foucault did at the
end of the draft manuscript of the Binswanger introduction– a nd you
have the beginning and end of the passage, save for the short ellipsis
in the first quote.82 It is as if the entirety of the work by Foucault in
this period is written into the gap between the two parts of Char’s
passage.
Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker 97
the fête des fous that took place in some Swiss psychiatric hospitals
and I think in certain areas of Germany: the day of the carnival, the
mad disguised themselves and went into town, of course not the ones
who were gravely ill. They acted out a carnival where the population
watched from a distance and with some trepidation, and it was ulti-
mately rather terrible that the only day they were permitted to go out
together en masse was the day they had to disguise themselves and
literally act mad, like how non-mad people act mad. (DE#171 III, 62;
see DE#162 II, 804–5)108
Uppsala seems to have been the break. The only contact after this was
a note from Foucault thanking Binswanger for sending him a copy of
his Erinnerungen an Sigmund Freud in 1956.116
Foucault’s contact with Kuhn seems to have stopped entirely– the
last trace is a postcard sent by Kuhn to Binswanger from Paris, to
which Foucault, Georges and Jacqueline added greetings.117 Kuhn
discovered the anti-depressant properties of the drug Imipramine in
1956, which had initially been proposed as a treatment for schizo-
phrenia. While the drug failed to address the psychotic symptoms,
Kuhn recognized its other effects and was the first to publish results
of its use.118 A critique of unethical testing by Kuhn at this clinic
has recently been published, drawing on the papers in his extensive
archive.119 While this postdates his links to Foucault, the Verdeaux
couple did some testing in Paris for Kuhn and R. Oberholzer of Geigy,
a Swiss pharmaceutical company.120
In 1971, Verdeaux was the lead translator of a collection of
Binswanger’s work, which appeared in the Arguments series edited
by Axelos with Les Éditions de Minuit.121 The 1954 translation of
‘Dream and Existence’ is reprinted in this collection, along with some
of the texts Binswanger had suggested back in 1954.122 Foucault’s
role goes unmentioned: even his notes are now incorporated as either
translator notes or into the glossary. Verdeaux’s later translation
projects seem to be disconnected from the psychological works–
they include writings on theatre, libretto and ethnography. Foucault’s
links to the Verdeaux couple end in the 1960s.
Foucault discussed this work in a wide-ranging interview in 1978.
He is asked about ‘phenomenological anthropology and the attempt
to associate phenomenology and psychoanalysis’. The Binswanger
introduction is the explicit reference, but the remit is wider. Foucault
replies:
The work he did in the clinical setting is clearer in the transcript than
the slightly truncated published version. Foucault goes on to say:
Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker 101
And I believe that [R. D.] Laing was impressed by all that as well; for a
long time he also took existential analysis as a reference (he in a more
Sartrean and I in a more Heideggerian way). But we moved on to other
things. Laing developed a colossal project connected with his work
as a doctor; together with [David] Cooper, he was the real founder
of antipsychiatry, whereas I only did a critical historical analysis. But
existential analysis helped us to delimit and get a better grasp on what
was heavy and oppressive in the gaze and the knowledge apparatus of
academic psychiatry. (DE#281 IV, 58; EW III 257–8)123
than the sum’.141 For Koffka, the point was difference, not excess.
While the projects should not be conflated, there is a resonance. As
Ey stresses, for von Weizsäcker it is not ‘a simple structure in a circle
[structure en cercle] (Kreisgestalt), but a ‘Gestaltkreis’, that is a cycle
of structure [cycle de la structure]’.142 While ‘structure’ as a choice is
not in itself inaccurate, it certainly fails to capture the specific sense
of the German term. Indeed, in the preface to the fourth edition, von
Weizsäcker notes that the term had an aspect and advantage he was
not initially aware of: it does not imply a precise ‘cyclic structure
[Kreisgestalt]’, but something that is not yet achieved. ‘This is the
internal conflict between the perceptible [sensible] image (suggested
by the words ‘structure’ and ‘cycle’), and the concept without figure
which produces the composition of these two words’ (GK 6/19).
The subtitle is also significant– t he book offers a theory that unifies
perception and movement– elements of the psychological and the
physiological. While this is therefore a work developing both psy-
chology and physiology, the literature upon which von Weizsäcker
draws is much wider. The work included in this book is, he says, not
something that can be labelled ‘biology, psychophysics or philosophy
of nature’, but a development of themes in each of these domains in
relation to ‘experimental research, as well as an attempt to base new
pathological and medical research on new foundations’ (GK 17/27).
In his terms, Gestaltkreis connects with biology, medicine and philos-
ophy (GK 22/30).
Von Weizsäcker’s resources include the work of biologists such as
Hans Driesch and von Uexküll. In addition, he draws on concepts
from philosophy, like ‘form, movement, object [Gegenstand], etc.’
and some from ‘philosophy of nature, such as space, time, function’
(GK 21/30). Husserl and Heidegger are also important to his project,
which may explain Foucault’s role in the translation and interest in
the text. Ey thinks it is remarkable that the only French authors men-
tioned are Bergson and Sartre, and suggests that Merleau-Ponty may
have been an inspiration.143 Yet, as von Weizsäcker notes in his 1946
preface to the third edition, some of the key works, including Sartre’s
1943 Being and Nothingness, were published after the first edition
of 1939 (GK 5/34–5). Merleau-Ponty’s The Structure of Behaviour
first appeared in 1942, and Phenomenology of Perception not until
1945. Add the complications of printing and intellectual exchange
during the war, and it makes more sense to imagine a partly shared
intellectual project and references, than straightforward influence.
Yet this does not mean that the approaches are the same. In the third
edition, von Weizsäcker suggests that Sartre’s book fills out what was
only an ‘anticipation’ in his own work, but adds rather cuttingly that
104 Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker
this is ‘with the brilliant and decisive energy available to the philos-
opher who is better protected from the inextricable entanglement of
empirical relations’ (GK 5/34–5).
One of the most important aspects of von Weizsäcker’s work is
that he broadens the psychological sense of Gestalt to encompass
physiological issues, notably movement. He sees perception and
movement as being flexible responses, not fixed, and reworked and
tuned through experience. His focus on movement includes the nerv-
ous system and motor functions. Hence the book’s first theme is
‘movement of living beings [lebender Wesen/êtres vivants] but not
just any bodily or purely imaginary movement in the spatio-temporal
system’ (GK 23/37). The focus is rather on self-movement ‘spontane-
ity or auto-mobility [Spontaneität, die Selbstbewegung/spontanéité,
“auto-mobilité”]’ (GK 23/37). He notes that ‘this implies that we
admit the existence of a subject, of an active being for themselves and
for their own ends’ (GK 23/37). He argues that ‘to study the living
being, we must take part in life’. He is interested in life in its broadest
sense, from birth to death (GK 3/33). ‘Biology’, he says, ‘is science of
forms or typology [Formenkunde]’ (GK 198/170).
His focus requires him to discuss space and time in some detail, as
a way of making sense of the encounter of the living being with their
environment. Indeed, in the book’s only diagram, von Weizsäcker
puts the two in direct relation– O rganismus [O] and Umwelt [U]
(GK 200/171).144
This circle is, von Weizsäcker stresses, closed, a cycle which does
not have an exterior or an entry/exit point. He says that ‘we call the
genesis of the forms of the movement of organisms the Gestaltkreis’,
the term which Foucault and Rocher translate as cycle de la struc-
O U
Der Raum ist weder im Subjekt, noch ist die Welt im Raum. Der Raum
ist vielmehr ‘in’ der Welt; sofern das für das Dasein konstitutive In-der-
Welt-Sein Raum erschlossen hat.
L’espace n’est pas dans le sujet et le monde n’est pas dans l’espace.
L’espace est bien plutôt dans le monde; dans la mesure où l’être dans le
monde, constitutif de la présence, a ouvert l’espace. (GK 287 n. 15/154
n. 1)145
Space is not in the subject, nor is the world in space. Space is rather ‘in’
the world, to the extent that space is disclosed by being-in-the-world,
which is constitutive of Dasein.
Political Controversy
Reading the translation and Ey’s preface would give no indication
of how controversial a figure von Weizsäcker is. Indeed, it is unclear
how much of this Foucault would have been aware of in the 1950s. In
1933, shortly after the Nazi party had gained power, von Weizsäcker
gave a lecture at the University of Freiburg on the invitation of
Heidegger.147 This was shortly after Heidegger had been appointed as
Rector of the University, a political appointment which led to his join-
ing the Nazi party. While von Weizsäcker was not a Nazi member,
and Heidegger interrupted a pro-Nazi speech by a student before the
lecture, the content of the lecture can hardly be used to excuse either
man.148 It was published in 1934 in the Nazi journal Volk im Werden,
and in it, Von Weizsäcker advocated euthanasia and the political
control of medicine.149 This was because he argued that illness could
be a social problem, not caused by the social, but a problem for the
social and therefore of importance beyond the individually sick body.
Given that the nation was an organism, the pathogenic elements may
need to be removed.150
While von Weizsäcker himself was not tried for his actions during
the war, some of his medical research was complicit with the Nazi
regime.151 In the early years he was supportive of the shift from a
social insurance system to forced labour projects. Much more seri-
ously, Gernot Böhme suggests that writings such as this 1933 lecture
develop ‘a mode of thought that could be used to legitimate crimes
against humanity’. Böhme argues that ‘von Weizsäcker never actually
committed such crimes himself, though he shares some responsibility
for at least one’.152 This is by far the most damning charge. The
Institute he directed used the brains of children and young people
murdered at the Loben (now Lubliniec) hospital for research.153 The
hospital was notorious for evaluating paediatric patients, treating
some and poisoning others.
Some of his advocates ignore, or are ignorant of, these abhorrent
actions, which only became widely known since his death.154 One
biographical note simply says that ‘during the Second World War
he devoted all his energy to caring for injured soldiers at the military
hospital in Breslau’;155 another that ‘in 1941 he was appointed, as suc-
cessor of Otfrid Foerster, to the most prestigious chair in Neurology
in Germany at the University in Breslau. In 1945 the Heidelberg
Medical School established a chair in General Clinical Medicine espe-
cially for him’.156 This is the same formulation used in the prospectus
for his Gesammelte Schriften, published by Suhrkamp.157 The Viktor
108 Translating Binswanger and von Weizsäcker
lack his later ‘stylistic flamboyance’.18 In form that may well be true.
But as the analysis so far has suggested, there are multiple themes
which point towards later concerns. Foucault certainly wished to
erase traces of this work from his career trajectory, seeing History
of Madness as his first book, and trying to prevent republication
of Maladie mentale et personnalité (see Chapter 8). Yet the unpub-
lished texts, the lectures, and the publications give a different sense of
Foucault’s breadth and depth, of multiple possible projects, of paths
not taken, as well as many of the themes of Foucault’s later career.
Reading Foucault’s lectures and publications from the first half of the
1950s indicates that the key figures with whom he was in dialogue
were Hegel, Marx and Husserl. This philosophical lineage was set in
relation to a psychological one, where Freud and Binswanger were his
central references. But there is one striking omission from the figures
that he would later call his key inspirations: Nietzsche.19
life before the war, and had included an earlier text challenging his
appropriation by contemporary Nazism.26 Other contributors to the
journal included Wahl, Klossowski and Roger Caillois. Foucault later
recalled reading a critical review of Bataille: ‘What bowled me over
was reading an article that Sartre had written about Bataille before
the war, which I read after the war, which was such a monument of
incomprehension, of injustice and of arrogance, of spite and aggres-
sion, that I was from that moment implacably for Bataille against
Sartre.’27 Despite his dating, Foucault has in mind a piece Sartre pub-
lished in 1943, across three issues of Cahiers du Sud.28 As Bataille’s
translator and biographer Stuart Kendall notes, the ‘language in the
review was both acid and sparkling, humorously dismissive and
ironic, yet fuelled by fuming outrage’.29
Foucault’s friend Pinguet suggests a holiday in Italy in August–
September 1953 was crucial for the encounter with Nietzsche,
recalling Foucault reading the Untimely Meditations when they had
spare moments on the beach at Civitavecchia or at cafés.30 All of
Foucault’s biographers pick up on this indication as being a cru-
cial moment in Foucault’s intellectual development.31 Foucault later
recalled that 1953 was the crucial year (DE#330 IV, 436; EW II,
438), something Veyne also remembers Foucault saying.32 This would
fit with the themes of this period. Summer 1953 is shortly before the
completion of Maladie mentale et personnalité, but before the writing
of the Binswanger introduction. Macey suggests that the absence of
reference to Nietzsche from the book and the two chapters ‘suggests
that Pinguet’s memory is accurate on this point’.33 Yet the Binswanger
introduction dates from after the encounter, and still contains no
references. Indeed, while a compelling story, it is not clear that it is
entirely accurate.
Pinguet mentions that the text Foucault was reading in Italy was a
bilingual edition, which should help to narrow things down, but actu-
ally begins to complicate the account. The four texts that comprise
the Unzeitgemäße Betrachtungen were published between 1873 and
1876.34 The first translation into French was by Henri Albert, who
translated all four in two volumes entitled Considérations inactuelles,
which appeared in 1907 and 1922.35 These were part of the Œuvres
complètes de Frédéric Nietzsche, a series under Albert’s overall direc-
tion. The texts were subsequently retranslated by Geneviève Bianquis
and appeared as Considérations intempestives III et IV in 1954 and
Considérations inactuelles I et II in 1964.36 Both of these volumes are
bilingual, in the series ‘Collection bilingue des classiques allemands’.
There are multiple re-editions, but 1954 and 1964 are the earliest,
with each text even specifying that they were printed in November.
114 Nietzsche and Heidegger
Nietzsche was a revelation to me. I felt that there was someone quite
different from what I had been taught. I read him with great passion
and broke with my life, left my job in the asylum, left France: I felt I
had been trapped. Through Nietzsche, I had become a stranger to all
that. (TS 13; DE#362 IV, 780)
The Gay Science §7: ‘So far, all that gives colour to existence still lacks
a history. Where could you find a history of love, of avarice, of envy,
of conscience, of piety, or of cruelty? Even a comparative history of
law or at least of punishment is so far lacking completely . . .’59 Even
before knowing that Foucault made notes on this text, Macey had
already suggested it as an inspiration.60 Indeed, many of Foucault’s
subsequent projects address these very questions, especially around
cruelty, punishment and sexuality. In his 1971 ‘Nietzsche, Genealogy,
History’ essay, and just before citing a different part of §7, Foucault
had noted that genealogy must seek out its questions ‘in the most
unpromising places, in what we tend to feel is without history– in
sentiments, love, conscience, instincts’ (DE#84 II, 136; EW II, 369).
Yet the notes and manuscripts also validate Foucault’s claim that
his initial engagement with Nietzsche was ‘from the perspective of
enquiry into the history of knowledge– the history of reason: how
does one elaborate a history of rationality?’ (DE#330 IV, 436; EW
II, 438). Foucault is particularly interested in Beyond Good and Evil
§39, where Nietzsche says:
science, a practice, a discourse– is not measured by the truth that sci-
ence, that discourse, that practice may produce. Truth itself forms part
of the history of discourse and is like an effect internal to a discourse or
a practice. (DE#281 IV, 54; EW III, 253)64
Through Heidegger
The archival material shows how deep the engagement with Nietzsche
was at this early time, even if, as Foucault himself says, he published
little, and even that was from a decade or more later. This, Foucault
claimed late in life, is because he felt it ‘important to have a small
number of authors with whom one thinks, with whom one works,
but on whom one does not write’ (DE#354 IV, 703; PPC 250).
The other writer Foucault says he has read but not written about is
Heidegger. Indeed, Foucault is explicit that it was reading these two
thinkers together was crucial for his development.
that the serious engagement began in the 1950s does seem plausible.
Macey has suggested that reading Heidegger in this period ‘was not
the easiest of tasks’ and, despite Sartre, ‘even basic Heideggerian
terminology was unfamiliar’. Macey goes on to provide a list of some
texts by Heidegger available in French, though it is incomplete and
there are some errors with dates.68
Heidegger’s most important work, Sein und Zeit, was published
in 1927, but it took a long time before it was translated into other
European languages. The English Being and Time only appeared
in 1962, and the French was even slower: the first division was not
translated until 1964, and the second not until 1986.69 However,
archival work by Sylvain Camilleri and Daniel Proulx has shown
that Corbin worked on an almost complete translation much earlier,
c.1943–4.70 Camilleri and Proulx append a glossary to their discus-
sion, which shows that Corbin dropped réalité-humain and translated
Dasein as ‘Présence-humaine, Présence tout court, (l’)être-présence,
l’être-Présence’.71
While this translation was not published, some major essays were.
As noted in Chapter 4, ‘What is Metaphysics?’ had been translated
in part in 1931, and in a revised and complete translation in the
Qu’est-ce que la métaphysique? collection compiled by Corbin in
1938, alongside parts of Being and Time and Kant and the Problem
of Metaphysics (1929), and the complete essays ‘The Essence of
Ground’ (1929) and ‘Hölderlin and the Essence of Poetry’ (1936).72
Some of these texts were later reprinted in Questions, the first volume
of what would become a four-volume French edition of Heidegger’s
shorter works. The long 1930 essay ‘On the Essence of Truth’ also
appeared as a short book in French in 1948.73 Walter Biemel and
de Waelhens then translated the Kant book in its entirety in 1953,
with a forty-page introduction.74 The ‘Letter on Humanism’ had first
appeared in part in French in 1947, along with a long introduction by
its recipient, Beaufret.75 It appeared in full in German in 1947, along
with the essay ‘Plato’s Doctrine of Truth’, and then in a bilingual
German–French edition in 1957.76 Most of these pieces first appeared
separately in German and were later collected in Wegmarken.77
Aside from the major absence of Being and Time, French audiences
in 1950 had a reasonably good sample of Heidegger’s work, and
certainly much more than was available in English.78 Foucault’s refer-
ences to Heidegger in early manuscripts indicate a decent knowledge
of these writings. Much of Heidegger’s work was unavailable, but
this was in large part because it was not yet published in German.
Things changed from 1950. The important collections Holzwege
and Vorträge und Aufsätze from 1950 and 1954 brought together
120 Nietzsche and Heidegger
his teaching (see Chapter 1). Indeed, Foucault’s notes on these courses
are filed with ones on Wahl’s reading of Heidegger.83
The French secondary literature was patchy. The work of Sartre,
Merleau-Ponty and Lévinas all shaped the way Heidegger was read,
though little of Lévinas’s work was published at that time, and Sartre
and Merleau-Ponty were developing related ideas rather than explic-
itly writing on him. A key interpreter was Koyré, who reviewed
Heidegger’s ‘What is Metaphysics?’ in La Nouvelle Revue française,
and wrote an introduction to its partial translation for Bifur in 1931.84
Koyré’s biographer Paola Zambelli suggests that the translation was
offered to La Nouvelle Revue française first, but they refused it, with
this review piece in its place.85 Koyré also wrote essays for the first two
issues of Bataille’s journal Critique in 1946, mainly on ‘The Essence
of Truth’, along with a shorter piece for Fontaine that same year.86
As Zambelli reports, ‘the first knowledge of Heidegger in France was
certainly due in large part to Koyré, but the mistrust or hostility. . . is
also owed to him’.87 Indeed, according to Lévinas, Koyré was the first
person to report back on Heidegger’s political allegiance to National
Socialism around 1933, following another visit to Germany.88 There
was also a debate in Les Temps modernes about Heidegger’s politics,
which took place in 1946 and 1947. Although much new information
has come to light since, it is simply untrue that the ‘Heidegger Affair’
only began in the 1980s.
The most comprehensive text in French was de Waelhens’s impor-
tant introductory study from 1942. De Waelhens says that he had
access to notes from some of Heidegger’s students, and that in ‘better
times’ had ‘several conversations with Eugen Fink’.89 Vuillemin sum-
marized some of the German debates in 1951, and had published a
book in 1954 on the post-Kantian tradition of German thought, with
the third part on Heidegger.90 Foucault was also reading the litera-
ture in German: Löwith’s Heidegger: Denker in Dürftiger Zeit seems
to have been especially important, particularly for Foucault’s initial
reading of Heidegger, as it responds to the lectures on Nietzsche.91
In terms of Heidegger’s reception in France after the Second World
War, Beaufret was a crucial figure.92 This was in his writing, teach-
ing and through the ‘Letter on Humanism’ and its introduction, as
discussed in Chapter 1, but also through his role in organizing a
conference with Heidegger at Cerisy-la-Salle in Normandy in August
1955.93 This was Heidegger’s first visit to France, which seems
strange, given that he was born in Meßkirch and spent the bulk of
his career in the city of Freiburg. As Dennis Schmidt remarks, ‘Given
that one can easily ride a bicycle from Freiburg to France, this is quite
astonishing.’94 Today that is indeed true– F reiburg is only about
122 Nietzsche and Heidegger
fifteen miles from the border. Yet Heidegger was born in 1889 and
at that time France was much further away, as the Alsace-Lorraine
region had been part of the German empire since 1871. After the
Treaty of Versailles in 1919 it returned to France, but was obviously
a highly disputed area. It was invaded by Hitler in 1940, and liberated
in 1944.
The event at Cerisy-la-Salle had been co-organized by Beaufret
with Maurice de Gandillac, professor of philosophy at the Sorbonne.
Axelos was commissioned to translate Heidegger’s opening lecture,
‘What is Philosophy?’, along with Beaufret. Heidegger read the lec-
ture on the first day, 28 August, followed by Beaufret reading the
translation, and on subsequent days they had discussions of texts by
Kant, Hegel and Hölderlin, and questions and debate.95 Heidegger
refused to speak French, even though he had at least a passive under-
standing of the language, and so all the discussions were mediated
through Beaufret and, especially, Axelos, who served as interpreter.96
Important French thinkers such as Deleuze, Ricœur, Lucien Goldmann
and Gabriel Marcel attended, but Sartre, Lévinas, Merleau-Ponty and
Wahl all refused invitations. Wahl’s refusal is probably indicative of
the reasons for the others. He did not go to Cerisy because Heidegger
was a Nazi, but he still taught his work because he was a great
philosopher.97
Hyppolite had apparently also wanted to invite Heidegger to the
ENS, but feared protests from leftist students.98 It was during this
trip to France that Heidegger and his wife also spent some time
with Lacan, Georges Braque and René Char, all mediated through
Axelos’s interpretation.99 The encounter with Lacan, in particular,
was a failure– Axelos recalls that Heidegger had no interest in Lacan’s
work, while Lacan’s knowledge of Heidegger was ‘very, very incom-
plete [lacunairement]’.100 A recording was made of the Cerisy-la-Salle
event, and Derrida recalls listening to it in Paris during his student
days.101 Foucault had left for Sweden before the event took place,
and there is no record of his having listened to the discussions.102
Heidegger’s lecture was first published in French in 1957.103 Yet,
even after he was based in Uppsala, Foucault’s engagement contin-
ued. Pinguet recalls attending a lecture in Paris by Beda Allemann
on Heidegger and Hölderlin with Foucault in 1956 or 1957, which
Wahl also attended.104 However Pinguet stresses that Foucault ‘defied
intellectual fashions and no more joined the Heideggerian church
[chapelle] than that of the Lacanians’.105
Yet Heidegger was important to Foucault, in part because he
offered a way of reading other thinkers. As Defert, Ewald and Gros
suggest, Foucault was reading Kant through Nietzsche from 1952
Nietzsche and Heidegger 123
and, ‘from 1953, Kant and Nietzsche through Heidegger’.106 But the
trajectory from the course on philosophical anthropology through to
the translation of Kant’s Anthropology suggests that he was reading
first Kant, and then a little later Nietzsche, and ultimately both of
them through and against Heidegger. What Foucault, following Kant,
identifies as the question of anthropology is at root the question ‘what
is man?’ That was the topic of the famous dispute in Davos between
Heidegger and Cassirer, which focused in large part on their different
readings of Kant.107 Heidegger apparently turned his lectures into his
book on Kant in an intense three-week burst immediately after the
Davos meeting.108 The question becomes, for Heidegger, the problem
of humanism; for Foucault the invention of ‘man’ in The Order of
Things. This is a theme that will be picked up in the discussion of
Foucault’s Kant thesis in Chapter 7. For the later Foucault it becomes
a concern with subjectivity.
Jean Barraqué
Nietzsche was an important part of the intellectual side of the rela-
tionship Foucault had with the modernist composer Jean Barraqué.109
While Foucault is more commonly associated with literature and the
visual arts, he also had links to the world of modernist music, dating
back to his student days. He had met Pierre Boulez in 1951 but did
not stay in touch with him and they only had contact again in the
1970s. Foucault was close to Gilbert Humbert, a student of Olivier
Messiaen (C 16/16), knew the film composer Louis Saguer,110 and
Michel Fano, a friend of Boulez, who wrote a piece for the first issue
of Boulez’s journal Domaine musical, and scored several of Robbe-
Grillet’s films.111 But the most significant contact was with Barraqué,
who had also been a student of Messiaen at the Conservatoire,
and later was mentored by him at the CNRS.112 Defert recalls that
Foucault had attended some of Messiaen’s classes with Barraqué
(FMT 219/217). Barraqué admired Schubert and Webern, but his
most significant influences were Debussy and Beethoven.113 He wrote
extensive studies of both: a book on Debussy, and unpublished work
on Beethoven, notably a study of the Fifth Symphony.114 In time he
would come to appreciate Wagner.115
Foucault and Barraqué met in 1952, but the relationship ended
badly in the winter of 1955–6, shortly after Foucault’s move to
Uppsala. Defert reports that when Barraqué died in 1973, at the age
of just forty-five, Foucault had only seen him once since the 1950s
(C 44/54).116 The personal side of their relationship has been explored
124 Nietzsche and Heidegger
Between August 1955 and October 1958, Foucault lived and worked
in Uppsala, Sweden. He had two roles. One was heading the cultural
activities of the Alliance française, housed in the Maison de France on
the fifth floor of a building at 22 St Johannesgaten (now renumbered
to 5). He was also a university lecturer in the French language in the
Department of Romance Languages at Uppsala University.1 Foucault
got the position in Uppsala on the recommendation of Georges
Dumézil, who was asked to suggest someone for a post he had held
himself from 1931–3. Dumézil recalls that he did not know anyone
from that generation, and so he asked Raoul Curiel, an archaeologist,
for a suggestion. Curiel suggested Foucault, as ‘the most intelligent
person that he had ever known’.2 Dumézil wrote to Foucault on 15
October 1954 explaining the role:
but not the text for Des chercheurs français, nor the text Psychiatrie
et analyse existentielle, which he had claimed the previous year to be
his secondary thesis (see Chapter 2). Instead, and this is the second
reason, it lists two different theses:
Foucault would have been well placed to write both of these theses,
given his work in Lille and Paris. Sabot has plausibly suggested that the
manuscript ‘Phénoménologie et psychologie’, discussed in Chapter 2,
is a draft of the first.5 The second seems more related to the research
work he was doing with Georges and Jacqueline Verdeaux. But he
would complete neither project. This does not seem to be a foregone
conclusion, as he had checked with Dumézil before accepting this
post that the work there would not prevent him completing a thesis
which was ‘now quite advanced’.6 A letter from Uppsala to Barraqué
also indicates a plan to finish it and return to France.7 But instead his
teaching and research developed in wholly new directions.
With Foucault’s CV in hand, Dumézil made the introduction to
Uppsala, and Foucault took up the post on 1 July 1955. It was
a two-year position, which could be renewed two or exceptionally
three times.8 Foucault’s post was renewed in spring 1957. Although
correspondence suggests they met in Paris, Dumézil later recalled that
their first encounter was when he finished teaching at the Collège de
France in 1956 and visited Uppsala.9 There was a ritual parade of
their formal qualifications and, establishing beyond doubt that he
was the senior, Dumézil proposed that they use the familiar ‘tu’.10
Dumézil was 28 years older than Foucault, and this was the beginning
of a long friendship, only brought to an end with Foucault’s death.
Foucault often addressed him as ‘dear father’ in his letters.11 Dumézil
says that he read Foucault’s books, and that they did talk about each
other’s work in their regular meetings but, despite Eribon’s urging,
adds little about the nature of their discussions.12 Dumézil did reveal
that he played a role in Foucault’s election to the Collège de France
some years later, noting that he petitioned colleagues with the admo-
nition: ‘Careful, don’t let genius slip away.’13
Foucault was described by one of his Uppsala colleagues, the
docent Göran Hammarström, as ‘a typical French intellectual’.14 He
taught a range of courses in Uppsala, though these were restricted to
128 Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw
dealt with. However, the admiration probably did not mean much
to him since he did not appear to be lacking in self-confidence’.43
With the exception of a few notes on Antoine and Théâtre Libre,
nothing seems to remain of the lectures themselves, or indeed any of
Foucault’s teaching from this period.44
One text that does survive was for a different purpose. On 25
June 1957 Foucault contributed to a broadcast on Sender Freies
Berlin [Radio Free Berlin]. A series on ‘Problems and Performances of
Modern French Science’ was organized by the classicist Jean Bollack,
then teaching at the Freie Universität Berlin, and other contributors
included Lévi-Strauss, Ricœur, Kostas Axelos, the physicist Jean-Loup
Delcroix, the physiologist Théophile Cahn, the geographer Marcel
Roncayolo, and the economist Alfred Sauvy.45 Foucault’s focus was
on anthropology, and his text was written in French, translated into
German and read by the transmission’s producer.46 The German text
is preserved in the archives of Bollack.47
Foucault began with a discussion of the lineage of the term anthro-
pology, drawing on his teaching work back in France earlier in the
decade. He noted that the term meant science of man, and while he
discussed some earlier understandings, and the work of Durkheim
and Mauss, his main examples in the lecture were Pierre Teilhard de
Chardin and Lévi-Strauss’s work on kinship and the incest taboo.
Teilhard was a curious figure, a Jesuit priest and philosopher who
trained as both a palaeontologist and geologist, whose book The
Phenomenon of Man had appeared, shortly after his death, in 1955.48
While Foucault’s lecture was for a general audience, and much was
descriptive of others’ work, it also gives a little insight into his own
thinking. He suggested that ‘from the beginning humanity is doomed
to meaning’, with an existence besieged by an ‘uncanny hyperbole
of constantly replicated signs that constantly function as symbols
in relation to one another, of such signs that mutually observe each
other furtively and reply to one another in a language with the same
vocabulary as the silence of the nights’.49
In the conclusion he briefly mentioned Bachelard’s work on the
elements, and made the suggestion that: ‘Georges Dumézil recreates
the grand architecture of Indo-European myths and has therefore
developed an œuvre whose contribution to anthropology is much
more considerable than Merleau-Ponty’s speculations on the physiol-
ogy and psychology of the reflex.’50 This appears to be the first time
Foucault mentioned Dumézil’s work.51 Given the earlier importance
of Merleau-Ponty, it also signals a break from the work he had con-
ducted in the first half of the 1950s.
Foucault was also working on what was to become the History of
132 Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw
Madness. Dumézil recalls that the most significant thing he did for
Foucault in bringing him to Uppsala was to give him access to the
‘incomparable library, the Carolina Rediviva’. Uppsala is the oldest
university in the Nordic countries, established by papal bull in 1477.
The collection of the Carolina Rediviva is extensive and Dumézil
particularly indicates ‘a very rich collection of medical books from
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries’.52 This is the ‘Bibliotheca
Walleriana’, bequeathed by Dr Erik Waller, a surgeon, who between
1940 and 1946 was the librarian at the Swedish Society of Medicine.
Between 1910 and 1950 he amassed an enormous private collec-
tion of material including medieval codices, the early printed books
known as incunabula, alba amicorum (friendship books), and manu-
scripts. The main collection comprised over 20,000 books and while
wide ranging in the history of science, its principal focus is medicine.
Uppsala librarian Tönnes Kleberg claimed that ‘it comprises prac-
tically all major works published in the realm of medicine before
1800, as well as a highly representative selection of later literature
on the subject’.53 In 1950 it was donated to the Carolina Rediviva
library, along with Waller’s similarly extensive collections of original
manuscripts and letters written by doctors and scientists, offprints of
articles, and a medal collection.54 Waller died in January 1955.
The catalogue of this collection was published a few months later
in November 1955, shortly after Foucault arrived. The catalogue is
not a mere typed inventory or card index, but a two-volume book
extending to almost a thousand pages and including several plates.55
In 1980, when asked to substantiate his sources for his treatment
of the idea of the ship of fools, Foucault replied to say that it was
not easy to do so, because ‘the documentation which I have utilized
for L’Histoire de la folie comes in large part from the library in
Uppsala and it is very difficult to find these references in Paris’.56
Eribon describes the collection as a ‘veritable mine’ for Foucault
and its catalogue as ‘a stroke of luck’.57 Macey too says the Uppsala
library is probably the ‘single place of birth’ for the book, although
he suggests that much of the research was done in Paris,58 presumably
during the summers and term breaks when Foucault left Uppsala.
Comparing the bibliography of the book and the catalogue of the
collection pushes Macey’s point further. There are 247 references
given by Foucault, less than a fifth of which are in the Bibliotheca
Walleriana.59 But only about half of those are the exact same edition,
Foucault often using a later reprint or a translation when Waller had
the original. In total Foucault references only about a quarter of one
per cent of the collection.60
Much of the book was certainly drafted in Sweden though, and
Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw 133
Every day at ten, after having worked for an hour with one of his secre-
taries, Jean-Christophe or Dani, he left for the Carolina. He remained
in the library until three or four in the afternoon, writing pages and
pages, and at night he kept right on writing. Always to music. Not
an evening went by that he did not listen to the Goldberg Variations.
Music for him meant Bach or Mozart. He wrote and rewrote, copying
his pages out neatly, endlessly reworking them: on the left a pile of
papers to do over, on the right the growing pile of revised pages.62
She was convinced that work and, more specifically, writing would have
a quasi-therapeutic effect, and would help to counteract his recurrent
depression. To that end, she introduced Foucault to Colette Duhamel,
an old schoolfriend of hers and now an editor at La Table Ronde, the
small, independent publishing house run by Roland Laudenbach.65
It is clear that this latter point caused difficulties. There too, I was
wrong in not defining my project, which is not to write a history of the
developments of psychiatric science, but rather a history of the social,
moral, and imaginary context in which it developed.
But it seems to me that up until the nineteenth century, not to say
up to now, there has been no objective knowledge [savoir] of madness,
but only the formulation, in terms of scientific analogy, of a certain
experience (moral, social, etc.) of Unreason. Hence this very unobjec-
tive, unscientific, unhistorical method of dealing with the question. But
perhaps this undertaking is absurd and doomed in advance.78
Warsaw
Following his disappointment in Uppsala with Lindroth, and his
general unhappiness with the country, Foucault consulted Dumézil.
Since recommending him to Uppsala, Dumézil had remained close
to Foucault and took a genuine interest in his work.91 Dumézil read
some parts of the draft manuscript and understood the Swedish
reservations. He suggested that Foucault submit in France, as did
Foucault’s colleague Bengt Hasselrot.92
Foucault left Uppsala in October 1958 with the basic research nearly
complete.93 But the manuscript needed comprehensive rewriting, and
its final form did not come until his next cultural posting in Warsaw
(C 22/23). Dumézil had again been important in getting Foucault this
post. His recommendation to his former colleague Philippe Rebeyrol
at the Ministry of Europe and Foreign Affairs on the Quai d’Orsay,
along with strong references from Uppsala, was deemed sufficient to
appoint Foucault to a new role at the University, directing the Centre
de civilisation française.94 Foucault later recalls that 1958–9 was the
decisive period for the book’s writing, rather than its research.95
Warsaw had still not recovered from its wartime destruction, and
the country was undergoing a major change. Władysław Gomułka
had been released from prison and was back in power, developing a
post-Stalinist communism. In November 1958, Foucault wrote to a
friend that the situation was like that of Alfred Jarry’s play Ubu Roi,
‘set in Poland, that is nowhere’, that it was like being in a ‘prison’, or
rather being outside one, unable to get in, and that he had been placed
in a ‘socialist palace’. He added that ‘I am working on my “Madness”
which is in danger, in this outpouring of insanity, of becoming a little
more like what it always pretended to be.’96 That same month he also
wrote to Dumézil complaining about the long hours that he was putting
into the revision, and the challenges of writing in a room at the Hotel
Bristol. Frequent power cuts meant that much of the writing was done
by candlelight. ‘Everything is simply terrifying here: poverty, filth, rude-
ness, disorder, neglect. And such a loneliness as I thought impossible.’97
This period has recently been the subject of Remigiusz Ryziński’s
2017 book Foucault w Warszawie [Foucault in Warsaw].98 Some
140 Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw
Foucault was aware of this but he ignored it. Defert said Foucault often
remembered this as a fascinating absurdity of the system. He knew he
was followed, his friends were warning him not to trust the hotel staff
or waiters. It seems Foucault was ignoring these warnings, he was not
afraid and that he even put himself out there on purpose. He was not
hiding who he was, but sharing everything openly.118
Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw 143
History of Madness
The History of Madness is a book that is almost impossible to sum-
marize.122 Foucault does a remarkable job in Mental Illness and
Psychology in 1962, which will be discussed in Chapter 8. Essentially,
Foucault treats the question of madness in three main historical
periods. The first, and most brief, is the European Renaissance, in
which madness had elements of freedom, both in the social life of the
mad and in literary and artistic expression. The mad often wandered
between towns, sometimes represented by the idea of a ‘ship of fools’.
Treatment of the mad was erratic: there was no overall model, and
while they were sometimes hospitalized, they were also expelled, or
simply tolerated within society.
But this began to change in the seventeenth century, when the mad
were increasingly incarcerated. This was often in the old leprosaria
that had lost their previous purpose, and had then held the venereally
diseased in a ‘moral space of exclusion’ (HM 18/8). At the same
time, there were shifts in philosophical and literary treatment of the
mad, where the advent of the age of reason marginalized unreason.
Foucault calls this the Classical Age, of which the founding of the
Hôpital Général in 1656 and Descartes’s Meditations in 1641 are two
symptomatic events. ‘Madness was excluded, leaving no trace, no scar
on the surface of thought’ (HM 156/138). The mad were not the only
ones incarcerated, and in his discussion of the ‘Great Confinement’
and the ‘Correctional World’ Foucault anticipates many of the themes
144 Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw
of his later work as he indicates that ‘the venereal, the debauched, the
dissolute, homosexuals, blasphemers, alchemists and libertines’ (HM
116/101, see 124/108), were the initial people incarcerated, later to
be replaced with the mad, criminals, the poor, vagabonds and the
unemployed. These unruly elements disrupted the workings of bour-
geois society, ‘the ordering of social space’ (HM 74/62).
Foucault underscores that ‘confinement did not simply play the
negative role of exclusion, but also the positive role of organization.
Its practices and regulations constituted a domain of experience that
had unity, coherence and function’ (HM 96/82). There is also a muted
political economy to the analysis, one which is perhaps underplayed
in readings of the book (HM 82/68–9). Foucault provides a range
of examples to illustrate his themes. Some of these perhaps build on
the teaching he did outside of France in the years he was writing it.
The reading of Racine’s Andromaque, for example, may well have
originated in teaching that play to students in Uppsala (HM 263–
7/245–9).123 Foucault provides some quite detailed discussions of the
relation between madness and medicine in this period, anticipating
some of themes of his next major book Birth of the Clinic.
Part of the shift from the classical age comes from what Foucault
calls ‘the great fear’, which emerged in the mid eighteenth century.
As Foucault suggests: ‘It was a fear formulated in medical terms, but
deep down it was animated by a whole moral myth’ (HM 375/355).
It was supposed to be a contagion that could spread from houses of
confinement, a prison fever, spread perhaps by the transportation of
convicts or by chain gangs. Diseases were circulating, bringing the
themes of the book back to its beginning: ‘Houses of confinement
were no longer simply the lazar house on the edges of towns, but
became themselves a form of leprosy that scarred the face of the city’
(HM 375/355). The reform movement that followed was not to get
rid of the houses of confinement, but rather to try to provide them as
a source of disease, or evil– two senses of the French word mal (HM
377–9/357–9). The idea of ventilation appears in medical literature at
this time, not just in relation to the question of contagion, but more
in terms of the question of ‘moral communication’ (HM 379/359).
In the final parts of the book Foucault turns to the late eighteenth
century and the supposed liberation of the mad. Indeed, in the orig-
inal preface Foucault suggests the founding of the Hôpital Général
and the breaking of the chains at Bicêtre in 1794 as indicative dates
to bookend the narrative (FD1, viii; DE#4 I, 165; HM–/xxxiii). The
latter is the (perhaps apocryphal) liberation by Pinel, and Foucault’s
other key example is the idealized building of the York Retreat by the
Tuke family.124 This was the supposedly more humane treatment of
Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw 145
the mentally ill. There are differences between Tuke and Pinel, espe-
cially around the role of religion (HM 511/491), but Foucault’s point
in this key chapter is to disrupt the way they are usually read. He
notes that there is a different kind of incarceration taking place here,
one that is internal and moral, rather than external and physical (i.e.
HM 502/482, 507/487). Instead of their work just opening up the
asylum to medical knowledge, it was the powers that accompanied
the knowledge that Foucault wants to stress, ‘an order that was moral
and social’ (HM 525/505).
No matter how much contemporary psychiatry and psychoanalysis
try to reinvent themselves as sciences and disavow their historical
roots, their work retains a lineage to earlier approaches. ‘Madness
was to be punished in asylums, even if its innocence was proclaimed
outside. For a long time to come, and at least until our days, it
was imprisoned in a moral world’ (HM 523/503). Yet at the same
time, the shift to the asylum in the modern age is the beginning of
a distinctive approach to mental illness, rather than seeing it as one
disease among others (HM 189/171).Interestingly, Foucault sees the
emergence of a new voice of madness as speaking in ‘an anthropo-
logical language’ (HM 535/516). While in the Renaissance madness
had appeared in artistic works, and in the classical age madness had
been silenced, now the earlier, raw experience of madness again finds
itself expressed in some forms of art (HM 535/516, 537/518). In the
final pages of the book Foucault discusses figures such as Friedrich
Hölderlin, Vincent van Gogh, Gérard de Nerval, Nietzsche, Roussel
and Antonin Artaud. And the book closes with some enigmatic com-
ments on the relation between an artistic œuvre and madness:
Ruse and new triumph of madness. The world that believes that mad-
ness can be measured, and justified by means of psychology, and yet
it must justify itself when confronted by madness, for its efforts and
agonies have to measure up to the excess [démesure] of the œuvres of
men like Nietzsche, Van Gogh and Artaud. And nothing in itself, and
above all nothing that it can know of madness, serves to shows that
these œuvres of madness justify it. (HM 557/538).
There are many other elements in the book, which repays rereading
and consideration in relation to the themes of Foucault’s later writing
as well as the work that came before. Foucault stresses that Pinel
and Tuke are ‘not a destination’, and that his book is not concluding
with the discussion of artistic figures (HM 531/512). Indeed, the
book opens up multiple paths which Foucault would later explore
in detail.125 The discussion of hospitals and medicine links directly
to Birth of the Clinic; the discussion of literature and art continues
146 Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw
through many of his other writings of the 1960s; the theme of the
organization of thought is developed in The Order of Things; and the
historical approach employed here is consolidated in The Archaeology
of Knowledge. A concern with incarceration and a disciplined society,
and the few comments on sexuality, lead to themes of the 1970s and
beyond. Foucault took a lot of notes, seemingly from this period, on
sodomy, homosexuality and hermaphrodites.126 These themes were
perhaps intended for a future volume at the time, but reappear in his
work many years later, as he pursued the project on the history of
sexuality.
It is a book that ranges widely across historical and literary sources,
makes some use of the Uppsala collection, but much more of the
riches of Paris’s libraries, and showcases Foucault’s breadth, even if
not always his care. Indeed, Macey has suggested that ‘the display of
erudition is one of its best defences’, in that his use of archival mate-
rial and obscure sources makes it hard to criticize him. So too does
his range, with few readers who could challenge him on Paracelsus,
Sade and Artaud.127 But as Macey goes on to add, the reading of Sade
owes much to Blanchot and the references to both Sade and Molière
are incorrect.128
The distance from the work he had done in the early 1950s is
profound. Neither Kuhn nor Binswanger are mentioned in the book,
and Foucault has clearly moved some distance from his interest in
Daseinsanalysis, phenomenology and psychology. But traces of that
earlier experience can be found here– it is hard not to glimpse the
Swiss asylums in Münsterlingen and Kreuzlingen behind the descrip-
tions of the supposed liberations of Tuke and Pinel. Similarly, while
they are not mentioned, the experience Foucault gained working with
the Verdeaux couple at Sainte-Anne and Fresnes arguably lies behind
some of its discussions of the relation between illness, treatment and
evaluation. It is also likely to have informed his claims about the
absence of the voice of the mad from psychology. Malebranche is
briefly mentioned in just a few places, more as a contrast to Descartes
than as a key reference in himself (HM 195/177, 247–8/229, 262
n.2/619 n. 76).
More recent theoretical influences are entirely absent in explicit
form– Husserl, Heidegger, Bataille are unmentioned; Dumézil only
in the preface; Nietzsche largely as a man who himself went mad. The
knowledge deployed in the book comes from an extensive reading of
a diverse literature, in part for his early publications and the teaching
he did at Lille and the ENS, and intensely in the years that followed.
Given the historical work he had now done, the claims made in
Maladie mentale et personnalité, and Foucault’s hopes for a different
Madness– Uppsala to Warsaw 147
We need a history of that other trick of madness– of that other trick
through which men, in the gesture of sovereign reason that locks up
their neighbour, communicate and recognize each other in the merci-
less language of non-madness; we need to identify the moment of that
expulsion, before it was definitely established in the reign of truth,
before it was brought back to life by the lyricism of protestation. To
try to recapture, in history, this degree zero of the history of madness,
when it was undifferentiated experience, the still undivided experi-
ence of the division itself. To describe, from the origin its curve, that
‘other trick’ which, on either side of its movement, allows Reason and
Madness to fall away, like things henceforth foreign to each other,
deaf to any exchange, almost dead to each other. (FD1 i; DE#4 I, 159;
HM–/xxvii)
Gilbert Kahn on the Chartres cathedral and the Loire chateaux, Pierre
Gascar on Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, and Pierre Savi on medieval
stained-glass windows.26
Robbe-Grillet was also invited by Foucault to give a lecture on
‘Towards a new Realism’ on 20 November 1959.27 The visit to
Hamburg is very briefly recalled in his memoirs. An unnamed consul
general mistakes Robbe-Grillet’s wife for his daughter, but Foucault
is unmentioned.28 Many years later Foucault recalled that he also
took Robbe-Grillet to the fairground and the ‘maze of mirrors [le
labyrinth de glace]’, that is the Spiegel-Irrgarten in Hamburg, noting
that this featured as the ‘starting point’ of Robbe-Grillet’s novel Dans
le labyrinthe (DE#343 IV, 600; DL–/172). Given that the novel was
published in October 1959, shortly before the visit, this is undoubt-
edly a coincidence rather than a cause.29 The editors of Dits et écrits
note that Robbe-Grillet subsequently sent a dedicated copy of that
book to Foucault as a token of thanks; surely the reason for the
misrecollection.30 In any case it would be more accurate to describe
the labyrinth as a structuring device for the novel;31 as it was in
Foucault’s own study of Roussel.
Foucault also befriended local intellectuals, including his colleagues
Jean-Marie Zemb and Kahn, and the author and screenwriter Rolf
Italiaander.32 Zemb would return to France in 1961 and was elected
to the Collège de France in 1986. Some of the engravings made by
Italiaander’s Congolese students were displayed at the Institut français
when Italiaander gave a lecture on African art.33 A Christmas 1960
letter from Foucault to Italiaander was published in 1963; Italiaander
wrote a tribute to Foucault after his death.34 Most significantly, Defert
claims that Italiaander helped with the Kant translation.35
Even though homosexuality was illegal in West Germany, Foucault
had a much more open life. Gascar wrote a piece about his visit,
from Foucault meeting him at the station to a visit to the Kunsthalle
museum, and a tour of the red-light district of the Reeperbahn in
Saint Pauli. This was apparently a common trip for his French visi-
tors, as he led his guests to strip-clubs, gay cafés and drag-bars, where
he was known as ‘Herr Doktor’, despite not yet having submitted his
thesis.36 Italiaander, who was also gay, gave Foucault a lot of insider
advice about the Saint Pauli area, which they explored together.37
He suggests that Foucault gave him new insight into the place, and
suggests it was a missed opportunity for the city not to commission
him to write an analysis of the area.38 Yet, even on their first meeting,
Foucault had received guests at the Institut for a glass of wine, served
by ‘an attractive young girl’ from Hamburg who was clearly close to
him. As Foucault confided later that evening: ‘My girlfriend is not
152 Hamburg, Kant
Situating Kant
Given that Foucault was required to write a secondary thesis, it is
intriguing that he chose to return to Kant and anthropology, on
which he had lectured some years before in Lille and Paris. Given
his preoccupations of the later 1950s, a project on Heidegger or
Nietzsche, or even on Roussel, might have seemed more in keeping
with his interests. Yet, perhaps Foucault wanted to demonstrate his
philosophical standing in a more traditional way than the History of
Madness. For many years, Foucault’s translation was the main French
edition, though there was an earlier out-of-print translation, and
there are now two others.40 The first complete English translation was
by Mary Gregor in 1974,41 and there are other translations, of which
I have used the one by Robert B. Louden for comparative purposes.
When Foucault’s translation was published in 1964, it was without
the long introduction, and simply appeared with a short three and
a half page ‘Notice historique’.42 As the title suggests, Foucault is
concerned with the provenance of Kant’s text. With a few minor
exceptions, the ‘Notice historique’ is taken from the initial pages of
his longer introduction. The introduction was only published after
Foucault’s death, although it had long been available to researchers.
Kant lectured on physical geography for forty years, and the lectures
on anthropology developed from this work and then were delivered as
a separate course over three decades. From 1772, geography was the
focus in the summer semester; anthropology in the winter. Towards
the end of his life, Kant edited the anthropology lectures into a book
published in 1798; the geography lectures were compiled by others.43
Foucault says that we ‘know nothing, or virtually nothing, about the
different versions of the text that existed prior to the final draft’. He
indicates that some of the student notes from Kant’s lectures were
published but that they cannot be ‘relied upon’, because ‘it is hard
to have confidence in notes that were published thirty-five years after
Kant’s death’ (IKA 12/18).44 For his editorial work, Foucault used
both the Akademie Ausgabe, as well as the eleven-volume Cassirer
edition of Kant’s works, which he bought in Germany.45 Foucault
translated the second edition of the Anthropologie, published in
1800, which is the version in volume VII of the Akademie Ausgabe
and the basis for other modern translations. The changes between the
Hamburg, Kant 153
first and second editions are relatively minor, and Louden suggests
that Christian Gottfried Schütz probably did the editing. Kant’s hand-
written manuscript of the Anthropologie survives, uniquely among
his published books. It is also not clear that the changes between the
published text and the manuscript were made by Kant.46
The manuscript is in the library of the University of Rostock,
and Foucault indicates issues where the manuscript and published
text differ (IKA 12/18; 16–17/26–7; 22/36; 23/38; 31/49). Foucault
also provides a number of ‘Variantes’ as an appendix to his trans-
lation (APPV–/263–7), which are based on the printed version in
the Akademie Ausgabe. The idea that Foucault consulted the manu-
script itself is intriguing, but it is unlikely he actually did.47 Although
Hamburg and Rostock are only about one hundred miles apart, and
there is today a direct trainline between them, at the time Foucault
did this work Rostock was in the German Democratic Republic,
separated by the Inner German Border, and it is not certain he could
have made that trip. He would have faced considerable travel, accom-
modation and itinerary difficulties, as well as any in accessing the
manuscript itself. Foucault’s remaining notes from this period, some
on Institut Français notepaper, indicate work with various sources,
but not manuscripts.48
Foucault spends most of the ‘Notice historique’ discussing the way
the Anthropologie was based on the 1790–1 course, and the relation
it has to other parts of Kant’s work– the three Critiques of course,
but also the Reflexionen zur Anthropologie and the lecture notes he
used, collected in Volume XV of the Akademie Ausgabe, published
in 1913 (IKA 13–14/20–1; DE#19 I, 289–90).49 He is also focused on
the process of the text’s editing (IKA 15–17/23–7; DE#19 I, 290–2),
and thinks the compilation of the text can be precisely dated to the
‘first half of 1797– perhaps in the first three or four months’ (IKA
17/27; DE#19 I, 292).
In his longer introduction, Foucault speaks of the ‘layers that give
its geology depth’ and ‘the archaeology of the text’, though cautions
both are difficult on the basis of available evidence (IKA 12–13/19).
Foucault also talks of ‘the archaeology of a term’ (IKA 71/112). This
is a theme Kant himself had perhaps hinted at with the notion of
‘an archaeology [Archäologie/archéologie] of nature’ (APPV 193).
Foucault therefore outlines two registers through which the text
should be analysed: genetic and structural. Genetically, the work
needed to be understood in relation to its development, as the text
we have is ‘weighed down with sedimentation, having closed over
the past in which it took shape’ (IKA 12/19). Structurally it needed
to be situated within Kant’s work as a whole, both in terms of its
154 Hamburg, Kant
What we know of the lectures has changed since the time Foucault
wrote his introduction, since all the extant student notes from the
lectures have been edited as volume XXV of the Akademie Ausgabe.51
Translating Kant
There are many interesting things about Foucault’s translation. Some
of his choices are unproblematic, including Tugend as vertu, virtue
(APPV 147, 151, 295, 307), or Lebenskraft as force vitale, vital force
(APPV 167). The complicated term Geschlecht, to which Derrida
would later pay so much attention for its polysemy, is here straight-
forwardly translated as sexe (APPV 303). Dasein, so important in
his translation of Binswanger, is just the simple existence (i.e. APPV
131, 135). Other choices are perhaps products of his time compared
to more modern translations. For instance, he translates Mensch as
Hamburg, Kant 155
says that ‘In the French language Geist and Witz bear one name,
Esprit. In German it is different’ (APPV 225). This is important for
three reasons: because Kant suggests esprit is the translation of Geist;
because he recognizes the challenge of working between languages;
and because of the relation Geist and Witz – wit, joke, humour–
have in French but not in German. When Kant does discuss Witz
directly (i.e. APPV 204, 220), Foucault again choses esprit to render
the German word. This means that when esprit appears in the trans
lation, it could mean any of three German terms.
The other difficulty with rendering Gemüt as esprit is more
interesting for Foucault’s wider concerns at the time. Kant uses
Gemütskrankheit and related words such as Gemütstörung and
Gemütsverstimmung for what we would now call mental illness,
derangement or discord. Instead of the term maladie mentale, which
Foucault used in his 1954 book and its 1962 revision, he chooses
to keep the Gemüt–esprit relation, which leads to the odd-sounding
maladie de l’esprit and perturbation de l’esprit (APPV 161, 202, 216)
or maladie de l’âme (APPV 203). In the introduction, Foucault dis-
cusses Gemütsschwäche and Gemütskrankheit, which he renders as
‘déficiences de l’esprit. . . et de ses maladies’, deficiencies and illnesses
of esprit (IKA 18/30). Kant does occasionally use the idea of an illness
of the soul, Seele, which Foucault renders with the equivalent âme
(APPV 161, 216, 286), but he also uses that French word on at least
two occasions to translate Gemüt, the latter of which is concerned
with illness (APPV 139, 251). Seelenforschern, for which the sense is
surely ‘psychologists’, is rendered as investigateurs de l’âme (APPV
142).52 Specific types of illness are translated in various ways. Kant’s
Wahnsinn is translated as délire, delirium or delusion. But Kant pro-
vides the Latin dementia, which is perhaps closer in sense (APPV
215, 217). Verrückung is translated as both aliénation and folie,
alienation or madness, even on the same page (APPV 216, see 217),
and the adjective verrückt as malade, sick or ill (APPV 217). Kant
however makes it clear that he understands Verrückung in the sense
of a progressive break from orders and norms, not just ‘disorder and
deviation’, but ‘another rule, a totally different standpoint’ (APPV
216). Derangement or displacement perhaps captures this better than
aliénation, with its Hegelian and Marxist connotations. Hegel and
Marx use different terms, including Entfremdung and Entäußerung.
Interestingly, Foucault makes the claim that the published text ‘leaves
no room for any kind of psychology whatsoever’, because of its focus
on Gemüt, not Seele (IKA 35/57; see 37/60).
A short passage illustrates some of these choices in context (APPV
202):
Hamburg, Kant 157
This does not mean that Gemüt and Geist should have been distin-
guished in every instance, or that each should only be translated by
a single English or French word. Compounds, for example, can use
one word as a root, but be rendered in another language by distinct
terms. For example, Kant uses Geistesgenuß, Geistergeschichten,
Geistesabwesenheit – mental-pleasure, ghost-stories, and absent-
mindedness– which Foucault renders as délectation spirituelle,
histoires d’esprits, and ‘dans l’esprit, un état d’absence’ or ‘être
absent’ (APPV 157, 181, 185, 208). A Geistliche– a priest, minister
or clergyman– is rendered by Foucault as gens or hommes d’Église
or, most often, simply prêtre (APPV 171, 295, 200, 207, 273).
Kant suggests that ‘the demand that reason makes on the cognitive
faculty’ can be summarized ‘in three questions, which are directed to
the three cognitive faculties’:
Unter dem Wort Volk (populus) versteht man die in einem Landstrich
vereinigte Menge Menschen, insofern sie ein Ganzes ausmacht.
Diejenige Menge oder auch der Teil derselben, welcher sich durch
gemeinschaftliche Abstammung für vereinigt zu einem bürgerlichen
Ganzen erkennt, heißt Nation (gens); der Teil, der sich von diesen
Gesetzen ausnimmt (die wilde Menge in diesem Volk), heißt Pöbel
(vulgus), dessen gesetzwidrige Vereinigung das Rottieren (agere
per turbas) ist, ein Verhalten, welches ihn von der Qualität eines
Staatsbürgers auschließt.
Kant’s text includes Latin words that are close to what he is suggest-
ing with his German terms, but it is interesting that Foucault does not
follow the most obvious comparisons. Indeed, for Pöbel, vulgus he
chooses a different Latinate term, plèbe, rather than something like
the English rabble, unruly or vulgar. The words opted for here seem
to be a deliberate choice to avoid ones with any Hegelian or Marxist
associations.
Interestingly, Foucault discusses the way that philosophers like Kant
are working with different languages, ‘since the decline of Latin as the
universal scholarly and philosophical language’ (IKA 62/97). Kant
frequently notes Latin terms in a way that is both ‘systematic and
essential’, with Foucault even noting that in the first Critique ‘Kant is
even embarrassed by his German, and considers it a limitation’ (IKA
62/98). However, Foucault contends that while references to Latin
terms are also frequent in the Anthropology ‘they are no longer
essential, having the value only of signposts and points of reference
[d’indication et de repère]’ (IKA 62/98). Here he finds that ‘the real
work, the path taken by the thinking in the Anthropology does not
pass through this Latinity, rather it is directed by the German system
of expression’ (IKA 62/98–9).
When Kant turns to the question of the sublime, he provides
the word ‘sublime’ as a gloss to his German word Das Erhabenz
(APPV 243). Foucault takes this as the French word, and so translates
the German with this word, and adds a note saying: ‘In French in the
text’. But given Kant’s well-known debt to Edmund Burke, it seems
Hamburg, Kant 161
much more likely that Kant means the English word.54 The inter-
play of the languages– its Latinate root, Kant’s German, Foucault’s
French and English come together.
The relation between the 1798 text and the Critique is therefore
paradoxical. On the one hand, the Critique announces and makes
space for anthropology at the heart of an empirical philosophy; the
Anthropology, for its part, makes no reference to the Critique or
to the organizing principles that it sets out. On the other hand, the
Anthropology repeats the general articulation of the Critique, as well
as the now traditional division of the faculties, as if it went without
saying that it should do so; and yet, despite this implicit and con-
stant reference to the Critique, the latter has no foundational value
with regard to the Anthropology. The Anthropology rests on the
Critique but is not rooted in it. It inclines spontaneously toward that
which must serve as its foundation: not critical, but transcendental
162 Hamburg, Kant
Foucault suggests that the model for this critique, for ‘bringing that
proliferation of the questioning of man to an end’ can be found in
the ‘Nietzschean enterprise’. The death of God puts an ‘end to the
absolute’, and so it is also the ‘death of man’. Closing his analysis,
Foucault suggests that:
Les Mots et les choses, published in 1966 and translated as The Order
of Things. Before it took on its final title, Foucault would refer to it
as his ‘book on signs’, which Defert suggests he began working on in
October 1963, not long after completing work on the proofs of the
Kant translation (C 25/19). L’Ordre des choses was Foucault’s own
first preference for the book’s title, and that phrase appears in the
translation as his rendering of Kant’s die Ordnung der Dinge (APPV
162). The Order of Things will be discussed in The Archaeology
of Foucault, but there are indications of that future project even in
Kant’s own text, let alone Foucault’s introduction.
Bezeichnungsvermögen, which Kant glosses with the Latin facultas
signatrix, is translated by Foucault as faculté de désignation, rather
than the faculty of signification or using signs (APPV 191). For Kant,
‘One can divide signs [Zeichen] into arbitrary (artificial [Kunst-]),
natural, and miraculous [Wunderzeichen/prodigieux] signs’ (APPV
192). This leads to Foucault’s claim that of Kant’s terms, Kunst is
‘among the most resistant to translation’.
Other names who appear not to matter should also be mentioned. Yet
they know, these friends from Sweden and these Polish friends, that
something of their presence is in these pages. May they forgive me for
making such demands, on them and their happiness, so close to a work
that spoke only of distant sufferings, and the somewhat dusty archives
of pain. (FD1 xi; DE#4 I, 167; HF–/xxxvi)
This text is both project and residue of a text which was not written.
The book of an absent book.
I had been asked to write a little history of psychiatry. Something
like Ackerknecht. I apologized for my incompetence, and I proposed,
a little riskily, writing a book more on the mad than on their doctors,
closer to madness at the moment when it is denounced.18
Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision 169
made their decision and Gouhier told the room that Foucault had
been awarded his degree of doctorat ès lettres ‘with highest honours
[la mention très honorable]’.
Gouhier’s written report on the decision was completed on the 25
May.28 The report is interesting, because despite its high praise for the
work, it notes some serious reservations. Concerning the secondary
thesis, the jury felt that the translation of Kant was ‘correct but a little
hasty’ (SP 98).29 Despite the criticism that Foucault was ‘more of a
philosopher than an exegete or an historian’, Gandillac thought the
translation should be revised and expanded to produce a ‘truly criti-
cal edition of Kant’s text’, with the introduction a separate study (SP
99). In any case, Hyppolite thought the introduction was more of an
outline of a different book on anthropology, suggesting that it ‘owed
much more to Nietzsche than to Kant’ (SP 99).30 Seeing the lineage of
this work back to the Lille and ENS lectures of the early to mid 1950s
thus comes full circle. It not only had its beginning in that interest;
his examiners discerned that it retained that wider project within it.
The Kant translation was really only a ‘pretext’ to that work. Indeed,
Defert recalls that Foucault described the introduction later as ‘his
book on Nietzsche’ (CH 40). The advice to publish a critical edition
of Kant was only partly fulfilled with the 1964 publication.
With the primary thesis, the examiners felt that he has a tendency
towards rhetoric and making an impression, though the ‘erudition is
not in doubt’ (SP 100), and Gouhier notes in his report that ‘apparent
here and there is a certain indifference to the drudgery that always
accompanies the most elevated work’ (SP 98). Foucault was deemed
to have ‘a spontaneous tendency to go beyond the facts themselves’
and the criticisms might have been broader if there had been other
historians on the jury, analysing his work on art, literature and insti-
tutions (SP 100–1). But, despite the ‘serious criticisms’ of both theses,
Gouhier concludes:
However, the fact remains that we are in the presence of a truly original
principal thesis, of a man whose personality, intellectual ‘dynamism’
and talent for exposition qualify him to teach in higher education. This
is why, despite reservations, the distinction was awarded unanimously.
(SP 101)
Reception
Foucault had little time to reflect on these accolades. Canguilhem
apparently told him right after the thesis defence: ‘Now it’s time for
you to get to work.’32 One immediate consequence of the award was
Foucault’s appointment as an examiner for the ENS entrance con-
cours, of which Hyppolite was now director (C 24/26).33 But Foucault
also had another job. Between submission and defence, Foucault had
moved from his position in Hamburg. In April 1960 Foucault had
been getting references from Hyppolite and Canguilhem.34
Canguilhem recommended Foucault to Vuillemin, who appointed
him to Clermont-Ferrand as a maître de conférences in psychology,
somewhere between an assistant and associate professor position.35
This was the highest position he could be appointed to without his
doctorate, though it was dependent on History of Madness being pub-
lished. Georges Bastide wrote the report on Foucault’s qualifications
for the post in June 1960: ‘Michel Foucault has already written some
minor works: translations of some German works, and on history
and method in psychology, works of popularization [vulgarization].
All that is respectable. But it is certain that it is the candidate’s theses
that are his best qualifications.’36
Foucault would later refer to his five years abroad as ones where
he was always a stranger (DE#141 II, 660–1). He began his post at
Clermont-Ferrand in October 1960, though again commuted from
Paris, because of a wish to live in the city and access its libraries.
On returning from Hamburg he moved back into the flat on the rue
Monge, before buying his own apartment at 13 rue du Docteur Finlay
in July 1961 (C 23–4/26–7). In the autumn of 1962, with the doctor-
ate now approved, he was promoted to Professor in Philosophy and
head of department, succeeding Vuillemin who had been appointed
to the Collège de France in the chair left vacant by Merleau-Ponty’s
death on 3 May 1961.37 Vuillemin would, almost a decade later, be
one of the key figures behind Foucault’s own election to the Collège.38
It did not take long before Foucault’s book was noticed. Some of
this was due to copies he had sent out himself. One was dedicated:
‘For Althusser, who was and remains the master, the first, in witness
of recognition and admiration.’39 Althusser’s reading, along with
that of Jacques Derrida, will be discussed in The Archaeology of
Foucault. Perhaps most gratifying was Bachelard’s letter on 1 August
1961, saying it was ‘a great book. . . You are a real explorer.’40 This
recognition perhaps makes his 1978 complaint a little unreasona-
ble, describing the book as ‘obviously a bastard: a little history of
172 Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision
new pages, and then used the second half of the original book’s
Chapter V as its second part, with revisions. Chapter VI of the origi-
nal book on Pavlov and reflex psychology was dropped entirely, and
a wholly new conclusion completes the revised edition. Yet none of
this is made apparent to the reader. The copyright page of the second
edition does list a first, but does not indicate its original title; it is
dated to first quarter 1962, but does not say it is revised.58 Subsequent
editions of the book, in 1966 and then several in the Quadrige series
after Foucault’s death, mention the first edition of 1954, but do not
indicate that the text is substantially different. Similarly, the back
cover of the 1962 edition, which, like the earlier edition, has a list of
books in the ‘Initiation Philosophique’ series, now lists Maladie men-
tale et psychologie in the sequence, with its new title, but in the place
of the 1954 book. In the third edition of 1966 the series list appears
in the endpapers. Once reprinted in the Quadrige series, from 1995,
that initial series connection disappears. The English translation is of
the second edition.
One example of the revisions in the first part comes right at the
beginning of the book. In the original, as Chapter 3 discussed,
Foucault suggests that to understand ‘the root of mental pathology’
we should not look at metapathology, ‘but only in a reflexion on man
himself’ (MMPe 2). Now, he revises this to suggest that it should be
sought ‘in a certain relation, historically situated, of man to the mad
man and to the true man’ (MMPs 2/2). And then, while in the original
Foucault had proposed to ‘to recall how the traditional or more recent
psychopathologies were constituted and to indicate which postulates
of mental medicine need to be liberated to become rigorously scien-
tific’ (MMPe 2), in the revised version he replaces the second half of
the phrase with ‘the requirements [préalables] that mental medicine
must be aware of it to acquire new rigour’ (MMPs 2/2). The notion
of scientific rigour is amended, given Foucault’s doubts about science,
and postulates become préalables.
Towards the end of the introduction ‘the morbid individual [l’indi-
vidu morbide]’ (MMPe 16) becomes ‘the individual patient [l’individu
malade]’ (MMPs 16/13). Equally in the critique of a metapathology
(MMPe 16), Foucault now glosses its being ‘artificial [factice]’ as
depending on ‘an historical fact that is already behind us’ (MMPs
16/13). The idea of the ‘real man’ found in the original disappears.
While the 1954 text had proposed one way to examine mental illness
was to ‘look for the concrete forms it can take in the psychological life
of an individual; then determine the conditions that make their vari-
ous aspects possible, and restore the whole causal system that founds
them’ (MMPe 16–17); the 1962 text says ‘look for the concrete
176 Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision
forms that psychology has been able to attribute to it, then determine
the conditions that have made possible this strange status of mad-
ness, a mental illness that cannot be reduced to any illness’ (MMPs
16–17/13). The changes indicated here lead Foucault to reflect his
different approach with an outline of the book’s two parts. The first
remains the same, but the ‘The Real Conditions of the Illness’ (MMPe
17) is replaced:
Yet this rewriting did not obscure all traces of language, which
Foucault, in 1972, would fairly systematically remove from the
second edition of Birth of the Clinic.60 He keeps, for example, his
attempt at proposing a ‘structural description of mental illness’. This,
he says, ‘would have to analyse the positive and negative signs for
each syndrome, that is to say, detail the suppressed structures and the
disengaged structures. This would not involve explaining patholog-
ical structures, but simply placing them in a perspective that would
make the facts of individual or social regression observed by Freud
and Janet coherent and comprehensible’ (MMPe 32; MMPs 32/26).61
Right at the end of the first half of the book, in the original, Foucault
says that we need to think about the world and its ‘enigmatic subjec-
tivity’ (MMPe 69). In the revision he says it is its ‘enigmatic status’
that is in question. But he also adds that we need to question the way
in which mental illness ‘is circumscribed as an illness’ (MMPs 69/56).
This replaces a few lines of the original on the need to shift from an
exploration of internal dimensions to the external ones (MMPe 69).
While the changes to the first half are relatively minor, the second
half is more comprehensively reworked. Some of these changes are
still small, such as the removal of references to notions of the person-
ality dependent on the original book’s overall project in 1954 (MMPe
71; MMPs 71/60). But others are much more significant, including the
all-new Chapter V, entitled ‘The Historical Constitution of Mental
Illness’. It begins with the stark statement that ‘it was at a relatively
recent date that the West accorded madness the status of mental
illness’ (MMPs 76/64). He outlines a conventional view that the mad
people of the Middle Ages and Renaissance were possessed, mentally
ill without recognition, and that modern medicine, with its ‘calm,
objective, scientific gaze [regard]’ was able to recognize ‘supernatural
perversion’ as instead ‘a deterioration of nature’ (MMPs 76/64). But
Foucault rejects this story for a number of reasons, suggesting that the
‘complex problem of possession’ is really part of ‘the history of reli-
Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision 177
gious ideas’, not of madness; and that in any case not all mad people
were seen in that way. Indeed, it makes an unwarranted assumption
that the possessed were indeed mentally ill. But Foucault also quickly
outlines how medicine was involved in the treatment of possession,
giving a few examples, and noting how these are distinct histories
which would need to be addressed in detail– something he does, of
course, in part, in the History of Madness (MMPs 76–7/64–5).
Indeed, he suggests that even Greek medicine thought about the
relation of madness to pathology and many hospitals had beds
reserved for the mad. But this does not mean that madness itself was
understood medically: ‘Madness was wide in extension, and it had
no medical base [support]’ (MMPs 78/66). By extension Foucault is
making a crucial point. What was defined as madness was dependent
on many factors, and it changed over time. At different times it was
bound up with understanding of language, of death and fear, art and
literature (MMPs 78–80/66–7). In summary, Foucault contends that
‘up to about 1650, Western culture was strangely hospitable to these
forms of experience’ (MMPs 80/67), but then he immediately follows
this with the break he had identified in History of Madness: ‘About
the middle of the seventeenth century, a sudden change took place:
the world of madness was to become the world of exclusion’ (MMPs
80/67).
Foucault quickly outlines the examples he had explored in such
detail in ‘The Great Confinement’ chapter of History of Madness,
talking of the types of people excluded and the places in which this
happened (MMPs 80–1/67–8). As he notes, ‘These houses had no
medical vocation; one was not admitted in order to receive treatment;
one was taken in because one could no longer cope with life or
because one was no longer fit to belong to society’ (MMPs 81/68).
The question at stake was not the one between ‘madness and illness’,
but the relation society had to itself (MMPs 81/68). In large part the
mad were confined because they were unproductive, ‘their inability to
participate in the production, circulation, or accumulation of wealth’
(MMPs 81/68). ‘Internment, therefore, was linked, in its original and
in its fundamental meaning, with this restructuring of social space’
(MMPs 81–2/68). The other types of people with whom the mad
were interned– the venereally diseased, libertines and criminals– led
to all kinds of alliances of people and the question of ‘moral and
social guilt’ (MMPs 82/69). At the same time, madness was itself
obscured, silenced, ‘deprived of its language’, and was something
spoken of, not spoken by. Only with Freud, Foucault suggests, was
it possible ‘for reason and unreason to communicate in the danger
of a common language’ (MMPs 82/69). As Foucault summarizes:
178 Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision
with ‘our culture’ (MMPe 87; MMPs 99/83). In 1954 Foucault had
suggested that regarding the contradictions of existence in culture:
‘psychologists have given this experience the name of ambivalence
and seen in it the conflict of instincts. Its origin is, in reality, in the
contradiction of social relations’ (MMPe 87). In 1962 the second
sentence is replaced with ‘A mythology built on so many dead myths’
(MMPs 99/83).
One key passage is the final paragraph of Chapter VI, which reuses
material from 1954 but with some interesting differences (MMPe
89–90; MMPs 101/84–5). First, Foucault replaces ‘evolution’ with
‘genesis’, but more importantly, the idea of ‘real origins’ with ‘onto-
logical forms’. Additionally, the idea that only history can provide us
with sufficient access also changes. In 1954, it is ‘the conditions of
possibility of psychological structures’, in 1962 it is ‘the sole concrete
a priori from which mental illness draws, with the empty opening up
of its possibility, its necessary figures’. A schematic overview of the
book’s argument in 1954 (MMPe 90) is dropped entirely in 1962. So
too is the entire Chapter VI of the original book. This was the chapter
in which Pavlov, and Marxist work more generally, was seen as a
resolution to some of the questions raised in earlier parts. His distance
from the party may explain this cut, as does his own intellectual devel-
opment. But another factor may have been Canguilhem’s study of the
reflex, which appeared in 1955 and fundamentally changed the terms
of the debate between external stimulus and physiological response.62
The timeline, alone of the second half of the book, is entirely
unchanged from the 1954 edition. The 1962 book has an entirely
new, and much briefer conclusion. In it, Foucault makes the claim
that the relation between the human and themselves, structured as
a relation between themselves and truth, ‘is the philosophical foun-
dation of all possible psychology’. It is one that he sees emerging at
a particular, significant moment, when reason and unreason were
re-established, not on the basis of liberty, but where reason shifted
from being ‘an ethic and became a nature’ (MMPs 103/87). It is there-
fore clear to Foucault why ‘psychology can never master madness;
it is because psychology became possible in our world only when
madness had already been mastered and excluded from the drama’
(MMPs 103/87). He finds, just as he did in the last part of the History
of Madness, glimpses of this appear ‘in lightning flashes and cries’, in
literary figures like Nerval, Artaud, Nietzsche or Roussel. But then,
he ends:
from that freedom, that, for contemporary man, only the existence of
‘psychologists’ allows him to forget. (MMPs 104/87–8)
student years, around 1956–7’, and then specifies that it was written
1955–60 (DE#330 IV, 436; EW II 437).68 The dating is significant:
while traces do go back to 1955 and his arrival in Uppsala, and go
forward to the preface written in Hamburg, 1956–7 is crucially sig-
nificant. In 1978 he describes it as ‘my first true book’ (DE#242 III,
669). It was also one he valued over those that came later. As Eribon
recounts:
One day in the early 1980s I asked him which of his books was his
favourite, and he replied without hesitating: Histoire de la folie. He
added, ‘Of course it would be different if I wrote it today, but I think
that book had something totally new to contribute.’69
This rewriting of his past would allow some of his retrospective claims
about his work. In the above-mentioned 1983 interview he declared
that ‘I have never been a Freudian, I have never been a Marxist and
I have never been a structuralist.’ As he adds, History of Madness is
a book that is not Freudian, Marxist or structuralist (DE#330 IV,
436; EW II 437). That may be true if this was indeed his ‘first book’,
but the Marxism claim is difficult to deny entirely if we read Maladie
mentale et personnalité; and his complicated relation to structuralism
in the 1960s is obscured by a later silent reworking of Birth of the
Clinic. The re-edition of History of Madness that same year also loses
the original preface, which had also been explicit about structure.
Then, in one of the draft versions of the introduction to the second
volume of the History of Sexuality, dating from late 1982 to early
1983, Foucault recalls the way that his work links back to his earliest
concerns:
This position did not stop PUF reissuing the book in 1995. It remains
in print with that press today; while, confusingly, the English version
now in print is back with Harper, retitled as Madness: The Invention
of an Idea.73
Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision 185
and larger font. Yet, it is striking that Foucault almost never makes
changes within the paragraphs and pages he keeps, save for a very few
style changes and in a couple of instances where he writes a few lines
to bridge a cut at the start of a chapter.79 In the abridgement, Chapter
VII, ‘The New Division’ joins material from the original chapter of
that name to some of the otherwise cut Part III, Chapter III ‘The
Proper Use of Liberty’. The 10/18 conclusion simply uses the final
few pages of the original book’s final chapter, ‘The Anthropological
Circle’ (HM 549–57/530–8).
These details, which could be extended by looking at other chap-
ters, give the essence of how the text was abridged for this shorter
edition. It is dramatic reduction, but not a revision of the book, unlike
Maladie mentale. Foucault is also brutal with the notes. The first
chapter of the original text has 115 footnotes, but the abridgement
only seven endnotes. Thirty of the missing notes belong to the text
which was cut, but even so, 78 notes relating to retained text are
removed. These range from specific references to texts cited, which
are often quoted with no reference given, to some short discussions
of specific points or indications of possible future work. Chapter II is
similar: just five notes are kept, when the original book often had that
number on a single page.
Yet it is crucial to underline that 1964 also saw a reprint of the
entire 1961 text. The only time Foucault revised the text for a full,
scholarly edition was in 1972, when he removed the original preface
and set a short new one in its place. If we want to look at Foucault’s
revision of the text it is a comparison of the 1961 one with the 1972
one that matters. Even that revision was limited in scope. As Foucault
told Mauriac at the time, ‘If I had written this book today, I would be
less rhetorical.’80 The 1964 abridgement was for a different purpose
entirely. Foucault’s intention was to create a shorter text for a wider
audience, not to replace the original. While no scholarly French com-
mentator would have only consulted the abridged edition, this was
not the same in other languages. The 10/18 edition was unfortunately
the basis for some translations, including the 1965 Tavistock English
version by Richard Howard as Madness and Civilization. The English
version added part of the chapter ‘Passion and Delirium’ from the
original (HM 243–68/225–50; FD2–/85–116), and it was this shorter
text which shaped Foucault’s initial reception in English.81
As Colin Gordon and others have pointed out, some of the criti-
cisms of Foucault’s work in the Anglophone world were based on the
shorter version, and may not have been valid if the fuller text had been
consulted.82 Yet Gordon’s analysis has sometimes been taken to mean
more than this. Even Ian Hacking twice refers to the material cut in
188 Defence, Publication, Reception, Revision
There is one further publication from 1961. It was a short book review
of Koyré’s The Astronomical Revolution. Published in La Nouvelle
Revue française at the very end of the year, it might be seen as simply
an occasional piece.1 But Foucault begins to sketch out some themes,
which he will develop over the next several years. Rather than write
a gloomy history of truth, recounting the errors from which great
men have saved us, Foucault suggests that Koyré has done something
different. He has recounted, ‘in grave scholarly voice, the marvellous
and unbroken marriage of the true and the false’ (DE#6 I, 170).
Koyré combines the work of ‘historian and philosopher’, his work
is ‘to take ideas only at the moment of their turbulence, where true
and false are not yet separated. What is recounted is an indivisible
[indissociable] labour, beneath the divisions which history makes
afterwards’ (DE#6 I, 170).
Foucault says Koyré shows that it is clear that Johannes Kepler was
far from hurried in reaching his conclusions, talking of the decade
of calculations and checking, and the decade of fitting the theory
together. He notes how Koyré reconstitutes this path, seeing the rela-
tion between the truth pursued and the errors he sought to bypass.
Kepler can be situated between Montaigne’s recognition of error and
Descartes’s wish to exclude it, for he ‘does not tell the truth without
recounting the error. Truth is uttered at the encounter between an
utterance [énoncé] and a narrative [récit]’ (DE#6 I, 171).
There are many issues raised in this short review, but the language
is beginning to shift. Foucault is talking about truth and error, the
relations between the two, and how they fit into a wider system. It is
190 Coda: Towards Archaeology
The Early Foucault has tried to tell this story– of how Foucault came
to write the History of Madness– in considerably more detail. All
the places mentioned by Foucault here are significant in the story, as
is his post in Lille. I have read what he read, and analysed what he
wrote, either published or unpublished. All the available pieces of
evidence, from archives in France, Germany, Sweden, Switzerland
and the United States, have been used to reconstruct a story. While
indebted to earlier writings on Foucault, as the endnotes attest, I have
tried to supplement, enrich, and at times correct previous accounts.
In the 1972 preface to the Gallimard re-edition, Foucault suggests
that a ‘book is produced, a minuscule event, an object that fits into
the hand’ (HM 9/xxxvii). Foucault goes on to indicate all the ways
that the book is implicated in a whole network of readings, repeti-
tions, circulation, summaries and commentaries. A new preface, to a
new edition, is another one of those moments, another time a book
is doubled, ‘something which is neither totally an illusion, nor totally
an identical object’ (HM 9/xxxvii). Foucault however indicates that
his ‘desire is that a book, at least for the person who wrote it, should
be nothing other than the sentences of which it is made’ (HM 10/
xxxviii). History of Madness is, despite Foucault’s wish, so much
more than that. Against his suggestion, ‘teaching and criticism’ has
not reduced it, but has given it a productive and contested afterlife, or
afterlives. In this book, about the genesis of Foucault’s book, working
backwards even if writing forwards, I have begun to indicate some of
those intellectual and historical networks that preceded and exceeded
it.
Foucault was a student of philosophy and of psychology, planned
other theses before completing the one on madness, and wrote
extensive studies of Hegel, Husserl and Kant, which he chose not to
publish. He made a deep analysis of Binswanger’s work, far more
extensive than the single text he published. He wrote a short book
and two chapters, all commissioned, which he later largely tried to
forget. He proved to be a skilful translator of German psychological,
192 Coda: Towards Archaeology
Introduction
1 Jean-Pierre Barou, ‘Il aurait pu aussi bien m’arriver tout autre chose’,
Libération, 26 June 1984, 4. Barou only specifies that the conversa-
tions were in late 1977 or early 1978.
2 David Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, London: Hutchinson,
1993, xix. Foucault appears as ‘Muzil’ in the autobiographical novel,
Hervé Guibert, À l’ami qui ne m’a pas sauvé la vie, Paris: Gallimard,
1990; To the Friend who did not Save my Life, trans. Linda Coverdale,
London: Quartet, 1991. On the manuscripts see, especially, chs. 10
and 13. See also Guibert, ‘Les Secrets d’un homme’, in Mauve le
Vierge: Nouvelles, Paris: Gallimard, 1988, 103–11, 108.
3 Claude Mauriac, Les Temps accompli, Paris: Bernard Grasset, 1991,
43.
4 Michel Foucault, Les Aveux de la chair, ed. Frédéric Gros, Paris:
Gallimard, 2018. See Stuart Elden, ‘Foucault’s Confessions of the
Flesh’, Theory, Culture and Society, 35 (7–8), 2018, 293–311.
5 On working with this archive, see Samantha Saïdi, Jean-François Bert,
Philippe Artières, ‘Archives d’un lecteur philosophe: Le traitement
numérique des notes de lecture de Michel Foucault’, in Franz Fischer,
Christiane Fritze, Georg Vogeler (eds), Kodikologie und Paläographie
im digitalen Zeitalter 2, Norderstelt: BoD, 2010, 375–95; Philippe
Artières, Jean-François Bert, Pascal Michon, Mathieu Potte-Bonneville
and Judith Revel, ‘Dans l’atelier Foucault’, in Christian Jacob (ed.),
Les Lieux de savoir 2: Les Mains de l’intellect, Paris: Albin Michel,
2011, 944–62; and Marie-Laure Massot, Arianna Sforzini, Vincent
Ventresque, ‘Transcribing Foucault’s Handwriting with Transkribus’,
194 NotesNotes
to pp. 1–5
Seuil (Points), 1975, 71, 293; The Seminar of Jacques Lacan Book I,
42, 188.
133 Jacques Lacan, Le Mythe individuel du névrosé, ou Poésie et vérité
dans la névrose, Seuil, 2007, 9–50; ‘The Neurotic’s Individual Myth’,
Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 48, 1979, 405–25. See Freud, ‘Notes Upon
a Case of Obsessional Neurosis (‘The Rat Man’)’ and ‘From the
History of an Infantile Neurosis (The ‘Wolf Man’)’, Case Histories II:
‘Rat Man’, Schreber, ‘Wolf Man’, A Case of Female Homosexuality,
London: Penguin, 1991, 31–128, 225–366.
134 Miller, ‘An Introduction to Seminars I and II’, 6.
135 Freud’s papers on technique can be found in Schriften zur
Behandlungstechnik: Studienausgabe– Ergänzungsband, Frankfurt
am Main: S. Fischer, 1975; Collected Papers, volume II: Clinical
Papers, Papers on Technique, ed. Joan Riviere, London: Hogarth,
1953 [1924]; or Therapy or Technique, ed. Philip Rieff, New York:
Collier, 1963.
136 Miller, ‘An Introduction to Seminars I and II’, 5.
137 Le Séminaire Livre II: Le Moi dans la théorie de Freud et dans la
technique de la psychanalyse, ed. Jacques-Alain Miller, Paris: Seuil
(Points), 1978; The Seminar of Jacques Lacan Book II: The Ego in
Freud’s Theory and in the Technique of Psychoanalysis 1954–1955,
trans. Sylvana Tomaselli, New York: W.W. Norton and Company,
1988.
138 Sigmund Freud, On Metapsychology: The Theory of Psychoanalysis,
London: Penguin, 1991, 269–338, 339–407.
139 Le Séminaire Livre III: Les Psychoses 1955–1956, ed. Jacques-Alain
Miller, Paris: Seuil, 1981; The Seminar of Jacques Lacan Book III: The
Psychoses 1955–56, trans. Russell Grigg, London: Routledge, 1993.
Freud, ‘Psychoanalytic Notes on an Autobiographical Account of a
Case of Paranoia (Dementia Paranoides) (Schreber)’, Case Histories II,
131–223.
140 Maurice Pinguet, Le Texte Japon: Introuvables et inédits, ed. Michaël
Ferrier, Paris: Seuil, 2009, 49–50, 63–4. The first reference is to a
reprint of ‘Les Années d’apprentissage’, Le Débat 41, 1986, 122–
31. Foucault’s appointment diaries between 1951–55 are in BNF
NAF28803 (5), Folder 4.
141 Pinguet only published one book in his lifetime (La Mort voluntaire
au Japon, Paris: Gallimard, 1984; Voluntary Death in Japan, trans.
Rosemary Morris, Cambridge: Polity, 1993). Other writings were col-
lected in Le Texte Japon after his death.
142 Pinguet, Le Texte Japon, 63–4; see François Ewald, ‘Repères bio-
graphiques’, Magazine littéraire, 325, 1994, 21–3, 21; C 18/18.
143 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 56. See Macey, Lacan in
Contexts, London: Verso, 1988; Élisabeth Roudinesco, Jacques Lacan
and Co: A History of Psychoanalysis in France, 1925–1985, trans.
Jeffrey Mehlman, London: Free Association Books, 1990. For France’s
Notes to
Notes
pp. 20–22 205
179 Schrift, ‘Is there Such a Thing as ‘French Philosophy’?’ 24–5; ‘The
Effects of the Agrégation de Philosophie’, especially 453–56.
180 Boutang, Louis Althusser, vol. II, 402–3.
181 This is confirmed by teaching materials in the Fonds Georges
Canguilhem at CAPHÉS.
182 Gary Gutting, Michel Foucault’s Archaeology of Scientific Reason,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989, 11, 54.
183 Georges Canguilhem, La Formation du concept de réflexe aux XVII et
XVIII siècles, Paris: PUF, 2nd edn, 1977 [1955].
184 See the Introduction to Canguilhem’s The Normal and the Pathological
in 1978 (trans. Carolyn R. Fawcett and Robert S. Cohen, New York:
Zone, 1991, 7–24); DE#219 III, 429–42. A revised version appeared
just before Foucault’s death (DE#361 IV, 763–76; EW II, 465–78).
185 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 62. On the relation, see Gutting,
Michel Foucault’s Archaeology of Scientific Reason, Ch. 1; and
Dominique Lecourt, Pour une critique de l’épistémologie: Bachelard,
Canguilhem, Foucault, Maspero, 1972; trans. Ben Brewster in Marxism
and Epistemology: Bachelard, Canguilhem and Foucault¸ Verso, 1975
(also including a translation of L’Épistémologie historique de Gaston
Bachelard, Paris: Vrin, 1969). More generally, see Stuart Elden,
Canguilhem, Cambridge: Polity, 2019, and its references.
186 BNF NAF28803 (4), folder 2; BNF NAF28730 (42b), folder 2.
187 Foucault to Canguilhem, June 1965, quoted in Eribon, Michel
Foucault, 175–6/103.
188 Roudinesco, Jacques Lacan and Co, 21–3.
189 Georges Canguilhem, Le Normal et le pathologique, Paris: PUF, 12th
edn, 2015 [1943/1966].
190 Georges Canguilhem, La Connaissance de la vie, Paris: Vrin, 2nd revd
edn, 1965 [1952]; trans. Stefanos Geroulanos and Daniela Ginsburg,
Knowledge of Life, New York: Fordham University Press, 2009.
See Foucault, Les Mots et les choses: Une Archéologie des sciences
humaines, Paris, Gallimard, 1966, 169 n. 1; The Order of Things: An
Archaeology of the Human Sciences, London: Routledge, 1970, 164 n
58.
191 Canguilhem, La Formation du concept de réflexe; cited in draft
manuscript of The Archaeology of Knowledge (BNF NAF28284 (1),
70b-71a), and mentioned in L’Archéologie du savoir, Paris: Gallimard/
Tel, 1969, 195 n. 1, 236; The Archaeology of Knowledge, trans. Alan
Sheridan, New York: Barnes and Noble, 1972, 144 n. 1, 173–4.
192 Canguilhem, Études; Idéologie et rationalité dans l’histoire des sciences
de la vie: Nouvelles études d’histoire et de philosophie des sciences,
Paris: Vrin, 1977; Ideology and Rationality in the History of the Life
Sciences, trans. Arthur Goldhammer, Cambridge: MIT Press, 1988.
Parts of Études are included in A Vital Rationalist: Selected Writings,
ed. François Delaporte, trans. Arthur Goldhammer, New York: Zone,
1994.
Notes to
Notes
pp. 27–28 209
332. Only two are in English: ‘The Case of Ellen West’, in Rollo May,
Ernest Angel, and Henri-Frédéric Ellenberger (eds), Existence: A New
Dimension in Psychiatry and Psychology, New York: Basic Books,
1958, 237–364; ‘The Case of Lola Voss’, Being-In-the-World: Selected
Papers of Ludwig Binswanger, trans. Jacob Needleman, New York:
Basic Books, 1963, 266–341.
83 Ludwig Binswanger and Aby Warburg, Die unendliche Heilung: Aby
Warburgs Krankengeschichte, ed. Chantal Marazia and David Stimilli,
Zürich: Diaphanes, 2007; Peter Loewenburg, ‘Aby Warburg, the Hopi
Serpent Ritual and Ludwig Binswanger’, Psychoanalysis and History,
19 (1), 2017, 77–98.
84 Roudinesco, Jacques Lacan and Co., 30.
85 Ludwig Binswanger, Einführung in die Probleme der allgemeinen
Psychologie, Berlin: Julius Springer, 1922. There are relatively few
texts from the earlier years reprinted in the Ausgewählte Werke.
86 Sigmund Freud and Ludwig Binswanger, Briefwechsel 1908–1938, ed.
Gerhard Fichtner, Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer, 1992; The Sigmund
Freud–Ludwig Binswanger Correspondence 1908–1938, ed. Gerhard
Fichtner, trans. Arnold J. Pomerans, New York: Other Press, 2003. See
Binswanger, Erinnerungen an Sigmund Freud, Berne: Francke, 1956;
Sigmund Freud: Reminiscences of a Friendship, New York: Grune and
Stratton, 1957. He also had a brief correspondence with Rorschach.
See Herman Rorschach: Briefwechsel, ed. Christian Müller and Rita
Signer, Bern: Hans Huber, 2004.
87 On his earlier work, see Susan Lanzoni, ‘An Epistemology of the
Clinic: Ludwig Binswanger’s Phenomenology of the Other’, Critical
Inquiry, 30 (1), 2003, 160–86; and more generally Caroline Gros,
Ludwig Binswanger: Entre phénoménologie et expérience psychiatri-
que, Chatou: Transparence, 2009.
88 Heidegger–Binswanger correspondence, UAT 443/13; part reproduced
in ‘Briefe und Briefstellen’, Binswanger, Ausgewählte Werke, vol. III,
339–47. It is discussed in Herzog, Weltentwürfe, Ch. 9 (89–106); and
Roger Frie, ‘Interpreting a Misinterpretation: Ludwig Binswanger and
Martin Heidegger’, Journal of the British Society for Phenomenology,
30 (3), 1999, 244–57.
89 On the movement generally, see Philippe Cabestan and Françoise
Dastur, Daseinsanalyse: Phénoménologie et psychiatrie, Paris: Vrin,
2011; Alice Holzhey-Kunz, Daseinsanalysis, trans. Sophie Leighton,
London: Free Association Books, 2014, Part I; and Camille Abettan,
Phénoménologie et psychiatrie: Heidegger, Binswanger, Maldiney,
Paris: Vrin, 2018. An earlier, more historical analysis is Georges
Lantéri-Laura, La Psychiatrie phénoménologique: Fondements phi-
losophiques, Paris: PUF, 1963. The standout study is Basso, Michel
Foucault e la Daseinsanalyse: Un’indagine metodologica, Milano:
Mimesis, 2007. For a helpful summary, see her transcript ‘Foucault
et la Daseinsanalyse’, École française de Daseinsanalyse, Sorbonne,
216 Notes to pp. 37–38
Notes
Foucault at the Movies, trans. and ed. Clare O’Farrell, New York:
Columbia University Press, 2018, 135–8; ‘The Asylum and the
Carnival’, Foucault at the Movies, 45–51.
207 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 57.
208 On this interview, see Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 158.
209 ‘Travaux et publications des professeurs en 1952–1953’, Annales de
l’université de Lille (1952–1953), 151.
210 Eribon, Michel Foucault, 110/63; see Michel Foucault et ses contempo-
rains, 107.
211 See Basso, ‘À propos d’un cours inédit’, 51–2; ‘What do we Learn from
the Foucault Archives of the 1950s?’, Theory, Culture and Society,
forthcoming.
piece is filed with pre-1955 materials, along with all the other 1950s
publications in BNF NAF28803 (4), folder 3.
8 Huisman to Foucault, 11 November 1953.
9 Wilhelm Dilthey, ‘Ideen über eine beschreibende und zergliedernde
Psychologie’, in Der geistige Welt: Einleitung in die Philosophie
des Lebens Erste Hälfte 1: Abhandlungen zur Grundlegung der
Geisteswissenschaftern, Gesammelte Schriften, V Band, ed. Georg
Misch, Stuttgart: B. G. Teubner, 1990, 139–340; Descriptive
Psychology and Historical Understanding, trans. Richard M. Zaner
and Kenneth I. Heiges, The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1977; Jaspers,
Allgemeine Psychopathologie; General Psychopathology.
10 Foucault’s only reference is to Binswanger, Grundformen und
Erkenntnis menchschlingen Daseins.
11 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 63.
12 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 63.
13 Foucault, ‘La Psychologie de 1850 à 1950’, Revue Internationale de
Philosophie, 44 (173), 1990, 159–76.
14 Foucault, ‘La Psychologie’, 605. See Albert Burloud, ‘Bilan de la psy-
chologie dans la première moitié du XXe siècle’, Revue philosophique
de la France et de l’étranger, 145, 1955, 1–27; and Maurice Pradines,
‘Méthode en psychologie génétique’, Revue philosophique de la France
et de l’étranger, 145, 1955, 28–42.
15 Foucault, ‘La Psychologie’, 605. See Maurice Pradines, Traité de psy-
chologie, Paris: PUF, 3 vols, 1942–6 (I Le psychisme élémentaire; II.1
Le génie humain: Ses œuvres; II.2 Le génie humaine: Ses instruments).
16 Foucault, ‘La Psychologie’, 606.
17 Daniel Lagache, L’Unité de la psychologie: Psychologie expérimen-
tale et psychologie clinique, PUF, 1949; La Psychanalyse, Paris: PUF,
1955.
18 Jean-Paul Sartre, Esquisse d’une théorie des emotions, Paris: Hermann,
1960 [1939]; Sketch for a Theory of the Emotions, trans. Philip Mairet,
London: Routledge, 1994; Sigmund Freud, Introductory Lectures on
Psychoanalysis, trans. James Strachey, London: Penguin, 1993; Kurt
Goldstein, The Organism: A Holistic Approach to Biology Derived
from Pathological Data in Man, New York: Zone, 1995; Marcel
Foucault, La Psychophysique, Félix Alcan, 1901.
19 Huisman and Weber, Histoire de la philosophie européenne II, 7, 663.
20 See ‘Nécrologie: Jean-Édouard Morère’, Revue philosophique de la
France et de l’étranger, 172 (4), 1982, 701. His essay ‘La Photométrie:
les sources de l’essai d’optique sur la gradation de la lumière de Pierre
Bouguer’, Revue d’histoire des sciences et de leurs applications, 18
(4), 1965, 337–84 was based on a presentation given to Canguilhem’s
seminar at the Institut d’Histoire des Sciences et des Techniques in
February 1963.
21 G. H., ‘Note liminaire’, Morère (ed.), Des chercheurs français s’inter-
rogent, 7.
Notes to
Notes
pp. 60–66 225
is to the Sorbonne course from 1961–2, IMEC DRR 219.13, ‘Le sens
du transcendantal’, lecture of 20 March 1962, 10r.
29 Jacques Derrida, Heidegger: La Question de l’être et l’histoire, ed.
Thomas Dutoit, Paris: Galilée, 2013, 75–7.
30 A[lphonse] de Waelhens, La Philosophie de Martin Heidegger,
Louvain: l’Institut supérieur de philosophie, 1946 [1942]. On this
book and its impact in France, see Baring, Converts to the Real, 225–8.
31 Binswanger, ‘La “Daseinsanalyse” en Psychiatrie’, 108.
32 Binswanger, ‘La “Daseinsanalyse” en Psychiatrie’, 110.
33 Binswanger, ‘La “Daseinsanalyse” en Psychiatrie’, 108–9.
34 Binswanger, ‘La “Daseinsanalyse” en Psychiatrie’, 109.
35 Henri Maldiney, ‘Le Dévoilement des concepts fondamentaux de la
psychologie à travers la Daseinsanalyse de L. Binswanger (1963)’, in
Regard, Parole, Espace, Lausanne: L’Age d’homme, 1973, 92. See
Henri Maldiney and Roland Kuhn, Rencontre– Begegnung: Au péril
d’exister, Briefwechsel Correspondance Français Deutsch, 1953–2004,
ed. Liselotte Rutishauser and Robert Christe, Würzburg: Königshausen
and Neumann, 2017.
36 Heidegger, Sein und Zeit, 184; Being and Time, 228.
37 Verdeaux, note to Binswanger, Introduction à l’analyse existentielle,
201 n. 2.
38 Verdeaux, note to Binswanger, Introduction à l’analyse existentielle,
208 n. 6.
39 Compare to a 1976 lecture where Foucault uses pulsion (DE#297 IV,
183; SKP 153).
40 Maldiney, ‘Ludwig Binswanger’, in Regard, Parole, Espace, 209.
41 Ludwig Binswanger, ‘Traum und Existenz’, Neue Schweizer
Rundschau, XXIII (IX), 1930, 673–85; XXIII (X), 1930, 766–79;
reprinted in Ausgewählte Vorträge und Aufsätze, Bern: Francke, 2
vols, 1947–55, 74–97.
42 See Binswanger, ‘Vorwort’, Ausgewählte Vorträge und Aufsätze, vol.
I, 11. The missing paragraph is on Neue Schweizer Rundschau, 676;
and relates to D&E 99/138/83; the English edition proves the text in a
note (103–4 n. 4).
43 These issues are not addressed in the reprint in Binswanger, Introduction
à l’analyse existentielle.
44 Binswanger to Verdeaux and Foucault, 2 March 1955, UAT 443/1206;
FM 194. This is corrected in Introduction à l’analyse existentielle,
224.
45 Eribon, Michel Foucault, 81–2/45; see Macey, The Lives of Michel
Foucault, 60.
46 Binswanger to Jacqueline Verdeaux, 6 January 1953, UAT 443/1206.
47 Binswanger, ‘Wahnsinn als lebensgeschichtliches Phänomen und als
Geisteskrankheit (Der Fall Ilse)’, in Schizophrenie, 29–55; ‘Insanity as
Life-Historical Phenomenon and as Mental Disease: The Case of Ilse’,
in May et al. (ed.), Existence, 214–36. Foucault’s translations seem
232 Notes to pp. 88–95
Notes
not to have survived, but see BNF NAF28730 (38), folder 1 and BNF
NAF28730 (42b), folder 1 for reading notes.
48 Miller, The Passions of Michel Foucault, 73, citing his interview with
Defert, 25 March 1990.
49 Defert misdates the text to 1953 (‘Lettre à Claude Lanzmann’,
Les Temps modernes, 531–532, 1990, 1201–1206, 1204); as does
Foucault, late in life (reported by Williams, DIE 31 n *).
50 Foucault to Binswanger, 27 April [1954], FM 183. See Basso, ‘À
propos d’un cours inédit’, 51–2. Binswanger kept copies of his letters
as well as Foucault’s replies, UAT 443/689; Foucault just Binswanger’s
letters, BNF 28803 (5), folder 1. See FM 183–95.
51 Jacqueline Verdeaux to Binswanger, 8 May 1954, UAT 443/1206.
52 Binswanger to Foucault, 6 May 1954, FM 184–5. A copy of the
typescript of both the translation and the introduction can be found in
Kuhn’s papers: StATG 9’40 3.1.82r1.
53 Binswanger to Foucault, 10 May 1954, FM 186–7.
54 Binswanger to Foucault, 10 May 1954, FM 187–92; Foucault to
Binswanger, 21 May 1954, FM 192–4.
55 Binswanger to Jacqueline Verdeaux, 6 January 1954, UAT 443/1206.
See Ausgewählte Werke, vol. III, 205–30, 71–94 and 179–203. The first
and second were translated by Verdeaux in Introduction à l’analyse
existentielle, 119–47, 49–77; none are in English.
56 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 67.
57 Foucault to Binswanger, 27 April [1954], FM 183.
58 Paul Häberlin, Der Mensch: Eine Philosophische Anthropologie,
Zürich: Schweizer Spiegel, 1941. See Paul Häberlin–Ludwig
Binswanger Briefwechsel 1908–1960, Basel: Schwabe, 1997.
59 See Foucault to Binswanger, 27 April [1954], FM 183.
60 See Freud, ‘Psychoanalytic Notes on an Autobiographical Account of
a Case of Paranoia (Dementia Paranoides) (Schreber)’, Case Histories
II, 131–223.
61 Lacan, Le Séminaire Livre I, 112–15; The Seminar of Jacques Lacan
Book I, 68–70.
62 The reference given is to Zur Umarbeitung der VI Logische
Untersuchungen, M III, 2 II 8a (DE#1 I, 77 n. 1; DIE 76 n. 11).
This is the manuscript from 1914 of a revised version of the original
text.
63 For a discussion, see Stuart Elden, ‘Foucault and Shakespeare: The
Theatre of Madness’, in Gotman and Fisher (eds), Foucault’s Theatres,
99–109.
64 Binswanger to Foucault, 10 May 1954, FM 188.
65 See Miller, The Passion of Michel Foucault, 73–5.
66 Pinguet, Le Texte Japon, 52.
67 Archived at the ENS library, S Phi g 3216 A.
68 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 70.
69 Jean-Paul Sartre, L’Imaginaire: Psychologie phénoménologique de l’im-
Notes to
Notes
pp. 95–97 233
can be found in BNF NAF28730 (55), Folder 11. See also Foucault’s
1980 discussion of Wagner’s Ring Cycle, directed by Patrice Chéreau
and conducted by Boulez (DE#286 IV, 111–15; EW II, 235–9); and the
1983 dialogue with Boulez (DE#333 IV 488–95; PPC 314–22).
119 Griffiths, The Sea on Fire, 70.
120 Le Temps musical, 23 February 1978, https://manifeste.ircam.fr/play-
lists/le-temps-musical/detail/?fbclid=IwAR2f1ndm nOz3H6Kj _d6ML
Br_DkG8jni_t2MzCPd21tTyZib-7G1WG14dWMM
121 Griffiths, The Sea on Fire, 70; referencing an interview with Boulez.
See also Alain Jaubert, ‘Quelques souvenirs de Pierre Boulez’, Critique
471–2, 1986, 745–7. Joan Peyser, Boulez: Composer, Conductor,
Enigma, London: Cassell, 1977 makes no mention of Foucault, and
only a brief reference to work by Barraqué.
122 See C 18/19; Laurent Feneyrou, ‘Chronologie’, in Barraqué, Écrits, 26.
On the wider context of Barraqué’s engagement with Nietzsche, see
Feneyrou, ‘Introduction’, in Barraqué, Écrits, 18–20.
123 Hermann Broch, Der Tod des Vergil, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp,
1976 [1945]; The Death of Virgil, trans. Jean Starr Untermeyer,
Oxford: OUP, 1983 [1945].
124 Michel Habart, ‘Hermann Broch et les rançons de la création poétique’,
Critique 83, April 1954, 310–22. Defert suggests it was from Blanchot
(C 20/21). See Blanchot, ‘Broch’, La Nouvelle Revue française, August
1955, 295–301; and ‘courr de Virgile’, La Nouvelle Revue française,
October 1955, 747–59; collected in Le Livre à venir, Paris: Gallimard,
1959, 136–54. See Michèle Lowrie, ‘Blanchot and the Death of
Virgil’, Materiali e discussioni per l’analisi dei testi classici 52, 2004,
211–25.
125 Hermann Broch, La Mort de Virgile, trans. Albert Kohn, Paris:
Gallimard, 1955. On this work’s influence, and Barraqué’s reading of
theory generally, see Patrick Ozzard-Low, ‘Barraqué Broch Heidegger:
A Philosophical Introduction to the Music of Jean Barraqué’, Cahiers
d’études germaniques, 16, 93–106.
126 John A. Hargreaves, Music in the Works of Broch, Mann, and Kafka,
Rochester, NY: Camden House, xiii; and see 91–3.
127 Various outlines are in Barraqué’s notebook and notes, BNF Musique
MS-20148 (1–9). See Rose-Marie Janzen, ‘A Biographical Chronology
of Jean Barraqué’, trans. Adrian Jack, Perspectives of New Music, 27
(1), 1989, 234–45, 240.
128 Hodeir, Since Debussy, 200.
129 Jack, ‘Jean Barraqué’, 6.
130 Jean Barraqué, ‘Propos impromptu’, Courrier musical de France, 26,
1969, 75–80, 78.
131 Among the obituaries, see the set of tributes organized by Raymond
Lyon, ‘Portrait de Jean Barraqué’, Courrier musical de France, 44,
1973, 130–2.
132 The programme can be found as BNF Musique Res Vm dos 40 (31).
Notes toNotes
pp. 125–127 247
The British première was not until 1989 at the Almeida Festival; see
‘Dossier d’artiste, Barraqué (Jean)’, Bibliothèque-musée de l’Opéra.
133 Barraqué, ‘Des goûts et des couleurs. . . et où l’on en discute’, Domaine
musical: Bulletin international de musique contemporaine, ed. Pierre
Boulez 1, 1954, 14–23; reprinted in Écrits, 67–73. The reprint does
not have the reproduction of a letter by Alban Berg, between 16–17.
On this interview, see Griffiths, The Sea on Fire, 72–3.
134 Griffiths, The Sea on Fire, 201.
135 Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, KSA4, 150–51; The
Portable Nietzsche, 229. The French version used was Ainsi parlait
Zarathoustra, trans. Maurice Betz, Paris: Gallimard, 2nd edn, 1936,
119.
136 Cited by Griffiths, The Sea on Fire, 71.
69 See, for example, DE#140 II, 647; ‘Film, History and Popular Memory’,
in Foucault at the Movies, 104.
70 On this, see particularly, Louis, La Table Ronde, ch. V.
71 The letter can be found as ‘Annexe 1’ in only the second edition of
Eribon, Michel Foucault, Paris: Flammarion, 1991, 356–7; and part
in SP 46–7. See Eribon, Michel Foucault et ses contemporains, 120–1.
Foucault does not provide a year, but the context makes it clear it was
1956. A letter from Père Festugière to Foucault, 10 February 1957, in
Vesperini, ‘Un gentil mécréant’, 129–30, indicates that Foucault was
developing this work on madness in dialogue with classical sources.
72 Sten Hjalmar Lindroth, Paracelsismen i Sverige till 1600–talets mitt,
Uppsala: Almqvist and Wiksell, 1943.
73 Broberg, ‘Foucault i Uppsala’, 21.
74 Sten Lindroth, ‘Erik Wallers bibliotek’, in J. Viktor Johansson (ed.),
Svenska Bibliotek, Stockholm: Wahlström and Widstrand, 1946,
159–216.
75 Sten Lindroth to Erik Waller, 3 March 1947, Waller Ms Wall-00890,
Uppsala special collections.
76 Foucault to Dumézil, 29 May [1957], part-cited in Eribon, Michel
Foucault, 147/–.
77 Eribon, Michel Foucault, 147/84.
78 Foucault to Sten Lindroth, 10 August 1957, Uppsala special collections;
reproduced in SP 78–81; cited in Eribon, Michel Foucault, 148–9/84.
79 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 80.
80 Broberg, ‘Foucault in Uppsala’, 7; see ‘Foucault i Uppsala’, 22. Sten
Lindroth, A History of Uppsala University, 1477–1977, trans. Neil
Tomkinson, Uppsala: Uppsala University, 1976, has no reference to
Foucault. This is symptomatic of a general survey of trends and institu-
tional history: in the post-war period there are no scholars mentioned.
On the general intellectual context, see Tore Frängsmyr, ‘History of
Science in Sweden’, Isis, 74 (4), 1983, 464–8.
81 Eribon, Michel Foucault, 149/85.
82 Broberg, ‘Foucault i Uppsala’, 17–18. This is supported by corre-
spondence with Dumézil on 14 September [1958]. See Eribon, Michel
Foucault et ses contemporains, 123, and for the initial description of
the role see Paul Falk to Dumézil, 11 October 1954 (Eribon, 109); Falk
to Foucault, 3 March 1955.
83 Hammarström, Memories of a Linguist, 76.
84 Hammarström, Memories of a Linguist, 76.
85 Johan Bergström, ‘Resa i förstummat Sverige’, Svenska Dagbladet, 2
August 1993, 24.
86 Hammarström, Memories of a Linguist, 77.
87 Hammarström, ‘Foucault in Uppsala’, 90.
88 Barou, ‘Il aurait pu aussi bien m’arriver tout autre chose’, 4.
89 IMEC LTR 67.1, Dossier Verdeaux et Foucault.
90 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 61; see 78–9.
252 Notes toNotes
pp. 139–140
7 Hamburg, Kant
1 Eribon, Michel Foucault, 156–7/89; Foucault to Dumézil, 18 June
[1959], DMZ 75.25.
2 See Dix années d’Institut Français: mélanges pour le dixième anniver-
saire de l’Institut Français de Hambourg, Hamburg, 1962, held at the
Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg.
3 ‘Hamburger Rundblick’, Hamburger Abendblatt, 10–11 October
1959, 4; G. Deshusses to Kulturbehörde, 22 October 1958; Ahrens to
Kulturbehörde, 15 October 1959, StAHbg 363–6 II, 1828, 48, 58.
4 ‘Ein Hauch Pariser Luft’, Hamburger Abendblatt, 1 October 1959, 11;
‘Französisch-Deutsche Woche in Hamburg’, Hamburger Abendblatt, 2
October 1959, 11.
5 Defert, Œ I, xliv; see Eribon, Michel Foucault, 158/90. Defert’s previ-
ous timeline had the contact with Hyppolite in December 1957, and
with Canguilhem over Christmas 1958, both of which are much too
early (C 21–2/23–4).
6 Hyppolite, Figures de la pensée philosophique, vol. II, 885–90.
7 Macey, The Lives of Michel Foucault, 104. See Canguilhem, ‘Qu’est-ce
que la psychologie?’, Revue de métaphysique et de morale, 63 (1),
1958, 12–25; reprinted in Études d’histoire et de philosophie des
sciences, Paris: Vrin, 1983 [1968], 365–81; trans. Howard Davies as
‘What is Psychology?’, Ideology and Consciousness 7, 1980, 37–50. It
was reprinted in Cahiers pour l’analyse 2 (1), 1966, 77–91, and read
in a quite different context, shaped by the reception of Foucault’s work
and the rise of anti-psychiatry. For a discussion, see Elden, Canguilhem,
ch. 5.
8 Élisabeth Roudinesco, Philosophy in Turbulent Times, trans. William
McCuaig, New York: Columbia University Press, 2008, 25–6.
9 Georges Canguilhem, ‘Rapport de M. Canguilhem sur le manuscrit
déposé par M. Foucault, directeur de l’Institut Français de Hambourg,
Notes toNotes
pp. 149–150 255
archaeology, use of term, 40, 42, 66, Baudelaire, Charles, 44, 46, 150
153, 173 Bayle, Pierre, 28
Archaeology of Foucault, The (Elden), Beaufret, Jean, 7, 8, 9, 10, 36, 44, 53,
1, 5, 21, 116, 164, 171, 174, 190 119, 121–2
Archaeology of Knowledge, The Becker, Oskar, 40, 95
(Foucault), 1, 5, 16, 26, 146, Beckett, Samuel, 31, 130
174, 190 Beethoven, Ludwig van, 123
Archives Nationales, 4 behaviourism, 17–18, 23, 54
Arguments series, 100 Being and Nothingness (Sartre), 103
Ariès, Philippe, 167 Being and Time (Heidegger), 8, 9, 21,
Aristotle, 8, 25, 95 34, 38, 82–3, 85, 87, 90, 118,
Arnaud, Piere, 143 120, 162
Arnauld, Antoine, 95 being-in-the-world, 42, 87, 106
Aron, Jean-Paul, 29, 45, 53, 111, 168, Bellefroid, Jacques, 192
169 Bellevue Sanatorium, 36, 37–8
Aron, Raymond, 11, 150 Belval, Yvon, 29
art, 23, 39, 120, 124, 140, 145–6, Benassy, Maurice, 31
150–1, 164, 169, 170, 177, 179, Benedict, Ruth, 45, 71
190 Benjamin, Walter, 168
Artaud, Antonin, 145, 146, 179, 181 Benserade, Isaac de, 95
Astronomical Revolution, The Berger, Gaston, 62
(Koyré), 10, 189–90 Bergson, Henri, 8, 25, 103
asylums, 50, 143–5, 146, 177–8, 186, Bergström, Johan, 137–8
191; see also hospitals Berkeley, George, 25
Aubenque, Pierre, 27 Bernanos, Georges, 128, 130
Auschwitz-Birkenau, 141 Bernard, Claude, 27, 54
Ausgewählte Vorträge und Aufsätze Bernard, Tristan, 129
(Heidegger), 87 Berne, 16
authenticity, 38, 93 Beyond Good and Evil (Nietzsche),
autism, 44 34, 117
Avenarius, Richard, 41 ‘Beyond the Pleasure Principle’
Axelos, Kostas, 9, 100, 122, 131 (Freud), 19, 46, 54
Bianquis, Geneviève, 113–14
Bachelard, Gaston, 25–6, 41, 43, 56, Bibliotheca Walleriana, 132, 135, 174
80, 95–6, 131, 171–2, 190 Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal, 4
Badiou, Alain, 11, 50 Bibliothèque du Saulchoir, 4
Baillarger, Jules, 44 Bibliothèque historique de la ville de
Balzac, Honoré de, 3, 72–3 Paris, 4
Bamberger, Jean-Pierre, 29 Bibliothèque Nationale de France
Baring, Edward, 83 (BNF), 1, 4, 12, 31, 34, 40, 51,
Barou, Jean-Pierre, 1 140
Barraqué, Jean, 6, 123–5, 127 Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, 4
Barthes, Roland, 124, 129–30, 150, Bicêtre, 72, 77, 144
168, 172 Bichat, Xavier, 54
Baruk, Henri, 172 Biemel, Walter, 10, 119
Barzilay, Aner, 115 Bifur, 83, 121
Basso, Elisabetta, 36, 37, 99, 101 Binet, Alfred, 57
Bastide, Georges, 171 Binswanger, Ludwig, 20, 29, 31, 33,
Bastille archives, 4 35–41, 44, 55, 69, 70–1, 77–8,
Bataille, Georges, 3, 11, 112–13, 114, 80–101, 108, 112, 116, 124–5,
121, 146 146, 172, 191
Index 267
Mots et les choses, Les see Order of normality, 40, 56, 63, 64–5, 149
Things, The (Foucault) Nouvelle Critique, 3, 27, 79
Mots, mythes et réalité dans la Nouvelle Revue française, 121, 172,
philosophie de Heidegger (Wahl), 189
10 Novalis, 95
Mouches, Les (Sartre), 150 Nuit et jour (Puget), 150
movement, 103, 104–6
Münsterlingen, 80, 99, 146 Oberg, Jean-Christophe, 136
Musée National d’Art Moderne, 140 obsessive behaviours, 63, 67
music, 47, 123–5, 129, 133 Oedipal complex, 45, 66, 73
Musset, Alfred de, 129 Ombredane, André, 29, 80
Mythical Thought (Cassirer), 40 ‘On Nature’ (Parmenides), 8
myths, 41, 74, 93, 129, 131, 172, 181 On Nietzsche (Bataille), 112, 114
On Paranoid Psychosis in
Napoleon, 15 Relationship to Personality
Natorp, Paul, 41 (Lacan), 18
nature, 21, 33, 103, 116 On the Genealogy of Morality
Nazism, 8, 26, 42, 101, 107–8, 113, (Nietzsche), 40, 115, 155
121–2 On the Normal and Pathological
neo-Kantianism, 36, 162 (Canguilhem), 26, 56
Nerval, Gérard de, 145, 179, 181 ‘On the Work of Art in the Age
Néry, Jean, 27 of Mechanical Reproduction’
Neue Schweizer Rundschau, 87 (Benjamin), 168
neuroses, 63–4, 66–7, 73, 74 ontology, 23, 30, 37–9, 42, 84–5,
‘Neurotic’s Individual Myth, The’ 89–90, 94, 98, 162
(Lacan), 19 Optics (Descartes), 33
New Ways in Psychoanalysis Opus Postumum (Kant), 154, 161,
(Horney), 39 168
Nicolas of Cusa, 186 Order of Things, The (Foucault), 5,
Nicolaysen, Rainer, 149–50 26, 50, 123, 124, 146, 164, 174,
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 5, 6, 8, 10, 185, 190
11, 17, 34–6, 40–1, 43, 45, 53, organic medicine, 63–4; see also
111–18, 120–5, 145–6, 155, medicine
162–3, 165, 168–70, 178, 181, organic pathology, 63–4, 76; see also
186, 190 pathology
‘Nietzsche and Christianity’ (Jaspers), Organism, The (Goldstein), 57
115 Origin of Geometry, The (Husserl),
Nietzsche et la philosophie (Deleuze), 30, 40, 43
115 ‘Overcoming Metaphysics’
‘Nietzsche, Freud, Marx’ (Foucault), (Heidegger), 34, 35
115
‘Nietzsche, Genealogy, History’ Paracelsus, 135, 146
(Foucault), 12, 115–16, 117 paranoia, 63, 67
Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist, Paris, 4, 5, 6, 7–27, 28, 30–1, 132,
Antichrist (Kaufmann), 35 134–5, 171
Nietzsche: The Will to Power as Art Paris Insitut de Psychologie, 7
(Heidegger), 10 Parmenides, 8, 27
‘Nietzsche’s Word: “God is Dead”’ Part du feu, La (Blanchot), 112
(Heidegger), 34 Partage Formel (Char), 94
Nolten, the Painter (Mörike), 82 Pascal, Blaise, 147
Nordström, Elsa, 129 Passeron, Jean-Claude, 3, 30
Index 277
psychoanalysis, 18–20, 29, 30, 36–9, 145, 176–7, 186; see also
50, 54, 66, 77, 81, 91–2, 95, Christianity; God; theology
100, 145 ‘Religious Experience in French
‘Psychologie de 1850 à 1950, La’ Literature’ (Foucault), 128, 130
(Foucault), 51, 53, 54–7, 97 ‘Remarks on Daniel Lagache’ (Lacan),
Psychologie et Métaphysique 19
(Lachelier), 25 ‘Remarques sur l’enseignement de la
psychologism, 34, 77 Phénoménologie’ (Foucault), 110
psychology Renaissance, 143, 145, 176
Foucault’s hospital and prison Resistance, 8, 134
work, 46–50, 62, 146, 191 reverie, 95–6
Foucault’s study of, 5, 17–23 Revue de métaphysique et de morale,
Foucault’s teaching of, 28–32, 10, 98
43–6, 47, 50 Revue Internationale de Philosophie,
history of, 26, 49, 51, 54–7, 77, 56, 57
166, 169 Revue philosophique de la France et
relation between research and de l’étranger, 57
practice, 59 Ribot, Théodule-Armand, 44, 54
relation to natural sciences, 54–5, Ricœur, Paul, 11, 40, 53, 110, 112,
58, 59 122, 131
psychometry, 59, 61 Riggins, Stephen, 49
psychopathology, 29, 47, 63–77, 91, rights, 72–3
147, 175–8; see also pathology Robbe-Grillet, Alain, 4, 123, 151
Psychophysique, La (Marcel Rocher, Daniel, 39, 102–6
Foucault), 57 Roncayolo, Marcel, 131
psychoses, 19, 63–4, 73 Rorschach tests, 29, 45, 47, 54, 80
Puget, Claude-André, 150 Rostock, 153
punishment, 117, 178 Roudinesco, Élisabeth, 36
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 41, 150
Racine, Jean, 95, 128, 144, 172 Rousseau, juge de Jean-Jaques
Raison, La, 45, 79 (Rousseau), 150
Rat, Maurice, 7 Roussel, Raymond, 4, 36, 145, 150,
‘Rat Man’ case study (Freud), 19 151, 172, 174, 179, 181, 190
‘Raumproblem in der Royaumont conference, 115
Psychopathologie, Das’ Royce, Josiah, 109
(Binswanger), 95 Rudloff, General von, 32
Ravel, Maurice, 129 Rümke, Henricus Cornelius, 95
Raymond Roussel (Foucault), 173–4, Ryziński, Remigiusz, 139–40, 141,
185 142–3
Razenkov, Ivan Petrovich, 79
réalité humain, 34, 83, 119 Sabot, Philippe, 29, 36, 40, 43, 127
Rebeyrol, Philippe, 139, 148 Sade, Marquis de, 4, 128, 146
‘Recherche scientifique et la Saguer, Louis, 123
psychologie, La’ (Foucault), 53, Saint-Exupéry, Antoine de, 151
57–62, 97 Samoyault, Tiphaine, 129–30
reflexes, 26, 75, 79, 131, 175, Sarraute, Nathalie, 129
181 Sartre, Jean-Paul, 9, 11, 16, 23, 37,
Reflexionen zur Anthropologie (Kant), 42, 44, 46, 57, 84, 93, 95, 98,
153, 168 101, 103–4, 112–13, 119, 121–2,
regression, 66–7, 73–4 129, 149–50
religion, 33, 34, 72, 74, 128, 130, Saussure, Ferdinand de, 22
Index 279
theology, 16, 30, 32, 33; see also 96–100, 127, 134–5, 146, 164–5,
religion 172
Thing and Space (Husserl), 46 Verne, Jules, 4
Three Dialogues (Berkeley), 25 Verret, Michel, 27
Thus Spoke Zarathustra (Nietzsche), Veyne, Paul, 30, 113
115, 125 Vichy regime, 134
Times Literary Supplement, 172 Victor, Paul-Émile, 150
Titres et travaux scientifiques (Paul Vilar, Jean, 130
Foucault), 3 Vincennes, 116, 117
Totem and Taboo (Freud), 54 Virgil, 62
Traité de Métaphysique (Wahl), 10 Visible and the Invisible, The
Traité de psychologie (Pradines), 56 (Merleau-Ponty), 23
transcendental philosophy, 12–16, Volk im Werden, 107
161–2 Voltaire, 125, 150
Treatise of Human Nature, A (Hume), voluntary internment, 73
25 von Uexküll, Jakob, 39, 87, 103, 105
Trombadori, Duccio, 21 von Weizsäcker, Carl Freidrich, 101
truth, 9, 15, 34, 116, 117–18, 163, von Weizsäcker, Ernst, 101
181, 189–90 von Weizsäcker, Richard, 101
Tuke, William, 144–5, 146, 178 von Weizsäcker, Viktor, 2, 5, 38, 39,
Tunisia, 1, 4, 43, 109, 124 51, 101–8, 126
Twilight of the Idols (Nietzsche), Foucault and Rocher’s translation,
34 2, 5, 39, 51, 101–8, 126
Vorträge und Aufsätze (Heidegger),
Über Ideenflucht (Binswanger), 37, 34, 35, 119–20
69, 81 Vuillemin, Jules, 29, 34, 35, 121,
Ubu Roi (Jarry), 139 171
Umwelt, 38–9, 70, 87, 104–5
unconscious, 58, 59–60 Wagner, Richard, 123
Union Générale d’Éditions, 185 Wahl, Jean, 6, 7, 8–11, 13, 16, 21,
United States, 10–11, 42, 109–10 109, 112, 113, 114, 115, 118,
University of California Press, 184 120–1, 122
Untimely Meditations (Nietzsche), Waiting for Godot (Beckett), 31
113–14 Waller, Erik, 132, 135
Uppsala, 3, 4, 5–6, 62, 100, 102, 114, Wallon, Henri, 67
122, 126–39, 191 Wandlungen in der Auffassung
Urban, Suzanne, 99, 102 und Deutung des Traumes
(Binswanger), 82
van Breda, Herman, 42 war, 74, 75
van Gogh, Vincent, 145 Warburg, Aby, 36
‘Variations on the Standard Warsaw, 3, 4, 6, 139–43, 165, 191
Treatment’ (Lacan), 19 Was heißt Denken/What is Called
Vatulescu, Cristina, 140, 142 Thinking? (Heidegger), 34, 35,
Velázquez, Diego, 124 120
Vendeuvre-du-Poitou (Foucault family Watson, John B., 58
home), 3, 5 Weber, Alfred, 53, 62, 126
venereal disease, 143–4, 177, 186 Weber, Jean-Paul, 172
Verdeaux, Georges, 20, 47, 80, 98–9, Webern, Anton, 123
100, 127, 146 West, Ellen, 37–8, 70, 93
Verdeaux, Jacqueline, 20, 26, 29, ‘What is an Author?’ (Foucault), 9
37, 39, 47–8, 61, 68, 80–8, 93, ‘What is Critique?’ (Foucault), 8
Index 281
‘What is Metaphysics?’ (Heidegger), world, 10, 13–14, 23, 42, 70–1, 74,
83, 85, 119, 121 87, 111, 127, 159
‘What is Philosophy?’ (Heidegger), World as Will and Representation,
122 The (Schopenhauer), 25
‘What is Psychology?’ (Canguilhem), Wundt, Wilhelm, 41
148 Wyrsch, Jakob, 36, 80–1
Whitebook, Joel, 31
‘Who is Nietzsche’s Zarathustra?’ York Retreat, 144
(Heidegger), 34, 35
Wichart, Heinrich, 32 Zambelli, Paola, 121
Wick, Armin, 150 Zeitbewusstseins (Husserl), 42
Will to Power, The (Nietzsche), 34 Zemb, Jean-Marie, 151
Williams, Forrest, 97–8 Zollikon seminars, 37
‘Wolf Man’ case study (Freud), 19, 46 Zünd, Jürg, 37, 69