Deleuze: A Critical Reader

ill�li .

BLACKWELL CRITICAL READERS Blackwell's en't ical Readers series presents a collection of linked per­ spectives on continental philosophers. social and cultural theorists. Edited and introduced by acknowledged experts and written by repre­ sentatives of different schools and positions, the series embodies debate, dissent and a committed heterodoxy. From Foucault to Der­ rida. from Heidegger to Nietzsche, Blackwell en"tical Readers address figures whose work requires elucidation by a variety of perspectives. Volumes in the series include both primary and secondary biblio­ graphies. David Wood: Dem"da: A Critical Reader Hubert Dreyfus and Harrison Hall: Heidegger: A Critical Reader Gregory Elliot: Althusser: A en"tical Reader Douglas Kellner: Baudrillard: A en"tical Reader Peter Sedgwick: Nietzsche: A Critical Reader Lewis R. Gordon. T. Oenean Sharpley·Whiting and Renee T. White: Fanon: A Critical Reader Paul Patton: Dekuze: A Cn'cical Reader Fred Botting and Scott Wilson: Bataille: A Cn·tical Reader

•

Deleuze:

A Critical Reader Edited by Paul Patton

I] BLACKWELL

Copyright C Blackwell Publishers Ltd 1996 First published 1996 Reprinted 1997 Blackwell Publishers Ltd 108 Cowley Road Oxford OX4 UF, UK Blackwell Publishers Inc 350 Main Street Malden, Massachusetts 02148, USA All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purposes 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. Exccpt in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form orbinding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library a/Congress Ca/aloging in Publication Dala Deleuze: a critical reader/edited by Paul Pallon p.

cm. - (Blackwell critical readers)

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 1-55786-564-7 (hardcover. alk. paper) ISBN 1-55786-565-5 (pbk: alk. paper) I. Deleuze, Giles. I. Series. 1996 96-5380

B2430.04540395 I 94-dc20

CIP

Typeset in lOon 12pt Plantin by Pure Tech India Ltd., Pondicherry, India Printed and bound in Great Britain by Harlnolls Lid, Bodmin, Cornwall This book is printed on acid-free paper

In

Memory of Gilles Deleuze 1925-1995

Contents

Contributors Acknowh=dgements

Paul Patton: Introduction 2

Jean-Clee Martin: The Eye of the Outside

3

Daniel W. Smith: Deleuze's Theory of Sensation: Overcoming the Kantian Duality

4 Jean-Michel Salanskis: Idea and Destination 5

Constantin V. Boundas: Deleuze-Bergson: an Ontology of the Virtual

viii xi 1

18 29 57 81

6

Jean-Luc Nancy: The Deleuzian Fold of Thought

107

7

Catherine Malabou: Who's Afraid of Hegelian Wolves?

114

8

PierTt Macherey. The Encounter with Spinoza

139

9

Moira Gatens: Through a Spinozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

10 "

12

13 14

Franfois Zourabichvili: Six Notes on the Percept

162

(On the Relation between the Critical and the Clinical)

188

Brian Manum": The Autonomy of Affect

217

Eugene W. HoUand: Schizoanalysis and Baudelaire: Some Illustrations of Dec oding at Work

240

Ronald Bogue: Gilles Deleuze: The Aesthetics of Force

257

Timothy S. Murphy: Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze

Index

-

270 299

Contributors

Ronald Bogue is Professor of Comparative Literature at the Univer­

sity of Georgia. His publications include De/euze and Guatto"' and Mimesis in Contemporary Theory: An Interdisciplinary Approach, Volume Two: Mimesis. Semiosis and Power (ed.); The Play of the Self (co-editor, with Mihai Spariosu), and Violence and Mediation in Contemporary Culture (co-editor, with Marcel Comis-Pope). He has also written on eighteenth-century aesthetics, posnnodern fiction, cinema, and death metal music. Constantin V. Boundas is Associate Professor of Philosophy at

Trent University, Canada. He edited Deleuze's The Logic of Sense and translated Empincum and Subjectivity. He has also edited The De/euze

Reader and (with Dorothea Olkowski) Gilles De/euze and the Theater 0/ Philosophy. He is presently translating Van'atio1/S: La philosophie lk G iDes De/euze by Jean-Clet Martin. Moira Gatens teaches Philosophy at the University of Sydney. She

has published Feminism and Philosophy: Perspectives on Difference and Equality. Imaginary Bodies: Ethics. Power. Corporeality and numerous articles on philosophy, feminism and social theory. Eugene W. Holland teaches French and Comparative Studies at the

Ohio State University. He has published widely on Deleuze and Guattari, critical theory, and modern French literature and culture. His books include Baulklaire and Sch izoa"alysis and a fonhcoming book on schizoanalysis. Pierre Macherey is Professor and Director of the Depanment of

Philosophy at the University of Lille III. His works translated into

English include A Theory of Literary Production and The Object of Lireratllre. He is also the author of Hegel ou Spinoza; Cornu-La philo­

sophie er Ies sciences, Avec Spinoza, and L 'Ethique V. Catherine Malabou is Maitre de Conferences at the University of

Paris X-Nanterre. She has published numerous articles on the work of Hegel and Derrida, including 'La plastique speculative', in Philosophie,

no. 19 and an annotated translation of the 1830 Preface to Hegel's

Science of Logic in Philosophie, no. 26. She is responsible for the 'Derrida' special issue of the Revue Phi/osophique, June 1990. Her

doctoral thesis, entitled 'L'avenir de Hegel. Plasticiu!, temporalite, dialectique' and supervised by Derrida, will be published shortly. Jean-Clet Martin studied with Deleuze at the University of Paris­ VIII. He is the author of Van'alions: La philosophie

de Gilles Deleuze and

Ossuaires: Anatomie du Moyen Age.

Brian Massumi holds a research position at the English Department

of the University of Queensland. He is the author of User's Guide to

Capitalism and Schizophrenia: Deviations from Deleuze and Guattari and First and Last Emperors: The Body of the Despot and the Absolute Scate (with Kenneth Dean). He has also edited The Politics of Everyday Fear and has translated numerous works from the French, including De­ leuze and Guattari's A Thousand Plateaw. Timothy S. Murphy is lecturer in American literature and literary

theory at UCLA, where he completed his doctorate in 1994 with a dissertation on Gilles Deleuze and William S. Burroughs. He has published essays on Deleuze, Burroughs, Toni Negri and Michel Toumier, and is presently completing a book on Deleuze's work in the context of scientific, political and aesthetic practice. Jean-Luc Nancy is Professor and Director of the Department of

Philosophy at the University of the Human Sciences at Strasbourg. Among his works translated into English are The Literary Absolute: The

Theory of Literature in Gennan Romanticism (with Philippe Lacoue­ L.abanbe); The Inoperative Community; The Title of the Letter: A Reading of Lacan (with Philippe Lacoue-Labanbe); The Binh to Presence; and The Experience ofFreedom.

Paul

Patton

teaches Philosophy

at the University of Sydney.

He translated Deleuze's DIfference and Repetition and has published

x

Contributors

several articles on Deleuze and other French philosophers. He also edited Nietzsche. Feminism and Political Theory. Jean-Michel Salanskis is Professor of Logic and Epistemology at the University of Ulle In. His pUblications in the philosophy of math·

ematie! include Uhermeneun'que /ormeiJe, and (edited with H. Sina­ ceur) fA

LtJbyn'mhe du Conn'nu.

His published articles include 'Die

Wissenschaft denkt nieht', Revue de Metaphysique et de Morale, 1991 and 'Systematisation el depossession, en mode analytique au con­ tinental', Revue de Meto.physique et de Morale, 1995. Daniel W. Smith is a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Chicago. He has translated Deleuze's Francis B(lC(}n: 17u Logic of Sensation and Essays Critical and ChnicaJ (with Michael A. Greeo), as well as Pierre Klossowski's Nietzsche and flu Vicious Circ:Je.

Fran�ois Zourabichvill teaches philosophy in a Paris Lycee and at the College lnternationale de Philosophie. He is the author of Deleuze:

Une phiJosophie de /'ivenement.

Acknowledgements

The editor and publishers gratefully acknowledge the following for permission to reproduce copyright material: Ronald Bogue, 'Gilles Deleuze: The Aesthetics of Force', reprinted from the Journal of the Bn'risk Society for Phenomenology, vol. 24, no. 1, January 1993, pp. 56-65, by permission af the publisher. Brian Massumi, 'The Autonomy of Affect', reprinted from Cultural

Cr itique, no. 31, Fall 1995, pp. 83-109, by permission aCthe publisher. The publishers apologize for any errors or omissions in the above list

and would be gratefu1 to be notified of any corrections that should be

incorporated in the next edition or reprint of this book.

1

Introduction Paul Patton

Gilles Deleuze is best known for his collaborative work written with Felix Guanari. Anti-Oedipus. Kafka, A Thousand Plateaus and Whac is Philosophy? are extraordinary texts in their own right. but they are also singular components of one of this century's truly audacious experi­ ments in thought. They constitute successive moments within a single thought-event, variations upon a unique intuition and exemplars of a novel concept of philosophy. In an interview which accompanied the publication of A Thousand Plateaus, Deleuze described this book as 'philosophy, nothing but philosophy, in the traditional sense of the word'. 1 However, as he and Guanari explain in What is Philosophy? the underlying conception of philosophy is far from traditional. In their view, the job of philosophers is to create new concepts, but philosop­ hical concepts do not provide a truth which is independent of the plane of immanence upon which they are constructed. Rather, such concepts are the expression of thought, in a sense which owes much to Nietzsche, Heidegger and Blanchot. Deleuze accepts Nietzsche's view that thought is a matter of creation, and that far from defining thought in relation to truth, truth must be regarded 'as solely the creation of thought' Despite the modernism of this position, Deleuze remains an anom­ alous figure within the contemporary philosophical landscape. He was never tempted by the idea of the death of philosophy or the overcom­ ing of metaphysics. Jean-Luc Nancy points to the lack of sympathy with Hegel and Heidegger as indicative of the deep fold which separ­ ates Deleuze's orientation from his own. Unlike many of his contem­ Poraries, Deleuze remained committed to the classical idea of philosophy as a system. The novelty of Deleuzian thought does not lie in its refusal of any systematic character but in the nature of the system .1

2

Paul Parton

envisaged. In a 1980 interview, he claimed that 'systems have in fact

lost absolutely none of their power.All the groundwork for a theory of

so-called open systems is in place in current science and logic' ...l A

Thousand Plateaus provides an example of such an open system. It does

not advocate an intellectual anarchism in which the only rule would be the avoidance of any rule. It deploys variable. local rules in order to construct a bewildering array of concepts such as assemblage, deterri­ torialization, order-word, faciality, ritomello, nomadism and different kinds of becoming. The successive plateaus each develop a particular assemblage of concepts in relation to a given subject matter. The conceptual architecture of this book obeys a logic of multiplicities in which the same concepts recur, but always in different relations to

other concepts such that their nature in tum is transfonned. In his

comprehensive discussion of Deleuze's relation to Bergson, Constan­ tin Boundas comments on this concept of intensive multiplicity.

In an interview published shonly after his death, Deleuze com­

mented that A Thousand Plateaus was the best book he had written, alone or with Guattari.4 It remains a book whose time has not yet come, its conceptual riches largely unexploited. Several of the essays included in this collection point to the transfonnative power of its concepts. Moira Gatens explores the Deleuze-Spinoza concept of

bodies and suggests the usefulness of this ethology for feminist theory and politics. She also suggests the interest of the pragmatics of lan­ guage outlined in A Thousand Plateaus with regard to the role of language in sexual violence. The essay by Brian Massumi argues that a Deleuzian concept of affect may prove fruitful. in the field of media and cultural studies. Eugene �ol1and demonstrates the literary critical potential of the schizoanalY§i s developed in Ami-Oedipus, by applying

,� In the process, he indicates some of the

it to the work of Baudel i

conceptual transfonnatjOns wrought upon schizoanalysis in A Thou­

sand Plateaus. Perhaps even less understood than the concepts and structure of A Thousand Plateaus are the profound connections between this ex­ perimental work and Deleuze's earlier studies in the history of philo­

sophy. A primary focus of several of the essays in this collection is Deleuze's complex relations to some of the figures with whom and

against whom his own philosophical system was constructed: in par­ ticular Spinoza, Kant, Hegel and Bergson. In order to illustrate some features of Deleuze's use of the history of philosophy, I comment

below on aspects of his relations to Kant. Throughout Deleuze's historical work, a remarkable consistency emerges not only with re­ gard to the method, but also with regard to the underlying conception

buroduClion

3

of philosophy. Pierre Macherey points out that Deleuze had already argu ed in Expressionism in Philosophy: Spinoza that 'a philosophy's power is measured by the concepts it creates, or whose meaning it aiters, concepts that impose a new set of divisions on things and actions'.' He goes on to argue that the concept of expressionism expounded in this book is as much Deleuze's own invention as it is Spinoza' s. On the one hand, Macherey suggests, a concept of expres­

sion did enable Spinoza to conceptualize the power and actuality of a

positive infinity. On the other, the concept of expression expounded by Deleuze involves components 'foreign' to Spinoza's thought, such as the distinction between numerical and real distinction drawn from Duns Scotus. This concept of expression allows Deleuze to compare and contrast Spinoza and Leibniz as

twin poles of a generalized

anti-Canesian reaction. We encounter here the dual and paradoxical relation which characterizes

all of Deleuze's accounts of other philo­

sophers, and which involves both faithful rendering and deliberate

forcing of the original text. Reflecting upon this manner of perverting the institutional norms of the history of philosophy, Deleuze suggested that it involved a doubling of the original text in a manner which subjects it to maximal modification: repetition and differentiation.' As Frant;ois Zourabichvili suggests, this may be regarded as a form of free indirect discourse, a re-statement which transforms the sense of what has already been said. The point of doing so is not just to deconstruct the thought of other philosophers, but to create new concepts. Deleuze was a pioneer of the deconstructive technique of reading philosophical texts against themselves. His demonstration that the means to overturn Platonism are provided by Plato himself was first published in 1967.7 However, he always combined such critical read­ ing with conceptual construction and systematisation. He employed this technique to produce among other things an anti-Platonist Plato, a systematic Nietzsche, and Kantian foundations for a transcendental empiricism. His reconstruction of a Nietzschean metaphysics of will to POwer in

Nielzsche and Philosophy in 1962

is widely credited with

haying inaugurated the contemporary French philosophical enthusi­ asm for Nietzsche.

In the pivotal third chapter of Difference and RefH­

tiriml, he argues both that Kant reproduces aspects of a dogmatic

image of thought which takes recognition as its model, and that he

Points the way to a non-representational and nomadic conception of thought. Nomad thought rejects above all the ideal of philosophy as a closed system. For this reason, throughout his work Deleuze remains res olutely opposed to one systematic thinker: 'What I most dete9ted Was

Hegelianism

and

dialectics.'!

However,

as

both Catherine

4

Paul Parron

Malabou and Jean-Michel Salanskis point out, this antipathy does not exclude a certain proximity to Hegelian themes. Malabou's essay challenges Deleuze's reductive treatment of Hegel and succeeds in introducing what Derrida calls '3 few wolves of the type "indecida­ biliry'"

into the relation between Deleuze and his philosophical

nemesis.9 We had never stopped asking this question pretJious/y, and

w.!

already had the

answer, which has not changed: philosophy is the an 0/jonning, infJenting and fabricating concepu.

10

In W'hat is Philosophy? 'concept' is a technical tenn which serves to distinguish philosophy from science and art. Science aims at the representation of states of affairs by means of mathematical or pro­ positional functions, while art does not aim at representation but at the capture and expression of particular perceptions and affections or 'blocks of sensation'. In contrast to scientific functions and theories,

philosophical concepts like works ofart do not refer to objects or states of affairs outside themselves. They are autopoetic entities, defined not

\

by their referential relations to things or states of affairs but by the relations between their elements as well as thlir relations to other concepts. As Deleuze and Guattari assert,

�concept 'has no refer­

ence: it is self-referential. it posits itself an its object at the same time as it is created'. II On their view, the obj

t of a philosophical concept

is always an event. I comment further below on this internal relation between concepts and events. Concepts as they define them are complex singularities. multi­ plicities whose self-identity is established by means of a certain 'com­ munication' between their components. For example, the three components of the Cartesian Cogito - the doubting I, the thinking 1 and the existent I - are like so many intensive ordinates arranged in 'zones of neighbourhood or indiscemibility that produce passages from one to the other and constitute their inseparability' .12 The claim that among its ideas the self has an idea of infinity provides a link to the idea of an infinite being and thus to the concept of God. Along this path. the subject certain of its own existence is transfonned into one assured of the veracity of all its clear and distinct ideas. Concepts thus enjoy a range of virtual relations with other concepts which constitute their 'becoming'. Deleuze and Guanan devote a section ofA Thou$(Hld

Plateaus to the analysis of 'becomings'. Here, the tenn refers to the particular paths along which a concept might be transfonned into something else. These derive from the manner in which components

Inlroduction

5

of a given concept enter into zones of indiscernibility with other conceptS. In addition, concepts may have a history as components of other concepts and in relation to other problems. For example, in Expressio",'sm i" Philosophy: Spinoza, Deleuze finds two distinct sour­ ces of the concept of expression, one in the ontological and theological traditions of thought relating to creation and the emanation of God, and another in the logical tradition of thought relating to what is expressed in propositions.1l Several of the essays in this collection point to the internal connec­ tions between Deleuze's philosophy and his writings on literature, painting and the cinema, among them those by Zourabichvili, Jean­ Clet Martin, and Ronald Bogue. As Nancy points out, Deleuze's interest in the cinema is more than just an application or addendum of his philosophy but central to it: 'the word "concept" means this for Deleuze - making cinematic' (p. 110). In tenns of the definition given

l sophy? a philosophical concept has more in common in W'hat is Phio with a film or a piece of music than it does with a demonstrative statement. A film does not exist apart from its components (its shots, sequences, assemblages of sound and image), and like a concept it changes nature if one of the components is altered. A film also creates its own universe: it has a plane of consistency, characters and a style of composition which are like so many intensive features of the film as a whole. Deleuzian concepts are also intensive mUltiplicities which do not represent anything. Deleuze and Guattari could as well be describ­ ing a film or a piece of music when they say that a concept is the intensive and variable unity of all its components, or that it is like 'the point of coincidence, condensation or accumulation of its own com­ ponents'.14 It follows from this account that philosophy does not produce knowledge in the manner of science, any more than it produces sensation or affects in the manner of an. Philosophy is not a referential discourse in the same manner as the sciences. Deleuze and Guattan also draw the conclusion that the criticism of one philosophical con­ cept from the standpoint of another is a futile exercise. There is no point in arguing whether Descartes was right or wrong. Cartesian concepts can only be assessed as a function of their problems and the manner of their construction: 'a concept always has the truth that falls

to it

as a function of the conditions of its creation'. I S This does not

mean that criticism has no place in philosophy: it simply rules out a certain kind of dogmatic criticism. Nevertheless, the question arises, just what purpose is served by the creation of such concepts. At the beginning of What is Philosophy?, Deleuze and GU8t1ari propose an

6

Paul Patton

unequivocal definition of philosophy as 'knowledge through pure con­ cepts'. Later, they insist that 'philosophy does not consist in knowing and is not inspired by truth'. 16 If philosophy does not consist in knowing and does not provide objective truth then what does it do? The answer to this question exposes another significant continuity throughout Deleuze's earlier work: he has always maintained a rigor­ ous distinction between knowledge, understood as the recognition of truths or the solution of problems, and thinking understood as the creation of concepts or the determination of problems. For Deleuze, philosophy is one Conn of thinking alongside others. The fact that it creates concepts gives it no preeminence in relation to science or art, but it does imply a distinction between thinking and

knowing. The creation of concepts takes place only by means of the determination of problems, and only on the basis of a plane or set of

pre-philosophical presuppositions which Deleuze and Guanari call the plane of immanence or the 'image of thought: the image thought gives itself of what it means to think'.17 Distinct images of thought may be defined by reference to the presuppositions which define the nature of

)

thought. These do not refer to its empirical character but to the nature

of thought in principle. Thus. in the case of Descanes. the presuppo-

:"-;;

sitions which structure what he understands by thinking and which

t

underpin the Cogito are those of a classical or 'dogmatic' im

r

thought. Among these presuppositions we find the concep ' n of thought as a natural human capacity, possessed of a good will and an upright nature. Thought is supposed to have a natural affinity with the

truth, such that it is error and not right thinking which needs [0 be

explained. Of panicular imponance for Deleuze's critique of the dog-. matic image is his claim that it takes its model from acts of recogni­ tion: good morning Theaetetus, this is a piece of wax, etc. The model of recognition,

he argues.

dominates the history of philosophy:'

TheaetelUs, Descanes' Meditations or Critique of Pure Reason. this model remains sovereign and

'whether one considers Plato's Kant's

defines the orientation of the philosophical analysis of what it means to think'.18 In effect, this image involves a model of thinking which tends to collapse the distinction between thinking and knowing. A recurrent concern throughout Deleuze's work, from Proust and Signs to What is Philosophy? via Nietzsche and Philosophy and Dif f erence and Repetiti01J, is the critique of this classical image and the attempt to constitute a new image of thought. Chapter Three of Difference and Repetition, provides the most developed analysis along with the outline of an alternative image of thought as creative and 'problematic'. In his retrospective comments on this book, Deleuze singles out this chapter

Introduction

7

as the most important with respect to his subsequent practice of philosophy, describing it as 'the most necessary and the most con­ crete', and as the one which 'serves to introduce subsequent books up to and including the research undertaken with Guanari where we invoked a vegetal model of thought: the rhizome in opposition to the tree'. 19 ... the qllestion 0/ when and to what extent philosophers art "disciples" 0/ another phio l sopher and, on the contrary. when they an canying out

a

critique 0/ another philtnopher by changing the plane and drawing up another

image infJOlves aU the more complex and relaliw asseSJments because the

concepts that come to occupy a plant can never Iu simply tkductd.�o

For Deleuze, the classical image of thought is a profound betrayal of what it means to think. His fundamental objection is that it sustains a complacent conception of thought which is incapable of criticizing established values. Kant is his prime example of a thinker who pro­ posed an all-encompassing critique but who in the end proved inca­ pable of questioning the value of knowledge, faith or morality. In

Nie tzsche and Philosophy, he had already contrasted Kantian critique with Nietzsche's untimely thought: 'There has never been a more conciliatory or respectful total critique.'11 Yet in Difference and Repeti­ tion, Deleuze develops his alternative account of the transcendental conditions of thought with reference to Kant's theory of the faculties.

Indeed, Deleuze's own problematic image of thought draws heavily upon Kant's conception of reason. The articles by Salanskis and Daniel Smith show the extent to which Deleuze proceeds along Kantian lines in sketching a genetic account of thought and experience. Without suggesting that Kant is Deleuzc's only significant interlocutor, it may nevertheless be useful to outline some of the detail of Deleuze's

engagement with Kant in Difference and Repetition, both to illustrate

his manner of reading Kant against himself and to situate the distinc­ tion between thought and knowledge which informs his conception of philosophy.

Recognition is defined by the harmonious exercise of the different faculties in relation to the different representations (sensible, intellec­ tual, memorial, etc.) of a single object. The model of recognition therefore implies a further presupposition, namely that of an under­

�Ying agreement among the faculties themselves. Typically, this accord IS

grounde d in the unity of the thinking subject: 'For Kant as for Descartes, it is the identity of the Self in the "I think" which grounds

the harmony of all the faculties and their agreement on the form of a

8

Paul Patton

supposed Same object. on In the C,;liq� of Judgment, Kant explicitly identifies this presumption of accord among the faculties in tenns of the existence of a 'common sense': he argues that the existence of an aesthetic common sense is required in order to account for the com­ municability and the presumption of universality which characterize judgments of beauty. Deleuze suggests that the idea of such a common sense, defined as an a priori accord under the governance of one faculty, is implicit throughout the preceding Critiques. Kant 'multi­ plies common senses', creating as many as there are 'interests of reason'.HIo the Critique 0/ Pure Reason, it is the imagination, under­ standing and reason which collaborate under the authority of the understanding to form B.n epistemological common sense, while in the Critique 0/ Practical Reason it is reason which legislates, The values of knowledge, morality and beauty are thus presupposed by the terms of Kantian critique, Claims to knowledge, moral judgment or aesthetic value may be called into question, but not knowledge, morality or aesthetic value themselves, In his 1963 book Kant's Cn'tical Philosophy, and in his anicle pub­ lished in the same year, 'L'ldee de genese dans I'esthetique de Kanr',� Deleuze presents the presumption of accord among the faculties as problem which Kant goes some way towards solving in the Critique 0/ Judgment, He argues that Kant's account of the sublime retraces e emergence of an accord between the faculties of imagination and reason, and suggests that this may serve as a model for genetic ac­ counts of other such accords,By contrast, in Difference and RePtritjon, Deleuze proposes an account of the transcendental operation of the faculties which rejects the harmonious accord implied by the recogni:­ tion model. Here he offers a different interpretation of Kant's sublime as pointing towards a conception of the faculties freed from subjection to any common sense, where what is engendered is thought itself.15 Dcleuze objects that recognition offers a timid conception of thought which draws its exemplars from among the most banal acts of everyday thinking: 'this is a table, this is an apple , , , good morning Theaetetus , ,,who can believe that the destiny of thought is at stake in these acts , , , ?,U When he points out that Kant's First Edition of the Critique 0/ Pure Reason derives a model of the transcendental conditions of judg­ ment by simply tracing this from a psychological theory of the oper­ ation of the faculties in cases of recognition, his objection is less to the procedure than to the panicular operations which provide Kant with his paradigm, For Dcleuze, it is not the reassuring familiarity of encounters with the known which should provide a paradigm of think­ ing, but the hesitant gestures which accompany our encounters with

Introduction

9

the unknown: for example, those of the subject of contradictory per­ ceptions which, as Plato says, 'provoke thought to reconsideration', or those of the novice athlete attempting to coordinate his or her bodily movement with a greater force.l1lt is from such acts of apprenticeship, Oeleuze argues, that we must derive the transcendental conditions of thought. Deleuze'S objection to the recognition model is therefore normative.

He does not deny that recognition occurs and that the faculties may be employed therein. Rather, he wants to retain the name of thinking for f rent activity, namely that which takes place when the mind is a dife provoked by an encounter with the unknown or the unfamiliar. Ap­ prenticeship or learning is opposed to recognition at every point: it is not the application of a method, but rather an involuntary activity.

Following Nietzsche, Deleuze proposes to understand thought as a human capacity which has developed, not of its own accord or as a result of its own goodwill but as the effect of a necessity or culture imposed from without: 'something in the world forces us to think'. U

Notwithstanding this originary violence, thought is essentially creative

and critical: it embodies the potential to controvert all received ideas

along with established values. That is why, in

Whal is Philosophy?,

thinking is described as a form of absolute deterritorialization.. Philo­ sophy understood as the creation of concepts goes beyond the mere recognition of existing opinions, states of affairs and forms of life. It has the potential to remain untimely in Nietzsche's sense of that term: 'acting counter to our time, and therefore acting on our time and, let us hope, for the benefit of a time to come'.:Ii Deleuze's alternative image of thought in Difference and Repetitio'l relies upon a neo-Kantian theory of sensibility. In his lucid exposition of this theory, Smith describes the special kinds of sensation which Deleuze calls signs and which provoke the mind to further action,

arousing a memory, an image or the awareness of a problem. In terms

of this theory, each of the faculties encounters its own transcendental object in the sense that this is something peculiar to the faculty in

question and not, as supposed by the model of recognition, something accessible to other faculties. These transcendent objects are not out­ side or beyond the experiential world but immanent to the domain of a given faculty. They are the essence of that which is asped by each faculty: the being of the sensible, the rememberable, the imaginable or

gr

the thinkable. In each case, Deleuze defines these transcendental objects as differential: they are states of 'free or untamed difference' .

lOus, objects of pure sensibility or signs are defined in terms of differences in intensity; objects of pure memory are defined in terms

10

Paul Patton

of temporal difference; objects of pure or transcendental imagination are phantasms or simulacra; finally, objects of pure thought are Ideas or problems, where these are understood as structures defined by the reciprocal relations between their differential elements. For Deleuze, it is problems or Ideas which are the specific objects of thought: they are that which can only be thought, yet remain in them­ selves empirically unthinkable. Problems are accessible to thought only by way of their panicuiar conceptually determined forms.

In opposition

to the traditional view which defines problems in terms of the poss­ ibility of finding solutions, and which sees truth as essentially proposi­ tional and prior to problems, Deleuze argues that problems must be regarded as the source of all truths: 'problems are the differential elements in thought, the genetic elements in the true'.30 He invokes Kant's conception of Transcendental Ideas in suggesting that problems must be understood not simply as questions to which thought provides answers but as the underlying and unanswerable questions which gov­ ern the production of knowledge in a given domain. Kant, he reminds us, refers to Ideas as 'problems to which there is no solution'.11 How­ ever, Deleuzian Ideas are structures as well as problems. Deleuze also invokes mathematical notions and contemporary structuralism in de­ scribing Ideas as multiplicities defined by the internal relations between differential elements.

In this regard, Salanskis points to the

importance

of Albert Lautmann's conception of problems as immanent and tran­ scendent within a given mathematical field. Kant's distinction between reason and understanding may be re­ garded as a prototype of the distinction between thought and know­ ledge in modern philosophy. For Kant, the understanding provides knowledge of objects while reason concerns itself with the conditions of any given conditioned. Since knowledge is itself conditioned by syntheses of the imagination and understanding, it follows that reason can think through these pre-objective syntheses. In general, it migllt be argued that Deleuze redistributes Kant's faculties of understanding and reason on either side of the opposition between the dogmatic image and his own generative or productive conception of thought. On the one hand, in his account of the logical common sense presupposed by the operation of the faculties in the

Cn·lique of Pure Reason,

he

suggests that reason is subordinate to the understanding and thus to the model of recognition. On the other hand, he draws upon Kant'S conception of reason in formulating his own problematic conception of thought. However, it is open to argument whether Deleuze is simply highlighting an ambivalence that already exists in Kant. or whether he simply underestimates the role of reason in suggesting that the idea of

Introduction

11

an epistemological common sense implies the subordination of the facultY of reason to the facultY of under.ltanding. For every passage in \�'hich Kant suggests that the function of reason is dependent upon that of the under.ltanding, there is another in which he insists that rcason is indispensable for obtaining systematic theoretical know­ ledge. In the absence of the regulative principles and maxims of reason, Kant says, the understanding would provide no more than a 'mere contingent aggregate' of propositions. The law of reason which requires us to seek unity in nature is a necessary law without which there would be no reason and 'without reason no coherent employ­ ment of the understanding, and in the absence of this no sufficient criterion of empirical truth'.l2 Recent Kant scholarship has tended to play down the differences between the faculties, suggesting that these are best understood simply as distinct capacities of the mind. There is also widespread support for a minimalist interpretation of the results of Kant's argument in the Analytic, which suggests that what is established is litde more than the most general conditions necessary for knowledge of objects. Thus, the Second Analogy establishes that events have antecedent causes, but not any particular causal laws. What the under.ltanding alone produces corresponds to the simplistic statement by statement con­ ception of knowledge which Deleuze associates with the dogmatic image of thought. 'l However, if we take into account the role of the principles and maxims of reason in generating systematic knowledge, then Kant's conception of thought begins to accord less with the dogmatic image and more with Deleuze's own conception of thought as the systematic production of concepts. It remains nonetheless that, for Kant, the field of knowledge is bounded by the Transcendental Ideas which stake out the forms of completeness in the order of conditions. For Deleuze's transcendental empiricism, the field of such Ideas is unbounded. As Boundas and Smith point out, the concept of Ideas developed here is a complex singularity of Deleuze's own invention, drawing upon aspects of Leib­ niz, Maimon and Bergson as well as Kant. Thought is the exploration of Ideas or problems which may be thrown up by history, social life or the development of particular sciences. There is no a priori limit to the Ideas or problems which thought may seek to determine: as a resuit, Deleuze's transcendental realm is answerable to a 'superior empiri­ Cism' . The transcendental empiricism outlined in Difference and Repe­ tilion implies a conception of thought as open-ended and bounded only by the hiswrically variable set of problems with which it engages at any given time.

12

Paul PatWn The concept is obfJious/y knowkdge - but knowledge of jlStl/, and what it knows is Ute pure event, which mlW /lot be confused with the starl 0/ affairs in which it is embodied. The uuk of philosophy when it creatu conuplS, entities, is always to extract an lVlnt from things and beings .34 .

.

In What is Philosophy? philosophy is no longer described as the (em­ pirical transcendental) search for Ideas but as the creation of concepts, where concepts provide knowledge of events. Although the event is only a minor concern in Dijferenu and Repenrion, where Ideas and problems are the primary ontological terms, there are nevertheless significant continuities between Deleuze's transcendental empiricism and the conception of philosophy as the creation of concepts. Like the constantly renewed attempt to create new images of thought, the concern with an ontology of events recurs throughout Deleuze's work. In a 1988 interview, he said: 'I've tried in all my books to discover the nature of events; it's a philosophical concept, the only one capable of ousting the verb "to be" and attributes.'l5 In effect, by its repeated attempts to fonnulate an ontology of open multiplicities whose mode of individuation is that of events rather than essences, Deleuu's work renews and recreates a metaphysical tradition that extends from the Stoics through Leibniz to Bergson and Whitehead. In The Fold, he argues that Leibniz was the inventor of one of the most imponant concepts of the event, and devotes a chapter to the comparison of Leibniz's and Whitehead's means of thinking beyond the logic of attribution. 3� In Difference and Repelition, after having defined problems as the differential, virtual structures which are the transcendental conditions of thought, Deleuze suggests that 'problems are of the order of events'.17 In other words, JUSt as probh:ms are not reducible to particular solutions in which they become incarnated, so events may be supposed to subsist independently of their actualizations in bodies and states of affairs. It is as though actual events were doubled by a series of ideal or virtual events whose distinctive points 'anticipate and engender' the distinctive points of the first series. The interconnec­ tions among problems, Ideas and events in Deleuze's account of the transcendental conditions of thought emerge funher when we con­ sider that the objects of transcendental Ideas might equally be de­ scribed as problems or events: the Idea of society refers to the event-of social organization, the Idea of language to the event of linguistic communication, and so on. Deleuze's concept of events is not that of a restricted set of singular occurrences, such as points or rupture or irreversible change. All events have an inner complexity and structure "

Introduction

13

includes decisive points as well as periods in which nothing cites Peguy with regard to this dimension of events: curs. Deieuze points of the event just as there are critical points of critical are ere

which

�

_perature: .' -

points of fusion, freezing and boiling points. points of

� crystaII"tzatlon . . . coagulalion and The Logic of S,mse might equally have been entitled 'The Logic of the

Event'. In the course of outlining a Meinongian conception of sense as that which is expressed in propositions. Deleuze argues for the identity of sense and what he calls 'pure events': incorporeal entities which subsist over and above their spatio-temporal manifestations. and

which are expressed in language. He relies upon the Stoic concept of the 'sayable'

(Jekta)

in order to distinguish the sense or event ex­

pressed in a proposition from the mixtures of bodies to which these are attributed. The Stoics. he argues. were the first to create a philosoph­ ical concept of the event. discovering this along with sense or the expressed of the proposition: 'an incorporeal, complex and irreducible entity. at the surface of things, a pure event which inheres or subsists in the proposition',n Deleuze and Guattari re-utilize this Stoic concept of events in

A Thousand Plateaus,

when they characterize language as

the set of order-words current in a given milieu at a given time. By the order-word or command function of language, they mean the relation between statements and the events or incoporeal transformations effec­ tuated by the utterance of those statements. Following the Stoics, Deleuze and Guattari argue that all events are incorporeal transforma­ tions: not just institutional events such as becoming a university grad­ uate or a convicted felon, but also physical events such as being cut or becoming red. The state of being cut or being red is an attribute of bodies, whereas the event of becoming cut or becoming red is a change of state which does not inhere in the bodies but is attributed to them. Events are incorporeal transformations which 3re expressed in state­ ments and attributed to bodies.'" Their use of this Stoic conception of the event allows them to redescribe the relationship between language and the world in terms of effectivity rather than representation. Insofar as

language expresses such incorporeal transformations, it does not

Simply represent the world but acts upon it or intervenes in it in cenain Ways. In all language use, Deleuze and Guattari argue, there is an effectivity which is of the order of deterritorialization.

In W'hat is Philosophy? philosophy is described as a form of thought r�ther than knowledge, and thought is described as a vector of deter­ ltOri lization. Philosophy as the creation of concepts is assigned a � �toplan' task, namely to express and thereby bring into consciousness

�

"gm.r,Icant or important events: 'Every concept shapes and reshapes

14

Paul PaltQn

the event in its own way. The greatness of a philosophy is measured by the nature of the events to which its concepts summon us or that it enables us to release in concepts. '41 The account of concepts here combines aspects of both the earlier account of problems as events and the assimilation of event and sense. On the one hand, both concepts and events are defined as virtualities that have become consistent� entities 'formed on a plane of immanence that sections the chaos'. On the other hand, concepts are described as identical with events under­ stood as the 'pure sense' that runs through their components.42 In these terms, any philosophical concept will express an event: Hobbes', concept of the Social Contract expresses the event of incorporation of a legal and political system. This is a pure event which cannot be reduced to its historical actualizations; it is rather the sense or imman­ ent cause of those actual events.

It follows that, while philosophy involves the determination 0

events and their attribution to bodies and states of affairs, the value 0

such thought lies outside itself. In this respect, philosophy is no different to art or science and certainly not superior to either. As we have already noted, the adequacy or inadequacy with which it per forms this task is not assessable in terms of truth and falsity. Phil sophy can offer guidelines for well-formed as opposed to flim

concepts, but it cannot offer criteria for judging the importance 0

events, nor rules for the attribution of events to states of affairs. Ideally. the events which a great philosophy discovers are those which deterritorialize the present and point towards a different future. How ever, it is not for philosophy itself to decide which concepts expres

events of this kind. For this reason, Deleuze describes the act 0 thought as a dice-throw. Thinking is a form of experimentation. wher

the aim is to determine concepts of the events which determine ou fate. The only criteria by which such concepts may be assessed are those of 'the new, remarkable and interesting that replace the appear ance of truth and are more demanding than it is'Y A final continuity in Deleuze's work and a funher sense in which he remains a philosopher in the classical sense emerges in his discussions

of the ethics of the event. When Deleuze asks in The Logic of Sense.

'why is every event a kind of plague, war wound or death?'," the force

of his question is ethical rather than empirical. The point is not that there are more unfortunate than fortunate events, nor is it a mattct of delimiting a special class of occurrences worthy of the name 'event'. Rather, be seeks to raise the question of our stance towards the eventS which befall us. Throughout all Deleuze's work there is an ethics of the event that owes as much to Spinoza and Nietzsche as it does to the

15

Introduction sto·cs.

It is a question of willing the event in such a manner or to such the quality of the will itself is transfonned and becomes a xtent that it is by means of the concept that this transmu­ Moreover) . a rmation quality of the will is achieved. Ultimately, the purpose the t don in creation of concepts is ethical rather than epistemologi­ d the , rve by extracts events from bodies and states of affairs and in ophy "I . Philos us to affinn the sense of what happens. 'There is a enables doing so alwa has that event been nsepar ble from philos p y dignity of the Deleuze and 'Ph ilosophy's sole aim IS Guartan proclaim: f ati,' as amor th worthy of e event . .5 to become

; � :

�

�

�

��

.

NOTES

Sevenl people have offered invaluable assistance in the preparation of this Critical Reader. I would especially like to thank jean-Clet Manin, David Wills, Kevin Mulligan, Moira Gatens and Daniel Smith for their advice, and Peter Cook for his work as editorial assistant.

2 3

4 5

6 7

'8 ans apres: Entretien 1980', L'Art 49: Deleuze (revised edition) 1980, p. 99. What is Philosophy', trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Graham Burchell, New York: Columbia Univenity Press, 1994, p. 54. Negotiation! 1972-1990, trans. Martin joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995, pp. 3 1-2. In a recent letter-preface to Variations: La philosophit de Gilles Dtleuu, by Jean-Clet Manin, Paris: Payot, 1993, p. 7, Deleuze offers the following characterization of his idea of system: 'For me, the system must not only be in perpetual heterogeneity, it must be a heterogenesis. This, it seems to me, has never before been at­ tempted.' SeC" also Philippe Mengue, Gilles Delewze ou k systeme du multiple, Paris: Editions Kime, 1994, pp. 1 1-13, 47. Interview with Didier Eribon, Le Nouvel ObsenJattur, No. 1619, du 16 au 22 novembre 1995, pp. 50-I. E;r;pressionism in PhloJOphy: i Spinoza, uans. Manin joughin, New York: Zone Books, 1990, p. 321. cr. Thl Logic 01Sen!e, trans. Mark l...cster with Charles Stivale, ed. Constantin V. Boundas, New York: Columbia Univer­ sity Press, 1990, p. 6: 'The genius of a philosophy must first be measured by the new distribution which it imposes on beings and concepts. ' Difjerlnu and IUPllition, trans. Paul Patton, London: Athlone Press, 1994, p. xxi. 'Renverser Ie PlalOnisme' n i RnJtu tk Mttaphysiqul II tk Morale, 7 1 : 4 OCI. ee. 1966, pp. 426-38. Reprinted in revised fonn as an appendix to LogiqUl du sens (1969). The latter version appears in English as an appendix to Thl Logic 0/Smu, 'PlaIO and the simulacrum'.

Paul Pattbn

16 8

Negotiations, p. 6.

9

Jacques Derrida, Limited Inc., nans. Samuel Weber, Evanston, II.: western Un iversity Press, 1988, p. 75.

10 II

Negotiations, p. 2.

12

Ibid., p. 25.

13

Expressionism it! Philosophy:

14

What s j Philosophy?, p. 22.

What s i Philosophy?, p. 20.

15

Ibid., p. 27.

16

Ibid., pp. 7, 82.

17

Ibid., p. 37.

18

Spino

zo.,

p . 323.

Difference a,ul Repetition, p. 134. In What is Philosophy?, Deleuze

Guattari suggest that both contemporary analytic and


or conversational images of thought remain bound to the model. Cr. pp. 1 3 8-9, 145-6. 19

Differerue and Reperitio'l, p. xvii. cr. Negotiations. p . 149; Varial1om: philosophc i de Gilles Defeuze, p. 8.

20

What i! Philosophy?, p. 58.

21

Nietzsche and Phl1osophy, p . 89. Throughout this section

(PP'

��:�� I:

Deleuze endorses Nietzsche's criticism of Kant and argues that l' ..

provides himself with the conceptual means to successfully carry out total critique. 22

Difference and Repetition, p. 133. Cf. 'L'Idee de genese dans 1'''''h'''',,,,

23

Difjerenee ami Repetition, pp. 136-7.

24

de Kant', Revile d'Estherique, 1963, p. 135.

La Philosophie Critique de Kam, Paris; PUF, 1 963; translated by

Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam as Kant's Critical Philoso-phy, don: Athlone, 1984; 'L'ldee de genese dans l'esthelique de Kant: d'Escherique, 1963, pp. 1 1 3-36. 25

In his comments on Kant's analysis of the sublime, Deleuze ,u1",;ru,. 'thought' where Kant uses 'reason'. Difference and Repeti tion, pp. 321, fo. 10.

26

Ibid., p. 135.

27

Deleuze uses the example ofsomeone learning to swim, ibid., p. the example from Plato, cr. Republic, 523b-c, and Difference and lion, pp. 138-9.

28

Difference and Repetition, p. 139.

29

Nietzsche, Unrimeiy Meditations, trans. R. J. Hollingdale, C,=brid."

30

Differe1lce and Repetition, p. 162.

Cambridge University Press, 1983, p. 60.

31

Ibid., p. 168; Kant, Critique of Pure ReaJon, A328fB385.

32

Critique of Pure ReaJon, A651fB679. Following this line of n i terpretation, Susan Neimann points out that the

33

operation of the understanding alone is little more than the mechanical

synthesis of the manifold of intuition in accordance wi01 the categories.

Introduction

17

She comments that 'it i s dear that the outcome o f this automatic proce� dure is knowledge, but it is equally dear that it is not science'. Cf. The u"ity 0/ RUllon: Rueading Kanl, New York and Oxford: Oxford Univer· sity Press, 1994, p. 59.

34 }5

36

3;

38 39

40

41 42

43

44

\l'lhat is Philosophy?, p. 33.

NtgotiDtions, p.

1 4 1 . _--Leibn z i an the Baroque, trans. Tom Conley, Minneapolis and Fold: The London: University of Minnesota Press, pp. 41-58, 76-84. Differenu and Re�tilion, p. 188. This equivalence between uanscenden· tal problems and pure events is reaffirmed in The lAJgic 0/ Sense, p. 123, in the account ofthe logical genesis of propositions. Differenu and &pelition, p. 189. The Logic o/Senlt, p. 19. A Thousand Pfauaus: Capitaiism and Schizophrmia, crans. Brian Massumi, Minneapolis: Univenity of Minnesota Press, 1987, p. 86. What is Philowphy?, p. 34. Ibid., pp. 36, 144, 156. Ibid., p. I l l . Cr. p.

82.

Tht lAJgic 0/ Senst, p. 151. 45 What is Philosophy?, p. 160.

2

The Eye of the Outside Jean-Clet Martin

I met Deleuze for the first time under very strange meteorological circumstances. It was one day in April. Suddenly it became very and his silhouette became as imperceptible as his whispering voice. The noise of wind drowned his speech in intermittent squalls which I had to leap over each time in order to follow the thread of the co,ov,,,­ sation. I relate this anecdote not to add a mythical trait to this meeting, because it seems to relate to the book by Deleuze which I was ce"d;ruI at the time. This was, in fact. The Movement-Image, a book in one is forced to jump over the fauldine which dislocates thought, reconnect fragments of discourse. shreds of images. scraps of and non-sense. It is like a

surface or a plane upon which,

page after page, images

thought rise up; a philosophical cartoon. Philosophically speaking, concept of surface does not carry a very great historical burden, even ·

is often mistaken for detenninations with which it does not ",.11, ."cord­

Too often surface has been defined in simple opposition to depth,

'��:::;:�, :

thereby as an appearance which must be passed tluough on the way to

essence. Understood in this manner, surface falls within the

disclosure [dCtJoilement] and is extended in accordance with the of the henneneutical or phenomenological thing itself.

Another confusion, which is perhaps the inverse of the precedina: and which, rather than opposing surface to depth, consists in env;'''i:­ ing it as a ground or base upon which everything is arranged. This the idea of a support, a table or tableau, the condition of possibility particular associations. On this approach, the idea of surface grounds an epistemology which proceeds by linear focus and horizon, by acting as a base or, as Heidegger says, a sufficient reason (Grond}.

The Eye of the Outside

19

e is nothing like this. We can see it in wis Carroll But a surfac stays in place, where things as g much as words scatter in here nothin Alice's problem is how to produce a rhythm, ct ions. a gestw dire

�I

:

adapt to this line in the mirror peopled by cards without hich can can one jump from one card to another without losing How thic kness. creating a continuity of variation at each bound? It is nuum, the conti the traveller who follows the fragments of a countryside for the same windows of a train which carries him at mad speed different through non-communicating surfaces. The windows of the train may towards to a succession off rames, a film strip for which we must ared be comp

discover the right running speed. Then all the images fit together on a continuous surface and the unJoosed figures are smoothly super­ imposed, constituting a very special entity, an event which Deleuze

caUS the movement-image.

A surface, then, is an extremely populous plane, a plane of gaps and lightS which are consolidated in an anonymous way. And yet one must admit that in a certain respect such a plane lets nothing be seen. But letting nothing be seen must not be confused with nothingness or, worse, with dissimulation. It is like a battlefield: the battle realizes a state of agitation in which absolutely no form can be discerned. As Stendhal indicates in his Bautzen journal, 'from midday to three o'clock we saw very clearly all that one can see of a banle, which is to say nothing'. To make out anything is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Here we have one of the most imponant requirements of Deleuze's philosophy: on a surface nothing is hidden, but not every­ thing is visible. And this is why philosophy does not have to interpret towards a hidden essence; it is not disclosure but the construction of a moving image. It is a constructivism. A movement-image must be consolidated beyond the cut of frames, the discontinuity of the frames that compose the celluloid, where the �nning of the ribbon disturbs everything. Each movement-image Implies a difficulty of seeing, of discerning, of finding the right speed for the frames, of constructing the surface from their superimposition. This closely resembles the eye that Foucault tears from the texts of B ataille in his 'Preface to Transgression'!

�

what we need to see does not involve any n i terior secret or the discovery of � mOre nocturnal world. Tom from its ordinary position and made to tum

mwards in its orbit, the eye now only pours its light into a bony cavern. I

'hi s rolled back eye comes up against the frontier of bone, against e empty whiteness, the deadly intermittence of visibility that it

Jean-Clet Marrin

20

ceaselessly transgresses, as though it everywhere encountered an un�

crossable border which ran between all the images. There is an inter.

ruption of continuity which is like its outside. This whiteness of outside of which Foucault speaks corresponds to the wake afthe whale that Captain Ahab pursues with wide open eyes. To see white whale is no easier than to see the blanched bone towards we are led by death, bU[ which, nevertheless, the plane of the

ment-image must confront if it is to gather its light. As Melville putS ' in an astonishing text; the spray that he raised, for the moment, intolerably glittered and glared like a glacier . . .z

Earli er, Ahab exhorts his crew to look out for a white whale. Skin your eyes for him, men; look sharp for white water;

if yc see but a bubble. sing OUt . . .)

This eye from which one removes the scales, this eye which roams vicinity of death whose incorporeal sheen is expressed in each bubble, this eye without veil therefore lacks any possibility of fixing a point of view. It lacks the scales, the eyelids, the narrowing which polarizes vision and enables it to focus: sensitive to ey',ry'thii.. this eye from which the scales are tom falls into the fauhs or the which lacerate the images. It lacks the hiding place, the ocular ible. On its globe nothing is veiled or unveiled, everything is nothing withdraws into ocular occultation. Everything on its open surface reacts to everything in an anonymous flash which away the perspectives and opens them onto one another, beyond limit which separates. But, at the same time, in this passage to limit this eye never ceases to jump, to stumble over the crevice, the interstices and partitions which dislocate all the images by insupportable interval. Jumping over the white void which breaks up th'ought andl disco"".. perception and images, the eye consolidates its plane between spectives which are divergent, heterogeneous, without common der.

The

eye

which

intersects

incommensurable

images

movements, the squinting eye which leaps voids and interworlds falls between all perspectives, is in some way the mad eye or C"piaill Ahab that Moby Dick absorbs into his own whiteness. Where is Moby Dick? This instant thou must be eyeing him. These eyes of mine look into the very eye that is even now beholding Nfl; aye, and

The Eye of the Outside

21

intO the eye that is even now equally beholding the objects on the unknown, thither side of thee, thou sun!· 111is eye has therefore passed over from the other side. bifurcated in

the exercise of its own divergence without being able to withdraw into the generosity of a blind ground. It is borne upon the whole of the sea

which carries it from one ocean to another following an overlapping of hallucinating perspectives, an overlapping which opens each thing to its own whiteness, to its own limit. But this whiteness which dim­

inishes the eye is not for all that the unity of all the perspectives marked by its common fracture, the intervening void. The white is not

an organic or logical unity, but an effect of proximity between all possible perspectives. It is a line of fragmentation which carries colour along on its outside. a line of 'disparatization' which must be leapt in a rolling back of the eye - a jerky spasmodic rolling back. along a strip of film! The white only begins where two dissimilar sides assen themselves at a distance from one another, as if. over the void. the eye had to split i communicable points of view so as to pass from into divergent and n the unknown side of its globe. The white of which we speak is the great whole that Deleuze inscribes in the dimension of the open, the whole which is not a closed ensemble but the interstitial passage from one ensemble to another ensemble. from one border to the other. by means of a bound which might last minutes or eternities. This is where

movement-image becomes time-image. a brief rest at the limit, an

interminable passage [rom one ensemble to another. the experience of Suspense. It is this suspended passage that Deleuze calls transversality. A type of infinite declension which, from one edge of the rift to the other, rclinks all the images and colours by opening each to the other through a transversal connection which affinns their breaks and distances. a

connection which breaks up the tones through what Deleuze calls a 'rclinked parcelling'. The white is a fragmentary totality. This is not a totality which might restore the unity of the fragments in the manner

of a puzzle. It is. on the contrary, the principle which breaks up the unity of each tone. a rupture, an irrational cut which is the opening

of

each ensemble onto this limit which separates it from other ensem­

bles.

In the whiteness, then, there is always something open which invites the eye to leap the abyss, carrying the colours into a common vicinity.

It is Ahab's eye which squints between all possible points of view. This

�qUinting is also the formula of Deleuze's neo-Baroque perspectivism,

Jean-Clet Martin

22

a transversal eye capable of overlapping split perspectives at the same moment, closed ensembles which might break up towards a universal whiteness so as to extract new surfaces and visions. In order to understand this we need only consider a revolving stand on which all the colours are arranged in inclining bands. It would suffice [0 revolve this little machine on its axis, fairly quickly, so that

the eye passes from one interstice to the other, in the break which

separates the colours. It is the grain of the whiteness which be,eo,,,•• palpable in this way, the eye which falls into the cracks. from onc the other, in the unanimous fold which intercuts the colours.

This becoming white of the colours is a means for the eye to

over the limit which divides them, to glide over the interstices take on their own independence. It is a becoming which makes us a wall, which makes us fall in the middle, in the cut which se,p",cat., images with the speed of a harpoon. What the mad eye experiences in the pursuit of Moby Dick, the God of the sea, is middle, the gap, the white wake on the edges of which the colours set adrift. Colours kept open. Colours open to each other, b"m,
void can be found in Michel Foucault's text on Bataille which Dects the experience of death - the death of God - to the rolling of the eye: the spasm! We know that the central theme of Melville's tale, for its gravitates around the death of God. In order to recall this I will report a conversation supposed to have taken place between M.'vill. and Hawthorne around

1 850:

Melville: Imagine someone who, finally, takes up the sword or harpoon to begin a combat with God himself.

Hawthorne: One must not believe. In who? In God.

On the contrary, for then what would be the merit? Or the madness.

Or the madness ifyou like. No, I think on the contrary of someO!le who saw God as clearly as the nose in the middle of a face, as the saying goes, as clearly as the white whale above the water, and who, precisely, seeing him in all his glory, knowing him in all his mysteries, knowing how far the delirium of his force Fay go, but

Th� Ey� of th� Oursid�

23

not forgetting - ever - the wounds inflicted on him by this God, nevertheless launches himself at him and throws the harpoon. I believe you are writing a fine book, said Hawthorne, after a silence . . .'

Reading Melville, God acts like the nose n i the middle of the face, constandy filling the space which separates the eyes planted in their sockets. When God casts his scale over the white light, when he sifts out the white rifts which fragment the images, then we need to be able to come back to the whole. We need to rediscover the boundary that the nose places on the face through a squinting which crosses from one side to the other of its promontory, its peninsula, just as Proust makes the Meseglise way communicate with the Guermantes way. The nose in the middle of the face is the scale which makes the heterogeneity of perspectives impossible. It is an organic ground which makes the perceptual fields overlap homogeneously, a point of orientation, a direction of view, a vector which organizes the place­ ment of the eyes in the face: a retreat from the fits and startsl But although it organizes the way the binocular regions overlap - the passage from one side of the cape to the other - it is not, despite this, visible. It is the point of the face which is withdrawn, the blind ground ofvisibility which, in its essential withdrawal, bestows bannony on the binocular field, granting unity and identity to tbe now commensurable centres. The nose in the centre of the face: this is the principle of faciality, the principle of a pre-established harmony between tWO pans which have become indiscernable . It is the groundless ground where the divine semiotic intercedes. What is uncovered or set free by the death of God is the great

rift which splits . and fractures the perceptual field, giving rise to

new visions. I believe that this fauhline traverses the entire his­ tory of philosophy in the form of a dispute; consider the battle over

universals or, closer to the present, the rift that in Descanes separates the order of the

ratio essendi from

that of the

rarz"o cognoscendZ" to

the

point of making them incommunicable. Cartesian doubt deepens the crisis of theological reason which began with nominalism, the world no longer being read as a book open in the proximity of words and things. Thus it plunges to the limit which disjoins the order of representations from the order of things by carrying their difference

to its extreme. At this furthest point only God will be able to restore

order. By granting our representations their objective value, the

Third Meditation is able to cast a rational bridge between thought and being.

24

]ea,,-Clet Martin

In this respect the discovery of the infinite in thought is only the bringing to light of a harmony, or rather, a thin passage which carries representation towards its external object. Here we have the divine passage, the way of God which is capable of crossing the inadmissible gap dividing the ralio cog1U)scendi from the racio essendi. Perhaps the death of God announces the dramatization of this zone of empty silence which interrupts the communication between the thing and its representation. But on the other side of such a cleft, this death lodges itself in the fearful eye, where Kant vitiates the fragile, uncertain and irrational relation which strains the order of OUf rep­ resentations. I am thinking here of the hypothesis concerning heavy cinnabar which introduces disorder into the heart of thinking itself.' And it is indeed in such a breach that Deleuze comes to situate the death of God, at least since Difference and Repetition. If the idea of God is understood as an antidote to the chaos which everywhere threatens the unity of our faculties. a regulative principle responsible for transporting our representations to the heart of originary unity, then the death of God must carry to the limit the jerky discontinuity of our representations, the uncrossable rift which fm'ev,er intertwines them in the emptiness of an unlimited distance. This is what Nietzsche describes as gaiety, the laugh and the sneeze - hic­ coughs of silence in a life in fits and starts. That God is dead leaves the eye looking out ontO a Sahara, a desert

which grows from the middle. The movement of the eye which tries to

traverse this desert comes up against a lull in time, a time-image which sets the intervals free like so many irrational cuts. With the death God the interstices take on a certain independence, opening up space independent of the borders that separate them. a multiplicity dimensions without common border. That God is dead leaves the eye in front of a dazzling void which forces it to jump the limit, to cross the cape from one side to the other, in a strange perspectivism, a savage perspectivism the splendour of which Nietzsche discovered at the same time as did modem painting and cinema. In any case, it is this transgression of a transversal eye which Fou­ cault and Deleuze succeed in articulating in the experience of death. The death of God is the site of a turning away from the limit which appears as a rent, a double turning away from ever more distar.t borders. The death of God therefore consists in experiencing as a void the place he occupied. It points to this dead place as the site from which metaphysics has unrolled the way of God as support, origin aDd reason.

Thl! EYI! of chI!

25

Outsidl!

With Deleuze and Foucault the death of God sweeps thought and guage along a fatal line, a line of
: �

By denying us the limit of the Limitless, the death of God leads to an experience which . . . discloses as its own secret and clarification, its intrinsic finitude, the limitless reign of the Limit, and the emptiness

of those excesses in which it spends itself and where it is found wanting

. . . What, indeed, is the meaning of the death of God !f not a strange

solidarity between the stunning realization of his non-existence and the act that kills him? But what does it mean to kill God

if he does not exist,

to kill God who has never existed ? Perhaps it means to kill God both

because he does not exist and to guarantee he will not exist: cenainly a

cause for laughter .

1

One finds in this passage the same preoccupation as in Melville, a preoccupation which will impel Deleuze towards a new understanding of the brain. Between this laugh of Foucault and the whiteness which Ahab's eye follows, there opens up the same intermittence, the same cut or hiatus which the dead God plunges into thought like a harpoon, a stumbling and stuttering thought, internally rent by the silence of synaptic fissures as Deleuze would say in Thl! Tjml!-lmagl!. To laugh and to squint in some way make up the same refrain, the same leap, the necessity of passing beyond this limit of intermittence, which Deleuze finds in Foucault in the form of confrontation. Transgression is an action which involves the limit . . . transgression incessantly crosses and recrosses a line which closes up behind it in a wave of exmme1y short duration, and thus it is made to return once

more right to the horizon of the uncrossable.1

precisely this line which Ahab is forever transgressing, this line opened by the wake of the white whale and which the harpoon criss-crosses from side to side, all the way to ultimate death, to the uncrossable horizon, letting the image of a cinemascopic thought and literature break through behind the delirium of words. The wake of the white whale in which can be read the impending death of the whole crew, this wake resonating with Ahab's laugh and song of the sailors, this rift which interrupts Ahab's thought and forces him to limp through a night of intermittences, this silvery wake Which gives Ahab his spasmodic gait, this limit in which he has already It is

which is

the

Jean-Clel Marrin

26

lost his leg and which rums his thought into stuttering, all this must be stitched back together, relinked in the creation of new percepts and new animated surfaces. But what is this philosophical cartoon, this relinked distribution (delirium), if not the in

What is Philosophy?

cO'lCept

as defined by Deleuze and Guanari

There is no concept where thought is not

constantly lashed by this line, where thought refuses to leap in terror. confronted by the void which dislocates it. This is why Deleuze can

say that all concepts are fragmentary wholes which. in so far as their boundaries do not coincide, cannot be made to fit together - like a Roman wall in which there is no mortar to seal the gaps or to fill the interstices. Deleuze's concepts, then, do not coincide. and the God i, dead who might have acted as divine mortar sealing the holes in thought and guaranteeing the passage from one representation to another. The concept as fragmentary whole broken up by intercalated folds, this mortarless construction, is the only way of escaping the mental chaos n i to which we ace thrown by the death of God - even · it refuses to give us relief from it. And philosophy is affected by this emptiness, by this intervening wake wbich Melville compares with the siren's allure: On each soft side - coincident with the paned swell, that but once leaving him, then flowed so wide away - on each bright side, the whale shed off enticings. No wonder there had been some among the hunters

who namelessly transponed and allured by all this serenity, had ven­

tured to assail it; but had fatally found that quietude but the vesture of tornadoes. Yet calm, enticing calm, oh, whale! thou glidest on, to all who for the first time eye thee, no maner how many in that way thou may'st have bejuggled and destroyed before.9

This

deadly calm which seduces the eye of the nomadic philosopher

the sparkling of a white shroud from wbich are drawn affects as well as

percepts and concepts according to a diagrammatic rather than I dialectic whole.

What lures us towards the non-visible weft of this fabric, towards the trough of this wake which comes between each frame, is the force o( dispersion o( the outside, the median line on which all forms are smashed to pieces. But this calls (or a throw of the dice which partially reconnects them, a dicethrow in a world without God, a dicethrow for a menacing and drunken eye which necessarily sees double but which does not StOP us from walking straight and staying upright in the tempest.

,

The Eye of the Outride

27

This white line which passes between each thought, this line upon hich Allab sets out limping with his jerky speech, is the line of isp aratization·. It is the space which opens the closed ensembles and pass into their own mulcipJicity, like a cinema before its makes them animated opera which sometimes loses its speed, at which an or e . im oint everything becomes jerky, slows down, falls into the delirium of cetology. a fragmented ese multiplicities, to which this wrenching border leads us, And precisely designate the fragmented centre of Deleuze's philosophy a philosophy of multiplicities which, in confronting the whiteness of the outside, in coming up against the ravine which the death of God frees and makes insupponable, in confronting the line of dispersal, once again makes thought possible, offers up in accordance with a hitherto untried form of apportionment and collage, new assemblages, apparatuses, regimes of signs. This is why when Foucault declares 'that a lightning stonn was produced which will, one day, be given the name of Deleuze: new thought is possible; thought is again possible', LO it is not simply a matter of jest. Deleuze's work everywhere marks this difficulty of thinking which leads back to its own unthought, to its impossible possibility, towards the gaping of its piecemeal fibres and agitated neurons. This is where the whiteness bursts fonh like the call of a sign, of an event tearing everything under the lash of its furious whip. Surely we are permitted finally, where our work has failed, to leave this jerky language cracking. In the fonnulas that it throws over the chaos like a breath of air, it forces us to think, at the risk of throwing us back into the open sea.

�

�

th

-

When we say 'tlJe whole is the oOlside,' the point is quite different. In the first place, the question is no longer that of the association or attraction of images. What counts is on the contrary the intenrice be­ ....een . t m i ages, between twO images; a spacing which means that each m i age is plucked from the void and falls back into it . . . Given one image, another image has to be chosen which will induce an inter­ sticc between the two. This is not an operation of association, but of differentiation, as mathematicians say, or of disparatisation, as physicists say . . . In other words, the interstice is primary in relation to associ­ ation, or irreducible difference allows resemblances to be graded. The fissure has become primary, and as such grows larger. It is not a mailer of following a chain of images, even across voids, but of getting out of thc chain or the association . . . It is the method of BETWEEN, 'be­ tween two images,' which does away with all cinema ofthe One. It is the method of AND, this and then that,' which does away with all cinema '

Jean·Clel Manin

28

of Being. Between twO actions, between two affections, between two perceptions, between two visual images, between two sound images, between the sound and the visual: make the indiscernible, that is the frontier, visible . . . The whole undergoes a

mutation,

because it

has ceased to be the One-Being, in order to become the constitu· live between·two of images . . . The whole thus merges with what Blanchot calls the force of 'dispersal of the Outside' or the 'vertigo of spacing . .

11

.'

translated by Tom Gibson and Anthony UI>lrr,ann

NOTES Language, Counter-Memory, Practice: Sekcted ,.uays and interviews Michel Foucault, edited with an introduction by Donald F. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1977, p. 46. 2 Herman Melville, Moby Dck, i London: Penguin, 1994, ch. 134, p. 520. 3 Ibid., ch. 36, p. 165. Manin cites this passage in the French

�::: : : ::;�':

given by Kenneth White. in a fine essay on whiteness entitled ' j du monde blanc' in Figurl du dthon, Grasset. 1978, p. 146: ',

LA . balein, blanche. Otez kJ &aiJ/es de 00$ yeux pour la voir, hommts, ayez chmhtz ['tau blanche; si vow t>OjIlZ PIe suait-ce qu'U", buDt, cn ,zl' '

.

Melville's expression, 'skin your eyes', White puts the French <xp"".'o. 'remove: the scales from your eyes' [ed.).

4 5

Moby Dick, ch. 1 1 8, pp. 470-1. From the prdace to the French paperback edition of Moby

Dick, 16-7. This preface is extracted the essay by Jean Giono, Pour Sa/uer Melville, Gallimard, 1941. Gallimard Folio,

6

1980,

vol. I, pp.

The implications of this hypothesis are analysed in detail in my

alions: fa phiJo50phie de Gilles Deleuze, Paris:

Payot,

1993: I, I, 2 and II,

An English translation by Constantin V. Boundas will be published Humanities Press.

7 8 9 10 II

Languagt, Counter-Mtmory, Practice, p. 32. Ibid., pp. 33-4. Moby Dd, ch. 133, p. 5 1 1 . Language, Counter-Memory, Practice, p. 196. Cinema 2: The Time·/mage, trans. Hugh Tomlinson London: Athlone, J 989, pp. 179-80.

,

and Robert

3

Deleuze 's Theory of Sensation: Overcoming the Kantian Duality Daniel W Smith

Aesthetics since Kant has been haunted by a seemingly irretractable dualism. On the one hand. aesthetics designates the theory of sensib­ ility as the form of possible experience; on the other hand, it desig­ nates the theory of art as a rdlection on real experience. The first is the objective element of sensation. which is conditioned by the a priori Conns of space and time (the 'Transcend ental Aesthetic ' aCthe en"rique

of Pure Reason);

the second is the subjective element of sensation,

which is expressed in the feeling of pleasure and pain (the 'Critiqu e of Aesthetic Judgment' in the Critique

of Judgment),

Gilles Deleuze ar­

gues that these two aspects of the theory of sensation (aesthetics) can � reunited only at the price of a radic al recasting of the transcenden­

tal project as form!Jlated by Kant, pushing it in the direction of what Schelling once called a 'superior empiricism': it is only when the conditions of experience in general become the genetic conditions of

real experience that they can be reunited with the structures of works

of an. In this case, the principles of sensation would at the same time Constitute the principles of composition of the work of art, and conver­ sely it would be the structure of the work of an that reveals these

conditions. I In what follows, I would like to examine the means by

�'hich Deleuze anempts to overcome this duality in aesthetics. follow­

mg this single thread through the network of his thought, even if in tracin g this line we sacrifice a cenain amount of detail in favor of a

ccnain

perspicuity. The first pan analyses Deleuze's theory of sensa­ . tIon; the second, his attempt to connect this theory with the structures the work of an.

of

Dam"el

30

1

W.

Smith

The Theory of Sensation: 'The Being of the Sensible' J. J

Beyond Recog'licion and Commorl Sense

Deleuze frequently begins his discussions of aesthetics by cel'en;n,g t,� a passage in the Republic where Plato distinguishes between twO of sensations: those that leave the mind tranquil and inactive, those that force it to think. The first are objects of recog" iri on ('This a finger'), for which sensation is a more or less adequate judge. these cases,' writes Plato, 'a man is not compelled to ask of 1h"UI!h1 the question, "What is a finger?" for the sight never intimates to mind that a finger is other than a finger . . . There is nothing

which invites or excites intelligence. 'z Deleuze defines recognition, Kantian terms, as the harmonious exercise of our faculties on

object that is supposedly identical for each of these faculties: it is

same object that can be seen, remembered, imagined, conceived, so on. To be sure, each faculty (sensibility, imagination, understanding, reason) has its own particular given, and its own of acting upon the given. We recognize an object, however, when faculty locates its given as identical to that of another, or more p,ec'''' Iy, when all the faculties together relate their given and relate

selves to 8 form of identity in the object. Recognition cons,equen" finds its correlate in the ideal of common sense, which is defined

��:�;���

Kant, not as a special 'sense' or a particular empirical faculty, but the supposed identity of the subject that functions as the of our faculties, as the principle that unites them in this

accord. These are twO poles of what Deleuze terms the

:::;;:=

image of thought, and which constitutes one of the main objects critique: the subjective identity of the self and its faculties (c sense), and the objective identity of the thing to which these �

refer (recognition). Thus in Kant, the 'object in general' or 'object

x' is the objective correlate of the 'I think' or the SUbjective unity consciousness.1 But there also exists a second kind of sensation in the continues Plato, sensations that force us to think, that give rise

thought. These are what Deleuze will term 'signs', for reasons we see below: they are no longer objects of recognition but objects ('If

��:::�::

fundamental encounter. More precisely, they are no longer even " , ognizable as objects, but rather refer to sensible qualities o

that are caught up in an unlimited becoming, a perpetual n : , of contraries. A finger is never anything but a finger, but a large

Dtleu::e's Theory of Sensation: Owrcoming the Kantian Duality 31 at the same time b e said t o b e small in relation to a third, just as is hard is never hard without also being soft, and so on. Recogni­ at measures and limits these paradoxical qualities by relating them 00 n ct, but in themselves, these 'simultaneously opposed sensa­ t an obje ' ons , says Plato, perplex the soul and set it in motion, they force it to ink because they demand 'funher inquiry'. Rather than a voluntary and harmonious accord, the faculties here enter into an involuntary discord that lies at the base of Plato's model of education: sensibility intelligence to distinguish the large and the small from the compels the appearances that confuse them, which in turn compels the sensible begin to remember the intelligible Forms.4 memory to of this second type, Deleuze argues, that constitute sensations It is for any possible aesthetic. Phenomenologists like Merleau­ the basis pontY, Straus, and Maldiney had already gone a long way toward freeing aesthetics from the presupposition of recognition. They argued that sensation, or rather 'sense experience' [/e stnrir1 , must be analysed not only insofar as it relates sensible qualities to an identifiable object (the figurative moment), but insofar as each quality constitutes a field that stands on its own, even though it ceaselessly n i terferes with other qualities (the 'pathic' moment).� But they still remained tied to a form of common sense, setting up 'natural perception' as a norm, and locating its conditions in a sensible form or Gestalt that organizes the perceptive field as a function of an 'intentional consciousness' or 'lived body' situated within the horizon of the world. If Proust and Signs occupies a critical place in Deleuzc's oeuvre, it is because A la recherche du temps perdu, in Deleuze's reading, presents itself as a vast experi­ ment with sensations of this second type, but one freed from the presuppositions of both recognition and common sense. In Proust, these signs no longer simply indicate contrary sensible qualities, as n i Plato, but instead testify to a much more complicated network. of implicated orders of signs: the frivolous signs of society life, the deceptive signs of love, the sensuous signs of the material world, and the essential signs of an, which will come to transform the others. Proust's narrator will discover that, when he thought he was wasting his time, he was in fact already embarked on an intellectual appren­ ticeship to these signs, a search for their meaning, a revelation of their truth. In each of these orders, the search inevitably passes through two eSSential moments: an 'objectivist temptation' that seeks for the lTleaning of the sign in the object emitting it (his lover, the madeleine), and a 'subjective compensation' that seeks their meaning n i a subjec­ . tlYe association of ideas. But in each case, the hero discovers that the lrUth of signs 'transcends the states of subjectivity no less than the ca

:

� ?

�

32

Daniel W. Smith

propenies of the object': it is only in the work of art that their nature will be �vealed and their truth made manifest.6 This distinction between the recognized object and the encountered sign, Deleuze argues, corresponds to a more general distinction be­ tween two images of thought. The 'dogmatic' or rationalist image can be summarized in several interrelated postulates: thought as thought Connally contains the truth (innateness of ideas, a priori nature concepts); thinking is the voluntary and natural exercise of a faculty, and the thinker possesses a natural love for the truth, a philia (hence the image of the thinker as a philo-sophos, a friend or lover of dam); we fall into error, we are diverted from the truth, by external forces that are foreign to thought and distract the mind from its vocation (the body, passions); therefore, all we need in order to truthfully is a 'method.I that will ward off error and bring us back to the truthful nature ofthought.1 It is against this more or less Greek image that Deleuze counterposes the empirical power of signs and the ibility of a thought 'without image': thinking is never the product of. voluntary disposition, but rather the result of forces that act thought involuntarily from the outside: we search for truth, we to think, only when compelled to do so, when we undergo a v';o)"oo:. that impels us to such a search, that wrests us from our natural - what calls for thought, says Heidegger, is the perpetual /act that are not yet thinking';' the negative of thought is not error, which is mere empirical fact, but more profound enemies that prevent genesis of thought: convention, opinion, cliches, stupidity finally, what leads us to truth is not 'method' but 'constraint' 'chance': no method. can determine in advance what compels us ' think, it is rather the fortuitousness of the encounter tha,tt ' the necessity ofwhat it forces us to think. W"ho is it that in f�, , for the truth? It is not the friend, says Proust, exercising desire for truth in dialogue with others, but rathet the jealous maD, under the pressure of his lover's lies, and the anguish they inflict OD him.lo If Deleuze has always considered himself an empiricist, it is because. 'on the path which leads to that which is to be thought, everything begins with sensibility' . 1 I What then is a sign? In Difference and Repetition, Deleuze assigns twO primary characteristics to the sign. The first is that the sign riots the soul, renders it perplexed, as if the encountered sign were the bearer of a problem. The second is that the sign is something that can only be felt or sensed [ce qui ne peut eIre que smlll : as Francis Bacon says, it actS directly on the nervous system, rather than passing through the detour of the brain.12 It is this second characteristic that reveals most clearly

�:;:�:i

De!eu=e's Theory of Se"sotio,,: Overcoming the Komian Duality

33

erence between the encountered sign and the recognized ab­ the diff . c". the latter can not only be felt, but can also be remembered, le conceived, and so on, and thus assumes the accord of the . agined,

Kant calls common sense. By taking the encountered �:uhies thatprimary element of sensation, Deleuze is pointing, object­ sign as the

ively, (0 a sci.mce 0/ the sensible .t:eed from the m�1 of recognition a"d,

subjectifJely,

w

a use of the foeullles /reed from the Ideal 0/ commo" sense.

Now Kant himself had already hinted at this latter possibility in the Critique ofJudgment where, for the first and only time, he considered a

faculty freed from the form of common sense, namely, the faculty of the imagination. Up to that point, Kant had been content to create as many common senses as there were natural interests of reasonable thought (knowledge, morality, reflection), common senses which dif­ fered according to the conditions of what was to be recognized (object

of knowledge, moral value, aesthetic effect . . .) . In the en"rique of Pure

Reason, for example, the faculties are made to enter into a harmonious accord in the speculative interest, in which the understanding legis­ lates over and determines the function of the other faculties ('logical common sense'); in the Critique of Practical Reason, the faculties enter into a different accord under the legislation of reason in the practical interest ('moral common sense'); and even in the 'Analytic of the Beautiful' of the Critique ofJudgment, the reflective imagination is still

said to be under the 'aesthetic common sense'" Il

But the third Critique opened up the possibility of a new domain, a 'disjunctive' theory of the faculties. In the 'Analytic of the Sublime', the faculty of the imagination is forced to confront its own limit, its Own maximum: faced with an immense object (the desert, a mountain, a pyramid) or a P9werful object (a storm at sea, an erupting volcano), the imagination strives to comprehend these sensations in their to­ tality, but is unable to do so. It reaches the limits of its power, and finds itself reduced to impotency" This failure gives rise to a pain, a cleavage in the subject between what can be imagined and what can be thought, between the imagination and reason" For what is it that Pushes the imagination to this limit, what forces it to attempt to unite the immensity of the sensible world into a whole? Kant answers that it is nothing other than the faculty of reason: absolute immensity or POwer are Ideas of reason, Ideas that can be thought but cannot be

k.nown or imagined, and which are therefore accessible mlly to the faCulty of reason. The sublime thus presents us with a disunsion, a 'discordant accord', between the demands of reason and the power of the imagination. But this painful admission also gives rise to a plea­

SUre: in confronting its own limit, the imagination at the same time

34

Daniel W. Smith

goes beyond this limit, albeit n i a negative way, by representing

itself the inaccessibility of this rational Idea. It presents to itself

fact that the unpresemable exists, and that it exists in sensible nature,l. From the empirical point of view, this limit is inaccessible and aginable; but from the transcendental point of view, it is that can only be imagined, that which is accessible only to the imagim,ti,oQ ' ; in its transcendental exercise,

:':�f :

The lesson of the 'Analytic of the Sublime', in Deleuze's ':� that it discovers this discordant accord as the condition of �;

' ]i

for the harmonious accords of the faculties that Kant evoked in

first two critiques, an accord that is not derived from

external 'facts' (the 'fact' of knowledge. the 'fact' of morality), but ' engendered internally in the subject. It is this possibility of a &sjunc. tive use of the facu1ties, glimpsed fleetingly by Kant with regard to imagination, that Deleuze will extend to the entire critical proj"ct Rather than having all the faculties harmoniously united in an act recognition, each faculty is made to confront its own differential and is pushed to its involuntary and 'transcendental' exercise,

exercise in which something is communicated violentlyfrom one faculty

;�;:

another. but does not fonn a common sense. Such is the use of the fa

put forward by Proust: a sensibility that apprehends and r � signs; an intelligence, memory, and imagination that interpret

and explicate their meaning, each according to a certain type of ,;,,, and a pure thought which discovers their essence as the reason of the sign and its meaning. What Deleuze calls a therefore neither a recognizable object nor even a particular q,,,]ity . an object, but constitutes the limit of the faculty of sensibility each faculty in its tum must confrOnt its own limit). As Deleuze it, the sign is not a sensible being, nor even a purely qualitative

(aisthlwn), but the being afthe sensible (aisrhetton). From the cal point of view, the sign, in and of itself, is unsensible, not in contingent way, as if it were too small or too distant to be grasped our senses, but in an essential way, namely, from the point of view

recognition and common sense, in which sensibility can only grasp can also be grasped by the other faculties. But from the trans,ce"d,,",a1 point of view, the sign is what can only be felt or sensed, that which accessible o,dy to the faculty of sensibility in its transcendental cise. The sign, in short, points to a pure aesthetic lying at the ·

.

sensibility: an immanent Idea or differential field beyond the norms common sense and recognition. What then is this Idea of se,,,ibilii,,­ What are these forces of the 'outside' that nonetheless give rise thought?

Deleu=e's Theory of Sensation: Owrcomi"K the Kamian Duality 35 1.2

The Idea of Sensibility: Differential Relations and Differences in Intensity

1790, Salomon Malmon, one of the first post-Kantians to Already in ibniz, had proposed an essential revision of Kant on to Le relurn point. I' Leibniz argued that a conscious perception must this ely reciS

to a recognizable object situated in space and time, but �e related, notand unconscious perceptions of which it is composed. I

to the minute apprehend the noise of the sea or the munnur of a group of people, for instance, but not the sound of each wave or the voice of each person that compose them. These unconscious 'molecular' perceptions are

�lated to conscious 'molar' perceptions, not as pans to a whole, but as what is ordinary to what is noticeable or remarkable: a conscious perception is produced when at least two of these elements enter into

a dijfermu·al relation that detennines a singular point.16 Consider, for example, the colour green: yellow and blue can be perceived, but

if

their perception diminishes to the point where they become indiscer­ nible, they enter into a differential relation (db/dy

=

G) that deter­

mines the colour green; in tum, yellow or blue, each on its own

account, may be detennined by the differential relation of two colours we cannot detect (dy/dx

=

V).

Or consider the noise of the sea: at least twO minutely perceived waves must enter into a relation capable of detennining a third, which 'excels' over the others and becomes conscious. These unconscious perceptions constitute the 'ideal genetic elements' of perception, or what Maimon called the 'differentials of consciousness'. It is such a

virtual multiplicity of genetic elements, and the system of connections or differential relations that are established between them, that De­ leuze terms an 'Idea': the relations are actualized in diverse spatia­ temporal relationships, JUSt as the elements are actualized in diverse

perceptions and forms. A sign, in its first aspect, is thus an 'effect' of these elements and relations in the Idea: a clear perception (green) is actualized when cenain vinual elements (yellow and blue) enter into a differential relation as a function of our body, and draws these ObScure perceptio ns into clarity. 11 Deleuze suggests that Bergson, in The Creative Mind, had developed somewhat parallel conception of the Idea, using the domain of color

a

�s an example. There are two ways of detennining what 'colours' have Either one can extract from panicular colours an abstract �nd general idea of color (,by removing from the red that which makes It red, from the blue what makes it blue, from the green what makes it

In comm on.

Daniel W. Smith

36

green'); Qr onc can make all these colours 'pass through a conve"g... lens. bringing them to a single point', in which case a 'pure white is obtained that 'makes the differences between the shades out'.'8 The first case defines a generic 'concept' with a plurality objects. in which the relation between concept and object is one subsumption, and the state of difference remains exterior to the The second case defines a differential Idea in the Deleuzian sense. different colours are no longer objects under a concept, bo,t< 'm,,'i",�

::��:����:

an order of mixture in co-existence and succession within the Idea; relation between the Idea and a given color is not one o

but one of actualization and differentiation; and the state . . of

between the concept and the object is i,llenlaJized in the Idea

White light may be a universal, if you will, but it is a cone.... universal, a universal variation, and not a genus or generality. It,, ,,,"

of colour is like white light. which 'perplexes' within itself the

elements and relations of all the colors, JUSt as the Idea of sound be conceived of as white noise.l<) This notion of the differential Idea finds its complement in concept of intensity: these elements and relations 8re actualized in an intensive magnitude. Kant himself had defmed principle of intensity in the 'Anticipations of Perception': we priori that the matter of sensations will have a degree of intensity, that this magnitude will change along a continuum starting from point where intensity

=

O.lO But since he defined thefonn of se,,,il)iIiI

as extended space. Kam limited the application of intensity to

matter of sensible ntuitions i that come to fill that space. But Mai."" like Hermann Cohen after him, argued that since space as a intuition is a continuum, it is the form of space itself that must defined a priori as intensive quantity: there is therefore an internal dynamic construction of space that necessarily precedes the entation of the whole as a form of exteriority (which implies that is actualized in a plurality of fonns).2l In empirical experience. to sure, we know only intensities or forms of energy that are localized and distributed in extended space: intensity is ;",e,,,,'abl from a process of extension that relates it to extended space subordinates it to the qualities that fill space. But the corresp.onolinl tendency is no less true, since every extensity necessarily envelops implicates within itself the intensity of which it is an effect. A 'sign'

����:::

its second aspect, is an intensity produced by the asymmetry of differential relations, whereas a 'quality' appears when an'

reaches a given order or magnitude and these relations are 0

in consciousness.22 Sensations thus present a double aspect:

De!euze's Theory 0/ Sensation: Overcoming the Komia" Duality 37 of constitutive 'sarily refer to a virtual and implicated order . ntee they tend to cancel out those but differences In the ex, erences dl'{T order in which they are explicated. These intensive forces are te ded themselves, they cannot be grasped by the empirical in n give oe er which only grasp intensity as already recovered or mediated by nses• that it creates. They can only be sensed from the point of e qualitY uanscendental sensibility that apprehends it immediately .jeW of the encounter as the limit of sensibility itself. With the notion of m the 'ntensity. he wnles, sensauon ceases to be representative and .

: : �

.

,

.

real'. Hence the formula: 'intensity is both the unsensible �eCO!Tleswhich can only be sensed'.

n and that derives from this Leibnizian argument is a transcend­ MaImon What

ental method of genesis rather than one of simple conditioning: a clear sensation emerges from obscurity by a genetic process, as it were through a series of filters, a series of successive integrations or syn­

theses. In the en·rique oj Pure Reason, Kant reserved the power of synthesis for the active 'I think', for the activity of the understanding,

and conceived of the passive ego as a simple receptivity possessing no synthetic power. Because be considered the sensible to be a quality related to an object that sensibility intuited passively. he defined tbe transcendental form of space. as the condition of outer sense. by its geometric extension (pure intuition of objects or bodies). And if concepts in tum could be applied to intuitions, if a harmony was

possible between the understanding and sensibility, it was only through the mysterious intermediary of the 'schematism' of the im­ agination, which alone makes the spatio-temporal relations of intui­ tion correspond to the logical relations of the concept. But the problem with the Kantian method of conditioning, which post-Kan­ tians such as Maimon and Cohen were quick to point out, is that it leaves unexplained the purely external duality between the determin­ able (space as a pure given) and the determination (the concept as thought), invoking 'hidden' harmonies between terms that remain external to one another.i• What the post-Kantians argued (as did Freud) is that the passive ego is itself constituted by a prodigious

�omain of unconscious and passive syntheses that precede and condi­ liOn the

activity of the 'J think'. Beyond Kant's external method of conditioning, MaImon proposes

�!l i'ltemai method of genesis in which the relation between the determ­ Inable and the determination is internalized in the Idea. Rather than

perCeption presupposing an object capable of affecting us, and the COnditions under which we would be capable of being affected, it is the r�tiprocal determination of differentials (dx/dy) that entails both the

38

Danul W. Smirh

complete detennination of the object as perception and the d."" ...

��:�

inability of space-time as conditions: space-time aases to be a j'u," , n , ..

i" order to become the totality or nexus ofdifferential relations in the s

and the objea ceases co be an empirical given in order to become the p i peruption. of these relations in conscous

'Difference is not diversity,' writes Deleuze. 'diversity is given, difference is that by which the given is given, by which the given given as diverse. '2S The error of the dogmatic image of thought is to deny diversity, but to tend to comprehend it only in terms generalities or genera. One of Deleuze's philosophic aims is to that the singularity and individuality of the diverse can only be prehended from the viewpoint of difference itself. The Idea of tion is constituted by two interrelated principles of difference: differential relations between genetic elements, and the differences intensity that actualize these relations. They do not indicate some of metaphysical reality beyond the senses; as Ideas they are po·sited _ order to account for sensibility, though they are not given in ence as such. Whereas in Kant, Ideas are unifying, totalizing transcendent, in Deleuzc, they are differential, genetic, and ent. It is the series of filters, for example, mat accounts for Nietzsche called the faculty of forgetting, or Bergson's claim perception is necessarily eliminative and subtractive: subjectivity (rather than simply has) an incomplete, prejudiced, and partial ception.26 Conversely, the significance of sensory distortions, those achieved in pharmacodynamic experiences or physicaJ OX" .,,;.. ces such as vertigo, is often to approach the intensive always implicated in the perception of extensity: a kind

!.���:;:�;�

of the senses" says Deleuze, that forms an integral part of entalism.27 Deleuze not only gives an account of 'narural

but also experiences that are often classed as 'pathological', to he assigns a positivity of their own. Indeed, in his commentary Leibniz, Deleuze goes so far as to write that

' every perception

hallucinatory because perception has no object', since it refers exch"ive\ to me psychical mechanism of differential relations among scious perceptions.28 This is why difference must be understood, as an empirical fact or even as a scientific concept, but as a ",onsce,nd: ental principle, as the sufficient reason of me sensible, as the being

�:�:!

the sensible. Descartes had posited the 'clear and distinct' as the highest p

of common sense, a principle that would be prolonged i� forms in the post-Kantian tradition extending through Fichte

Hegel: the finite mind finds its point of departure in a confused

Dcleuze's Theory of Sensation: O1;ercoming the Kancian Duality 39 ure understanding ofthe world, and reason constitutes a universal obsc gress towards the clear and distinct, 'the light which renders Ught possible in the common exercise of the faculties'.l' In the

��

! � ?

��

known [jgu e of Ma mo a d Cohen, Deleuze finds a 'minor' lesser . l rectly to Bergson and Nietzsche: a ition leadmg md n trad st.}(antia in itself confused, and is confused iruo f ar as ir is clear. The is idea c ar onscious perception of the noise of the sea, for example, is clear but onfused, for our perception comprehends the whole confusedly, and

� �only expresses clearly certain elements and relations depending on the

threshold of consciousness determined by our body. Conversely, the

components of the Idea are distinct but obscure: distinct, insofar as all the drops of water remain distinct as the genetic elements of percep· tion, with their differential relations, the variations of these relations, and the singular points they determine; but obscure, insofar as they

are not yet 'distinguished' or actualized in a conscious perception. Every sensation, in shon, is clear but confused, but is constantly plunged back into the distinct-obscurity from which it emerged. In Deleuze, the pn'ncipie of the clear and distiller is broken down inkJ two

irreducible values that can never be reunited to constitute a nalural light.

Deleuze's theory of sensibility, in sum, is opposed to Kant's on these

three n i terrelated points: the element of sensation must be found in the sign, and not the qualities of a recognizable object; the sign is the limit-object of the faculty of sensibility, beyond the postulates of recognition and common sense; the Idea of sensibility is constituted by differential relations and differences in intensity, which give a genetic account of thought and constitute the conditions of real, and not merely possible, experience, since the conditions are never larger than what they condition.

2

The Theory of Art: 'Pure Beings of Sensation' 2.1

:

Philosophy and An

ith this rather summary sketch of Deleuze's theory of sensation in

:nd, we are now in a position to determine its relation to the theory

�. an. If Deleuze's many writings on art constitute an integral part of p,hilosophy, it is because works of an are themselves explorations o�sthiS trans cendental realm of sensibility. The most general aim of art,

.

. aCCord'Ing to Deleuze, IS to produce a sensation, to create a 'pure

be'I g o f sensation', a sign.)O The work of an is, as it were, a 'machine'

o

r

?

apparatus' that utilizes these passive syntheses of sensation to

40

Daniel W Smith

produce effects of its owo. The genetic principles of sensation are at the same time the principles of composition of the work of an; conversely, it is the structure of the work of art that reveals conditions. Deleuze has consequently developed his 'logic' of

tion through a creative interaction with the various ans. In What Philosophy? Ddeuze defines philosophy as a practice of concepts, discipline that consists in the formation, invention, or creation concepts. 'One can very easily think without concepts,' he writes,

as soon as there is a concept, there is truly philosophy.'ll Art is equally creative enterprise of thought, but onc whose object is create sensible aggregates rather than concepts. Great artists arc great thinkers, but they think in terms of sensan·ons rather than cepts. Painters, for example, think in terms of lines and

musicians think in sounds, film-makers think in images, and so Neither discipline has any privilege over the other: to create a is neither more difficult nor more abstract than creating new audible combinations; and conversely, it is no easier to read an than it is to comprehend a concept. As a philosopher, Deleuze's aim in his studies of the arts is to the conceptS that correspond to these sensible aggregates.

Bacon: Logique tk Ia stnsan"on creates a series of philosophic concep each of which relates to a particular aspect of Bacon's paintings.

text is organized in a quasi-musical fashion, divided into ,,,,e,".

sequences or series that develop local concepts as if they were

lines, which in tum are made to enter into increasingly complex

puntal relations, and which together form a kind of conceptual

sition that parallels Bacon's sensible compositions. Similarly, D"le'uJI two-volume Cinema is 'a book of logic, a logic of the cinema' that out 'to isolate certain cinematographic concepts', concepts which proper to the cinema, but which can only be formed ph;lc"oph,k'.u� The same must be said for Deleuze's essays in music, literature, and theatre, notably those collected in Crin·que et clinique.JJ

Modem art and modem philosophy converged on a similar

lem: both renounced the domain of representation and instead the conditions of representation as their object. Paul Klee's

phrase echoes through Deleuze's writings on the arts like a kind motif: not to rmder the ttisible. but to render visible.)4 T'went;eth-"."tuI

painting aimed not at the reproduction of visible forms but the

entation of the non-visible forces that act behind or beneath forms. It attempted to extract from these intensive forces 'a block sensations', to produce a material capable of 'capturing' these

in a sensation. When pious critics reproached Millet for pa;n'tdll

/ Deleu:::e's Theory 0 Sensation: Overcoming the Kantian Duality 4 1 ant who preesasondsed by saying that what maners in the painting is not what the � t is carrying, but rather the exact weight common to the tw po��ec(ans: his aim was to render the force of that weight visible in the !nting. In the paintings of Cezanne, who gave this notion offorce its sion, mountains are made to exist uniquely through the t full expres rl I forces of folding they harness, landscapes through �eir cal logi �: al and magnenc forces, apples through the forces of germma­ �erT1lVan Gogh even invented unknown forces, such as the extraordi­ were carrying an offertory like a sack of potatoes, Millet

O

tion.

nary force of a sunflower. Proust discovered that what the worlds of visible are nothing other than the various invisible struc­ signs render tures of time (passing time, wasted time, time regained) . l5 Modem music has perhaps confronted this problem most directly, trying to develop a highly complex and elaborate material capable of making the nonsonorous forces of time audible, a material that could render

duration sonorous, as in the rise of timbre in Stravinsky and Boulez, Edgar Varese's ionization of sound, or John Cage's experiments in noise such as the prepared piano. 16 Properly speaking, there is no 'theory of art' in Deleuze: 'an' itself is

a concept, but a purely nominal one, since there necessarily exist 'diverse problems whose solutions are found in heterogenous arts'. Hermann Broch wrote that 'the sole raison d'itre of a novel is to discover what only the novel can discover',)' and each of the ans, and each work of an, confronts its own particular problems, utilizing its

own particular material and techniques, and attempting to capture i tensive forces of very diverse types. To say that the aim of an is not n

to represent the world, but to present a sensation (which is itself a

composition of forces, an intensive synthesis of differential relations), is to say that every sensation, every work of art is singular, and that the conditions of sensation are at the same time the conditions for the production of the new. For this reason, we will limit ourselves here to Deleuze's examination of the oeuvre of a single anist in Francis Bacon:

Tilt Logic 0/ Sensario'i

. z.z

The 'Figure '

O�e of th e most important concepts in Deleuze's analysis of Bacon is : at Deleuz e calls, following Lyotard, the 'figural', which stands PP osed to figuration or representation. The danger of figuration or r .: p \ resemati n in painting is that it is both illustrative and narrative: it e ates h o t e Image . . supposedly "Illustrates. thereby to an 0b"Ject th .at It SubOr , dtnating the eye to the model of recognition and losing the

42

Daniel W. Smith

immediacy of the sensation; and it relates the image to the images in the painting, thereby tempting us to discover a narrative between the images. As Bacon says, 'The story that is already

�:fc:s�'':

told between one figure and another begins to cancel out the ibilities of what can be done with the paint on its own" n,

plays a similar role in painting as does recognition in p

Painting has neither a story to [eU nor an object to represent:

painting itself is a sensation, an encountered sign. But this is p,ect.. what constitutes the difficulty of the artistic task: 'It is a very, close and difficult thing,' says Bacon, 'to know why some paint across djrecdy onto the nervous system and other paint tells the in a long diatribe through the brain.'39 We return to Deleuze's

Is: the sensation produced by the painting is something that can

be felt or sensed.

How does one attain a sensation in painting? Bacon's attempt 'paint the scream' is an exemplary case in point. His aim is not to the visible horrors of the world before which one screams, he says. rather the intensive forces that produce the scream, that convulse body so as to create a screaming mouth: the violence of a spectacle must be renounced in order to attain the violence of sensation. Expressed as a dilemma, one might say:

either he paints

horror (the 'sensational') and does not paint the scream, be,c..,,, represents a horrible spectacle and introduces a story; or he painb scream directly (the 'sensation') and does not paint the visible because the scream is necessarily the capture of an invisible Bacon, like Cezanne, was so severe with his own work, and destroyed or renounced many of his paintings, including many screams, it was because they failed to anain the sensation, and back into the cliches of figuration and narration. Deleuze poses

problem in this way: 'If force [intensityJ is the condition of ",.,do

it is nonetheless not the force which is sensed, since the

"gives" something completely different from the forces that condit! it.' So that the essential question of the artist becomes: 'How sensation be able to tum in upon itself, extend or contract sufficiently, in order to capture, n i what is given to us, forces that not given, in order to make us sense these unsensible forces,

elevate itself 10 its own com/ieions?'40

This then is the task faced

artist: How can the material used by the artist (paint, words, attain this level of forces? How can it become capable of 'b,,.r'n,:' . sensation? Deleuze suggests that there are two general routes through modem painting escaped the cliches of figuration and attempted

Delell::e'S Theory of Sensation: Owrcoming the Kamian Dllality

43

the sensation directly: either by moving towards abstraction, or . altai'n e first movement, towards movmg towar s the figu l. else by developed In several directIOns, but was perhaps marked ction, ab tra At one pole, an abstract art like that of Mondrian or mes. SIWO extre

�

r.a :n

�andinskY' though it rejected classical figuration, still retained an

forms that tried to rerme sensation, to dematerialize senal of abstract to reduce it to a purely optical code. It tended towards a plane of I; chitectonic composition in which the painting became a kind of

�

a radiant material that was primarily thought rather :piritual being, called the spectator to a kind of 'intellectual asceticism'. than felt, and At the other pole, abstract �xpreuionism, like that of Jackson Pollock,

went beyond representation nOt by painting abstract forms, but by dissolving all forms in a fluid and chaotic texture of lines and colours. It attempted to give maner its maximal extension, reversing its subor­ dination to the eye, exhibiting forces by a purely manual \ine that no longer oudined or delimited anything, but was spread out over the entire surface. Now in breaking with representation, both these poles of abstraction

also broke with the ancient hylomorphic model, which conceived of the artistic task as the imposition of form upon maner: the abstrac­

tionists wanted to free up the form in an optical code, while the

expressionists wanted to free up matter in a manual chaos. What the hylomorphic schema ignores in defining form and matter as twO

separate terms, as Gilbert Simondon showed, is the process of con­

tinuous 'modulation' at work behind them. Matter is never a simple or

homogenous substance capable of receiving forms, but is made up of intensive and energetic traits that not only make that operation

POssible but continuously alter it (clay is more or less porous, wood is more or less resistant); and forms are never fixed molds, but are determined by the singulan"ties of the material that impose implicit processes of deformation and transformation (iron mths at high tem­ peratures, marble or wood split along their veins and fibres). This is the importance of Deleuze's notion of intensity: beyond prepared

matter lies an energetic materiality in continuous variation, and be­

�ond fixed form lie qualitative processes of deformation and trans­ Ormation in continuous development. What becomes essential in

Odem an, in other words, is no longer the maner-form relation, :lit the maten·al-fora relation. The artist takes a given energetic al�rial composed of intensive traits and singularities, and syn� tStles its disparate elements in such a way that it can harness or apture these intensities, what Paul K1ee called 'the forces of the � osmos'.4 1

44

Daniel W. Smith

This task is not without ambiguity, technical and otherwise.

synthesis ofthe disparate elements of a material requires a co"',ln d.....

of consistetlcy, without which it would be impossible to distinguish

elements that constitute the sensation. Klee, for example, said that order to produce a complex sensation, in order to harness the "",cc• • the cosmos and render them visible, one must proceed with a

gesture that simplifies the material, selects it, limits it. All one ne"", i a pure and simple line, an inflexion, and he was infuriated when

complained about the 'childishness' of his drawings,42 If one muh;pl" the lines, if one elaborates too rich and complex a material, the that one is opening oneself up to all events, to all irruptions of but in fact one can merely wind up producing nothing but a that effaces all lines. a 'sloppiness' that in fact effaces the sensation. It was in order to avoid this danger, as well as the danger formalism, that Bacon followed a second path, which finds its sor in Cezanne. and for which Lyotard coined the term Whereas 'figuration' refers to a form that is related to an object it supposed to represent (recognition), the figure is the form that connected to a sensation. and that conveys the violence of this tion directly to the nervous system (the sign) . In Bacon's paln,;np,' is the human body that plays this role of the Figure: it functions as material support or framework that sustains a precise sensation. frequently begins by isolating the human body inside a contour, putting it inside a circle. a cube, a parallelepiped; balancing it on II placing it on an armchair or bed. The isolated Figure is then to a series of deformations through a series of manual

making random marks, throwing the paint at the canvas,

brushing the painting. These techniques have a double effect: one hand, they undo the organic and extensive unity of the body, instead reveal what Deleuze calls its intensive and non-organic on the other hand, these marks also undo the optical organization .

the painting itself, since this force is rendered in a precise

that does violence to the eye. The marks reveal the precise point application of the intensive force contorting the body, a cramp spasm twisting the figure [rom within. making the body shudder vibrate violently. Bacon's primary subject matter is the body by a plurality of forces: the violent force of a hiccup, a need to vomit or defecate, of copulation, the flattening force of Despite those who find Bacon's paintings horrific, Bacon's figures not tortured bodies, but ordinary bodies in ordinary situations discomfort, just as a person forced to sit for hours would Ineviitalbl assume contoned postures.

Deleuze'S Theory of Sensation: Overcoming the Kanrian Duality 45 Bacon, the Figure is the suppan for a precise sensation; without

!11support, the sensation would remain diffuse and ephemeral, lack­ �IS and duration. In many ways, Bacon's criticisms of expres­

g clarity l� m had already been anticipated in Cezanne's criticisms of sionis sensation IS not In rhe 'free' or d"Ismcamate play 0f . ressionism: colour; it is in the body, and not in the air, whether this body t and . the human body (Bacon) or the body of an apple (Cezanne).

;: :�ensa[jon is what is being painted,' writes Deleuze, 'what is painted .

.

.

on the canvas is the body, not insofar as it is represented as an object, but insofar as it is experienced as sustaining this sensation. '4) This then

media followed by Bacon: without a material framework, the is the via sensation remains chaotic, but on its own the framework remains abstract.

2.3

The Asymmetncal Synthesis a/ the Sensible

How does the Figure attain the 'sensation' n i Bacon's painting? We have seen that every sensation is intensive, it implicates within itself a difference in quantity between unequal forces; it is thus necessarily

synthetic, effecting a passive and asymmetrical synthesis between forces. 'Every sensation is already an "accumulated" or "coagulated"

sensation.'44 A sensation cannot capture the 'forces of the cosmos', in

other words, unless the anist is capable of effecting such syntheses in

the material. If we left the nature of these syntheses unexplored until now, it is because it is in the work of art that they are most clearly revealed. On this score, Deleuze has analyzed three fundamental types

of asymmetrical syntheses of the forces that Bacon effects in his work.4'

' Vibration " or the Connective Synthesis: the constrnccion ofa single sen'es.

The first type of synthesis is vibration, which characterizes a simple sensation. Even this simple type of sensation, however, is already

composite, since it is defined by a difference in intensiry that rises or falls, increases or decreases, an invisible pulsation that is more nervous than cerebral. Like every great paimer, Bacon will attain this vibratory tate prim arily through a complex use of colour. The Impressionists ad already discovered the role of complememary colours in paiming: . lf one is pa .Otlng grass, there must not only be a green on the canvas, l bUt also the complememary red, which will make the tone vibrate, and . achleve . a sunl'It sensation rhat IS . produced by the 'flash' between these

�

.

t'W

I

�

0 Complememary colours. Cezanne, after having reproached the

ressionists for submerging the object and depicting the atmo­ sP ere , refused to separate the tones according to the visual spectrum

46

Danul W Smith

(the Newtonian conception of colour) and instead mixed his plementary colours in critical proportions (in a manner closer Goethe's theory of colour than Newton's), thereby attempting restore to the object a 'Figure' through a progressive moliuialj01l 46 chromatic nuances. Bacon will do much the same when he stitutes the flesh of his Figures through a flow of po,ly"h,onlll colours, which are frequently dominated by blue and red, the of meat. 'Each broken tone indicates the immediate exercise of a upon the corresponding zone of the body or the head, it im.m"di." 47 renders a force visible .• When Deleuze writes, in the preface Francis Bacon, that the summit of the logic of sensation lies in 'colouring sensation', it is because, for the painter, 'rendered' through pure relations of colour, colour s i discowred on · upon which everything else depends. Even a differential relan sensation is a relation between colours, a vibration. Jean-Luc is one of the great colourists of the cinema, and his statement Weekend 'It's not blood, it's red' constitutes one of the 41 fonnulas of colourism. -

-

'Re1Qnana', or the Conjumtiw Synwru: the convergence of (az letul) senes. · The second type of syntheses. more complex. is that of ance. In this case, two simple Figures or sensations, rather than

being isolated and defonned, confront each other, like two in a 'hand-to-hand combat', and are thereby made to resonate. for instance. frequently puts two bodies in a single painting, that are copulating or sleeping entangled, in such a way that the themselves are rendered indiscernible. and are made to together in a single 'matter offact', in order to make som"th,ing that is irreducible to the two: this sensation, this Figure. argues that the great example of resonance in literature can be in Proust's involuntary memory. in which two sensations (f,,, ins... the present flavour of the madeleine and the past memory of bray) are coupled together in order to make a pure Figure appear

"PI'!

C�::�;:;;, ::

internalizes the difference between the two sensations: self. What is important n i resonance is that (at least) twO are coupled together. and from them is extracted an ineffable (Proust) or 'figure' (Bacon) that is irreducible to either of 49 something new is produced.

'Forced Movement', or Disjunctive Synthens: the affirmation ofdi'h�" sen·es. Finally, there is the most complicated of these syntheses, Deleuze calls a forced movement. This is no longer a coupling

sensations, but on the contrary their distention or deviation. In this appears most clearly in the triptychs, in which the Figures.

47 Delcllze'S Theory of Sensation: Overcoming the Kamia" Duality

or coupled, are set apan from each other in being isolated than How can the separated Figures oCthe triptychs be said els, pan ale e ar s p esent a single 'matter of fact'? It is because in them the separated r t� p such an extraordinary amplitude between them that res achieve f are broken: sensation is no longer dependent sensation of l mitS the i Figure per se, but rather the inlensjf)e rhythm 0/ force itself n a the Figure of the triptych. The Figures loosen their grip on each

st; ;::mes are no longer united by anything but the distance that and °[�er, and the light, the air, or the void which insens itself eparates them, a wedge. It is because of this amplitude that like them �etwi een uze assigns a privileged place to the triptychs in Bacon's work.�o

De e Vibration, resonance, and forced movement are the concepts Deleuze creates to describe the three types of syntheses that Bacon utilizes to 'paint the sensation'. In general, these constirute the intens­

ive conditions of sensation, the three 'varieties' of compositions of sensation, the three modalities of a 'being of sensation'. To be sure, each of these syntheses co-exist in Bacon's paintings, which are con­

crete assemblages of differences, mixed states. In the individual paint­ i gs, for example, the large fields of uniform colour already effect a n

distancing function similar to that of the triptychs (disjunction), but are likewise themselves composed of subtle variations of intensity or saturation (connection) ; and vibrations in turn are already effects of resonance, since they couple together diverse levels of sensation (con­ junction).51 The important point is that the artist utilizes these intens­

ive syntheses in order to produce 'a pure being of sensation'; the work of art is a functional 'machine' that produces effects of vibration,

resonance, and forced movement. The question that must therefore be posed to a work of art, argues Deleuze, is not 'What does it mean?' i terpretation) but rather 'How does it work? (experimentation) : (n

':'Vhat are the connections, what are the disjunctions, the conjunc­ bons, what use is made of the syntheses?'52 �e sensation itself, however, must not be confused with the materi­ these syntheses are effected. Art is composition, but the technical composition of the material is not the same as the aesthetic

al In

which

composition of the sensation. It is true that in fact (quid faca' ?) the sensation . Iasts no Ionger than ItS ' suppOrt or matenals (stone, canvas, ch ' ti

e�l cal

colour, etc.), But in principle at least (quidjun's ?), the sensa­ on IS of a different order than the material, and exists in itself for as lo as the material lasts Oil painting, Deleuze suggests, provides a . I example of this distinction, since it can be approached in two In

us�t :�ners. In a first case, the sensation is realized in Ihe maten'al and pr Jett ed Onto it: an outline is sketched on a white background, and

48

Daniel W. Smith

colour, light and shade are added afterwards. In a second cast, modem art has increasingly tended to adopt, it is the materia} passes into sensation: rather than beginning with a sketch, the gradually 'thickens' the background, adding colour alongside piling up or folding the material in such a way that the ",:hit"""" the sensation emerges from the medium itself, and the becomes indiscernible from the sensation. In either cast, how.v.. is matter itself that becomes expressive, so that one can say of sensation itself that it is metallic, crystalline, stony, colouring, on. The material constitutes the de facto condition of the 'eo,sa" and insofar as this condition is satisfied, even if only for a few (as in Tinguely's self-destructing creations), it gives the com"o'lIl4I created sensations the power to exist and to be preserved in itself: a 'monument'.H The work of an is thus a synthetic unity. But what is the this unity, if the heterogenous elements it synthesizes have no relation to each other than sheer difference? The elements together by the work of an cannot be said to be fragments of . unity or shattered totality, nor can the pans be said to prefigure the unity of the work through the course of a dialectical development or an organic evolution. Rather than ing as their totalizing or unifying principle, the work of art can understood as the effecl of the multiplicity of the disconnected (The work of art produces a unity, but this product is simply a

h.nmifi•• .that is added alongside the other parts. The artwork nei', totalizes these parts, but it has an effect on them because.

�it::,�:::�

syntheses between elements that in themselves do not c

and that retain all their difference in their own dimensions. An

��;�:

lishes 'transversals' between the elements of multiplicities, but

out ever reducing their difference to a form of identity or,

the multiplicity into a totality. The work of an, as a c

sensations, is not a unification or totalization of differences, but

the production 0/ a new dif!ere'lCe, and 'style' in art always begins the synthetic relations between heterogenous differences.'4 Deleuze's aesthetic theory is not a theory of reception, an

the spectator's judgments of a work of an, but a theory

written from the point of view of creation. Its guiding What are the conditions for the production of the new? In light question, our aim �as been to show how Deleuze's philosophY 'difference' overcomes the duality with which aesthetics has encumbered since Kant. On the one hand, in breaking with the of recognition and common sense, and the image of thought

heory of Sensation: De/tIIZe's T

Overcoming the Kantiatl Duality 49

derived, Deleuze locates the element of sensation, not . h they 3rt �hlC izable object but in an encountered sign. The sign con­ recOgn In, a

the limit-object of sensibility, an intensive product of diff'eren­

S�Ia�Utes elations: it is intensity, and not the a priori forms of space and

�

:

that constitutes the condition of real, and not merely possible, e On the other hand, these genetic principles of sensibility . cXPe eDe . . . Ies 0f composltton · · 0f tbe wark 0f an. same time tbe pnnclp the at

om

ri

th�se intensive synthes�s to produce a bloc of sensa­ �e artist uses . It the work of art Itself that reveals the nature of tum in nd a oos' �ese syntheses. In this way, Deleuze's logic of sensation reunites the IS

.

halves of aesthetics: the theory of forms of experience twO dissociated of the sensible') and the work of art as experimentation being 'the (as (as 'a pure being of sensation'). 'The work of art quits the domain of

representation in order to become "experience", transcendental em­ piricism or the science of the sensible.·n If Deleuze's various writings on art are, as he says, 'philosophy, nothing but philosophy', it is precisely because they constitute explorations of, and experimenta­ Dons within, this transcendental domain of sensibility.

NOTES For Deleuze's formulations of the aesthetic problem, see DiflertnCl and Rt�rilion ( l 968J, trans. Paul Patton, New York.: Columbia University

Press, 1994, pp. 56-7, 68; and Thl Lc,u oj Sensl (19691, trans. Mark Lester, ed. Constantin Boundas, New York: Columbia University Press, 1990, p. 260. 2 Plato, Republic, Vll, 523b. Deleuze appeals to this text in Difference and Repetition, pp. 138-42, 236; Nietzsche and Philosophy, Irans. Hugh Tom­ linson, London: Athlone, 1983, pp. 108, 2 1 0 (n. 33); Proust and Signs, trans. Richard Howard, New York: George Braziller, 1972, pp. 96, 166. 3 See Deleuze's analyses in K4nr's Critical Philosophy: The Doctrine 01 the FtUulties, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1984, esp. p. 1 5 . 4 PISlo, Repl4blic, 524d; see also Philebus, 24d; Parmenides 154-155; and Thtatlttus, 152-155. These paradoxes, known in antiquity as Megarian sOrites ('How many grains constitutes a heap?'), are treated in formal lOgic as 'vague predicates'; see Pascal Engel, The Norm oj the True, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1991, pp. 1 99-215. Deleuze treats he theme or becoming in The Logic 0/ Seme, series I, pp. 1-3. S ee. Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phe'lomenology oj Perceprion, trans. Colin S th, London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1967, pp. 216-17; Erwin mI slraus, Primary World 0/ the Senses: A Vindication 0/ Smsory Experi.

�

The

50

Daniel W. Smith ence, trans. Jacob Needleman, New York: Free Press, 1963, pp. and Henri Maldiney, Regard Parole EsptUt. Lausanne: Editiolll d'Hommc, 1973, pp. 134-8. For DeJeuze's criticisms, see Cinema Mowmtnt-Image, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habbcrjun, neapolis: University of Minnesota Press, p. 57; Francis Bacon;

10 sensation, Paris: Editions de la Difference, 1981, pp. 31-3; an4

ference and &pelilion, p. 137. 6

ProWl and Si gns. p. 36. Plato, in Deleuzc's reading, remains tied model of recognition in twO ways: in defining the sign as a contrariety, Plato confused the: being of the sensible with a sible: being [ais/hewnl. and he: related it to an already-uisting merely shifted the operation of recognition to the process of ccnce. For the critique of Plato, see DifftrenCl artd Repetitwn, pp. for Proust's break with Platonism, see Prouse and Sizns, pp. 96-1

7

The analysis of images of thought is one of the central objects leuze's philosophy: see in general Prouse and Sips, pp. 159-67; and Philosophy, pp. 103-10; and Di/fmnce and Repetition, pp.

�::�'::

More specific analysis of these 'noological' themes can be found Logic of Sense, pp. 127-33 (height, depth, and surface as

thought) and A Thousand Plateaus, trans. Brian Massumi,

University of Minnesota Press, 1987, pp.

3-25 (the tree and the

as images of thought), pp. 374-80 (the State-fonn venus

•

thought), and 474-500 (the smooth and the striated). 8

Martin Heidegger, Whae is Called Thi nking, trans. Fred D. Wieck

Glenn Gray, New York: Harper & Row, 1968, p. 28. Heidegger,

ever, still retains the theme of a desire orphJ;,., ,ub,tiltut;." m"".... the 'gift' for those of violence, and adhering to the subjective tion of a pre-ontologicai undentanding of Being. If Artaud

important rote in Deleuze's thinking, it is because his case p�"'"'''' clearest form, the fact that what thought is forced to think is

impotence, itS own incapacity to take on fonn on itS own: problem was not to orient his thought, but simply to manage to 'u.... something. Hence the detennining importance of images ofth, ' being mad belong to thought n i principle, or is it simply a

feature of the brain that should be considered as a simple

Difference and Repetition, pp. 146-7 (commentary on Artaud) and p. n. 1 1 (criticisms of Heidegger) . 9

Deleuze has analysed each of these figures of negativity: on m.p;':;. Nietzsche and Philosophy, p. 105 ('stupidity is a structure of such . . . it is not error or a tissue of errors . . . there are

thoughts, imbecile discourses that are made up entirely of '"',''''� convention, see Proust and Signs, p. 160 ('truths remain "t,;",,,, abstract so long as they are based on the goodwill of thinking.

conventional is explicit . . . Minds communicate to each other onl1 conventional'); on opinion, see What is Philosophy1, trans. Hugh

Deleu:e 'S Theory of Sensation: Owrcoming the Kantian Duality

51

Burchell, New York: Columbia University Pr�s, 1 994, n and Graham 44-(,opinion s i a thought closely molded on the form of recogni­ 5 0 1

50

cliches, particularly as they pose a problem for the artist, see ���'); onement-Image, . pp. 208-9, and Francu Bacon,

pp. 57-63. Proust, jealousy is not a disease of love but its truth, its According to finality, and all love is 'a dispute over evidence', 'a delirium of signs'

The Mov 10 "

122). (Proust and Signs, PP: .1 17, Dif!ere,,,e and Repetlnon, p. 144;

sec also

.

.

Expremomsm

.

m

. Philosophy:

Spi,/O:!(l, trans. Manin Joughin, New York: Zone Books, 1 990, p. 149: 'One is always struck by the diverse inspirations of empiricists and rationaliSts. One group is surprised by what fails to surprise the others. If we listen to the rationalists, truth and freedom are, above all, rightS; they wonder how we can lose our rights, fall into error or lose our libeny . . .

From an empiricist viewpoint, everything is invened: what is surprising is

12 Il

that men sometimes manage to understand truth, sometimes manage to understand one other, sometimes manage to free themselves from what fetters them. ' Sylvester, Francis Bacon,

The Brutality of Fact: Inlerows with David

London: Thames and Hudson, 1975, p. 18.

i the Kant presents this theory of common sense n

Critique of Judgment,

SJ8-22, §40. 14 Sec ibid., S29, General Remark. Kant's 'Analytic of the Sublime' lies at the centre

ofJean-Franc;ois Lyotard's conception of'posnnodc:m' art, which he

defines as that which prumu the

unpru.muWk in his essay 'Answering the Posrmodem Condition: A Report

Question: What is Posnnodemism?,' n i TM

on Knowledge, trans. Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi, Minneapolis:

University of Minnesota Press, 1984, pp. 71-82. There is a profound diffetn t ce between Deleuzc and Lyotard, despite numerow lines of conver­ gence between their respective theori� of an: Delcuzc's theory is derived

from an analysis of sensibility (intensity), whereas Lyowd's is derived from the faculty of the imagination (the sublime). Lyotard sometimes speaks of the 'imagination or sensibility' in the same sentence (e.g., pp. 80, 81), but

without ever taking the funher step of extracting the limit-element of sensi­ bility, which is precisely not that of the imagination. The difference would

scem 10 bear on the nature ofthe Ideas appealed 10 each instance: transcend­ ent n i the case: of the imagination, immanent in the case of sensibility. For

15

Lyolard's analysis ofthe sublime, sec his m i ponant commentari� in Ln£ons on theAnalytic oftlu SubJimt, trans. Elizabeth Rottenberg, Stanford: Stanford

University Press. 1994. Salomon Maimon,

Berlin: Qber di t rrans%mdalllal Chri stian Vos, 1 790. For commentary, see above all Manial Gueroult, Paris: Alean, 1929.

Venuch

phiJosophit,

La phi/osophit transctndentale de Salo"um Marmon, �sp: PP. 55ff and 76ff; Sylvain Zac, Salomon Marmon: Critiqut de Kant, ans: C::erf, 1988, esp. ch. 6; and Frederick Beiser, The Fate of Reason, Cambndge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1987, pp. 295-303.

"qo;:",. o

tR'!-.

Daniel W. Smith

52

16

::; ����

Note on the differenti41 relation, The nature o f the differen "';' I : ; be made clear by comparing three types of relation d; ; mathematics. A fiTSt type is e1ilablished between elements that

selves independent or autonomous, such as 3 + 2 or 2/3. The are real. and these relations themselves must be said to be real.

ty�. for example Xl + Y. - RI = 0 (the algebraic equation for the

established between terms whose value is unspecified, but which thelcss must in tach CIISt have a determined value. Such relations called imaginary. But the third type of relation is established

elements that themsdves have no determined value, but that n,',,,,,,,

arc:

determined reciprocally in the relation: thus ydy + xcix = 0

universal of the circumference or the corresponding

dy/dx =-x/y (the expression of a curve and its trigonometric

These are differential relations. The elements of these relations detennined, being neither real nor imaginary: dy is completely

mined in relation to y, dx is completely undetennined in relation

they are perfectly determinable in the differential relation: the themselves do not exist apan from the differential relation into they enter and by which they are reciprocally detennined. This

lial relation, in turn, determines a singular point, and it is the set

poinls that detennines the topological space of a given ."�,..

triangle, for example, has three singular points, while

curves

and

are derived from more complex distributions). Sec Deleuze, 'A

�P�;� . �!��

reconniit-on la structuralisme?', in Fran�ois ChAlelel, ed., Hisroi,.

philosophie rome 8: Le XXe siicle, Paris: Hachene, 1972, Fold: Leibniz and the &roque. uans. Tom Conley,

London: University of Minnesota Press, 1993, p. 88;

17

Repetititm, pp. 172-5.

For Deleuze's interpretation of Lcibniz's theory of perception,

Fold: Leibni:: and the Baroque, ch. 7, 'Perception n i the

from which the above examples are taken. For Lcibniz's

sec Dijcourse on Metaphysiu, 533;

jal Mind, 514; Monadology, 520-25; Principla 0/ Nature and 18

and the New Euays, chapter I .

�:�;:.:'t:.:�;':

Henri Bergson, The Creatiw Mind, trans. Mabelle L. Andison,

New Jersey: Littlefield, Adams & Co., 1965, p. 225. example in

'La Conception de la difference chez Bergson ' ,

niennes 4, 1956, pp. 77- 1 1 2 , and draws out its consequences in

TIu

0/ Sellse, p. 136: 'To have a colour is not more general than to be

because it is only this colour, and this green which is this nuance, related to the individual subject. This rose is not red without

redness of this rose. ' Deleuze is closer to Goethe than Newton.

l:'!'!

theory of colour has similarly been retrieved in cenain ,o,"
' heory of Sensation: Overcoming the Kamiall Duality Deleuze s T

19

20

[0 describe; see James Gleick, Chaos: Making a New Science, alwayS easy ere, 1988, pp. 164-6. Sph London: could s�eak of a white society or a wh te langu�ge, which e o wise, � Like . in Its vtrtuahty all the phonemes and relations destmed to be ins nla C tua l iz ed in the diverse languages and in the remarkable parts of a same DifferellCe and Repetition, pp. 20}-7. For a fuller analysis of a nguage; see musical form along these lines, see Jean-Fran�ois Lyotard, 'Several Silen­ ces' , in Dnltworks, ed. Roger McKeon, New York: Semiotext[e), 1984, pp. 99-110. .. Immanuel Kant, CMtlque 0/ Pure Reason, trans. Norman Kemp Smith, London: Macmillan, 1929, A1691B2 1 1 : 'Every sensation has a degree, that is, an intensive magnitude which can always be diminished (to the Every colour, as for n i stance red, has a point where the intensity = OJ . degree which, however small it may be, is never the smallest; and so with heat, the moment of gravity, etc.' Hermann Cohen, Kants Theone der Erjahnmg, 2nd edn, Berlin: Dumm­ ler, 1885, p. 428: 'Space and time itself, the sensible conditions of the unity of consciousness, insofar as they represent quanta continua, are constiruted as continua by the realily oj interuive magnitude as the condi­ tion of thought. Intensive magnitude consequently appears immediately as the prior condition of the extensive . . . Such was the necessity that led to the infinitely small, positing something that became a unity not in i relation to Zero' (p. 428). See Jules Vuillemin's relation to One but n commentaries in L 'Heritage kanrien et la ri'Volution copernicienne: Fichu, Cohen, Heidegger, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1954, pp. 132-207. Difference and Repetition, p . 20: 'By "sign" we mean what happens within such a [differential] system, what flashes across the intervals when a communication takes place between disparates. The sign is indeed an effect. but an effect with two aspects: in one of these it expresses, qua Sign, the productive dissymmetry; in the other it tends to cancel it.' Frallcis Bacon, p. 34; Difference ond Reperirion, p. 230. Kant himself admitted that this schematizing power of the imagination was 'blind', 'an art concealed in the depths of the human soul', an activity 'nature is hardly likely ever to allow us to discover' (Cririque oj Pure Reason, A78fB J03, AI41/BI80-181). It is for this reason that Heidegger tOok the imagination as the focal point of his reading of Kant, in KiJnr and the Problem 0/ Metaphysics, trans. James S. Churchill, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 196 2. ert1/ce and Repetition, p. 222. IC\Zsche, Genealogy 0/ Morals, Essay II, §l, pp. 57-8: 'What we experi­ �nce and absorb enters our consciousness as little while we arc digesting It as does the thousandfold process involved in physical nourishment . . . so that it will be immediately obvious how there could be no happi­ ness, no cheerfulness, no hope, no pride, no preSel'll, without forgetful-

!

� �

..

21

22

23 24

25

26

53

�W

. • .

Daniel W.

54

Smith

ness.' Berpon, Matter and Memo!)" trans. Nancy Margaret Paul and W. Scan Palmer, New York: Zone Books, 1988, pp. 35-6: we never perceive objects per se, but rather objects us 27

as

minus those aspects that do not intereat

a function of our needs.

Difference and Repetirion, p. 237. In the chapter on 'The Perception­ Image' in The Mowment-Imap, Deleuze argues that, if the cinema goes

beyond normal perception, it is in the sense that it reaches this genetic

element of a1l possible per�ption: 'In the "'kino-eye", Ven.ov was aimine

to attain or regain the system of universal variation in itself,' to 'reaeb "another" perception, which is also the genetic element of all perception' 28

29

(pp. 80-6).

The Fold: Ltibni:: and the Baroque, p. 93. Difference and Repetition, p. 213. Martial

Gueroult discusses the role

thia

notion played n i post-Kantian philosophy in L'Ewlution et la suucrure .

la Doctrint de la Science chez Fichu, Paris: I.es Belles I.ettres, 1930, vol.

':::i'���

pp. 14ff ('clear and distinct understanding was posited as the fruit of continuous development whose point of departure was the

understanding, the sole fonn under which the totality of the could be given originally in the finite mind'). 30 31

W'hat is Philosophy', p. 167.

Deleuze, NegotUltions 1972-1990, trans. Martin Joughin, New York:

umbia, 1995; d. The T imt-Image,

trans.

Hugh Tomlinson and

Galeta, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1989, p. 280: theory of cinema does not bear on the cinema, but on the concepts

cinema, which are no less practical, effective, or existent than ,h "in"m� itself.'

32

Negotiations 1971-/990, p. 47. The Mowmtnt-lmage, p. ix.

34

Paul Klee, 'SchOpferische Konfession', in Das Bildnersiche Dtnken,

33

Deleuze, Critique et clinique, Paris: Minuit, 1993. 1964, p. 76,

p. 342;

sec

as

quoted in Franci s Bacon, p. 39 and A Thousand PI'.",....

also Maldiney's commentary in Parole Regard Es/Xlce,

1 4 3-6. Lyotard's similar formula - 'not to represent, but to present

unpresentable' - is discussed in 'The Sublime and the Avant-Garde',

.

The Inhuman: Reflections on Time, Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Universitf 35

Press, 1988, pp. 89-107.

See ProUSl and Signs, pp. 17-18: 'Time, which usually is not visible, seeD

out bodies in order to become visible, seizing bodies wherever it en-­ counters them so as to cast its magic lantern,' modifying this feature someone we knew long ago, elongating, blurring, or crushing that one. Deleuze distinguishes four structures of time in Proust: lost time is both 'passing time' and 'waned time'; time regained is both a 'time recovered'

at the heart of time lost, and an 'original time' that is affirmed in an. 36 37

For these examples, see A Thousand pta/taws, p. 343; Francis Bac0I1, p. 39.

Quoted in Milan Kundera, The Art ofIhe N(1'IJti, trans. Linda Asher, New' York: Grove Press, 1988, pp. 5, 36.

De/euze's Theory of Sensation: Overcoming the Kantian Duality 55 38 Bacon, The Bmralil)' 0/ Fact, p. 23. 3 9 Ibid., p. 18. 40 Francis Bacon, pp. 39-40. 41 Gilbert Simondon, L'individu et so genise physiw-biologique, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1964; Deleuze was heavily influenced by Simondon's text.

42

Paul Klee,

On Modern An, trans. Paul Findlay, n i tro. Herbert Reed, 1966, p. 53: 'Had I wished to present man "as he is",

London: Faber,

then 1 should have had to use such a bewildering confusion of lines that pure elememary representation would have been out of the question. The result would have been vagueness beyond recognition.'

43 Fra/zcis Bacon, p. 27. 44 Francis Bacon, pp. 28-9; cf. Difference and ReJHlition, p. 234. 45 The primary texts on these sensible syntheses in art are: Frana! Bacon, pp. 48-9; What is Philosophy?, pp. 167-8; and Proust and Signs, pp. 1 3 1-42. 46 In Newton, for example, the 'optical' grey is obtained through a combi­ nation of black and white, whereas in Goethe the 'haptic' grey is obtained through a combination of green and red. See Goethe, Color Rupprecht Manhaei, New York: Van Nostrand,

Theory, ed. 1971. On Cezanne's

relation to the Impressionists with regard to colour, see Maurice Mer­ leau-Ponty, 'Cezanne's DOUbt,' in

The Essential WritingJ, ed. Alden L. 1969, p. 236.

Fischer, New York: Harcourt, Brace & World,

47 Francis Bacon, p. 96. 48 The Movement-Image, p. 1 1 8. On these relations of colour, see Deleuze's discussion in Francis Bacon, ch. 15, 'La traversee de Bacon', pp. 93-7. 49 On the role of resonance in involuntary memory, see Proust and Signs, ch. 5, 'The Secondary Role of Memory', pp. 5 1-64 Goyce's 'epiphanies', Deleuze suggests, can be analysed in the same manner). On coupling in

50

Bacon, see Francis Bacon, ch.

9, 'Couples et triptyques,' pp. 45-9. Francis Bacon, ch. 10, 'Qu'est-ce

On 'forced movemem' in Bacon, see qu'un triptyque?', pp.

51-6. The question concerning the conditions

under which disjunction can be a fonn of synthesis (and not an analytic procedure that excludes the predicates of a thing by vinue of the identity of its concept) is one of the decisive questions posed by a philosophy of difference. though it lies beyond the scope of this paper. For Deleuze's discussions of the problem. see 'La synthese disjonctive' (with Guartari), in L' A rr: 43 1970, pp. 54--62 and The Logic 0/ Sensarion, pp. 172-6,

'1

294-7 - . Whal is Philosophy? (p. 168), Deleuze suggests that, of all the arts, it is

In

perhaps sculpture that presents these three syntheses in an almost pure

state: first, there are the sensations of stone, marble, or metal, which vibrate according

10

strong and weak beats; second, there are the pro­

tuberances and cavities in the material, which establish powerful combats that interlock and resonate with each other; and finally, there is the set-up

56

52 53 54

55

Daniel W. Smith of th� sculptu�. with larg� empty spaces between groups, or even within a single group, in which one no longer knows if it s i the light or air that sculpts or is sculpted. Deleuze and Guanari, Anti-Oedipus, trans. Roben Hurley, Mark Seem and Helen R Lane. New York: Viking, 1977, p. 109. On the relarion of the sensarion to the material, see What is PhilosofJhy�. ch. 7, passim, esp. pp. 1 9 1-7. See Anti-Otdipws, p. 42: the work or art 'is a whole o/its constituent pans but does not totalize them; it is a unity of its particular pans but it does not unify them; rather, it is added to them 85 a new part fabricated separately'. On the concept of 'transvenality' fonnulated by Guanari, see Anust and Signs, pp. 149-50 (and p. 157, n. 106). Difftrtnu and Repetition, p. 56.

4

Idea and Destination Jean-Michel Salanskis

The greatest virtuosity and the most intense manifestation of a sover­ eign mind 3re to be found in the fifty-three pages of the chapter 'Ideas

and the Synthesis of Difference' of the magical

tion.

Difference mId Repeti­

Twenty years ago, discovering Deleuze's text and sharing

in the

Deleuzian excitation, I tried to align my own efforts by this auspicious

marker, and to formulate my own audacious project in the wake oHts lofty discussion of the problematizing powers of the idea. It may be of interest to nOle that it was not the affirmation of desire in any fonn that retained our interest - despite what was said by a narrow and mean critique soon after the book's publication - but rather the affirmation of the lightness and fecundity of the ideas which traverse OUf culture: it offered the means to think the genius and the disruptive force of thought across the whole range of possible intellectual acts and territories of signs. In a way the Deleuze that we loved and who enthralled us was. not the unlikely and moreover displaced cantor of our experimental years. but the voice of the French university, know­ ing and communicating the universality of intellectual joy. So many years later, I bear witness to this experience by picking up again the thread of the discussion with 'Ideas and the Synthesis of Difference' but from an altogether different philosophical perspective: as a philosopher of mathematics, but also as one who strives to prOmote a philosophy of sense by drawing upon the hermeneutical tradition. It is a remarkable fact in the history of ideas that this royal chapter has performed, for some of us side-tracked mathematicians

in

�earch of philosophy,l a distinguished function in orienting our read­ Ings and reflections toward Albert Lautman. The French publisher Christian Bourgeois and Deleuze rescued us from the logico-analytic

rut in the philosophical appreciation of mathematics by giving us the

58

Jean-Michel SaJanskis

possibility of and the taste for reading !.autman who, before his death, wrote a philosophy of mathematics1 inspired from beginning to end by wonder at the first stages of the proliferation of Bourbakian mathema­ tics.' This is obviously a better approach than via the propositions of ZFC, in much the same way that the shared love of Julien Sorel for Madame de Renal andlor Mathilde de la Mole seems a benet passport to the comprehension of TJu Red and the Black than a manual of grammar. The conceptual link between Deleuze and Lautman is that the fonner theorized jdeal actualization in a general way, while the latter studied its philosophical logic and technical examples within the framework of mathematics alone. Deleuze privileges mathematical language, making use of mathematical tenns to describe the properties of all ideas. but he thinks the idea in a general. transcuhural way: indeed, ODe aspect of his conception is that the idea is essentially pluridisciplinary. Let us attend to his discourse in more detail.

The Deleuzian Theory of the Idea and its Repercussions Deleuze begins by saying that the idea is essentially problematic. We learn from Kant that Reason, as the faculty of ideas, is the faculty of problems, including false problems. This said, ideas are m.:ri."ical ' identical with the manner in which they give rise to the drama actualization. The passage to the actual itself can be described in term. of an adventure of determination: (1) indetennination, (2) analogical determinability in relation to objects, (3) the horizon of co.m�,le.:e determination. These three moments are those discovered by Kant in his analysis of the regulative function of ideas with regard to concepts of the understanding.4 But Deleuze also presents the dynamism of the idea by recalling the old foundational aporia of infinitesimal calculus. From this, he fint draws the idea of a pure element 0/ quantitability. associating it with the absolute quantitative indetennination of dx (with regard to all finite values of x):

,,-

The continuum

truly

belongs to the realm of Ideas only to the extent

that an ideal cause of continuity is determined. Taken together with its cause, continuity forms the pure element of quantitability

. . .s

Next, Deleuze philosophically retains dy/dx. in so far as this is the accomplishment of reciprocal detenninability, as the pure element 0/ qualitability:

Idea and Desrinarion

59

in so far as it �xpr�ss�s another quality, the diff�rential relation r�mains (ied to th� individual values or to the quantitative variations correspond­ ing to that quality (for �xample, tangent), It is therefore differentiable in turn, and testifies only to the power of Ideas to give rist: to Id�as of Ideas. The universal in relation to a quality must not, therefore, be confus�d with the individual values it takes in relation to anoth�r quality, In its universal function it express�s not simply that oth�r quality but a pure clement of qualitability.6

Finally, the moment of complete determination is associated with the relation according to which a magnitude is a power of another, such as is systematized notably by the Lagrangian notion of the power series, which leads to the naming of the pure element ofpocenn'aliry: This time, following Lagrange's presentation, the depotentiaisat J ion con­ ditions pure potentiality by allowing an evolution of the function of a variable in a series constituted by the powers of i (undetermined quan­ tity) and the cocfficienrs of these powers (ncw functions of x). in such a way that the evolution of that variable be comparabl� to that of the others, The pure element of potentiaity l appears in the first cocffici�nt or the first derivative, the other derivatives and consequently all the t�rms of the series resulting from the repetition of the same operations.7

Alongside this insistent tale of actualization, Deleuze presents the idea as a mulriplicity, and as giving rise to varieties which 'perplicate' Culture, The affirmation of multiplicity against the vain opposition of the one and the many is in fact one of the most constant anicles of the Deleuzian argument. Compare the following text from Difference and Repetirion: multiplicity must not designate a combination of th� many and the one, but rather an organisation belonging to the many as such, which has no n�ed whatsoever of unity in order to form a system, The one and the many are concepts of the understanding which make up the overly lOOse r�ach of a distorted dialectic which proceeds by opposition, The biggest fish pass through, Can we believe that the concr�t� is anained where th� inadequacy of an abstraction is compensated for by the inadequacy of its opposite? We can say 'the one is multipl�, the multiple one' for ever: we speak like Plato's young m�n who did not even spare the farmyard,8 with these two passages from Rhizome: Be neither a One nor a Many, but multiplicities!'

60

Jean-Michel Salamkis

At each n i stance there must be mental proof-readers [0 dismantle the dualisms that we didn't want to make and through which we pass. To arrive at the magic formula we are all seeking: PLURAUSM

=

MON­

ISM, by passing through all the dualisms which are the enemy, but the altogether necessary enemy, the furniture we never stop moving around. 10

One of the consequences of this thought of the idea as multiplicity is the visionary conception that OeJeuze proposes of structural multi. pUcity, to which I will return below. For the moment, what interests me is the triple organization into varieties associated with ideal multi. plicity: Ideas arc varieties which include in themselves sub-varieties. We can distinguish three dimensions of variety. In the first, venical dimension we can distinguish

ordinal !Jan'etjes

according to the nature of the ele­

ments and the differential relations: for example, mathematical, mathe­ matico-physical,

chemical,

biological,

physical,

sociological

and

linguistic Ideas, , , , Each level implies differentials of a different dialec­ tical 'order,' but the elements of one order can pass over into those of another under new relations, either by being dissolved in the larger superior order or by being reflected in the inferior order, In the second, horizontal dimension we can distinguish

characun'stic !Jane/in

corre­

sponding to the degrees of a differential relation within a given order, and to the distribution of singular points for each degree (such as the equation for conic sections which gives according to the case an ellipse, a hyperbola, a parabola or a straight line; or the varieties of animal ordered from the point of view of unity of composition; or the varieties of language ordered from the point of view of their phonological sys­ tem), Finally, n i depth we can distinguish

axiDmatic !Janeties

which

determine a common axiom for differential relations of a different order, on condition that this axiom itself coincides with a third-order differen­ tial relation (for example, the addition of real numbers and the com­ position of displacements; or, in an altogether different domain, the weaving-speech practised by the Griaule Dogons), Ideas and the dis­ tinctions between Ideas are inseparable from their types of varieties, and from the manner in which each type enters into the others, We propose the term 'perplication' to designate this distinctive and coexistent state of Ideas. 1 1

Can it be said more clearly that the ideal dimension refolds and culture onto and n i to itself in a manner which is inextricable be"us.: profound and because it occurs in thought? This vision nevertheles'

poses the problem of the privilege granted in this chapter [0 the mathematical formulation of the ideal. This privilege is absolute when,

Idea and Destination

61

as we saw above. what was at stake was the description of the canon­ ical path of actualization, and something of it remains in the evocation among which are included the axiomatic of the preceding tJarieties -

varieties. Here is Deleuze's answer: Furthermore we must not see mathematical metaphors in aU these expressions such as 'singular and distinctive points; 'adjunct fields,' and 'condensation of singularities,' nor physical metaphors in 'points of fusion or congelation . . . ,' nor lyrical or mystical metaphon in 'love and anger.' These arc categories of the dialectical Idea, the extensions of the differential calculus (mothesis ul1it!ersolis but also universal physics, universal psychology and universal sociology) corresponding to the Idea

in all its domains of muitipliciry.12

Granted. But as we have seen and as this passage betrays in placing mathematics at the head of its two enumerations, the 'categorization of the dialectical Idea' seems to have a particularly immediate or intimate relation to mathematics. It seems indeed that Deleuze con­ jures away, under the weight of a universality he is in fact entitled to affirm. the probable significance of an order of exposition of that universality, the necessity of which everything here points to and which is constantly attested by his own approach. In order to complete Deleuze's theory of ideas. we must yet give an account of new considerations of the notion of actualization on the one hand, and of the instance of the question on the other. In fact, it is in order to give us a clearer understanding of actualization that Deleuze refers in detail to Lautman. There is an 'ideal genesis' called

differemiation, on which is modelled a dllfermciotion in the register of the actual. On the side of the ideal. the problem is determined, its own singular points precipitated, and the parts with their distinctions

which will constitute the actual are deduced from this problematic distribution of an ideal polarizalion in the virtual. Differenciation occurs in the actual space of solutions. The way in which the trajec­ tOries of a vector field depend on the topology of the domain in which this field is defined and the singularities of the same field make it the

paradigm of this process of actualization: One thinks in panicular of the role of the regular and singular poin15 which enter into the complete determination of a species of curve. No

dOubt the specification of the singular points (for example, dips, nodes, focal points, cente") is undertaken by means of the form of integral CUrves, which refers back to the solutions for the differential equation.

'there is nevenheless a complete determination with regard to the

62

Jean-Michel SaJanskis

existence and distribution of their points which depends upon a coQ).. pletely different instance - namely, the vector field defined by

the

equation itself. The complementarity of these two aspects does not obscure their difference in kind - on the contrary. Moreover, if the

specification of the points already shows the necessary immanence 01 the problem in the solution, its involvement in the solution which covera

it, along with the existence and the distribution of points. testifies to the transcendence of the problem and its directive role in relation to organisation ofthe solutions themselves. 1 )

the

The philosophical framework is thus Lautman's notion of a t",",c., cnee-immanence of mathematical ideas: Following Lautman's general theses, a problem has three aspects: . difference in kind from solutions, its transcendence in relation to solutions that it engenders on the basis of its own detenninant tions; and its immanence in the solutions which cover it, the p",bll...

being the better resolved the more it is determined. Thus the connections constitutive of the problematic (dialectical) Idea are nated n i the real solutions which are constituted by mathematical ories and carried over into problems in the fonn of solutions. 14

But Deleuzian thought intends to refuse at once both object subject. It is thus extremely important for this thought to th.em., the unconscious character of ideas in order to guard against attribution of problems to a subjective origin. This is the function

�:::,: ;:;�:::

will be performed by the instance of the question, as underscored Deleuze, following Lauanan. Indeed, the u nconsc c>· ou , ideas will be assured by the fact that the on"gi'l of the i, does not belong to the register of consciousness.

In a first stage, it is supposed that problems arise out of questions, that it is therefore necessary to distinguish clearly between them.

instance of the question is then assigned to the 'ont"lo.gy ol'th" "wmi< (the so-called 'modem' ontology) whose principles Deleuze recalls:

(I) far from being an empirical state of knowledge destined to disappear in the response once a response is given, the question silences

all

empirical responses which purpOrt to suppress it, in order to force the one response which always continues and maintains it: like Job, in insistence upon a first-hand response which becomes confused with question itself (fir.>t power of the absurd);

hit

(2) whence the power of the

question to put in play the questioner as much as that which is quCS-­ rioned, and to put itself in question: Oedipus and his manner of never being finished with the Sphinx (second power of the enigma);

(3)

Idea and Destination

63

the revelation of Being as corresponding to the question. reduc­ hence to the questioned nor to the questioner but that which either n le I in an aniculation of its own Difference: a me on which is both unites -bei n g 'non.frn!j nor the being of the negative, but non­ non ither or the be ng �fthe question: ylyue and the response bani) "wIing � ' o one' (third power, which IS that of the philosophical Odyssey).15 N

�

�

�:

eggerian character of this thought I believe is immediately 111e Heid Deleuze gives a twist to the ontology of the question, which t Bu . lear

Fint of all, he insists on the imperatiw �" still not adequate to his ends. . s: to quesuon character inherent

Questions arc imperatives - or rather, queJtions express the

relation

be­

tween problems and the impuaritJes from which thlJl proceed. Is it neceuary

10 lake the example of the police in order to demonstrate the imperative

i character of questions? 'I'm asking the questions.' In fact, however, it s already the dissolved self of the one being questioned which speaks

through his tonurer. Problems or Ideas emanate from imperatives of adventure or from events which appear in the form of questions. 16 But in the next movement the imperative becomes the affirmation of

chance, the throwing that originates the distribution of the singular points of the problem: h is rather a question of a throw of the dice, of the whole sky as open

space and of throwing as the only rule. The singular points are on the die; the questions are the dice themselves; the imperative is to throw. Ideas are the problematic combinalion! which result from throwsY And

further on:

The most difficult thing is to make chance an object of affirman·on, but

it is the sense of the m i perative and the questions that it launches. Ideas emanate from it just as singularities emanate from that aleatory point

which every time condenses the whole of chance into one time . . . What does it mean, therefore, to affirm the whole or chance, every time, in a

Single time? This affinnation takes place to the degree that the dis­ parates which emanate from a throw begin 10 resonate, thereby forming

a problem. The whole of chance is then indeed in each throw, even thOUgh this be panial, and it is there in a single time even though the Comb ination produced is the object of a progressive determination.18

SUCh

·

IS

0

presented.

eleuze 's theory of the Idea, although too summanly To what use does he put it in what we might call the .

64

Jean-Michel Salanskj i

epistemological order that interests us here? Essentially two on the one hand, he enters into the debate between the piooeen

analysis on me signification of infiniu=simal language, and on the other hand he develops and to a large extent anticipates w� Jean Perilor now calls morphodynamic ideas (grounding them t",hn;" ally in the mathematical work of Rene Thorn). Petitot himself

often drawn attention to the visionary and profound character

Deleuze's

presentation

of the

notion

of structural

found on pages 182 to 184 of DiJlermce and Repetition. 19 This is explicitly applied to linguistics on pages 203 to 206, where leuze recalls the imponance of Gustave Guillaume, who played a in the school of Gestalt thought and who is the precursor of what today calh=d cognitive grammars. In the same chapter, there is also striking description of biological individuation, panicularly of

genesis of organic functions, in the terminology of m,o'l,h.odynaali ideas.

What does Deleuze say about the infinitesimal of Leibniz and pioneers all the way up to Weierstrass? From the debate on legitimacy of the infmitesimal, Deleuze extracts what is at stake in relation of representation to the finite/infinite couple: The interpretation of the differential calculus has indeed taken the form of asking whether infinitesimals are real or fictive. From the beginnina. however, other issues were also involved: is the fate of calculus tied to infinitesimals, or must it not be given a rigorous status from the point of view of finite representation?2o

��;;�

With reference to Camot's Reflecliotll on the Metaphysics of the

nitesimal Calculus, Deleuze sets fom his hypothesis that the d tials belong in fact to the instance of the problematic, and

elude, not only the reaVfictive alternative of representation, but finite/infinite alternative as well: As we have �en, infinite and finite are indeed characteristics of

•

representation in so far as the concept that it implicates envelops all its possible comprehension or, on the contrary, blocks it. In any case, the representation of difference refers to the identity of the concept as its principle. We can therefore treat representations like propositions of consciousness, designating cases of solution in relation to the concept in general. However, the problematic element, with its extra-propositional character, does not fall within representation. Neither particular nor

general, neither finite nor infinite, it is the object of the Idea universa1.21

as

a

65 ution' seems to Oeleuze himself to smack of the critical This 'sol the first antinomy of pure reason. And this leads me to the to n olutio of the second result of the Deleuzian theory of ideas S tion a r de i COns is important: a certain reading of and a certain view my in hich repercussion is thus not aCthe same 'epistemo­ This Kant. with te eba we have so far examined, but deals with an which those as type logical' general. in hy philosop of trair a Dif jerellce a'id Repetition more or less constantly refers to Kant. In

�

particular. Deleuze strongly insists on the idea according to which Kant has co-defined both time and the fractured I: It is as though the I were fractured from one end to the other: fractured by the pure and empty form of time. In this form it is the correlate of the

passive self which appears in time. Time signifies a fault or a fracture in

i the self, and the correlation between the passive the I and a passivity n self and the fractured I constitutes the discovery of the transcendental, the element of the Copernican Revolution.22 It is with an appeal to this Kantian revolution that Deleuze introduces,

in the chapter entitled Repetition for itselJ. what he names the third

synthesis of time, after the synthesis by the habitus and the second by the

pure past. The third, which may be qualified as Nietzscheo-Kan­

tian, is the 'good' synthesis!

In the chapter on which I have been commenting, the dialogue with Kam quite naturally centers on the notion of the Idea. As we pointed out at the outset, Deleuze affirms that he has taken from Kant his

characterization of Ideas as problematic. In the passage just cited on the status of the infinitesimal, Deleuze gives a qualified evaluation of the Kantian critical solution: Kant is right in saying that the World is

not Submitted to the finite/infinite alternative, but he says so from too far within the perspective of representation and consciousness. In Deleuze's terms: The antinomy of the finite and the infinite emerges precisely when Kant feels himself obliged, by virtue of the special nature of cosmology, to

pour into representation the content corresponding to the Idea of the World . The antinomy is resolved, according to him, when on the one 3nd he discovers within representation an element irreducible to either IOfinity or finitude (regress); and when on the other he adds to this

�

element the pure thought of another element which differs in kind from representation (noumena). However, to the extent that this pure thought remains undetermined - or is not determined as differential _ repreSenta tion, for its parr, is not really overcome, any more than the

Jean-Michel Salanskis

66

propositions of consciousness which constitute the substance and details ohhc antinomies,n

the

Then Deleuze imputes to modem set�theoretical mathematics

tiOlIlii

same contradiction: its 'flniost' discourse of the limit and ofce,n

must pay the price of an axiom of infmity, which means bavina enclose infinity within representation (what he here calls the finite interpretation' of calculus given in contemporary set theory ' believe. congruent with what Penelope Maddy calls 'Cantorian ism' in her article 'Believing the axioms',24 namely the idea that

entities are so to speak seen and considered to be finite within theory).

A third element afthe DeleuzelKant confrontation in this chap'... , Difference and Repetition, perhaps in the end the most imponant, up the question of the schema. After having examined at length spano-temporal dynamisms act upon differenrlciation, the actu,�",,'10 of the ideal vinual- preferring to illustrate this conception in the of biology - Deleuze wonders if his spatio-temporal dynamisms anything to do with the schema. His answer is once again critical: the Kantian schema does not and cannot have, ac"m,di., our author, the powers Kant ascribes to it, since the schema submit to logical possibility given by the concept, and therefore nOt have the power of space and time. Hence the plea for the tion oCthe drama o/the Idea in place ofschematism: Schematism possesses an immense power: it can divide a concept specify it according to a typology. A concept alone is completely pable of specifying or dividing itself; the agents of differcnciation arc

spatio-temporal dynamisms which act within or beneath it, like a hiddal

an. Without these, we would still confront the questions which Aristotle

raised with regard to Platonic division: whert: do the halves come from? However, the schema does not account for the power with which it aett.

Everything changes when the dynamisms arc posited no longer as 5(:hc­ mata of concepts but as dramas of Ideas. For if the dynamism is extemll to concepts - and, as such, a schema - it is internal to Ideas - and, .. such, a drama or dream. . . . Dynamism thus comprises its own power

of determining space and time, since it immediately incarnates the differential relations, the singularities and the progressivities immanent in the Idea.25

One aspect of what Deleuze is proposing is thus a resorption of transcendental analytic into the transcendental dialectic, or similar gesture.

Idl!a and Destinalion

67

shall noW attempt to discuss Deleuze's theory of the Idea both in "ntrinsic mode and with a view to what it passes through and [0 an leads. where it

I

Deleuze, Lautman and the Destinal begin with the epistemology of mathematics linked to De­ We may which should in principle be quite close to Lautmanian view, e's leuz Lautman holds that the historical development ofmath­ logy. temo epis

ematicS coincides with the incursion into mathematical theories of 'Ideas' that are both transcendent and immanent to them: immanent

because the best explication of the content ofthe Idea is always theory, as the Idea is completely dependent on a theory for the rich and full

thematization which it may and must receive; transcendent because it also 'presents' itself in the form of an informal sk.etch - inscribable in an opposition such as IocaVglobal a non-technical, non-mathemat­ -

ical, so to speak metaphysical sketch.

As for Deleuze, this primitive

ideal moment of the Idea is link.ed to the instances of the problem and

the question. For Lautman, the question would be the insistence of the problem as such, which may be expressed as the urgency of comprehension before any attempt at a solution. When I tried to reconnect with what seemed to me Lautman's good and infinitely pertinent beginning of a phenomenological reading of mathematics, I nevertheless felt that Lautman could not cross the threshold to recognition of the structure of destination, a structure in my view absolutely essential to keep the instance of the question from being distorted. The most unavoidable condition for a question to be a question is indeed that it be addressed, received, experienced. This destinal dimension is present in Lautman in the form of an urgency of comprehension or again, in his own terms, of a logical preoccupation, an urgency and preoccupation that are constitutive of the originary situ­ . atIO n of the problematic idea. But, ( 1 ) on the one hand, he avoids qualifying the subjective place Where the logical preoccupation may arise, and with the vocabulary of urgency of comprehension or of preoccupation, he abstains from pr senti ng the originary ideal engagement as assumption, response, re aunc hing ireiatlCl!], as the insertion of a subject in a dialogic net­

�

....ork . . (2) On the other hand, in the account of the accumulation of

�

thematical

theories that he proposes at several places in his work,

man spontaneously slides into what may be called a metaphysical deUl SCriPtio n in the third person. The idea (dialectical, as he says), is in

68

Jean-Michel Salanskis

a state of originary incompleteness (it is only a sketch, only a lem), it will therefore seek the very special effectivity of th.,o,;.. attain greater coherence, legibility, conceptuality, and truth. But originary problematicity is not exhausted by this effectuation, idea may then issue in new theoretical overlays [recouvrements) . no way necessary to have recourse to the destinal structure to Set the dynamic of this effectuation or relaunching. As a result, Lauunan's discourse does not present the

":::�:�::=

investigation of its problem as a hermeneutic but, as I have

it, as a dialectic. In order to account for the historicity of

general, but also, as we see, for that of mathematical sense in lar, one naturally appeals to a philosophical and non-naturalist ception of time: one does not want the time of sense to be that phytis. In this case, dialectics and henneneutics are the two great sophical schema at our disposal.

Dialectics is the general name for those approaches to time assign time to dialogue, but without holding to the destinal ,h,m"" dialogue: it is obviously in Hegel that this option culminates, the movement of negativity that unsettles substance and brinp the sublation of itself is totally independent of any destinal t"";'. this point, the substance recaptures the other that its original had renounced and subjectivizes itself. Its operators are position, co-position and sublation, and contain no reference to dimension of address. There is indeed a tension between object subject in dialectics, which is the history of the the object. by the reminiscence of the object's origin in the split, and mere is no doubt that mis tension makes the process dialoga1: the return to the subjective of the false the object is accomplished in a 'dialogue' between posing and instances, between subject and object. But is not this dialogue

tied of all address, which would allow us, Ii fa limite, to deD)' dialogal character? Is it not exclusively in a metaphorical and

sense that the subject can be said to dialogue with the object?

Hen"eneurUs would be the name of those philosophies time not to dialogue but to interpellation, mat is, to In mese philosophies, if a historical account of the adventure is proposed, the passage from one moment [0 another is presented as assumption and response, recepdon, obliged ation. What 'moves' the Idea, and correlatively, what brings textualiry into being (new rule, new phrase, new word, new new concept) is the movement from one destinational deal by the to a re-deal, a movement which is always a re-destination.

Idea and Destination

69

�

eory of the idea be .e�aluated from the tht: Delt:uzian }-loW can . alternanve? On the one hand, thIS of It IS nott:worthy that view Ol·nl of s the point of view of destination uz mention and makes it at least le e own position, when he evokes the 'ontology of the his [age of lists its essential aspects in propt:r Heideggerian I t ' fashion. i n and u s O quotation given above, we could thus recognize the clause n the non-exhaustion of the question the (no response exhausts hiCh states instance of the question), tht: Gadamerian clause relating to the

be � �

�e llplication of the subject (ht:re named tht: 'questioner'), and the

il identifies the question with the withdrawn nt:gative of ciaust: which Being. Now, it JUSt so happens that the Heideggerian-Gadamerian treatment of hermeneutics does not entirely respect the dimension of address, although this treatment introduced this dimension into the language and cenain decisive coordinates of the thematic. Deleuze's reprise of the thematic no doubt worsens this panial erasure. The

simple fact of speaking of an oncology of the question dissolves the primitive character of interpellation in favour of the universal idea of Being: the only way to respect this primitive charactt:r would be to maintain the ourside-of-Being of the question (along the lines of Levi­ nasian outside-of-being). The third point (identification of the ques­ tion with withdrawn Being) confinns this dissolution. Even more significant is the fact that the implication is thought by Deleuze as the implication of the questioner, that is as the implication of an addres­ sor, whereas with Gadamer (and Heidegger, in so far as ht: deals with this point) the implication is that of Dasein as addressee of the question, the implication is the ZugehDrigkeiz of he who arrives afterwards to find himself caught up and situated by what has arrived before.

But in the final analysis, Deleuze removes his conception of the

origin of Ideas even funher from the notions of address and destina­ tion by means oflhe Nietzschean codicil which he attaches. Nevenhe­ less, iI is in this pan of his discussion that he introduces the theme of

the imperative, a theme absolutely characteristic of address properly understood . But he does so by linking address to the 'throw' of a tOtally affinned chance. The throw is the idea as event par exceiJence,

�

�e 'aleatory point' at which all at once the vinual disparate is con­ n�ed and the detennination of the actual by means of the vinual g . ms to unfold . This imperative therefore has nothing at all to do WIth the comma ndment which obliges a subject by coming from t"lOther or exactly as though it had. This can only be a way of speak­

� language dramatizes with the lexicon of obligation what is a �re effec t of event, of singularity, of the precipitation of lhe virtual. pt"lg

-

Oreover , in the striking evocation of the police interrogation which

Jean-Michel SaJanskis

70

introduces the consideration of the imperative dimension)

quite simply annuls the difference separating the totturer frolll

victim: 'Is it necessary to take the example of the police in

demonstrate the imperative character of questions? "I'm asltinl questions!' In fact, however, it is already the dissolved self aflhe being questioned which speaks through his torturer. '26 From the

�: ::::::

of view of the precipitation of the event, every subject! ; s ; , whether torturer or victim, all are open to the modem (

,

of the subjective instance. This is to say that the throw of the

rive, far from determining the I and the You in their fund an ... ethical posture, is indifferent to their polarity.

Discussion of Deleuze's Reading oflnflnitesimal Calculus and Kantian Criticism

����::�:�:;,;�'�u: ,:':!

What to my mind must be debatedd ;n . essentially the pertinence of such an ev��:

: �

dividual model for the understanding of the Idea, especially

Idea-in-culture. This model presents itself as dialectical, but it a dialectic without an object, for it must be without subject. It

�: �:;:':::

fore has its own way of distancing itself from the Hegelian model. debate may and should be pursued with all manner 0: : S :b

ments. Given the angle of approach adopted here, we are

take up firstly what Deleuze says about infinitesimal calculus point of view.

His thesis is that the dx and dy which feature in the discourse

pioneers cannot be classified within the opposition of the finite infinite, because they are extra-representative. They belong to

universal-undetermined in the problem. As such they are the thing as 'the ideal cause of the continuum,' something like the

ideal dynamism, the presence of which is indicated by the men ••,1a

the continuum in mathematics. But such a conclusion is perfectly congruent with that of Hegel in his principal cornmeal infinitesimal calculus: dx and dy are in his view the

;,�i:�:ijf;��;

mathematical modes for the apprehension of the

character of quantity. Hegel grasps through them the

the concept, as he understands it, to representation, to the standing of the mathematician.21 In Deleuze's terminology, since, suppose, he accepts the Kantian use of the word concept and

generally, the contemporary tradition of philosophical discourse, concept has passed over onto the side of representation. In

Idea and Destination

71

is universal-undetennined in the problem i s something that s what te matics as a Jiving discipline, and that in many respects mathe . sust i S I'11ustrates m exempIary las ' h·IOn. However, rnathematlcs · ne cipli e dis problem, the of dimension this thematize to or express to e abl IS un is in the always effective articulation of relations be­ ght up as it a c termS, in differencian·o'l. The proximity of Deleuze's discourse to en el and to idealist philosophy moreover manifests itself in at of Heg ways. Firsdy, the sequence indetenninacion (linked to dx, other everal which supply the pure e ement of �uantitability), reciprocal dete n i­

rn: �

�

� ; �

to nation, (linked

bility) and

�

,:

dyldx which embodies the pure element of quahta­ complete determination (linked to power series giving rise to

the pure element of potentiality) cannot but remind us of Hegel's i the Science of Logic, either when, in his principal comment, analysis n he describes the passage of dx and dy into the relation

dy/dx/8 or when

i the relation he develops the dialectic of relan'on, making it converge n of powers, which in fact issues in the order of measure, sublating the

opposition of quantity and quality.29 The concept of quantitability seems to me to refer back to Fichte, who uses it to name a sort of differential c/inamen of the human act (of knowledge as act) ,lO Now one

can wonder to what extent the Deleuzian 'solution' to the question of infinitesimal calculus, following the Hegelian solution from which it

i herits at least the architecture, really respects what is at stake, namely n the pure and simple integration of the infinitesimal into the register of quantity, without at the same time, in the interest of the philosophical presentation, re-imputing it to some metamathematical horizon such as that of the concept or of the problem.

In fact, this question can also be posed on the basis of the contem­

porary epistemological fact of the development of nonstandard ana­

lYSis. Since there is today a theory confonning to current standards of axiomatic rigor that admits infinitesimals, can it be said that they are

admitted by reference to the ideality or universality of the concept or problem? The infinitesimals h == 0 of nonstandard analysis are un versal with regard to all finite (standard) detennination, they are � ob ects situated by a universal property (a quantification V", as Nelson ! W ltes in his 1ST l' system:) 1 an infinitely small real number is one whose bsolute value is bounded above by any Strictly positive standard real). Can even b conceded that, in the logical operation of the discourse onform'109 to 1ST theory, nonstandard elements are partly functi. . 1 0 0ther words that they achieve a sort of modern compromise

th�

� ct

e

e�tween number and fWlctio'l homologous in part to the compromise

b

)

queCt�d by the old concept of variable, without it any longer being a

. . e Stlon of represenung · · a nona movement 0f vanatlon. Thus, I·f E IS

Jean·Mchel i Salanskis

72

standard real, twO polynomial functions P and Q with standard dents coinciding on £ are equal, and two standard

coinciding on E necessarily coincide on an infinite Stt.

universality and tendency to 'transcendence of type' with ordinary numbers are indeed twO attributes of the new infini'",... . at least up to a certain point and from a certain perspective. But these infinitely small numbers should be as well the ideal caUSe continuum, envdoping something which would find exp�ssion deployment in the theory of this continuum, does not appear to be in any way attested. The infinitesimals are actually there, on

real line along with the other numbers, on the same plane with

as far as 'internal' theory is concerned. And the essential co'.":pa . element of their relation to other numbers is the inassignab/�

l"';'

which they are juxtaposed to the other numbers without com sing the ambient theoretical schema: close to 0 to the right on

line, there are infinitely small positives - of all sizes and all of

dizzily incomparable - and this halo around 0 'fades away' as moves away from O. This halo, however, does not constitute a

"p,o"'ib� does it possess a least upper bound, which makes it i' ,

designate 00 the line a point-threshold from which and beyond the reals would cease to be infinitesimally adherem to O.

The same conceptual poim may be found in the case of the

infinity of integers: in their case, we know that everyone accept the inexhaustiveoess of the coostructive notion of integer, never-closed character of the regular procession of the integen:

2, 3 . . - or 0, SO, SSO, SSSO . . if the language of PA formal .

.

metic is being used - or 0,

(0),{0, (0) ) ... if the language

theory is being used. The figure of this unlimited series is Hegel's false infinite, the unthought and umotalized infinite of 'and so on and so fonh'. In our usual infinitary theories - at ZFC - N is posed, the set supposed to be that of all the m"mbe� this enumeration, and this totality is considered actual through

course to the logical regime of the excluded middle. The gesture nonstandard analysis can be redescribed as follows: it consists refusing to allow the object N ever exactly to encompass remainder the elements of the numerical procession, so that a figure of the infinite appears, that of the infinitely large integer greater than 0, I , 2 . . but assimilable to the finite from the point view of all its operative and logical properties, because after all it .

integer alongside other integers (such integers are readily called

finites) . The hyperfinite eoters with the ordinary finite into the

relation of unassignable vicinity set out above: there is neither

Idea and Destination

73

nite integer nor a smaller hyperfinite one, the ordinarily ater truly fi gt tegers (or the hyperfinites) do not fonn a set. This establishes nl e in O lical principle the indivisible continuity of the progression the re e to the hyperfinite. The hyperfinite is situated in be­ r:n the finit infinite and the totalized infinite. It is nOI the infinite of bad the (Y. een wh ich would envelop in itself the play of essences of the relation infinite, on that extra-representative level where their the and nite would resolve itself. It is an infinite which does not lity � I, co mpatibi m up, totalize or engender but which is simply distributed alongside

\ �

�

�

�

�

e rest of the integers, in addition to them, without causing a scandal (without breaking the axioms of the domain), in an unassignably adherent manner. The figures which come together in the infinite of the infinitesimal are therefore those of the unassignable, of a lack of determination, taken both in the immanent sense of the theory, in the sense of the ordinary logic of the quantum. In Deleuzian tenns, the infinitesimal refers to a lack of detennination at the level of differencia­

rUm rather than being the ideal cause of the available continuum at the

level of differentiation. There is therefore cause for doubt with regard to the peninence of the theory of the problematic idea, if only on the basis of the preced­

ing. This has not been arbitrarily put forward: it is quite simply the

missing file in Deleuze's dossier at the time of writing Difference and

Repetition. It is a question of historical contingency, for this file would

certainly have been taken into account if the book had been written at a later date, since it is clear that Deleuze intended his thesis to be a comprehensive and synthetic overview of the dispute over differential calculus which inspired his work. Before developing this first critical gesture into a more fundamental and more strictly philosophic evalu­ ation. I would like to follow up on Deleuze's reading of Kant. I mentioned above twO elements of this reading: his critique of the SOlution to the cosmological antinomy by means of infinite regress and e noumenal, and his description of the inadequacy of the schema om the point of view of the 'ideal drama.'

�

For Deleuze, infinite regress is something which eludes the determi­ natI.ons of finite and infinite, but which, in so far as it remains within repreSe ntation, cannot enter into a differential relation with the umenon, and thereby disclose the problematic as that which is truly I( YOnd the finite/infinite opposition. It is clear that the analysis of f.t:ant prop osed here is entirely consonant with the interpretation of­ re.d of the enigma of infinitesimal calculus. Kant, like mathematics, is \Jt}Situ ated in a domain of thought in which on one side stands the sUrp assable premise of the bad infinite (the constructive infinite of

�

74

Jean-Michel Salanskis

reiteration, infinite regression), and on the other side stand, possible thematization of an infinite in act posed as such (the infinite): 0, 1, 2, 3 ... vs. N - a thematization disqualified in the of the strangeness of the noumenal. Deleuze's requirement, seems to me from this point of view the same as Hegel's, substance that this confrontation be dissolved in a relation to would accrue all the prestige of genesis. As for the question of the schemata, the refutation and the mem are essentially identical. The schemata are what secretly the division of the logical concept itself possible, but 'do not for the power with which they act'. Whereas the dynamisms, as the springs of the ideal drama, have the c,.p.
i:�!��fi����:�

be identified in naturalistic tenns - the mind, its faculties, the tus of perception, the physis - and the attempt will be reconstruct the laws governing their interrelations in knowI.. understood as a natural process: this is precisely the current of the cognitive sciences.

Idea and Destination

75

ve1euze's disco� is genetico-metaphysical, bU[ in an ambiguity .' .. may be a characteristic trait of this type of disco�, he is often .,lCU I n 'te close to the naturalist discourse. In the chapter I have been comon, the whole discussion of the effectuation of things, of the way e which differenciation gives rise to actual things, is fonnulated in a ectivist manner, Does all philosophy of nature have this affinity JI1 asi.obj modern naturalizations? By contrast, Kant'S schematism solves a dical problem: how is the discursive law of the understanding (the law f categorial syntheses) implanted in the sensory manifold that it is take in charge, given that this manifold is a prien' subject to supposed to which are completely heterogeneous conditions of pres­ time and e spac idea of an a priori transposition of logical relations into The tion? enta ones, however difficult, unstable and ultimately confused it may oral temp be, does constitute an answer to the juridical problem, to the extent that it assigns the fact of the application of the categories to the manifold to a principle of conversion of the logical intO the mathematical (linear con­ tinuous mathematics of time or continuous geometry of space) which exhibitS twO good philosophical properties: (1) it s i susceptible of being theoretically elaborated and of constituting a nonn (for example the correlation between logical quantity and number, which is the content of one aspect of the transcendental schematism and which defines an entire intellectual space which is cunently a focus of activity, namely the space of discrc:te-constructive mathematics in all its arithmetico-linguistic bi­ valence); (2) it can be the object of primitive thought experiments (anyone can silently run through the history of the transposition of the synthesis of quantity in the homogenous into the articulated enumeration of number). And once this 'how' has been brought forth both in its pbenomenological accessibility and in its susceptibility to theoretical elaboration, no further explanation need be sought, for it was a question orJocating the guiding significations of our usage of knowledge and not of reconstructing it in an ontologico-genetic sense. In this respect, and despite the considerable cognitive pertinence of the concept of schema, wtUch has today become evident, it is of little imponance that Kant ec are the schematism a mysterious an hidden in the depths of the soul, s Psychological attestation is n i no way a requisite for the validity and e all the pertinence of transcendental reflection,

qUlnting � qU �:n

�

:�

�

a

�ow

Conclusion

shall we draw out some son of lesson from this debate which has en undertaken with Deleuze and which has centred on several

76

Jea,,-Michel SaJanskis

points that seem at fLrst glance extremely different? I would like suggest that my three responses [0 Deleuze are of a piece, and dde of this paper strove to introduce them in their unity. The conceiving the idea independently of destination, of not

O;'�:�:�i�:;:=

destinality as a philosophically crucial quality or dimension oftbe is obviously of a piece with the choice of an

metaphysico-naruralis[ discourse. The refusal of the

problematic corresponds completely to this choice, as

proximity with Hegel's Science of Logic: according to Hegel, thc,ullbt not essentially required faithfully to formulate that by which originarily affected - implicit law or question. address, request

from the other - thought is on the contrary called up [0 '''''I>tu", '�

which tends to escape its grasp, in other words the process in is engaged and in which it panicipates. It remains to consider Deleuze's interpretation of the infinhesimal calculus. My intuition is tha[ all attempts to mathematical conceptuality outside ofquamity stem from the idea reticent towards what is most important in

These attempts are drawn from mathematics as a cultural and tual event, but they do not really allow themselves to be affected they do not strive to satisfy what mathematics, dare I say, d,m,oacll us. The infinitesimal is a paradoxical and intense modulation concept of quantity, and to ignore this is to destroy its most

characteristic. Yet it is well known that the debate and the .n,n,," 'iii those of the infinitesimal calculus.

Nevertheless, in an entirely original and profound fashioa,

developing the concept of a problemati c idea from the ",m'pl,,,, pol

of departure of differential calculus itself - and of mathematics,

citly considered as the domain which manifests the blueprint of

good dialectic - Deleuze concludes that the soul of calculus

quantity, deserving instead the name of problem, qualitative complete determination, genesis, etc. The will to envisage the nitesimal beyond representanon seems to me to lead in the same tion: it is well known that quantity, be it infinite, cannot elude order of representation, that it is in many respects

.

can·only-be-represented, to speak like Deleuze (even if quantity to the acted presentation [presentation agieJ of number, to what generally called constructive intuition and which is in principle representative). My feeling is that there is a link between .the option consisting in the omission of destinality from the ph;lo'sop portrait of the idea, and the particular critico--interpretative

'�

Idea and Desrination

11

�

sitivitY to the demand of ma ematical discourse that it be . f insen usly as a discourse on quanbtY.)2 If the fact that the ques­ serio ken 1'1 that launches all problematizing elaboration of the idea is des­ t�O ed' is addressed to me, is constitutive of the idea of the idea, then n avoidable maxim for ushering the idea into culture is one of u to what discourses want from us, the susceptibility to pass to (tendon which they engage us. Conversely, if the idea is entirely th at wi with genesis, with the event-adventure which spreads out up bOund o

t�

: �

virtual which is itself commanded by the total affirmation of from the I will be infinitely tempted to forget what is addressed then e, chanc to speech, text to text, discipline to discipline, in favour ech spe from

ofa 'what happens' on which I will have conferred in advance and on principle a sort of trans-human prestige. Of course, Deleuze's book and particularly the chapter com­ mented upon here bear wicness to an exceptional ear for culture, as is fitting for a philosopher in my opinion as great as Deleuze, and it

would be superlatively unjust to describe him as walled up in his metaphysico-genetic prejudice. Perhaps what he names event or gen­ esis is something altogether removed from the neutralitY I sense. Or perhaps we must acknowledge the presence of twO incompatible clans: the ontologico-metaphysical-genetic, and the deontologico­ logical-interpretative, and accept that their confrontation will never be decided in some test of truth. However, these virtuous concessions are hardly satisfying, for there is little sense in pretending not to

think what one thinks. 1 do maintain that the initiative of the idea coincides with the compelling repercussion of address, and that the beSt possible adhesion to the genius of the culture is the one which results from observance of the maxim of attention to what discourses rtquire of us.

One last word to evoke an example given by Deleuze in Dijfermce

ond

Repetition which fascinated me twentY years ago and which I rtmember 'as if 1 were there'. Describing the function of learning, and

�� �

ng up me familiar example oftearning to swim, Deleuze writes that It IS after a brief phase in which the swimming instructor explains and emonstrates the movements on sand that real apprenticeship begins,

� the Course of which the student combines his distinctive points with

osc: of the water, and in a sense actualizes his movements.)} This Poetic perspective on the joy of adventurous abandonment to the attracted me no end, and still does. But at the time I retained 'torn the example the lesson of the inessential character ofthe instruc­ ".S d demonstration on sand. Today, I would say that whatever the

;ater

escf1ptlve ' accuracy of Deleuze's example as regards the personal .

78

Jean-Michel SaJanskis

clement of apprenticeship, the example also highlights the

function of a prescription. When I am at last able to swim n i

tion with the ocean, I remain attached to the interlocutionary the human act of swimming, what I express is also the genius combination of gestures whose example I faithfully follow. All is an

understanding as well, and understanding requires a ..n"'til",

ideal destinality.

translated by George

NOTES I may, I believe, name at least Gilles Chiteiet and Jean Petitot those of Deleuze's readen who have manifested an enthusiasm

equivalent to mine, and which has been the starting-point of an through the relation of philosophy to mathematics.

2

See his recapitulative publication: Enai fur Funiti dts Paris: Union Generale d'Editions, 1977.

3

Lautman's comments concern mainly the results of the P"'-'''' '''�

m'.",,"'�

co-topological school, which had deployed the potential of an structunlism': these are the new mathematics that, in poine inspired the Bourbaki project (for a description of this epoch atmosphere, cr. Hourya Sinaceur, Corps tt Modiks, Paris: Vrin,

150-60).

4

Gilles Deleuze, Dif/btnct tl France,

�tjn'on,

,.;....�

Paris, Presses U, " "'

1968. Difftrmce and &/Htition, trans. Paul Patton, New

Columbia University Press and London: Athlone Press Limited, pp.

5

16S-70. All further references will be to this translation. 171, translation slightly modified.

Dif/ertrtU and Rtpetition, p.

gives 'continuousness' for the continuum [trans. note).

6 7 8 9

1 72-3. 175. Ibid., p. 182.

Ibid., pp. Ibid., p.

Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guanari, Rhizome, Paris: Editions de

1976. English translation by John Johnston, in On the Lint, 57. See also A Thowand Plauaw, trans. Brian Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987, p. 24. On the Line, p. 47; A Tlwwand Plaltaw, pp. 20-1. Difference and Repetition, p. 187. Ibid., p. 190. Ibid., p. 177. Ibid., pp. 1 78-9. Ibid., pp. 195-6. Ibid., p. 197.

Semiotext(e), p.

10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Idea and Destination

79

Ibid., p. 198. 17 Ibid. , p. 198. 18 Jean Petitot, Morphogenese d,.. sens, Paris: Presses Universitaires de 19 France, 1985, IlIA, pp. 65- 71. ence and Repetition, p. 176. 20 Differ p. 178. , Ibid. 21 p. 86. , Ibid. 22 p. 178. , Ibid. 23 Maddy, 'Believing the axioms', The Journal 0/ Symbolic Logic, lope 24 Pene 1 988, vol. 53, no. 2, pp. 481-5 1 1 . 25 Difference (HId Repetition, p . 218. 26 Ibid., p. 197. 27 The whole comment should be cited, but the following is a particularly significant example (the reader will notice that the term for the Gennan Begnf/ in the English translation is Notion, whereas I prefer to follow French usage in translating it as Concept): 'It is this concept which has been the target of all the anack, made on the fundamental determination of the mathematics of this infinite, i.e. of the differential and integral calculus. Failure [0 recognize it was the result of incorrect ideas on the pari of mathematicians themselves; but it is the inability to justify the object as Notion /Concept} which is mainly responsible for these attacks. BUI mathematics, as we remarked above, cannot evade the Notion [con­ cept] here; for, as mathematics of the infinite, it does not confine itselfto thefinile determinations of its objects (as in ordinary mathematics, which considers and relates space and number and their determinations only according lO their finitude); on the contrary, when it treats a determina­ tion taken from ordinary mathematics, it converts it into an identity with its opposite . . . Consequently, the operation which it allows itself [0 perform in the differential and integral calculus are in complete contra­ diction with the nature of merely finite detenninations and their relations and would therefore have to be justified solely by the Notion /Concept}.· Hegel's Science 0/ Logic, trans. A. V. Miller, Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey: Humanities Press International, Inc., 1991, pp. 253-4. 28 Hegel, ibid., p. 253. 29 Ibid., pp. 3 1 4--25 . 30 Cr., for the introduction of quantitability in its relation to freedom: Fichle, Doctrine de fa Science, 1801-1802, trad. fro Alexis Philonenko et C: Lecouteux, Paris: Vrin, 1987, Paragraphe 22, p. 89. For the underlYIng Fichtean conception of quantity, see p. 69. 3 1 Cr. Edward Nelson, 'Internal Set Theory', Bulletin o/the Americun Math32 emUI;cu/ Society, vol. 83, no.6 (Nov. 1977), pp. 1 165-98. 1 hasten to add that this is not at all to say that the thinking and qualitative dimension or mathematical thought and of its tale should be underestimated. I believe my L 'hermenewique /ormelle presents a perfectly unambiguous position on this question: but this dimension is developed

80

33

Jean-Michel Salanskis in an activity taking up and into account the quantum in ;;'" "IT,,, •.., literalness. Jean-Michel Salanskis, L 'hennintutiqlU Jormtlle. Plrit: tions du CNRS, 1991. Difference and Repetition_ p. 23; see also p. 165 .

•

5

Deleuze-Bergson: an Ontology of the Virtual �-------�-Constantin V. Boundas

Bers,on,

of course, was also caught up in F�nch style history of philosophy, and yet in him there is something which cannot be assimi­ lated, which enabled him to provide a shock, to be a rallying point for all the opposition, the object of so many hatreds: and this is not so much

because of the theme of duration, as of the theory and practice of becomings of all kinds, of coexistent multiplicities. I

Deleu:ze's admiration for Ber�on has been maintained for the last

forty years and has manifested itself in numerous writings. A long es ay 'La Conception ck Ja difference chez Bergson' ( 1 956] and a chapter,

s

'Bergson 1859-1 941' in us Philosophes dlibres. edited by Merleau­ Ponty

I I 956) were followed by an anthology of Bergson's writings, mt! " (1957), and then by a book, Le Bergson­ lJ�t (I 966). Bergson is arguably one of the two or three more sus­ ed prese �ln nces in DIfference and Repetition [ 1 968), and references to n,rn abound in Dialogues [ 1 977) and in A Thousand Plateaus ( 1 980). MOlJement_Image ( 1 983J and then Tht! Time-Image ( 1 985) revisit

1!tnn° Bergson, Mimaire el

a:

til

gson and show � that cinema, despite Bergson's own scepticism, hiS vision and illustrates the practices of becomings and multi­

\

s that he himself summoned out of obscure indistinction and ) nPlt�t" i d�es :../ Ilierenc e .l I is, the refore, curious that the centrality that Bergson has in

�

De

"SCh:)uze's

work (rivalled only by the centrality of Spinoza and Nietz­ has not yet found among Deleuze's readers the attention it deSeryes. Madeleine Barthelemy-Madau!e,' Maria Rosario Restuccia:

82

Conslamin V. Boundas

Gillian Rose,' Bruno Paradis," Paul Douglass,7 and above all Hardt' have so far been the only bright exceptions. My Own the expression of my desire to strengthen the voice of those w,.o. .. , face of the now fashionable interdiction against ontology, stand behind Deleuze's claim that, in the giants' struggle for there are still a few baldes left worth fighting. The intention essay is not to fine-rune the agreements or disagreements Deleuze and Bergson, but rather [0 fe-enaCt the Deleuzean '"" . .... of Bergson's themes. I accept Fran�ois Zourabichvili's point the commentaries that Deleuze devotes to those he loves are free indirect discourse, and the untimely thinkers who are the ofthase commentaries 3fe veritable intercessors, p,m.h,ing I .m •• what he wants.9 That is why in the rest of my essay I find it work with the composite name 'Deleuze-Bergson.'

Multiplicity and Movement Were we to say that Deleuze-Bergson's work revolves around tions of multiplicity, movement, becoming and difference, we have stated not four distinct concerns but one and the same facing his work, viewed from four different an "gl 's. , formula 'multiplicity = movement = becoming d , only one kind of multiplicity and for one kind of difference. It ofthe multiplicity which is continuous or intensive and of the notion of difference that Deleuze named 'different/ciation'. tensive multiplicities are virtual, internally differentiated " which actualize themselves through differenciation" o different/dation is able to account for the qualitative h�;, movement, without which a plausible theory of becoming worked out. I shall defer the discussion of different/ciation in order t� the notion of multiplicity. Deleuze-Bergson's theory of ci grievously misunderstood whenever 'multiplicity' is taken to set of entities, each one of which is identical to itself and also from all the other entities of the same SCt. Equally misguided attempt to assimilate Deleuzean difference to the Heraclitean more level-headed discussion of the role that multiplicities play writings of Deleuze-Bergson might begin with Riemann's of manifolds into discrete and continuous. and with the con"''' that Deleuze's theory of difference requires something like the Duum for its aniculatioD.'o For Riemann, discrete multiplicitid =

r:�:,; �.�:�::

;':��::'

�;::

Deleuze-Bergson: an Ontology 0/ the Virtual

83

....,hose metric principle is within themselves, because the

tb°se' re of their part is given in the number of elements that they t1IellSu

As a consequence, discrete multiplicities are quantitative and ve hll ·rnerable. On the other hand, continuous multiplicities are those

dePUe principle is outside of them - in the forces, for example, ,,",hoS rnetric from the outside. As a consequence, continua are them h" h act on w " ive and non-denumerable.

..." Riemann's characterization of multiplicities does not find �litat o.

qu

ur with Deleuze. For the latter, continuous multiplicities uch favo related to duration or, at least, conceived according to s e e sentially

rTI

to it and, therefore, neither their divisibility (or indivisi­ &I' analogy their denumerability (or non-denumerability) nor our :;itY) tonorthink of them as isomorphic to number systems defines them

abilitY essentially. What defines them essentially is this: discrete mUltiplicities Ife extended magnitudes whose nature remains the same after they

have been divided, whereas continuous multiplicities are intensive magnitudes whose nature changes each time they are divided. ' 1 The imponance of these definitions for Deleuze's theory of difference cannot be overestimated. They

given into two

will preside over the division of the

tendencies - extension and intensity, space and dura­

tion, dilation and contraction; if left uncoordinated, they

will be the will

constant source of transcendental illusions; their coordination

require the aniculation of, and strict adherence to, a method called

'transcendental empiricism'; finally, the choice of continuous mwti­

plicities as the cornerstone of Deleuze's theory of difference and

becoming can no longer be understood within the old parameters of

the one and the many. Neither 'multiplicity' nor 'the multiple' convey

precisely the sense that Deleuze-Bergson wishes to convey. One needs a

noun

like 'the multiplier' or a gerund like 'the multiplying' as a

qualifier of multiplicity in order to capture the sense that Deleuze

assigns to different/ciation.l: We may now ask: For what purpose is this ontology of continuous

multiplicities mobilized? It is well known that movement is betrayed

�.h time we think of it as a relation between actual, fixed terms, � lch are mapped on to discrete, temporal multiplicities, understood

a sUccession of presents and of static cuts. Deleuze-Bergson reminds u ps that it was

has to

who showed that the arrow will not fly if it �$S first, oneZeno by one, all the discrete points at the discrete times of

e ended manifold; it will not fly because movement cannot be re xt ti tUted on the basis of instants any more than being can be On� cO (j St1tuted on the basis of presents. It is evident that the opposition to iscret e muItiP " I"Icltles " " rests on the correct conclusion that instants,

�

84

Constanrin V, Boundas

bdng durationless snapshots of movement, cannot he blocks of movement. because the lauer presupposes mobile se,lD>. .

of duration.

Movement continues to be betrayed as long as the identity

body moving through the continuum is not itself conceived

iog to the logic of continuous multiplicities. Real movement, transformation and change seem to require that the distinction

tween movement (the process) and moving (the agent or patient) abandoned. I ) Movement affects both space and the bodies

through it. To move is not to go through a trajectory which

decomposed and recombined in quantitative terms; it is to

other than itself, in a sense that makes movement a qualitative

It is, as Jean Milet says, because the continuum cannot he <e,j.,coO a discrete manifold (to an aggregate of points) that movement

be reduced to what is static.14 Continua and movements imPll " another. Deleuze's critique of phenomenology begins at this point."

nomenology grounds itself on the normalcy of natural pe,,,,epti,. gives natural perception a privilege which makes movement 'poses'. Bergson's significance, on the other hand, for Deleuz:e. precisely in his refusal to yield to the lure of natural pe",,'P'I According to him, the staning point is a world of continuously ing movement-images - a world of matter in constant flux, anchorage or assignable points of reference. In the case of enology, natural perception and movement imply the notion subject. In the case of Bergson, movement is not subordinate subject which performs it or undergoes it. Where light diffuses

with a minimum of resistance or loss, the eye is inside things.

�::th� a :,:��,;:,

been arrested or refracted. We are dealing here W 'i 'inhuman' world having a privilege over the h

::;

bas

of (f)light do not yet appear to anybody, because

��

world of phenomenology, where consciousness is the

summoning up things from their native obscurity. Fo,d )elellz.,..I� son, things are luminous with nothing but themselves to light is consciousness that constitutes the opaque blade without which would go on to diffuse itself forever.

If we now call Deleuze-Bergson's reduction of consciousness

tensive' and we compare it to the phenomenological reductiOll

consciousness, we can see immediately how these two give rise

preside over, two different tasks. The phenomenology of con,,"01 ness will strive to eliminate the brackets from the real in achieve the status of a critique of what is consensually given.

Deleuze-Bergsmi: an Ontology oj the Virtual

85

with the intensive singularities of the 'pre-human' world, on the

;!r hand, Deleuze-Bergson will have to accoum for the fonnation of ded' or 'cool' systems inside the open-ended, intensive °1 ed 'exten cho:s,,:it: virtual. He will have, in other words, to embark upon a . fll

, a ..

constitution of the given in order, at the end of it, to give gen..tic a theory of the actual. hitflself

'Transcendental Illusion and Transcendental Empiricism The expression 'transcendental illusion' points back to Kant. In the

Critique oj Pure Reason, transcendental

illusions are errors to which we

succumb when we mistake guiding principles for knowledge-constitu­ rivc categories. Deleuze praises Kant frequently for his decision to

tum his back on the childish notion of error as misrecognition, mis­

identification and miscalculation, and to replace it with an error which

is internal and endemic to thought (Kant's 'Transcendental Dialec­

tic').

A similar notion of transcendental illusion can be found in Bergson, albeit with a significant difference. 16 Given Bergson's rejec­

tion of the Kantian distinction between appearances and thing in

itsclf, the possibility of transcendental illusion is now accounted for, not

in terms of mental faculties mistaken about jurisdictions and

territories, but rather in tenns of tendencies rooted in things them­ selves, and being actualized in ways that bring them into conflict with

one another. Only a methodic intuition, never assured in tenns of its final success, can grasp the complementarity of these tendencies and, even more importantly, account for the generation of the one tendency

from the Other. It is the Bergsonian rather than the Kantian transcend­ ental illusion that Deleuze sets out to reveal and to criticize. But what are these tendencies which, rooted in things themselves,

generate, under certain conditions, transcendental illusion? Put in a nutshell, the transcendental illusion that Deleuze denounces is the result of Our exclusive preoccupation with extended magnitudes in sPace at the expense of intensities in time.11 It is the result of our txcluSive preoccupation with discrete manifolds at the expense of Conlmu · a, differences of degree at the expense of differences of nature, e at t e expense of lime, with things at the expense of processes,

�� th

e

�

solutions at the expense of problems, with sedimented culture at

xpense of learning, with recognition at the expense of fundamen­ lat�nco. u nters, with results at the expense of tendencies.18 And as if a list of allegedly similar errors were not enough, Deleuze sums it a 'u up by saying that the transcendental illusion is the result of our

"8\1

Constantin V. Boundas

86

exclusive preoccupation with the real and the possible at the . . ... �

of the virtual and the actual.

Let us examine some of these claims more carefully. Bergson, well known, used to be critical of those who sacrifice dillfe,..,,,,,nature for differences of degree. Only differences of natur�'

;

��::::

thought, support a concept of difference which withstands the ure of identity, whereas differences of degree support only d

between self-identical entities,I9 Deleuze's ontology makes : . critique its own, substituting 'extended' for discrete magnitudes 'intensive' manifolds for continua. Extended magnitudes are to decomposition into parts each one of which differs from the parts according to degree only. But between intensities there are

differences of nature, since the division of an intensity "sullll , 'segments' which differ in nature from each other.1o Now magnitudes are taken to be spatial. With respect to them, we think that the only differences possible are differences of

differences according to the more and the less, that is, qu
do not exist on this level. But if not on this level, where?

tendencies, is Deleuze's reply. 'A thing n i itself and in its true is the expression of a tendency before being the effect of a Tendencies, unlike things, can no longer be thought in spatial nor can they be represented. They are not discrete multiplicities.

Now, tendencies are real, not merely possible. They have lb.",.

of the vinual which exists in order to be actualized. A virtual

something which, without being or resembling X, has nonetheless

efficiency (the

tlinus)

of producing X. In opposition to the virtual,

possible has no reality, whereas the virtual, without being

real. The possible must be realized, and the process of its ,.,dt'"'ioII subject to two essential rules, resemblance and Iimitation.Zl The is supposed to be in the image of the possible that it realizes. possible resembles and represents the real. As for the limitation affects the relation between the possible and the real, it is as if the were what survives the abortion of the many possibles. When, on

other hand. we come to the rules of the actualization of the virtual, find them to be rules of difference and divergence: the actual does

"�

resemble or represent the virtual that it embodies. The ch","c". of the virtual is to exist in such a way that, for it, to be actualized be differenciated.

Tempting as it may be, the conclusion that the Deleuzean vi,,,·. , ' a replica of the Aristotelian potentiality is unwarranted .

Deleuze-Bergson: an Oncology 0/ the Virtual

87

virtuality, has no creative capacity of its own; all its identity,

�nlike eterminatiOn and orientation come to it from the act, from that which ·s actual. Potentiality and possibility are clearly representable, and this

�s the case whether the real is conceived in the image of the possible or

�hether the possible is grasped in the image ofthe real.21 Duns Scotus,

for example (to whose notion of the vinual Deleuze is indebted) draws distinction between virtual and potential.24 For him, actual a sharp and potential acquire their meaning with reference to actual existence.

Only a being which depends on another being for its existence can be said to be potential, in the sense that it lacks actual existence. Becom� i actual means receiving actual existence. ng Against the snares of the transcendental illusion, Deleuze deploys a method that he calls, 'transcendental empiricism'.2' Transcendental empiricism attempts to go beyond experience to the conditions which account for things, states of things and their mixtures given to experi� ence. Its object is not given de facto, it is only given de jure; it is not what is given immediately but rather the immediate given. But what is given de jure is the tendency, that is, the unrepresentable virtual. Transcendental empiricism is a method whereby the actual is divided according to its vinual tendencies which, in tum, constitute the

suffi�

cient reason of the actual. Deleuze's transcendental empiricism seems to be patterned after Bergson's intuition.26

In

the centre of the transcendental illusion is a

lack of respect for the articulations of Being. The illusion blinds us to the fact that Being has articulations and that its divisions must be respected. Intuition is then offered as the remedy to transcendental illusion and as a more promising method of division.

Things and states

of things are mixtures and, as such, are subject to qualifications according to the more and the less, that is, according to differences of degree. But these (actual) mixtures are the products of (vinual) tend­ encies which, unlike mixtures, differ in nature or in kind from each other. Bergsonian intuition is a method for dividing the mixture ac­ cording to tendencies, that is, according to real differences. Viewed in this light, Bergson's intuition is identical with Deleuze's transcendental empiricism. It is true that whenever Deleuze names allies and forerun­ ners of his brand of empiricism he comes up with Schelling who his philosophy as a quest for the conditions of real experi­ �defined nce.27 Nevertheless, he continues to praise Bergson for having en­ th°wed. philosophy with the means for creating concepts fine�tuned to e POmt of merging with percepts.

lOe similarity between transcendental empiricism and the Kan­ tl.an transcendental philosophy is striking, yet misleading. For both

Constantin V. Boufldas

88

Deleuze and Kant. the actual, which has de facto existence, is go".rn .�

by conditions which exist de jure. But the Kantian de jure is nOI the Deleuzean in flirru. What is de jure: (for example, the car.,!o,n••

the understanding) is not characterized by a dynamic thrust toward own actualization. Moreover, Deleuze's empiricism, unlike the tian critique, is capable of providing a genetic account of the

oi

because the conditions which it seeks are themselves given in virtual, as the conditions of actual experience. In Kantianism, conditions sought after are those of all possible experience. Deleuze, the targeted conditions do not exceed the conditioned,

therefore, the concept they form ends up being identical with object. This is why transcendental empiricism, unlike Kantian philosophy, secures a 'fit' between conditions and this 'fit' is d., ..... strable. In a way vaguely reminiscent of the Platonic dialectic, scendental empiricism gives itself two moments, one descending the other ascending. Afler we have followed the lines of divergence . . . , writes Deleuu, these lines must inter5ect again at a virtual image of the point of depar­ ture . . . which finally gives us the sufficient reason of [he thing . . The real, therefore, is not only that which is Cut out according to n.turd aniculations or differences in kind. h is also that which n i tersects apia along paths converging toward the same ideational or vinual poinl Reality is both what is carved up and what is recombined.2' .

. . •

Until now, I have been referring to tendencies as vinual and resentable; but I have not yet explained why. In Deleuze's work, transversal line which causes tendency and vinuality to resonate the line of the Idea. In Kant's Transcendental Dialectic, reason i, faculty of the problematic and problem-setting Ideas. These Idea, constitutive of problems - not of knowledge - in the sense that

�:;:�

give understanding and its objects both a direction and a system. have no solution, since no solution within the field that they o can ever satisfy them. Nonetheless, Ideas are objective, the p

�:::�.��:�.��:,

itself is their object, and their objectivity feeds, and is fed by, systematicity which they impose on the objects of the Just like Kant, Deleuze believes that Ideas are indeed p

imperatives . But unlike Kant, Deleuze believes that the ability of t problem to be solved must be made to depend on the form thJ rl n solutio the problem takes.19 Instead of a haphazard quest for the . problems, one must rather determine the conditions under Whlcb problems are solvable, and progressively specify 'fields of solvabilitY' ·

Deleuze-&rgson: an Omology of the Virtual

89

under these circumstances, can the Kantian Idea become the only a logic of invention and for a new kind of thinking without odel for n. The Idea would then differ in nature from all the entatio prcs

�r l ns to which it is susceptible. It would transcend all the solutions o utio it gives rise. But, at the same time, it would be immanent to :0 which solutions, since the closer one comes to the determination

all these the more one approximates the problem's solution. of the problem, important to notice n i this new and challenging theory is What

of Ideas is that Ideas are no longer statuesque particulars or uni­ versal genres. They are multiplicities. systems of multiple differen­ tial elements, singular problem-setting structures. And being structures, they are virtual, but not, because of it, any less real. Bergson himself marks the shift from Ideas-things to Ideas-structures as follows: Universal mathematics is what the world or Ideas becomes when one assume:s that the: Idea coexists in a relation or a law, and no longer in a

thing . . . In short, the whole: Critique 0/Pun Reason leads to establishing

i gs, becomes legitim­ the: fact that Platonism, illegitimate if Ideas are: thn

ate: if Ideas are: re:lations

.

.

}Q

.

It seems to me that the conditions for a generalized theory of the

unrepresentable virtual have been set, because the opposition between structure

and

representation

is

always

radical.

Representation,

through the mediation of concepts, requires the presence of an ident­

ical subject and an identical object. Two familiar actuals greet one

another, in the space of a mere possibility - the possibility of the concept. On the other hand, the virtuality of the Idea does not require

the assistance of an identical subject or an identical object in order to become real. Representation belongs essentially to consciousness and

follows the logic of solutions. The Idea, on the contrary. is in De­ leuze 's expression, 'sub-representative' and it is fashioned according to the logic of the problem and of the question.ll The Idea-limit of thought is the virtual structure (the cogitandum) on the road to its actualization. But what is the Idea of the sentiendum? What is it that our senses ought to sense that they cannot (empirically) Sense? Well, as Kant would have said, the manifold is given; but for

�

eleuze' that by means of which the manifold is given is intensity. n . V�rythlOg that comes to be or passes away is correlative of an order Intensity. The fact is, though, that in our actual experience of the given, inten sity is inseparable from extension. Intensity, which is one tendency, tends to cancel itself out in extension and in quality - that

o�

CotlStantin V. Boundas

90

:��::: ;� ��=

is. in another tendency. Indeed, this self-effacement of intensity often led the philosophical and scientific common se " n,e tO ' that intensity cannot be the sufficient reason for what i!

, a I

because the actual tends to eliminate intensity. But the truth

intensity, despite its self-concealing nature, is what constitutes diversity of the sensible. The fact that intensity annuls itself extended quantitative systems does not make intensity dis'I'I><,..

cogilanda without semienda withom cogilanda, blind, we still

Moreover, if, to paraphrase Kant, we say that

tienda are

empty and

acknowledge that the

relation

between

weighted to favour the primacy of the resonance triggered by the

semiendum

Ideas and sensations The violence

sentiendum.

is always responsible for

awakening of thought from its natural, dogmatic slumber.H

Difference and Repetition

i erence and Repetition Dff

is Deleuze's major contribution to the

logy of difference. But a theory of difference and repetition is present in his

1954

essay where Bergson is discussed as the one

gave the theory the form and the function that Deleuze finds the convincing. Truth to tell, ever since Bergson, the mantle of the pion of the theory of difference has been worn by Heidegger, structuralists and Derrida, to name only the most prominent. one sense or another each of these champions regressed, falling

��:::

what Bergson had achieved, casting thereby a shadow of doubt claims of difference to irreducibility. Despite his ontological! between beings and Being, and perhaps despite his own

iJ

Heidegger's waiting for the epiphany of Being leaves us with a

gia for the lost One. The structuralist diacritics ends up anchored the primacy of negation and in the re-allocation of identity to protective membrane that keeps the signs under control. As for

ria!

da - a much more interesting case - his theory and practice ofdi"lfe and deferring looks bener suited to the interminable skirmishes new beginnings and old ends than to a steadfast resolution pour

avec Ie jugement de Dieu.'"'

Unlike these champions of di"lf,rco"

Deleuze returned to Bergsonian soil. His project of difference repetition is, with respect to Heidegger's meditations on being time, a completion and simultaneously a displacement. The sting the negative is extracted from the structuralist semeiosis, allowinl s truly diacritic sign to emerge. And the Derridean differance yield the De1euzean differenllciation.

De/euze-Bergson: an Ontology of the Virtual

91

as we find in DIfference and Repetition,15 is the Different/ciation, created by the conjunction of differentiation and cipher, ex i11pl

ation. In his writings on Bergson, published before Difference ��fferencieriri on, Deleuze had not yet adopted this writing convention,

and Rep gh the need for it is clearly felt. Different/ciation refers to the althOU x relations between problems and solutions, questions and ]e oi11p vinual Ideas-structures and their actualizations. Deleuze ers, nsw

�

entiation' the totality of the diacritic relations which occur calls 'differ Idea-structure, and 'differenciation,' the process of actual­ an ' side

'in ization of such a structure. 'Differenciation,' therefore, designates the

actualization of a vinuality, and it is only one half of the notion of difference. It is the half which cannot account for itself without prior appeal to the process of differentiation. What is differenciated must, first of all, differ from itself, and only the virtual is what differs from

itself. Far from being the entire notion of difference, differenciation is about the production of entities which can find the reason for their production in the Idea-structure. Left to its own resources, the pro­ cess/production of entities will permit only the discernment of nuan­ ces or of differences of degree, in which case the notion of difference will be left subordinate to the concept of identity. Different/ciation expresses simultaneously the compossibility of the 'elements' inside

the virtual and the divergence of the series in which the virtual is actualized. It is as if virtualities exist in such a way that they actualize

themselves in splitting up and being divided, and we must now discuss why they behave in this way. In the writings on Bergson, Deleuze introduces and discusses dif­ ferenciation with two main concems in mind: the evolution of the living and the solution of problems.l6 Differenciation, I repeat, is the movement of the virtual towards its actualization and takes place because of the power of what is simple, indivisible and enduring (in the special senses of the intensive manifold). In the case of life, D�leuze-Bergson chooses to call the dynamic springs of differenci­ allon an 'elan vital.' Elan vital is not an occult power, but rather the name of the force(s) at work each time that a virtuality is being a�tua]jzed, a simplicity differenciated, and a totality divided up. Elan

�al is difference passing into action. In the words of Barthelemy-

adaule, 'the splendour of the universe can not be found . . . in the mOre and more complex unification of the multiple . . . nor in the truggle against multiplicity . . . (ItS splendour) is not convergence

� (' oUI �ather divergence.>l7 In the process of actualization, the virtual "W��hty develops its parts according to diverging lines, each one of I ch corresponds to a certain degree of the totality. Degrees which

92 are compossible inside the virtual no longer co-exist in the actualization which begin to diverge.J8 Deleuze-Bergson will therefore challenge those who see

linea

diff.",,,,,

tion as the actualization of a blueprint. Diiferenciation cannot look the obstacles it encounters inside matter; it cannot occur

the assistance of the extension that the vital force propelling it i, to contract. This is one more reason why the possible and the should not be confused with each other. Virtualities generate tions as they begin to actualize the tendencies which were "ontaU>cd the original unity and compossibility. Differenciation does not between one actual teon and another actual tenn in a h O , the unilinear series, but rather between a virtual [enn and

:

:;:;�t�'::

neous terms which actualize it along the lines of flight of ramified series.39 Differenriation does not detennine the pr oo.. actualization; it generates problems, raises questions and secb ' solutions. And one should not forget that not every solution

success. The success of the solution depends on the way in wllich I problem is raised and also on the means available to the living its effort to solve it.40 Differenciation is essentially temporal. Hence, the imponance the theory of time carries for the work of Deleuze-Bergson overestimated. In it, time is duration, and whether as duration posed to space or whether as the Stoic

aio"

juxtaposed to

even whether as 'real time' simpiicirer, what is at stake here it primacy of the heterogeneous time of difference over the sp,.dioll time of metrication with its quantitative segments and instants. sense, the great dualism inherited from the classical rationaliatl .

empiricists - matter and mind - is repositioned now on the

between duration and space. Duration and space are what we when we decompose the mixture according to the

�, ��;�:�

transcendental empiricism. Space is a multiplicity of exteriorit)', uitaneity, juxtaposition, quantitative differentiation and I

degree. It is discontinuous and actual. Duration, on the 0

a multiplicity of succession, fusion, heterogeneity, qualitative crimination and of difference of nature. It is continuous and Duration divides itself constantly, but as it divides itself it

its nature, because it is an intensive manifold and, as such, it be decomposed into instants. Instants are, by definition, not enduring 'cuts' of duration. As a matter of fact, the intensitY heterogeneity of duration implies that time cannot be infinitelY visible. It will even be inappropriate to say that duration is; it _.I becomes. It is, therefore, always incomplete, heterogeneouS JUJU

Deleuze-Bergson: an Ontology of the Virtual

93

s emergence of novelty. Homogeneous time would be noth­ �on[inuOu disguised space. What is equally important is that the qualita­ but

'?�e heterogeneity of duration challenges the usual distinction between of time and its content and, therefore, positions itself against e form on o� time as a rec,:ptacle of �eing epti the conc : . .

�

. ich Imphcates, ID a latent fonn, Duration IS a kind of succession wh and future. Segments of duration implicate each other, ent ast, pres them is present in all others and all of them in each one. ach one of

�

succession, but a succession which is sui genen s. · Succes­ Duration is coexistence must both be asserted of it. sion and II seems that this is the time to raise the question which I have

deferred until now: What implications does this characterization of duration have for our 'ordinary beliefs' about time? It seems that all that we can say about time is bound to be shrouded in an air of paradox. We can no longer, for example, say that the present is and that the past

is "0 more.

We should rather say that the present

is nOl,

since it is always already becoming and always already outside of itself.41 On the other hand, the past, which has ceased to act, has not ceased to be. The past seems now to acquire the status of being itself. Once we understand duration as an intensive rather than as a discrete multiplicity, the present can no longer be thought of as becoming past after a new present has come to replace it, nor can the past be thought of as being constituted after it has ceased to be present. Instead, we must think that memory, through an active synthesis of lime which

belongs to it, represents the old present, qua old, in the actual present,

in which case the past coexists with every new present in relation to

which it is past. De1euze characterizes the complex imbrication of present and past as 'the paradox of co-existence'. The present is constituted as paSt at the same time that it is constituted as present. That isn't all. The particular old present, which memory contracts and repeats, rises, according to Deleuze-Bergson's theory of duration,

against a background of generality - the past in general, the a priori past, the pure past. And this creates the paradox of contemporaneity: We are compel led to think of a past in general as the condition of all pasts and as the only guarantor of the passage of each particular

�

P esent. We are compelled to think that the past is contemporaneous the present which it has been. And again, we are compelled to that the pure past is presupposed by every old and new present. Ipt ca nnct be represented, but without it there is no representation . esS.lble. This a priori past, which insists in the old present and Perslsl� tn . the actual, pre-exists every present in general and, as a result, It generates the paradox of pre-existence. We are indeed asked

=.th Ink

94

ConSlamin V. 80undas

to think that the entire past preserves itself and, therefore, coe.;.. with every present. This past has never been present, since it be constituted after the constitution of the present. But the total preservation of the past entails the irreversibility duration. '(C)onsciollsness cannot go through the same state The circumstances may still be the same, but they will no longer on the same person, since they find him at a new moment of hislory.'42 No identical repetition of an event is, therefore, po.sib! because the total survival of the past guarantees the productioll difference. Whereas memory struggles with forgetfu lnes " .,

�v�:::::

cence, through the memorandum which cannot be given to a

cal recollection, strives to keep alive the 'in itself' of a past which never existed. If we were now to suppose, as Deleuze-Bergson

that the past is not conserved inside the present relative to W'"cn '" now past, but that it is conserved in itself, and that the actual is the maximal contraction of the entire past which co·exists we would have one more paradox - the paradox of the survival past in itself. Some of this is straightforward, even for common sense. But

?c

�;���:

tually common sense cannot be of significant help to us, Deleuze-Bergson's theory of duration is not a

theory of temporality - nor is it a transcendental

.,e �: :

inner·time consciousness. Duration for both Bergson and

the essence of things. Things themselves endure. In which case.

inevitable question is how can the paradoxes surrounding time fonnulated in ontological tenns? How can the

the past with the present that it has been, or the survival of past, be accepted in one's ontology? Perhaps, one may try to stand the contemporaneity and the immonality of the past in the past's continuing effects upon the present. One may then be to say that the case is similar to our listening to a melodic se,,,.... whereby the note that we now hear is impregnated with the immediately preceding it. Or again one may say that sedimented present state of the world is the entire past without which the would not be the present that it is. But these analogies would not either Bergson or Deleuze, because they make the paradoxes intelligible by spatializing duration. Notice, for example. how

�

paradox of the survival of the past in itself tests the limits of c"mDl sense, ruling out any reference to a causal explanation which takes effects ofthe past on the present as its point of depanure. It is in of duration alone that the paradoxes must be admitted in our logy.

Deleuze-&rgson: an Ontology 0/ lhe Virtual

95

And this is precisely what Deleuze-Bergson does. Beginning with rand dualisms of duration and space, memory and matter, dif· the g and the repetition of the same, he is going to show that the (erence can be managed inside a superior monism. Despite the dualisms sharp distinction between space and duration, space itself initial, duration, no motion and no change endures. If space were foreign [0 could ever take place in it. Change and motion require an enduring

space. Space, therefore, can no longer be the absolute fonn of exte­

riority. There will always be duration in extension and extension in duration. Space and time cannot be separated from each other - all

distances are spatio·temporal. 'Matter.' writes Deleuze, 'is never ex· panded enough to be pure space, to stop having the minimum of contraction through which it participates in duration . . . '43 When all is said and done, the grand dualism of duration and space

turns into a dualism of tendencies - contraction and dilation - in need o( co-ordination. This is how Deleuze expresses this difficult point: A mixture is divided into two tendencies, one of which is the simple and indivisible duration; at the same time, duration is differentiated along

twO

directions, one of which is matter. Space is divided into maner and

duration, but duration is differentiated as contraction and dilation, dilation being the principle of maner . . . Dualism, therefore, is over-. come toward monism, but monism gives us a new dualism which, this

time, is mastered and dominated. The division of the mixture and the differentiation of the simple are not done in the same way.44

Duration is one of the two tendencies; spatialization is the other. But

since the nature of duration is to differ from itself, that which it differs from is still duration. When the mixrure is divided, we are left with

duration and spa,ce. The former is the bearer of all the differences of nature, since as an intensive manifold it has the property of varying qualitatively from itself. The latter, as a discrete multiplicity, varies only according to degrees. Difference of narure, therefore, does not lie �tween the tendencies. Difference of nature is one of the tendencies

(dura tion) and matter is the indifferent, that which repeats itself, being Incapable of changing its own narure and, therefore, varying only in

lenns of degrees. The whole point is to notice that division and

differenciation do not coincide. From the point of view of dilation and Contraction, all degrees coexist in a single narure which is expressed,

On one hand, in differences of nature and, on the other. in differences

�

of degre e. There are degrees of difference: maner is the lowest of

em, the most dilated Slate where difference is nothing but a dif­

erence of degree.4�

96

Constantin V. Boundas

It follows from all this that, for Bergson at least, the transition a phenomenology of inner-time consciousness to an ontology of dura..

tion is marked by the victory over the initial dualism of duration IlQd

spacej and that this victory, in rum, is won through the spirituali28tio a of the entire world. The dilations and the contractions of duration

in the last analysis, contractions and dilations of the Spirit. In

extreme state of dilation, Spirit approximates the condition-limit of ...

indifferent matter, without ever reaching it. Here is how himself expresses this spiritualization of the world:

What we wish to establish is that we cannot speak of a reality that endures without insening consciousness into it

. . . (I)f (we)

were to fIX

attention upon time itself. (we) would necessarily picture succession,

and therefore before and after, and consequently a bridge between the twO

(B)ut, once again, it is impossible to imagine or conceive

•

connective link between the before and after without an clement of 46 memory and, consequently, of consciousness. • • .

In Deleuze's 'repetition' of Bergson. the notion of the Spirit is present and, therefore, one may conclude that, in his case, at least,

explanation does not hold. Yet, Deleuze also speaks of the WO"I(' 10 .. 'living animal',n and despite the metaphoricity ofthis expression,

can easily fmd in it the transformation of the Bergsonian thesis. 'S,,;,;;,o may be a dangerous word, but parallelism between extension is Spinoza's thesis, and Deleuze, as we know, is as much Spinozist he is Bergsonian. And now for a new question: how can a theory which gives suCh . absolute primacy to duration explain the existence of things or of things which appear to be permanent and solid? In other wod,' how does differentiation take place inside the flux of duration? leuze's ontology, borrowing resources from Bergson, attempts answer the question on the basis of variations of rhythm and move­ ment. Duration is characterized by rhythmic contractions and dila­ tions of varying intensity.... Between the maximum contraction wbicb

corresponds to the Spirit and the maximum dilation which chara� terizes inertia and matter, one can find the varying degrees ofintensitf

corresponding to the many real things. Often, in the writings of Deleuze, we witness a repetition of Bergson's famous pulsational theory of duration: different degrees of spatiality correspond to differ-­ ent degrees of durational tension. whereas the acceleration of the

temporal rhythm generates extension. Once again, from a psycholo-­ gical point of view, this claim does not raise serious questions. It is the

Deleuze-Bergson: a" Ontology oj the Virtual

97

of this claim to the domain of ontology which is bold: translation according to Bergson's theory, arises through a mere reduc· on, ensi ext tion of the temporal span. Given the intensive nature of the durational continuum, the linkage between successive moments may loosen sig­ nificantly but it can never be completely interrupted. The idea that vibrating energy is the energy of existence is not foreign to modem physics.49 On the contrary, the latter accepts totally the idea that maner transforms itself into undulatory rays and that rays transform themselves into maner. This symmetrical relation between matter and energy supports the conclusion that matter and vibrating energy are similar or, at least, that matter, just like vibratory energy, must have undulatory and rhythmic characteristics. If a particle stops vibrating, it would stop being. And it is a mistake to think that these observations apply only to microphysics. Solids as well owe their stability to a rhythmic discordance. It follows that the initial problem is no longer how matter vibrates, but rather how vibration acquires its material aspects. The relation of being and time appears under a different light. Earlier, in the discussion of the co·ordination of tendencies, I al· luded to Deleuze·Bergson's controlled pluralism. The formula ·plu· ralism = monism' is indeed his. This formula, I think, finds its best i stantiation in Deleuze-Bergson's commitment to the idea that there n is only one duration.so Duration is universal, univocal and unique. It is a concrete universal. The hypothesis of many, different time·series, which seems to follow from Einstein's special theory of relativity, rests on a disingenuous spatialization of time. But even if one grants this spatialization, the plurality of time·series does not follow. As Deleuze observes, while the special theory of relativity does not allow a juxta· position of events which would be a juxtaposition for all observers, there are nevenheless in it certain types of succession recognized as such in all frames of reference. Such types of succession are repres· tnted by causal series, like, for example, the world·lines of photonsY These types of succession guarantee the uniqueness and irreversibility of duration. Duration, being a concrete universal, is a virtual whole, but this whole is never given. 52 The belief that it is given is the result of the transcendental illusion generated by the spatialization of time. That e whole is not given means that the whole is open and that, as such, It .changes constantly as it endures. The whole must not be confused �Hh a closed set or with the set of all sets. Not being made of parts, it IS that which prevents a set or a frame from closing upon itself and causes it to communicate with a larger frame. Deleuze, later on in his

�

98

Constantin V. Boundas

work, will call the open whole the 'out of field', and he will that its presence is both relative and absolute: relative, in the ", , that the closed and framed systems refer spatially to othe " tI are not yet visible; and also absolute, in lhe sense that which system opens up to the immanent duration of the whole, which not another system nor is it of the order of the visible. A t1u,..... ing otherness which subsists or insists - that is what the open stands for.

:�;::: �

We must be delighted, says Deleuze, that the Whole is not given . . . The confusion of space and time, the assimilation of time n i to space. make us think that the whole is given . . . And this is the mistake that .. common to mechanism and finalism. The former assumes that every. thing is calculable in terms of a state; the latter that everythina:

ill

determinable in terms of a program. In any event, time is only there now

as a screen that hides the eternal . . . But the fact, that real space only three dimensions, that time is not a dimension of space, means this; there is an efficacity,

a positivity of time

_

reaDr

that is identical to "

a 'hesitation' of things and, in this way, creation in the world.

Beyond Bergson? I want now to conclude this essay with a brief discussion objections which have been raised against the ontology of the I call one of the objections the objection of the missing absence, the other, the objection of the everlasting present. BOth challenge the suucture of the Deleuzean virtual either by a this virtual is a seamless plenum unable to sustain otherness difference or by alleging that virtual duration levels off all ec-stases, reducing them all to an everlasting present, . feeding novelty and creativity. Both objections have been succinctly by Gaston Bachelard and although he directed them Bergson, one may think that they may be directed against Del.�, II well .54 Lately, in fact, the objection of the seamless plenum repeated, this time against Deleuze, by Edith Wyschogrod.'5 As for objection of the everlasting present, Laurent Giroux's fine b,)ol<, ,[}II" pure et tempora/ire reminds us that it has also been raised Bergson by Sartre, Merleau-Ponty and Heidegger.56 I begin with the objection of the missing absence. In La D,;ai.""fqtI de' /a duree, Bachelard charged that Bergsonism is a philosophy of plenum and its psychology, a psychology of plenitude, Despite, a ances to the contrary, Bergson established a close solidarity b

\�i::�

:::

Deleuze--Bergson: an O,lto[ogy 0/the Virtual

99

future, and a viscosity of duration that made the past the st and b ran s

pll ce of the present. Given the virtual continuum, the creative �llrce of the future is bound to be seriously limited. To the extent, �d, that the function assigned by Bergson to the pres­ lI�gu d Bachela the past, the present cannot e

uahze create the new. The to act ent is only a memory and a hope, in other words, it is what we is Ossible n once and what we now hope to retrieve. 'Being, motion, know have duration [in Bergson] cannot tolerate gaps; they cannot be

p space,

negated through nothingness, rest, point or instanr:n Bergsonism, consequently, surrenders us to an immediate and profound continuity which can be interrupted only superficially and from the outside. Bachelard, it is true, concedes that there are pauses and failures in Bergson; but he goes on to say that their causes are always external. It

is matter that opposes life. What Bergsonism lacks is dialectics. In its

seamless plenum, one goes directly from one being to another, with­ out the intervention of nothingness. But without nothingness and

negation, Bergson's fonnula 'time is hesitation' cannot, concludes Bachelard, be justified. pii: It seems to me that Bachelard's critique is based on a pen'rio pn'nci

it assumes that the only way to prevent the plenum from suffocating us

is through perforation and excavation. But there may be alternatives.

Obviously, all philosophies of difference have seen themselves as such an alternative. Especially in the case of Deleuze, any analogical linkage

�tween him and Plotinus - any reference to the One beyond Being, the plenum and the

' hypostases - are

bound to fail. The space of the

vinual in Deleuze, and the arrow of a possible exploration of it, point

toward Bergson and Spinoza - not at all toward Plotinus; but then the plenum gives way to the continuum, with a very different problematic, as we saw above.

And now for the second objection, the objection of the everlasting present. Giroux states this objection admirably in the following few lines: Bergson's mistake . . . lies in his attempt to show that the paSt conserves itSelf, to the point that the relation belWeen past and furure are reduced

to a mere 'pressure' that the former exen! upon the latter through the present. Bergson wanted to restore being to the past, but he did it to the

detriment of the past. The past is thrrl (virtually) and, consequently, tlu /JQu is as present. As for the unforeseeable future, it does not escape futural non-being. Aren't we, therefore, despite the authentic intuition o.f a Pure temporal surge, the prisoners of the traditional representation SlOce neither the past as such nor the future has any being except in , relation to the present?51 .

,

100

Constantin V. Boundas

To be there is still to be present. A vinual present cannot account the being afthe past. The objection is in some ways reminiscent of Same's cri'tiq,,", , according to which Bergson's mistake was in his effort to bring past into the present,. instead of starting off from our existence ill

present and then explaining how the past can be recaptured."

in fact, sides with the tradition according to which the past is no,.;

the past can ever have. The objection is also reminiscent of

....

r::��':�

consciousness can find its way to the past and this is all the beine Panty for whom the only sense that the conservation of the f

have is in terms of its effect upon the present. Time cannot constituted with conserved pasts and the past orientation of OUf ence is anterior to our memories, in the precise sense that it

them possible.60 But it is in Heidegger that this objection finds its clearest

tion.6L According to Heidegger, Bergson's critique of the '""litio i .

concept of time promises to reach for a more fundamental notioG

temporality, but it does not deliver. To see the failure. it is eno�IIh ' notice that Bergson's duration is still a succession. It is true succession is not quantitative - not a discrete multiplicity nf nn;.". ,

instants - but rather a qualitative imbrication of enduring ,.,pIt'" No matter; the very idea of succession entails the idea of time passage through a series of nows. In order to avoid this turn, Heidegger chooses to raise the question of time otherwise. him, fundamental temporality has nothing to do with successioD.

�:�:

rather an ec-static deployment of existence towards an 'ahead a 'behind' oneself, in search of the moment of a�:':;::i

I duration, therefore, to become fundamental temporality, the . being must transcend. in its own being, the present, in order to

its own past from the vantage point of its future. thus, receiviDI present as a gift. My response to this objection is fourfold. It misrepresents the

of Bergsonian duration; it overlooks the fact that the later Be",aiI came to appreciate the future beyond the mere claim that it is forward thruSt of the presentj it is not free of the last vestiges fA human-all-too-human phenomenology; and finally, it is a ri C i

�

Deleuze himself who finds in Nietzsche's eternal ret urn a corrective to Bergson's shortcomings.

t::::

I explain briefly:

(I) Although claims advanced by Bergson, about the present being the most contracted point of the past and about the

De/euze-Bergson: an Ontology 0/ the Vinua/

101

cion of the emire past in itself, may, if taken out of context, support the conclusion that Bergsonism is another philosophy of presence, the paradoxes of co-existence and contemporaneity, which I dis­ cussed above, give rise to and suppOrt a different interpretation. It is as if the presem is never really present to itself, haunted as it is by the past that it is in the process of becoming and by the future that

it is in the mode of not yet being it. Present and past alike are haunted by an immemorial past which has never been. It is hard to see the justification for an objection which sees nothing but being there in all these constructions. It is more plausible to see in them a

past always already haunted by a 'there has been' and a 'there will be: and a present which never quite is. (2) Now, as far as the future is concerned, it is true that Bergson's paradoxes of duration have little to say. Only late in his life, Bergson came to focus on consciousness, not as a mere instrumem of reten­ tion, but rather as an instrument of choice, and as a result of this new focus, he carne to rethink the constitution of time from the vantage point of the future.'l It is only in this new context that the

future is able to emerge in the light of freedom, because it is that which cannot be foreseen. Without the pressure that the future exens upon the present, action itself would be inconceivable. With­ out the future, the memorandum, despite its location in the pure form of the past, may easily revert to a representation of a mythical present, bringing thereby an abrupt halt to differenciation. It is with reference to this third synthesis of time - future time that Deleuze ultimately takes his distance from Bergson. The myth­ ification of the old present and, therefore, the reintroduction of identity, are unavoidable, he concludes, unless the future of the eternal return is thematized. This third synthesis stands for the empty form of time. Here, the time of the eternal return (temps

a-venir) is constituted in the process of expelling all determinate

COntents from itself. Pure repetition of pure difference disturbs the repetitions of habit and the repetitions of memory, since the linear Succession of lived presents and the circular recognition of revolving pasts are now replaced by the eternal return of different/­ ciation .

. (3) The objections of Sarue and Merleau-Ponty are too much Involved in the phenomenology of consciousness and subjectivity to be of much use to a theory of real time. As far as Heidegger's fundamental temporality is concerned, one may wish to raise two questions: Aren't the ec-stases, which open up the past and the future for the sake of the authentic retrieval of the present, still

Constantin V. BOlmdas

102

�':::'::::�

pr�supposing subjectivity, even when they p�sume to have left behind? Or, to the extent that they are successful in e the vestiges of subjectivity, aren't they closer than

had thought to the 'spiritual' repetition of the Deleuzean return?

(4) Finally, the eternal return - the memory of the future

_

Deleuze's ontology of the virtual" and takes it beyond Herp"-4 Eternal return is 10 the theory of becoming what recollection

Plato's theory of Being. �col1ection is the passage from the of appearances and becoming to the reality of the Ideas. A tion of origin seals the ontology of Bein'g and separates and stemologically and ethically selects the original from the

Eternal return is the passage from the transcendental iIIusiOD

�;�::::.�I�:

Being to the joyful wisdom of difference. A repetition of the seals the ontology of becoming and performs the e

and ethical selection of the simulacrum. JUSt as the I

nesis dispels the illusion ofthe multiple and strengthens the

of the same for the sake of its true destiny in Being, so the

return dispels the illusion of the One and severs the relaboa tween the will to power and its self-identical preservation fot sake of all possible worlds. According to the old image of Thought, there is repetition wb...�

things are numerically distinct in space and time while their

remains the same. But for Deleuze-Bergson, to repeat is always tobelbol in relation to something unique and singular which has neither

nor equivalence.� 'If repetition exists,' writes Deleuze. 'it ex pro ... ...' once a singularity opposed to the general, a universality opposed to

particular, a distinctive opposed to the ordinary, an n i stantaneilf posed to variation, and an eternity opposed to permanence.'" As a result of Deleuze-Nietzsche's reading of the future in the

of the eternal return, Bergson's duration acquires a depth that it not have. The repetitions are now ramified. The present of contracts the repeated moments and extracts something them. Reminiscence, on the other hand. searches for the

:�:

the immemorial past and runs the risk of confusing past � the a priori past. But the third time - the time of the eternalI

::;�

dissolves the habit and displaces memory for the sake of the ultlln,,",

triumph of difference. This is the time of the Idea, no longer the . . of the concept, because the concept is the instrument of recogrutioO, and representation, whereas the Idea is the element where are formulated.

[)eleuze-Bergson: an Ontology 0/ the Virtual

103

therefore, the repetitions of habit and memory 'bare' and of the et mal return 'disguis d . eleuze s v s to etition rep the . them. He stnves to show that the disgUised' repeouon IS nate ordi o cause of the 'bare' one, just as intensity is the cause of extension. Calling,

� � �

�

��

�e

it is true that the intensive repetition is the repetition of the If then, the extensive, the repetition of the concept, to show that the and I ea, ' repetition is the cause of the 'bare' is to show that the Idea s ed gui dis '

d

is

the c

ause of the concept. A concept has extension, that is, a range of

� instantiate it. But an �d�a - being a structure - is an

particu lars whic

. intensive magnitude. It follows that It IS the Idea-problem which circulates in repetition and which differenciates itself in the concepts­ solutions. But since no concept is ever adequate to the Idea, no 'bare'

repetition can ever capture the essence of the vinual; and yet the latter is constantly reflected in the former which is its product.

NOTES Gilles Deleuze (with Claire Pamet),

Dialogues,

trans. Hugh Tomlinson

and Barbara Habberjam, London: Athlone and New York: Columbia 2

University Press, 1987, p. 15.

In De1euze's two volumes on cinema, we find a very stimulating en­ counter with Bergson. I regret that the space available to me does not permit the exploration of this encounter. The reader may wish to consult Paul Douglass, 'De1euze's Bergson: Bergson Redux',

ernism: Bergson and the VitaJin Contrwmy, 3

The Cn·sis in Mod­

ed. F. Burwick and P. Dou­

glass, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992, pp. 363-88.

Madeleine Barthelemy-Madaule, 'Lire Bergson',

lIes,

VIU (1968), pp. 83-120.

4

Maria Rosario Restuccia, 'Deleuze e Bergson',

5

(1983), pp. 167-71.

Gillian Rose, Dialectic 0/ Nihili sm; Basil Blackwell, 1984, pp. 87-108.

Les Etudes Bergsonien­ Cannochiale,

Post-Structuralism and Law,

nos 1-2 Oxford:

6 Bruno Paradis, 'Indetermination el mouvements de bifurcation chez Bergson',

PhiloJophe, i

32, aUlomne 1991, pp. 1 1-40.

7 Douglass, 'Deleuze's Bergson', pp. 368-82; and Douglass, 'Ddeuze and 8

9

[0 [I

the Endurance of Berpon', Thought 67: 264 (March 1992), pp. 47-6 1 .

Michad Hardt,

GiJ/es Deleuze: An Apprenticeship in Philosophy,

Minnea­

polis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993, pp. 1-25.

See Fran�ois Zourabichvili, Deleuze. Une philosophie de I'wbrement, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1994, pp. 5-6 .

�ee Deleuze, BergsDnum, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habber­

lam, New York: Zone Books, 1988, pp. 35-40. For lhese definitions, see ibid., p. 39.

Constamin V. Boundas

104 12

See ibid., pp. 38-44; Deleuzc (with Felix Guattari), A Thousand Capita/ism and Schizophrenia, trans. Brian Massumi, University of Minnesota Press, 1987. pp. 14-16, 44-50, 305_7.

13 . Gilles Delcuze, 'La Conception de la difference chez Bergson', Bergsonjenne5, vol. 4 (1 956). pp. 77-112. 14 Jean Milet, BtrtlQ" et It cakuJ infinitesimal ou la raison et Ie llmps, Presses Universitaires de France. 1974, p. 58. 15 On De1euze's critique o[phenomenology, see Deleuze, The Logi(.

lk""''';�i�

16 17 18

trans. Mark Lester with Charles Stivalc, ed. Constantin V. York: Columbia University Press, 1990, pp. 109-17, 301-20; leuze, Cinema 1: The MotJtmem·/mage. trans. Hugh Tomlinson IDd ban Habberjam, London: Athlone and Minneapolis: The U',i••""" , Minnesota Press, 1986, pp. 56-7. Bagso71ism, pp. 20-1,34,35. Ibid., p. 35. Gilles Deleuze, Differe71u and Repetition, trans. Paul Patton, don: Athlone and New York: Columbia University Press,

129-67. 19 20

'La Conception de la difference chez Bergson', pp. 56-7 Some readers may find it strange that Deleuze makes intensive rudes the cornerstone of his ontology, despite Bergson's w.,n�koa critique of intensities. See Henri Bergson, Time and Fru Will. An Ihe Immediale Data o/Consciousness, trans. F. L Pogson, London: Allen and Unwin Ltd, 1910, pp. 84 0"; and Bergson, Maner and trans. Nancy M. Paul and W. SCOtt Palmer, London: George Unwin Ltd, 1 9 1 1, pp. 206-7. But notice Bergson's explanation Melanges (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1972), p. alld Free Will, I criticized the notion of intensity in psychology but as demanding to be interpreted. No one can deny that ' state has an intensity.' See Bergsonism, pp. 75-6; and 'La ( la diff erence chez Bergson', 95-7. 'La Conception de la difference chez Bergson', p. 83; 'Bergson (1859-1941)', Les PhiJosophes celebres, ed. M. M,""'"U-.... Paris: Editions d'Art Lucien Mazenod, 1956, p. 295. For Deleuze's discussion of the virtual and the possible, see B. pp. 96 ff; 'Bergson (1859-1941)', pp. 296-9; and DiffeTe1lCe rioll, pp. 208-14. For Bergson's discussion of the same issue, see

!.::::::�

21

22

�...

alld Free Will. 23

Michael Hardt seems to think that Deleuze-Bergson is, with the virtual, an Aristotelian, but I think he is wrong on this Hardt, Gilles Deieuze, p. 17; see also pp. 14-19. For a of the difference, See Milet, Bergson er ie calcul illfi'liltsmal i uu la Ie temps, p. 128. See also Pierre Aubenque's subtle discussion of Aristotelian potency and act in Le Problime de ['irre chez Presses Universitaires de France, 1962, pp 439-50; and Allan B.

Deleuze-Bergson: an Omology of the Virtual

105

The Transcemuntais and their Function in /he MetaphysiCJ of Duns Scotus, Washington: The Catholic University of America Press, 1946, pp. 90-2, 1 )2, 1 45-8.

24 25 26 27

John Duns Sc.Otus� Opus Oxoniense (Opna Omnia. Ed. L Wadding, 1639; reprinted Pans: VIVes, 189 1-95), Pt. I, III, 3; Pt. II, 7. Conception de la difference chez Bergson', pp. 64-5. 'La

BertSol/ism, pp. 1 3-- 1 5; ibid., pp. 80, 85-6. For the reference to Schelling, sec 'La Conception de la difference chez

Bergson', p. 85. Schelling himself characterized his later philosophy as folloWS: 'Negative philosophy is a priori empiricism, i.e., the a priori of empiricism, and for that ruson itself nOl empiricism . . . Positive philos­ ophy is empirical apriorism, i.e., the empiricism of the a priori . . .'

28 29 )0

31 32 33 34

Schellillgs Werke (Stuttgart and Augsburg, 1856-61), II, 3.130. Bergsonism, pp. 28-9.

DifferelUe and Rtpttititm, ch. 4. Henri Bergson, The Creative Mind. A Study i1l Metaphysics, trans. Mabelle L Andison, New York: Philosophical ljbrary, 1946, pp. 196-7.

Difference and Rtpttititm, pp. 247-9. Ibid., ch. 5. Ibid., pp. 194-5.

This is the title of one of Antonin Artaud'. works appropriated by lkleuze in the context of Deleuze's denunciation of the priority that judgement has been given in the traditional image of thought; see Gilles Deleuze, 'Pour en finir avec Ie jugement', Critique et C/iniqut, Paris: Les Editions de Minuit, 1993, pp. 1 58-69.

3S 36

37 38 39

Difference and Rtpetition, p. 2 1 4ff. Bergsonism, pp. 9 1 - 1 1 3 . Madeleine Barthelemy-Madaule, Bergson, Paris: Seuil, 1967, p. 1 12. Bergsonism, p. 1 1 3. Ibid., p. 100.

40 'La 41

42 43

Conception de la difference chez Bergson', pp. 73-4, 103; ibid.,

p. 94.

On the paradoxes of time, see &rgsonism, ch. 3; 'Bergson (1859-1941)', pp. 298-9; and Difference and Repetition, ch. 2. Henri Bergson, Creative Evolution, trans. Arthur Mitchell, London: Macmillan and Co, 1 9 1 1 , p. 6.

Bergsonism, p. 88. ' Bergson (1859-1941)', p. 296. ., Bergso"inl/ , pp. 92-3, 96; ibid., pp. 294-6; and 'La Conception de la diff erence chez Bergson', pp. 67-92. .. H enri Bergson, Duration and Simulro'leiry, trans. Leon Jacobson, India47 napolis: BObbs-Merrill, 1965, pp. 47-8.

44

Dekuze, The Fold: Leib"iz and the Baroque, trans. Tom Conley; Minnea­ Polis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993, pp. 108- 1 1 . See also Alain Badiou 'Gilles Deleuze, The Fold. Leibniz and the Baroque,' Gilles

Comlann'" V. Boundas

106

48

49 50 51 52

Deleuzt and the Theater of Phl1oJophy, cd. C. Boundas and D. OU .... .. New York: Routledge, 1994, p. 55. Bergsonsm. i pp. 103-5; and A Thousand PkJuaus pp. 3 10-50. See Gaston Baehelard, 1.0 Dial«tiqlU de III dum, Paris: Presses de France, 1950, ch. 8; Lucio Albeno Pinheiro dos Santos, La aJySt (Rio de Janeiro, 1931); and Milk Capek, Bergson and Physics. A Reinterpretation and lUftlaJlUlljon. Boston S'�i'� :� ophy of Science, vol. VD. Ed. R S. Cohen and M. W. Dodrecht: D. Reidel, 1971, pp. 205ff. See, for example, Louis de Broglie. Physique tt microphysiqlU, Michel. 1947, pp. 207-9. Bergsonism. pp. 77-8, 82-3. Capek, Bergson and Motkm Physics, p. Einstein, see Bergsonism, pp. 83-9. Sec Bnponism, pp. 77-8, 82-3, lOS. See also Milic Capek, ....� I'esprit de la physique contemporaine'. Congru Bergwn. Pari.,

;

U,"",,,,,.,.;;

!::

::

'

1959. Acus du X C6ngriJ du Societb de Philosophie de Language

Paris: Armand Colin, 1959, p. 56. 53 Bergsonism, pp. 104-5. 54 Baehelard, La Dialectique th ta durie. 55 Edith Wyschogrod, SaintJ and Postmodernism, Chicago: ChicalO sity Press, 1990, pp. 189-229. For the critique of Wyschogrod. eS$llY 'Gilles Deleuze: The Ethics of the Event', Joyful Wudom, eel. Goieoechea and Marco Zlomislic, St. Catharine's: Thought HoUlto pp. 169-99. 56 Laurent Giroux, Duril pun It umporalili. Bergson It Heideun, Bellamin, 1971. 57 Bachelard, La Diallcnqul de la durie, p. 7. 58 Giroux, Durie pure et ttmporaliti, p. 1 1 8 . 59 Jun-Paul Same, Being and Nothingness. An Essay in P l ... ... Ontology, uans. Hazel Barnes, New York: Pocket Books, 192-4.

60 61

62 63

64 65

...�

Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology ofPerception, uans. Colm London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1962, pp. 4 1 3-14. For a helpful presentation of Heidegger's views on fundamental rality and his critique of Bergson, see Giroux, DurU purt It p. 123ff. Bergson, The Creative Mind, pp. 91-106. See Gilles Deleuze, Nietzscht and Phlosophy, i uans. Hugh Tomll.... London: Athlone and New York: Columbia University Pres., 47-9, 68-71 and ch. 5. Dijferenu and Repetition, ch. 2 and conclusion. Ibid., pp. 2-3.

6

The Deleuzian Fold of Thought -

Jean-Luc Nancy

Instead of a DeJeuzian philosophy situated somewhere in a panorama i or an epsume of the epoch, one might speak of a Deleuzian fold of thought: a mark, an impetus, a habitus (by no means a habit) which, to a greater or lesser extent, one cannot avoid sharing with this thought - at least when one is thinking in or about the present (and not like those who still think themselves among the Enlightened, if nOt the Academy) . Today, one would not be thinking without taking some­ thing from this fold, which doesn't mean that one must incline to­ wards it, nor does it imply that there arc not diverse ways of taking this fold, of folding it, unfolding and refolding it in tum. Gilles Deleuzc's thought is so rar �moved from the sources, sche­ mata and modes of conduct which. for me, 8re those of philosophical w()rk, that I would like at least to sketch the strange proximity which ()bliges me, despite eveiything, to take a fold from his thought. This is a proximity which remains within the order of the fold, first of all in the sense of an inclination, a bent or tendency, but also in the sense of �e f()lded form itself, the mark of a delicate aniculation, a pleat if you like, a crease or a shifting of thought. 1 will limit myself here to a few Mtes, a few discontinuous points which trace this strange proximity. r. It is, in any case, one of those necessary proximities which marks a ealure of the age and through which one recognizes that one is a COntemporary. A contemporary is not always someone who lives at the same t. m l c, nor someone who speaks of overtly 'current' questions. But . it IS SOmeone in whom we recognize a voice or gesture which reaches fr()m a hitherto unknown but immediately familiar place, someIng which we discover we have been waiting for. or rather which has

�.

108

Jean-Luc Nancy

been waiting for us, something which was there, imminent. We knotp immediately that this is a possibility which constitU[es the presence of' the present, and must do so. I could draw a parallel with my discover, not so long ago, of free jazz: jazz was already history when, all of • sudden, in a few bars of Albert Ayler, I recognized that this voice, tone, this gesture were absolutely necessary. They were necessary DOt through the necessity of destiny or sense of history, nOf as an OUtc01De or programme, but as the evidence of a present: this moment, thiI present had this sound and this voice - it had to have them. Similarly, at the end of my studies when I still practised ph.il'>so�, as a contemporary of Sanfe and Bergson, and even of Hegel or I recognized some voices, traits, folds which were contemporary: da, Deleuze, Lacan, Blanchot. There was in philosophy, alth'''� , given various inflections, a tone of the present. This tone i, something added on to the present like a superfluous ornament, rather it is the present itself, the presentation of the present as is not modish; it is modernity - in the sense in which the modern irreversible and incontestable absoluteness of the present.

�

'

( I

A Deleuzian fold then. For me, it was rather others who wove backcloth: they shared the Germanic and metaphysical origins present in thought. But Deleuze traversed this cloth with a sir ... ... less familiar, fold. He never turned to Hegel, was never · to dialectical continuity woven at once from the logic of a proceu an origin towards an end) and from the structure of a subject appropriation, an intention, a being-in-itself or a l":k-of··b,,ing-i".jj self). I had to discover, Iitde by little, that it is precisely along major lines that Deleuze was creating a fold - as if by the flick fingernail (Deleuze's nails . . .) he raised or lowered another, rogeneous dimension, that of a plane or a ne.twork, which was being nor process, but rather compo oints, distributions, rals, spaces. To a thought which could be described in the bn,a
�

;:;��:=

)

and their end, which seems more properly to imply the concept . genesis. Let's say that when Deleuze says genesis I don't hear geneSJlo There is a mis-hearing which does not mean disagreement. TbiI

109

The Deleuzian Fold of Thought

ring will, unavoidably, lead me to misinterpret. But it is at this ":is-hea there is any point to this confrontation, any point to con­ ice that ont an intimate discordance, there where we are folded against each

�

other, one against the other.)

understand how one can leap outside of genesis, whatever I will never

or impasses (or precisely because of these). But I do its abysses understand that distribution is a contemporary fold of genesis itself, that genesiS must unfold in and of itself.

I understand,

then, that with

the fold there is also a leap.

This very general, and consequently very vague, way of talking in

fact obscures something very precise and even very pointed: the indi­ cation of a contemporary necessity, of our necessity of thought, which would persist within the fold itself, or within the leap. Philosophy folded in twO, at right angles to itself: thus in some way discontinuous or straining against itself, in debate with its own proceedings, with its own subject. Within my tradition, Heidegger calls this the 'end of philosophy'. This 'end' is the folding back of a genesis which touches

on its own closure - which thus, in a certain sense, ceases to generate or be regenerated, but which also frees, within the hollow of the fold, quite different possibilities, possibilities of a

leap

which would

not amount to throwing oneself elsewhere (as if another world would open up) but rather leaping in place. Folding, leaping in place, and thus distorting or displacing the ground (the foundation, or its un­ founding) . There is a turning point here, a wrenching, a change of epoch: it is not in vain that we are at the end of one millennium and the beginning of another, at the boundary of the WeSt and at the spilling over of the

World. Such is the contemporary fold. It is a considerable matter.

Several folds or several leaps of thought may be needed to give the

measure of it. Moreover, the measure of it is inevitably distressing, or at the very least arduous and difficult: thought can only run up against it. It is not a matter of reconciling the sides of the fold. One must work

�ith the fold, and work with that which in the fold forms a simple but tncomestable incompatibility. The contemporary configuration shows th.e measu re, or the excessiveness, of thought's open incompatibility

WIth itself (in distinction with other times in which actuality lay in resolut

organicity). It seems to me that the way in which a� leastion,twosynthesis, great strands of contemporary thought are estranged t ;ough the fold (and not through negativity, hostility, conflict) is an

a SOlute

Structural mark of the most radical and demanding . neceSSltles of this thought. Folded thought: thought which no longer '

1 10

Jean-Luc Nancy

consists in unravelling, in connection, in representative ,ub,'un IPliot in the detennination or convocation of ends. Gilles Deleuze's philosophy is a vinual philosophy, In

'difr';:";

which we use this word today when we speak, in a ,,,,,,,g,,IY in wayJ of virtual reality or image - designating a universe entirely

from images, and not only images as high quality illusions of the

but rather, those that leave no place for the opposition between real and the image. The 'virtual' world (conforming with the usage of the word) is a universe of image-effectivity. Thus Deleuze does not anempt to speak about the real as an referent (the thing, man, history, what is). He effectuates a phD"", hieal real. Philosophical activity is this effectuation. For him, a concept is not to draw the empirical under a category: construct a universe of its own, an autonomous universe, an

connexW which does not imitate the other, which does not rel''''''� or signify it, but which effectuates it in its own way. Deleuze's in the cinema is not JUSt appended to his work: it is at the the projective principle of this thought. It is a cinema-thought, sense of having its own order and screen, a singular plane nf�,_.

tion and construction, of displacements and dramatization nf___ (the word 'concept' means this for Deleuze - making C" ,., nallie)

. one wanted to take this further, and seek out the fold, one W( 'WQ I

to ask oneself in what way the other strain ofthought is a maner

theatre.

The world thus effectuated is at the same time very like Descartes says of his

Warld), and yet altogether different. One

that other philosophies are occupied with maners of the world, of all kinds, while this one is occupied, strictly speaking, with ' it neither judges nor transforms the world, it effectuates it oUler"'''' a 'virtual' universe of concepts. This thought does not have 'the for an 'object - it has no 'object.' It is another effectuation of the admitting that the real 'in itself is chaos, a sort of effectivity

effectuation. Thought consists in combining and varying 'vi,ctual ' efI�

tuations. In a sense, this thought is without connections with the Conversely, for the other philosophical strain, thought has to do

the real, it plunges into it, even if this means losing itself there. why the former places itself under the sign of play or affirmation. latter under the sign of care and waiting.

�

The virtual universe is one of variable geometry, complex d,,,atio stratifications and interleavings. appearances and disappearances.

The Deleuzian Fold of Thought

III

a

world of perception nor of signification. It is a world withom n' but with sequences; without genesis, but with forces. This is ll. s o W y it is a universe rather than a world. Deleuze's thought is not out in being-in-the-world. but in the effectuation of a universe, ayed p of several. Above all. however. 'effectuation' here does not mean rniurgy or poieril. One does not see here the great, intimate debate

?

t

;: h •t �:

and poetry which occupies such a place within my between philosophy this is not because philosophy would like to think itself But tion. "adi or logical: it is rather because it behaves. altogether trictly scientific another poetry. which is not concerned to rival the other, as ruraI1Y. meditate on its proximity. nor to

�

It is a philosophy of nomination and not of discourse. It is a matter of

naming the forces. the moments and the configurations, not unravell­ the meaning or following it back. Naming, in itself, is not a semantic operation: the point is not to signify things but rather [0 n i dex by means of proper names the elements of the vinual universe.

n i g

Perhaps no other philosophy makes such use of proper names: on the

one hand it imparts a 'becoming-concept' to proper names (Nietzsche, Leibniz, Bergson, Ariadne, etc.), and on the other it imparts a 'becom­ ing-proper-name' to concepts (plateau or rhizome, refrain or fold).

J

The proper name is the asemantic limit of the semantic gesture

Naming is thus rather a material gesture: the movement to displace a

mass, a charge, a trace, so as to index it differently. To 'bring to language' does not here mean to translate into language (for if it were

a matter of translation, the thing to translate would itself already

belong to language, to another language, that of nature for example). but it means to have language /uar the weight of what it is not. The

incOrporeal laden with. the corporeal: not by giving it sense nor mani­ festing its sense, but by effectuating it different1y.

A philosophy of speed opposed to the slowness inherent in discourse. Not the anxious apparatus of proof, but the arrow of judgement (by which I understand the judgement of existence. not the judgement of value with

Which Deleuze wants to 'have done'). Hence also that all writing is ncentrated in names and not in movements of phrase. It is not a matter

�

Style �� �

o

(in the sense of a reflexivity of language). it is a matter of i nation and description: a sort of grand ekphrasis (with the Greeks Was the genre specific to the description of pictures or tableaux). ph� dr�w up a tableau and let it be seen: such would be the philos­

O

""h IC�1 Imperative (elsewhere, on the contrary: what is there to see? at IS seeing? etc.)

1 12

)

Jean-Luc Nancy

A philosophy of passage, and not of ground or of territory, passage: a displacement and an assembling, fleeting or P,olo ' n�I . . always perfect, completed, which does not mean fulfilled. gramme, no intention, no fulfillment - no interiority, no

h

Neither landscape nor face, or rather it is an unfolded face, or still a face according to its folds, not the mirror of a soul, but the of a present truth. A philosophy which is not that of being. Which does not know or want anything of it. One might say that Deleuze wants to take things after the being. He wants nothing before this fold. And in fact there is before. In a sense, the fold is being itself. He knows full well tbIt 'after' is only a somewhat absent-minded, and perhaps even

reference or deference to the metaphysical order of priorities

principles. Once again he pushes aside genesis, origin and mel.

philosophy is a matter of continuous creation (always Descartes . At each moment, singularly, composing or recomposing a configuring and describing the configurations. Thus "',..".... chaos: not explaining or interpreting it, but traversing it, aU

across, in a traverse which orders the planes, landscapes, COOl'
without ground or form, imminence or occurrence; a d••ti""

even if nothing but being itself, pure and simple; and · the truth of sense even if it must coil up in the ,.."o·lol� being. Perhaps the fold happens here: between sense as compositiOD passage across a ground of chaos, and sense as the underlying logy of what being there is. Without a doubt the incision of the the folding itself in so far as it divides between the twO philosophy, is related to negativity: either the negative has the plenitude of chaos, or it hollows out being's lack of itself. For my I cannot understand how to avoid this hollowing out (death, genesis and end). This does not necessarily imply anguish or with their silent temptation to appropriate the negative as such thus, still, to dialecticize and overcome it. But it signifies that chaos itself, or rather,

in the hollow

of chaos, and thus also in

hollow of the passage, there is being: not a substance, but the tivity which bears me.

The Defeuzian Fold of Thought i comprehension. her overcome nor dismiss this n !1 neit

113 It appears

� Ce:Capably as if there are two massifs. two continents. two tectonic JO S of philosophy. Being or chaos. genesis or distribution. death or la'e p passage across. The one slides over the other or against it. the one

:�dS

o� the other - without passage from one to the other. without a slS of the two. sYnWe ln a way what is common to us is precisely what is not of the order

s: it is a motif of distancing. or of spacing. But different f synthesi negativity underly this motif. For Deleuze, spacing is first of nctions while for me it is clearly indissociable from a distribution. a of all if there is not first some primordial unity to be shat­ even rupturing. distribution is for me dislocation: it is the same t for him is Wha tered. n i the same negative) even if 1 do not see in it the (without th g negativity of a dialectic. (I would say rather that everything is ctsubje

�

played out in connection with Hegel: either one begins at a diJta"ce from him, or one di stances him from within, one smashes him down).

But distribution - doubtless one can only be diversely disposed towards it. in it. or on it. Would there be philosophy if there were no philosophical dissent? (This is the reason why a philosophy which claims to put an end to dissension, whether in a dogmatic or formalist way, which claims to advance general rules of validation for statements and concepts, disqualifies itself as philosophy.) There is no philos­ ophy, there are philosophies - but that there are philosophies, dissimi­ lar and irreducible, this itself is philosophy. This irreducible difference also determines, within its fold. a com­

mon

opposition to all the rest: faith. religion. ideology, solution,

fonnalism, everything which dissolves our freedom. Freedom is shared out but it does not divide. Undivided it shares itself through the fold and through the strange proximity of philosophical positions. translated by Tom Gibson and Anthony Uhlmann

7

Who' s Afraid of Hegelian Wolves? Catherine Malabou

On e or several Hegels? That is th e question that th is essay Deteuze, miming the well-known one that he and Guattan uk at the beginning of A Thousand Plateaus: 'On e or several Their question begins a critical analysis of Freud's tteauncnt Wolf-Man, an an alysis th at seeks to show that the ultimate classical psychoanalysis is to reduce the infinite multiplicity SciOllS affects to the logical unity of a signifier that always having the traits of the father. As the therapy develops, the malic wolves haunting the patient come to form a single Oedipus Wolf. 'No sooner does Freud discover the greatest unc onscious,' they write, 'than we find him tirelessly at work back molar unities. reverting to his familiar themes of penis,

the

vagina, Castration with a capital C

.

.

the

. Wh o is

,�'�(��

ild the fact mat wolves travel in packs? On ly Freud. Every ch Not Freud' (ATP 27-8 ) .

�:;�:�

The first chapter o fA Thousand Plateaus is without an the most gripping and convincing section s of the work,

f, a wolf never goes about alone, an d th at ' [ t]he wol intensities, speeds. temperatures, nondecomposable variable ces' (ATP 32). Yet it is precisely from the place a f m y firmest tion, as it were in the heart of the crowd or pac k by which I willingly lead along, that I will venture [0 ask whether, in the

Hegel, Deleuze does not in fact repeat the gesture that he CO(,de" in Freud; wh ether in Deteuze's work, as in Freud's, onc is n o

�

with this 'reductive glee' (ATP 28) by mean s of which becomes a un ity.

Who's Afraid 0/ Hegelian Wolves?

1 15

Hegel that appears in Deleuze's texts is always the single li1 fact thethinker of identity. From Nutzsche and Philosophy to Whal the of re and including Difference and Repetition, Hegelian philos­ hY?, op �g;l IS hyilos presented as perfectly expressing binary logic in all its syste­ i s p o adc heaviness: one plus one is twO, and twO ends up reducing to one. � as Deleuze allows in Difference and Repen·tion, difference is 'the 'ound' of the dialectic, it remains that it is 'orny the ground for the n of the identical. Hegel's circle is not the eternal return, �rnonstratio circulation of the identical by means of negativity' infinite the only 50). (DR It all seems as if, in order to show that Hegel is the most powerful thinker of the principle of identity, Deleuze cuts into the quick of speculative philosophy and in so doing fixes and contains its energy. The Deleuzian discourse which sees in Hegel's dialectics a principle or repetition that does not produce difference. is itself, from one end of his work to the other. univalent and univocal. In the first place he restricts dialectics to the indefatigable process of sublation (Aujhebutlg) of difference. and, in the second place, identifies it with a highly developed fonn of ressentiment. In a single passage from D f­ ference atld Repetition, for example, Deleuze affirms, in the first place, that 'of all the senses of aufheben, none is more imponant than that of "raise up." There is indeed a dialectical circle. but this infinite cirtle has everywhere only a single centre; it retains within itself all the other circles, all the other momentary centres'; and, in the sec­ ond place, that this 'raising up' is nothing more than a way of carrying that typifies Zarathustra's ass, for whom 'to affirm is to bear, to assume or to shoulder a burden. He bears everything: the burdens with which he is laden . . . those which he assumes himself . . . and the weight or his tired muscles when he no longer has anything to bear' (DR 53). After the fashion of the wolves on Freud's couch, Hegel, as con­ ceived of by Deleuze, apparently 'never had a chance to get away', L so much and so desperately does he come to resemble himself. 'The �rOper name,' we read in A Thousand Plateaus, 'does not designate an Individual: it is on the contrary when the individual opens up to the multiplicities pervading him or her, at the outcome of the most severe operation or depersonalization, he or she acquires his or her true �roper name. The proper namethat is the instantaneous apprehension of . ultip licity. The proper name is the subject of a pure infinitive om p ou nded m as such in a field of intensity' (ATP 37). That analysis dI oes not seem to apply to Hegel's proper name which is taken to be he unalterable and univocal signifier of a signified (Hegelian philosi

c

116

Catherine Ma/abow

ophy) that is itself unalterable and univocal. Hegel benefits &0lI:l: extenuating circumstances that might be brought to bear in

::;.:

vary the intensity of his name, conferring on it the rich and e : register of semantic variegation. Never does Deleuze seek to determine what the Hegelian .ql...... ent of 'conceptual personae' would be. No outline of Hegelian

ophy is drawn, if by 'outline' we understand what What is Pink..,,,,,,

calls the 'plane' of someone's thinking. This plan(t), constitutive each particular philosophy, is a complex play of movements 'that reversible and folded within each other' (WP 75). Concepts arc sonae' which emerge from the plane at the same time as they

it: 'There are innumerable planes, each with a variable cut'Ve. they group together or separate themselves according to the "'.;".. , view constituted by personae. Each persona has several featuf'CI may give rise to other personae, on the same or a different conceptual personae proliferate' (WP 76). In their own way

'personae' constitute the pack, or conceptual multiplicity, tnlt '....

the vitality of a given philosophy. The philosophies of Plato,

Leibniz, Kant and Nietzsche provide the most striking examples. Descartes, for whom, in the Dialogues with Claire Pamet,

declares his aversion, is called upon to back up this idea of

::::

personae.2

The Hegel 'case' is presented as a case apart. Near the b

What is Philosophy? the reader might think that Oeleuze is R' .

with the philosophical pack as it relates to speculative thoUJb,r,

i:���:!

plane and its personae: 'Hegel [had] the idea of making use diction between rival opinions to extract from them

propositions able to move, contemplate, reflect, and ;'

themselves and within the absolute (the speculative

wherein opinions become moments of the concept)' (WP 80).

��;:;:: :

�

readers might think, we find what we expected: the staging of a ,geIi , n h: : �;'P multiplicity that is inherent in the functioning of H �e : � play, � mobile points relating to each other within a d

:

inter-reflection of opposing forces . . . the Hegelian wolves have, haps, finally been recognized. Very quickly, however, the axe cutting cleanly the wings that Deleuze and Guattari for a moment growing from the System. Indeed the text continues as folloWS:

But, beneath the highest ambitions of the dialectic, and irrespective of the genius of the great dialecticians, we fall back into the most abje�

conditions that NietzSche diagnosed as the art of the pleb or bad taste ill ple philosophy: a reduction of the concept to propositions like sim

Who's Afraid of Hegelian Wolws?

1 17

opinions; false perceptions and bad feelings (illusions of rranscendence or of universals) engulfing the plane of immanence; the model of a form ofknowJedge

that constitutes only a supposedly higher opinion, Urdoxa; by teachers or leaders of schools.

a replacement of conceptual personae 'fhe

countless traits that gave the thinking its vitality, the elementary n of philosophy, the speed, movement and conceptual silhouettes satio pul , in the case of Hegel, to be once again frozen on a fixed plane, found are in the immobile image and severe and fatigued visage of the Prussian professor whose friends very early on nicknamed 'the old man.' Hegel never has a chance to get away. Let us imagine for a moment thai a student confides in Deleuze, saying mat in reading Hegel she sees, if not wolves, at least a pack of something. Let us suppose that this student adds that she considers me Hegelian system not to be like a tree, like a unicentred thinking, but a process of distribution of singularities, the regulated explosion of an energy free of all fixity, an economy of the fluidity of me real and of thinking; that she is particu­ larly interested in Hegel's preoccupation with 'fluidifying solidified thinking,' with dispossessing consciousness of its mastery. Would not Deleuze reply that it is impossible to uncover something like a pack or band within the dialectic? 'What is it I see, then?' the student would ask. 'You see a camel, an ox, an ass. Several animals, perhaps, but a single figure: that, precisely, of the unity that lays claim to its burden, its saddlebags, its harness, and moos, bleats, and brays.·J Just as, according to Deleuze and Guattari, for Freud to constitute psychoanalysis the wolves have to be domesticated, so the nomadic thought of difference and the rhizome is perhaps developed at the expense of a certain Hegelian multiplicity. One wonders as much when confronted with a Hegel so uniform, so monochrome, a Hegel Who plays the role of the detested domestic animal. According to Deleuze and Guattari, 'Freud only knows the Oedipalized wolf or dog, the castrated-castrating daddy-wolf, the dog in the kennel' (ATP 28-9). But doesn't Deleuze in fact transform Hegel into a dog? Doesn't Hegel become the 'bow-wow' of contemporary philosophers, the abhorred victim of the pack of the thinkers of difference, their absolute enemy? peaking of the enemy one thinks of the following passage from N a!,d Philosophy where Deleuze writes concerning Nietzsche: e will misunderstand the whole of Nietzsche's work if we do not see ..a gainst whom" its principle concepts are directed. Hegelian themes prescnt in this work as the enemy against which it fights' (NPh 62) . In this case Nietzsche would himself certainly argue for multi-

,';C� zj�lte

�r e

l iB

Calhen'ne Malabou

plicity as against unity. Enemies are, in fact, always several, Zarathustra is indeed 'grateful' to a plurality of enemies. 4 One therefore be sure that Nietzsche makes Hegel his single, worst I am led again to pose the question: One or several Hegels? In spite of appearances my foreword is not polemical. It is matter of prosecuting the case of 'Deleuze as reader of Hegel' of proposing a critique of such a reading. It is rather a matter exposing a difficulty. If, in order to thematize Deleuze's relation Hegel, one limits oneself to picking up on the numerous

� � ;: ��;':i=�

where the former deals with the laner, then one will not One would have to be content with enumerating a li, ist or with staging a duel between Hegel and Nietzsche, to 1

, blow the well-known pages of Nietzsche and Philosophy. Anyone

has read Deleuze knows those pages well. What purpose would served by reproducing or paraphrasing them? Would the solution therefore be to 'save' Hegel by showing Deleuze's thinking is already 'understood by' or 'included in' dialectic. to play Hegel off against Deleuze? Deleuze has

thought of this and forestalls such a possibility. In [)ilfernu:. Repetilion he shows that by opposing difference to Hegelian unity, perhaps runs the risk of appearing like a new figure of the soul.' 'The beautiful soul.' he writes, 'is in effect the one who differences everywhere and appeals to them only as respectable, cilable or federative differences, while history continues to be through bloody contradictions. The beautiful soul behaves

justice of the peace thrown on to a field of battle, one who sees ill

inexpiable struggles only simple "differends" or perhaps

":,��::

standings' (DR 52). Deleuze here explicitly thematizes the

that 'Hegelians' might make: that he understands the thiokiDl difference as a later movement of the dialectic, the romantic erence for the multiplicity of all things, irreducible to the concept, condemned in advance by the concept itself which always ends claiming its rights. Deleuze cuts the objection short:

It is not enough to harden oneself and invoke the well-known cor&' piementarities between affirmation and negation, life and death. cre­ ation and destruction (as if these were sufficient to ground a dialectic of negativity) in order to throw the taste for pure differences back at the beautiful soul, and to weld the fate of real differences to that of the negative and contradiction. For such complementarities as yet leU US nothing about the relation between one term and the other. (DR 52)

Who's Afraid of Hegelian Wolws?

1 19

e These de,clarations pre:�nt o� from giving in , to. the temptatio� to dlfference-contrad lctlon or affinnatlon­ the opposition ze' cticl 'diale demonstrating the solidarity among those instances that by egalion The logic of dialectical inversion diff erentiated.' is. for Deleuze, so af{icacious only up to a point: it never takes account of its presupposi­ ons or of its origin. In putting such an inversion to work, however one can never know whether the energy it produces derives primacy attributed to negativity, or whether it is a ontological an from by_product of affinnation, since, as such. the laner is always already differentiated and differential. Does the dialectical complementarity of the tenns of an opposition proceed from an originary 'No' or from a limitless 'Yes'? That is the very question to which Hegelian philos­ ophy does not provide the answer, which in tum limits dialectical logic to a simple procedure. In the case of the adversarial dialogue between Deleuze and Hegel only an evalu anon, ' in the Nietzschean sense of the tenn, would allow us to assess the forces present and come not to a solution, or resolution, of the conflict, but to an uncovering of the network or dynamic constellation that motivates it. But the painstaking discovery of such a hierarchy - that which shows precisely the originarity of differential affirmation with respect to negativity, inasmuch as every evaluation supposes, as its condition of possibility, the play of differentiated forces - is in no way a Hegelian gesture. The dialectic indeed ignores the Nietzschean sense of genealogy. Given that, denouncing Deleuze's contradiction, claiming to reduce his antagonism towards Hegel to a manifestation of the dialectic by exposing his beautiful soul and by exploiting the evident structural binarity of cenain polemical state­ ments, would lead us nowhere. But there still remains this Hegel who appears so adequate to himself in Deleuze's texts. If the hypothetical approach that I just referred to cannot account for it or talk about it, what remains to be done? If Deleuze manages to reduce Hegelian philosophy to a unity, the solution would no doubt lie in problemacizing chis unity iuelf, in exposing its differentiated structure in other tenns. In bringing to light the fact that the unity of Deleuze's Hegel both is and isn', what ic is, one arrives at a crossing of pathways where one might encounter the real sense of the confrontation between these two philosophers. A unity that is what it is not and isn't what it is can in fact be analysed just as e�sily as an instance of the dialectic (a unity that denies itself), or as a �Ifferential force (the two possibilities being interpreted as simply J )((apOSed). I shall let this 'as easily as' be; that is to say J shall not C <>ase, The crossing of pathways just referred to is a non-criticai

rlre � cleverly,

�

120

Catherine Malabou

rro..

c�ossing, one whk h does not preside over a decisi�n, but results . , . . the relation be.. In complicatmg (Just as It causes I,t) a complicatIOn. tween Deleuze and Hegel one manages to show how the two thinker. form one against the other, or one with the other, something like 'block of becoming,' one of those heterogeneous and unnatural cor:., binations that Deleuze is wont to speak of. What then is the source of the complication? If, for Deleuze, there seems to be only olle Hegel, this unity is brought about by two P<>uilW scenan"os: reduction and exception. By unifying Hegel's philosophy in the extreme, Deleuze first of all reduces it, just as Freud reduces hill wolves. At the same time this extreme reaction amounts to an �,,,,,. tional treatment for no other philosopher meets this fate in Deleuze•• work. Therefore. Hegel is, to a certain extent, given privileged a-e.. ment; he becomes the only one. with all the negative respect one to an absolute heteron: unable to be assimilated and thus veri';"; other. When the band, or the pack, turns its back on Hegel, position comes paradoxically into relief and this becomes non of Deleuze's philosophy. The French expression 'It's a non!' refers to the appearance of something exceptional, a unexpected, or even monstrous event. My question is as follows: does not Hegel. inasmuch as he nates in the extreme a 'nomal' unity, become Deleuze's '."0'."''''' the unavoidable and indispensable 'phenomenon of bordering' packs that run in all directions through his text) ln th. : Thousand Plateaus entitled 'Becoming-Intense, : � : � : coming-Imperceptible,' Deleuze and Guattari write: 'whereve r multiplicity. you will also find an exceptional individual . . . may be no such thing as a lone wolf, but there is a leader of the a master of the pack, or else the old deposed head of the pack living alone, there is the Loner, and there is the Demon' (ATP 24� By dint of being designated in such a haunting, insistent" way. as adequate to itself, rule, or law (nomos), does not Hegel's ... ... end up by setting itself apart from those of all other philosophers, bJ exceeding them as leader of the pack or their 'anoma/ow'? The a� aJous is 'a Greek noun that has lost its adjective (and that] designatel the unequal, the coarse. the rough, the cutting edge of deterritorialir tion' (ATP 244). What if Hegel were to assure Deleuze's text certain coarseness, what if he were to take to the extreme the tern­ tories and the trees? If that were the case then the figure of Hegel would symhesize rwo fonns of unity: unity by reduction and unity by exception; a unity thai I shall call a unity by subtraction of the pack (process whereby thC

,;��:;

! �:�!���:

'>11

of �

Who's Afraid of Hegelian Wolws?

121

(

'olves reduce to a single wolO, and a unity by secrelon i of the pack ppearance of the exceptional individual on the edge of excessiveness a bord de dibordement]) , Oeleuze reduces Hegelian multiplicity 'comme by subtraction and makes Hegel appear as his outsider. The problem is then to know why Deleuze never recognizes Hegel as his white whale. leaving to the reader the task of recognizing in his relentless opposition to the dialectic the impassioned limping of a Captain Ahab. ThiS non-recognition might also take on the value of a symptom that readers, as ad hoc psychoanalysts. would take it upon themselves to interpret. What Hegel would thus be the symptom of, in incarnating both unities at once. is perhaps the impossibility of maintaining their difference right to the end, of keeping the 'lone wolr apart from the 'leader of tbe pack'. Perhaps the wolf and the anomalous would in this way revert to the same thing. I shall let Hegel be the judge of that. proposing a confrontation between a Oeleuze visited by Hegel. and a Hegel revisited by De1euze. Such an enterprise involves bringing Hegel into the field of the pack. which offers the advantage of deterritorializing the expected place of debate, and interrogating, on an uncharted terrain. the old concepts of unity, system, becoming and teleology. Unity by subtraction and unity by exception do not seem, at first glance, to have anything to do with one another, Their two economies are reflected in A Thousand Plateaus as two contrasting, even contrary move­ ments. The fint, you will remember. is elaborated in the chapter entitled 'One or Several Wolves?' the second in 'Becoming-Intense, Becoming­ Animal, Becoming-Imperceptible.' The development of the second relies On various examples. the most striking being the film Willard by Daniel Mann, whose subtitle might be the 'Rat-Man; and Moby Dick. What brings about the essential difference ofthese two economies is the conception of becoming that underwrites them. In the first case (Freud's assimilation of the pack of hallucinatory wolves to the single gure of the father), becoming is assigned to a teleology, with unity as Its result. In the second ('Captain Ahab has an irresistible becoming­ hale', ATP 243), becoming is 'adestinal', in that the exceptional IOdividual does not result from it but forms its border. Teleological becoming is conceived of as a 'tension towards'; it is necessarily oriented or destined. Even if Deleuze and Guanari do not ake this explicit. it is clear that for them Freud inherits this concep­ of becoming from a whole philosophical tradition represented above all by Hegel, a tradition that thinks the fundamental articulation becoming and of the telos. Becoming. Hegel explains in the Science

�

�

� tiOn

of

122

Catherine Malabou

of Logi<-, is at the same time the end (Enik) of becoming: the

becoming is its own cessation. Hegel affirms that 'there is no ,,,, .. . which is not an intermediate state between being and nothing',6 this intermediary statc, this middle (milieu] cannot be sustained. tends towards rest or stasis, that is to say towards the formation 'being-there,' a determinate individual that achieves, through the position of its ontological configuration, the indefinite m"v"m'... the inversion ofpure being and pure nothingness onc within the 'Becoming is an unstable unrest which seldes into a stable result'

.

haltunglou Unruhe, die in ein ruhiges ResulUll zusammensinkt') (SL Conceived of in this manner. becoming follows the pri,tciple o(;�.... uation: being and nothingness are finally synthesized in a This dialectic of becoming, which is exposed in all purity in the Science of wgic, pertains to the fundamental inspires the whole Hegelian system: the process of the genus which commands the principle of individuation. The genus,

abstract of the species or essence, has its particular form in

individuals which, in dying, dissolve and so return to generic

:���=

sality. It is in the movement from genus to genus that the telOi becoming is accomplished: pure being-pure nothingness, b (individual), effective universality (dialectical synthesis of and genus).

Let us examine in this light the becoming of the animal such .. elaborated in the Philosophy of Nature, the second volume of

Encyclopedia of the Philosophical Sciences. The vital movement of individual animal, the tension that assures its vitality, comes

a plenitude but from a lack. In fact, the animal is sensitive to incommensurable separation between its individuality and the

belongs to, a separation which is paradoxically experienced OIl

�

basis of the very unity of the individual and the genus: 'This rella' ship is a process which begins with a med; for the individual as a does not accord with the genus immanent in it, and yet at the time is the identical self-relation of the genus in one unity; it thut the feeling of this defect (er hal so das Ge/Uhl dieses Mange/s).'1

becoming of the animal is motivated by a double tension: the

(Tn eb) · of the genus within it, acting like an n i stinct for

tion (feeling of unity with the genus), and the lack of the genuS it (feeling of a defect on the pan of the individual, limited to being-there, with respect to the unlimited power of the genU5; individual's incapacity to constitute a genus all by itself). The becoming of such a becoming is accomplished in sexual

duction. in copulation with another animal that leads to the birth

Who's Afraid of Hegelian Wolves?

123

vidual or being-there: 'The genus is therefore present in the eoN indi

? dividual as a straining against the inadequacy of its single actuality,

III the urge to obtain its self-feeling in the other of its genus, to S

�I tegrate

itself through union with it and through this mediation to

�ose the genus with itself and bring it into existence - copulation' (PN � J I). At the same time this attempt to dispense with the tension that

from its genus only serves to accentuate that separation separates it and precipitate the individual towards death, that is to say towards a

return to the anonymity of the genus: 'The genus preserves itself only through the destruction of the individuals who, in the process of generation, fulfil their destiny and . . . in this process meet their death'

(PN 414). These reminders are intended t o shed light on the attachment of freudian psychoanalysis, as interpreted by Deleuze, to the philosophi­ cal tradition, notably to the thinking of Hegel. One can see that for the latter

the other of the animal is still an animal. At first sight there is no

pack, just a couple. That is to say the other of the animal united with

an animal is still an animal: the offspring. One can see that when becoming is subordinated to the logic of the genus in this way, it remains inseparable from the destiny of the family. Yet it is precisely the family that, according to Deleuze and Guattari, remains the nonn for Freudian psychoanalysis. The axiomatic of the family is the guiding force in the analysis of the Wolf-Man and it presides over the process of reduction to a unity by Subtraction of the pack. Linle by little Freud redirects the errant

wolves along the sure path of generic union, thus guaranteeing the role of the parents and the sound functioning of the reproductive process.

A passage from A Thousand Plateaus is worth citing in full, for it describes most precisely this process of subtraction: With false scruples he [Freud) asks, How are we to explain the fact that there are five, six, or seven wolves in this dream? . . . The wolves will have to be purged of their multiplicity. This operation is accom­ plished by associating the dream with the tale, 'The Wolf and the Seven Kid-Goats' (only six of which are eaten). We witness Freud's reductive glee; we literally see multiplicity leave the wolves to take the shape of goats that have absolutely nothing to do with the story. Seven wolves that afe only kid-goats. Six wolves: the seventh goat (the Wolf-Man himself) is hiding in the clock. Five wolves: he may have seen his parents make love at five o'clock, and the Roman numeral V is associated with th� erotic spreading of a woman's legs. Three wolves: me parents may have made love three times. Two wolves: the first coupling the child may have seen was the twO parents more!erarum, or perhaps even

124

Calherine Malabou

twO dogs. One wolf: the wolf is the father. as we all knew from the stan. Zero wolves: he 10S1 his tail. he is not just a castrator but also castrated. (ATP 28)

Does this passage from ont to zero not correspond to the p",.. .. . whereby Hegel's individual, in coupling, tends towards death, that It to say towards generic undifferentiation? If, in Freud, the (eelina 01 insufficiency is not a fact of consciousness but the very manifestltioa of the unconscious, it still remains a sentiment, or a fear of an u ' . ...... , ciency to the extent that castration can continue to be read as a Iac:Ir. the phantasmatie inscription within the individual of a generic defect. In this sense Deleuze and Guanari are able [0 hold that the F"..." o unconscious indeed retains rar too much consciousness of irs n 'Castration: they write, 'lack, substitution: a tale told by an scious idiot who has no understanding of multiplicities as f4 of the unconscious' (ATP 32). The process of reduction to a unity by subtraction of the pack organized, as we have seen, according to the logic, revealed by of the becoming of the animal. According to Deleuze and this concerns more consciousness than the animal itself, and i on becoming a categorial movement that doesn't belong to it. becoming of the animal as traditionally interpreted they substitute concept of the 'becoming-animal'. Such a concept must b if we are to analyse the process of unity by exception, by the pack, a process that allows one to 'escape the abstract between the multiple and the one, to escape dialectics, to conceiving the multiple in the pure state, to cease treating it numerical fragment of a lost Unity or Totality or as the element of a Unity or Totality yet to come, and instead di,ti,..1IiII between different types of multiplicity' (ATP 32). The Wolf-Man cries out his anguish, that of the becoming-wolf, Freud is powerless to comprehend the phenomenon and so to reinstall him within the becoming of the wolf: . species/genus. In the becoming-wolf of the Wolf-Man Freud only 'I am transforming myself into a wolf,' 'I am in the becoming a wolf.' But Deleuze and Guanari show that the b animal does not amount to becoming an animal; real becoming not correspond to that traditional definition, namely a mediation the way to an end or predetermined production. Becoming does DOl

��:::

0.:::

f�;��i

�;:�:��. �

come to an end in the being that has become: 'the human being h, not "really" become an animal any more than the animal "rea becomes something else . . . What is real is the becoming itself,

Who's Afrad i 0/ Hegelian Wolves?

125

becoming, not the supposedly flxed terms through which that block of passes' (ATP 238). becomes ", hich understanding of becoming removes the concept from the an Such

definition of an intermediate state between being and noth­ rlegelian Becoming is not a hesitation between the abyssal venigo of ingness. form and the security of a particular incarnation. It has of absence 'neither beginning nor end, departure nor arrival, origin nor destina­ tion' (ATP 293). Becoming is a pure milieu which means that this milieu is not 'in the middle of,' is not a force that is in the process of coming into being, a movement of presentijicarion but a momentary assemblage that cannot and will not give its reason for being. At the end ofJohn Huston's film of Moby Dick Ahab is seen tied to

the whale, stretched out on its white back in a son of ecstatic crucifix­ ion. This image - let us agree to ignore for the moment Deleuze's insistence that a becoming cannot be represented - might allow us to

understand what a 'block of becoming' is, what the becoming-whale of Ahab is, something that is not to be confused with Ahab's 'becoming a whale'. The becoming-whale of Ahab begins where generic insuffi­ ciency ends. In fact Ahab finds in the whale a death which is not that of his genus, which does not lead him back, in other words, to the generic universality that he is supposed to have sprung from. The

ropes attaching him to the back of Moby Dick symbolize relations which radically differ, by their very nature, from those of the syllogism

of the species. In dying, Ahab does not try to 'put aside a feeling of insufficiency', to the extent that he does not lack the whale. He constitutes with it a block of being which subvens both filiation and reproduction. Neither the totem, the fetish, nor any discourse of metamorphosis can exhaust the complexity of such a symbiosis.

Melville'S fiction emphasizes something that is nothing other than a natural phenomenon. There are laws of nature that exceed the laws of nature to the extent that they cannot be described or classified. These

are the laws of transpon which 'cross neither the barrier of essential forms nor that of substances or subjects' (ATP 253), but exist in the middle of those forms and remain devoid of any destiny. Thus, for �xample, when a wasp lands on an orchid, 'there is a block of becom­ Ing that snaps up the wasp and the orchid, but from which no wasp­ can ever descend' (ATP 238). The wasp and the orchid are transponed one towards the other without their being-together taking any form. Their meeting is a fortuitous contagion, not a filial

orchid

on

�traCtion. 'Unnatural panicipations or nuptials,' write Oeleuze and

I

uattari, 'are the true Nature spanning the kingdoms of nature . . . hese combinations are neither genetic nor structural; they are imer-

... Catherine Malabou

126

kingdoms . . . That is the only way Nature operates - against inelt (ATP 241-2). There are alliances that no state - community at

scientists, or political entity - would recognize, communities that Do institution could assimilate. no mort than could a taxonomy or hi.. wry. It is important to distinguish two points of view concemina: tbe living: that of physiology and that of ethics, according to Spino...

definition of that term. Physiology takes as its object specific 104 general characteristics, organs and functions. Ethics on the other haIIII,

deals with the power of a body, with what a body

can do, which ... organic physics can account for. The power of a body is measured affects. According to Spinoza 'a body is defined only by a imlgirude tbttl . latitude:

in other words the sum total of the material elements bel",.. ,

;i:t:�· �::= )

ing to it under given relations of movement and rest, speed slowness (longitude); the sum total of the intensive affects.

of at a given power or degree of potential (latitude) . :to

affects and local movements, differential speeds' (ATP 260).

or 'ethology,' considers therefore the affects of a body,' the WI� iI

'�::�

which they can combine with the affects of another body 'either exchange actions and passions with it or to join with it in c� more powerful body' (ATP 257). The degree of n i tensity the panicularity of their relations

[agencemenu]

f.. . can engender dil

ces among individuals of the same genus which are greater thaa.

between one genus and another: 'A racehorse is more different

",iaII

workhorse than a workhorse is from an ox' (ATP 257). E,b allows one to take account of what cannot be calculated in

beings. Whether a horse becomes a racehorse or a workhorse it included in its genus; n i this sense the becoming-animal is

unexpecud in a ge,lUS.

Blocks of becoming formed by the .

composition of the affects of two bodies represent an

�;:�� ;�� �

sort of ontological jazz. The logic of relations between the and generic essence are completely incapable of e

n

i Deleuze and Guattari measure this power or capacity

tion in molecules, or in panicles. Their 'jackal-panicles'

,!

"; i .pn

have nothing to do with the jackal-being - form, colour, meaDS reproduction, cry, etc. - but with what the jackal can do. One will that what the jackal ca n ' do, precisely, is be of such a colour, reproduce. That is true but the quality of its colour, the conditi01l its fur, etc., depend on unexpected encounters - always individ

�

unable to be generalized - that the animal has with its milieu and \\'lib other animals, An assemblage with other bodies takes place alotJI •

line of flight through which a body escapes from itself, from its forA

Who's Afraid of Hegelian Wolves?

127

momentarily from its destination. Thus wasp particles, within the

�dsp�orchid block, are molecules of energy unleashed from the wasp­ sort of exudation 0: a su�iect that becomes suspended from �eing,inaorder to fonn a relation With another by means of an arrange­ 'tSelf renders both to some extent unrecognizable, This excess of �enl thatct by means of which it becomes desubjectivized, entering a

the subje

ns without reproducing and creating something new with­ intO relatio eating, is indeed a possibility which becomes part of the out procr power to act and which has the same validity as its specific mal's ani characteristics. Assemblages of affects are conceived of in teons of film montage: the animal puts together the sequences of its life, developing veritable 'cutS' of becoming or energy 'shortcuts.' Ethology is thus the science of animal cinema. The concept of the 'pack' in A Thousand Plateaus needs to be understood on the basis of potentialities belonging to affects. The pack is in the first place an intense mass, a molecular swelling. Affects,

like animals, act in 'schools, bands, herds, populations' (ATP 241), multiplicities that are irreducible to unities. to the comforting figure of a familiar or familial animal, to something representing drives, or parents, A pack 'doesn't represent anything,' it is affect 'in itself, the drive in person' (ATP

259);

its energy is libidinal energy itself, for­

ming 'at any given moment a single machinic assemblage, the faceless figure of the libido' (ATP 36). By ignoring that 'wolves travel in pairs' and especially in packs, and by being overconsc(ient)ious. Freud, according to Deleuze and Guattari, lacks that very energy. We have reached the point where it is possible to grasp the import­ ant difference between the becoming of the animal and the becoming­

animal. The question now is to know what determines the type of pack., the particularities of Qne with respect to another, given that the class­ fy i ing principles of genus and species have been discounted. At this point the exceptional individuality or anomaly comes into play, lead­

ing us back to the difference between unity by subtraction of the pack and unity by secretion of the pack. 'Every animal has its anomalous. Let us clarify that: every animal up in its pack or multiplicity has its anomalous' (ATP 243). The anomalous or exceptional individual runs alongside the pa'ck, thus

s....ept .

�etermining its type: 'no band is without this phenomenon of borde­ nng, or the anomalous' (ATP

246). Unity appears here through the figure of the 'leader of the pack', one who is privileged and cursed at �e same time. So, for example, Willard in the film of the same name, his favorite, the rat Ben, and only becomes-rat through his rela­ hOn .....ith him, in a kind of alliance of love, then of hate' (ATP 243).

?as

128

Catherint Malabou

partena flCl) What is a border? It is a line that establishes inclusion [ap Deleuze and Guanari take as an example the swarm of mosqui analysed by Rene Thorn in his Structural Stability and Morphol�

�

In this swann or pack 'each individual moves randomly unless it see. the rest (of the swarm] in the same half-space; men it hurrie. to

re-enter the group. Thus stability is assured in catastrophe by • barrier. ·9 The anomalous fixes the line beyond which the pack ee....

[0 exist or beyond which its type changes. The border is 'the envelop..

iog line or farthest dimension, as a function of which it is possible lID count the others, all those lines or dimensions that constitute the PIdI at a given moment (beyond the borderline. the multiplicity chantel

nature)' (ATP 245). The word 'nature' should not be misunderstood. In fact the border couldn't be less natural, to the extent that the anomalous is not '1be bearer of a species presenting specific or generic characteristics

u. tho.':4

purest state; nor is it a model or unique specimen; nor is it perfection of a type incarnate; nor is it the eminent term of II

nor is it the basis of an absolutely harmonious correspondence'

244). The phenomenon of a pack's border is not its most

sentative element or its most highly developed specimen. The ..!ill" uals forming a pack have no generic or specific community cannot, from this point of view, become the object of a

[�:::

Moreover a multiplicity is not defined by the elements or c

composing it, but rather by the arrangements of affects thllt it

Given that, the anomalous carries only affects; it is not. as sucJt.

subjectivity, an offspring, a child; perhaps it does not even hllve • It occurs in the pack like an excess, a secretion, overflowinl confines yet enveloping it.

The anomalous borders the pack in several ways. Its position caDDGI even be fixed once and for all. 'The exceptional individual,' Deleuze and Guattari, 'has many possible positions' (ATP 243). sometimes borders as the 'head of the band' (in a hierarchical

poIi­

tion), sometimes as the 'Loner on the sidelines of the pack' (it m.

becomes the 'edge' of the pack and does not really seem to be affec;:ted, by it, like Moby Dick in relation to the other whales). Its role is 10 mark out the end of a series and the imperceptible move to anotbel'

SS:

possible series. like the eye of a needle of affects. the poi�t of �a by means of which one motif is stitched to another, as ID Mic�a . lPiai drawings where the order of the streaks changes serially, determ DO the hallucinatory becoming of simple pencil strokes. There is. Df mauo logical order to these linkages, these passages, these transfor from one border to another, from one multiplicity to another.

Who's Afraid 0/ Hegelian Wolves?

129

The becoming-animal bordered by its anomaly is thus absolutely different from the becoming of the animal, oriented as the latter is reproduction, tending towards the stasis of the being that tOwards has become, obeying the rule of the multiple in the reassuring figure of !he one. As one can see the anomalous is not one, child or father; it does not teleologically accomplish the movement of an individ­ oal life. Its figure and function are unpredictable, its position un­ i a merely temporary localizable; it is restricted to stabilizing the pack n manner, directing without any logic transformations or local and of multiplicities: the exceptional individual is but a line of ages link flight. Let us now come back to the Hegel whose thinking is not supposed to take account of becoming in any real sense, any more than it does the phenomenon of the exceptional individual. Let us return to him who, it seems, has never encountered the pack. At this point in the discus­ sion can he have anything to say? Precisely this, as I suggested earlier: that unity by subtraction and unity by exception compose one with the other in a fundamental manner; that in trying to think one without the other, in trying to insist on the second as the truth concerning the pack, one overlooks the pack at the very point where one claims to be following it. As a result the pack reassembles, in spite of itself, in the most traditional figure of unity there is: it becomes God. We have seen that becoming-animal has no foreseeable end. Its operation is ateleological and for this reason it subverts knowledge and calculation. The pack can self-destruct; it can also constitute 'a new borderline, an active line that will bring other becomings' (ATP 251). Deleuze and Guattari make it clear that 'no one, not even God, can say in advance whether two borderlines will string together or form a fiber, whether a given multiplicity will or will not cross over into another' (ATP 250). The becoming of the pack is unpredictable; it belongs to the order of the secret. If. at the beginning of this essay I characterized unity by exception as unity by secren'on, it was already in Order to allude to the 'secret as secretion' (ATP 287). In view of all that, does not conceiving of becoming as something Unassignable, as resisting all anticipation including the divine, amount to POsiting this becoming as more divine than God himself? In not \I,1anting to i'lScn'be an end upon becoming, does one not make it J)Qtentially infinite, a potential 'perhaps' that keeps its actualization in reserve like the suspension of grace? A pack that can end can also not end. Negativity always returns to haunt the process that thought it was

130

Catherine Malabou

exempt from it or could ignore it, and that process inevitably transformed, for Hegel, into a bad infinite, a spurious infinity. Ac,c ing to Deleuze the pack is not aware ofthe negative. Let me take example the following sentence: 'Physicists say that holes are not absence of panicles but particles traveling faster than the speed light. Flying anuses, speeding vaginas, there is no castration' 32); or again: 'Even the failures are part of the plane' (ATP Deleuze doesn't want to let anything get by and from this point -.�" "" a hole is no more negative than a wolf. We thus find again his to recognize lack as the driving force behind becoming. Hegel reply that a pack that lacks nothing ceases to exist as a pack, to extent that it is impossible [0 conceive of a pack without hunger, an end of some sort. The pack is necessarily involved ia. chase, it includes its sick. its mangy, its Lumpenproletariat, elementary figure is in reality nothing other than the family, 'h," from which all life proceeds. It is teleology which, paradoxically, inscribes fatigue within ference, the dialectic that gives to the pack the necessary down [usure) of its being. Depriving becoming of any immanent amounts to limiting it from outside as Hegel argues in the DC)C1JriDl Being,IO and one can consider that the anomalous, whose does not correspond to any logical or teleological necessity, assures the pack of its end and imposes a check [anit) and a limb: its 'perhaps' or the potentiality of its being [Ie peut-etre] with violence Freud resorts to in reducing the wolves to a unity. E•.cel� becomes as repressive as subtraction. What remains therefore, in the light of what I have just said, is attempt to sketch out Hegel's thinking concerning the pack. there is nothing in his work on the pack as multiplicity or group animals; still it is possible to uncover a conception of the pack OIl level of a single animal - as if the latter were of itself a horde. In respect can we say this is so? Inasmuch as the organism caD analysed as a flux of intensity or intensities of energy. A sustained and attentive reading of Hegelian thought the animal shows, unlike what I elaborated in the first part of essay, not an opposition but an astonishing proximity to that

Ooi:

,,_;;

CO,",,""i"!I

Deleuze. I hope to demonstrate that in both authors there is a matic of animal habit that appears as an eco"omy o/multiplicity. CI,oa,"1f> in Hegel, habit is completely tied to a teleology and the logic genus; but it would now be possible to show that teleology, rar suspending the economy of multiplicity, instead brings it about" be important to see how teleology as conceived of by Hegel nh"'"

Who's Afraid of Hegelian WoJws?

131

rocess of production of unity that i s neither subtraction nor excep­ but a wearing down of the pack. Let us investigate the question of animal habit. It may be noted in this regard that I am reading Hegel from the point of view of Difference tJtld Repetition, but what I read there, starting from Delc�uze's presup­ positions, leads me in fUm to respond to Deleuze concerning Hegel. I shall begin by recalling Deleuze's analysis of the fundamental role played by habit within the living being. He refers in that context to the Aristotelian conception of the living as composed of small animals:

�on.

A soul must be attributed to the hean. to the muscles, nerves and cells,

but a contemplative soul whose entire function is to contract a habit.

This is no mystical or barbarous hypothesis. On the contrary, habit here manifests its

full

generality: it concerns not only the sensory-motor

habits that we have (psychologically), but also, before these, the primary habits that we arc; the thousands of passive syntheses of which we

are

organically composed. It is simultaneously through contraction that we

afe habits, but through contemplation that we contract. (DR 74)

The precise question is this: how is it possible to read contraction and contemplation as well as their relation, and moreover, how should one interpret the precession of contemplation over contraction such as the syntax - 'but through' - suggests? It would be necessary to substitute proceed for precede. as we are invited to do in terms of the following statement: 'We do not contemplate ourselves, but we exist only in contemplating - that is to say. in contracting that from which we come' (DR 74). We can consider that in Deleuze's analysis there is a starting 'situation'. described in these terms: 'We are made of con­ tracted water, earth. light and air - not merely prior to the recognition or representation of these, but prior to their being sensed' (DR 73). A beginning in the inorganic. starting from the inorganic and from the four elements. by a process of contraction. As the living being gets more complex it increases the number, mass and quality of its contrac­ liolls in the triple sense of passive and acl£w structuration, of a permanent aplitudejor acquisition, and a multiplying reducn·on. This triple process makes possible the ethological assemblage of affects that I analysed earlier. In fact it is habit that allows the individ­ ual to become singularized. a genus all to itself. Habit draws the dIviding line between the racehorse and the workhorse. The exercise that is inherent in the functioning of habit binds vital energy: 'An animal forms an eye for itself by causing scattered and diffuse lumin­ �us excitations to be reproduced on a privileged surface of its body. me eye binds light, it is itself a bound light' (DR 96). The activity that

132

Catherine Malabou

involves binding difference(s) 1 I (here, the activity of perceptioQ lig t) is double. On the. on� hand it means cont�mplation: it is only " , seemg. and thus by subJecting oneself to the action of the sensible, tbit vision is achieved. On the other hand it means action: it is in fact the same process of subjection, paradoxically, that the eye is f",,,,,,

�

..

and exercises iuclf: 'The eye . . . contemplat[esl the excitation that . binds. It produces itself or "draws itself" from what it c n rrpl... ; l (and from what it contracts and invests by contemplation) ' .

?: ��

The arrangement or composition of affects presupposes habit law of reversibility of energies, the reciprocal mutability of P"uiOior and activity. The continuity or repetition of a change modifies _ respect to that very cbange - the disposition of the being. What

��::..:

place in tenns of habit is a reduction in receptivity and an increase spontaneity. The progressive development of an internal .� : plains the progressive decrease in passivity. Actions that are

over and over reach a higher and higher level of sufficiency and being familiarizes itself with their circumstances. As a result appears at the same time as what disciplines the pack and what from affect. One is struck by the fact that, in the Philosophy oj Nature,

develops a problematic of habit that is very close to that of 0,1...... II

his work a conception of the organism as energized horde eKiltl conjunction with the logic of the process of the genus.

The organism is made of the same maun'als, the very

materials

inorganic, which are at one and the same time conlrfuttd. The living thing, as I shall establish by following Hegel's analyses, is reduction and a condensation of the elements of its milieu: water, nitrogen and carbon molecules. In the fll'St place habit signifies

�

�:

power of contraction. The result of such a contraction actuall.Y the habitus, that is to say the internal disposition and general co · tion of the organism. Hegel calls the dialectical relation - that identity and difference - between the inorganic components of

milieu and those of the organism, a 'theoretical' process. This

in turn to observe that every mechanism of adaptation of the thing is already itself a type of rheorei", according to the double sense that lenn developed by Aristotle, namely contemplation and exerci.e·

In fact Hegel also shows how the living organism contracts witbiD l itself the very things it derives from: inert maner, elements, chemica processes, etc., all the constitutive moments that are dialecticaU1 linked in the Philosophy oj Nature. In the 1805-6 text, Hegel writet: 'The general animal organism is the reconstruction of physical

�IC'"

ments in a single ensemble (zu EinzeinenJ. ' IZ The organism is a habltflS

W'ho's Afrad i of Hegelian Wolws?

133

respect of the internal disposition of its organs, a synthesis of the An ani­ he remember, is a synthesis of air, water, light, carbon, must we al .

111terogeneous multiplicity of elements constituting the body.

that is to say of particles of energy that assure the :tr�gen, etc., . the organism.

fluidi ty of . . . Contraction and the fonnatton of the habllus are closely hnked. In al, this relation already appears as subjectivity. In the e"cyclo­ the anim n of the Philosophy of Nature Hegel states that 'the animal versio a pedi

organism is the reduction of inorganic nature, sundered into separate moments, into the infinite unity of subjectivity' ('die Reduktion der

aussereinander ge/allenen unorganischen Natur in die u"endliche Einheit der Subjektiflittit') (PN 382). Failing an equivalent usage of the concept of contraction in Gennan,ll one finds in Hegel the more powerful

concept of 'idealization,' referring back to Deleuze's analysis of habit as contemplation, that is to say as a theoretical process. I shall quote from paragraph 350 of the Philosophy of Nature: 'The organic individ­

uality exists as subjeGtiflity in so far as the externality proper to shape is into members, and the organism in its process outwards dealized i

preserves inwardly the unity of the seIr (PN 351). Hegel's sense of idealization, referring as it does to the process of conservation and suppression, appears at the same time as a process of condensation and of synthesis, what he also calls an 'abstraction'. As we have seen, habit presumes that change can be preserved and leave a trace. The fact that the repetition of changes produces a difference in the subject experiencing it, means that change coming from the exterior is gradually transformed into a change coming from within the organism itself, involving the body in the becoming of its singularity. Impressions lose their force as they reproduce. Hegel n i sists on this point in paragraph 4 1 0 of the Philosophy ofMi"d. Under the effect of habit, he writes, 'the immediate feeling is negated and treated as indifferent. One gets inured against external sensations (frost, heat, weariness of the limbs, etc., sweet tastes, etc.) . . . There is indif­ ference towards the satisfaction: the desires and impulses are by the

habit of their satisfaction deadened. >14 Paradoxically, a decrease in

�ensitivity excites spontaneity. What to begin with was simply sub­ �cted to in a passive way, comes, through the action of repetition, to ,

n lttate movement and so to develop a new arrangement, a new organic becomin g. It needs to be understood that in Hegel, and this is what interests me ove all, this becomi"g underwrites the becoming that is inherent in e process of the genus. In limiting his thought concerning becoming "

�

134 to generic becoming, one loses sight of this most imponant namely that for him the latter is always lacking, always a failure.

;

Hegel the animal experiences the fundamental failure aCthe b.... ... of the animal. It is true, as we have seen, that the 'feeling of defect' revealed in the animal as a tendency to copulate. But we have also that the process of procreation (Forrpj1anzu"g) comes, in the analysis, simply to be that of the bad infinite (schlechu The animal

cannot

U,,,ndlidd!oiG

fully present the genus. It cannot set up its

larity as a universal and erase the disproportion between them. But only habit allows the animal to dispense with the bad

infini1e

copulation. Habit is what makes death possible by progressively

the affective possibilities whose creation it has ncvenheless .o,ntrib.. to. Bit by bit the body as habitus, as singular individual witbia.

energized horde, ossifies, tires out utterly. In paragraph

375

Philosophy ofNature Hegel writes that 'the individual [."inoal] only an abstract objeCliwty in which its activity has become d.:od. and ossified and the process of life has become the inertia of"h.zbi�1 in this way that the animal brings about its own destruction'

(PN

By means of its double and contradictory functions, yj'taiizU.. .

thanatological, habit in Hegel traces a path within the telos. It ens vitality to the extent that it contracts affects. It dulls it as it sharpens it. This double play of the slice of lifeL5 is Hegel as the dialectical logic of abbreviation. In his work not systematically and violently reduced to a unity, it itself, and abbreviation is the necessary wearing out that pack, holds it in check, suspends its infinite becoming.

Abbreviation - and not unity by subtraction - is the Sensl

dialectic and the law of thinking. What I have JUSt concerning the animal is upheld by the Hegelian

;���:;::

thought as acceleration, shortcutting, wearing down [usu,.,] of qualitative intensity of its object. Understanding proceeds

reduction that the Science of Logic describes as follows: 'The standing does indeed give them [the determinations of thought],

speak, a rigidity (Hartl) of being such as they do not possess in qualitative sphere and in the sphere of reflection; but at the same it breathes life (begeistet) into them and so sharpens them.'I' It them the form of 'points.' How should one understand Hegel's idity'? In several senses. 'The rigidity of being' could first of all to 'the consistence (Hait) of being, ' at the same time firmness, quenee and resistance (with respect to time, for example, greater the resistance of the phenomenon in general). This rigidity is dialectical emergence of a quality by means of a reductio" of the

Who's Afraid oj Hegelian Wolws�

135

i the detennina­ omenal qualifier. I t follows that there is a hardness n

that of the heart, since the effect produced by the �on of thought, can be infinitely less 'sensitive' than the affect produced by

concept nomenon. In fact, the subject is implicated to a much lesser the phe it comes into relation with the 'point' of determinateness, when ree deg when in contact with the practically innumerable trailS of the is it n tha

phenomenon. Paradoxically the pricking that the 'point' effects can leave the tissue insensitive. But on another level the point allows one to follow the phenomenon right to the end, to accomplish it in a sense. Of course that also means that it is put to death in its concept.

Hardness and pointing evoke at the same time the abrupt and the punctual [point], that is to say the �cision by which inversion occurs, that is to say the 'point it stans from'. What becomes of the 'breath of life' ,'animation') with respect to the hardness and pointing that refer

precisely to an absence of soul, if not of mind, even an absence of heart? This breath of life or inspiration is the very 'soul' of the relation

that is summed up in the concept. The totality of inspirations bound to the phenomenal are found to be at the same time abstract, reassem­

bled, related and unified by the concept. The Jormalizing reduction of speculative content, its logical writing, paradoxically confer on the

being that is deprived of its singularities a type of singularity par

chkeit). excellence that is its 'characteristic' (Eigentamli

Unity by abbreviation appears as the median way between unity by Subtraction and unity by exception. The points of being are not subtracted from themselves. They remain potentially rich in qualita­ tive multiplicity and intensity. None of them plays the role of the Anomal either, none borders the other. To put it another way, each is, if you wish, the anomaly of the other, its possibility and its incompossi­ bility. Its consequence and its flight [sa suite el sa Juite) .

Wolves travel in packs. They leave their footprints in the snow, their Wolf lines. But these imprints get smaller and smalier, they get abbre­ viated. Why do Deleuze and Guanari speak of 'small' holes without analysing this smallness, this logic of reduction that bas neither father outsider? Hegel answers back 'little wolves' to those who call him a 'big dog'. Without these Iinle wolves the pack. would not wear out Ise

nOr

fatigue] ; becoming, even though unpredictable, gets reversed, para­

dOXically, as constancy, hard-wearing presence, substance. The rhi­ k.,
I nave tried to read Deleuze's relation to Hegel as symptomatic. This amOunts to showing that Hegel appears in Deleuze's text as a symp-

136

Cathen'ne Malabou

,::::

tom, for he plays the double role of the accursed exceptional although that double role is never made explicit in its own

According to my hypothesis, ifthat is so it is because a strict dernar ea. tion between the two unities (by subtraction and by exception) Ie impossible to determine, in spite of what Deleuze and Guattari '.y.

In attempting to bring this configuration to light I have maclti...., [machiner] an unusual relation between Hegel and Deleuze. I have

constructed a machine, a block of becoming called Hegel.Deleuze, ..

unexpected yet plausible as that of the wasp and orchid, a p14UDU, Let me recall what a plateau is according to the authors of A Thouso.tI

Plateaus: 'We call a "plateau" any multiplicity connected to other multiplicities by superficial underground stems in such a way _ lilt

form or extend a rhizome' (ATP 22). Constructing a plateau benreea

difference and the dialectic allows me to render more fluid an oppGI&. tion that has doubtless been made too rigid as a result of a bias •

favour of a reduction of the reducrion which risks bringing about effeca

contrary to those tha[ are sought. It seems to me that such is the c-. with Hegel. Doing justice to Deleuze's finely wrought thinkinl COD­ cerning affirmation implies, in my opinion, affirming Hegel's role in il.: translated by David ....

ABBREVIATIONS The following book abbreviations arc used: ATP: Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guauari, A Thousand PlauaUJ, l\lassumi, Minneapolis: Univenity of Minnesota Press, 1987.

tranI.

8riIa

DR: Gilles Deleuze, Dijfertrlct and Repetition, trans. Paul Pauon, New VOIle Columbia University Press, 1994. NPh: Gilles Deleuze, Nierzsche and Philosophy, uans. Hugh Tomlinson, N_ York: Columbia University Press, 1'983. PN: G. W. F. Hegel, Hegel's Philosophy 0/ Nature, traos. A. V. Miller, OxfOfd:: Clarendon Press, 1970. SL: G. W. F. Hegel, Hegel's Science 0/ Logie, trans. A. V. Miller. AtbiaDc Highlllnds, New Jersey: Humanities Press International, 1969.

i Philosophy?, trans. HuP WP: Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guanari, What s Tomlinson and Graham Burchell, New York: Columbia University PretIt 1994.

W'ho's Afraid of Hegelian Wolves?

137

NOTES

2

Cf. : '[with Freud) the wolves never had a chance to get away and save their pack' (ATP 28). Descartes is the object of the same aversion as Hegel: 'I could not stand Descanes, the dualisms and the cogito, or Hegel, the triad and the operation of the negation.' Gilles Oeleuze and Claire Pamet,

Dialogues,

trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, New York: Columbia J

University Press,

1987, p. 14.

For the ass and ox, see especially OR 53. For the camel, see in particular

180-3. Thus Spake Zarathllstra. Friedrich Nietzsche, The Complete Works 0/ Fn'tdrich Nittzscht, vol. XI. Ed. Oscar Levy, New York: Russell and Russell, 1964, pp. 95-8. 5 Consider this statement from Nittzscht and Philosophy: 'Nietzsche's "yes"

4

the anal}"is of the 'three metamorphoses' in NPh Cf. especially 'The Child with the Mirror' in

is opposed to the dialectical uno"; affirmation to dialectical negation;

difference to dialectical contradiction; joy, enjoyment to dialectical la· bour; lightness, dance, to dialectical heaviness; beautiful irresponsibility to

dialectical

[trans.)).

It

responsibilities'

(NPh

9,

translation

modified,

OW

is clear that in this form the statemem itself invites one to

'harden' the oppositions, given its binary structure. 6 7 8

9

10 II

12

105. See also G. W. F. Hegel, Guammelu Werkt, vol. I I (Wimnscha/r dtr Logi/c), Hamburg: Felix Meiner, 1978. PN 4 1 1 . See also Hegel, Gtsa",,,,tltt Wtr.h, vol. 20 (Enzyklopadi t dtr Philosophschtn i Wimnscha/ten im G ru n dn sse ' /1830]), Hamburg: Felix Meiner, 1992. SL

See, in this volume, Moira Gatens' essay. Rene Thorn,

Slrucrura/ Stability and Morphogenesis. trans. D. H. 1975, 319. Cited

Reading, MA: Benjamin Fowler/Cummings,

245.

Sl. See Book One; section I, chapter

Fowler, in ATP

2, part 3.

The German noun VtrlJindung has exactly the same sense as the liaison I to here. I am here translating the German text. Cf. Hegel,

am referring

Gesammelu Werke, Vol. 8 (Jet/ae, SysumentwQr/e Ill: Nall�rphilosophu und Philosophie des GeiJles), Hamburg: Felix Meiner, 1987. p. 148: 'Der animaliJcht allgemeine Organ· Jrnuf i S i f dit RekomtruJuion der Physischtn Eltmtnull zu Einztlntn.' I render zu Einzelntn as un toUI sillgulitr. literally it means 'in a single (thing) only' (ttl un seu/), where the adjective Stu! becomes a noun. Other passages Suggest the same sense, for example: 'Hier btginnt der innert Organisnllu; er iJt die Einheit des mtchanisch Organi schen utld des chemisch o,ga (. It is here that the n i ner organism begins; it is the unity of the

(155); or again: 'D" ,all", ist ditst Rackkthr du StlbSf aus seine' komtforis(hen,

Organic and the chemical organic')

.",j�

138

13

14 15

16

Cathen'ne Malabou irdischen Laufbahn zu sich Se/bst' (,The general process [or the orpni llrtl involves the return of the Self towards itself out of its stellar, lUnar IQcI terrestrial course') (161). The German verb used to render 'to contract' is zusamnunziehnr ClIo tighten, reduce, concentrate). Although one cannot say in GenIlat!. 'to contract a habit' (old usage in English) for 'to acquire a habit,' it remaa. that the sense of zusamme,,::iehen (li[C�rally '[0 con-tract,' 'to draw together') expresses perfectly the economy of the process we are anaJn. ing here. Let us also note that in German 'to make a habit or, 'to acquire a habit' is rendered by die Gewohnheit zu annehme". The expression cit Gcwoh"hl!it etwas zu tun means 'to have a habit of doing somethina'. .. GewQhnheit ablege", on the other hand, means 'to get out of, rid oneldt ct a habit.' G. W. F. Hegel, Hegel's Philosophy oj Mind, trans. William Wan.ce. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971, pp. 141-2. See also Gesamwulte W.... vol 20. In French, taille de fa vie . TaWe refers both to the size or measure ol_ and [0 that which is cut or honed out of it. The verb tailler means 'to car. slice, carve, trim, sharpen, tailor' (trans. note). SL 6 1 1 . Miller's translation, which has 'spiritually impregnates' for 0.­ man begeistel, has been modified. The latter translates intO French • anime or spiritualise (trans. note).

8

The Encounter with Spinoza -

Pierre Macherey

And even the authors about whom you have written, whether it is Hume, Spinoza. Nietzsche or Proust, or whether it is Foucault -you did not treat them as authors, that is as objects of recognition, you found in them these acts of thought without image, blind as well as blinding, these violences, these encounters, these nuptials which make them creators well before they arc authors. It can always be said thaI you were trying to pull them [Owards you. But they would scarcely let themselves be pulled. You would only meet those who had not been waiting for you to produce encounters in themselves, you claimed to extricate from the hislory of philosophy those who had not wailed for you in order to emerge. You only found creators n i those who had not waited for you in order to stop being authors . . . 1

Almost simultaneously in 1968 there appeared Gilles Deleuze's Ex­

pressimlism ill Philosophy: SpjllOZQ

and the first volume,

God,

of the

monumental study of Spinoza planned by Martial Gueroult (inter­

rupted after the publication of the second volume, The Soul, in 1974); the following year Alexandre Matberon published his Individu ec Com­

Inu"ame chez Spj1lozu.

Jointly the three books reflect the remarkable resurgence of interest in a philosopher whose work had for some time attracted only limited academic attention in France, in the period

dominated by the various 'structuralist' projects and the theoretical

antihumanism that bound them together - and one should not forget that this was also the period in which an ideological revolt spreading

frOm Germany and France came to a head, leading some to bdieve for

a While thai the era of 'bourgeois society' was coming to a definitive There is in all this something more, of course, than mere COincidence: an element of necessity, one might almost call it a logic,

CI�sc.

140

Pierre Macherey

that sub specie aecernitatis gives the whole period an essenti!l coherenc e that maintains its force even in apparent defeat, as we witness the triumph (based on a very different logic) of the reactive, essentiau, legalistic values of anti-humanism. It might all be taken as a case-stuct,

in the fate of philosophical systems - in that evolution which, beyOQd

the apparently fixed forms of their literal construction, determines the

historical frame of their reproduction by transplanting them into other contexts than that of their production, to which they mi&bl: initially have seemed straightforwardly consigned by an author', signature.

The three works cited at the outset were not only written IQd

published around the same time, sharing in the same resulting retoQ.. anee. Drawing on Spinoza, they also developed for the first time a number of linked themes relating to the ideal of systematicity aSlC)d.,

aled with a philosophy of concepts, that can with hindsight be ftIJ clearly placed and dated within the French tradition. By insistina OD.

Spinoza's Anticartesianism, they tended to make him into a radic:d critic of the illusions of subjectivity and consciousness in which contrasting Postcartesianism of French-style phenomenology

been steeped. And by formulating on the model of Spinoza's causa

rario the outlines of a novel ontology whose dimensions were at logical, physical and political, providing a synthesis of power

[p<,rnllioj

and necessity, they countered the anthropocentric fmalism of preceding period (in the fifties), that had turned on the idea

'human project' (shared paradoxically by Sartre and Teilhard. Chardin) and had sought theoretically and practically to undo",,_ the messianic promise of a new unity of meaning and history died in the mythical figure of a vast Subject, the People as God. Beyond this obvious common ground, however. one quickly no� individual features that distinguish the three contributions as distiDCt approaches. Deleuze closed his review of Gueroult's work by insistiDI that: Gueroult's admirable work is doubly important - on account of the overall method he applies, and on account of his subject. which does not simPly represent one application among others of this method, but coming after I series of studies on Descanes, Malebranche and Leibniz, amounts to iu conclusion, to its most appropriate, intricate, exhaustive exposition. 1biJ

book inaugurates the truly scientific study ofSpinozism.2

By suggesting the progress of a method proceeding scientifically ''; . ward its definitive exposition, "and by emphasizing the charactensOC: ,

The Encounter with Spinoza

141

of a conclusive encounter - Gueroult was clearly attempting 'ntncacy La that could be said about Spinoza's text, so that once he had all y sa completely there would be nothing to add - Deleuze, taken it red ove

�

all other readers by the bewildering radicality of the project aback like theoretical arguments had also confinned some essential ele­ (whose his own approach),) was setting it in its true context as the of mentS

work of a historian of philosophy, whose prime object remained that of reconstructing systems of thought in terms of their internal rational

organization (which. borrowing Descartes' expression, Guerouh called the 'order of reasons'). thereby eliminating any elements of interpretation foreign to their own specific structure, Matheron's equally important work, concentrating on Spinoza's political anthro­

pology, and thus tackling passages that had not been discussed by

Gueroult,4 also attached prime m i portance to the 'internal architec­ ture of the system', seeking to bring out a 'dominant structure' ident­ ified as 'the sephirotic tree of the Kabbala',' But by also finding in

Spinoza. through as close a study of the text as Guerouit, the outlines

of a decidedly Marxist or Marxian theory of alienation, Matheron distanced himself from the history of philosophy in its strictest form, laking a tangential approach somewhere between pure commentary and imaginative interpretation, One now begins to see the originality of Deleuze's project in Express­

ionsm i

in Philosophy,' He was

setting out like Gueroult and Matheron

to engage with the internal movement of Spinoza's thought. and this led him on various points, such as the importance to be attached to the theme of power, to conclusions close to those reached by the two historians of philosophy. But Deleuze engaged with this movement of thought by correlating it with a concern, marked by the term 'express­ ion', at first sight foreign to Spinoza's own project. To analyse Spino­ la's philosophy in terms of expression, to see it as expressive, in the sense defined by a certain conception of 'expressionism in philos­ ophy',' was clearly to introduce a new version of Spinozism that was at variance, ifnot completely at odds, with the model of demonstrative �tionality explicitly adopted by Spinoza himself.' The word 'express­ Lonism', indeed, evokes primarily the aesthetic movement deriving from the work of French and German painters at the turn of the

C�ntury, subsequently spreading n i to literature and the new art of �Inema, and emphasizing, in opposition to the subtle distribution of Impressions over a horizontal plane on which they appear to float

Weightlessly, the vehement, so-to-speak vertical force of expression revealed in the violence of utterances and gestures that present through more or less systematically organized distortions the most

Pierre Macherey

142

strident aspects of reality and life, in a climate of terror or hottor , Of sound and fury. Anaud and Bacon, for example, on both of whoa. Deleuze has worked, represent this tendency, whose prehistory IIliabt

be sought in Nietzsche, in Rimbaud or Van Gogh, who were the fir,. to promote such disorder. And one is immediately led to ask WhI t Spinoza and his project of a scientifically demonstrated ethics _

leads to the theoretical and practical union of wisdom and beatitud e, have to do with the excesses inherent in this anarchy. What are We to understand by 'expressionism in philosophy'? And how can the Pm

..

provide any adequate account of Spinoza's own enterprise?

Rereading Expressionism in Philosophy today, one might the�fote seek answers to the following questions: Why did Deleuze base bia reading of Spinoza on the notion of expression, and what role doa II:

play in his presentation of the philosopher? With this notion .. kI guiding thread, is his reading consistent with the original sense oftbe

work he purpons to analyse, or does it rather misrepresent Spinoa't philosophy, precisely by distorting it in an 'expressionistic' maDDllt More generally, how can one grasp the sense of a philosopby, .... what place does such understanding, which seems to demand specific skills of a historian of philosophy, have in the practice of philosophy?

The Idea of Expression Deleuze sets out, on the basis of a systematic concept of itself set in a historical development he traces back to the the Middle Ages and Antiquity, to reconstruct Spinoza's with its three dimensions of ontology (the theory of substance, explains how it expresses itself90 univocally in the infinite forIDI being which are its attributes), epistemology (the theory of idellt

which explains how thought adequately expresses itself9b in its oWIl

determinations, without having to be referred to any order of rea1iIJ

external to it), and finally anthropology or politics (the theory offiDiW modes, which explains how the initial expression of substance in itt attributes, by giving rise to a subsequent expression of these in modes that are singular things, provides the frame of a self_regulaooD IO that is communicated to the organization of human affects):

�

The way Spinoza understands (this theoretical and practical notion �r expression], giving it a new strucrure, lies perhaps at the heart of hd thought and his style, and is one of the secrets of the Ethics: a two-sided

The Encounler with Spinoza

143

book, with its continuous succession of propositions, demonstrations and corollaries on the one hand, and its violent, broken chain of schoHa

on the other - a doubly expressive book.

II

'The idea of expression works, then, by serving a hermeneutic role, revealing a secretj through it we are to see how the outwardly linear discourse of the Ethics actually proceeds on two different levels at once, explicitly on the level of a demonstrative rationality proclaiming itS unbroken necessary progression, and then beneath the surface, where we find the concrete realm of the affects that traverse this progression, restoring its deeper sense in an apparently disordered

(but in fact differently ordered) succession of sudden flashes, and preparing the way for the final integration of concepts and affects that becomes the dominant theme of a Spinozism understood in tenns of the concept of expression. One might on this basis consider that the concept of expression, nowhere explicit in Spinoza's text, is there between the lines, since it allows us to see the text not as a completely fixed set of ideas articu­ lated on a single level, whose sense is immediately apparent and thoroughly consistent, but as something that can be read along various different lines, indeed between the lines, on a parallel level of express­ ion, the systematic function of the concept of expression being pre­ cisely to allow such parallelism. But this conception of parallel levels is clearly problematic: by correlating an explicit sense ruled by reason and a hidden sense ruled by affects, it seems to reintroduce

an

analogi­

cal account of expression that harks back. to a transcendent viewpoint, threatening the univocity of a philosophical method taken to be uni­ formly positive - which is the guiding thread of Deleuze's reading of Spinoza - on the single and fundamental level of immanence. Thus, in order to maintain this principle of immanence, we have to give up trying to reveal, beneath the text and what it states explicitly, a hidden depth that opens up an abyss of meaning in which the internal necessity of its structure must eventually be engulfed. This does

indeed appear to be what Deleuze means by saying that the Ethics is 'a two-sided book . . . doubly expressive': expression is not some ideal order duplicated in its outward embodiment, but something whose

very embodiment has a dual aspect that gives it a specific character, that one might call its rhythm or style. And it is by thus freeing the

concept of expression from any reference to transcendence that Spino­

za, in Deleuze'S version at least, makes it his own and completely

restructures it. The movement of expression, then, as a key to reading the Ethics, is not somewhere behind the words, like something beyond

144

Pierre Macherey

their explicit meaning thal is the ultimate basis of their me � anything, a sort of causa remota or 'remote cause' - it takes lb. rather, as the words are woven together, like a 'purloined lener' 'figure in the carpet' concealed by excessive rather than inadeq

::­ UU:

display. Thus it is not as something hidden, but rather as sometbiaa manifest, visible, too visible even, that we should seek, quite Iiteratt,: I

'the form of expression'.

But it seems difficult to do this, since the idea of expression does QQt s � �uch have a central place in the text of the Ethics, appearing oaa, . does not once occur, and the mdlfcctiy. The noun expres5Io idea of expression is suggested only through the use of the verb exPnilNrt,

which occurs in various forms (expreuQ, expn"matur, expn"mere, expr;",..

rem, exprimet, exprimil, expn"munl, exprimuntur) altogether fOl'tJotil

times in the Ethics, with tWenty-two occurrences n i the flf'St pan, _

in the second, nine in the third, none in the fouM. and five in lilt fifth. I l One may therefore say that although the concept of exp� does not explicitly appear in Spinoza's text in the nominal lana

expressio, it is nevertheless at work there, as it were activated by die

verbal fonns that reflect not so much some static idea, as a scheme '" enactment that is a fundamental aspect of the very activity of apl_

ion. This in a way suppons Deleuze's thesis. He notes in his introclaoo­

tory chapter that 'the idea of expression is neither defined .. deduced by Spinoza. nor could it be',u and takes this as co'nf im � t

the concept's role as a theoretical, and also practical, operator

requIiII­

ing no further determination beyond its own internal operation. W. don't first have to consider the concept of expression on its 0WIlt though it were something independent of its implementation; ra

can we only grasp it in the movement that dynamically embodies iL SO

we have to see Spinoza's thought as not so much containing a pbi1ol­ ophy of expression, but exposing philosophy to the risk of expressioe. or constituting it as expression. And if we read of such dynamiC expressivity mainly in the first pan of the Ethics, as characterizin, rbI relation between substance and its attributes whose analysis orieall the speculative trajectory pursued throughout the book, that doetD-C

�

mean it is no longer at work once the words marking it cease to appell'

expressly or explicitly in the remaining pans. One can - and

leuze does - argue that the process remains at work in the depths the exposition, whose progress it continues to direct until tbC close. I. This is the justification for reading the Ethics in terms of the idea of expression which, impinging tangentially on the t� brings out generally overlooked aspects on which it indirectly sheds '" light.

The Encounur with Spinoza

145

One is tempted to say that the idea of expression is at once in, yet

not in the Ethics, so to speak half-present Two years after his major study absence.

in a way that points up its

Expressionism in Philosophy

appeared, Deleuze published, in a collection intended for university students, a little bookls whose contents were later filled out with new 6 material as Spinoza: Practical Philosophy. 1 In this introductory text for a non·specialist audience,

the

1968

all the analyses that had been developed in

thesis were presented anew in briefer simplified form, with­

out any mention of the theme of expression; in the glossary of major conceptS of the Ethics that constitutes the main section of the workl7 there was no entry for the tenn. How can one avoid thinking, then, that it played only a derivative role in the initial exposition, whose outline can be preserved with the tenn removed, so that

it becomes

d)ng essential to the argument's

merely a rhetorical device, a scaffol

construction, but redundant on completion? Any serious reading of

Expressionism in Philosophy,

though, reveals

that the idea of expression is not simply a son of pretext, but plays an essential, central role in the theoretical development of the argument. And it plays a threefold role, with Deleuze talking of 'a problem of expression', a 'logic of expression' and a 'path of expression'. There is a

problem

of expression. It is significant that the doctoral

thesis presented as 'The Idea of Expression in the Philosophy of Spinoza' was subsequently published as 'Spinoza and the Problem of Expression'. This shows that rather than some 'idea' that might be identified and analysed theoretically in isolation, the notion of ex­ pression defines a 'problem' that cannot be approached independently of the theoretical and practical context that situates or 'poses' the problem in the sense of 'positioning' it in a space. If one may say that Spinoza, who didn't consider the idea of expression as such (so that one might call it a sort of unconscious or 'unthought' element in his philosophy), did nevertheless confront the problem of expression. this is because the problem is at work throughout his philosophy, consti­ tuting its very unity, and thereby orienting an experience of thought

�at it directs at the deepest level as 'applied theory' or what Deleuze.

10 his little book on Spinoza, calls 'practical philosophy'. As the

conclusion of Expressionism in Philosophy reminds us, the prime busi­ ness of philosophy, which marks it out from anything else, is precisely

that of forging concepts that put in pe"pective and thereby proble­

rnatize cenain aspects of reality: 'A philosophy's power is measured by e concepts it creates, or whose meaning it aite", concepts that ImPOse a new set of divisions on things and actions. '18 The divisions 'new' and the philosophical concepts that establish them are

�

are

146

Pierre Macherey

'created' in the true sense of the word, because their content dOes precede the act that fannulates them. L9 One might then whether this 'problem' of expression, which allows us to exp ltia Spinoza's project (whose singular course it sets) synthetically, i, 'Pe­ cific to Spinoza. Clearly for Deleuze it is not, and if there is sorn

� �

in the concept of expression that poses a problem, in the restricted; sense of the word, this is precisely because it forces us to confront, .. the set of choices that define the individuality of a particular systaa, of

thought, the basic direction of philosophical reflection in aeDtrtl.

What lies in this sense at the hean of a philosophical system, ra_ than confining it within some internal order, also propels it beyGlld itself; using different language, one might call this a 'field effect'. There is also a log';c of expression,20 from which eventually eIDelllt a complete 'system of expression'. 21 For expression, rather,

exemplifying ideas, amounts to a certain way ofthinking, �

�th�an:'::i::: �::=�J

of forming ideas, which abstracts them from a system of analou eminence that introduces between thought and its objects

relations of agreement or conformity that necessarily involve c

cation. The logic of expression that Deleuze finds in Spinoza i,.

of univocity, where things are thought in their being, since the act

thinking something is the same act that produces it, by which ;tc:oo.

to be. So that expression is nothing to do with designating or

.::::

senting anything: since what is expressed cannot be dissociated e the act by which it is expressed, expression is nothing like

mute resemblances on the surface of a picture.2Z So 'I

becomes a sort of expression',ll because expression embraces

way things come to be in reality and the way they are knowa

thought, thought itself being one form of reality alongside all others. If there is a logic in all this, it comes from the way thinking amounts to a certain way of arranging and correlatma within an 'expressive' scheme, which is ternary or triadic24 since always sets between what is expressed and what expresses it the act expressing, the very fact of expression, that dynamically frames each element is in itself, along with their relation. Such a relatiod is

... no sense indicative or representative, being irreducible to a "., . f!I relationship between twO terms. There is something in this arrangement reminiscent of a Hegelian-style dialectic; but as sooO If one considers the comparison, one sees that the way it implies 'labour of the negative' is altogether inconsistent with a philosophY pure affirmation:2' the act of expression that permits a synthesis

�:�::�;':

what is expressed and what expresses it is by definition the positive affirmation of a power. The logic of expression is b

•

The Encounter with Spinoza Iogic of

147

power, one might even say a logic of life or a logic of move­

l !O essentially different from the traditional logics of repre­ en . iOn that, in their quest for static identity, are constantly lat n

�

�reatened by negativity, and therefore dependent on a transcendent rinciple. By considering causality itself in terms of a logic of express­

f

on. fro m

the viewpoint of cause and reason as two aspects of the same

seu rario,27 Spinoza provides the basis for an integral relation. causa knowledge of reality, an inlellecrio completely embedded in the reality of which it is a direct expression.

One may therefore talk, finally, of a parh of expression. Expression presents a path because it is not simply a theoretical idea: the figure of

knowledge it establishes, with its associated logic, abolishes any dis­ tance between knowledge and its objects, producing a dynamic inte­ gration with the movement and power that propels these objects

towards realizing their natures. To conceive reality or 'nature' in terms ofexpression is to penetrate to its deepest level and become complete­ ly part of it, in a move whose repercussions are not merely speculative, since expression as essentially involving an impulse towards self-ex­ pression is an act, and can only be understood in action. Thus, setting out in Expressionism in Philosophy from a detailed study of the way the

logic of expression is at work in the text of the

Ethics, Deleuze shows

how this logic is not simply a way of analysing or thinking about life, but as 'expressing' the logic of life itself produces an ethics, in the

Strict sense of a way of living, a true elMS. And it is this practical aspect of expression that dominates the essay Spinoza: Practical Philosophy.

To understand Spinoza is actually to become Spinozist by following

this path of expression that engages us both theoretically and practi­ cally. And what is Spinozism? An intellectual adherence to one par­ ticular system of thought distinguished from all others as alone true? But that is philosophy reacting to the power of life by remaining on the abstract level of theory, of one particular the�ry indeed. Spinozism is an experience of thought and

life that carnes one n i eluctably beyond

the traditional limits of philosophy:

.

I think there's a lot of Spinozism in contemporary literature, music, movements, more indeed than in contemporary philosophy. Ultimately

it's the musicians, the writers, who are the real Spinozisu (Lawrence, Virginia Woolf, Whitman, Kerouac - there have always been some natural Spinozists in England and America).2t

10 be a

Spinozist in the Deleuzian sense is, then, to confront in life, and in one's own life, the real concerns of a 'rather hidden, rather

148

Pierre Macherey

tba� tb:

forbidden' minor or marginal philosophical ttadition,29 in which relations of being and thought arc: not simply representational, to say theoretical, but precisely the practical relations revealed by

concept of expression. Thus the subterranean character of exprellioct

comes out not only in the text afthe Ethics. but throughout the c0\lrt e of philosophy, for which this line of thinking constitutes a danacr

":

revolutionary threat of destabilization transmitting a dynamic imp

In a text published a decade after Expressionism in Philosophy, De1etat says that 'There is a philosophy-becoming which has nalbina to 40 with the history of philosophy and which happens through tboe e whom the history of philosophy does not manage to classify.·)O ., rereading Spinoza in the light of the concept of expression, Ddeuae

was clearly trying to extract him from his traditional place in .... history of philosophy and restore his unclassifiable character.

The Dangers of an Expressionist Reading Once one has identified Deleuze's project, as applying to SpiDoa'l text the concept of expression in its three aspects of 'problem', ....

and 'path', one is bound to consider the limitations of such an .... proach, which explicitly indeed, or so to speak openly, accepts ...

dangers of its own expressionist violence. In the book just ciaI4

discussing Proust's dictum that 'in great literature all our mistrll80

tions result in beauty', Deleuze suggests that 'This is a good WIf .

read: all mistranslations are good - always provided that they do .­ consist in imerpretations, but relate to the use of the book, that '" multiply its use, that they create yet another language inside its ....

guage. >ll This is exactly how one should see Expresnonism in �

ophy: not as a study in the history of philosophy suiving after a faicbfal.

correct reading, attempting merely a risk-free identical reprodudioa or charting of what is written in the Ethics as though it belonged to .

realm of past thoughts; rather as an attempt to put the text to work, to bring its theoretical and practical concerns into play, and brinS oul 'another language in its language' through a kind of repetition

&ccd

from the phantoms of idemity, and productive of differences. [)eo­

leuze's Spinoza is, it must be said, different rather than familiar. SUI different through a power of internal transformation, rather tbJIl through a wayward interpretation arbitrarily presenting an image Spinoza based on some artificial external representation. Deleuze I reading of Spinoza powerfully engages us because it distorts with()1ll d misrepresenting: if he sometimes forces the sense of the text, he do

�

The Encounter with Spinoza sa

il.

149

from within, to bring out the very force that inhabits and empowers

Deleuze's expressionist reading of Spinoza, then, forces the text out

of ilself by introducing the minimal dislocations needed to get it moving. The process is carried out in Expressionism in Philosophy with an extraordinary precision that quite forbids any suggestion of arbi­

trariness. I propose to demonstrate this here by considering two specific examples: the separation of qualitative and quantitative that

serves to explain the relation between substance and its attributes and modes, and the theme of joyful passions that organizes the analysis of finite modes and their forms of regulation. In each case Oeleuze might be said to stray from the text, not by introducing completely foreign elements, but by amplifying certain themes that are not fully de­ veloped,'2 thereby modifying the internal economy of their relations

w1th other more prominent aspects to which historians of philosophy have devoted most attention, but which seem from this viewpoint less significant.

Quality and Quantity For Deleuze, the initial problem which defines Spinoza's whole pro­ ject is that of understanding difference or distinction not only among finite elements (assuming at the outset, like Descartes, a pluraliry of substances) but starting from infinity and in infinity considered abso­ lutely and positively as such.}} Now solving this problem involves dispelling a confusion between two types of irreducibly different dis­ tinctions: real distinction, which discriminates between forms or gen­ era and can apply only to substance considered in relation to its attributes; and numerical distinction, which applies to the reality of things that are already determined within a form or genus, like modes or affections of substance.14 Spinoza's argument, it is claimed, de­ pends on the implicit axiom, which underlies the whole logic of expression, that 'numerical distinction is never real; then, conversely, real distinction is never numerical'.ls But what are we to understand

by real distinction? A distinction that is not 'numerical', in the sense

that it does not involve representing something as divided into parts that might be enumerated as two or more: 'Purely qualitative, quiddi­ tative or formal, real distinction excludes any division . . . The theory has as its fundamental principle the qualitative status of real distinc­ tion. Detached from all numerical distinction, real distinction is car­

ried into the absolute.·}6 This is the logic, according to Deleuze, that

150

Pierre Macherey

leads Spinoza to explain that in their infinite diversity the attribu tes jointly, and each in their own way, 'express' the singular essenc (essemia - not an essence or this or that essence among others)

�

substance, since it is inconceivable that the essence of substance cou

ld itself be composed of a multiplicity of essences, in the sense that one may talk from the viewpoint of numerical distinction of a plurality of modal essences. Deleuze, in presenting this argument, gives the impression that he is following as closely as possible the reasoning of Spinoza's text, and thereby attributes to the most enigmatic (because most elliptical)

aspects of the exposition a striking prominence. But one must poim out that his presentation is based on a concept that simply does DOt appear in the text, being taken explicitly from Duns ScotuS:31 that of quiddity or form, which allows one to interpret attributes as infmitc or pure qualities, whose indivisible diversity that cannot be decomposed into parts expresses what is absolutely infinite in the essence of sub­ stance, its nature and power. And Deleuze himself recognizes that 'to picture Spinoza as Scotist rather than Canesian is to risk certaia distortions'.38 Where do the distortions begin? One might admit that presenq attributes in terms of qualities or quiddities, which must in no sense

be understood as properties, does accord with Spinoza's own fotJllUoo lations, albeit using words not to be found in his text but transpoNd

from a different context . . . And that close reading doesn't necessuiIJ mean definitively locking a text within the words of its own exposiooa. but means opening it to encounters that, by getting independelll movements of thought to react upon each other while maintainiDI

their specificity, shed light on their n i dividual characteristics.39 This iI just what Deleuze does by developing a parallel between Duns ScaNl

and Spinoza in terms of the relation between real and formal distiDo­

tion. But when he moves from considering these qualities or forms to quality as such, conceived as constituting a distinct order of reaU"

corresponding to natura naturans, one may legitimately question the relevance of such a move - which would make just as much or more sense in relation to the Bergson of the first chapter of Time

Will - to Spinoza.

and PrtII

For one cannot then consider this qualitative order except in rela· tion to a quantitative order opposed to it. Deleuze appears to proceed in this direction by explaining that on the level of substance, of the absolutely infinite, one finds only quality, and that only on the level of determinate affections of substance does one begin to find quantiCY' indeed pure quantity:

151

The Encoumer with Spinoza

The distinction or attributes is nothing but the qualitative composi­ tion or an ontologically single substance; substance is distinguished into an infinity or attributes, which are

as

it were its actual rorms or

component qualities. Berore all production there is thus a distinction,

but this distinction is also the composition of substance itself. The production of modes does, it is true, take place through differentiation. But differentiation is in this case purely quantitative. If real distinction is never numerical, numerical distinction is, conversely, essentially modal. Number is of course more suitably applied to things of reason than to modes themselves. Yet it remains that modal distinction is quantitative, even if number does not well explain the nature of such quantity.4o

But how can a numerical distinction whose nature is not well ex­ plained by number be simply numerical? Above all, why reduce the distinction between

in se and in alio,

substantial and modal, to one of

quality and quantity? A Hegelian would complain that this effectively frames the distinction in the categories of a logic of being that hasn't even been fully developed, hasn't reached the integration of quality

and quantity in measure, which is just another name for mode.4! It must be said that nothing in the text of the Ethics, where quantity is barely discussed,42 corroborates Deleuze's analysis. It is a distortion which, rather than bringing out certain aspects of Spinoza 's argument, shifts its focus, introducing new problems that are almost certainly false problems in relation to Spinoza himself. Spinoza never considers any distinction that is purely qualitative because free from any quanti­ tative determination, with quantity under-nood simply in tenns of numerical distinction.43 And this is no accident. because for Spinoza there aren't two different orders of things, but only the single order of nature itself which is at once

natura nalurans

and

'Iatura naturata,

the

same nature on the two levels of constitution and production. One might note in this context that Deleuze has elsewhere exten­ Sively criticized what he calls 'binary machines', which he sees above all as machines producing dialectical oppositions, presenting every­ thing in black and white from the viewpoint of a negativity that divorces reality from itself, subjecting it to the law of transcendence ­ a criticism that reflects a key element in his Nietzscheanism. If he is interested in the logic of expression, this is precisely because the

ternary or triadic structure of that logic helps eliminate the image of

basic oppositions, and allows one in a sense to reason 'beyond good

and evil'. But it is not quite that easy to escape the sway of binary machines. The very act of denouncing and rejecting them may impli­

cate just such a machine, and in Deleuze's style of argumentation,

PI.'me Macherey

152

y ematic�lly settin� minor mode against m�ior, one often fln
Joyful Passions

The second example I want to consider is supposed to generate a quite different form of three-termed reasoning of a syllogistic character tbat seems better aligned with the basic orientation of the logic of exprcq.. ion. But does it bring Deleuze any closer to Spinoza? Or does it 0DCe again distort Spinoza's thought [0 produce a more expressive readina? The notion of 'joyful passions' is introduced by Deleuze as follawa: The opposition of actions and passions should not conceal the other

opposition that constitutes the second principle of Spinozism: that of

joyful passive affections and sad passive affections. One increases our power, the other diminishes il. We come closer to our power of acrioa

insofar as we are affected by joy. The ethical question falls then, ill

How can we come 10 produce active af/ectl:ons? But How con we come to experience a maximum ofjoyful passions?"

Spinoza, into two parts: first of all:

'Joyful passions', remaining passions because they are suffered, arisiDI from chance encounters with external bodies and subject [0 the laWi of imagination, yet at the same time joyful because they correspond to an increase in our power of acting, seem to occupy an intermediate place between the twO extremes of freedom and slavery, and thus to provide a frame of transition from one to the other. This, indeed, is how the notion is subsequently developed: [Joyful passions) still do not give us possession of our power of action; we have no adequate idea of objects that agree in nature with us; joyful passions are themselves born of inadequate ideas, which only indicate a

body's effeci on us. We must then, by the aid a/joyful passimls. form the idea of what is common to some external body and our own. For this idea alone, this common notion, is adequate. This is me second stage of reason; then, and then only, do we understand and aCI, and we are reasonable: this not through the accumulation of joyful passions as

The Encounter willi Spinoza

153

passions, but by a genuine 'leap,' which puts us in possession of an adcquate idea, by the aid of such accumulation.4'

leap that links yets separates them In this sequence of'stages', and the by invoking the tension of 'already' and 'still not', one might see the

outline of a dialectic. Even though joyful passions involve, as passions, :I sort of negativity,46 still, through them, 'by their aid', it is possible to initiate the transition that will eventually allow the soul to reappropri­

ate its power by rising to the level of pure activity:4? thus, 'before becoming active, we must select and link together passions that in­ crease our power of action'.48 One might be tempted to caU this transformation of passivity into activity a negation of the negation, or a ruse of reason that makes use of an evil, passion, to advance some­ thing good, ethical liberation. It is surprising to see Deleuze venturing into this area and arguing in such an unfamiliar manner. One also wonders what might support such speculation. The notion of a 'joyful passion' is not in fact entirely absent from Spinoza's text, at least at first glance. When the notions

of joy and sadness are first introduced in the scholium to Ethics In, 1 1 ,

it is with explicit reference to the notion of passion: 'By joy, therefore,

I shall understand in what follows that passion by which the mind

passes to a greater perfection. And by sadness, that passion by which it passes to a lesser perfection. '49 And it is only at the very end of this same part of the Ethics. at proposition 58, that Spinoza rather unex­ pectedly introduces the idea that along with the joys and desires that are passions because they correspond to external encounters, there are others whose genuinely active character sets them apart from this

passive order: 'Apart from the joy and desire that are passions, there are other affects of joy and desire that are related to us insofar as we act. ·so Everything turns on whether this talk of passionate joys, together with our transition to a greater perfection as a result of the chance composition of our being with that of something else that agrees with it in nature, allows one to speak also of 'joyful passions' whose very passivity prefigures or prepares the way for the transition to greater activity. But if we look carefully at what Spinoza says, this seems very doubtful. On this particularly difficult question, I would claim rather bluntly that for Spinoza all passions, without exception, are sad - even

�ose that are or appear to be joys. Or that they are all ultimately sad, !� a Sort of passionate entropy, being precisely transitions unfolding in

tIme that cannot be reduced to momentary states. In anything that places the soul in a passive situation there is something fundamentally

Pierre Macherey

154

bad or harmful, and no conjuring with the situation will eVer turn somethin� bad or harm 1 into someth ng us7ful. One mi t speak of a sad destmy of the paSSions, of all passIOns Without exception, inclU4-

:u

!

�

ing joys that are passions. A 'joyful passion', indeed, is a contradictiOQ in terms, corresponding at best to a passing, unstable and littran, non-viable state of our constitution. Not only is it not enough to multiply, to accumulate such joyful passions to provide a framework

for the soul to accede, in a qualitative leap, to the level of activity; sucb an accumulation is actually impossible because joyful passions,

Whid:a

are in fact imaginary joys linked [0 encounters with external bodia, cannot be assembled into a coherent stable group, but rather tead inevitably [0 conflict. tending not towards any composition but to­ wards decomposition.

One must however admit that the idea of potentially combininl aucb

passing joys to provide the frame of transition to true joy, on an active rather than a passive basis, does allow one to bring out the structureal argument in the fifth pan of the Ethics, which comprises two IQOo cessive components. The first twenty propositions present the trIDIi­

tion to freedom in the form of affective therapy. This operates maiaIr through our imagination, developing a real an imaginandi that invohw passing from the state where one imagines 'simply,'

simpliciter. dun, or 'viYkIlJ

stupidly registering this or that, to a state where one imagines and more distinctly', vivide et

dislinclius,

more intelligently. Oae .

tempts in this way to fit the imagination's representations into ftIIr

wider contexts, so as to produce their synthesis in a sovereign p..... 'love toward God', amor erga Deum, that pacifies the soul by estab­ lishing the basis for an internal regulation of its affects. And it i,

oaI:r

having worked through this initial stage, throughout which soul uad

body remain closely linked, that one is able to envisage the basi, tor i liberation of the soul 'without relation to the body',

cOrpUS.'1

ne relatWrtl _

si

or at least, as Spinoza later explains, 'without relation to me

sine relatione ad corporis txistentiam.'2 In the count of this final stage - which actually establishes the basis for . new

body's existence',

association of soul and body,n with the latter no longer considered

from the viewpoint of its existence, but from that of its essence - tbt soul becomes entirely active and master of itself, by beginning to

cultivate a new affect divested of all passion, 'the intellectual love �

God'. amor intellectualis Dei. far removed from the impulse that dra� the soul toward any extemal thing, however elevated, because It expresses the attachment that draws the absolute thing that is God

toward itself, as felt by a soul detaching itself completely from. the

particularity associated with its personal identity. Isn'[ this just [)e-

The Encounter with Spinoza

155

's two-stage progress from passivity to activity, where joyful leuze passions frame a transition to genuinely active joy? But then the affective therapy described in the early propositions of the final part of the EthiCl, exploiting the 'power of imagination', potentia imaginandi or anything in imagination that has power or is active in the strict sense,

would have to operate on the level of the passions, where the soul is nol master of its actions but still ruled by chance encounters of the body with external bodies. What Spinoza seems to be proposing, however, is a transformation of the workings of imagination that progressively eliminates their passive aspects, bringing them ever closer to a production of adequate ideas. It must be admitted that interpreting Spinoza on this point is far from easy, given the extremely elliptical character of his reasoning in the fifth part of the Ethics, but

the text hardly confirms the existence of joyful passions. Let us look, though, for something in Spinoza's text that might

invalidate the notion. In the third part of the Ethics, entirely given up

to a scientific study of affective mechanisms, appears the very impon­ ant theme of a 'vacillation of mind', f/uclUalio animi,St which repre­ sents the state of mental confusion connected with situations in which the soul is at once sad and joyful, or joyful and sad, being simulta­ neously drawn towards both an increase and a diminution of its perfec­ tion. This is no extreme case, an unusual paradoxical combination, but corresponds in fact to a situation in which the soul regularly finds itself while under the sway of the passions and their 'forces', vires, which on a basic level alienate the soul by subjecting it to a law foreign to its own nature. This is the 'sad destiny of the passions' to which I have already alluded: in all passions without exception there is, in their character as passions, something that tends towards a f/uctuatio animi by imprinting in them the form of joys that are sad, loves built on hatred, or perhaps sadness that brings joy, hatred disguised as love. Spinoza's whole analysis of affectivity, at least on its passive level,55 turns on this idea of the affective ambivalence that taints all our joys with sadness insofar as, through an imaginary fixation, they assume

the fonn of a love for external things. And ifthe possibility of pure joys

finally reveals itself, joys through which the soul fuUy senses its power of thinking and of fonning ideas deriving from its own nature, this in turn is because there is no place in our mental constitution for pure sadness, unmarked by the ambivalence that disrupts it from within. Ihe way Spinoza uses the theme of f/uctuatio mlimi shows how the symmetry established between joy and sadness by the fact that they are prod uced by converse movements is merely apparent: there is in sadness nothing even potentially positive that might allow one to see it

156

Pierre Macherey

as a limiting expression of amatUJ, to which it remains altogether foreign. $0 that if we must interpret Spinoz3 on this point. we rni 8ht more convincingly present him as a theorist of alienation, than mab him a philosopher of expression. Deleuze, however, touches only in passing on this theme ofafluc:n._

ario animi, so which completely undermines the notion of joyful pa... sions. And one can easily see why he disregards, even avoids it:

because all his own philosophical thinking is based on rejecting the theme of ambivalence and the associated dialectical inversions that he

sees as depending on negativity. Shonly before Expressionism in Philos­ ophy, Deleuze had published Coldness and Crueity,Sl prefiguring the main theoretical lines of Anti-Oedipus and its radical questioning of Freudian psychoanalysis. He there claimed that by framing the con. cept of a death instinct underlying or beyond the pleasure principle,

and by developing on this base a syncretic picture of sado-masochistic perversion, correlating the pleasure associated with inflicting pain or sadism with that associated with suffering pain or masochism, u

though one were dealing with twO symmetric limiting forms of the

same love-and-death that propels the whole development of the libido, and by interpreting libidinal repetition in terms of jdentity within thiI

tragic frame. Freud altogether failed to understand the 'minor' fOrml of affectivity seen in sadistic and masochistic relations. and the speci8c differences fundamental to each. But a harmful pleasure. whether inflicted or suffered, would clearIJ for Spinoza be a passion imbued with fluctualio mlimi. ineluctabIJ

producing a negative legacy of sadness. And jf there is no place in bit

analysis of affectivity for a death instinct infecting conatus at the deepest level. and not only in its conscious outward manifestions, tbiI

is simply because there is in passion, as something suffered, nothiDa: positive to provide a foothold for the liberation of desire. Passion is subjection to another's law, which is the very principle of slavery; the

only way to escape it is to develop, as far as possible, new fonns of affects irreducible to this scheme of passion, genuine actions of the soul. And the first twenty propositions of the final part of the Etltia explain the part 'the power of imagination' can play in this process. Any finner conclusions would require a more detailed textual ana­ e lysis, for which there is no space here; but I will end by once mor ss­ expre emphasizing the dangers involved in Deleuze's expressive or ionist reading of Spinoza's philosophy, rethinking it for his own pur­ or poses within a perspective that clearly does not simply reproduce oZi Spin chart it. I said earlier that the idea of expression was present in dS by its absence: this, it now appears, is because it actually stan

The Encounter with Spinoza

157

a constructive device or heuristic between Deleuze and Spinoza as , as the mark of an encounter, which is the best way to charac­ heme sc

terize a philosophical experiment that has defmitively broken with the traditional methods of the history of philosophy. And as Deleuze told

himself later: 'You would only meet those who had not been waiting for you to produce encounters in themselves. '58

ttanslated by Martin Joughin

NOTES

2

3

4

5 6

7

S

DiaiagutS, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, London: Athlone and New York: Columbia University Press, 1987, pp. 24-5. 'Spinoza et la methode generale de M. Gueroult', n i Revue de Mila­ physique el de Mora/e, 74:4, 1969, pp. 426-37. By bringing out, for example, the part played by the synthetic, genetic method ofproof in the first ten propositions of the first part of the Ethics, where Spinoza reconstructs the process of self-production of Substance: Deleuze and Guerouit both reject a hypothetical reading of these prop­ ositions, attributing to them a real rather than formal significance. Gueroult covered paru Ill, IV and V of the Ethies (following pans I and II, 'God' and 'The Soul') n i his lectures at the College de France and the Ecole Normale Superieure at St Cloud. but the results of that work were never published. It would be interesting to know what he might have had to say about the passages in the Ethics (which one is bound to link to the Thea/agica-Political Treatiu) and the Polirical Treatise) that touch on general problems of politics - an area never considered by Guerouh elsewhere (in this sense, one might say. he was deeply Canesian). These words are to be found on the cover notes of Individu el Commu­ naUlt chez Spinoza, Paris: Minuit, 1969. One should not forget that the book prints the text of a study initially undertaken for academic reasons - a supplementary doctoral dissertation submitted under the title 'The Idea of Expression in the Philosophy of Spinoza' along with the main dissertation. Difference and Reptn'rion, also published n i 1968. The following year Deleuze went on to publish The Logic 0/ Serue. Such a prodigious theoretical output is quite astonishing. The subtitle ofthe conclusion, 'The Theory of Expression in Leibniz and Spinoza: Expressionism in Philosophy', as well as the English title of Deleuze's book. DcJeuze's main objective is to show how the model of rationality de­ veloped by Spinoza is, in its dependence on the idea of expression, irreducible to the ideal type of rationalism found in Descartes. He thus i Spinoza (E:cpreuionism in Philosophy, p. 149). talks ofa 'new rationalism' n

158

Pierre Macherey

j in Philosophy, p. 16, n. C; p. 82, n. Or 'is expressed': see ExpressionJm CO p. 105, n. b, c. (TRANS.). 10 The three dimensions are considered in the three parts oCthe book: "Tbe Triads of SUbstance', 'Parallelism and Immanence', and 'The Theory or Finite Modes'. 1 1 From the cover notes of Exprtssionism in Philosophy; Delcuze insists Very suongly on this idea of the Ethics as a tw()..-sided book, which he subataz»­ tiales in his appendix (pp. 337-50). He returns to it again at the close of the second chapter of Spinoza: Practical Philosophy, trans. Robert Hurler • San Francisco: Ciry lights, 1988:

9

The Ethics is a book written twice simultaneously: once in the continuous stream of definitions, propositions. demonsuatiortl, and corollaries, which develop the great speculative themes with all the rigors of the mind; another time in the broken chain of scholl., a discontinuous volcanic line, a second version underneath the first, expressing aU the angers of the hean and setting forth the practical theses of denunciation and liberation. (pp. 28-9) The rigorous mind reasons, but the angry hean 'expresses' by bringilll oat the practical implications of this theoretical activity, and articulatinl whaI: a note calli 'a sC1:ond subterranean EthiCJ' (p. 29). 12 For a tabulation of occurrences of exprimerl throughout Spinoza's won. see Emilia Giancotti Boschcrini's Luicon Spinozanum, The Hague, 1970. A complete list of occurrences in the Ethics, with their contexts, may hi i the Gueret-Robinet-Tombeur concordance (Ethica: Concont.. found n CU, Index., Lures dl Frlqlw1Ca, Tabla Comparatiws, l..ouvain, 1977). i in Philosophy, p . 1 9 (my italics). 1 3 Exprusonism 1 4 Robinet has made a detailed study of the vocabulary of expression in me Ethics ('Expression ou expressivit� scion Ethica 77', in RnJue dl SynUNsI. January-September 1978), and from a minute analysis he reache. Ibc conclusion that: By lxprimlre, Spinoza understands an enunciation on various Icvcb that n i its multiplicity presents the unily of an irreversible descend­ ing hierarchy - attributes never expressing modes, nor substance attributes. In its broadest sense, lxprimm conveys this capacity of language to enounce in diverse terms the totality of absolutely infinite being. It is the very act of enunciation that allows words to do this, which is why Spinoza never makes use of the noun rxpressio. as no doubt too static and too loaded with associations to convey this unfolding of understanding in the words that express it. Thus, if we must find some term, 1 would prefer 'expressivity', as perhaps better conveying this dynamic relation of being and its enunciation. These conclusions, emphasizing the enunciative aspect of the idea of expression or expressivity, do not however contradict the main thrust of Dcleuze's argumem.

The Encounur with Spjnoza 15 16

17

18 19

159

Spirloza, Paris, 1970 (published n i the PUF collection 'Philosophes', presented on the back cover as 'Summaries for University Students'). published in Paris, 1981.

Spinoza: Practical Philosophy, pp. 44-109. Exprelsionism in Philosophy, p. 3 2 l . Deleuze has gone on to devote a whole book What is Philosophy?, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Graham Burchell, New York: Columbia University

Press, 1994, to this question. Among other things, one there reads that 'All concepts are connected to problems without which they would have

no meaning and which can themselves only be isolated or understood as their solution emerges' (p. 16), and that 'A concept requires not only a problem through which it recasts or replaces earlier concepts but a junction of problems where it combines with other coexisting concepts' (p 18). Philosophy, thus understood, is the an of concepts considered, not statically as objective designations of things, but dynamically as markers or indeed generators of problems, or as schemes of problemati­ zation. 20

i For an exposition of this logic, and its history, see Expressionism n Philosophy, p. 62ff. One might discuss at length Deleuze's use of the term 'logic' to characterize a 'logic of expression', a 'logic of sensation' or a 'logic of sense' - a different sort of logic than that of traditional logicians. Deleuze is talking of this different logic when he writes that 'Spinoza's philosophy is a "Logic" (Expressionsm i in Philosophy, p. 129). Expressionism in Philosophy, pp. 299, 310. ,

21

22 23

24

Francis Bacon's 'expressionist' painting, considered as a 'logic of sensa­ tion', is in this sense patently 'Spinozist'.

Expressionism i" Philosophy, p. 14; and see also p. 152: 'Leibniz's remark that knowledge is a sptciel 0/ exprelsioll could have come from Spinoza.' 'Expression presents us with a triad . . . The idea of expression remains unintelligible while we see only two of the terms whose relations it

presents' (ExpreJSioni sm in Philosophy, p. 27); 'What is expressed every­ 25

where intervenes as a third term that transforms dualities'

(p.

3 1 1).

'Spinoza's philosophy is a philosophy of pure affirmation. Affirmation is the speculative principle on which hangs the whole of the Ethics' (Express­

iOllism ill Philosophy, p . 60); 'Spinoza seems to have gone funher than any Other along the path of this new logic: a logic of pure affirmation, of unlimited quality, and thus of the unconditioned totality that possesses all qualities; a logic, that is, of the absolute' (p. 80). Deleuze returns to this theme in Spi"oza: Practical Philosophy: 'In the reproach that Hegel will make of Spinoza, that he ignored the negative and its power, lies the

glory and innocence of Spinoza, his own discovery. In a world consumed 26

by the negative, he has enough confidence in life . . . to denounce all the phantoms of the negative' (p. 13). These are distinctly Bergsonian themes that one finds in Deleuze's study of 'Bergsonism', Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1966, and also in his works on cinema, which are essays n i applied expressionism

(The

160

27

28

29 30 31 32 33

34

35

36

37

38 39

Pierre Macherey Mowmem.lmage, Paris: Minuit. 1983; and The Time-Image, Paris: Minui t. 1985).

'For while the concept of expression adequately applies to real causality in the sense that an effect expresses its cause, and knowledge of the df expresses a knowledge of iu cause, the concept nonetheless goes further than causaity, l since it brings a correspondence and a retonance into series that are altogether foreign to one another. So that real causality it a species of expression, but merely a species subsumed under a DIore fundamental genus. This genus directly explains the possibility of distinct and heterogeneous series (expressions) expressing the same invariaDt (what is expressed), by establishing in each of the varying series the &aIDe concatenation of causes and dfecls' (Exprrssionism in Philosophy, p. 327). This passage from Dcl�uzc's conuibution to th� 1977 Paris confereoce marking the third cent�nary orSpinoza's death ap�ars in the textpublilbecl in RetJfU fh Synthbe Ganuary-September 1978), but is cut from the vcnioa printed in 1981 as the concluding section orSpinoza: Prac�PhiJosoplry. Expressionism in Philosophy, p. 322. Dia/ogues, p. 2. Ibid., p. 5. This is precisely what he does with the theme or expression, which hardIr has ror Spinoza the importance accorded it by Deleuze. 'What is the character or distinction within infinity?' (Exprusiorra. " Philosophy, p. 28). The principle or this division is introduced at Ethics I. 4: 'Two or � distinct things are distinguished from one another, either by a difference " the atuibutes or the substances or by a difference n i their affections' (u... Curley, p. 411; Duae aut plures res distinctae, vel imer se distinguutflW .

�

dwenitate attributorum substantiarum, wi ex diwrsilau earundcn aff«no.a.&.)

Expressionism in Philosophy, p. 34; and cf p. 38: 'That real distinctioa it not and cannot be numerical appears to me to be one or the principii themes orthe Ethics.' Ibid., pp. 38-9. In claiming that 'ScoriSt theories w�r� certainly known to Spinoza, aDd played a pan, along with oth�r themes, in rorming his pantheism' (� pressionism in Phlosophy, i p. 66; the appended note attempts to justify die claim historically), Deleuz� is venturing onto rather uncertain ground­ Th� analysis or the 'sources' or Spinoza's thought is relatively inde­ pendent or the structural study or its philosophical content. Moreover, tO usc a word coined in the eightccnth century in connection with a ccrtaid reading or Spinoza to talk or his 'pantheism' is n i �vitably to intrOduCC elements or interpretation. Expressonism i ill PhiJosophy, p. 66. In his Dialogues with Claire Parnet, Deleuz� calls such an �ncount�r • 'marriage', adding that unnatural marriages may well be th� most inter­ �sting and, parado)Cically. the mosl rertil� (see DiologueJ, pp. 13-17).

The Encounter with Spinoza 40

161

Exprmionism in Philosophy, pp. 182-3.

.J I

A 'mode', modus, is literally a 'measure' or 'manner'. Except in the scholium to Ethics V. 15, in relation to the problem of

43

Quantity in Spinoza, no less than quality, is characterized in terms of

42

infinite quantity.

power. When he deals with quantitative relations, such as the relative force of affects, he always does so within a framework of intensive series,

which cannot be reduced to the extensional relations of parw utra panes

that mechanically detennine pure quantity within a static frame. Deleuze i the third part of his book, devoted to the theory explains this admirably n of finite modes.

44 Expressionism in Philosophy, p. 246. 45

Ibid., p. 283.

46

'It remains the case that every passion is in itself bad insofar as it involves

47

The same theme is taken up as follows in Spinoza: Prtuti cai Philosophy:

sadness' (ibid., p.

271).

' . . . the basic distinction between two som of passions, sad passions and

joyful passions, prepares for a very different distinction, between panions

and actions' (p. 48 49

50). The problem here is the phrase 'prepares for'. 294.

Expres5ionism in Philosophy, p. •

Per laetitiam in sequemibus imeUigam passionem qua mern ad majorem

perfectionum transit. Per tri$lio'am aurem passionem qua ipsa ad minonm transit P
Praeter laetitiam et cupiditaum quat passionu sum alii laetiliae et cupidiuuis

•

a//ectus damur qui ad nos quatenus agimllS rt/erumur.' 51 52 53

Ethics V. 20, scholium. Ibid., V.

40, scholium.

For there is nothing to suggest that the soul can ever cease being the idea ofa body, and so continue to exist without the body. Deleuze's discussion at the close of his book (Exprmionism in Philosophy, pp.

3 1 5-16)

of the

problem of the soul's immonaliry in tenns of the state in which the soul finds itself 'afte; death' ('We become completely expressive') is hardly

convincing. The experience of eternity available to us while alive is for Spinoza an absolute actuality and thus comph�tely independent of any beginning or end of our existence. Indeed, this is the only element omitted from the briefer exposition of Spinoza: Practical Philosophy.

54 The theme is introduced in the scholium to proposition 17. 55 That is to say, up to Ethics III. 58, where the concept of active affects is introduced rather like a Deus ex m(Uhina.

56 57

£xpressio"ism in Philosophy, p.

58

los, the following ycar.

243, n.

23.

Expressio" ism i" Philosophy appeared in the same series, cd. Kostas Axe­

Sec the opening quote from Dialogues.

9

Through a Spinozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power -

Moira Gatens

an animal, a thing, is never separable from its relations with the world. I

Form and Function In The Order of Things, Michel Foucault claimed that the domain tI

the human sciences may be 'defined by thelir] triple relatioD . . . ..

..

biology, economics and philology', that is, by a speculative knowl.....

of life, production and language.2 Such speculation, panicularly in ....

field of biology, produces knowledge concerning human being thatt. cast in terms of bolhfunctions and

'Ionns.

As Foucault explains:

upon the projected surface of biology . . . man appears as a being f'DS'"

sessing ftmctions - receiving stimuli (physiological ones, but also s�

interhuman, and cultural ones), reacting to them, adapting himself.

an environment, comilla: to terms with the modifications it m i poses, seeking to erase imbalances, acting n i accordance with regularities, having, in short, conditions of

evolving, submitting [0 the demands of

existence and the possibility of fmding average which permit him to perform his junctions.]

"orms

of adjustment

It is under the rubric of such knowledge that sexual difference bit appeared as a biological norm which differentiates a species (horDO sapiens) into functions (begetterlbearer of child; penetrator/pene­

uated; active/passive). These functions of the sexes are further maiD-­ tained and regulated by social, civil and legal norms. Foucault dOCS not theorize sex as a privileged 'outside' which pre-exists the operatiod

Through a Spinozsl i uns: Ethology, Difference, Power

163

of normative power. Sex is itself both produced by, and productive of, a complex of sociohistorical nonns that are immanent to their field of action. In contrast. the human sciences have tended to conceive of regulative lmd nonnative power as extraneous to the field of its appli­ cation. It has been conceived as a power which transcends as well as imposes itself upon a preconstituted field. Foucault. contrarily, insists on the immanence and mutual interdependence of nonns and that upon which they act.4 Such speculative knowledge then. is not juSt description but also, as Foucault says, a violence done to things. As part of the discursive construction of human society, the human sciences do not simply describe but also serve to organize bodies. their powers and capacities. As Foucault has shown in many of his works. perhaps especially in Herculine Barbin, the biological body. (here conceived as an abstract model), allows the assignment of a 'true sex', necessary for an individ­ ual to occupy her or his 'proper place' in society by perfonning the appropriate functions. according to biological nonns which are inter­ leaved with social norms and moral judgements. The medical reports on the body of the hermaphrodite. Alexina, make it clear what is at stake: what is hislher 'true' place in society? whom is slhe allowed to love and marry? what is hislher civil status? is slhe able to reproduce?' These questions cannot be answered prior to knowing the truth of his/her sex. In this sense, Foucault is right to stress the interrelation of biology with all the other human sciences. The 'truth' of the sex of a body acts to condition differentially the force of the nonns which define one's social, economic and civil status. On the nineteenth century reading of human being, if Alexina was confused about hislher desires then the cause is surely hislher uncer­ tain biological condition. Insofar as the human sciences developed in the shadow of Cartesian dualism, this should not surprise us. What is perhaps surprising is the extent to which many contemporary psycho­ analytic and feminist views of the individual have mirrored such a suspect notion according to which causality runs from body to mind. Or, from sex to gender. The sex/gender distinction has been, at various times, both useful and detrimental to feminist projects. It has been mOSt detrimental when it has been understood on a causal model of body/mind dualism. Such an understanding too readily leads to an either/or impasse. Either it leads to a reversal ofthe historical privilege of the mind, which reactively privileges the body conceived in materi­ alist terms, and may even lead to more or less subtle forms of biologi­ cal essentialism. Or, it falls into an idealism that produces a \'oluntaristic politics of 'choose' or 'invent' your gender.o As Judith

164

Moira Gatens

Butler has argued, we need to think beyond POSltlOns which ' presuppose a set of metaphysical oppositions between materialism idealism [which are] embedded in received grammar

.

. .'7

�

This paper attempts to 'think beyond' this set of metaphysic al oppositions by reading Deleuze through a Spinozist lens. The view

sketched here allows one to acknowledge the nonnative operations of sex and gender without prioritizing either. It also rejects the tendeac:y

[Q identify sex with the body understood as given in nature,

&Qd

gender with the sociopolitical normative organization of the drives I.bd

desires of the 'natural' body. As well as challenging a bioloaiuD

inherited from dualism and a voluntarism inherited from idealism, tbia

attempt will engage with the two other forms of speculative knowledae to which Foucault refers: economics and linguistics. I challenge the standard 'economic' interpretation of the figure of Robinson

Crusoe

through a reading of Toumier's Fn"day, below. In the final section I offer a micropolitical understanding of language as an instance of IQ assemblage (or series of assemblages) that individuates types of bodr

through the differential powers with which it invests them.

Spinoza's Plane of Immanence the plane of immanence is ceaselessly being woven, like shuttle.'

a gigantic

Why does Deleuze refer to Spinoza as the 'Prince' and also the

'ChriIt'

of philosophy?9 Because Spinoza succeeds more than any other philOfo' opher in thinking ' . . . the "best" plane of immanence - that is, the

purest, the one that does not hand itself over to the transcendent, die one that inspires the fewest illusions, bad feelings, and erroneous perceptions' .10 The plane of immanence is 'pre-philosophical',

meaning that it is the unthought within thought. It is ' . . . the imaae thought gives itself of what it means to think, to make use of thought. to find one's bearing in thought'"l

of �

Along with Foucault, Deleuze and Spinoza belong to a tradition

thought which has been called 'anti-;uridical,.12 What defines tradition is a commitment to thinking against a fundamental propO� tion of humanist philosophy, namely, that sociability requires the organization of an individual's natural affects by a power that

t�P

scends the namral condition, for example, Hobbes' leviathan. ThiS juridical view posits a dual ontology consisting of twO distinct planes:

Through Q Spinozist Lens: E!h% gy, Diffuence, Power

165

first, a plane of nature or immanence, second, a transcendent plane which functions to organize and socialize the ftrst. Following Spinoza, Deleuze insists upon the univocity of Being, claiming: 'there is no dualism between the two planes of transcendent

organization and immanent consistence . . . [w]e do not therefore speak of a dualism between two kinds of "things" but of a multiplicity of dimensions, of lines and directions in the heart of an assemblage.'lJ

The ceaseless becoming of the plane of immanence fragments the normative work of the plane of organization which, in tum, refolds and reexpresses this undoing by attempting to block and contain in molar forms the mobility and dynamism of the molecular. Transcend­

ence/immanence,

organization/experimentation,

molar/molecular,

beingibecoming, extensive/intensive - are not these Deieuzian distinc­ tions reflective of a stubborn dualism inherent to Western meta­ physics? I think not and a consideration of those aspects of Spinoza's philosophy which are central to Deleuze's project may show why. Spinoza's ontology is thoroughly monist and so offers a path out of the problematic of dualism. He works on what Deleuze has called 'a plane of immanence or consistency', meaning that Spinoza rejects all transcendent being: including God as a transient cause, final causes, the teleology of nature or history, a transcendent morality, and so on. For Spinoza, there is one immanent substance, human being is a mode of the attributes of nature: thought and extension. Knowledge, or the power of thought, is our most powerful affect, and everything that exists strives to persevere in its being: one's power of being does not affect but is expressed through one's power of thinking, and vice versa. Human being is conceived as part of a dynamic and interconnected whole, distinguishable from other bodies only by means of the speed and slowness, motion and rest, of the pans which compose it.I4 The human body is understood by Spinoza to be a complex individual, made up of a number of other bodies. Its identity can never be viewed as a final or finished product as in the case of the Cartesian automaton, since it is a body that is in constant interchange with its environment. Spinoza understands the body as a nexus of variable interconnections, a multiplicity.

The human body is radically open to its surroundings and can be composed, recomposed and decomposed by other bodies. From the perspective of modal existence, such encounters with other bodies are

COnceived as good or bad depending on whether they aid or harm our characteristic dynamic or kinetic constitution. The complexity of any particular mind - and Spinoza does not deny that animals have minds

- depends on the complexity of the body of which it is the idea. As

166

Moira GaltmS

Hans Jonas has observed, �pin?za's monistic account oflhe mind lDd. body offered. for the first orne In modem theory, '3 speculative melQa . . . for relating the degree of organization of a body to the de&ree of awareness belonging to it' ,IJ Reason, or the power of thought, thus CIa not be seen as a transcendent or disembodied quality of the soul or mind but rather reason, desire and knowledge are embodied I.IId express, at least in the first instance, the quality and complexity oftb e corporeal affects. There is no question of mindlbody interaction IiDce '(t)he body cannot determine the mind to thinking, and the miad cannot determine the body to motion, to rest or to anything else ' .

. .

(£Chics, III, prop. 2). For Spinoza, body and mind "ecessariiy sutler or act in coneen (Ethics, II, prop. 13. sehoL). Human freedom, thou,b

not free will, amounts to the power that one possesses actively to select

one's encounters rather than suffer chance associations.

For Spinoza, human being is detennined to exercise its power 01

thought in pursuit of that which it understands will increase ill

powers, that is, reason amounts to a power of selecting those � counters which will increase one's capacities for action. Spinoza 0" a basis from which to develop a non-hegemonic conception of re....

much needed in contemporary political thought. This conceptiOD II

based in the notion that rational action assumes human collectirilila which imply, but do not guarantee, the conditions ofpossibiliry for'"

selection of encounters on the basis of relations which would '­

mutually enhancing. There are interesting points of overlap here ..

tween Spinoza and Oeleuze. Each conceives of thought 8S mobile .... dynamic and as a means of orientating and reorientating onescJfta. one's embodied historical and political specificity. We now have travelled some distance from those human scie--=­ that would defme bodies by genus and species, where these are under­ stood in terms of fonn and function. Plication. It is no longer a question of organs and functions, and o f .

transcendent Plane that can preside over that organization only by means of analogical relations and types of divergent development. It iI a question not of organization but of composition; not of developmetll or differentiation but of movement and rest, speed and slowness. I�

l As Deleuze has argued, from the Spinozist perspective an individua AloOl . will be defined along two axes: one kinetic, the other dynamic the kinetic axis we may say that an individual is composed of other bodies which have a characteristic relation, each to the other. of speed and slowness, relative states of motion and rest that maintain tbC

Through a Spit/ozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

167

we individual in existence as the same thing. A10ng the dynamic axis of that every individual is 'a degree of power', midst in the say y ma

other bodies which both affect, and are affected by, that individual. 17 To conceive of individuals in this manner is to adopt a Spinozist modesty concerning the knowledge that we have of the human body. It is to acknowledge, with him

(Ethics, III,

prop.

2), that we

(still) do

not know what the human body is capable of nor the limits of what it can do. It is, according to Deleuze, to see that Spinoza's ethics has little in common with rule-based moralities, rather it is concerned with

ethology.

Ethological Bodles 'Ethology is first of all the study of the relations of speed and slowness. of the capacities for affecting and being affected that characterize each thing.

'18

If we understand a rule-based morality as one which ad­

dresses itself to molar subjects, then ethology may be understood as offering an ethics of the molecular - a micropolitics concerned with the 'in-between' of subjects, with that which passes between them and which manifests the range of possible becomings. Clearly, an ethologi­ cal perspective will not privilege human being,

a prion',

over other

forms of being, since a 'body can be anythingj it can be an animal, a body of sounds, a mind or an ideaj it can be a linguistic corpus, a social body, a collectivity. '19 The distinctions between artifice and nature, human and non-human, will not be of interest on an ethological view since tbese terms too will be analysable only on an immanent plane where distinctions between one thing and the next amount to kinetic

or dynamic differences. The collapse of these distinctions raises inter­

esting questions concerning contemporary and future possibilities of hybrid life forms and body prostheses presented by technology. These new technologies present possibilities for making novel connections by producing assemblages capable of forging different extensive relations and new intensive capacities.20 An ethological evaluation will not select subjects, animals or per­ sons, categorized according to species and genus but rather will indi­ viduate according to principles of composability, sets of fast or slow

combinations, the range of affects and degrees of affectability. There are not two planes or two numerically distinct forms of being, rather there are qualitatively different modes of evaluating, embodying and

thinking being. Ethology does not select the organism'· - which De­ leuze understands as the judgemental organization of the organs - but

Moira Gatens

168

the body insofar as the body can be thought and lived as a dynalllic system of non-subjectified affects and powers. As such ethology does not disavow the organs but rather selects out the transcendental 0rga". ization afthe body's organs22 in favour of a principle of composition

or a harmonics of bodies and their exchanges. Ethology does not, how. ever, merely provide alternative descriptions of stable referents.

It

Spinozist will insist that [0 think differently is, by definition, to exilt differently: one's power of thinking is inseparable from one's power of being and vice versa.

Deleuzo-Spinozist Cartography Deleuze's reading of Spinoza posits a 'social cartography', a means

bJ

which to map individuals on a plane of immanence. The coordinates comprise two major axes whose points of intersection offer an anal,.. in terms of intensive capacities and extensive relations. In A TIunu4tt4

Plateaus, Deleuze and Guattari describe two elements of this graphy in the following terms:

catto-­

A body is not defined by the form that determines it nor as a determinate substance or subject nor by the organs it possesses or the functions it fulfills. On the plane of consistency,

and a latitude:

a body ;J ·rkfined only by a lantitwU

in other words the sum total of the material elementl

belonging to it under given relations of movement and rest, speed and slowness (longitude); the sum lotal of the intensive affects it is capable

of at a given power Ot degree of potential (latitude).n

The cartography suggested by Deleuze allows one to analyse the composition of any given individual in terms of its extensive paRI including its typical speeds and movements and in terms of its intent­

ive capacities including its typical affects and powers of action. /v1 organ may be seen as a body, made up of a great number of simpler bodies, that is, in tum, part of an individual human body.24 Suc:b modal existences may, in tum, constitute the extensive partS of broader social and political assemblages that will have their oWO characteristic intensive capacities. Thus, Deleuze's cartography oper-­ ales at a number of levels: it picks out, or individuates, bodies of aU kinds, including corporate bodies: for example, institutions of politics, law, and so on.2� These two axes together provide an immanent

appraisal of any given body rather than a taxonomic reading. That i. to say, this cartography maps any given thing in terms of the intet-

Through a Spinozn j Lens: Etholocy, Difference, Power na1

169

composition of its parts and its powers for affecting and being

affected. Here we encounter an important difference between ethology and biology: biology lays down rules and norms of behaviour and action, ",hereas ethology does not claim to know, in advance, what a body is capable of doing or becoming. Ethology picks out similarities and

differences in terms of a body's powers of affecting and being affected. What can this body do? what are its typical relations with other bodies

and what are its typical powers? what makes it weaker? what makes it

stronger? Oeleuze offers an example of the failure of taxonomic cate­ gorization to capture the salient differences between different sorts of n i dividual on this plane when he observes that the draft horse has morc in common with the ox than it has with the race horse.u There are many comparisons of this type in Spinoza's Ethics: the wise man compared with the fool, the rational person versus the merely obedient person, the citizen in comparison to the slave. In each case the one is distinguishable from the other in terms of their extensive parts and their relations, their differential powers and affects, and by their tendency to promote joyful or sad passions in themselves and in others. As Oeleuze observes, 'from this standpoint, their only dif­ ference is one of power'.27 Ethology does not impose a plane of organization but rather posits a plane of experimentation, a mapping of extensive relations and intens­ ive capacities that are mobile and dynamic. Relations of composability between beings on a plane of immanence are infinitely complicated since 'an animal, a thing, is never separable from its relations with the world'. Bodies of all sorts are in constant relation with other bodies; some of these relations are compatible and give rise to joyful affects which may in turn-increase the intensive capacity of a body; others are incompatible relations which give rise to sad or debilitating affects which at their worst may entirely destroy a body's integrity. A third Sort of relation occurs when twO bodies encounter one another in a non-reciprocal manner such that the more powerful body captures the less powerful. Such encounters enhance the capacities of the more pOwerful body at the expense of the powers of the weaker body. A paradigm case of a relation which enhances one body whilst destroying

the other, is eating. A paradigm case of the capture of the powers and

capacities of one sort of body by another is the historical relation between women and men in a complex of social and political assemb­

lages: those multiple bodies which taken together constitute the body Politic. Such relations between bodies are not constant. That which, at one time, is food for a body may, at another time, be poison.

170

Moira Gatens

Likewise, captured bodies may, over time, become stronger than their captors.28 As with Spinoz3, Deleuze's mapping of an immanent plane of eXiat� eoce rejects any notion of essence or finality. One cannot predi� merely from the form of a body, all the relations and affects of which, it is capable. There is no causal relation between the longitudinal lXia and the latitudinal axis. There is then no sense in the claim that I certain sort of extensive relation (or set of extensive relations) ca... intensive effects, or vice versa. Rather the extensive relations betweaa

the parts which constitute a body, or a more complex assemblage, oa. the longitudinal axis, is a parallel description of that which, on the latitudinal axis, is referred to as the intensive capacities of a body or ID. assemblage.

This Deleuzo-Spinozist cartography offers an imponam but un. developed perspective n i the context of contemporary theorizations of politics, sexual difference and power relations. The adoption of tbiI canography disallows any notion of dualism, reductive materialism, or idealism. From the perspective developed here, critiques of both .... torical materialism and political voluntarism may be developed. Hit­ torical materialist approaches mistake the material for a definilift cause of thought or consciousness, while political voluntarism milo­

takes consciousness for a causal site of material change. Each apoo proach may be seen to be tacidy endorsing an immateriaVmatc:dll distinction which in the context of political theory is figured u • struggle between an ideology of subjects on the one hand, and a scieace: of production on the other. In as much as ethology maps connectioat between bodies - without regard to their designated form or functioll - as well as the possibilities of their composability, it offers a � graphy of non-subjectified extensive relations and intensive capacitiel. Sex, gender, race, class, from this standpoint, appear as coagulatiODI of molecular combinations, strata of more or less stable configuratiODl that are held in place by a complex variety of practices that are at once discursive (for example, the human sciences), normative (for example, medical and legal 'codes') and subjectifying (subjects designat� ..

'woman', 'native', 'mentally ill').29 A theory of power developed from this perspective will concem itself with relations between bodies, their configurations within specifiC assemblages, and the dynamic of the interrelation of their intensive

capacities. This claim retums us to Foucault and to the themes with which this paper began. It is this immanent theory of power that informs Foucault's comments on 'sex' and 'sexuality' in The HiswryO/ Sexuality, Volume 1. Such an understanding may put to rest the coP�

Through a Spinozist uns: Ethology, Difference, Power

171

an cerns o f those critics who read Foucault's comments about 'sex a s

ginary point' and his analysis of sexuality in terms of 'bodies and iJTIa their powers and pleasures', as being 'outside' history and sociality

blind to a politics of sexual difference. On the contrary, Foucault and may be seen to hold a thoroughly Deleuzo-Spinozist view of power ry. Hence. sex is itself understood as both a product of, and and histo productive of, the practico-
it refuses that dualism which posits a plane of nature on the one hand, and a plane which transcends even as it organizes nature, on the other.

II is only when one adopts this dualism, characteristic of the human

sciences, that sex appears as an ahistorical 'truth' of the subject and

gender as the unfolding of all that follows from living this truth in

specific places and at specific times. The categories of sex and gender

may, alternatively, be thought as unstable but enduring strata of

organizations of molecular relations and dynamic affects. An imman­

ent, ethological appraisal of the manner in which bodies are composed may demonstrate the fragility of these strata. It shows how particular molar forms may break down even as new combinations of 'the most varied components (biochemical, behavioural, perceptive, hereditary,

acquired, improvised, social, etc.) can crystallize in assemblages that

respect neither the distinction between orders nor the hierarchy of forms'.lO

Tournier's 'Friday'

Fn'day is

a particulJarly appropriate starting-point from which to ex�

plore the ethological approach, not only because Deleuze himself

offers an extended discussion of this text/I but also because it pro� \fides a clear illustration of the thesis that individuals are never separ� able from their relations with the world. Toumier's novel is a reprise

of Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. Fn·day begins with a single survivor of a shipwreck, also called Robinson, who attempts to create human order and industry in his isolation. Like Defoe's Robinson, Toumier's hero 's isolation comes to an end, eventually, when he is joined by the

'native' whom he names Friday. However, here the similarities cease. lhe use to which economists put Defoe's Robinson Crusoe is well known: his Story functions as a model of homo economicus as well as a f�st-forward history of human rationality and industriousness. It vin­ dicates Eurocentric norms of production as the most rational and the

172

Moira Garens

fe/os to which all forms of life tend. But as Deleuu points OUt. the model already assumes that which it sets out to prove: '[o)n one

hancI.

the image of the origins presupposes that which it tries to generate (see, for example, all that Robinson has pulled from the wreck), Oa.

the other hand, the world which is reproduced on the basis of thiI that is, economic - world. ,. origin is the equivalent of the real -

Defoe's Robinson is thus an example of that moralism or cultUf'alitaa which seeks to uphold 'the irreducibility of the human order.'l) Such

moralism shares the juridical view of humanity and society insofar .. it is incapable of thinking a plane of immanence that is not already organized by transcendent norms.

Toumier, in contrast, is interested in experimenting with the idea of

what becomes of a man in a context where he is completely CUt 0« from both his typical relations with othen and his typical plea.urea, powers and capacities. In the course of the narrative it emerges m.r. in the absence of human society, Robinson's 'humanity' cannot be indefinitely maintained. Robinson, eventually, becomes somet:biat

other than 'human'. It is in this sense that one could call Friday . post-humanist novel. There is no form, substance, essence or subiecl

'underlying' Robinson which 'causes' his humanity. Rather a sped&..

cally human body persists only whilst it exists in extensive and in�

ive interrelations with those bodies which together constitute a h�

society. The process through which Robinson becomes 'elemeotll"

may be seen as the gradual unfolding and undoing of all his habirua_ affects. His dis-engagement from his culture and its norms may be seen as a literal decomposition of his past 'self'.

At first, Robinson shadows his Defoean doppelganger: he inYCIIII

many ploys and ingenious devices in his attempt to surround

bimMIf

with familiar bodies and recreate the conditions under which he woulll

be able to enjoy his typical affects. His first response to his situatiOll iI to try to make the island, now his sole reality, into a simulacrum ofme familiar. He introduces agriculture, builds a dwelling, constructS ' ciock,H devises a system of rules and laws as well as a penal code,­

and perfonns himself the various roles of time-keeper. tiller of the soil, governor, judge. and so on. From this point on the island is renamed from the original 'Island of Desolation' to 'Speranza' (island of hope)·

His sexed and gendered self also desires an 'other' who would cOJll· t plement his masculine affects and it is Speranza that become feminized by degrees and Robinson her 'husband'.

Without an 'other' to structure and organize the world as a hum(JII world Robinson turns to an imitation of the animals and plants. After observing that some flowers share the morphology of the female

Through a Spinozisr Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

173

omen of the insect which pollinates them, he wonders if there is some analogous plant with which he could enter into a similar utuallY enhancing relation. After a thorough search of the island he

abd ot

�

finds a fallen tree:

jtJhe trunk, which lay on the ground, ended in a fork of twO main branches . . . [t)he bark was smooth and warm, even downy at the point of the fork, where there was a small apenure lined with silky moss. IAfter some days hesitation, Robinson) . . . lay naked on the tree, clas­

l e his erect penis thruSt its way into that ping the trunk with his arms whi mossy crevice. A happy torpor engulfed him.16

But this is a mere tracing over of past affective relations which cannot be indefinitely maintained without his counterpan. Even the direct and fruitful fenilization of Speranza proves to be ultimately unsatis­ fying. Eventually, the simula.tion of human love and the imitation of the plants and animals cease entirely. Friday's arrival disrupts, and eventually, literally 'explodes' Robinson's attempts to 'civilize' the island. By the end of the novel almost all of Robinson's old habituated affects have undergone a complete metamorphosis. He is no longer a 'man', he refuses the option of returning to the society of men when it is presented to him by the only ship that comes to the island in twenty-eight years. Over this time, Robinson has become something entirely other than that which he was. He no longer yearns for the company of his fellows. His relations with the various bodies which populate Speranza have recomposed his body, changing both his speed and slowness, his rhythms of motion and rest, his affects and his powers. Robinson is now pan of a very different assemblage and looking back on his transformation, he observes: at no time has Friday inspired me with any sodomite desire . . . he came toO late, when my sexuality had already become eiemenml and was directed (oward Speranza. . . . My love affair with Speranza was still largely human in its nature; I fecundated her soil as though I were lying with a wife. (now,

however, Robinson's

love is entirely elemental, and he says:) My sky-love

floods me with a vital energy which endows me with strength during an entire day and night. If this is to be translated intO human language, l must

consider mysclffeminine and the bride of the sky. But that kind of anthro­ pomorphism is meaningless. The truth is that at the height to which Friday

and I have soared, difference of sex is left behind.)7

Robinson's metamorphosis, his becoming molecular, need not be Understood as a model or ideal to which anyone should aspire. Rather,

174

Moira Gatens

�

it is an attempt to map the capacities and the possibilities of a that has been removed from its usual contexts - what can this body do once its habitual frameworks and structures are lost? with what may . combine? what are its limits? Several feminist commentators have remarked that although rneta.. phon of femaleness subtend Tournier's story, women are entirelt absent. Alice Jardine offered an early and influential reading of De.. leuze and Guanari's notion of 'becoming-woman' which made consid­ erable use of Deleuze's paper on Tournier's Fn"day.)II She teI4 Deleuze and Guattari's plane of immanence, the plane of bec0nUaa. as opening a space that is ' . . . not only body-less, but less oftea explicitly genderized as well'.39 Jardine concluded her reading of Pr;. day by observing that '[t]here is no room for new becominp 01 women's bodies and their other desires in these creatively limited. monosexual, brotherly machines'.40

... �

Reading Deleuze through a Spinozist lens offers an alternative ,.. ing of the notion of 'becoming-woman' to that offered by JardiDe; First, I have endeavoured to show that the conception of ethology social cartography does not seek to do away with 'any concept body' nor to 'denaturalize the body,!l On the contrary, the plaDe immanence is the plane of nature and the becoming of the out-organs is not the destruction of the body but rather the or the expression of a body that is not subjected to a transcendental organization of the organs that serves to define organism in terms of forms and functions. Robinson's 'organless' it is 'organizationless', anorganic!2 Second, agree with Jardine that the privileging of 'becoming-woman' as key to the other becomings' is ultimately unconvincing, it does

��::�:

follow from this criticism that women 'might also be the first ID disappear' or to become 'obsolete'. Jardine can claim this only becaUli she has collapsed the qualitative distinction between the molar (woman) and the molecular (becoming-woman) which Deleuze aDd Guattari are extremely careful to drawY Insofar as Deleuze and Guattari uncritically incorporate sexual stereotypes into their work ­ stereotypes largely derived from psychoanalysis - they may le.ve themselves open to accusations of 'sexism'44 but not, I think, to

accusations of promoting a 'misogynist mode of thought.'4' More importantly, in terms of Deleuze's ethological reading and social cartography, there is no justification for privileging becominJ'" woman over any other becoming - this privilege merely attests to the exU'aordinary force which psychoanalysis once enjoyed in France. Even if one follows psychoanalytic prejudices and grants that in cbrO"'

Through a Spi,lOzist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

175

l1o1ogical time it is the girl's body that is the first to be folded into an org311ism defined by form and function - 'they "steal" her body first'4b nothin g about becoming would follow from this. There is no reason to aSsume that one must unfold the plane of organization according to the order of its initial folds. The time of becoming (Aeon), according to Deleuze himself, is not the time of history (Chronos) - one does not have to undo every knOt on the plane of organization in order to weave new paneros on the plane ofimmanence.47 What is edifying about Toumier's Story is that it shows that forms of human life, masculine sexuality, law and morality, cannot be under­ stood as necessary consequences of an underlying human ontology. Such fonns of life may be shown to be contingent upon a certain set of embodied relations and a field of intensive capacities which gener­ ates specific pleasures and powers. Robinson's changed conditions of existence do not cause his metamorphosis, rather they comprise the extensive and intensive axes of his transformation. The absence of an appropriately socialized 'other'43 opens Robinson's habituated human world - his molar identity - to other possible worlds. Deleuze's reading of Toumier posits the 'other' as that which ex­ presses or actualizes a possible world. Sociability is built on mistaking lhat which the other expresses for the thing expressed: in this way the 'olher' serves to structure and organize my perceptions of the world. For example: _

A frightened countenance is lhe expression of a frightening possible world, or of something frightening n i the world - something I do not yet sec. Let it be understood that the possible is not here an abstract category designating something which does not exist: the expressed possible world c�rtainly exists, but it docs not exist (actually) outside of that which expresses it. The terrified countenance bean no resemblance to the terrifying thing. It implicates it, it envelops it as something else, in a kind of torsion which situates what is expressed in the expressing. When I, in tum and for my part, grasp the reality of what the Other was expressing, I do nothing but explicate the Other, as I develop and realize the corresponding possible world. It is true that the Other already bestows a certain reality on the possibilities which he encompasses tspecially by J/Hoking. The other is the existence of the encompassed possible. Lallguagt is the reality of the poJSibie as such. The self is the development and the explication of what is possible, the process of its realization in the acrua1.4" -

Sociability is itself dependent upon the imagined necessity of the actual world, understood as the only possible actual, which functions

176

Moira Gatens

to arrest movement, to subject a multiplicity of possible Worlds the inevitability of this world. As Toumier observes: '(tlhat what others were: the possible obstinately passing for the real.'50 p •

�

�

Spinoza, ways of knowing both implicate and explicate ways Of that is, both the power of thought and the power of existing �

under different attributes, a mode of embodied life. Hence, partiCUll r ronns of sociability will express, through life, production and ... guage, a world that is organized by what that particular socia

bilk,

imagines or understands itself to be. How does it express in action, iD. thought, in language, the social and political organization of its vanou. affects?

Molar Assemblages Psychoanalytic discourse is a form of thought that organizes ... expresses human sociability in terms oCthe great binarisms of modeat­ icy: nature/civilization, woman/man. It has notoriously contributed. understanding sexual difference in terms of oppositions: phaUic/c:Do trated, active/passive. subject of desire/object of desire, maoa ... .,

subject position/feminine subject position. Freud, at least in one of moods, maintained that the feminine position is not truly as

until the litde girl transfers her erotogenic zone from the clitoris to

vagina, transfers her love from the mother to the father, and

giva ..

her wish for a penis in exchange for a baby from a father-subs�

Only then can we say that she has assumed her 'true sex' and hili

become a 'lime woman'. Of course, the boy does not 'become' JIll­

thing - rather, he remains in the position of the active. phallic• •ubjcd: of desire. What Freud does not note is that one ofthe consequenca tl

inserting the girl into a social assemblage which prescribes the �

placement of feminine erotogenicity from the clitoris to the vapo. II that the girVwoman thereby also forgoes the activity of determiDiDI

the speed/slowness, the relative motion/rest of her own sexual es:cite-' ment. As supposed 'natural' sheath for the penis, her 'feminine -­ uality' consists in adapting to, or passively accepting, the rhythmS, daI

'kinetics', of another body. Her molecular activity is subsumed under a molarity (nonnative womanhood) which is itself defined and 0r­ ganized by passivity, obedience and submission. This 'theft' of ber

body, according to Deleuze and Guattari, is achieved through the transcendental organization of her organs into a functional forua: receptacle for male desire and progeny which are now conveniendJ co-implicated.

Through a Spinozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

177

Two bodies which come into relation with each other bring twO sets extensive parts. If these two sets are to combine to form a more

f oomplex individual that would enhance the powers of each of its

parts then the kinetic particularity of each must be regis­ �omponent Anything else will amount to either incompatibility or the tered. of one of these bodies for the benefit of the other. This raises caprure a more

complex, and more interesting, question posed by ethology:

it is a question of knowing whether relations (and which ones?) can compound directly to form a new, more 'extensive' relation. or whether capacities can compound directly to constitute a more 'intense' capacity

or power. It is no longer a matter of utilizations or captures, but of sociabilities and communities. How do individuals enter into composi­

tion with one another in order to form a higher individual, ad infinitum? How can a being take another being into its world, but while preserving or respecting the other's own relations and world?'· Such questions have little to do with biology per se. There is no

anatomical or biological cause underlying the manner in which men and women relate sexually. There is a loose assemblage of male bodies (a 'fratemity" if you like) which tends to organize the male-female

encounter according to rhythms dictated by men. This organization of sexed encounters applies not only to sexuality and reproduction but also to economic production and language. Such a plane of organiza­ tion is not the

cause

of men's power over women, it

is

an immanent

expression of men's power. Although Freud partially escaped the heritage of dualism and biol­ ogical functionalism, he nevertheless infamously maintained that 'anatomy is destiny'. His views concerning the consequences of the anatomical distinction between the sexes are well-known. Suffice it to say here that they include the observation that sexual intercourse is possible independently of the consent of the female party and this biological 'fact' is seen to have not inconsequential implications for

women's

status in civilization. Psychoanalysis deals in molarities and

does not recognize the molar expression of sexual difference as the

aCtual expression of a possible world but rather sees sexual difference as a given that would require expression - within relatively fixed parameters - in all possible worlds. Some feminists have followed

�� ud's Fre

thought, arguing that rape is a constant possibility for the

rnale body and a constant fear of the female subject. The fact of . 1010gl cal difference (penis-bearer, vagina-bearer) is taken to provide

� Sufficient causal explanation for the relative passivity of women in

eterosexual encounters and for the phenomenon of rape.)l On their

178

Moira Garens

view it is our ver}' materiality that gives rise to such behaviours ultimately, it is the difference between sexed bodies that is at the o of the social and political power that men have over women.') Our political present certainly demands that we address violtQce towards women, including sexualized violence. This is to say that a juridical and molar politics is necessary. This is not, however, to .., that a molar politics is sufficient to address the complexity of 0Qr present. We need to engage with the sexual norms of OUT culture oa. two froms: the macropolitical and the micropolitical. We Deed to address both the plane which organizes our possibilities into molR political realities and experiment with micropolitical possibilities _ may be created on the plane of immanence. We do not have to chooee between either this or that: we may say feminist politics is thil .... that. If we return to the social cartography and the ethological per.. spective. quite different analyses of sexual difference and sexual tions may be expressed. For a start. body-compounds and their intra-relations cannot differences in intensive capacities, for example, possessing a does not cause the desire for, or the pleasure taken in. co",,";1dIl rape. Various arrangements of bodies. as well as ,the nonns organize their interrelation, denote some bodies as penetrable able) and others as impenetrable (indomitable). Such so,c;o,potida assemblages, or compositions. of bodies and their relations on extensive axis will parallel the typical affects and intensive capac:illl of individuals on the latitudinal axis. This is to say that what a can do is determined. at least in part. by its relations with other The degree of power possessed by any given body is dictated by relations with those which surround it. On an ethological read",, � individual is essentially penetrable or essentially impenetrable. power of one body to dominate another through penetration il del"

�

�

pendent on the total context of both. In this sense, an etholo.... perspective may posit sex as an expression of the organization cI bodies and their relations on the extensive axis and gender al • expression of the organization of the typical affects and powers of. body on the intensive axis. In other words. masculinity and feminiDitl may be read as clusters of specific affects and powers of bodies wbicb are organized around an exclusive binary form (male/female) throuP various complex assemblages: legal. medical, linguistic and so on. How would one think about normative heterosexuality and rape 011

this model? An adequate approach to this question requires sOJD' understanding of the total context in which such relations take pla The extensive and the intensive axes need to map not just the bodiC'

�

Through a Spinozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

179

f individuals conceived in humanist terms, but the larger bodies of human individuals constitute mere parts. ' hiC h

�

Order-Words and Pass-words Spinoza argues that each individual seeks out that which it imagines or h inks will increase its power of preserving itself. From this simple

t

maxim, it follows that an attempt to organize one's encounters in order to minimize bad, and maximize good, affects, leads human beings to sociabilicy. He argues that, of all the bodies we are likely to

encounter, it is those bodies which are like our own that will be most useful to us, most composable with our own, and most enhancing in our endeavour to maximize good affects (Ethics, IV, Appendix, IX).

Thus, human bodies are always pans of more complex bodies: the family, schools, institutions of all kinds. and ultimately, a political body. Such highly composite bodies invariably attempt to organize the plane of immanence into a plane of captured and stable forms of interrelation. Sociability assumes language and other signifying prac­ tices. The less adequate a form of sociability is, the more likely is it that it will be organized by signs of the imperative kind: commands which seek to capture affects into stable patterns of compliance and predictability. H To paraphrase Nietzsche, all complex bodies have commanding parts and obeying parts. Hence. complex bodies tend to

be organized so that the needs and desires of some pans of that body dominate the entire body. This is to say that the extensive parts and intensive capacities of some of the individuals that make up the political body may be incorporated or captured for the benefit of other i dividuals. The political body, or the state, is essentially an organiza­ n tion of capture.55 State capture may be seen at work in the political relations between the sexes. As the earlier example of the hermaphrodite Alexina shows, in the space of comparison created by the human sciences one cannot

take up a place in society unless one is designated 'male'

All to

or 'female.'

OUr social, civil and political institutions classify bodies according

this Strict exclusive disjunction. This classification decides what rnay be 'legitimately' extracted from any given body (reproductive

services, military service, types of labouring services, types of utter­ ance, and so on). Such a strict bifurcation functions to structure the Ittateriality of individual bodies, their speeds and slownesses, their relative motion and rest, into stable and reasonably predictable pat­

terns. This structuration, in

tum, is paralleled by the organization of

180

Moira Galens

the intensive capacities of such bodies. What can these bodies ..,.. What is their ordering in language? What are their avenues of ex� ion?'6 An analysis of normative (hetero)sexuality and rape needs to begin from an acknowledgement of this political organization or bodies and affects. Just as ethology refuses to consider biology lad production in terms which split the social field into transcenae. norms and that which they norm, so (00 will it evaluate languaae .. immanent terms. An ethological approach will map language DOt according to the linguists' apolitical principle which states that . guage is primarily about communication.'7 Rather, specific stateDle:lla­ and specific utterances will be analysed for the manner in which .., capture, transmit or engender affects. According to Oeleuze and Guattari '[a] type of statement CIIl evaluated only as a function of its pragmatic implications. in words, in relation to the implicit presuppositions, immanent incorporeal transformations it expresses and which introduce configurations of bodies'.�8 The pragmatic study of language will one that begins its analysis with the command-function: the word. The order-word does not only refer to e: � � � � ';: � � i:;� � � ; as 'sit down here', 'stOP that now'. It refers to any statement it functions to organize acts, affects, desires, states of affairs. In respect, statements presuppose and engender the imposition framework of intelligibility, a narrative, upon affects and statel affairs. This approach to language does not posit bodies on one and language on the other. Rather, bodies and states of affain !d interleaved with the 'collective assemblages of enu,,,i,at;onlultte... An immanent appraisal of language must show 'haw enunciatiOD itself implies collectiw assemblages'.�' What framework of intelligibility suppons the utterances nf ..... . subjects? According to Deleuze and Guattari, 'what comes an insertion of variously individuated statements, or an n i terlockinl af different subjects of enunciation, but a collective assemblage resultillif in the detennination of relative subjectificarion proceedings, or a"'" nations of individuality and their shifting distributions within diI' course.'60 What is the relation between the collective assembl'" which constitute the body politic and the sexual politics of languagel In a thought-provoking paper. Sharon Marcus has sketched a theOf1 and practice of rape prevention in which she claims that nonnatif' heterosexuality and rape can be understood to function as a langu'" - 'a gendered grammar of violence' - which aims to exclude 50utterances and actions and privilege others. She understands rape, dOl as an inevitable feature of male-female relations but rather as a 'spr

�

�

Through a Spinozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

lSI

cilic technique' through which sexual difference is created and main­ tained. Here, I am understanding Marcus' intervention as a micropol­

iOCal feminist strategy in contrast to the molar politics presented by theoristS such as.Dworkin or Mackinnon who tend to define women in termS of their 'violability'.61 MarcUs argues that 'social structures inscribe on men's and women's embodied selves and psyches the misogynist inequalities

which enable rape to occur'62 and she defines rape as 'a sexualized and gendered attack which imposes sexual difference along the lines of violence . Rape engenders a sexualized female body defined as a wound'Y This normative organization of male and female bodies posits femaleness (and femininity) as bodily (and affectively) con­ strained in a non-reciprocal (passive-active) relation of violence. As such, rape is one of the devices which serves to maintain a stable relation between differently sexed bodies along with a marked vari­ ation in degrees of power possessed by masculine and feminine sub­ jects. The threat of rape is often taken to be the paradigm expression ofthe power of a masculine subject to command a feminine subject to

obey, that is, to command the recognition of his attempt to impose his possible world on her as the only world, the real, inevitable world. Marcus refers to this as a 'rape script' which may be taken as a framework, a grid 0/ comprthensibiliry which we may feel impelled to use as a way of organizing and interpreting events and actions . . . [however} by defining rape as a scripted performance, we enable a gap between script and actress which can allow us to rewrite the script,

perhaps by refusing to take it seriously and trearing it as a farce, perhaps

by resisting the physical passivity which it directs us to adopt . . . We should not be required to resist to prove our innocence at some later

i ter­ judicial date, but· we should do so to serve our own immediate n ests.()4

In DIfference and Repetition, Deleuze remarks that Tournier's Friday

shows what it means to understand the 'other as expression, implica­ i ton and envelopment of a possible "world" ,,, and in The Logic of

Sense,

he points out that '[l]anguage is the reality of the possible as such' .66 Robinson's world is one in which the 'other' is absent and as

�uch the 'prohibition of transfonnation' (enantiomorphis) embedded In the order-word is also absent: he is 'free' to combine and compose

with other bodies without restriction - bar those engendered by ha­

bituation. The order-word expresses a possible world as if it were the only and inevitable world but it is an utterance that should be seen as an attempt to pass off the virtual as the actual. A command or a threat,

·82

Moira Gatens

by its very nature, is an appeal to another to obey or comply: this is tb e expansive dimension of the order-word." However, '(t1bere afC: P.....

words beneath the order-words'. 68 Pass-words 'transform the com�

tions of order into components of passage' ,69 The pass-word is iii 'liDe of flight' that transforms the plane of organization by acting creativet, rather than reacting to the command embedded in language. Creatioa

displaces the command function of language. it expresses a new actioo.

it caUs upon the 'commander' to react or flee because it shows his wodcl as one possible world rather than the world. A micropoliticai stratqr

will concern itself not only with the limitaliw mode of the order-word. _ that which captures - but also with its expansive dimension.70

The order-word and the command it embodies offer at least two options to those who would resist the command: flee or fight. But _

Marcus observes, it is masculine fear which most easily fits the '6. or-flight' model. Feminine fear is more often marked by a 'freeztna' which is consistent with an absolute prohibition on uansformation

:�'�:�

any kind, even fleeing. Perhaps Deleuze's notion of 'incorporeal

formation' derived from Stoic philosophy,71 coupled with th e " cal approach derived from Spinoza, may be useful here. A Jlb

of immanence does not posit bodies on one side and language on other. Words do not inscribe, etch or scrape the surface of bodies, express both the anempt to capture bodies in stable forms (the

tive dimension) and the possible, or virtual, becomin� of bodies expansive dimension). As Deleuze and Guanari argue,

(ijl is true thaI we IiIrc bringing in considerations of content as well

c:xpression. For even

II

8[ the moment when the two planes are mOlt

distinct, as the regime of bodies and the regime of signs

n i

an assemb­

lage, they are still in reciprocal presupposition. The: incorporeal traDI­

formation is the: expressed of order-words, but also the: attributes of

bodies.72

By positing the merely possible as the 'obstinate real' order-words aiaI

-

to materialize bodies as organizations of affects and powers, and alwaJI

with a prohibition on the transformation of that organization

•

prohibition against decomposing these relations and recomposiDI

others. Molar politics, which is based in the humanist category of 'dIC subject,' cannot address this materialization of our 'selves'. This is to say that molar politics - in this specific sense - is necessarily a politiCS • of the cure and of reparation (sometimes. reuibution) . This is MarcUS point - what can a feminist suategy offer by way of a politics of prevention? How can we 'think' or 'express' our being otherwise?

Through a SpilloziSl Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

183

My suggestion is that a Deleuzo-Spinozist approach can 'think.' n i

[C:rms other than the molar. It offers a way of mapping the plane of immanence that realizes and expresses other possible compositions

of the molecular. The materialization of men as aggressors/rapists and of women as passive/victims is, in part, achieved through language and

those assemblages which support certain unerances while disqual­

if ying others, (for example, the courtS, the police) . Marcus comments that:

[cJontrary to received wisdom, which imagines rape as a wordless, absolutely impersonal attack, most rapists take verbal initiatives with their targets in addition to deploying physical aggression. Many rapists initially engage their targets in friendly or threatening conversation; many speak a great deal during the rape and demand that the woman whom they rape either talk to them or recite parncular phr1lSes . . . Women's noncombative responses to rapists often derive as much from the self-defeating rules which govern polite, empathetic feminine con­ versation as they do from explicit fear. To prevent rape, women must resist self-defeating notions of polite feminine speech as well as develop physical self-defense tactics.7l

Resisting feminine speech is a tactic of self-defence - there are not two transformations here but one that is expressed in double.

Any plane of organization selects possibles from the plane of im­

manence and attempts to pass off these possibles as actual - the only

possible actual. Pass-words unlock the order-word and in so doing open the plane of immanence to experimentation. Pass-words rupture

the habitual organization of a body's powers and capacities and ex­

press new powers of affecting and being affected. Ethology may map bodies longitudinally or latitudinally, extensively or intensively, kine­ tically or dynamically, provided that the disjunction is not read as

eXclusive: rather it is the inclusive 'or' of Spinoza's God or Nature (Deus sive Natura) .

NOTES

An earlier version of this essay was presented at 'The Body of Gender. KOrper. Geschlcchter. Identitllten'. Offents Kuhurhaus, Linz, Austria,

1994,

and

PUblished in German as 'Ethologiscbe KOrper: Geschlecht als Macht und Arfekt,' in The &dy 0/ Gender. K�rptr. Ge$chltchltr. Idmtirllltn, ed. Marie­ Luise Angerer, Wien: Passagen Verlag, 1995. I would like to thank Paul Patton for his very helpful comments on this version. I am especially grateful

Moira Gatens

184

to Aurelia Annstrong, who not only assisted in preparing this paper for pubU. cation but also asked me some very difficult questions, forcing me to refonn... late and, I hope. sharpen my understanding of ethology and canography. G. De1euze,

Spincza: Practical Philosophy, trans. R. Hurley, San Fr&ncj.

seo: City Light Books, 1988, p. 125. 2

M. Foucault,

The Order of Things: An Archaeology o/the Human Sc�

London: Tavistock, 1970, p. 355.

The Order o/ Things. p. 357

3

Foucault,

4

P. Macherey, 'Towards a natural hislOry of nonns',

Michel FOUcttIC Philosopher, trans. T. Armstrong, New York: Harvester Wheatsbeaf.

5

See M. Foucault,

1992, p. 187.

Herculine Barbin, trans. R. McDougall, New YorIt:

Pantheon, 1980, esp. pp. 1 3 1-2, 139, 143.

6

See Judith Butler's commems on the reception ofher text Gender Trouble

Feminism and the Subversion ojIdentity, New York: Routledge, 1990, in J.

Butler, 'Gender as Performance: An Interview with Judith Butler', �

7 8

cal Philosophy, no. 67, 1994; see also J. Butler, Bodies that Marter: e m ,. Dscursive i Limiu oj "Sex", New York: Routledge, 1993. Butler, Bodies that Matter, p. 12. G. Deleuze and F. Guattari, What Is Philosophy?, trans. H. Tom'..... , and G. Burchell, New York: Columbia University Press,

9

See G. Ddeuze, respectively.

10

II

Expressionism in Philosophy: Spinoza, trans. M. j"", Ihi .. What s i Philosophy?,

New York: Zone Books, 1992, p. I I and

What Is Philosophy?, p . 60. Ibid., p. 37.

12

See Ddeuze's preface t o Antonio Negri's L 'anomalie sauvage: PuissanaM pouwir chez Spitl()za, translated from the Italian by F. Matheron, PariI:

13

G . Deleuze and C . Pamel,

Presses Univenilaires de France, 1982.

Dialogues, trans. H. Tomlinson and B . H.""

ber;am, New York: Columbia Univenity Press, 1987, pp. 1 32-3. 14

15

See B. Spinoza, Ethics in

The Collected Works ojSpinoza, tnlns. E. Curley.

New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1985, Part II, Lemma on the Body. All funher references in main text.

H. Jonas, 'Spinoza and the Theory of Organism, Spinoza: A CollectUm " Critical Essays, ed. M. Grene, Notre Dame Indiana: Univenity of Notre •

Dame Press, 1979, p. 2 7 1 . G . Deleuze and F . Guattari, A

16

Thousa"d Pfateaus: Capitalism and Schiz4.­ phrenia, trans. B. Massumi, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Prest. 1987, p. 255; see also G. Deleuze, Difference a'id Repetition, tnlns. P.

17

Spi'loza: ?taCtual Philosophy, pp. 27, 123.

Patton, New York: Columbia Univenity Press, 1994, p. 40f. 18

Ibid., p. 125.

19

Ibid., p. 127.

Through a Spinozist Lens: Erhology, Difference, Power

20

21

22 23 24

25 26 27

28

29

185

See D. Haraway, PrimaTe Visions: Gendn, Rate and Naturr: in the Modern World 0/ Science, New York: Routledge, 1989; see also C. Stivale, 'MillefPunksiCyberlPlateaus: Science Fiction and Deleuzo-Guattarian Becomings', Substan" 20:3, no. 66 (Winter 1991). Sel! A Thousand Prateaus, p. 159: 'The organism . . . is a substratum on the BwO, in other words, a phenomenon of accumulation, coagulation. and sedimentation that, in orde.r to extract useful labour from the BwO. imposes upon it forms, functions, bonds, dominant and hierarchized organizations, organized transcendencies.· See also p. 232. For this reason, I fUld the term 'body-without-organs' (BwO) misleading and the source of many misinterpretalions - a preferable term may be 'bOdy-without-organized-organs' (BwOO). A Thousand Plateaus, p. 260. See Expreuionism in Philosophy, Part III. For an elaboration ofthese themes, see M. Gatens, Imaginary Bodw: Erhia, PowerandCorporuUily, London: Routledge. 1996, esp. chs 8 and 9. See Dialogues, p. 60; see also Spinoza: PracritaJ Philosophy, p. J 24. Spinoza: Practital Philosophy, p. 102. An ethological reading of Nietzsche's The Genealogy 0/ Morals may posit the triumph of slave moralities in precisely these terms. The study of ethology on a plane ofimmanence may provide a basis from which to rethink the pOlitical in a non-hegemonic, non-normative way which will refrain from reducing differences to relations of subordination and domination. Rosi Braidoni has opened up this avenue of feminist research n i a number of excellent papers. See especially 'Towards a New Nomadism: Feminist Deleuzian Tracks; or, Metaphysics and Metabo­ lism' in Gilles Deleuze and the Theater 0/Philosophy, ed. C. V. Boundas and D. Olkowski, New York: Routledge, 1 994, where Braidotti comments on 'rhizomatic' political connections. This work is an important contribu­ tion to the development of feminist theorizations of the connections between race, class, sexual preference and gender. See also R. Braidotti, Nomadi c Subjects: Embodiment and Sexual Di/ltrence in Contemporary Fem­

New York: Columbia University Press, 1994, where a num­ ber of papers on Deleuze and feminism are reprinted. A Thousand Plateaus, p. 336. See G. Deleuze, 'Michel Toumier and the World Without Othen', appendix to The Logil: 0/ Sense, trans. M. Lester with C. Stivale, ed. C. V. Boundas, London: The Athlone Press, 1990, pp. 301-20. The Logic 0/ Sense. pp. 302-3, emphasis in original. See A Thousand Plateaus, p. 273. M. Tournier, Friday, trans. N. Denny, New York: Pantheon Books, 1969, p. 65. Tournier, Friday, p. 69r. Ibid., p. 1 1 5. Ibid., pp. 2 1 1-12. inist Theory,

30

]J

32 33

34

35 36

37

Moira Galens

186

Gynesis: Ccmfigurolions 0/ Woman and Motkmity, Ithaca: COl\. ?ell Universi.ty Press, 1985 .. Rosi Braidoni in Towards a Ne� NoJtlld.. Ism,, and Ehzabeth Grosz In 'A Thousand Tmy Sexes: Femmism IIIcI Rhizomatics' refer to jardine's critique in their assessment of the rele9. ance of Deleuze to re�inist politics. Both papers appear n i Gilles D� and the Theater of PhIlosophy, cd. C. V. Boundas and D. Olkowski, Nnr York: Routledge, 1994. 39 Jardine, Gynesis, p. 209. 40 Ibid., p. 223. 4 1 Ibid., p. 2 1 1 . 42 As De1euze and Guattari make dear, it is 'not a matter of empt)'ina the organs but of dismantling the organization'. A Thousand Piaceaw, pp.

38

A. Jardine,

:

160- 1 . 43 See A Thousand Pialeaus, p. 276. 44 I am here in sympathy wjlh Brian Massumi's reading of 45

46 47 48

49 50 51 52

'�::�:::

woman' in A User's Guide to Capitalism and Schizophrenia, ( Mass. and London: MIT Press, 1992, p. 89. On this panicular issue, I am in disagreement with Rosi Braidotti term of Dissonance, trans. E. Guild, Cambridge: Polity Press, 1991). p. 123. A Thousand Plateaus, p. 276. This is most evident in What h Philosophyt, Ch. 2, esp. pp. also, A Thousand Piateaus, pp. 262-3. Friday is an 'other' but he arrives 'too late', long after Robinson's metamorphoses have begun, and so cannot provide the Structurina: cion of the 'other'. Besides, even if he had arrived earlier, Friday is simply an 'other', he is 'wholly other' which reduces Robinson's 0,,1k'" to two: the colonizing impulse (attempt to make Friday accept 50n's habituated world as the world) or become-native. The Logic ofSense, p. 307, emphasis added. Friday, p. 220. Spinoza: Prcutical Philosophy, p . 126. Sec S. Brownmiller, Agaimt Our Will: Men, Women and Rape, New yodc Simon and Schuster, 1975; see also A. Dworkin, Intercourse, Londoa: Secker and Warburg, 1987; see also C. Mackinnon, 'Sexuality, Po� graphy and Method: "Pleasure Under Patriarchy" ', Ethics, no. 99,

1989. 53 For example, sec Carole Pateman's account of the role played by 54 55

the

sexual contract in determining women's civil and political status in T1tI Sexual Conrract, Cambridge: Polity Press, 1988, esp. ch. 4. Sec B. Spinoza, A Theologico-Political Treatise, in Works ofSpinoza, traDL R. H. Elwes, New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1951. Sec A Thousand Pla/eaus, pp. 424, 444; see also P. Pauon, 'Metamorpho­ Logic: Bodies and Powers in "A Thousand Plateaus ', Journal of till ..

British Socieryfor Phenomenology, vol. 25, no. 2, 1994, p. 1 62.

Through a Spinozist Lens: Ethology, Difference, Power

56

1 87

See Exprmionism in Philosophy, p. 269: 'The Elhics judges feelings, con­

duct and intentions by relating them, not to transcendent values, but [0 modes of existence they presuppose or m i ply: there are things one cannot do or even say, believe, feel, think, unless one is weak, enslaved, impo­ [cnt; and other things one cannot do feel and so on, unless one is free or

strong. A method oj explanation by mmanent i modes oj existence thus re­ places the recourse to transcendent values. The question in each case:

57 58 59 60 61

Does, say, this feeling, increase our power of action or not? Does it help us come into full possession of that power?' 'Language is neither infonnational nor communicational. It is not the communication of language but something quite different: the trans­ mission of order-words.' A Thousand Plateaus, p. 79. {bid., p. 83. Ibid., p. 80.

Ibid. However. I stress again that these twO forms of political intervention should not be seen as either/or options - both are necessary to address the present.

62

S. Marcus, 'Fighting Bodies, Fighting Words: A Theory and Politics of i Theorize the Political, ed. J. Butler and J. W. Rape Prevention', Feminsu Scott, New York: Routledge, 1992, p. 391. Although Marcus's paper served as 'inspiration' for this section, she does not refer to Deleuze and she may well not agree with my argument.

63

Marcus, 'Fighting Bodies, Fighting Words', p. 397.

64

Ibid., pp. 391-2.

65

Difference a"d &petition, p. 332. The LcJgic oj Sense, p. 307.

66 67

68

See Grisham's analysis of Kafka's story, 'A Repon to An Academy', in T. Grisham, 'linguistics as an Indiscipline: Deleuze and Guattari's Pragma­ tics', Substance, 20:3 66 (Winter, 1991), pp. 46-7. A Thousand Plateaus, p. 1 10.

69

Ibid.

70

See 'Unguistics as an Indiscipline'. p. 46.

71 72 73

See The Logic oj Sense, esp. pp. 61-2, 169-71, 183-4. A Thousand Plateaus, p. 108. Marcus, 'Fighting Bodies, Fighting Words', p. 389.

10

Six Notes on the Percept (On the Relation between the Critical and the Clinical) -

Franfois Zourabichvili

To the memory of Gherasim Luea

Deleuze's texts have. in the last few years, become shoner, more abrupt, more condensed, leaving many a hurried reader perplexed, with a disturbing sense of incomprehensible dogmatism tinged willa mysticism. Whoever reads like an 'amorous hound" I however,

knOWI

and feels that it is nothing oftbe son, and that Deleuze has never heeD

so precise, so logical, so argumentational (although thought, grappliq

with forces of another nature, may not locate its meaning in argumCll­ tation alone: a logic that affirms exteriority as such necessarily ....

sumes an irrational position where thought is no longer the master of

what it thinks - which is utterly distinct from illogicality) . In W'hatir Philosophy? and Critique et clirliqu£, each concept, whether stated SU�

cinctly or propounded in fragments, is supported by a small number of discretely posited logical traits that must be located in the texts, and which are in fact to be found there. whether close at hand or far afield. i a This is particularly the case with the percept ('vision' or 'hearing' n highly specialized sense), the nature of which we here seek to compre-­ hend in its relations with the affect, creation and health. At first sight, due to its very novelty, the reader is hard put to see how the percept differs from a simple perception, while its ethical application may pasS unnoticed.

Six Notes on the Percept

189

Perceiving and Evaluating: the Imperceptible

1

}.Jerman Melville's Captain Ahab saw the quadrant: not simply its equip­ mental aspect nor even its function (taking a bearing); rather he saw the relation between this function and life, he evaluated the quadrant from the vitalist point of view. What is the value of the quadrant? but what after all canst thou do, but tell the poor, pitiful point, where thou thysclfhappenest to be on this wide planet, and the hand that holds (MD 471)1 thee . . . Curse thee, thou vain toy .

.

.

The life, or the possibility of life, encompassed by the quadrant and which the quadrant expresses, is to take a bearing: to tell me where I am (present) . Even to tell me where

I am going (future) would not be

sufficient; it would doubtless be better, and Ahab may say that he leaves this to the compass; but a compass fixed on Moby Dick, rather than on 'north', is required. A truly vitalist knowledge (savoir] would

answer the following question: where, at this precise instant, is the other to which I am related, which I pursue and in relation to which

my life is played out (becoming)? Thou sea-mark! thou high and mighty pilot! thou tellest me truly where

I om

-

but canst thou cast the least hint where I shoU be? Or canst thou

tell where some other thing besides me

is this moment living? Where is

Moby Dick? This instant thou must be eyeing him. (MD 470)

The 'where shall I be', or 'where I am going' is ambiguous: not only my current route, wjlich is perhaps the wrong one in relation to the goal which is assigned me; but where is precisely that route called Moby Dick leading, and what is its value? In the final analysis, what the quadrant lacks is to be an evaluative instrument, a compass of life, Once it is said that 'time is out of joint (cardo) ', and that life's possi­ bilities are not judged according to the cardinal points. In actual fact a Storm blows up. unsettling the compass and effacing the cardinal points; so Ahab builds another, but what exactly does this one indi­ cate? In what sense can Ahab be called 'lord over the level lodestone'? Because the true East indicated by the new compass is at the same time the direction of Moby Dick, from whence the storm also issues, as if the lightning were a sign sent out by the great sperm-whale: Ahab, magnetically drawn to Moby Dick, commands himself and is thus in COntrol of the lodestone.

190

Fran{:ois ZourabichtJili

'Here!' cried Starbuck, seizing Stubb by the shoulder and pointing hit hand towards the weather bow, 'markest thou not that the gale cornCl from eastward, the very course: Ahab is to run for Moby Dicit?, (MD

473) 'Men,' said he. steadily turning upon the crew, as the mate handed him the things he had demanded, 'my men. the thunder turned old Ahab',

needles; but out of this bit of steel Ahab can make one of his own,

that

will point as true as any . . . 'Look ye, for yourselves, if Ahab bt: not lord

oCthe level lodestone! the sun is East. and thar compass swean it!'

(MD

486-7) What is a percept? Deleuze says: '8 perception in becoming' (CC 1 12). Not that the perception is of a moving object, for it is IDJ perception that changes, my power of perceiving rather than the W8J I perceive the object. In what sense, then, does it change? is seeing, what is being seen? To see is to pOlentialize sight, to it to a second power, to make sight itself powerful, while in hs o,'di ... " employment it is separatedjrom what it can do. How does sight its power when it becomes vision, or percept? When one sees invisible, the imperceptible, or when what cannot be seen is pe.eei,..r, the invisible enveloped in what one sees, not as a hidden beyond appearance, but animating sight itself from within ap,,.. , .. ance, or what one sees. To avoid any arbitrariness in this idea, that it really is a matter of what one sees, rather than of tacking OntO what one sees things that come from elsewhere, with a second sight, with a third eye, to the nth power,' it is that the invisible seen is the n i visible o/ the visible itself, the 'beinl the sensible' (DR 236), or that of which the phenomenon is the manifestation, or, still more rigorously, the phenomenon itself ..

,�:;::��

manifestation (since it is only the fixed image of representation givet us the illusion that the invisible exists alongside the visible, inde­ pendently of it, while haunting it, enveloping itself and unraveIJ. ing within it, a fold of the visible itself: the invisible as the ground at fold of the visible itself, that without which nothing would ever be seen). So what is this immanent invisible, what is its narure, what is it that is invisible and yet must be seen, cannot but be seen (vidend!lm)? To see is to see/orees, 'to make visible those forces that are not visible' (FB 39), to grasp the visible as it appears, while the forces that are manifest within it have not yet deserted it. 'The object itself is force, the expression of a force.'

Six Note! on the Percept

191

A t this point, a confrontation with phenomenology appears t o be necessary, since the latter has already turned, on this side of the split, towards the idea of flesh. In certain respects, subject-object Deleuze's proximity to the final pages of Merleau-Ponty's The Visible

and {he Invisible is disturbing.· However, Deleuze is less concerned to fix an essence of the appearing of things, than with bringing out and differentiating the

non-organic life

that they involve. When Deleuze

says that it is the landscape that sees, this does not mean the same as it does in Merleau-Ponty, although both have it in common that they take seriously the painter's innermost conviction: Deleuze considers that the notion of 'flesh' does not account for the reversibility of the sensing and the sensed, or, in his own terms, their indiscernability. Reversibility presupposes an underlying instance - becoming or the differentiation of forces - once it is understood that force exists only relationally, and that this relation, which has a non-dialectical nature, locks terms that are external to each other and yet nevenheless related, into a struggle, so that they may from now on be assimilated to pointS

of view. Merleau-Ponty readily admits that 'the proper essence of the visible is to have a layer of invisibility', and that this layer is itself differentiated. But he recognizes no relations of forces in this, nor a distance between points of view, so the differentiation remains qualita­ tive, rather than intensive and evaluative: such that

if this invisible is

indeed life, it does not, as with the percept, resonate with the question

'which

life?'S

The question of knowing whether the life involved here is only 'for

' us , and if the concepts of becoming, affect and percept immediately

incur the reproach of anthropomorphism, seemed to be badly posed. 'Our' interpretation is rightly concerned with the very force of exist­ ence of things, the dynamism of space and time that nsists i within them and that they affirm, given what they are and the manner

in

which they exist. The force resonating in us and mixed with our own lives is not anthropomorphism, but the very sign of becoming: things,

in their manner of existence, resonate in us, as a manner for us to exist,

even if this means, as Oeleuze n i sistently adds, that things conversely become-other, that is, pure sensation (see, for example, ATP ch. 10). We ourselves become-flower, become-whale: there is obviously no roo m to suppose this is life as it is experienced by the flower or the Whale (to the reproach of anthropomorphism, we can only respond:

yes, of course; but this is not the problem . . . ); it is the resonance of their life in our own, becoming one of its possibilities, one of its levels.

Ibis gives us the right to say, literally that.

Franfois Zourabichvili

192 'I

have tasted the life of the flower, the whale.' And sometimes

he

would forget himself so much in contemplating the beast that he really believed he had, for a moment, sensed the being.6

t� of exstenCl i

of such .

Thus seeing, in the sense of vision and not simply sight, is interpreti", and waluating. It is to perceive and estimate the forces in what we s� [0 take possession of them for an instant, to live them, to test them on oneself (NPh 4) . This is called becoming, a test which is necessarilJ '[00 much for me'} since we do not see if we remain a subject opposite the object, maintaining its reserve, its personal feelings and its memories, and living what it sees only in the manner of a reminder or a ghost: the seer becomes what he sees, he takes on the internal motioa of what he sees, he becomes the very soul aCthe picture; the seer or the visionary has passed into the picture, which is a case ofsaying that 'the landscape sees' (WP 169). What is a percept? A critical-clinical perception. Critical because we discern a force in it, a panicular type of force. and clinical because we evaluate the declination of this force, its inclination, its ability to fold. or unfold itself (D 119-20). Funher, without vision there is no villi diagnosis, nor without the percept is there an artist who could be bodl surgeon and patient at the same time, thereby gaining his health, in me non-organic sense. Or the percept is a monster, as defined by Deleuze: the visible still attached to the invisible, form still mixed with the unformed. In any case, it is literally an overwhelming spectacle: the seer does not re-emerge from it identical to his former self, he hu learned, he is a becoming: 'Nor has this thy whale sunwards turned bit dying head, and then gone round again, without a lesson to me' (MD 468). Health according to Deleuze is inseparable from this vital edu­ cation. Indeed, the irreversible mutation that has been acheived it clearly shown when Ahab. in a fit of abandon, tramples the quadrant underfoot. The entirety of Moby Dick is marked by this growinl potentialization: we do not recover from what we have seen, we do not recover from it at all without 'our eyes reddened, our eardrums bunt' (ee 14). Artists are like philosophers in this respect, they are often frail and

in

weak health. This is not due, however, to their diseases and their

neuroses, but rather because they have seen in life something tOO much for anyone, too much for them, something that has left the discrete mark of death upon them. But this something is also the source or the breath that makes them live through the diseases of lived experience (what Nietzsche calls health).

(CC 163)

Six Nous or! the Percept 2

193

Another Example

Let'S confirm this first approach with one of the most beautiful pas­

sages from Moby Dick: Ahab in the grip of the spectacle of the dying whale (not, however. the one he seeks). The example speaks for itself. so we will be content merely to provide brief. interpolated remarks. It was far down in the afternoon {an indefmite. intermediary time, strangely static, while the day's ending and the onset of the night become indiscernable: the auspicious time of the percept.}; and when all the spearings of the crimson fight were done {first notation of the percept; the sun merged with the whale: I and floating in the lovely sunset sea and sky, sun and whale both stilly died together; then, such a sweemess and such plaintiveness, such n i wreathing orisons curled up in that rosy air, that it almost seemed as if far over from the deep green convent valleys of the Manilla isles, the Spanish land-breeze, wantonly turned sailor, had gone to sea, freighted with these vesper hymns. Soothed again, but only soothed to a deeper gloom, Ahab, who had stemed off from the whale, sat intently watching his fmal wanings from the now tranquil boat. (Ordinary, informative perception or "cliche":) For that strange spectacle observable in all sperm whales when dying ­ the turning sunwards of the head, and so expiring - that strange spec­ tacle, beheld of such a placid evening, somehow to Ahab conveyed a wondrousness unknown before. (The same spectacle persists, sending out rhythms and potentialities [puissances), as Ahab sees and is filled with what he contemplates. The percept has four terms: whale, sun, Ahab and ocean, each of which passes into the others or mutually envelop each other} 'He turns and turns him to it, - how slowly, but how steadfastly, his homage-rendering and invoking brow, with his last dying motions. He too worships fire; most faithful, broad, baronial vassal of the sunl - Oh that these too-favouring eyes should see these loa-favouring sights. I The percept now crosses another threshold. The oceanic plane of vision, too strong and too large for man, humbles everyday affection and frees the affect:} Look! here, far water-locked; beyond all hum of human weal or woe; in these most candid and impanial seas; where to traditions 110 rocks furnish tablets; where for long Chinese ages, the billows have still rolled on speechless and unspoken to, as stars that shine UpOIl the Niger's unknown source; here, tOO, life dies sunwards full of faith; but see! no sooner dead, than death whirls round the corpse, and it heads Some other way. 'Oh thou dark Hindoo half of nature, who of drowned bones hast builded thy separate throne somewhere in the hean of these unverdured seaSi thou art an infidel, thou queen, and tOO truly speakest to me in the

Fran�oi$ Zourabichvili

19 4

wide-slaughtering Typhoon, and the hushed burial of its after calm. Nor has this thy whale sunwards turned his dying head, and then gone round again, without a lesson [0 me. {The spectacle of forces has passed into Ahab himself, as the affect. Conversely, moreover, Ahab is no longet dissociable from what he sees: } trebly hooped and welded hip of power! high aspiring, rainbowed jet! - In vain, oh whale, dost thou seek interccdings with yon all-quickening sun, that only calls forth life, but gives it nO( again. Yet dost thou, darker half, rock me with • prouder, if a darker faith. All thy unnamable imminglings float beneath me here; I am buoyed by breaths of once living things, exhaled as air, but water now. 'Then hail, for ever hail, 0 sea, in whose eternal tossinp the wild fowl finds his only rest. Born of eanh, yet suckled by the sea; though hill and valley mothered me, ye billows afe my fostef�brothen!' (MD 467-8).

'Db,

Dh,

But we have still to understand why the vision of death is the percept

par excellence. 'Why is every event a kind of plague, war, wound death?' (LS 148). 3

The Plane of intimate exteriority

What is a literary landscape? What is the function of the spatial temporal, geographical and atmospheric 'sening' of the action? Is interest solely within a symbolic or metaphorical order?

:�:=

Deleuze undenakes a general critique of metaphor, and hi; 1 becoming (or the indissociability of percept and affect) is within this problematic. The Logic of Sense prepares the t�

ground from which the critique develops: sense is inseparable from I

play of resonances and consequently, from a coupling, and from me

displacement that ensues. Sense emerges only from the coni,,"ctioo, oj at least two heterogeneous series. That is to say that the 'transport" invoked in the metaphoric operation is actually pan constitutive,

part reciprocal. The literal-figurative duality is therefore doubly

called into question, because neither term exists apan from the other, or at least one other; and because, consequently, there call be no primacy of one term over the other. The literal is unattainable, sense is originally ambiguous, unattributable, 'a tangled tale', a. Deleuze says, taking a tide from Lewis Carroll. The concept of metaphor therefore invens the real distribution of the original and the derivative; transfer does not presuppose primary signification' between which it becomes established, rather, transfer itself is origi� nary.

Six Notes on the Percept

195

Yet it does not suffice to say that this must be positively thought through, nor that the logic of originary transport must be set forth: the

latter cannot be assumed because it really requires that the terms are somehow pre-existent (a relation cannot without self-contradiction absolutely precede what it joins) . Deleuze therefore seeks the concept of a strict contemporaneousness of terms and relations, or a plurality of tenns that are only relationally conceivable. This is so with the

concept of forces: 'Every force is thus essentially related to another force. The being of force is plural, it would be absolutely absurd to think about force in the singular' (NPh 6). It is not enough, however, to invoke forces; or rather, the new logic does not function unless it

introduces a second instance, unless it projects the relation of forces inlO an unformed or plastic element, ceaselessly self-differentiating or being differentiated: Life. Deleuze constructs the concept of life on the

basis of Bergson (Duration) and Nietzsche (the Will-ta-Power). If the relation of two forces induces a resonance, in which sense consists, it is because each force, in a certain way, takes up or repeats the other, at another level. Each one envelops a 'possibility of life', expresses a particular point of view on life, differentiates, in its own way, the indeterminate element of Life and, in its own way, resolves the prob­ lem of 'living'. This unformed or plastic element, which Deleuze identifies as the real transcendental field, thus obeys a logic of internal

difference or repecz'tion at a distance: there is no identity to Life, nor is mere Life in general, there are only differentiated ways of living (and ways of thinking that envelop ways of living). Life exists only in being differentiated, it is internal difference, or that which affirms itself only in differing from itself, ceaselessly repeating itself at various levels. Deleuze is able to propound a type of relation in which the terms communicate by their very difference (and not by at least a minimal resemblance),7 only in accordance with this concept, by which 'to differ' means 'to repeat', according to which the different elements [Ies

d1fferemsj, constituting the cases for the differential determination of one and the same element, indeterminate in itself, repeat the same question at various levels, and thus mutually repeat each other at a distance, reappropriating each other, every time from a different point of view . Sense is this repetition that never returns to the same, or that treats the Same as Difference, as the object of a differend, a problem, or

dissenSllS, More precisely, as the distance that resonates when

different forces enter into relation, Sense is Life become perspectival, or the resonance of perspectives on life, flashpoints of evaluation.

The transcendental field becomes deeper, and with Deleuze, tran­ Scendental philosophy gains a depth of field, tracing with him the

196

Fran,ois Zourabichvili

underlying path of Life that connects planes like so many per­ spectives.1 Every isolated signification therefore refers in principle to a primary

intensive position, the force or point of view of which it is only the

mutilated trace, since it is abstracted from the relation in the midst of which it exerts itself as force and as point of view. Sense dOes not spring fr9m a combination of significations; it only flares up on ac­

count of a disjunctive synthess i of the existential points of view presup. posed by these significations. whose intensity they dim by projectina: them into the objective-explicit in the homogeneous field of repre-. sentation. Points of view are not disjoined without a spark ofsense. To start from explicit primary significations, so as to place them in tela. tion to the relation of the literal and the figurative, is once again to depotentialize or to separate sense from what it can do, and to be deprived of understanding how the transport is possible; that is, how it constitutes sense actually creating itself, rather than the approxima. tion of an ineffable but literal sense. Against the concept of metaphor and the interpretative logic that goes with it, Deleuze invokes the

literality of becoming: sense belongs to the order of effects, and

a;.

pression is a production, not something 'from the depths' or a 6gura. tion.'

From now on, the relation to the landscape is no longer that of aD

autonomous and pre-existent inner life and an independent external

reality supposed to reflect this life. The landscape is an inner experi­ ence rather than the occasion of an echo; not the redundancy of lived

experience, but the very element of a 'passage of life'. The landscape does not return me to myself: it involves me in a becoming where the

subject is no longer coextensive with itself, where the subjective form is inadequate when faced with the unformedness of becoming. I DO longer contain myself, nor can I recover myself in the coherence of. Self or Ego. Similarly, a character in a novel is no longer extemally

related to what he sees or feels. To live a landscape: one is no longer

in front of it, but in it, one passes into the landscape and what J experience is also, in Chekhov's case for example, the boundless moaning of the steppe. The descriptive regime is therefore a sort of/rU

indirect discourse: I give the discourse of the steppe, which I am or

become. The intimate steppe, like the plane of exteriority where my inner life stirs and is played out, extends beyond me (extenority is no longer simply the world of heterogeneous singularities, but the inti­ mate itself, which proves to have neither limits nor intimacy, a pure assemblage of heterogeneous singularities, and also a pure limit). To live a landscape: neither an anthropomorphism nor a projection, but

Six Nous on the Percept

197

the material landscape of my inner life producing itself, rather than the material of the metaphorical expression of a life and another, properly spiritual, matter. Mind is the membrane of the external world, rather than an autonomous gaze directed towards it. Everyone may therefore say 'I am the world, or a piece of the world,' to the precise extent that spirit only realizes or individuates itself upon encountering the world, beyond which it does not exist, or exists only potentially. 'We are not in the world, we become with the world, we become by contemplating it. '10 Deleuze freely takes up again Plotinus' conceptual gesture, turning back towards that from which one proceeds in order to contemplate it, although we ourselves are ultimately contemplations. We do not contemplate ourselves, but we exist only in contemplating ­ that s i to say, in contracting that from which we come . . . and we are all

Narcs i sus in virtue of the pleasure (auto-satisfaction) we experience in contemplating, even though we contemplate things quite apan from

ourselves . . . We must always first contemplate something else . . . in order 10 be filled with

an

image of ourselves.

(DR 74-5)

Our mental life is not independent of the milieus and the persons we contemplate, but insofar as we contemplate them and they subcon­ sciously work the mind, they are already something other than milieus and persons. We do not fabulate by substituting the false for the true, but because we always work from the signs, emitted involuntarily by these milieus and persons, that constitute them by extending beyond them, just as we are constituted by extending beyond our­ selves. We live overrun by emitted signs, although social and material demands are

forever turning us

away from

them,

or making

us ashamed to spend time on them, like the Idiot who instead of fleeing the fire, fills his mind with the event 'fleeing-the-fire'. Each tiny act of everyday life, every perceptive fragment, emits questioning signs that outStrip the demands of action and tum towards a still higher urgency. The texture of the self is a membrane, not a thing but the capture of

a1/Olher thing, since a faculty exists only through the forces it captures, which sometimes captivate it (catatonia) and sometimes cany it away (fulguration) . l l A writer does not therefore express lived experience,

insofar as expression blurs into creation: the percept-affect reveals the intolerable, or with an intolerable force, reveals that which used to remain enveloped within ordinary perceptions and affections (lived experience). Further, the writer, far from reponing lived experience,

198

Franfois Zourabichvili

makes a vital discovery. He sees at the limit afthe livable, he lives What

cannot be lived through. Now, ordinary perceptions never reacb the intolerable, given the compromising force aflhe cliche. The writer liVet what was enveloped within lived experience. yet nevertheless was not

lived through. Doubtless sometimes it happens that vision or the intolerable make an incursion into the flow of existence itself, as • crisis of lived experience, an uncoupling or rupture of the sensory_ motor schema, and it is precisely here that Deleuze locates a modern event, particularly perceptible in post-war cinema e e l 20Sf).

This

uncoupling and rupture ('no longer feeling concerned') are even the

condition of the encounter with the intolerable; thus in Vinotio De Sica's film, the pregnant woman doing the housework, her own belly

swelling, almost against her will, looks 'as if all the world's misery were being born' (C2 1-2). We could quite correctly say then that an

expresses or relates the very crisis of lived experience when thtt

experience is suddenly confronted with the unbearable.

What is health? We see that it is ambiguous by nature, an overflow­ n i g, excess, in other words, violence, but a creative violence, or more precisely, a violence concomitant with creation rather than desttuo­

tive. Such violence shatters because it carries the subject into aD

a-subjective, that is, a singular and impersonal becoming-other, rather than shattering by a will-to-shatter or to impose a new, already envit­ aged, figure of subjectivity (Deleuze does not posit two violences. be deduces them from the perspectival nature of the relations of forces n

the active and reactive points of view) . This concomitant violence,

anonymous and non-intentional, serves no-one nor any ideal figure.lJ The paradox of health is to be inseparable from a supreme passivity that merges, however, with the pure act or becoming-tUtive; it is the dismissal of every order and all submission, which acquiesces, how­ ever, to one other in me that acts (so that one will be prevented frolll assimilation to any great, divine or phallic Other) . In a sense, health is

mortal; it does not easily co-exist with either the ego or its support, the organism. The mind, which, in keeping with the nature of contempla­ tive individuation, merges with an intense body, cannot live with the organized body. Yet nevertheless, there is no life. and therefore no health, without a minimal organism. Life is non-organic, but its rela­ tion to the organism is one of reciprocal presupposition: it builds a e house in order to take flight from it, it is House-Cosmos, a hous . standing against the cosmos, tuned in to the cosmos, haunting s e much as inhabiting it. This immediate contact of the Inside and th Outside through mutual capture means that I become the world only insofar as the world, at the same time, overruns me and leads its

Six Notes on the Percept

199

infernal life deep within me, making me be or giving me the consist­

enCy of the very act that overflows me and throws me outside myself. What is health? Renewing the constituent relation to the outside, which always already passes into and haunts the inside:

Every point has its counterpoints: the plant and the rain, the spider and the fly. An animal or a thing, therefore, are never separable from their relations to the world: the interior is only a selected exterior, the exterior, a projected interior. (SPP 168) Ultimately, inside and outside cease to be discernible, and the frac­ ture inherent in this mortal health, in this vitality at the edge of an abyss, 'is neither internal nor external, but is rather at the frontier[,] imperceptible, incorporeal and ideal'.ll Pessoa knew how to say it: 'You, naval things, old toys of my dreams!! ReaTTange, outside me, my inner life!! Keels, sails and masts, helm-wheels, rigging.! Steamer's funnels, propellers, topmasts, pennants flapping in the winds,1 Screws, hatchways, boilers, bilges, valves,! Rush down on me in heaps, iumbles,! In disorder, like a drawer emptied on the floor!/ . . Letyours be the line

that links me aesthetically

w

.

the outside'! . . Since, in actual fact, seri­ ously, literally,! My sensations are a boat with its keel turned round.! .

. . .'14 On the other hand, the House separates itselffrom the Cosmos and becomes the fetid home of the neuroses, the family house, when feeling is separated from what it can do, and confined, from now on, to interminable recognition or to cliches. Perception is always already

a remembering, always recalls something, the dija-tJu that protects against every visual novelty, every event of vision. In this regard,

Swann is the anti-Chari us, but equally the bad double of the Proustian narrator, analogous perhaps to Zarathustra's ape which, for Nietzsche, parodies the eternal return by reducing it to an old familiar grind. Deleuze speaks of the 'intimate ocean' where Moby Dick swims, the projection of which n i to the ocean outside transmutes the perception

of this latter into a percept. Moreover, this projection of the intimate

Ocean into the ocean outside is at the same time the projection of an image of self, but one that is not an ego, since 'the ruins of his devastated ego' are, on the contrary, its condition. This self will 'live its own life' - a never completed image, a fable and a myth - 'always laken up once more, reassembled, ceaselessly expanding on the way'

(CC 146-7), Writing these lines, was Deleuze thinking of Melville's triplet: 'Implacable 1, the old implacable sea:1 Implacable most when

mOst 1 smile serene - I Pleased, not appeased, by myriad wrecks in me'?I' The intimate ocean is not the same thing as the percept, but the

200

Fra'lfois Zourabichvili

condition of it: at once the plane of immanence or composition where the percept unfolds and connects with other percepts; the plane of contact and the assemblage of different percepts; and the different heights, atmospheres and temperatures of a subjective life, each over., flowing the enclosure afthe ego from all sides, in such a way that nooe has priority nor primacy, giving it no consistency other than the disjunctive assemblage of percepts. In the final instance then, all writers compose an intimate plane of exterion'zy from percept to percept, which inspires them and whicb is itself composed of percepts. An immanent support, a condition that, however, does not pre-exist them (just as the transcendental field, of which it realizes or actualizes only a fragment, is 'no larger than what it conditions'): Melville's Ocean, T. E. Lawrence's Desen, Cbekhov', Steppe, Virginia Woolf's Town, Faulkner's Hills in the imaginary county of Yoknapatawpha, etc. The plane may be in a panicular work. or may encompass their Work in its open-ended totality. In each instance a subjectivity is at work, but one which, stirring up the forca of the outside, cannOI, by definition, be reduced to the individuality of a person. Health lies within the percept, that is, in the final analysis, ill the addition of new percepts, which resonate infinitely with those already acquired. Health lies in making different percepts play, in bringing them to life, which percepts I, that is, the point pulled in aU directions in a disjunctive synthesis, have never finished becomiDa (rather than being). Consisting only of percepts may also be called becoming-imperceptibk. The discrete hero of the percept, basically the 'grand vivant', he of the great life, is not the eccentric or the marginal. since they are tOO perceptible, preeminently perceived; rather, tbiI hero is the man without qualities or characteristics who goes unper­ ceived by vinue of knowing how to become-everyone and everythin&. and consequently th� contrary of the non-conformist and no less oftbe conformist (exactly what Fellini, for example, said he loved about Mastroianni) . Can we speak of a profound landscape, as we say of an idea? An idel is not profound because it is well-founded, in close contact with its

foundations, but rather because it makes thought 'founder' [iffondant) and liberates the infinite resonances in chaotic communication within it. I � The aesthetic idea is for Kant that which 'prompts much thought', and Deleuze, who devotes a chapter of en·tique et C/inique to Kant, also invokes the Idea. 17 Wbat is it that prompts infinite thought in this way? The landscape where everything resonates, Ocean, Desen, Steppe, Town, Hills, etc.: in short, the plane of intimacy with the composition that traces and fills it.

Six Notes 0" (he Percept 4

201

The Persona, the Process and the Child

So merefore, to see to the nth power is [Q evaluate, to perceive the forces that animate, captivate and bring about the visible, [Q perceive

the visible in its vibrations, it being understood that its ways of vibrating are variable and of unequal strength. Nietzsche's animals and personae, of which Deleuze made a dictionary in his shorter

Nietzsche, are not types or persons: to see them is to apprehend or caprure the forces they emit, and 'to sense whether they are in accord or discord'.18 As an example, Nietzsche brings out the percept of the

camel and the bull (�hat can the camel do? answer: carry, bear; what can the bull do?, and so on). For his part, Deleuze draws a ponrait of the principal conceptual personae in philosophy (WP ch. 3). The percept cutS across genres, types and species, mixing or merging them:

me draught horse accords more with the ox than with the racehorse; as for Unle Hans, he sees the horse (SPP ch. 6; CC 85). What, then, distinguishes art from life? Is it enough to say that art conserves the crises of lived experience, or of life in the living? When Deleuze says that it is proper to an to conserve, we might think that he is thinking of the souvenir. Obviously not, however, and if an were the souvenir of a life-passage, and not the passage itself, it would have

hardly any vital interest, quite the opposite. Art is not composed in

order to remember, no more than it is composed of souvenirs; to conserve is something else, conserving is indissociable from feeling. What we are pointing OUt is that Deleuze appears to give two reasons,

two arguments for the idea that the percept exceeds all lived experi­

ence and existS in the absence of man: (1) it overflows subjectivity,

and (2) it conserves itself independently of that which experiences it and composes it. So, he specifies, it is a matter of a conservation in itself (and not only in some material) (wp 1 63ft'). Necessarily, this must really be one and the same argument; and it is necessary that Conservation in itself is related to overflowing or excess, that this is not

only a possibility of the percept but its very nature. Art, according to Deleuze, does not conserve the percept but creates or assembles

percepts that are so many conservations in themselves. At least a first misinterpretation thus seems to be avoided, namely, to think that the percept could be experienced independently of an artistic creation, that is, of working with a material, with colour, sound, language, etc.

One question grows increasingly urgent: is there, independently of af( and philosophy (which creates by concepts) a vital creation close to life, a creation of life itself? At this level, it would be true but inadequ-

202

FranfOis Zourabichvili

ate to recall that art and philosophy are also manifestations oC life, and disciplines adja�ent to life. The question is. is this possible. . , , without reCOurse to signs which are not those ofhved expenence itself, but a refraction of life in some material? Or can we attain this Health, neither physical nor mental, yet nonetheless real for all that, withOUt creating? The Deleuzian response, it seems, is no. 19 The percept, a vital education and incorporeal health are n i sep.,. able from means of expression. This is why, in a new sense, literar, commentary simultaneously presents a clinical aspect and a critic4l aspect: the clinician of his own existence, the writer draws up • differential table of vital signs, diagnosing which undermine and wbic:b favour health, always on condition of creating appropriate writm,-. signs (or style) (LS 237ft). Once again we stumble across a misintef.. pretation, always the same one, perhaps, but this time in a very crude, although fearsome, mask: to believe that life teaches us nothing� mel that acculturation resides in books and an. Crude and fearsome ia effect, since in a cenain way, it is true. Education is literary or artistic, though also existential or vital; it is the education o/life, and concenq nothing other, although it is not actualized outside writing or compoai.. tion, with the result that life - not lived experience - and the wort ultimately become indiscernable, although always distinct. not

Cn'ricism and the clinical: life and work are the same thing, when they have adopted the line of flight which makes them the components ofthc:

same war machine. In these conditions life has for a long time ceased to be personal and the work ceased to be literary or textual. (0 141)

Education in writing does not therefore replace life, with its everydIJ experiences and its intense passages, since it has no content besides this. Precisely, however, the 'life-passage that cuts across the bearable and the experienced', or as Blanchot says, 'the living of life', which for him is unbearable within existence, not a possible object of lived experience, paradoxically, can only be seen, sensed, or lived through in a process of creation. Deleuze can therefore retain the old word 'expression': writing really speaks of something other than itself (life), although this being the case, it comes alive itself (equivalent to 'non· organic vitality' as content and the 'agrammatical syntax' as express­ ion). Nevertheless, writing creates what it speaks about, or createS vision from it, hearing, the percept, since existence is incapable of presenting it (or rather, for this, existence must necessarily be augmented with a dimension so that it cannot but create, that is, it must become-artistic). It is proper to an, Deleuze states, to

give

Six Notes on the Percept

203

cOIIsiste71CY to the unbearable as such involved in life, not necessarily

due to some violent or terrifying experience (he insists, on the con� uary, on the fact that the intolerable may concern even the most banal

moments of everyday life): to make the tear or the fracture consistent. What does preserving in itself mean? To give consistency. Art did appear to 'exceed all lived experience' in two senses, but we now see how they make just one: it is because it overflows the subject's unity that the percept is unlivable, unbearable, and must from now on be created, in other words, conserved. Why, then, does Deleuze appear to make an exception in the case of children, who do not write and are not artists, even when they speak or draw? (WP 164-5). Litde Hans, who Freud studied, had entered into a becoming-animal, and childhood, or at least early childhood, is presented as a time of happiness that is sadly soon compromised, where existence merges with a vital education, with� out, however, producing a work (the question here not being ofknow� ing

if this is a pity, but if it is possible): to desire, or to renew contact

with desire, or to discover lines of flight for desire, in adulthood, would thus be inseparable from a becoming-child . . . Or perhaps we

are on the wrong track when we think that becoming implies a cre� ation, and that only the artist or the philosopher attains this superior health in the free wandering of desire? In fact, existence has its intense

passages and its ruptures: loving, and also forgetting, forgetting as

what makes us capable of loving. So why the pessimism that destines us to creation? Is it only a matter of intensity, or is there a more profound reason? The very concept of the seeing persona, bound up with that of fabulation, imposes this on us. Of what type is the subject or non�sub� ject of the percept... if it is true that the latter overflows the unity of the person from all sides? It is the schi zophrenic, who lives the unlivable on the edge of total disintegration, because he affirms his fracture and

lives on its edges. An unattributable, mobile subject. able to connect

roles or possible lives without lapsing into identification, the schizo� phrenic is composed of the disjunctive synthesis of incompossible

points of view.2!l A persona such as this is hardly viable except in Writing (despite this, he is not imaginary, since his becomings are real, and since the writer or the reader are really engaged in a becoming� persona) . In existence, this limit experience, or, quite simply, this experiment, corresponds to the positive and enlivening 'schizophrenic process', carrying life to unheard of n i tensity, but constantly threat� ened by psychotic and autistic collapse. Critique et clinique states this from the very first page: the process is on the one side creation, and on

Franfois Zourabichvili

204

the other side. psychosis. Rather, it remains silent, fragile, in the midlt of their ruthless debate. Seeings and hearings are not a private matter, rather. they Conn figures in a continually reinvented History and geography. Delirium invents them as a process carrying words from one end of the universe to the other. They are events on the frontiers of language. But when delirium collapses into a clinu:o/ condition, words no longer open onto anything, we no longer either hear or see anything through them, except for a night that has lost its history, its colours and its songs. Literature is • health. (CC 9) Does this mean that the child is somehow spontaneously schizo­ phrenic? And is the threat hanging over the process always extrinsic

(the violence of a censure Or a repression), or is it also intrinsic (_

destruction of the self as the correlate of vitality)? Time and again, after The LtJgic of Sense, Deleuze returns [0 the opening sentence of Fitzgerald's The Crack Up: 'Of course all life is a process of breakina down.' How does it happen that desire is so often marked with death, that the percept places 'the discrete mark of death' on the writer? II the line of flight condemned to become a line of death, where desire loses its balance and wants annihilation? Once you stan thinking, you're bound [0 enter a line of thought where life and death, reason and madness, are at stake, and the line draws you on. You can think only on this witches' line, assuming you're not bound to lose, not bound to end up mad or dead. (NE 103-4).

5

Death, Shame and the Ethics of the Stroll

'In its way, an says what children say' (CC 86). little Hans, whatever Freud may say, has his vision, his perception of the street, still current at the beginning of this century, but which he experiences as a percept: 'a horse falls, is whipped, struggles' (CC 85). It is a percept because what he sees cannot be reduced either to simple infonnation (a neWS item that will provide an excellent basis for table talk), or to a sadde­ ning spectacle (a spectacle associated with a feeling, for example, the pity felt by an animal-lover), nor still less to a metaphor (a perception so much more disturbing that it evokes something else: in this in­ stance, the father, as Freud would like to have us believe) . Litde Hans

sees the horse fall, and through this fall, sees what a horse 'can do.' Be would receive no vital education here if, once again, it were only a

Six NOles on the Percept

205

matter of information concerning the horse: but. worked by the spec­ tacle. he experiences directly in himself the horse's alternately active and passive power. In other words. through his vision, he enters into a

becoming-horse, JUSt like Ahab's becoming-whale. even though this involves very different affects. He learns what it is possible to experi­

ence; he discovers the possible lives and the points of view or the forces they imply, the difference that cuts across the affect and life {passive/active. the fall/getting Up) .21 The percept mixes the attractive and the repulsive. vitality and death. And if education envelops death, if vision leaves 'the discrete mark of death' on the seer. the ever sensitive, open wound of a

ruprure, it is because life can only be grasped at the nonsensical point where it acquires sense. that is. also when it enters into a quasi-indis­ cernable relation with death; not a moribund life, but one that contin­ ually pulls away from death, repeating its difference. like the detail or the differential that changes everything.

Life as something snatched

from death, but equally and just as much a virtual event of dying, a willing-dying indiscernible from vitality as such. it being then a ques­ tion of avoiding that which, within the willing-dying n i herent in the

experience of life. could turn back on and against itself, and tum into the 'passion of abolition' pure and simple (ATP 229). Every percept, in this sense, involves death. not simply that of the self-identical subject, but the

0

intensity implied by and involved in every sensation,

Kant. reminds us. In fact, intensity can only be O. whatever its degree or level. Also, the active

as Deleuze, following felt as it approaches

envelops the passive, the affect that carries me along being at the same

time too much for me. The death included in every event, whether favourable or unfavourable. is at times the reactive force that wills death and separ�tes me from what I can do, and at times the dazzling vitality of an active force that captivates me and simultaneously sweeps me away, raising me to a becoming-active by imposing on me the final phase of passivity. Life is simultaneously that which differs from death and is always being undermined by it, and that which undermines the living, organized individual through an excess of vitality. Again, the unbearable has two alternating values in Deleuze's texts: sometimes it designates the morbid powers of the

res5emimem

that jeopardize vi­

tality, while at other times it characterizes the ordeal of vitality. But the one form derives from the other: the 'too much for me' affects an

exhausted or insufficiently plastic force. determining a hard line rather

than consent (C2 14 1-2). The ego then wills life to be too much for it, hence the genesis of renenzimenl, the will to affirm what limits, encloses, circumscribes and prOtects life, the valorization of suffering

206

Franfois Zourabichvili

and death (but to speak of a dangerous health does not imply that \Ve valorize suffering: we affirm only a perpetual relation to it), At this point, we should consider the omnipresent theme of shame in Deleuze's recent texts: shame is a base intensity, no less intense for aU that, the affect of an interminable belittling of the self-image. At the same time, it forces us to think: 'the feeling of shame is one oflhe most

potent motives in philosophy' (WP 108). Already in NielZsche and Philosophy, 'The use of philosophy is to sadden' (NPh 106). How can

the philosopher ofJoy write that? Because one thinks only in a relation to shame: to feel shame before stupidity, one's own stupidity, and thUI

to become capable of thinking. However, even here shame is insep�

able from a percept: 'And we can feel shame at being human in utterly trivial situations. too: in the face of too great a vulgarization of think. ing. in the face of 1V entenainment. of a ministerial speech. of "jolly people" [bon vivants] gossiping' (NE 172). Flauben. perhaps the tim

to do so. composed the percept of stupidity on the scale of an entire book, Bouvard et Pecuchet: 'A pitiful faculty then emerges in their minds, that of being able to see stupidity and no longer tolerate it . . .'

(cited by Deleuze in DR 152). Now this affect is possible only from the

point of view of the superior (active) forces that we reach and that shame us. The percept is never the perception of one force, but of . relation of forces; sensation is always differential and for that same reason, evaluative. Shame consists in having seen one's own forces humiliated. having seen oneself as a slave, or a domestic pet.n Nevenheless, it remains the case that the Deleuzian idea of shame seems paradoxical: we would rather be tempted to say that it paralyses

thought, that it puts up fences, that it is supported by the forces of conformity rather than a flight of creation. How in fact, according to Nietzsche, do reactive forces triumph over active ones? 'One feci.

shame towards action. life itself is accused, separated from its power, separated from what it can do' (N 28). And to separate a force from what it can do, to render it reactive, is to turn it against itself by • process of intemalization, from which responsibility and guilt are born

(NPh 1 3 1 , 142). There are therefore two really distinct shames, whose struggle is described in the book on Kafka. The originality in this consists in suggesting an active sense of shame, the feeling of quasi� annihilation. Funher, the idea of an active shame makes sense only according to a becoming. to the point of view of becoming. For guilt does not belong a priori to the concept of shame; shame becomes a making-guilty when the ego is given as the very form of existence, from which there is no escape, and therefore when the possibility of beeom­ ing is nullified. From now on. shame must be internalized: it no longer

Six Notes on the Percept

207

qualifies what we cease to be but what we inalterably are; it is what we rnust take responsibility for and we will never have done with it (ego) . This being the case, Nietzsche could equally say that disease gave him a point of view on health and vice-versa, since he had seen and felt disease (what it can do), juSt as shame gives Deleuze a point of view on glory, and from there a glorious point of view on shame (hence the frequency of the verbs dresser, 'to raise', and se redresser, 'to draw oneself up', since the book on Kafka). 'There is always some glory to be taken in shame . . .'23 What then is glory, that giant image of the self, rather than the self as giant, if not the percept, or rather the connection of percepts, that traces a perpetually mobile and perpe­ tually increasing plane of intimate exteriority, and in this manner, composing a Character? (CC ISO, 156). Following what we have said about the nature of the percept, it is clear that this image is not at all narcissistic or megalomaniac; on the contrary, for a glory that renoun­ ces shame, while continuing to struggle with it, is a glory that is always '100 much for me', for the shameful pettiness of the ego: a glory always to come and yet already there, there insofar as it is to come or as becoming, and which never stops tolling the bell for my nasty and persistent little glories. So let's go back to Little Hans and his vision. A horse falls: percept of the fall, base intensity. The fall gives the child a point of view on pride (drawing himself up), no less than on humiliation, and makes him feel the affect as difference, or as the relation of forces inherent in the horse he is becoming. Little Hans becomes-horse without taking himself to be a horse, or playing at being a horse: Deleuze rejects the idea of imitation as he does identification, to the extent that they still

presuppose persons and individuals, whereas becoming, far from sim­

ply making the subject pass from one individuality to another, involves it in another type of individuation altogether, at once singular and impersonal, from which persons derive when the existent is separated

from what it can do. Deleuze calls this non-personal individuation, of the order of an event, haecceity (ATP 253ff). Hans sees the horse fall, and it really is a matter of a real horse falling on a particular day at a particular time in a particular street. But what he sees with a second sight, what he experiences through his vision - a complex of forces overflows the particularity ofthe horse, without for all that lapsing into generalizations: force is never the force of a subject, but cuts across and carries away the subject constituted at the core of the relation. Every individuality refers to singular relations of forces that animate it and that it presupposes, rather than the reverse, since the relations by nature exceed the individual form. In this sense, Little Hans does not

Franfois Zourabichvili

208

become a horse unless the real horse becomes something else, a Pure perception, a virtual 'affective horse' (the indefinite does not so mUch express some variable or some peculiarity as it does the detenninatioQ proper to the singular: what a horse can do exceeds every Possib le attribution. whether demonstrative or possessive; this horse, my

horse), The percept is therefore also a crystal, a two-sided image where the actual and the virtual are ceaselessly exchanged, distinct-obscute, 'distinct but indiscernable' (CC 83; C2 25--43).

We see that the percept and the affec t comain within them the principle of an immanent ethical decisiveness, which is health itsel f (a health that is equally irreducible either to the flawless perfor­ mance of the body, Of to a socially impeccable mental stability, which. for all that, makes it no less real or literal). 'Nietzsche became in­

sane precisely because, having lost this mobility, this art of displac. ment, he could no longer through his health turn disease into a point of

view on health' (N 10). Evaluation is inherent in every real experience,

in every conjunction that carries the subject into a becoming. It

operates directly on life in the disjunctive synthesis of vitally experi­ enced points of view, instead of hanging over it and submining it to

ttanscendental criteria, to hypostatized cliches and to the moral ma.­

chine ofjudgemem. It is immanent since the evaluating points of view are not

a

prion·, but objects encountered that can only be felt. So

understood, ethics is restored to its true sense: the exploration ofWllJl

of living, or even of the Character, in the specific sense that we have

JUSt defined

n i

accordance with its ambiguous etymology. And yet we

continue to resist the idea of an immanent evaluation, and so carry OD

judging as if, trapped by the alternative, we had no way out other t:bID nihilism.

What hampered us was thal by renouncing judgement, we had the impression that we were depriving ourselves of any means of distin­

guishing between beings or ways of being, as if everything from now on amounts [0 the same. (CC 168)

This is because judgement has the property of creating the illusion of an alternative: literally Ego or Chaos. Judging consists in treating the entirety of the visible as material for surveying rather than educating, always relating it to something else, the memory or the latent content that explains it, the pre-existent values according to which it is as­ sessed. It is also the most secure bastion against the event, the best defence for cliches against the emergence of a percept that challenges them b y promoting new, active forces:

Six Notes on the Percept

209

Judgement prevents the advent of every new mode of existence. For the latter creates itself out of its own forces, that is, by forces it is able to capture, and proves its wonh insofar as it brings a new combination into existence. This, perhaps, is the secret: bring into existence, don't judge. It is so distasteful to judge not because everything is of equal value, but on the contrary, because everything ofvalue can only produce itself and distinguish itself by defying judgement. What expen judgement in an could bear on the work to come? It is not for us to judge other beings, but to feel whether they agree or disagree with us, that is, if they supply us with forces or return us to the misfonunes of war, to the paucity of dreams or the demands of the organisation.24

Deleuzian ethics may be summed up by the following formula: be like everyone else, on condition of being able to lake! one's strolls; or, following Kafka's expression, of 'having nothing to do but take one's walks' which equally means, as Patrice Loraux reminds us in his excellent book,25 'being not yet born and already forced to go for a stroU'. The two formulas do not, however, contradict each other: the forces of the encounter, as Deleuze likes to say, come unexpectedly upon us: no-one is ready for a encounter, which necessarily contains its share of violence Ctoo much for me') as a concomitant of the relation of forces. To take a stroll is to 'extend one singularity right into the neighbourhood of another' (passim), to extend every percept into another percept, following inevitably hazardous external connec­ tions or relations, and in this way, to compose the richest possible artistic disjunctive synthesis. Or grasp the event in things and in what happens, and in each case, carve out the corresponding concept in such a way as to constitU[e and constantly enrich a resonant philosop­ hical constellation. 'Kleist invented a writing of this type, a broken chain of affects and variable speeds, with accelerations and transfor­ mations, always in relation with the outside' (ATP 9). Ami-Oedipus also opens with these intensive and contemplative strolls, in the course of which one becomes-active: A schizophrenic out for a walk is a better model than a neurotic Lying on the analyst's couch. A breath of fresh air, a relationship with the

Outside world. Lenz's stroll, for example, as reconstructed by Buchner. This walk outdoors is different from the moments when Lenz finds himself closeted with his pastor, who forces him to situate himself SOcially, in relationship to the God of established religion, in relation­ ship to his father, to his mother. While taking a stroll outdoors, on the other hand, he is in the mountains, amid falling snowflakes, with other gods or without any gods at all, without a family, without a father or a

Franfois Zourabichvili

210

mother, with nature. 'What docs my father want? Can he offer me: more

than that? Impossible. Leave me in peace.' Everything is a machine.

Celestial machines. the stars or rainbows in the sky, alpine machines _

all of them connected to those of his body. The continual whirr of machines. 'He thought that it must be a feeling of endless bliss [0 be in contact with the profound life of every form,

[0 have a soul for roeb.

metals, water and planu. to take into himself, as in a dream, every element crnature, like flowers that breathe with the waxing and waning of the moon'. To be a chlorophyll- or a photosynthesis-machine, or at least slip his body into such machines as one pan among the othen.

Lcnz has projected himself back to a time before the man-nature dicho­ tomy, before all the coordinates based on this fundamental dichotomy have been laid down. He does not live nature as nature, but as a proceu o£production. There is no such thing as either man or nature now, only a process that produces the one within the other and couples the

machines

together.

Producing-machines,

desiring-machines

every_

where, schizophrenic machines, all of species life: the self and the non-self, outside and inside, no longer have any meaning whatsoever.16

6

Becoming-Child

The immanent ethic is inseparable from a creation. When we asked whether the experience of full health is possible, or whether life could

do without creation, the answer was no, and we stumbled against the

curious and enigmatic exception that Deleuze seems to make (or young children. Once again, why say that 'in its way, art says whit children say', while otherwise emphasizing the distance that separateS a child's drawing from a Paul Klee canvas? Why, in the middle of. book devoted to writing, is there a text entitled 'What Children Say'? (CC ch. IX). The answer is literally in the title: children have singular means of expression and an original mode of questioning, that psycho-­ analysis, to its shame, exploits by repressing; hence the indefinite reduced to a possessive (a horse

=

your daddy); or talking of I

machine, of a function rather than an organ (the 'making-pee' of . horse) , and so on. Psychoanalysis gives itself over to linguistic reduc­ tions in order to reduce the becoming inherent in the percept to a

simple metaphor, and to reduce the experience of the outside to I

closed circuit of tired fonnulae (whatever you see and feel, it is always

a way of thinking of daddy). In this way however, we have only partially answered the question. Does there remain a second aspect, namely, the viabilitY of becoming

211

Six Notes on the Percepl

and the affect in the child, its relation to the schizophrenic adult? In en'rique el c/inique, Deleuze does not confine himself to the young

child, he also raises the issue of the infant (CC 82, 167). This is [0 raise the potentialization n i herent in becoming by one degree: the becoming-child goes beyond itself to a becoming-baby, just as, in the final instance, writing leads to that which does not speak but snorts, gurgles and screams. This intense vocality resonates in and through writing, insofar as it lives and creates (WP 55; CC ch. XIII) . Babies display a vitality,

an

obstinate, stubborn, untameable will-to-Iive,

different from all organic life. With a young child there is already a personal, organic relationship, but not with a baby that, for all its

smallness, concentrates the energy that shatters paving stones (Law­ rence's tortoise-baby). With the baby there is only

an

affective, athletic,

impersonal, vital relationship. It is certain that the will-to-power ap­

peared in the baby in an infinitely more precise manner than in the man of war. For the baby is combat, and the

small is the irreducible site of

forces.27

From now on, does childhood for Deleuze designate the glorious and perhaps unreal state of an overabundant and extravagant force, supple, plastic, capable of every metamorphosis, but doomed to

dry

up and settle down in the face of the reactive demands of the social

and familial world? (Deleuze does not deny the utility of reactive forces for life; on the contrary, since life requires at least a minimal conservation. But putting reactive forces at the service of active ones is not the same thing as separating active forces from what they can do, in order to put them at the service of reaction (NPh

1 1 1-14» . Isn't

childhood the name of vitality itself, of that force, captured at birth, which we continually betray in 'developing' ourselves?28 Adults often say that a child is that to which everything must be given, but which gives nothing in return: reading Deleuze, we come to wonder if it is not the reverse. And insofar as they create, the writer and the artist are constantly renewing contact with childhood as viable vitality, in the mode of a becoming rather than a remembering: child-becoming, block

of childhood.Z'l

Perception related to what it can do, immanent evaluation, compo­

sition of the self on a plane of exteriority: such have seemed to us to be the principal characteristics of the percept according to Deleuze. marking the indissociability of aesthetics and ethics. We do not know

if we have been really understood, or even sufficiently understood. We

have read round the edges, and it is the cruelty of commentary SOmetimes to diminish the author, but also and to the same extent, to

Franfois Zourabichvili

212

bring to light exactly what the commentator can do, what only he C8.b

do. Each is in a position to detect and to Conn the cold architecture of

the concept, requiring only a little technique and patience; the prob­

lem is to know if one captures, at the same time, only those vital resonances capable of making sense of it, and if one has gone far enough with these resonances, if one has sufficiently 'potentialiud' the concept. uanslated by lain Hamilton Grant

ABBREVIATIONS The rollowing book abbreviations arc used: A-Oe:

Ann-Oedipus, trans. Raben Hurley, Mark Seem and Helen R Lane,

New York: Viking Press and London: Athlone, ATP: A

Thousand Plauaw, trans. Brian Massumi, Minneapolis: Univenity of

Minnesota Press and London: Athlone. B;

1983.

1987.

Bergumism, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habbcrjam, New York:

Zone,

1988.

CC:

Critique et ch"nique, Paris: Minuit, 1993.

CI:

Cinema 1: The MOtJtment-lmage, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara

Habberjam, London: Athlone,

Cinema Z: The Time-Image, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Robert Galeu.

C2:

London: Athlone, D:

1986.

1989.

Dialogues, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, LondoD!

Athlone,

1987.

DR:

Difference and Repetition, trans. Paul Patton, London: Athlone, 1994.

EP:

Expressionism in Philosophy: Spinoza, trans. Martin Joughin, New York:

Zone Books, F:

1990.

The Fold: Leilmiz and the Baroque, trans. Tom Conley, Minneapolis: Min­

nesota University Press, FB: Francis Bacon.

1993.

LogiqW! de la sensation, Paris: Editions de la Difference, 1981.

KM.L: Kafka: Toward a Minor Literature, Minnesota University Press, 1986. LS: The wgic of Seme,

trans. Dana Polan, Minneapolis:

trans. Mark Lester and Charles J. Stivale, New York:

Columbia University Press,

1990.

Six NOles on the Percept

213

MD: Herman Melville, Moby Dick, Harmondswonh: Penguin Books, 1994. N: NWlzsche, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1965. NE: Negotiations, trans. Martin Joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. NPh: Nietzsche and Philosophy, trans. Hugh Tomlinson, London: Athlone,

1983. ps:

Proust and Signs, trans. Richard Howard, Harmondswonh: Penguin, 1973.

SPP: Spinoza: Practical Philosophy, trans. Roben Hurley, San Francisco: City Lights, 1988. l Lon­ WP: What is Philosophy? trans. Graham Burchell and Hugh Tominson, don: Verso, 1994.

NOTES To use Toni Negri's image of Kafkaesque haste, borrowed from Deleuze in the first place.

2

Ahab's strange relationship with Moby Dick, mixing desire with death, is, since Dialogues, the example of becoming that Delcuze most frequently provides. Given the brevity of Deleuze's remarks, we believe that it is useful to show, with the help of the texts themselves, the difference he proposes to establish between a perception and a percept (we do not ask, however, that the texts 'illustrate' the notion of the percept, since the relation is rather the opposite: we bring them together as the source from

3

which this notion draws its sense, as the element in which it is engaged).

On potentialization, or raising to the nth degree, see NPh 107 (Tomlin­

son gives 'reanimated'

�

[r.]; DR 7-8. On seeing [wyanee], second sight

and the third eye, see SPP 24; C2 2-3, 2 1 , 128; CC 16.

4

Consider notions such as resonance, coexistence, reciprocal insertion, the conjunctive membrane (closely related to the membrane that we will examine later in this text); also, of course, the invocation of the fold as the ground of the visible (The Visible and the Invisible, trans. Alphonso Lingis, Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1968, p. 1 52). Deleuze himself refers to this in The Fold: Leibniz and the Baroque, p. 146, n. 28. Note also the common reference to Proust. Given the extent of these seeming resemblances, concepts such as intertwining (Merleau-Pomy) and becoming (Deleuze) must be differentiated with the greatest care: the

5

difference bears upon the notion of flesh.

'Eye and Mind', trans. Carleton Dallery in Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Primacy of Perception, ed. James M. Edie, Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1964, p. 187; The Visible and the Invisible, pp. 156-9. More generally, Deleuze objects to Husserl's and his successors having

214

6 7

8

Franfois Zourabichflili held onto 'functions of lived experience', which really remain orisinar, opinions or cliches: being-in·the-world, flesh, ideality, etc. Cf. WP 142. Karl-Phillip Moritz, Anton Reiser, cited, most importantly in FB, p. 2 1 .

Traditional theories of metaphor alwaY1 cite resemblance or analogy as criteria.

It is generally thought that following Kant,

it is Husserl that revives

the

transcendental question. However, Deleuze's work in its entirety consiau in showing that there is an alternative: the criucal lineage of Nietzsche

and Bergson. The logic of internal difference and repetition at a distance is a hybrid product, resulting from' a telescoping of the Niettscheao concept of the Will-to-Power, along with the Bergsonian concept of the

pure Past. This transcendental perspectivism is set out in Difference and

RepttitioN., then in The Legic ojSense (particularly in the 24th series). On the idea ofa 'plastic principle', sec NPh 50.

Let's make it clear that sense is inseparable from an encounter with and the capture of a new force. Again, this encounter must necessarily take place, or acquire consistency: if no encounter is ruled out in advance

(condition of immanentism), equally none are, nor can be, artificially

effected or engineered solely by subjective whim. For forct'is that which may only be felt, or experienced; the affect. alone, in this sense, giva

necessity or effectivity to a relation - and, In consequence, to a thought. This is not a 'subjective' criterion, since:' (1) the affect, by contrast.

i a becoming where the individuating points of view involvCll the subject n

overlap, distinct but indiscernable; (2) it stimulatCll, in the subject thus

stripped of its mastery, the supreme activity ofvit:l'evaluation"'(the ethjc4l

activity itself, which we shall come to later). Oeleuze continues to poIC the question of necessity: NPh 109; PS 22-3. 159-67; DR ch. 3, esp. p. 9

•

143ft'.

The book on Kafka is exemplary n i this respect. It. win be noted that

Jacques Derrida, who also sees difference, or rather 'dif!iTance', as the re.J

transcendental principle, is equally, although in a different way and from...... another perspective, led to a critique of metaphor. See 'White Mytho­ logy', in Margins of

PhilO1ophy, trans. Alan Bass, Brighton: Harvester

Wheatsheaf, 1982. 10 II

WP 169. On the membrane and immediate inside-outside contact, see C2 262ff.

Etienne Balibar has suggested that over and above the express references

to Plotinus, Hume and Butler (the concept of contemplation, of the contemplative habit), maintaining that the faculties arc indissociable from constituent sensations, Deleuze rejoins a line of French empiricism 12

opposed to Locke (Condillac, Lamarck).

The Bolshevik demiurge, in this respect, appeared as a dark caricature of the artist and the revolutionary, and it became increasingly m i portant to

him after 1 9 1 7 to annihilale the nascent Constructivism, or rather to bolshevize ii, 10 make il over so that il appeared - even to the eyes of the

,

Six Notes on the Percept

215

anti·Bolsheviks - congenitally Bolshevik. In a general way, Deleuze vigor·

ously distinguishes twO irreconcilable political attitudes, however often they arc confused: concern for the 'future of the Revolution,' and for 'becoming·revolutionary', to which lauer, for his pan, he subscribes. On

this distinction, as weU as the Constructivist movement, see KML 75-6; NE 1 52-3, 158, 1 7 1 .

13 14 15

16

LS 1 5 5 . On the House and the Cosmos, see WP 178-8 1 ; o n the intense

body, or body.without-organs, in its relation to vision, see FB 33.

'Maritime Ode', in Poems 0/Alvaro th Campos (emphasis added). L 'arc 4 1 , 'Melville', p. 84. Cf. DR 194 on 'ungrounding' leifondemtn,j, and 229ff on profundity or

depth as the ground of spatial perception. See also C2 I 07ff on depth of field and its temporalizing role.

17

C C 1 6 : 'The writer a s seer and hearer, the object of literature: i t is the

18 19

C C 169. See also ch. XII on Ariadne, Theseus and Dionysus. We see no reason on this point t o warn o f an elitist ethic, on the pretext

passage orlife into language that constitutes Ideas.'

that we may not ourselves be c�pab1e of this. Not only because ressmti·

melJl is not an argument, and because the idea of social justice happily

does not depend on this, but because such an ethic is genuinely addressed

to everyone (perhaps the only one that is), to the extent that it implies the immanent condition that one cannot know in advana who commands favourable ci:Cumstances and the raising of obstacles, social and familial

in the first instance. In fact. what sense do we give to social n i justice, if not knowing too well in advance who will 'pull through' and who will not 'pull through', as long as, and with the result that, many are separaudjrom

what IheyJQn do, and even, in consequence, from their ability [0 rebel?

What sense do we give to the Idea or democracy, ir not that destinies may be played out over and 'again, entirely within, and not beside or above, existence itselr «(mmanence), according to the laW5, customs and milieus

that extend beyond and territorialize it? In a general way, Deleuzianism

is in ract an elitism, ir this is understood to mean that all ways of existing and thinking are not or equal value, and that the selective evaluation or possibilities ror existence is the immanent activity of life and thought.

Other"\ban this, Deleuze asks only that little humility necessary n i order to perceive the extraordinary health gained by a few great creators and [0

marvel at them; perhaps also to gain something from them;even though 20 21 22

we may not red equal 10 claiming this.

l.S 175; A·Oe 75ff. On the persona in a novel as a rabulated giant, see

WP 1 7 1 and CC 13, 7 1 , 147.

Politiquc et psycha"alysc, Alc:n,>on: Editions des mots perdus, 1977, in collaboration with Felix Guattari, Claire Pamet and A. Scala. An affect such as this, as we have seen, has an irrepressibly political

dimension. As such, it already surrounds the active forces ora revolution·

ary·becoming, which lacks rtJSemiment's grinding protests.

216

Franfois Zourabichvili

23 CC 153. On Nietzschean perspcctivism and its relation to Health, �e N 9-15 and l..S 173-4. 24 CC 169. See also C2 137-47. l , 1993. 25 u tempo de fa pensee, Paris: Seui 26 A-Oe 2. See also CC 96; and the 'voyagelballad' (ba/(Qade) in POst-war cinema: Cl 209 to end and C2 1-18. 27 CC 167. DeJeuze also cites Kafka's statement, 'the great shame that makes itself very small'. 28 Cf. ATP 276: 'Just as a dessicated child makes a much better child, there being no childhood flow emanating from it any longer.' 29 KML 1 4 1 ; also the note on the education of Kafka's nephew, Felix.

11

The Autonomy of Affect Brian Massumi

A man builds a snowman on his roof garden. It stans

[0

melt in the

afternoon sun. He watches. After a time, he takes the snowman to the cool of the mountains, where it stops melting. He bids it good-bye, and leaves. Just images, no words, very simple. It was a story depicted in a short shown on German TV as a fill-in between programmes. The film drew

complaints from parents reporting that their children had been fright­ ened. That drew the attention of a team of researchers. Their study was notable for failing to find much of what it was studying: cognition. Researchers, headed by Hertha Sturm, used three versions of the film: the original wordless version and two versions with voice-overs added. The first voice-over version was dubbed 'factual'. It added a simple step-by-step account of the action as it happened. A second version was called 'emotional'. It was largely the same as the 'factual' version, but included at crucial turning points words expressing the emotional tenor of the scene under way. Sets of nine·year-old children were tested for recall, and asked to rate the version they saw on a scale of 'pleasantness'. The factual

version was consistently rated the least pleasant, and was also the worst remembered. The most pleasant was the original wordless ver­ sion, which was rated JUSt slightly above the emotional. And it was the emotional version that was best remembered. This is already a bit muddli.ng. Something stranger happened when the subjects of the study were asked to rate the individual scenes in the film simultaneously on a 'happy·sad' scale and a 'pleasant·unpleasant' Scale. The 'sad' scenes were rated the most pleasant, the sadder the better.

218 The hypothesis that immediately suggests itself is that in some kind of precocious anti-Freudian protest, the children were equating arou_ sal with pleasure. But this being an empirical study, the children were wired. Their physiological reactions were monitored. The factual ver_ sion elicited the highest level of arousal, even though it was the most unpleasant (i.e., happy) and made the least long-lasting impression. The children, it turns OUl, were physiologically split: factuality made their hean beat faster and deepened their breathing; but it made their skin resistance fall. The original nonverbal version elicited the greatest response from their skin. Galvanic skin response measures auconomic reaction. From the tone of their repon, it seems that the researchers were a bit taken aback by their results. They contented themselves with observing that the difference between sadness and happiness is not aU that it's cracked up to be, and worrying that the difference between children and adults was also not all that it was cracked up to be (judging by studies of adult retention of news broadcasts). Their only positive conclusion was the primacy 0/ the affective in image reception.1 Accepting and expanding upon that, it could be noted that the primacy of the affective is marked by a gap between content and effect':

it w'ould appear that the strength Or duration of an image's effect is not logically connected to the content in any straightforward way. This is

not to say that there is no connection and no logic. What is meant here by the content of the image is its indexing to conventional meanings in

an intersubjective Context, its socio-linguistic qualification. This in­

dexing fixes the quality of the image; the strength or duration of the image's effect could be called its imensity. What comes out here is that there is no correspondence or conformity between quality and n i tens-­ ity. If there is a relation, it is of another nature. To translate this negative observation into a positive one: the event of image reception is multi-levelled, or at least bi-Ievel. There is an immediate bifurcation in response into two systems. One, the level of intensity, is characterized by a crossing of semantic wires: on it. sadness is pleasant. The level of intensity is organized according to 8 logic that does not admit of the excluded middle. This is to say that it is not semantically or semiotically ordered. It does not fix distinctions. Instead, it vaguely but insistently connects what is normally indexed as separate. When asked to signify itself, it can only do so in a paradox. There is a disconnection of signifying order from intensity - which constitutes a different order of connection running in parallel. The gap noted earlier is not only between content and effect. It is also between the form of content - signification as a conventional system of distinc-

The Autonomy of Affect

219

tive difference - and intensity. The disconnection between fonn/con­ tent and intensity/effect is not juSt negative: it enables a different order of connection, a different difference, operating in parallel. Both levels, qualification and intensity, are immediately embodied.

Intensity is embodied in purely autonomic reactions most directly manifested in the skin - at the surface of the body, at its interface with things. Oepth reactions belong more to the form/content (qualifica­ tion) level, even though they also involve autonomic functions such as heartbeat and breathing. The reason may be that they are associated with expectation, which depend� on consciously positioning oneself in a line of narrative continuity. Modulations of heartbeat and breathing mark a reflux of consciousness into the autonomic depths, cotermin­ ous with a rise of the autonomic into consciousness. They are a conscious-autonomic mix, a measure of their participation in one another. Intensity is beside that loop, a nonconscious, never-to-be­ conscious autonomic remainder. It is outside expectation and adapta­ tion, as disconnected from meaningful sequencing, from narration, as it is from vital function. It is narratively de-localized, spreading over the generalized body surface, like a lateral backwash from the func­ tion-meaning interloops travelling the vertical path between head and heart. Language, though head-suong, is not simply in opposition to intens­

ity. It would seem to function differentially in relation to it. The

factual version of the snowman story was dampening. Maner-of-fact­ ness dampens intensity. In this case, matter-of-factness was a doubling of the sequence of images with a narration expressing in as objective a manner as possible the common-sense function and consensual meaning of the movements perceived on screen. This interfered with the images' effect. The emotional version added a few phrases that punctuated the narrative line with qualifications of the emotional content, as opposed to the objective-narrative content. The qualifica­ tions of emotional content enhanced the images' effect, as if they resonated with the level of intensity rather than interfering with it. An

emotional qualification breaks narrative continuity for a moment to register a state - actually re-register an already felt state (for the skin is faster than the word). The relationship between the levels of intensity and qualification is nOI one of conformity or correspondence, but of resonation or inter­ rerenee, amplification or dampening. Linguistic expression can reson­ ate with and amplify intensity at the price of making itself functionally redundant. When on the other hand it doubles a sequence of move­ ments in order to add something to it in the way of meaningful

220

Bn'a'l Massumi

progression - in this case a sense of futurity, expectation, an intima_ tion of what comes next in a conventional progression - then it runs counter to and dampens the intensity. Intensity would seem to be associated with nonlinear processes: resonation and feedback which momentarily suspend the linear progress of the narrative present from past to future. Intensity is qualifiable as an emotional state, and that state is static - temporal and narrative noise. It is a state of suspense,

potentially of disruption. It is like a temporal sink, a hole in time, as

we conceive of it and narrativize it. It is not exactly passivity, because

it is filled with motion, vibratory motion, resonation. And it is not yet activity. because the motion is not of the kind that can be directed (if only symbolically) towards practical ends in a world of constituted

objects and aims (if only on screen). Of course the qualification of an emotion is quite often, in other contexts, itselfa narrative element that

moves the action ahead, taking its place in socially recognized lines of action and reaction. But to the extent that it is, it is not in resonance with intensity. It resonates to the exact degree to which it is in excess of any narrati'{e or functional line. In any case, language doubles the flow of images, on another level, on a different track. There is a redundancy of resonat ion that plays up or amplifies (feeds back disconnection, enabling a different connectiv� ity), and a redundancy of signification that plays out or linearizes (jumps the feedback loop between vital function and meaning into lines of socially valorized action and reaction). Language belongs to entirely different orders depending on which redundancy it enacts. Or, it always enacts both more or less completely: two languages, twO dimensions of every expression, one superlinear, the other linear. Every event takes place on both levels - and between both levels, as they resonate together to fonn a larger system composed of twO interacting subsystems following entirely different rules of formation. For clarity, it might be best to give different names to the two halves of the event. In this case: suspense could be distinguished from and interlinked with expectation, as superlinear and linear dimensions of the same image-event, which is at the same time an expression-event. Approaches to the image in its relation to language are incomplete jf they operate only on the semantic or semiotic level, however that level is defined (linguistically, logically, narratologically, ideologically, or all of these in combination, as a Symbolic) . What they lose, precisely, is the expression evem - in favor of structure. Much could be gained by integrating the dimension of intensity into cultural theory. The stakes are the new. For structure is the place where nothing ever happens, that explanatory heaven in which all eventual permutations

The Autonomy of Affect

221

are prefigured i n a self-consistent set of invariant generative rules. Nothing is prefigured in the event. It is the collapse of structured distinction into intensity, of rules into paradox. It is the suspension of the invariance that makes happy happy, sad sad, function function, and meaning mean. Could it be that it is through the expectant suspension of that suspense that the new emerges? As if an echo of irreducible excess, of gratuitous amplification, piggy-backed on the reconnection to progression, bringing a tinge of the unexpected, the lateral, the unmotivated, to lines of action and reaction. A change in the rules. The expression-event is the system of the inexplicable: emergence, into and against (re)generation (and the re-production of a structure) . In the case of the snowman, the unexpected and inexplic­ able that emerged along with the generated responses had to do with the differences between happiness and sadness, children and adults, not being all they're cracked up to be, much to our scientific chagrin: a change in the rules. Intensity is the unassimilable. For present purposes, intensity will be equated with affect. There seems to be a growing feeling within media, literary and art theory that affect is central to an understanding of our infonnation and image­ based late-capitalist culture, in which so-called master narratives are perceived to have foundered. Fredric Jameson notwithstanding, belief has waned for many, but not affect. If anything, our condition is characterized by a surfeit of it. The problem is that there is no cultural-theoretical vocabulary specific to affect.2 Our entire vocabu­ lary has derived from theories of signification that are still wedded to Structure even across irreconciliable differences (the divorce proceed­

n i gs of poststructuralism: tenninable or intenninable?). In the absence of an asignifying philosophy of affect, it is all too easy for received psychological ' categories to slip back in, undoing the considerable

deconstructive work that has been effectively carried out by poststruc­ turalism. Affect is most often used loosely as a synonym for emotion.) But one of the clearest lessons of this first story is that emotion and affect - if affect is intensity - follow different logics and pertain to different orders. An emotion is a subjective content, the socio-linguistic fixing of the quality of an experience which is from that point onward defined as personal. Emotion is qualified intensity, the conventional, consensual point of insertion of intensity into semantically and semiotically fonned progressions, into narrativizable action-reaction circuits, into function and meaning. It is intensity owned and recognized. It is crucial to theorize the difference between affect and emotion. If some have the impression that affect has waned, it is because affect is

222

Bn'an Massumi

unqualified. As such, it is not ownable or recognizable, and is thus resistent to critique. It is not that there are no philosophical antecedents to draw on. It is

just that they are not the usual ones for literary and cultural studies.

Spinoza is a fonnidable philosophical precursor on many of the points at issue here: the difference in nature between affect and emotion; the irreducibly bodily and autonomic nature of affect; affect as a suspen� sion of action-reaction circuits and linear temporality in a sink of what might be called 'passion', to distinguish it both from passivity and activity; the equation between affect and effect; the Conn/content of conventional discourse as constituting a separate stratum runnina: counter to the full registering of affect and its affirmation, its positive development, its expression as and for itself. The title of Spinoza', central work suggests a designation for the project of thinking affect: Ethics.4 Another story, about the brain: the mystery ofthe missing half-second. Experiments were performed on patients who had been implanted with conical electrodes for medical purposes. Mild electrical pulses

were administered to the electrode and also to points on the skin. In either case, the stimulation was felt only if it lasted more than half .

second: half a second, the minimum perceivable lapse. If the cortical electrode was fired a half second before the skin was stimulated, patients reported feeling the skin pulse first. The researcher specu� laled that sensation involves a 'backward referral in time' - in other words, that sensation is organized recursively before being linearized, before it is redirected outwardly to take its part in a conscious chain of actions and reactions. Brain and skin form a resonating vessel. Stimu­ lation turns inward, is folded into the body, except that there is no inside for it to be n i , because the body is radically open, absorbing impulses quicker than they can be perceived, and because the entire vibratory event is unconscious, out of mind. Its anomaly is smoothed over retrospectively to fit conscious requirements of continuity and linear causality.' What happens during the missing half second? A second experiment gave some hints. Brain waves of healthy volunteers were monitored by an elec­ troencephograph (EEG) machine. The subjects were asked to flex a finger at a moment of their choosing, and to note the time of their decision on a clock. The flexes came 0.2 seconds after they clocked the decision. But the EEG machine registered significant brain activity 0.3 before the decision. Again, a half second lapse between the

seconds

The Autonomy of Affect

223

beginning of a bodily event and its completion in an outwardly di­ rected, active expression. Asked to speculate on what implications all this might have for a doctrine of free will, the researcher, Benjamin Libel, 'proposes that we

may exert Jree will not by initiating intentions but by (lewing, acceding or otherwise responding w them after they arise'. 6 In other words, the half-second is missed not because it is empty, but because it is overfull, in excess of the actually-performed action and of its ascribed meaning. Will and consciousness are They are

limitatiw, ckn·wd Junctions

subtractive.

which reduce a complexity too

rich to be functionally expressed. It should be noted in particular that during the mysterious half-second, what we think of as 'free', 'higher' functions, such as volition, are apparently being performed by auton­ omic, bodily reactions occuring in the brain but outside conscious­ ness, and between brain and finger, but prior to action and expression. The formation of a volition is necessarily accompanied and aided by cognitive functions. Perhaps the snowman researchers of the first story couldn't find cognition because they were looking for it in the wrong place - in the 'mind', rather than in

the body

they were monitoring.

Talk of intensity inevitably raises the objection that such a notion involves an appeal to a pre-reflexive, romantically raw domain of primitive experiential richness - the nature in our culture. It is not that. First, because something happening out of mind n i a body directly absorbing its outside cannot exactly be said to be experienced.

Second, because volition, cognition, and presumably other 'higher'

functions usually presumed to be in the mind, figured as a mysterious

container of mental entities that is somehow separate from body and brain, are present and active in that now not-so 'raw' domain. Reson­ alion assumes feedback. 'Higher functions' belonging to the realm of qualified fonn/content in which identified, self-expressive persons interact in conventionalized action-reaction circuits following a linear time-line, are fed back into the realm of intensity and recursive cau­ sality. The body doesn't JUSt absorb pulses or discrete stimulations; it infolds

Contexts,

it infolds volitions and cognitions that are nothing if

not Situated. Intensity is asocial, but not presocial - it

includes social

elements, but mixes them with elements belonging to other levels of functioning, and combines them according to different logic. How could this be so? Only if the trau of past actions including a trace of their

COlll£xts were conserved in the brain and in the flesh, but out of mind and out of body understood as qualifiable interiorities, active and passive respectively, directive spirit and dumb maner. Only if past actions and contexts were conserved and repeated, autonomically

Brian Massumi

224

reactivated. but not accomplished; begun, but not completed. lmen.. it)' is incipience, incipient action and expression. Intensity is not only incipience, but the incipience of mutually exclusive pathways of action and expression that are then reduced, inhibited, prevented from actua_ lizing themselves completely - all but one. Since the crowd of preten_ ders to actualizatioQ are tending toward completion in a new Context, their incipience cannot just be a conservation and reactivation. They are tendencies

-

in other words, pastnesses opening onto a future, but

with no present to speak of. For the present is lost with the missing

half-second, passing too quickly [0 be perceived, tOO quickly, actually, to have happened.

This requires a reworking of how we think about the body. Some­ thing that happens tOO quickly to have happened. actually, is virtual. The body is as immediately virtual as it is actual. The virtual, the pressing crowd of incipiencies and tendencies, is a realm of potential. In potential is where futurity combines, unmediated. with pastness, where outsides are infolded, and sadness is happy (happy because the press to action and expression is life). The virtual is a lived paradoz where what are normally opposites coexist. coalesce, and connect; where what cannot be experienced cannot but be felt - albeit reduced and contained. For out of the pressing crowd an individual action or expression will emerge and be registered consciously. One 'wills' it to emerge, to be qualified, to take on socio-linguistic meaning, to enter linear action-reaction circuits, to become a content of one's life - by dint of inhibition. Since the virtual is unliveable even as it happens, it can be thought of as a form of superlinear abstraction that does not obey the law of the excluded middle, that is organized differently but is inseparable from the concrete activity and expressivity of the body. The body is as immediately abstract as it is concrete; its activity and expressivity extend, as on their underside, into an incorporeal, yet perfectly real, dimension of pressing potential. It is Bergson who stands as a philosophical precursor on many of these points: the brain as a centre of indetermination; consciousness as subtractive and inhibitive; perception as working to infold extended actions and expressions, and their situatedness, into a dimension of intensity or intension as opposed to extension; the continual doubling of tbe actual body by this dimension of intensity, understood as a superlinear, superabstract realm of potential; that realm of the virtual as having a different temporal structure, in which past and future brush shoulders with no mediating present, and as having a different, recursive causality; the virtual as cresting in a liminal realm of emer-

Th� A utonomy ofAffect

225

gence, where half-actualized actions and expressions arise like waves on a sea to which most no sooner return.' Bergson could profitably be read together with Spinoza. One of Spinoza's basic defmitions of affect is an 'affection (in other words an impingement upon) the body, and at the sam� tjm� the dea i of the affection'. This stans sounding suspiciously Bergsonian if it is noted that the body, when impinged upon, is described by Spinoza as being in state of passional suspension in which it exists more outside of itself, more in the abstracted action of the impinging thing and the ab­ stracted context of that action, than within itself; and if it is noted that the idea in question is not only not conscious but is not in the first instance in the 'mind'. In Spinoza, it is only when the idea of the affection is doubled by an idea of rhe idea of the affection that it attains the level of conscious reflection. Conscious reflection is a doubling over of the idea on itself, a self-recursion of the idea that enwraps the affection or impinge­ ment, at twO removes. For it has already been removed once, by the body itself. The body infolds the effect of the impingement - it conser­ ves the impingement minus the impinging thing, the impingement abstracted from the actual action that caused it and actual context of that action. This is a first-order idea produced spomaneously by the body: the affection is immediately, spontaneously doubled by the repeatable trace of an encounter, the 'form' of an encounter, in Spinoza's terminology (an infolding, or contraction, of context in the vocabulary of this essay). The trace determines a tendency, the poten­ tial, if not yet the appetite, for the autonomic repetition and variation of the impingement. Conscious reflection is the doubling over of this dynamic abstraction on itself. The order of connection of such dy­ namic abstractions among themselves, on a level specific to them, is called mind. The autonomic tendency received second-hand from the body is raised to a higher power to become an activity of the mind. Mind and body are seen as two levels recapitulating the same image/expression event in different but parallel ways, ascending by degrees from the concrete to the incorporeal, holding to the same absent centre of a now spectral - and potentialized - encounter. Spinoza's Ethics is the philosophy of the becoming-active, in parallel, of mind and body, from an origin in passion, in impingement, in so pure and productive a receptivity that it can only be conceived as a third state, an excluded middle, prior to the distinction between activity and passivity: affect. This 'origin' is never left behind, but doubles one like a shadow that is always almost perceived, and cannot but be perceived, in effect.

226

Brian Massumi

It is Deleuze who reopened the paths to Bergson and Spinoza, although nowhere does he patch them directly into each other. His

work and theirs could profitably be read together with recent theories

of complexity and chaos.e It is all a question of emergUlc£, which is

precisely the focus of the various science-derived theories which con_

verge around the notion of self-organization (the spontaneous produc_

tion of a level of reality having its own rules of formation and order of

connection). Affect or intensity in the present account is akin to what is called a critical point, or a bifurcation point, or singular point,

in

chaos theory and the theory of dissipative structures. This is the turning point at which a physical system paradoxically embodies

multiple and normally mutually exclusive potentials. only one of which is ·selected.' 'Phase space' could be seen as a diagrammatic:

rendering of the dimension of the virtual. The organization of multiple

levels that have different logics and temporal organizations but are

locked in resonance with each other and recapitulate the same event in

divergent ways, recalls the fractal ontology and nonlinear causality underlying theories of complexity. The levels at play could be multiplied to infinity: already mentioned. are mind and body. but also volition and cognition, at least two orden of language, expectation and suspense, body depth and epidennis, past and future, action and reaction, happiness and sadness, quies­ cence and arousal, passivity and activity, etc. These could be seen Dot as binary oppositions or contradictions, but as resonating levels. Affect is their point of emergence, in their actual specificity; and it is their vanishing point. in singularity, in their virtual coexistence and inter­ connection - that critical point shadowing every image/expression­ event. Although the realm of intensity that Deleuu's philosoph, strives to conceprualize is ttanscendental in the sense that it is not directly accessible to experience, it is not ttanscendent, it is not exactly outside experience either. It is immanent to it - always in it but not of it. lntensity and experience accompany one another, like two murually presupposing dimensions, or like twO sides of a coin. Intensity is immanent to matter and to events, to mind and to body and to every level of bifurcation composing them and which they compose. Thus it also cannot but be experienced, in effect - in the proliferations of levels of organization it ceaselessly gives rise to, generates and regener­ ates, at every suspended moment. Deleuze's philosophy is the point at which transcendental philosophy flips over into a radical immanen­ tism, and empiricism into ethical experimentation. The Kantian im­ perative to understand the conditions of possible experience as lffrorn outside and above ttansposes into an invitation to recapitulate, to

The Autonomy ofAffect

227

repeat and complexify, at ground level, the real conditions of emer­ gence, not of the categorical, but of the unclassifiable, the unassimil­ able, the never-yet felt, the felt for less than half a second, again for the first time - the new. Kant meets Spinoza, where idealism and empiri­ cism turn pragmatic, becoming a midwifery of invention - with no loss in abstractive or inductive power. Quite the contrary - both are heightened. But now abstraction is synonymous with an unleashing of potential, rather than its subtraction. And the sense of induction has changed, to a triggering of a process of complexifying self-organiza­ tion. The implied ethics of the project is the value attached - without foundation, with desire only - to the multiplication of powers of existence. to ever-divergent regimes of action and expression.

Feed-back (Digression) A

key to the rethinking of affect is the feedback of atoms of 'higher' modes of organization into a level of emergence. The philosopher of science Gilbert Simondon sees this functioning even on the physical level, where 'germs' of forms are present in an emergent dimension along with unformed elements such as tropisms (attractors), distribu­ tions of potential energy (gradients defining metastabilities), and non­ localized relations (resonation). According to Simondon, the dimension of the emergent - which he terms the 'preindividual' cannot be understood in terms of form, even if it n i folds forms in a germinal state. It can only be analysed as a continuous but highly differentiated field that is 'out of phase' with fonned entities (has a different topology and causal order from the 'individuals' which arise from it and whose fonns return to it).9 A germinal or 'implicit' fonn cannot be understood as a shape or structure. It is more a bundle of potential functions localized, as a differentiated region, within a larger field of potential. In each region, a shape or structure begins to form, but no sooner dissolves, as its region shifts in relation to the others with which it is in tension. There is a kind of bubbling of structuration in a turbulent soup of regions of swirling potential. The regions are separated from each other by dynamic thresholds rather than by boundaries. Simondon calls these regions of potential 'quanta', even as they appear on the macrophysicai level, and even on the human level (hence the atomic allusion) .lo The 'regions' are as abstract as they are actual, in the sense that they do not define boundaried spaces, but are rather mobile differentiations within an open field charac­ terized by action at a distance between elements (anractors, gradients,

228

Bn"an Massumi

resonation) . The limits of the region, and of the entire field (the . universe), are defined by the reach of its elements' collective actions at a distance. The limit will not be a sharp demarcation, more like a multidimensional fading to infinity. The field is open in the sense it has no interiority or exteriority: it is limited and infinite. 'Implicit' fonn is a bundling of potential functions, an infolding or contraction of potential interactions (intension). The playing out of those potentials requires an unfolding in three-dimensional space and linear time - extension as actualization; actualization as expression. It is in expression that the fade-out occurs. The limits 0/ the field of

emergence are in its actual expression. Implicit fonn may be thought of as the effective presence of the sum total of a things's interactions, minua the thing. It is a thing's relationality autonomized as a dimension of the real. This autonomization of relation is the condition under which 'higher' functions feed back. Emergence, once again, is a two-sided. coin: one side in the Yinual (the autonomy of relation), the other in the actual (functional limitation). 'What is being termed affect in this essay is precisely this two-sidedness. the simultaneous participation of the virtual in the actual and the actual in the virtual. as one arises from and returns to the other. Affect is this two-sidedness as seen from the side of

the actual thing. as couched in its perceptions and cognitions. Affect is the virtual as point of view, provided the visual metaphor is used guardedly. For affect is synaesthetic. implying a panicipation of the senses in each other: the measure of a living thing's potential interac­ tions is its ability to transform the effects of one sensory mode into those of another (tactility and vision being the most obvious but by no means only examples; interoceptive senses. especially proprioception. are crucial) . I I Affects are virtual sJmaesrhetic perspectives anchored in (functionally limited by) the actually existing, particular things that

embody them. The autonomy of affect is its participation in the virtual.

Its autonomy is its openness. Affect is autonomous to the degree to which it escapes confinement in the particular body whose vitality. or poten­ tial for interaction. it is. Formed, qualified, situated perceptions and cognitions fulfilling functions of actual connection or blockage. are the

capture and closure of affect. Emotion is the intensest (most con­ tracted) expression of that capture - and of the fact that something has always and again escaped. Something remains unactualized, insepar­ able from but unassimilable to any particular, functionally anchored perspective. That is why all emotion is more or less disorienting, and why it is classically described as being outside of oneself, at the very point at which one is most intimately and unshareably in contact with oneself and one's vitality. [f there were no escape, no excess or

The AUlonomy of Affect

229

remainder, no fade-out to infinity, the universe would be without potential, pure entropy, death. Actually existing. structured things live in and through that which escapes them. Their autonomy is the autonomy of affect. The escape of affect cannot but be percei�ed, alongside the perceptions that are its capture. This side-perception may be punctual, localized in an event (such as the sudden realization that happiness and sadness are something besides what they are). When it is punctual, it is usually described in negative terms, typically as a form of shock (the sudden interruption of of functions of actual connection).l2 But it is also continuous, like a background perception that accompanies every event, however quotidian. When the continuity of affective escape is put into words, it tends to take on positive connotations. For it is nothing less than

lire perception of one's

own

vitality, one's sense of

aliveness, of changeability (often signified as 'freedom'). One's 'sense of aliveness' is a continuous, nonconscious self-perceptioll (unconscious self-reflection) . It is the perception of this self-perception, its naming

and making conscious, that allows affect to be effectively analysed - as long as a vocabulary can be found for that which is imperceptible but whose escape from perception cannot b�t be perceived, as long as one is alive. U

Simondon notes the connection between self-reflection and affect.

He even extends the capacity for self-reflection to all living thingsl . ­ although it is hard t o see why his own analysis does not constrain him to extend it to all

things (is

not resonation a kind of self-reflection?) .

Spinoza could be read as doing this in his definition of the idea of the affection as a trace - one that is not without reverberations. More radically, he sees ideas as attaining their most adequate (most self-or­ ganized) expression not in us but in the 'mind' of God. But then he defines God as Nature (understood as encompassing the human, the artificial, and the invented). Deleuze dispenses with God, but retains the nOlion that ideality is a dimension of matter (also understood as encompassing the human, the anificial, and the invented).15 The distinction between the living and the nonliving, the biological and the physical, is not the presence or absence of reflection, but its directness. Our brains and nervous systems effect the autonomization of relation, in an interval smaller than the smallest perceivable, even though the operation arises from perception and returns to it. In the more primitive organisms, this autonomization is accomplished by organism-wide networks of interoceptive and exteroceptive sense-re­ ceptors whose impulses are not centralized in a brain. One could say i its brain. In all living things, the autonomization of that a jelly-fish s

230

Brian Massumi

relation is effected by a centre of indetermination (8 localized or organism-wide function of resonation that de-linearizes causality in

order to fe-linearize it with a change of direction: from reception to reaction). At the fundamental physical level, there is no such media­ tion.1b The place of physical nonmediation between the virtual and the actual is explored by quantum mechanics. Just as 'higher' functions

are fed back - all the way to the subatomic (i.e., position and momen_ tum) - quantum indeterminacy is fed forward. It rises through the fractal bifurcations leading to and between each of the superposed levels of realiry. On each level, it appears in a unique mode adequate to that level. On the level of the physical macrosystems analysed by Simondon. its mode is potential energy and the margin of 'play' it introduces into deterministic systems (epitomized by the three-body problem so dear to chaos theory) . On the biological level, it is the margin of undecidability accompanying every perception, which is one with a perception's transmissibility from one sense to another. On the human level, it is that same undecidability fed forward into thought,

as evidenced in the deconstructability of every structure of ideas (•• expressed, for example, in GMel's incompleteness theorem and in

Derrida's dilfirana) . Each individual and collective human level hu its peculiar 'quantum' mode (various fonns of undecidability in logical and signifying systems are }ained by emotion on the psychological level, resistance on the political level, the spectre of crisis hauntinc capitalist economies, etc.). These modes are fed back and fed forward. into one another, echoes of each other one and all. Returning to the difference between the physical and the biological, it is clear that there can be no firm dividing line between them, nOT between them and the human. Affect, like thought or reflection, could be extended to any or every level, providing that the uniqueness of its functioning on that level is taken into account. The difference between the dead, the living, and the human is not a question of fonn or structure, nor of the properties possessed by the embodiments of fonns or structures, nor of the qualified functions perfonned by those embodiments (their utility or ability to do work). The distinction between kinds of things and levels of reality is a question of degree: of the way in which modes of organization (such as reflection) are dif­ ferentially present on every level, bar the extremes. The extremes are the quantum physical and the human inasmuch as it aspires to or confuses itself with the divine (which occurs wherever notions of eternity, identity, and essence are operative). Neither extreme can be said to exist, although each could be said to be real, in entirely different ways (the quantum is productive of effective reality, and the

The Autonomy of Affect

231

divine is effectively produced, as a fiction) . In between, lies a conti­ nuum of existence differentiated into levels, or regions of potential, between which there are no boundaries, only dynamic thresholds. As Simondon notes, all of this makes it difficult to speak of either transcendence or immanence.11 No matter what one does, they tend to flip over into each other, in a kind of spontaneous Deleuzian combustion. It makes little difference if the field of existence (being plus potential; the actual in its relation with the virtual) is thought of as an infinite interiority or a parallelism of mutual exteriorities. You get burned either way. Spinoza had it both ways (an indivisible sub­ stance divided into parallel attributes) . To the extent that the terms transcendence and immanence connote spatial relations - and they inevitably do - they are inadequate to the task. A philosophical sleight

of hand like Spinoza's is always necessary. The trick is to get comfort­ able with productive paradox. All of this - the absence of a clear line of demarcation between the physical, the vital, the human, and the superhuman; the undecida­ bility of immanence and transcendence - also has implications for ethical thought. A common thread running through the varieties of social constructivism currently dominant in cultural theory holds that everything, including nature, is constructed in discourse. The classical definition of the human as the rational animal returns in new permu­ tation: the human as the chanering animal. Only the animal is brac­ keted: the human as the chattering of culture. This reinstates a rigid divide between the human and the nonhuman, since it has become a commonplace, after Lacan, to make language the special preserve of the human (chattering chimps notwithstanding). Now saying that the quantum level is transformed by our perception is not the same as · saying that it is only in our perception; saying that nature is discursive­ ly constructed is not necessarily the same as saying that nature is in discourse. Social constructivism easily leads to a cultural solipsism analogous to subjectivist interpretations of quantum mechanics. In this worst-case solipsist scenario, nature appears as immanent to CUlture (as its construct). At best, when the status of nature is deemed unworthy of anention, it is simply shunted aside. In that case it appears, by default, as transcendent to culture (as its inert and meaningless remainder). Perhaps the difference between best and worst is not all that it is cracked up to be. For in either case, nature as naturing, nature as having its own dynamism, is erased. Theoretical moves aimed at ending Man end up making human culture the measure and meaning of all things, in a kind of unfettered anthropo­ morphism precluding - to take one example - articulations of cultural

232

Bn"an Massumi

theory and ecology. It is meaningless to interrogate the relation of the human to the nonhuman if the nonhuman is only a construct of human culture, or inerttless. The concepts afnature and culture need serious reworking, in a way that expresses the irreducible alterity of the nonhuman in and through its active connection to the human, and vice versa. Let matter be maner, brains be brains, jellyfish be jellyfish, and culture be nature, in irreducible allent}' and infinite connection. The last story was of the brain. This one is of the brainless. His name is Ronald Reagan. The S[ory comes from a well-known book of pop­ neurophysiology by Oliver Sacks. II

Sacks describes watching a televised speech by the 'Great Com­ municator' in a hospital ward of patients suffering from twO kinds of cognitive dysfunction. Some were suffering from global aphasia, which rendered them incapable of understanding words as such. They could nonetheless understand most of what was said, because they compen­ sated by developing extraordinary abilities to read extraverbal cues: inflection, facial expression, and other gestures - body language. Others on the ward were suffering from what is called tonal agnosia. which is the inverse of aphasia. The ability to hear the expressiveness of the voice is lost. and with it goes attention to other exttaverbal cues. Language is reduced to its grammatical form and semantic or logical content. Neither group appeared to be Reagan voters. In fact, the speech was universally greeted by howls of laughter and expressions of outrage. The 'Great Communicator' was failing to persuade. To the aphasiacs. he was functionally illiterate in extraverbal cueing; his body language struck them as hilariously n i ept. He was, after all, a recycled bad actor, and an ageing one at that. The agnosiacs were outraged that the man couldn't put together a grammatical sentence or follow a logical line to its conclusion. He came across to them as intellectually impaired. (It must be recalled that this is long before the onset of Reagan's recently announced A1zheimer's disease - what does that say about the difference between normality and degeneration?) Now all of this might have come as news to those who think of Reagan and other posunodem political stars on the model of charis­ matic leadership. in which the fluency of a public figure's gestural and tonal repertoire mesmerizes the masses. lulling them into bleary-eyed belief in the content of the mellifluous words. On the contrary, what is astonishing is that Reagan wasn't laughed and jeered off the campaign podium and was swept into office not once but twice. It wasn't that people didn't hear his verbal fumbling or re<:ognize the incoherence of his thoughts. They were the butt of constant jokes and news stories.

The Autonomy 0/ Affect

233

And it wasn't that what he lacked on the level of verbal coherence was glossed over by the seductive fluency of his body image. Reagan was more famous for his polyps than his poise, and there was a collective fascination with his faltering health and regular shedding of bits and pieces of himself. The on1y conclusion is that Reagan was an effective leader not in spite of but because of his double dysfunction. He was able [0 produce ideological effects by non·ideological means, a global shift in the political direction ofthe United States by falling apan. His means were affective. Once again: affective, as opposed to emotional. This is not about empathy or emotive identification, or any form of identification for that marter.19 Reagan politicized the power of mime. That power is in interrup­ tion. A mime decomposes movement, cutS its continuity into a poten­ tially infinite series of submovements punctuated by jerks. At each jerk, at each cut into the movement, the potential is there for the movement to veer off in another direction, to become a different movement. Each jerk suspends the continuity of the movement, for just a nash, too quick really to perceive - but decisively enough to suggest a veer. This compresses into the movement under way poten­ tial movements that are in some way made present without being actualized. In other words, each jerk is a critical point, a singular point. a bifurcation point. At that point. the mime almost impercep· tibly intercalates a flash of virtuality into the actual movement under way. The genius of the mime is also the good fortune of the bad actor. Reagan's gestural idiocy had a mime effect. As did his verbal inco· herence, in the register of meaning. He was a communicative jerk. The two levels of interruption, those of linear movement and conventional progressions of meaning, were held together by the one Reagan feature that did, I think. hold positive appeal - the timbre of his voice, that beautifully vibratory voice. Two parallel lines of abstractive suspense resonated together. His voice embodied the resonation. It embodied the abstraction. It was the embodiment of an asignifying intensity doubling his every actual move and phrase, following him like the shadow of a mime. It was the continuity of his discontinuities.20 Reagan operationalized the virtual in postmodem politics. Alone. he was nothing approaching an ideologue. He was nothing. an idiocy musically coupled with an incoherence. That's a bit unfair. He was an incipience. He was unqualified and without content. But the inci· picnce that he was, was prolonged by technologies of image trans· mission, and then relayed by apparatuses, such as the family or the chUrch or the school or the chamber of commerce, which in conjunc· tion with the media acted as part of the nervous system of a new and

234

frighteningly �active body politic. It was on the receiving end that the Reagan incipience was qualified, given content. Receiving apparatuses fulfilled the inhibitory, limitative function. They selected one line of movement, one progression of meaning, to actualize and implant locally. That is why Reagan CQuid be so many things to so many people; that is why the majoriry of the electorate could disagree with him on every major issue, but still vote for him. Because he was actualized. in their neighborhood, as a movement and a meaning of their selection - or at least selected for them, with their acquiescence. He was a man for all inhibitions. It was commonly said that he ruled primarily by projecting an air of confidence. That was the emotional tenor of his political manner, dysfunction notwithstanding. Con­ fidence is the emotional translation of affect as capturable life potential; it is a particular emotional expression and becoming-conscious of one's side-perceived sense of vitality. Reagan transmitted vitality, virtuality, tendency, in sickness and interruption. (,I am in control here', cried the general, when Reagan was shot. He wasn't, actually.) The actualizations relaying the Reagan incipience varied. But with the exception of the cynical, the aphasic, and the agnosic, they consistent­ ly included an overweening feeling of confidence - that of the sup­ posedly sovereign individual within a supposedly great nation at whose helm idiocy and incoherence reigned. In other words, Reagan was many things to many people, but within a general framework of affective jingoism. Confidence is the apotheosis of affective capture. Functionalized and nationalized, it feeds directly into prison construc� tion and neo-colonial adventure. What is of dire interest now, post-Reagan, is the extent to which he contracted into his person operations that might be argued to be endemic to late-capitalist, image-and information-based economies. Think of the image/expression-events in which we bathe. Think inter­ ruption. Think of the fast cuts of the video clip or the too-cool TV

commercial. Think of the cuts from TV programming to commercials.

Think of the cutS across programming and commercials achievable through zapping. Think of the distractedness of television viewing, the constant cuts from the screen to its immediate surroundings, to the viewing context where other actions are performed in fits and starts as i congruent juxtapositions of attention flits. Think of the joyously n surfing the Internet. Think of our bombardment by commercial im­ ages off the screen, at every step in our daily rounds. Think of imagistic operation of the consumer object, as turnover time increases as fast as styles can be recycled. Everywhere, the cut, suspense incipience. Virtuality, perhaps?ll

The AUlonomy of Affecl

235

Affect holds a key to rethinking postmodern power after ideology. For although ideology is still very much with us, often in the most virulent of forms, it is no longer encompassing. It no longer defines the global mode of functioning of power. It is now one mode of power in a larger field that is not defined, overall, by ideology.22 This makes it all the more pressing to connect ideology to its real conditions of emergence. For these are now manifest, mimed by men of power. One way of conceptualizing the non-ideological means by which ideology is produced might deploy the notions of induction and transduction induction being the triggering of a qualification, of a containment, an actualization; and transduction being the transmission of an impulse of virtuality from one actualization to another, and across them all (what Guattari calls transversality). Transduction is the transmission ofa force of potential that cannot but be felt, simultaneously doubling, enabling and ultimately counteracting the limitative selections of ap­ paratuses of actualization and implantation.2' This amounts to prop­ osing an ana/og theory of image-based power: images as the conveyors of forces of emergence; as vehicles for existential potentialization and transfer. In this, tOO, there are notable precursors. In particular, Walter Benjamin, whose concept of shock and image bombardment, whose analyses of the unmediated before-after temporality of what he called the 'dialectical image', whose fascination with mime and mim­ icry, whose connecting of tactility to vision, all have much to offer an affective theory of late-<:apitalist power.24 At this point, the impression may have grown that affect is being [Outed as if the whole world could be packed into it. In a way, it can, and is. The affective 'atoms' that overfill the jerk of the power-mime are monads, inductiveltransductive virtual perspectives fading out in all directions to infinity, separated from one another by dynamic thresholds. They are autonomous, not through closure but through a singular openness. As unbounded 'regions' in an equally unbounded affective field, they are in contact with the whole universe of affective potential, as by action at a distance. Thus they have no outside, even though they are differentiated according to which potentials are most apt to be expressed (effectively induced) as their 'region' passes into

i the whole actuality. Their passing into actuality is the key. Affect s

world: from the precise angle of its differential emergence. How the element of virtuality is construed - whether past or future, inside or Outside, transcendent or immanent, sublime or abject, atomized or Continuous - is in a way a matter of indifference. It is all of these things, differently in every actual case. Concepts of the virtual in itself are important only to the extent to which they contribute to a prag-

Bn"an Massumi

236

matie understanding of emergence, to the extent to which they enable triggerings of change (induce the new). It is the edge ofvinual, where it leaks into actual, that counts. For that seeping edge is where potential, actually, is found. Resistance is manifestly not automatically a part of image reception in late capitalist cultures. But neither can the dfect of the mass-media and other image and information-based media simply be explained in lenns of a lack: a waning of affect, or a decline in belief, or alienation.

The mass media are massively potentializing - but that the potential is inhibited, and both the emergence of the potential and itS limitation are pan and parcel of the culrural-political functioning of the media, as connected to other apparatuses. Media transmissions are breaches of indetennination. For them to have any specific effect they must be determined to have that effect by apparatuses of actualization and implantation that plug into them and transfonnatively relay what they give rise to (family, church, school, chamber of commerce, to name but a few). The need actively to actualize media transmission is as true for reactive politics as it is for a politics of resistance, and requires a new understanding of the body in its relation to signification and the ideal or incorporeal. In North America at least, the far right is far more

attuned to the imagistic potential of the postmodem body than the established left, and has exploited that advantage for the last decade and a half. Philosophies of affect, potential, and actualization may aid in finding counter-tactics.

NOTES An expanded version of this essay appears in CuirUTai Critiqut (Autumn Hertha Sturm,

1995).

Emotional Effects oj Media: The Work oj Hmha Srurm, ed.

Gertrude loch Robinson. Working Papers in Communications (Mon­ treal: McGill University Graduate Program in Communications,

1987),

pp. 25-37.

2

The thesis on the waning ofaffea in Jameson's classic essay on posunod­ ernism powerfully raised the issue of affect for cultural theory. 'The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism', in

oj Lou Capitalism, LondonJNew York:

Postmodvnism: The Cultural Logic Verso,

1991, pp. I-54. The most

sustained and successful exploration of affect arising from subsequent

We Gotto Ger Oue oj Ths i Place: Popular ComervarJm i and Postmodern Culture, New YorklLondon: Routledge, debates is Lawrence Grossberg,

1992. The present essay shares many strands with Grossberg's work, including the conviction that affect has become pervasive rather than

237

The AUlOnomy of Affeer

having waned. Differences with Grossberg will be signalled in subsequent notes.

3

Grossberg slips into an equation between affect and emotion at many points, despite distinguishing them in his defmitions. The slippage begins in the definition itself, when affect is defined quantitatively as the strength of an investment and qualitatively as the nature of a concern

(82). This is done in order to avoid the perceived trap of asserting that affect is unformed and unstructured, a move whic:h Grossberg worries makes its analysis impossible. I t is argued here that affect is indeed unformed and unstructured, but that it is nevertheless highly organized and effectively analysable (it is not entirely containable in knowledge, but is analysable in effect, as effect). The crucial point is that form and structure are not the only conceivable modes of differentiation. Here,

affect is seen as prior to or apart from the qualitative, and its opposition with the quantitative, and therefore not fundamentally a matter of invest·

ment (if a thermodynamic model applies, it is not classical but quantum and far·from·equilibriumj more on this later). For more on the relation between affect and quality/quantity, see B. Massumi, 'The Bleed: Where Body Meets Image', in Rethinking Borders, ed. John Welchman, London:

Macmillan/Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1996.

4

The reference to conventional discourse in Spinoza is to what he calls 'universal notions' (classificatory concepts that attribute to things defm­ ing structural properties and obey the law of the excluded middle) and 'transcendental notions' (teleological concepts explaining a thing by ref­ erence to an origin or end in some way contained in its form). in

The Collected Works of Spinoza,

The Ethics,

ed. and trans. Edwin Curley, vol.

I

(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985), book 2, proposition 40, scholium 1 .

5

The retrospective character of anributions of linear causality and logical consistency was analysed by Henri Bergson under the rubric: of the 'retrograde movement of truth.' See

The Creative Mind, trans. Mabelle L.

Andison, New York: Philosophical lJbrary, 1946, pp. 27-8, 107-25.

6

John Horgan, 'Can Science Explain Consciousness?',

7

See in particular Matter and Memory, trans. N. M. Paul and W. S. Palmer,

8

Felix Guattari's last book explores the intersection between his work, solo

(July 1994)

Scientific American

76-7.

New York: Zone Books, 1988, esp. ch. l . with Deleuze, and chaos theory.

Chaosmose,

Paris: Galilee, 1992; publish·

ed in English as Chaosmosis, SydneylBloomington: Power PublicationslIn­

9

diana University Press, trans. Julian Pefanis and Paul Bains, 1995. See Gilbert Simondon,

L'individu et sa genbe physic(1-biologique,

Paris:

Presses Universitaires de France, 1964, in particular chapter 2 (an analysis of the chemistry of crystallization). Simondon carries out throughout his work a far-reaching critique of concepts of fonn and structure in philosophy and the natural and social sciences.

10

Gilbert Simondon,

L'individuation psychique et collective, Paris: Aubier,

1989, p. 99.

II

Meets Image'.

12

A connection could be made here with the work of Walter Benjamin on

On proprioception and affect, see Massumi, 'The Bleed: Where Body

shock and the circulation of images. Susan Buck-Morss quotes from Benjamin's Passagen-werk on the 'monadological structure' of 'dialectical images'. This structure is a 'force-field' manifesting a nonlinear tempo­ rality (a conflict between 'fore-history' and 'after-history' in direct con­ nection with one another, skipping over the present without which the conflict would nevertheless not take place: 'in order for a piece of the past to be touched by present actuality, there must be no connection between them'). 'Dream-world of Mass Culture: Walter Benjamin's Theory of Modernity and the Dialectics of Seeing', in Modenlity

and the Hegemony of Vision, ed. Michael Levin, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993, p. 3 1 2 . 13

For a bri l liant analysis of affect in terms of intensity, vitality, synaesthesia ('amodal perception'), and nonconscious sense of self, see Daniel Stem,

14 15

The ImerpmonaJ World of the Infam: A View from Psychoanalysis and DevelopmenUJI Psychology, New York: Basic Books, 1985. Simondon, L 'individuation psychique et collective, p. 149. See i n panicular, Difference and Repetition, trans. Paul Patton, New York: Columbia University Press, 1994, pp. 271-2 and A Thousand PlateaUJ, trans. Brian Massumi, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press,

1987, p. 1 4 1 . 16

Cnema i 1: Tilt Movement-Image, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, Min­ neapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1986, chs 1 and 3 (in relation to Deleuze discusses perception, the brain, and maner i n

Bergson) . Deleuze and Guattari make the connection between the brain and chaos n i

What is Philosophy?, New York: Columbia University Press,

1993, conclusion.

L 'individuation psychique et collective, p . 156. The Man Who Mistook His Wife/ar a Hat, London: Picador,

17

Simondon,

18

Oliver Sacks,

19

O n these and other topics, including gory detail o f Reagan's crumblings,

1985, pp. 76-80. see Kenneth Dean and Brian Massumi, First and Last Emperors: The Absolute State and the Body of the Despot, New York: AUlonomedialSemi­ otcxte, 1992. The statement that ideology - like every actual structure ­ is produced by operations that do not occur at its level and do not folloW its logic is simply a reminder that it is necessary to n i tegrate infolding, or what David Bohm calls 'implicate order' into the account. This is necess­ ary 10 avoid capture and closure on a plane of signification. It signals the measure of openness onto heterogeneous realities of every ideological structure, however absolutist. It is a gesture for the conceptual enable­ ment of resistance in connection with the real. Ideology is construed here

The Autonomy of Affect

239

in both the common-sense meaning as a struCtu� of belief, and in the

20

cultural-theoretical sense of an interpellative subject positioning. MitamorphoseJ du corps, Paris: Editions de la

On mime, see Jose Gil,

Difference, 1985 pp. 102-4. Forthcoming in English as Metamorphoses 0/

the Body, trans. Stephen Muecke (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota 21

Press). The main difference between this perspective and that of Lawrence Grossberg is that his approach does not develop a sustainable distinction between belWeen virtuality and actuality, intension and extension. Al­ though Meaghan Morris does not use the term affect, her analysis of the

function of the 1V screen brings her approach to the mass media into

close philosophical affinity with the one being developed here. In 'Ecstasy and Economics (A Portrait of Paul Keating)" she describes the screen image as triggering a 'phase of empowennent' that is also a 'passage' and 'transport', not between twO places but between a place and a non-place, an 'elsewhere': 'the screen . . . is not a border between comparable places or spaces . . . What visibly "exists" there, "bathed" in glow, is me�ly a "what" - a relative pronoun, a bit of language, that

relarion "your words

describe" '. That relation is a 'sociable disjunction'. Meaghan Morris,

Ecstasy and Economics: American Essays jorJohn Forbes, Sydney: Empress Publishing, 1992, pp. 70-2.

22

For one account of how this larger field functions, see Gilles Deleuze, 'Postscript on Control Societies', n i Negotiations 1972-1990, trans. Mar­

23 24

tin Joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995, pp. 1 77-82. The concept of transduction is taken, with modifications, from the work of Gilben Simondon.

In addition to the quotes in Buck-Morss cited in note 1 2 above, see in

panicular 'On the Mimetic Faculty', in Walter Benjamin,

One Way Street,

London: Verso, 1985, pp. 1 60-3. See also Michael Taussig, 'Tactility and Vision', in

The NertJOus System, New York: Routledge, 1992, pp.

1 4 1-8. Bakhtin also develops an analog theory of language and image, in which synaesthesia and the infolding of context discussed earlier in this essay figure prominently: 'The Problem of Content, Material, and Form in Verbal An', n i

Art and Answerability: Early Philosophical Essays, ed.

Michael Holquist and Vadim Liapunov, trans. Vadim Liapunov, Austin:

University of Texas, 1990, pp. 257-325.

12

Schizoanalysis and Baudelaire: Some Illustrations of Decoding at Work Eugene W. Holland

Whether Oeleuze and Guatlari were actually 'doing philosophy' in the

Anti�Oedipus or not,

their last collaborative work

What si Philosophy?

may shed some light on the status of the concepts operating in that

early work. I Unlike scientific concepts, which aim to stabilize and identify specific domains within the real, philosophical concepts cording to Deleuze and Guattari operate as what I call(transformers':2 they intervene in established philosophical problematics in order- t destabilize them, reworking old concepts and forging new connections among the distinctive feaNres composing them. What is remarkable about the

Anti-Oedipus,

in this light (and perhaps this is what makes

its mode of intervention seem more than just philosophical), is that its destabilization of established problematics involves making new con­ nections

with histon·cal context, as well

as realigning concepts into new

constellations.} The term 'decoding', for example, which is central to the

Anti-Oedipus, is best

understood not on its own, but in relation to

the concepts it transforms in the course of producing schizoanalysis out of the problematics of historical materialism and psychoanalysis in the wake of the events of 1968 in France.· My aim here will thus be not so much to explain what decoding and what it can

do

"teans as

to show how it works

in the way of textual and cultural analysis of

modernism in the figure of Baudelaire. Since concepts as transformers intervene in other contexts instead of governing domains of their own, they have no independent, autono­ mous content - apart from what they acquire through use in context.

Schizoanalysis and Baudelaire

241

What makes philosophical concepts 'user-friendly' for Deleuze and Guauari, in other words, is also what makes them so challenging: they are strategically underdetermined, and thus only take shape - to bor­ row one of Deleuze's favourite polyvocal expressions - 'au milieu': i"

cotileXC and in between their point of departure and a point of arrival or connection with some other object.' Here, connecting schizoanalysis with Baudelaire will enable me not only to show how decoding works (in this context), but also to situate Baudelaire in the context of postmodemism, and hence resituate him in relation to and somehow already beyond the very modernism he did so much to help invent. The decoding of modernism in Baudelaire is thus not only what happens to an earlier romanticism he puts behind him, but also what happens to modernism itself, especially in the late prose poems.' Decoding is, in the first place, Deleuze and Guattari's translation into semiotic terms of the concepts of rationalization and reification, by which Weber and Lukacs designated the historical replacement 0

meaning by abstract calculation as the basis of social order. More in agreement with Lukacs than with Weber, they explain this process as a function ofthe capitalist market and the predominance of exchange­ value. To be more specific, decoding is linked to axiomatization, the process central to capitalism whereby streams of quantified factors of production (such as raw materials, skills and knowledges) are con­ joined in order to extract a differential surplus; decoding both sup-

<':\

pons and results from axiomatization, transforming meaningful qualities into calculable quantities. Deleuze and Guattari disagree radically with both Weber and Lukacs, however, in considering decoding not as sterile disenchantment or mystifying fragmentation, but as"1 the positive moment in the dialectic of capitalist development: as the potential for freedom and permanent revolution, opposed by the forces of recoding and capitalist authoritarianism. At the same time, however, that decoding transforms rationalization and reification into semiotic terms, it translates the semiotics of Laca­ nian psychoanalysis into historical terms. Of central importance here is the pair of concepts that parallel decoding and recoding in the deterritorialization and reterritorialization. These terms

A rlti-Oedipus: .

denve from Lacanian usage, where 'territorialization' designates the impact of parental care-giving on the infant's body, which initially lacks any organization whatsoever. This initial state is what Freud called 'polymorphous perversity' (Lacan punningly refers [0 it as the 'hommelette.'), where virtually all parts of the body are equally suscep­ tive to erotic charge. In Lacan's account, parental care and nourish-

'1 I

242

Eugene W. Holland

ment (feeding, cleaning) gradually focus erotic charge on specific

zones of the body where connections are made with others and the

external environment (e.g., the mouth, the genitals and anus); in this

way, territorialization organizes the body into erogenous (and oon­

erogenous) zones. For Deleuze and Guanari, conversely, deterritor­ ialization in the psychological register designates the process of freeing

libido from pre-programmed objects of invesnnent such as the mother's breast or the family triangle ofthe Oedipus complex, so that investments can be made elsewhere. In Deleuze and Guanari's usage, however, these originally psychological terms

also operate in the social

register, where they designate a crucial dynamic of the capitalist market: the disconnection and reconnection of working bodies and

environments - for example, the disconnection of peasants from graz­ ing land by the Enclosure Acts in England, and their reterritorializa­

tion onto textile looms as wage-labor in the nascent garment in ustty.

.... Ther"primary difference between the;; parallel conceptuaC pairs is

that deterritorialization and reterritorialization operate on physical bodies and involve material investments of energy (as in production

and consumption), while decoding and recoding operate on symbolic representations and involve investments of mental energy (as in cogni­ •

tion and fantasy). This dual transformation of concepts serves to hinge

together labor-power and libido (called social and desiring production

respectively, in the Anti-Oedipus), and.- pro" duces -a ... revolutionary _ hit­ sem zoa � torical-materialistiot i c- psychiatry: schi nalysi � I should note

that this distinction between material and symbolic investments vir­ tually disappears in Deleuze and Guattari's later works.7 But the

benefits of retaining the term decoding - for cultural and literary

studies at least - are threefold: it designates semiotic processes that are legible as such in texts and cultural artifacts; it construes those semi­ otic processes in psychoanalytic or psychodynamic terms (following

Lacan); and it connects both texts and psychodynamics with history and political economy. The concept of decoding, then, enables us to

explain the semiotics and psychodynamics of texts historically in rela­ tion to the spread of the market and the rhythms ofcapitalist develop­ ment.

The translation of Lacanian psychoanalysis into historical materia­ list terms depends on an ambiguity inherited from Levi-Strauss as to

the status of the Symbolic Order - an ambiguity that becomes a

paradox crucial to Lacanian therapy: is the 'Symbolic Order' a purely abstract, logical Structure, or is it historical and concrete? For Deleuze and Guattari, it is clear: the symbolic Order is historical; it is the actual

ensemble of codes governing conduct, meaning, and belief in a given

Schizoanalysis and Baudelaire

243

social formation. But for Lacanian therapy, the Symbolic Order entails the following paradox. On one hand, the Symbolic Order is the basis of human identity-formation: in saying 'I' and accepting a proper name derived from the Name-of-the-Father, the organism becomes a human subject spoken by the language-system, forever alienated from his or her 'true' pre-linguistic being and dependent for any sense of self on the Symbolic Other. On the other hand, the Symbolic Order is an illusion, and the Symbolic Other is not a person but a place: the place occupied by the 'sujet-suppose-savoir' (the subject who is sup­ posed to know, imputed to possess authoritative knowledge) - and this is an empty place. occupied by the Lacanian therapist only in order to refuse the imputation and indeed deny the very possibility of such knowledge and authority. To put this paradox in other terms, the i two different registers: from the perspective Symbolic Order is lived n of the Imaginary register, the Symbolic Order is centered on and governed by a Symbolic Other who possesses the phallus as sign of authority and from whom the individual derives his or her sense of fixed identity and meaning; from the perspective of the Symbolic register, the Symbolic Order is a realm of fluid rather than fixed identities, the phallus is a sign of infinite semiosis rather than of stable meaning, and the Other is a fictional persona in an empty place. Following Lacan, Deleuze and Guanari designate the Symbolic regis­ ter's radically fluid form of semiosis free from identity-fixations as 'schizophrenia' - but they will ultimately locate and define it histori­ cally rather than clinically. For although they acknowledge the radical implications this paradox ofthe Symbolic perspective on the Symbolic Order entails/or therapy, Deleuze and Guanari nonetheless insist that it has specific historical conditions ofpossibility. And to insist that the Symbolic Order is histori­ cal is to expose it irrevocably to difference, contingency, and change:

by examining different social formations (in Part III of the Anti-Oedi­

pus), they are able to show that the fiction of a centered Symbolic Order belongs to another, older social formation based on stable

Codes, and that capitalism by contrast thrives on and indeed fosters through decoding the meaningless and identity-free 'schizophrenic' semiosis characteristic of the Symbolic register; hence the subtitle of the Ami-Oedipus: 'Capitalism and Schizophrenia'. The intervention of decoding in Lacanian psychoanalysis thus transforms a paradox lying the heart of a radical form of therapy into the recognition of hIstorical difference, and produces the strong claim that Lacanian"'"

a�

psychoanalysis is made possible dialectically by market decoding under capitalism.

244

Eugene W. Holland

The crux of that historical difference is this: social relations in a

coded Symbolic Order are qualitative and significant. Women in tribal

societies, for example, are valued as the source of life itself and the

very cornerstone of meta-familia1 social relations in a kinship system fully charged with symbolic meanings. The basic social relations in the decoded Symbolic order of capitalism. by contrast. are quantitative and strictly meaningless: workers (of whatever gender) are equated ••

abstract, calculable amounts of labour-power within the cash nexus of

the market. [0 this regard (though without using the lenn decoding, of course), Marx had already discerned an illuminating parallel between Martin Luther and Adam Smith: for Luther, the essence of religion was not found in objects of religious devotion, but in subjective religiosity in generalj and for Smith. the essence of wealth was not found in objects of economic value. but in abstract productive activity in general. And Smith's insight, Marx argues, was made possible dialectically by the practice under capitalism of measuring value i.D.

,-- terms of abstract labour-power. To this parallel. Deleuze and Guattari add a third term: Sigmund Freud, whom they call 'the Luther and the

Adam Smith ofpsychiatry'.8 For Freud. the essence of libidinal value is found not in the objects of desire. but in desire itself as an abstract subjective essence. as objectively underdetermined. decoded libido. Freud's insight, tOO, Deleuze and Guanari argue, was made possible

dialectically by the capitalist subsumption of all social relations under the market and exchange-value - except the relations of reproduction,

which restrict desire to the abstract poles of the nuclear family. So between the extremes of Daddy as Oedipal agent of castration and object of identification and Mommy as forbidden object of desire, market decoding makes 'all that is solid melt into air'. as Marx put it:' the market 'mobilizes' desire, in other words, by freeing it from capture by any stable, all-embracing code - only to recapture it, it must be said, via the recoding of advertising, for example, which reterritorializes it onto the objects of the latest administered consumer fad. Within the framework of psychoanalysis, meanwhile, Lacan takes the decoding of desire one imponant step further than Freud: it is not the actual penons of Mommy and Daddy that shape desire in the family, but rather the Junctions of metonymic search for mother-sub­ stitutes as objects of desire and metaphoric identifications made in the

\ father's name. And when such metaphoric identifications break down

or are refused (,foreclosed'), according to Lacan, the result is a pre­

dominantly metonymic form of desire no longer structured by the nuclear family or any other stable code, but mobilized by the infinite semiosis of language as a purely abstract signifying system devoid of

Schizoanalysis and Baudelaire

245

meaning: schizophrenia') From the perspective of schizoanalysis, how­ ever, such a radicaUy unstructured form of desire constitutes not a.... clinical case or exception to the norm, but the very historical rule or tendency of capitalism; scl)�pl!!snl! becomes the absolute horizon

(or 'limit') of social (dis)order and psychic functioning, produced by

the decoding processes of the rparket.IO My claim is that Baudelaire can be added as a fourth term in the series of parallels linking Freud with Luther and Adam Smith: because for Baudelairean modernism, aesthetic value is found not in the objects of poetic appropriation, but in the aclivity of poetic appropriation itself whence the oxymoron in the title of his major collection (The Flowers

_

0/ Evil )

and his claim to be able to extract modernist poetry from

absolutely anything - from Evil, from sheer boredom (spleen), or even (as he says) from mud. II In the modernity that Baudelaire was among the first to diagnose, value - religious, economic, libidinal, poetic i here in objects, but is subjectively bestowed. Baudelaire is does not n thus in an important sense the Martin Luther/Adam Smith/Sigmund Freud of poetry, an early champion of decoding within poetry and aesthetics, and the representative of a world-historical transformation in this field just as much as Luther, Smith, and Freud were in thein. (Ibere is another sense in which Baudelaire represents the Luther­ Smith-Freud of poetry, however, to which I will return below.) It is this figure of Baudelaire as representing a crucial turning-point in the history of Western culture at the emergence of modernism that the notion of 'decoding' enables us to recover from the so-called 'rhetorical' school of deconstructive criticism. Members of this school

- I am thinking in particular of Barbara Johnson, and her ground­ breaking readings of matched pairs of Baudelaire poemslZ - were among the first to see importam epistemological (or ideological)

implications in the Jakobsonian distinction between metaphor and metonymy, when one or the other aspect of discourse predominates in a given literary text. In comparing verse and prose versions of the

same poem, Johnson argued that metaphoric discourse - predominat­ ing in the verse poems - represents delusory adherence to the meta­ physics of identity, while metonymic discourse - predominating in the prose poems - entails heroic acknowledgment of uncertainty, contin­ gency, and flux. But this seminal insight is then immediately recon­ tained as an undecidable binary opposition - metaphor and metonymy are legible in both verse and prose, she insists - lest it open onto the histOrical conclusion that Baudelaire's poetics evolved from pre­ dominantly metaphoric to predominantly metonymic, and that this

)

246

!

Eugene W. Holland

evolution aligns with his rejection of romanticism and the tum to modernism. This strategy of containment is based on a very selective reading (if not a misreading) of Jakobson, whose analysis of the interplay of metaphoric and metonymic axes in discourse virtually requires atten­ tion to context, of the kind that Johnson et al. seem to want to preclude. According to Jakobson, the metaphoric axis of discourse is based on the identity or equivalence among terms as defined by the storehouse of the language-system functioning 'in absentia' (as Saus­ sure put it) 'outside' the linear time ofurterance. The metonymic axis, by contrast, sustains the process of combining different terms contigu­ ously to form a chain of signification 'within' time - that is, in the duration of utterance. The metaphoric axis is, in other words, a function of the code of the language-system, and appears to exist as a given, outside of time, in contrast to the metonymic axis which is precisely the sequentiality of actual discourse as it is produced in context and through time. Jakobson thus concludes that every sign used in discourse has 'two sets of interpretants . . . the code and the context'.13 And we may surmise that when one set of interpretants diminishes in strength or importance, the other set will come to the fore. This is precisely what happens in Baudelaire: metaphoric poetics predominates in the early poetry, but gives way to metonymic poetics in the later poetry. The single Baudelaire poem everyone is likely to be most familiar with - 'Correspondances' - is, ironically enough, the very poem against which nearly everything Baudelaire later wrote is directed; it sums up a metaphoric poetics of romanticism expressing the harmonies enveloping man in nature outside of time - and it is this romantic poetics that is virulently rejected by Baudelairean modern­ ism, where metonymic reference to the present moment and context i stead. The decoding of metaphor and romanticism starts prevail, n quite early in The Flowers ofEvil (in the sonnet on 'Beauty,' poem #17 out of 126), intensifies in the Spleen poems, and reaches its zenith in the 'Tableaux Parisiens' section, with its insistent reference to scenes of Second Empire Paris, despite the agonizing inability to confer meaning on those scenes. The decoding of metaphor, meaning, and identity thus fosters not sheer meaninglessness, 'undecidability', or the abyss, but rather metonymic reference to context - even if such reference must at the limit forgo any claim to stable meaning.14 The poetics of metaphor and metonymy in Baudelaire therefore do not represent the poles of an undecidable binary opposition, but the terms of an historical evolution from romanticism to modernism.

Schizoanalysis and Baudelaire

247

Moreover, Baudelaire's poetry does not merely reflect the processes of decoding characteristic of the modem capitalist economy, it actively participates in them. It is true, of course, that Baudelaire's life-span (182 1-67) corresponds to the take-off period of modem French capi­ talism, with the banking elite coming to power in 1830, followed by the influx of Californian and then Australian gold in the late 1840s, and the founding of the first investment banks and the unification of markets by the rail system under Napoleon IH in the 1850s and 1860s. But even more important was Baudelaire's personal investment in romantic-socialist hopes for the Revolution of 1848, which was to crown the revolutionary tradition by finally bringing true workers' democracy to France. For when the radical-democratic ideals of 1848 are crushed by the coup d'etat of Napoleon HI in 1851, Baudelaire (among others) responds by actively repudiating his adherence to those ideals and adopting instead a stance of cynical disdain for modem culture and society. Baudelaire's modernism emerges here as a defensive repudiation of the romantic enthusiasm he once shared for the figures of nature, woman, and the people. So in this literary-criti­ cal context, the introduction of the notion of decoding transfonns the deconstructive binary opposition metaphor/metonymy into a histori­ cal matrix for understanding the emergence of modernism in Baude­ laire as the metonymic decoding of romantic metaphoricity in revenge for the shattered hopes and ideals of 1848. Central to Baudelaire's evolution from romanticism to modernism is his notorious masochism, about which so much has been written (mostly from various psychoanalytic perspectives). U Schizoanalysis will insist upon transforming masochism from a psychological into a socio-historical category, situating it in the period following the failures of the 1848 revolutions, when the literary works and essays of the 'original' masochist, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, were so popu­ lar throughout Europe. Here I draw on Deleuze's study of Masoch, although it predates schizoanalysis and uses the tenn 'desexualization' (developed in his critique of Freud in Difference and Repetition) in place of decoding. 1 6 To derive the specificity of real masochism from Ma­ soch's own literary oeuvre, Deleuze draws on the Freud of Beyond the Pleasure Principle, who explores the relationship between pleasure and repetition: what lies 'beyond' the pleasure principle is not so much exceptions to it, but rather its grounding in repetition and the death instinct. Under the influence of the death instinct, even the pleasure principle becomes, as Freud put it, 'innately conservative': repetition grounds the stimulus-binding energy that links present perception

Eugene W. Holland

248

with memory traces of past gratification, thus enabling the pleasure principle to operate and govern behavior. Usually, repetition and pleasure work hand-in-glove: we repeat what has previously been found pleasurable, which is to say that present perception is eroticized or 'sexualized' and governed 'conservatively' by memories of gratifica­ tions past. But the relation of pleasure and repetition can vary: less usually, as in the case of trauma dreams for instance, repetition operates inde­ pendently of the pleasure principle, 'desexualizing' perception and

I

repeating something not pleasurable, but extremely displeasurable, something traumatic. Here repetition is severed from drive-grati6ca­ tion, and serves instead as an ego-defence to reduce anxiety, by developing

ex post facto

the stimulus-binding recognition-function

whose absence occasioned the trauma in the first place. Still less usually, as in the case of perversion, the desexualization of percep­ tion is

accompanied by the resexua/ization of repetition itself.

instead of

repeating what was initially found pleasurable, pleasure is derived from whatever is repeated. Now we might well expect desperate measures for reducing anxiety to proliferate in a decoded Symbolic Order, which no longer protects the psyche from traumatic stimuli by binding them according to established codes of meaning. But the question remains: how can the repetition of pain, of all things - and especially one's own pain - induce pleasure? Here, Oeleuze invokes the conclusion of Reik's clinical study of masochism: accepting punish­ ment for the desired act before it occurs effectively resolves guilt and anxiety about the act, thereby sanctioning its consummation.17 But he then goes on to ask, why would preliminary punishment serve the end of obtaining pleasure? Under what conditions does this ma­ sochistic narrative-kernel

(punishment before � pleasure after)

become effective? This is where analysis of Masoch's fiction proves illuminating. Masoch's hero typically arranges a mock contract according to which he willingly suffers regular and systematic domination and punishment at the hands of a beautiful woman. The functions of this fantasy-contract are several: first of all, it reduces anxiety about pun­ ishment by meticulously specifying when, where, and how such pun­ ishment is to be carried out; secondly, it explicitly excludes the Father, the usual authority-figure, and transfers his Symbolic authority to the woman; then, by actively soliciting punishment, the contract invali­ dates the Symbolic authority responsible for the suffering incurred: since the punishment is undeserved, blame falls on the figure meting it out, instead. With the Father-figure excluded and his authority

Schi::oanaiysis and Baudelaire

249

denied, the masochist hero ends up enjoying relations with the woman which the Father nonnally prohibits. Remarkably, in the context of mid-nineteenth century France, this fantasy-scenario corresponds exactly to the anti-authoritarian ideals of 1848, with the decoding of

the Father-figure - King Louis-Philippe - accompanied by recoding on the Mother-figure of Marianne and the Second Republic. Yet, in a way Deleuze does not fully appreciate, the masochistic

scenario juSt described is in Masoch's fiction embedded within a nar­ rative that produces results very different from the utopian ideal

projected by the contract. In Masoch's stories, the Father-figure sup­ posedly excluded from the fantasy-contract suddenly re-appears, and

is in fact joined by the woman in administering new forms of torture that exceed and thus break the tenns of the contract. So at the end of Masoch's stories, the masochistic fantasy-scenario crumbles, leaving the hero with a galling sense of having been duped and a bitter desire for revenge. And the ex-masochist hero in Masoch's stories indeed takes his rev enge, with a ferocity bordering on sadism. The conclusion of Masochian

narratiw thus represents not the anti-authoritarian uto­

pia of hannonious relations with the ideal Mother-figure, as pictured in the masochistic

scenario, but rather a vitriolic and often violent cynic

who now despises anyone (even or most of all himself) foolish enough to have taken his ideals and desires for reality. Such is the story that Masoch told - and that his innumerable readers throughout late-nine­ teenth century Europe read - over and over and over again: as in a trauma-dream, this compulsion to repeat represents defensive prep­ aration for a cataclysmic event . . . that has

already occurred.

And for

Baudelaire, as for so many of his French contemporaries, the real event that represents as it were the return of the Father ruining the Mother and SQn's anti-authoritarian utopia, is the incredible rise to power and

coup d'etat of

Napoleon III, the founding of the authorita­

rian Second Empire on the ruins of the democratic Second Republic. What's more, anyone familiar with biographies of Baudelaire will recognize this story of the retum-of-the-Father destroying the Mother and son's idyllic utopia as a repetitiorl, from Baudelaire's own child­ hood, of his mother's remarriage to an ambitious young military officer several years after the death of Baudelaire's real father: this uncanny 'coincidence' is for schizoanalysis what made Baudelaire

the

lyric poet of his age, to paraphrase Walter Benjamin. In schizoanalytic terms, then, 'masochism' is not the name of a psychological category,

but a historical strategy for decoding and invaHdating social authority while transforming romantic idealism into the disillusioned cynicism of modernism.

Eugene W. Holland

250

This is not to say that the evolution from romanticism to modernism in Baudelaire can be understood as some kind of linear progression from metaphor to metonymy: metaphor doesn't simply disappear, but reappears in Baudelairean modernism transformed by metonymiza­ tion into a corrosive irony. I! OUf account orlhe decoding of modem­ ism in Baudelaire, meanwhile, remains still too abstract as long as metonymy as a free form of desire induced by the market and meto­ nymization as a {onnal development of Baudelairean poetics art linked by mere parallelism. Lacan's and johnson's quite different transforma­ tions of Jakobson's concept of metonymy must be completed and brought to bear on the evolution of Baudelairean poetics as a whole (rather than on selected poems) . Here Walter Benjamin's own histo­ ricization of psychoanalysis via a reading of Baudelaire constitutes an invaluable poim of depanure. What Benjamin saw was that Baude­ laire's best poetry was formulated as a defence against the traumatic shocks typical of urban life in the decoded Symbolic Order of nascent capitalism. Baudelaire's shock-defence takes two forms, which corre­ spond to the title of the well-known tint section of The Flowers ofEvil, 'Spleen and Ideal'. 'Ideal' designates a metaphoric defence that rec­ odes potentially traumatic experience in the nostalgic terms of a lost yet memorable harmony with nature outside of time; 'spleen' desig­ nates a metonymic defence that defuses potential trauma simply by locating an experience as precisely as possible in time - though at the cOSt, Benjamin suggests, of robbing it of any lyric coment. 19 As invaluable as it is, Benjamin's reading overlooks the importance of the prose poem collection and even of the 'Tableaux Parisiens' section added after 'Spleen and Ideal' to the second edition of

Flowers of Evil

-

The

where a very different form of poetics and a different

response to market decoding prevail. What Benjamin didn't see is that cycles of protective recoding alternate with cycles of exhilarated decod­ ing in the vene collection, as the poet alternately seeks out and then withdraws from contact with the Real. Nor was he able to appreciate the way in which the predominance of metonymic poetics transforms the

cycles of decoding

taneous

and recoding in the verse collection imo

simul­

recoding and decoding in the individual poems of the prose

collection, as the high-anxiety trauma and shock-defences of the ear­ lier work give way in the later work to a very different defence based on psychic splitting. Historically speaking, once ambient decoding reaches a certain thre­ shold of intensity, whatever stability and coherence the ego may have possessed disintegrate, and the unstable, split subjectivity of so-called borderline conditions replaces Oedipal neurosis as the predominant

SchizoanaJysis and BauckJaire

251

form of psychological disturbance - as nearly all the post-Freudian psychoanalytic literature from Fenichel to Kristeva and Kemberg attests.20 But in the case of Baudelaire, who after all experienced decoding at a considerably earlier stage of capitalist development, there had to have been a precipitating cause for severe splitting: it was, as I have suggested, his experience of Napoleon's coup d'etal, which shook Baudelaire's psychic structure to its foundations and propelled him from a relatively stable romanticism, through masochism, and into the supremely flexible, ifnot indeed self-contradictory, borderline condition characteristic of his modernism.2l Borderline conditions by themselves, however (and regardless of the degree to which Baudelaire 'actually' lived them or 'merely' staged them in his poetry22), are not sufficient to account for Baudelairean modernism; there had to have been some figure to serve as ego-ideal around which a new, pOSt­ romantic personality could form, in order to sustain and sanction the enduring ambitions of Baudelaire the writer; this figure, it turned out, was Edgar Allan Poe. Identification with Poe as a fellow writer shunned by contemporary society fosters a narcissistic reaction to the underlying borderline condition, so that the extreme instability and psychic splitting characteristic of the latter become a new form of defence. This is the stance that emerges in the 'Tableaux. Parisiens' section of the second edition of The Flowers of Evil, and then appears in completed form in the figure of the prose poem narrator, for whom it serves to establish a more or less comfortable distance from scenes of former selves in degraded commercial context - former selves (romantic idealists, most notably) who have been split off from the observing narrator yet retain a certain fascination as objects of his rapt attention and of poetic depiction. Such a position of serene indif­ ference or disdain for the surrounding culture characterizes Baude­ lairean modernism at its apogee. And yet . . . and yet . . . And yet there are at least two senses in which Baudelaire's prose

poem collection goes far beyond the split stance of the modernism adumbrated in the 'Tableaux Parisiens' - far enough, perhaps, to

attain a certain postmodernism. For one thing, although Baudelaire's identification with Poe as martyr to a philistine society was supposed to elevate him above the crass world of commerce and mass-demo­ Cratic society, the modernist poetics he developed turned out to be strictly complicitous with the capitalist market. By locating aesthetic value solely in the activity of poetic appropriation and distancing himself from the objects of that appropriation, Baudelaire comes to occupy the position of what Jacques Attali calls the 'designer' or 'programmer', whose basic function within capitalism is to endow

252

Eugme W. Hoiland

more or less worthless objects (such as 'designer-jeans') with semiotic surplus-value in order to enable the realization of economic surplus­ value by promoting their purchase by consumers; the most familiar form of programming, in other words, is advertising. l} This is the second sense in which Baudelaire can be considered the Martin Luther-Adam Smith-Sigmund Freud of poetry, for each of these figures, too, reimposed a moment of recoding on the radical indeter­ minacy of decoding, according to Deleuze and Guattari. Luther fe­ codes pure religiosity OntO Scripture; Adam Smith recedes abstract labour-power onto capital; Freud recedes polymorphous libido onto the Oedipus complex. Baudelaire. similarly, recedes an increasingly metonymic poetics onto the prose poem narrator-as-programmer. In­ asmuch as Baudelaire's maNre poetics functions in this way to va­ lorize from the recoded perspective of the borderline-narcissist narrator various forms of decoded experience that are (or have been rendered) virtually meaningless in themselves, it acts in complicity with and even as a prototype for the kinds of debased commercial activity modernism was to have rejected and risen above. And this is a complicity that Baudelaire himself acknowledges in one of the prose poems (entitled 'The Cake'), where inflaled rhetoric endows a nearly worthless scrap of bread with so much semiotic surplus-value that it becomes the prized object of a fratricidal war.H Such recognition of the ultimate inseparability of high and low culture, of modernist aesthetics and modem marketing, has become a hallmark of what we today call the postmodem condition - in large part because modernist 'defamiliarization' has indeed become the all tOO familiar marketing strategy Baudelaire 'foresaw' it could, now used for selling everything from standard-brand beer to

hauu couture perfume.

And yet it must be said at the same time that Baudelaire never whole-heartedly adopts the aloof and superior position of the modern­ ist programmer: an abiding sympathy for his idealistic former selves remains a central feature of the prose poem collection, visible in the narrator's recurring shock of recognition that the poor victims of com­ merce and philistinism he has been watching from a distance are none other than the poet himself. To be sure, there is a tendency in Baude­ laire to repudiate the romantic narrative of French history as progress toward social democracy in the name of modernism, a tendency to transform erstwhile idealism n i to pure cynicism. What could be more cynical than to capitalize on the defeat of one's ideals by adopting the position of programmer and contributing to the realization of surplus­ value, including and especially one's own? Such borderline-narcissist cynicism, incidentally, is precisely the stance of Baudelaire's current-

Schizoanalys;s and Baudelaire

253

day, American avatar, Madonna, who acts out degraded split-off selves who she knows will shock and seU, but always from an ironic distance that leaves her integrity as programmer and her command of a share of the profits intact.2S Baudelaire, it seems to me, never quite oCcupies such a position. And this is not just because (as Bataille reminds US)16 Baudelaire represents in material tenos a colossal failure as the 'lyric poet of high capitalism' - unlike Madonna. It is because, however much Baudelaire repudiates narrative and history, he never manages to hide completely his profound sympathy and lasting identi6cation with the victims of the capitaliSt market: he never fully occupies the modernism he himself contributed so much to inventing. Is such identification with the victims on Baudelaire's part a mere vestige of romanticism? Biographically speaking, perhaps so; but I would argue that it becomes available or interesting to us under specifically postmodern conditions when we become willing or able to see more in Baudelaire than the invention of modernism for which he has been canonized. Surely his recognition of the potential of modern­ ist poetry for market programming has little enough to do with roman­ ticism, and everything to do with postmodemism today. In any case, the anti-universalizing and anti-individualist principles of schizoana­ lysis suggest a version of literary reception theory (akin to Benjamin's 'redemptive' literary history) according to which a process of socio­ historical rather than narrowly psychological transference will make certain features of a literary work become visible when changed cir­ cumstances bring one historical moment into unexpected alignment with another. In this light, as our postmodemism rejoins Baudelaire's pre- andlor post-modernism by means of such historical transference, modernism appears in between as an attempt to capitalize on market reification itself, with its segregation of fonoal innovation in the re­ stricted sphere of high culture from homogenizing repetition in the general Cultural sphere, as a vehicle or opportunity for aesthetic devel­ opment.27 And it would appear by now that this attempt has, if not failed in some simple and total way. then certainly run its course, accomplished all that it can - and is therefore being surpassed. Antonio Negri has to my mind proposed the most acute way to situate this historical reconstruction of the relation between the pre­ modern, modem, and postmodern in a figure such as Baudelaire: in tenns of the difference between merely fonnal subsumption and real subsumption of labour by capital.18 If, as Marx said, society sets itself O�ly the tasks it is able to accomplish, then we may understand the kinds of fonnal freedom and equality associated with romanticism, the Sovereign individual, and representative democracy. along with the

Eugene W. Holland

254

kinds of fonnal innovation associated with modernism, as historically necessary and indeed fruitful stages in the development of modem culture, but stages which have by now been superseded, as the full socialization of production under conditions of real subsumption ren­ ders the individual romantic subject obsolete. and calls for new devel­ opments in collective freedom, substantive equality, and general

cultural innovation aUke. In this light, 'The Voyage' (the concluding

poem ofthe second edition of The Flowers 0/Evil) might be understood to prefigure, in its insistence on the value of unending travel for its

own sake, the notion of permanent revolution as it appears on the historical horizon once capitalism has exhausted all of its positive potential: 'true travellers,' Baudelaire insists, 'are those who leave for the sake of leaving itself . . . and who, without knowing why, are always saying: Let'S go!' Interestingly enough, having thus defmed true travellers in the third person

(chose who

travel for travel's sake),

the poem thereafter shifts to the first·person plural - but in such a way that it becomes increasingly difficult to determine exactly whom the 'we' refers to: true travellers in particular, or humanity in general. We might, then, go so far as to suggest that such strategic use of an anti·lyrical, plural personal pronoun prefigures the kind of collective nomadism on a new earth that Deleuze and Guanari envisage in the

Anri·Oedipus as the next stage of social development.l9 NOTES Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari,

Anti·Oedipus, New York: Viking,

1977; and Whcle is Philosophy?, New York: 2

Columbia,

1994.

On the differences between philosophical concepts and scientific 'func· tives'

(Jonctifs), see chapter 5 of What is Philosophy? While not Deleuze

and Guanari's own, I have found the term 'transformers' useful for capturing the operational value of Deleuzo-Guattarian concepts; so hu la, in 'Les transformateurs·Deleuze ou Ie cinema comme Reda Bensma automate spirituel', forthcoming.

3

This, in Deleuze and Guanari's tenns, would be the 'utopian' dimension

of the philosophical concepts deployed in the Anti·Oedipus, according to

What is Philosophy?, p. 99. 4

On the relations of the Ami-Oedipus to May 68, see my 'Schizoanalysis: the Postmodem Contextualization of Psychoanalysis', in Marxism and the

Interpretation o/Culturt, ed. Nelson and Grossberg, Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1988, pp. 405-16, esp. 4 1 5 .

5

What s i Philosophy?, 3, 'Conceptual Personae'. On 'milieu', see Gilles Deleuze

On the concept offriend and concepts as friends, see pp. 2-5 and ch.

255

Schizoanalysis and Baudelaire

and Claire Pamet, Dialogues, New York: Columbia, 1987, p. 55 and i Philosophy?, pp. 98-100. passim; and What s

6

7

The Baudelaire material in what follows is drawn from my Baudelaire ami Sc:hizoanalysis: the SocopoetKs i ofModemism, Cambridge University Press, 1993. The term decoding disappears in volume 2 of Capitalism and S,hizophre· l increases nia, (A Thousand Plmeaus). while the term deterntoriaization

dramatically in imponance; on the expansion of the latter in the second volume, see my 'Oeterritorializing "Deterritorialization" from the Anti· Oedipus to A Thousand Plateaus', Sub·Szance 66, Vol. XX. No. 3, 1991, _

8

pp. 55-65. The Anci·Oedipus. p. 271.

9

Karl Man: and Friedrich Engels, 'The Communist Manifesto', in Marx and Engels: BaSK Writinp on Politia and Phiwsophy, ed. Lewis Feuer, Garden City: Doubleday, 1959, pp. 6-41; the quotation is from p. 10.

10

The Ami.(kdipus, pp. 1 7 6 -7; for a similar discussion of the relation between philosophy and the limits of capitalism, see What is Philosophy?

II

12

13

pp. 94-104. About his poetic activity, Baudelaire says, 'I have fashioned mud and turned it into gold' ('rai petri de 1a boue et j'en ai fait de I'or'). Oeuvres

CompUtes. Paris: Seuil, 1968, p. 763. Barbara Johnson, Dijigurationf du lallgage poetique: la seeomle rlwlution balldelairienne, Paris: Flammarion, 1979, pp. 31-55; and The Critical Difference, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980, pp. 23-48. Roman Jakobson, 'Two Aspects of Language and Two Types of Aphasic DislUrbance', n i Fundammrals of Language (with Morns Halle), The Hague: Mouton, 1956, pp. 67-96; the quotation is from p. 75.

14

On metonymic or 'indexical' reference 10 context in Baudelairean mod· ernism, see Ross Chambers, Milancolie et opposition: les dibuu du modem·

15

isme en France, Paris: Jose Corti. 1987. On Baudelaire's masochism, see Rene Laforgue, The Defeat ofBaudelaire, London: Hoganh, 1932; Jean·Paul Sanre, Baudelaire, Paris: Gallimard, 1947; and Leo Bersani, Baudelaire and Freud, Berkeley: Univenity of California Press, 1977.

16

Gilles Deleuze, 'Coldness and Cruelty' in Masochsm, i New York: Zone Books, 1989; for the critique of Freud's notion of repetition and the death instinct, see Difference and Repetition. London: Athlone and New

17 18

York: Columbia University Press, 1994, esp. ch. II. Theodor Reik, MaS(J(hism in Modern Man, New York: Farrar and Rine· hart, 1941. For another, quite different account of metaphor in modernism, see David Lodge, The Modes ofModern Writing: Metaphor, Metonymy, and the

Typology of Modenl Literature, London: Edward Arnold, 1977. Lodge draws exclusively on Jakobson for his undefStanding of metaphor and metonymy, and not at all on Lacan.

Eugene W. Holland

256 19 20

Walter Benjamin, Charles Baudelaire:

A Lyric Pott jn the Era of High

i London: VersolNew Left Books, 1973. Capta/ism,

Otto Fenichel, 'Ego-Disturbances and their Treatment', in Collected

Paptrs, 2 vols, New York: Norton, 1953-4, vol. 2, pp. 109-28; Otto Kemberg, &rderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism, New York: Jason Aronson, 1975; Julia Kristeva, 'Within the Microcosm of "The Talking Cure" " in Imerprering Lacan, cd. Smith and Kerrigan, Psychiatry

and rhe Humanities vol. 6, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983, pp. 21

33-48.

'Panni les droits dont on a parit: dans ces demiers temps, il y e n a un qu'on a oublit: . . . Ie droit de se contredire' ('With all the talk of rights these days, there's one that everyone has forgotten about . . . the right to contradict oneself'] . (Oeuvres CompUtes, p. 291). On the contradictory nature of modernism, see Charles Bernheimer, Figures of I/J Repute: Representing Prostirutio" i" Nineteenrh-Ce"tury Franu, Cambridge, Mass.:

22

Harvard University Press, 1989.

'I don't mean that Baudelaire was psychotic when he wrote these poems;

he does, however, seem to have represented in them a psychotic relation

to tbe world.' Leo Benani, Baudelaire and Freud, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977, p. 128. 23 24

Jacques Anali, Noise: the Political £ConomyofMusic, Minneapolis: Univer­ sity of Minnesota Press, 1985, esp. pp. 128-32.

On Baudelaire's awareness of the commercial implications of his late aesthetics, see (in addition to 'The Cake') the prose poem 'The Projects', and Baudelaire arId Schizoa"alysis, ch. 7.

25

See David Tetzlaff, 'Metatextual Girl: patriarchy power

-+

money

-+

-+

postmodernism

-+

Madonna', in The Madonna Contlection, ed. Cathy

Schwicbtenberg, Boulder: Westview Press, 1993, pp. 239-63. 26

See his essay on Baudelaire in Literature and Evil, London: Calder and

Boyars, 1973. 27

On the general and restricted spheres of culture, see Pierre Bourdieu,

Dstincti()TI: i a social cniique of the judgmmt of taste, Cambridge, Mass.: 28

Harvard University Press, 1984. Antonio Negri, Marx Beyond Marx: LeSS01lS Oil the Gnmdrisse, New York: Bergin and Garvey, 1984; and The Politics of Subversion: A MamJe5to /OT the Twenty-Fint Century, London: POlity Press [Basil Blackwdl], 1989, esp. ch. and ch.

29

3, 'From the mass worker to the socialized worker - and beyond', 1 3 'Postmodem'.

On the 'new earth', see the Anti-Oedipus, pp. 35, 1 3 1 , 3 1 8-22, 367-82;

and What is Philosophy?, p. 99; on nomadism as pcnnanent revolution,

see my 'Scbizoanalysis: the Postmodem Contextualization of Psychoana·

lysis', Marxism and the Interpretatiol! o/Clilture. esp. p. 407.

13

Gilles Deleuze : The Aesthetics of Force Ronald Bogue

'In no way ,.g.o we believe in a system aCthe fine arts,' state Deleuze and Guattari in Mille plateaux, 'but in very different problems that find their solutions in heterogeneous arts'. l One might assume from this remark that any general account of a Deleuzian approach to the arts would be ill-advised, but what Deleuze and Guanari object to in a 'system af the arts' is less a broad theory oCthe interrelation afthe ans than a closed system that ignores the specificity aCthe various arts and posits essential distinctions between the aesthetic and the non-aes­ thetic. As Deleuze has indicated, there is nothing wrong with systems

as long as they are open systems (indeed, what be and Guanan call 'a ; rhizome is precisely a case of an oHen s):, J;"i md I1 is only the rigid ste r category of Art, 'a fa�oncept, ly nominal' (MP p. 369), that

�

)0

Deleuze and Guattari disavow in their rejection of a 'system of the arts'. As Deleuze indicates in Dialogues ( 1 977), the arts in his view are by no means unrelated to one another: 'So what is it, then, to paint, to Compose or to write? It's all a question of line; there is no considerable

difference between painting, mu�ic and writing. These activities are 1 distinguished by their respective substances, codes and territorialities, but not by the abstract line they trace, which passes between them and carries them toward a common destiny. 'l Indeed, as Deleuze observes in Francis Bacm/: logique de fa sensation (1981), 'there is a community of the arts, a common problem. In an, and in painting as in music, it's

not a question of reproducing or inventing forms, but of harnessing forces'.� It is this 'common problem' of the harnessing of forces that I

;,ould like to explore, first by examining Deleuze's remarks on paint­ Lng in his study of Francis Bacon, and then by brieny considering the

)

Ronald &gue

258

relation of Deleuze's views on painting to his treatments of music and cinema. The purpose of this investigation is to open the way towards a delineation in Deleuze's works of an aesthetics of force and an open system of the ans.

Cezanne and the Problem of Modern Painting For Deleuze, as for many critics of twentieth-century art, Cezanne is one of the founding figures of modem painting. It is through Cezanne that

Deleuze approaches Francis Bacon, and it is within a specific tradition of Cezanne criticism that Deleuze develops his analysis. In

Frands Bacon Deleuze cites two important works that may help us in situating his argument within that tradition - Henri Maldiney's Regard Parok £Space ( 1973) and Jean-Fran�ois Lyotard's Dlscours, Figure (1971). Maldiney takes as the staning poim of his phenomenological inter­ pretation of Cezanne Erwin Straus's distinction between geography and landscape, as developed in Straus's influential 'vindication of sensory experience',

The Primary World of Senses ( 1 935). This opposi­

tion of geography and landscape parallels Straus's well-known opposi­ tion of perception and sensation, perception designating the experience of a rational, verbally-mediated world of uniform, atomistic space and time in which subject and object are clearly demarcated from each other, and

sensation the

experience of a prerational, alingual world of

perspectival, dynamic space and time in which subject and object arc not clearly differemiated. The space of the landscape is the space of sensation. and what Straus sees as the task of the landscape painter is to make visible the sensate space of our prerefiective, animal being­ with-the-world. Landscape painting, says Straus, 'makes visible the invisible, although it be as something far removed. Great landscapes

all have a visionary character. Such vision is ofthe invisible becoming

visible'.' In a series of papers wrinen between

1953 and 1967, Maldi­

ney develops this insight, arguing that 'an is the truth of the sensible,6 and that this truth is especially evident in the paintings of Cezanne. 'A canvas of Cezanne's puts us in communication with a pre-objective. phenomenal reality,' says Maldiney, 'in which the world emerges with

1 1), a world that is 'on this side of our world of habits . . . a pre-human world' (RPE 17). In Maldiney's analysis, Cezanne initially us' (RPE

encounters this world as an infra-pictorial chaos from which his canvaS will arise. As Cezanne remarked to Gasquet, 'under this fine rain I breathe the virginity of the world.

I feel myself colored by all the

nuances of infinity. At this moment I am one with my canvas. We are

Gilles Deleuze: The Aesthetics of Force

259

an iridescent chaos' (cited in RPE 184). The emergence of the painting from this infra-pictorial chaos then proceeds via twO basic moments: the first, a systolic moment in which confused sensations condense into definite fonns (the fonns of what Cezanne called 'stub­ born geometry'); the second, a diastolic moment 'of the expansive eruption of color,' during which, in Cezanne's words, 'there is no longer anything except colors and in them only clarity . . . that rising of the earth toward the sun, that exhalation of the depths toward love'

(RPE 185). This rhythm of systolic design and diastolic color is one with the fundamental rhythm of sense experience, and it is this rhythm that gives the elements of a Cezanne painting their life and energy. The painting's fonn is the systolic and diastolic rhythm of its self­ formation; hence the rhythm of its fonn 'is the articulation of its implicated [i.e., enfolded] time' (RPE 160). The painting's ground is that infra-pictorial chaos, 'the ground as ground-less (Un-grond), at that moment noted by Cezanne when the red eanh emerged from an

abyss' (RPE 189).

Lyotard also regards Cezanne as a pivotal figure in the development

of modern painting, but he finds the phenomenological approach to the visual arts incomplete. Lyotard's basic purpose in

fA·scours, Figure

is to counter what he sees as structuralism's tendency to regard the visible as a text. He argues that there is an irreducible difference between the spacing of space that allows the visible to appear and the spacing of elements in a structural combinatory that allows the forma­ tion of the discrete elements of a system. The space of the visible haunts and disturbs discourse, but ultimately that space cannot be articulated within language. The visible can become 'readable', how­ ever, in the sense that it can become so invested with cultural codes, cliched forms and conventional interpretations that it is no longer truly seen. The function of the artist is to render visible what has ceased to be seen, to paint the forces of the Strausian world of sensation. But the anist must also deconstruct representation and invent 'a space of the invisible, of the possible'/ and it is especially in the disclosure of such a space that Cezanne inaugurates a revolution in painting. According to Lyotard, conventional visual representation represses the anomalies of sensation, the deformations and violations of 'good form' that disturb the eye. In undoing the 'good form' of representation, however, the anist also engages invisible forces that never become directly visible - those of the unconscious, which are fundamentally forces of deformation. The 'space of the invisible, of the POssible', then, is an invented space traversed by unconscious forces that render visual what Lyotard calls the 'figural', a domain of

Ronald Bogue

260

Dionysian anti-form that can play through the images of figurative and abstract art alike. The ground of painting according to Lyotard ia finally not Maldiney's infra-pic[Qrial chaos. but the 'figure-matrix' of fantasy, the scene of the invisible pulsations of the Id. Art thus doe.

indeed engage the phenomenal rhythms of sensation according to Lyotard, but it also discloses the rhythms of desire and the trans..

gressive force of the unconscious. Deleuze and Guanari praise Lyotard in L 'Amj-Oedjpe and agree that 'the pure figural element, the "figure-matrix:' is aptly named desire', for it 'carries us to the gates of schizophrenia as a process'.' Yet they find Lyotard's psychoanalytic orientation stultifying, and they see hi. emphasis on transgression and deformation as tOO reactive a formula. tion of the operation of the unconscious. When Deleuze turns to painting in Francu

Baeo", he makes

frequent use of the concept of the

'the Figure', which he relates directly to Lyotard's notion of 'the figural', but without any of the Freudian apparatus that Lyotard brings to his argument. As Deleuze develops the concept, the Figure, rather than pointing toward an invisible psychological domain, is immanent within the phenomenal space of the real. In this sense one may say that Deleuze's ultimate strategy in his study of Bacon is to combine the

analyses of Maldiney and Lyotard, to commingle the space of

Lyotard's figure-matrix and the Strausian space of sensation within a single plane of consistency.

The Logic of Sensation Deleuze agrees with Maldiney that Cezanne is a painter of sensation, and it is in the Figure that 'the sensible form is related to sensation' (FB 27). Deleuze initially describes sensation as having a subjective and an objective side, but he soon adds that really 'it has no sides at allj it is both things, indissolubly; it is being-in-the-world as the phenomenologists say: at the same time I

become

in sensation and

something am'ves through sensation, one through the other, one in the other. And finally it is the same body that gives and receives sensation. that is at the same time object and subject' (FB 27). It is this fusional world-body of sensation that Cezanne paints, and it is by entering intO the painting's world-body that the viewer comes to experience the canvas as sensation. But what Cezanne ultimately aims to do, Deleuze argues, is to go beyond sensation and paint the invisible forces that

impinge on it, to tum sensation 'back on itself, (0 extend or contract it, to harness in that which sensation gives us the forces that are not

Gliles Deleuze:

The Aesthetics of Force

261

given, to make sensate the forces that are non-sensate' (FB 39). In Deleuze's estimation, the genius of Cezanne is 'to have subordinated all the means of painting to this task: to render visible the force that folds the mountains, the germinative force of the apple. the thermic force of a landscape. etc.' (FB 39). Deleuze sees in Francis Bacon a successor to Cezanne in that Bacon tOO is a painter of sensations and forces. But Bacon's canvases also make patent an experience of the body that is only latent in Cezanne, an experience that leads one beyond the phenomenological 'lived body' to the chaotic 'body without organs'. The body in Bacon's works is always n i a process of becoming other - becoming-animal, becoming-molecular, becoming-imperceptible - and the systolic and diastolic rhythms that play through his compositions are those of 'a non-organic life', a 'Power [Puissance) more profound' than the lived body 'and almost unlivable' (FB 33). If Bacon, then, is a painter of sensations, it is only

n i

this broader sense of a painter of the unor­

ganized and non-organic sensations of the body without organs. According to Deleuze, the elementary rhythms of a Bacon painting are those that pass between the uniform tones of the background field and the human figure surrounded by that field. A systolic force moves from the field to the figure, enclosing and constricting the figure, and a diastolic force passes from the figure to the field as the body under­ goes an intensive deformation. The encircling force of the field isolates the figure, discoll?ects it from all incipient narratives and thereby empties it of its figurative, representational content. The expanding force that issues from the figure in turn induces a contorted athleti­ cism in which the body is seized by a convulsive effort to escape itself: 'the entire series of spasms in Bacon is of this type - love, vomiting, excrement - always the body that attempts to escape itself through one of its organs, to rejoin the background field . . . And the cry, the cry in Bacon. is the operation through which the body as a whole escapes through the mouth' (FB 17). The spasmodic defonnations that beset the body are particularly evident in Bacon's portraits, for the face is the most heavily coded zone of the body and hence the point at which the effects of diastolic forces are most pronounced. As a portraitist, Bacon's project is to paint the head beneath the face, the body of sensation as opposed to the figurative body of conventional representation. In many of Bacon's ponraits, animal traits seem to emerge from the human forms - a pig's snOUt from the nose, a dog's muzzle from the jaw. a bird's wing from an eyebrow - and Deleuze sees in these traits a general 'becoming-ani­ mal' of the body. He is quick to add that he is not speaking of a

Ronald Bogue

262

mimetic relationship between man and animal, but of '8

zone of i"discemabj/iey. ojundujdtJbiJity, between man and animal' (FB 20), of an interactive process of disorganization whereby the recognizable features of the human face assume various mutant shapes and con�

[OUTS. The tension between the representational face and the mutative

head manifests itself 8$ a struggle between structural bone and mal­ leable flesh, the flesh moving across the skeletal framework like an

acrobat on a complex gymnastic apparatus. This interaction of hone and flesh finds its most elemental treatment in Bacon's butcher-shop images of dismembered bodies and unspecified cuts of meat, the torso-become-rib-roast or the cheek-become-mutton-chop rendering 'that state of the body in which flesh and bones confront each other

locally, n i stead of taking fonn structurally' (FB 20). But what is most

important about meat is that it 'is the zone common to man and beast,

their zone of indiscernability' (FB 20-1). Ultimately, the head and meat participate in a common becoming in Bacon's works, meat taking on incipient traits of the head, the head instantiating 'the unlocalized power

[puissance]

of meat' (FB 22).

The body escaping through one of its organs and the face becoming bestial or meat-like head are but twO instances of a general process whereby the human fonn becomes a Figure, which, says Deleuze, 'is precisely the body without organs' (FB 33). The body without organs 'is opposed less to organs than to that organization of organs which we call the organism,' an 'intense, intensive body . . . traversed by a wave that traces on the body levels and thresholds which correspond to variations in the wave's amplitude' (FB 33). The body without organs is the body of sensation, for sensation is 'the meeting of the wave with Forces acting on the body' (FB 34). The body without organs does have 'organs' in

II

sense, but only provisional organs that emerge and then disappear, or unspecified organs with multiple and contradictory functions. The or­ gans of sensation

are

simply the places where forces meet the undulating

body without organs: 'In the encounter ofexternal forces and the wave at

a given level, a sensation appears. An organ will hence be detennined by that encounter, but a provisional organ, which lasts only as long as the

passage of the wave and the action of the force, and which will shift its

position in order to settle elsewhere' (FB 34). The various organs through which the body escapes, the nose that changes into a pig's snout,

the mouth from which the scream emerges, are all such provisional organs, loci of sensations on the body without organs. Ultimately, what the body without organs discloses is an affective dimension of becoming, one in which no entities as such may be recognized, but oo1y vectors of force-matter and currents of affect. If

Gillel Deleuze: The Aesthetics of Force

263

without organs is a body at all, it is only in the special sense the body word that Deleuze develops in Spinoza: Phi/osophie pratique the of (1981), where he defines the body as a particular configuration of 'relations of swiftness and slowness, of rest and movement, between . . . non-formed ehmenu' and a specific level of affective intensity 'of an anonymousforce'.' Deleuze finds it useful to approach the body without organs through Bacon's images of the human form, for the experience of the body without organs does have a corporeal dimension and Bacon does provide startling and compelling visualizations of the body undergoing a process of becoming. But the body without organs is not simply a psychological mode of experiencing the body. The body without organs is the body of sensation, and sensation takes place at a presubjective level in which body and world cannot be differentiated. The fundamental rhythms of a Bacon canvas, those of the systolic compression of the field and the diastolic deformation of the figure, bring field and figure into a necessary relationship and give rise to the formation of a common body without organs that includes both field

and figure. In Bacon's an, the human form finally is not itself the body

without organs. The canvas is. Or rather, the canvasel

are, for the triptych is Bacon's favorite com­

positional form, and it is in the triptych that Deleuze fmds the most complete development of Bacon's 'logic of sensation'. The essence of sensation is rhythm, and the elementary rhythm of a Bacon painting is the systolic and diastolic

vibration that passes between field and figure.

But Bacon also paints configurations of bodies and objects in complex relations, the multiple vibrations of the several forms interacting with one another and creating diverse patterns of resonance. And in the triptychs, the individual vibrations and panerns of resonance undergo a compulsory

movement that disengages rhythm from specific figures and

gives it an autonomous form. Deleuze discerns in the triptychs three kinds of rhythms: active rhythms of diastolic movement, descent and augmentation; passive rhythms of systolic movement, ascent and dim­ inution; and 'witness rhythms' of horizontal forms that function as constants against which active and passive rhythms may be measured. These rhythms are coordinated within a given triptych through an 'irrational logic, . . . that logic of sensation which constitutes painting' (FB 55), with the end result that 'it is rhythm itself that becomes s�nsation, rhythm that becomes Figure, according to its own separate directions, active, passive , witness' (FB 49).

The rhythms of elementary sensation, the vibrations that pass be­

:;c:n �eld and figure. harness 'forces of isolation, deformation and

ISSlpatlOn' (FB 55). The rhythms of resonant combinations of figures

264

Ronald Bogue

harness 'forces of coupling' (FB 55). But the rhythms of the triptych harness a new force, '3 force of separation' (FB 55), which differs from the force of isolation. [0 most of Bacon's triptychs. each of the three canvases has as its background field the same bright. raw color. Whereas in the individual canvas the tension between the systolic field and the diastolic figure brings field and figure into relation with one another, in the triptych the field of the three paintings forms a single luminous and chromatic element within which the figures float '!ike trapeze artists who no longer have as their medium anything bU[ light and color' (FB 55). The background fields of the three paintings 3fe brought into relation with one another through the unifying force of light and colour, which at the same time imposes a striCt separation of the figures in the individual canvases. Through this separation of the figures, the rhythms of the triptych cease to be tied to particular bodies and themselves become figures, relational movements in a field 'universal light' and 'universal color' (FB 56), light and colour creatina 'an immense space-time which unites all things, but in i."roduci." between them the distances of a Sahara, che cemuries of a" Aion' (FB 56). In the triptych, finally, the unifying and separating forces of light and colour emerge as autonomous pr.inciples, and the disengaged rhythms generated by the various forms become figures of a floating, non­ pulsed time of pure becoming, the time of the Stoic Aion. 10 There are striking similarities between Maldiney's Cezanne and Deleuze's Bacon, in that both critics frame their analyses in terms sensation, systolic and diastolic movements, the force of colour and light, and the rhythms of time. Yet the sensation that Oeleuze finds Bacon is not that of the lived body, but that of the body wi,th"ut' organs, and the forces of systole and diastole, of colour and light the process of change, are not simply the germinal, organic forces the auto-genesis of forms, but also the mutating and deforming forces of a chaotic dimension of affective becoming. The invisible forces that Deleuze finds in Bacon are similar to those Lyotard discovers in Cezanne, forces of disruption and the transgression of 'good form', yet they are not unconscious forces offantasy, but affective forces imman­ ent within the real, forces which in Bacon's triptychs are disclosed through pure vectors of light and the rhythms of an ametrical time.

Music, Cinema and the Aesthetics of Force Bacon's effort is to make visible invisible forces, and in this addressing a problem common to all the ans, 'not that of reproducing

Gilles DeJeuze: The Aesthetics of Force

265

or

inventing forms, but that ofhamessing forces' (FB 39). Though the limits of the present study preclude any detailed investigation of this thesis, a brief consideration of Deleuze's views on music and cinema roay suggest how Deleuze extends the problematics of force beyond the field of painting [0 the other ans. Music is the an Deleuze most often compares with painting, and in

Mille plateaux he

and Guattari speak at length about the handling of

force in that an. Music has its origin in 'the refrain', which Deleuze and Guanari treat as any rhythmic pattern that stakes out a territory.

Every territorial refrain has three basic components: a point of stability in a field of chaos (the reassuring tune a child sings in the dark); a

recurring sequence that circumscribes a propeny (the droppings with which an animal demarcates its territory); and a mutant series that opens towards the outside (a biM's improvisatory salute to the dawn) . Associated with these three components are three kinds of forces, 'forces of chaos, terrestrial forces, cosmic forces', and all of these forces 'confront each other and come together in the refrain' (MP 384). The basic function of the refrain is to territorialize forces, to regularize. control and encode the unpredictable world in regular patterns. But the refrain never remains purely closed and stable. Its emergence from the chaotic flux is only provisional and its rhythms always issue forth to the cosmos at large. Deleuze and Guattari characterize music as that 'active, creative operation which consists of deterritorializing the refrain' (MP 369). In large part music undoes the work of the refrain. engaging the various rhythms and patterns that organize the world and creating from them new and uncoded forms. But music also furthers tendencies that are already present in the refrain, amplifying and developing those rhythms that open the territory towards the cosmos. Modem music especially takes as its project the exploration of such motifs in 'a direct relation of material-forus'. the material being 'a molecularized matter' that harnesses 'the forces of an energetic, nonformal and immaterial Cosmos' (MP 423). Just as painting renders visible those forces that are invisible, so music makes audible inaudible forces. At its limit, Illusic's molecularized sonic matter harnesses such 'nonsonorous

forces as Duration and Intensity' (MP 423), just as the triptychs of Bacon engage the invisible rhythms of the amemcal time of Aion.

Music, like painting, affects the body, but it follows its own logic of sensation, molecularizing and dematerializing the body. Much more than painting, music engages the force of the molecular, which 'has e capacity of making the elementary communicate with the cosmic: preCisely because it causes a dissolution of form that connects the

�

266

Ronald Bogue

most diverse longitudes and latitudes. the slownesses' (MP 379). Deleuze makes explicit the relation between music and forces, but of cinema and forces he says very little. At one point in Cinema 2:

l'image-remps (1985) Deleuze offers a Nietzschean reading of the film.

of Orson Welles and there makes frequent use of the concepts offorce

and power, but for the most pan his theory of cinema is framed in •

Bergsonian and Peircean language of 'images' and 'signs' that i, relatively free of any reference to force. If. however, one conjoins the

final chapter of Cinema 2 and the chapter on Ie visible and l'blonfabN

in Deleuze's FOllcault ( 1 986), one can readily see in what sense cine­ ma, like painting and music, is (or Deleuze an art that harnesses forces. In his monograph on Foucault, Deleuze argues that Foucault's early

'archeologies of knowledge' are organized around the opposition of I.

visible and l'inonfable, of 'that which can be seen' and 'that which

be stated'. What Foucault demonstrates is that knowledge takes through relations of forces that make certain things visible sayable, and others invisible and unsayable. In every historical form�. tion of knowledge, configurations of forces dictate the conditions

:

visibility and enunciability of all possible objects of knowledge, but d..

[���::�

forces of the visible and the forces of the sayable are not the same, do the visible and the sayable directly relate to one another ass

to sign or signified to signifer. Each has its separate history 0

tion and each its separate configuration of forces, even though the

do impinge on and influence one another. In a 19th-century p•.n"p'" cal prison, for example, the architectural space creates a certain

of visibility, and the discourse of delinquency a certain form nf .. , m" ciability. In both cases prisoners emerge as the objects of

,,::�;,�:::�

r but the architectural forces and the discursive forces. thei

forms of visibility and enunciability, their histories and their modes organization, are different.

II

In his archeological studies. then, Foucault separates the dom,.in. of the visible and the sayable and brings into relief the forces that shape those domains. In this regard, his work is consonant with the work several modem filmmakers, who in Deleuze's analysis take as their 12

in which sounds and images are treated as separate components with autono­ project the creation of a cinema that is 'truly audio-visual',

mous modes of organization and articulation. Deleuze argues in Cinl­

ma

2 that in Italian Neo-realism and the French New Wave the classic:

cinema's common-sense coordination of sound and image breakl down and a new practice is inaugurated in which sound and image

Gilles Deleuze: The Aesthetics of Force

267

function as self-contained compositional elements. In the modem cinema, speech, instead of influencing and organizing images, folds back on itself and becomes denaturalized. In the films of Bresson, for

i they were overhearing example, the characters deliver their lines as f else speaking, their speech resonating less with their interlo­ eone som

cutors' discourse than with itself. Visual images, no longer tied to the rational coordinates of a narrative space and time. are jwuaposed in non-rational sequences that function as direct images of time, while the visual space of the modern image becomes

graphic, tectonic'

'archeological, strati­

(C 317), an anonymous, empty, disconnected space

whose 'pictorial or sculptural qualities depend on a geological, tec­ tonic power

[pussance] i

like the rocks of Cezanne' (C 321), or an

oceanographic power that discloses a world of primary liquidity. This separation of sound and image is particularly evident in Mar­ guerite Duras's

La Femme du Gange, which Duras herself describes as

a film of voices and a film oOmages that converge at an infinite point. Speech is defamiliarized in this film and pushed to the limit of the cry or song, towards that which 'is at once seemingly unsayable and yet something that can only be said' (C 339). Likewise the visual images 'are carried to a limit which is at once something invisible and yet something that can only be seen' (C 340). the visual space of the film penneated by 'a fluvial and maritime power

[puissance1'

(C 340) that

dissolves the world into oceanic. molecular flows. Although Deleuze does not say as much, it is clear that what Duras makes visible and sayable in her film ace invisible and unsayable forces, the same forces

that Structure the Foucauldian archives of Ie

flisible

and

l'bumfable.

Like the musician who deterritorializes the rhythms of the refrain, Duras engages the forces that structure the visible and the sayable, and by defamiliarizing conventional images and sounds, creates sonic and Optic assemblages that render audible and visible unheard and unseen forces. What I have identified in Deleuze as an aesthetics of force might in Some sense be called an experimental affective physics, the individual arts, such as painting, music and cinema, delineating broad areas of research into the nature and use of force. In Francis Bacon's painting, forces of isolation, deformation and dissipation connect field and figure; forces of coupling bring figures and objects together; and forces of separation conven triptychs into expanses of light infused with the rhythms of an ametrical time. In music, the forces of the territorial refrain - chaotic, terrestrial and cosmic - are deterritorialized, and in modern compositions a molecularized sound engages nonsonorous forces of duration and intensity. In the modern cinema, the forces that

Ronald Bogue

268

structure the visible and the sayable are isolated and intensified, sound and image diverging in the films afDuras into separate strata that tend towards the extremes of inarticulate cries and oceanic flows. Each art experiments with itself, testing its limits by making visible the in· visible, audible the n i audible, sayable the unsayable. Each an experi· meDIS with forces. the various works of a given an as much inventing as discovering the forces they harness. And each art experiments with the body of sensation, which for Deleuze is the body without organs, the unorganized body-world of non-fonned elements and anonymous affective forces. If there is a domain common to the arts, it is the domain of molecular forces, whose ametrical rhythms and non-pulsed time the individual arts engage in diverse assemblages of light, colour, sound and word. It is this domain that makes possible an open system of the arts, whose common problem is 'not that of reproducing or inventing forms, but that of harnessing forces'.

NOTES Gilles Dtleuze: and Felix Guanan, Mi /Je pfateaux: C4pitCliisme et schizo­ phrin;e 11, Paris; Minuit. 1980, p. 369. AJI further references to this work will be cited in the text lind abbreviated

all translations from French sources

as MP. Unless otherwise are my own.

noted.

2

Gilles Deleuze, 'Entretien sur Mille plateaux' (1 980), in Pourparlers, Paris:

3

Gilles Deleuze and Claire Pamet, Dialogues, Paris: Flammarion,

Minuit,

1990, p. 48. 1977, p.

89.

4

Francis BtJCon: fogique de fa JltlJCltion, Paris: Editions de ill 1981, p. 39. Cited hereafter as FB. Erwin Straus, The Primal')' World of SenJls: A Vindication 0/ Semary Experitnce, trans. Jacob Needleman, 2nd edn., New York: Free Pres., 1963, p. 322. Henri Maldiney, Rtgard Parole £Space, Lausanne; Editions l'Ale d'Homme, 1973, p. 153. Cited hereafter as RPE. Jean-Fran�ois Lyotard, Discours, Figurt, Paris: Klincksieck, 1971, p. 237. Gilles Dtleuze and Felix Guanari, L'Anti-Otd;pt, Paris: Minuit, 1972, p. 290. Gilles Dtleuze, Spinoza: Phl1osophit pratiqut, Paris: Minuit, 1981, p. 171. Gilles Deleuze, difference,

5

6 7 8 9 10

De1euze develops his interpretation of the SlOic concept of Aion in

Logiqut du ftnS, Paris:

Minuit,

1969,

esp. pp.

190-7.

References to AiOR

recur with some frequency in Deleuze'. subsequent works; see, fOf example, Deleuze's treatment of 'hecceities' and becoming in

teaux,

pp.

318-24,

Milk pla­

in which the time of haecceities, becoming and the

event is said to be that of Aion.

Gill£! Deleuze: The AeSlherics of Force 11

269

See Deleuze's 'Un nouveau canographe', in Foucaull, Paris: Minuit, 1986, pp. 31-51, for a detailed examination of the analysis of Jeremy Bentham's 'Plan of the Panopticon' presented in Foucault's Suroriller et punir.

12 Gilles Deleuze. Cintma Hereafter cited as C.

2: l'image-temps,

Paris: Minuit. 1985,

p.

316.

14

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze Compiled by Timothy S. Murphy

1

TEXTS BY DELEUZE

Texts Repudiated by Deleuze (All Writings Prior to 1953) 1945

'Description de 1a femme: Pour une philosophic d'Autrui sexuee' in POUU 45 no. 28, octobre-novcmbre 1945, pp. 28-39. 1946

'Ou ChriS[ a la bourgeoisie ' in Espou (1946), pp. 93--1 06. 'De CriStO a la burguesia', trans. Ricardo Tejada in An;hipilago i 1 5 ( 1993), pp. 27-35. 2 'Mathese. Science et Philosophic', introduction to Jean Malfatti de Monte­ reggio, Elmin sur la Mathise ou Anarchie tt Hierarchie de la Sere'let, Paris: Editions du Griffon d'Or, 1946, pp. ix-xxiv. 3 'Dires et profils' in Pedsie 47 no. 36, decembre 1946, pp. 68-78. 1947

Introduction to Denis Diderot, La Rdigieuu. Paris: Editions Marcel Daubin, 1947, pp. vii-xx. 1952

with Andre Cresson: David Hl4mt, sa vie, son otl4tJrt, avtc I4n exposi de sa philosophit, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1952.

Bibliography of the Works of Gilks DeJeuze

271

"felt'S Acknowledged by Deleuze (1953-Present)

1953 2

'Introduction' to Gilles Deleuze, cd., bucincu It cheue, 1953, pp. viii-xi.

institutions,

Paris: Ha­

Empirisme et subjectivite: Euai sur Ia nature humaine selon Hume, Paris:

Press

Universitaires de France, 1953.

Empirn:ism and Subjectivily: An Buay on Hume's Theory 0/ Huma" Nature, trans. Constanrin V. Boundas, New York.: Columbia University Press, 1991.

Empirismo y Subjectividad,

trlns. Hugo Acevedo, Madrid: Gedisa, 1981.

Preface by Oscar Masotta.

3

Empirismo e soggtltifJita, trans. M. Cavazza, Cappelli, 1 9 8 1 . David Hume, trans. Martin Weinmann, Campus, 1993. i Revue philtnophique rk la France el de l'etrangn: Book. reviews n

Vol. CXUU: 1-3, janvier--man 1953, pp. 107-8: 'Regis Jolivet, u probltme

de /a mon chez M.

Heidegger et J.-P. Sartre'.

Vol. CXLIII: 1-3, janvier-mars 195], pp. 108-9: 'K.E. L6gsuup,

Kierke­ gaard u"d Heideggers Existenzanaiyse und ihr VerhtJlms i zur VerkUndigung'. Vol. CXUII: 1-3, janvier-mars 1953, p. 109: 'Helmut Kuhn, Encounter with Nothinlf7lessiBegegnung mit dem Nichu'. Vol. CXLIIl: 1-3, janvier-mars 1953, pp. 135-6: 'Bemand Russell, Macht und Ptn(jn1ichkeit'. Vol. CXUII: 1-3, janvier-mars 1953, pp. 138-9: 'Carl Jorgensen,

Two

Commandments'. 1954

Revue phi/osophique de la France er de l'euanger. 4-6, avril-juin 1954, p. 283: 'Oarbon, Philosophic de la volonte'.

Book. reviews in Vol. CXUV:

Vol. CXUV: 7-9, juillet-septembre 1954, pp. 457-60: 'Jean Hyppolite,

LogiqlU et existence'.

/955 Book reviews in Revue philosophique de la France tt de I'etranger. Vol. CXLV: 4-6, avril-juin 1955, p. 208: 'Emile Leonard, L 'llIumi"isme

reul1lt (Bresil) ' . Vol. CXLV: 4-6, avril-juin 1955, p. 237: 'J.-P. Same,

dans Uti prottslanrisme de constitulion RevoJUliol1'.

Maleria/Umus ulld

1 956 'Bergson 1859-1941' in Maurice Merleau-Ponty, cd., us PhiloJophlS Paris: Editions d'An Lucien Mazenod, 1956, pp. 292-9.

bres,

cell·

272

Timothy S. Murphy

2 'La conception de la difference chez DerpoD' in La Eludes B",,,mi,,,,•• IV, 1956, pp. 77- 1 1 2 . 'La concezinc della differenza in Bergson,' trans. b y Federico Sossi in

Aut 204, November-December 1984. pp. 42-65. 3 Book review in Cahim du Sud XUll:337, Oct. 1956, pp. 473-5: nand Alquie. Dtuarrts, {'homme ttl'oeuvre', 1957

Book review in Revue philowphiqlUl dt fa France et de IJ�rranger CXLVII:

janvier-mars 1957, p. 105: 'Michel Bernard,

Gabriel Marcel (Erude cdtique)',

La Phi/OlOphi, re/igiewe

1 959 'Sens et valeurs' (on Nieusche) in Argumtn/J 15, 1959, pp. 20-8. R"p,in,"

n i revised Conn in Ni etzsche et fa philosophi, (1962. I below).

1960 'Cours de M. DeJeuze, Sorbonnt 1959-1960: Rousseau.' Lecture notet the archives of I'Ecole Normale Superieure de Sainl-Cloud, series number 12167. 27 typescript pages.

1961 'De Sacher-Masoch au masochisme' in

Ar,rumenLJ 21, 1961, pp.

Reprinted in revised from in Prbentation de Sacher-Masoch (1967. 2

2 'Lucrke et Ie naturalisme' in Etudes philosophiques 1961: I, pp. Reprinted in revised form as an appendix to Logiqut du sens (1969. 1 1962

Nietzsche et fa philosophie, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1962. Nietzsche ami Philosophy, trans. by Hugh Tomlinson, London: Athlone New York: Columbia Univer.oity Press, 1983; pp. 68-72, 133-41 in Constantin V. Boundas, cd., The

.

Deleuze Reader New York:

University Press, 1993. (1993. 2 below). Chapter twO translated as '

and Reactive' in D. Allison, ed.,

The New Nietzsche: Contemporary Styhs Interpretation, Cambridge Mass.: MIT Press, 1977, pp. 80-106. Nietzsche y fa jilosojia, trans. Carmen Anal, Barcelona: Editorial A<... ' " .... 1971.

Nietzsche e la ji/osojia, trans. Fabio Polidori, Milan: Feltrinelli, 1992. Nietzsche und die Philosophie, trans. Bemd Schwibs, Roguer und Bero''''''' , 1976.

Nietzsche e a jilosojia, trans. Ant6nio MagalhAes, Porto: Res., 1987. Brazilian translation: Netzsche i e a jilosojia, Rio de Janeiro: Rio, 1976. Also U'anslaled into Arabic, German and Ponuguese.

Bibliography of Ihe Works of Gilles Deleuze

27 3

2 '2 50' anniversaire de la naissance de Rousseau. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, precurseur de Kafka, de Celine et de Ponge' in Arts 872: 6-12, juin 1962, p. ,

1963

La Philosophie en'tique de Kant: Doctrine des /acultb,

Paris: Presses Universi­

taires de France, 1963.

trans. Hugh Tomlin­ son and Barbara Habberjam, London: Athlone and Minneapolis: Univer­ siry of Minnesota Press, 1984. La Fl1osoft'a enrico di Kam, trans. M. Cavazza, Capelli, 1979. Kanis kritische Philosophie, trans. Mira KOller, Berlin: Merve, 1990. Filmofia Criliea de Kant in Spinoza, Kanr, Nielzsche, trans. Francisco Monge, Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1974. Filosofia en'rica de Kant, trans. Geminiano Franco, Lisbon: Edic;Oes 70, 1987 . Para ler Kant, trans. Sonia Dantas Pinto, Rio de Janeiro: F. Alves, 1 976; second edition 1986. 2 'Mystere d'Ariane' (on Nietzsche) in Bulletin de la Societifranfaise d'etudes nietzschemnes, mars 1963, pp. 12-15. Reprinted in Philosophre, 17, hiver i Magazine Litteraire, 298, 1987, pp. 67-72. Reprinted in revised form n avril 1992, pp. 21-4 (1992. 1 below). Revised version reprinted in Critique tl clinique (1993. 5 below) . Japanese translation in Gendai shisd (Revue de Ja pensee aujourd'hui) 12: I I (#9, 1984), pp. 73-9. Russian translation in Voprosy Filoso/ii, 1993: 4, pp. 48-53. 3 'L'Jdee de genese dans I'esthetique de Kam' in Revue d'Esthitique, 16: 2 avril-juin 1963, pp. 1 1 3-36. 4 Book review of Foucault's Raymond Roussel in Arts, oetobre 23, 1963: 'Raymond Roussel ou ,'horreur du vide'. 5 'Unite de "A 10 recherche du temps perdu'" in Revue de Metophysique el de Morale 4, oetobre-deeembre 1963, pp. 427-42. Reprinted n i revised form in Marcel Prowt et les signes (1964. I below). Kalil's Critical Phlosophy: i The Doctn'ne o/the Faculties,

1964

2

Marcel ProWl et ItJ signes, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1964. Second edition (1970. 6 below) changes title to Prowt et lel sigtles and adds a chapter entitled 'La machine litteraire'. Third edition (1976. 2 below) adds a chapler entitled 'Presence et fonction de la folie, I'araignee' (1973. 8 below) . Marcel Proust e i segni, trans. Clara Lusignoli and Daniela de Agostini, Torino: G. Einaudi, 1967. 'II a ete mon maitre' (on Sanre) in Arts oetobre 28-novembre 3 1964, pp. , 8-9 .

Timothy S. Murphy

214

1965 Nietzsche, Paris: Presses Universitaircs de France, 1965. Nietzsche, trans. Franco Rella. Benani, 1973.

Nietzsche: tin Lestbuch. trans. Ronald Voullic, Berlin: 1979.

Spinoza, Kant, Nietzsche, trans. Francisco Monge, Barcelona: Labor, 1974.

Nietzsche, Lison: Edil;Oes 70, 1985.

Nietzsche. trans. Hans Eric Lampl, Lanser, 1985.

2 'Pierre K1ossoW5ki ou les corps�langage' in en'rique 214, 1965, pp.

2 1 9 . Reprinted in revised rorm as an appendix to Lexique du tens (1969. below).

'Pierre K1ossowski oder die Sprache des KOrpers' in K1ossowski, Blanchot, Deleuze. Foucault, Sprechen W von

Pierre Klonowski, Berlin: Merve Verlag.

K/Jrpert: Marginalien tum

'Pieru Klossowslti ja ruumiin kitcli' in Juko Llnrinen, ed.,

Modnni"

ruvuuksia. Taide 1989. Reprinted in Dcleuze, AUliomoa. Kirjoiruksia ta

1967-1986,

edited by Keijo Rahkonen and Jussi Vllimaa,

Gaudeamus, 1992.

1966 u Btrgsonismt, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1966. Bergsonism, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, New Zone Books, 1988.

£1 Bergsonismo, trans. Luis Ferraro Carracedo, Madrid: Ediciones 1987.

II Bergsonismo. trans. Federica Sossi, Milan: Feltrinelli, 1983.

Bergson J:ur Ein/ilhrung, trans. Martin Weinmann, Junius, 1989. Also translated into Japanese. 2 'Philosophic de la Serie noire' (on hard-boiled detective fiction) in

Loisin 18, janvier 26-f evrier I . 1966, pp. 12-13. Reprinted n i RomtJ1l septembre 1988, pp. 41-7.

J Book review in Revue philosophique de la Frana tt de I'trranger CLVI: janvier-mars 1966, pp. 1 1 5-18: 'Gilbert Simondon, L 'lrlditJidu tt sa

physico-bi% giqut'.

4

Book review of Foucault's us Mots tt les choses in Le N,,",<1 ,Ob,,,",,,', ,",' juI 1, 1966, pp. 32-4: 'L'homme. une existence douteuse'.

'Oer Mensch, ein zweifelhafte ExistelU,' trans. Walter Seitter and

Raulf, in Deleuze and Foucault. Der Faden ist gerisstn. Berlin: M,,�' \'''''' 1977.

5 'Renverser Ie Platonisme' in Rroue de Mttaphysique

tl

de Morolt 71:4

tobre-decembre 1966, pp. 4.26-38. Reprinled in revised form as an dix to Logiqla du sens (1969. 1 below).

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze

275

1967

2

3

4

5

6 7

'Conclusions: Sur la volonte de puissance et I'etemel retour' in Cahiers de Royall/nom: Philosophie # VI: Nietzsche, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1967, pp. 275-87 (see IV. 4 below). and Leopold von Sacher-Masoch: �sentalum de Sacher-MaJoch, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1967. Contains 'Le froid et Ie cruel' by Deleuze and 'Venus a la fourrure' by Sacher-Masoch. Reprinted by 10/18 Paris, 1974. Alasochinn, trans. Jean McNeil, New York: George Bruiller, 1971. Re­ printed by Zone Books, New York, 1989. Presc,,,adon de Sacher-Masoch, trans. A. M. Garda Martinez, Madrid: Taurus, 1973. 11 Frtddo e iJ crudele, Milan: ES, 1991. SadtiMaJoch, Lisbon: Assirio e Alvim, 1973. Also translated into German, Swedish, Danish and Japanese. 'Une Theorie d'autnJi (Autrui, Robinson et Ie pervers)' in Critique 241, 1967, pp. 503-25. Reprinted in revised form as an appendix to Logiqru du wu (1969. 1 below) and !Is a postface to Toumier's Vtndredi ou ItS limbtS du Pacifique, Paris: Gallimard, 1972, pp. 257-83. 'Michel Toumier and the World Without Others', trans. Graham Burchell, Economy and Society, 13: I 1984,pp. 52-7 1 . 'Michel Toumier ja maailma vailla toista' in Parnasro 811985. Reprinted in Deleuze, Autiomaa. KirjoituJuia tJUosilta 1967-1986, edited by Keijo Rahkonen and Jussi Vllimaa, Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992. 'Innoduction' to Emile Zola, La bitt humaine in Oeuvres compUtes tome sixieme, Paris: Cercle du livre prccicux, 1967, edited by Henri Minerand, pp. 1 3-2 1 . Reprinted in revised form as an appendix to Logique du sens ( I 969. 1 below), and as the prHace to the Gallimard edition of La bite humaine, 1977, pp. 7-24. with Michel Foucault: 'Introduction generale' to F. NietzSche, Lt Gai Sawir, et fragmems /X'sthumts, Paris: Gallimard, 1 967, pp. i-iv. Nietzsche texts edited by Giorgio Colli and Massimo Montinari and translated by Pierre Klossowski (sec IV. 5 below). 'L'cclat de rire de Nietzsche' (interview by Guy Dumur) in u NOllvel Oburoaltllr, avril 5, 1967, pp. 40-1. 'La Mhhode de Dramatisation' n i BuOetin de la Sociittfranfaise ch Philosop­ hit 61: 3, juillet-septembre 1967, pp. 89-1 18. Reprinted in revised form in Difjerence e/ reperition ( 1 968. 1 below).

1968 Difjer.:nce et repetition, Paris: Presses Univenitaires de France, 1968. Difjtrt1ll:e and Repetition, trans. by Paul Patton, London: Athlone and New York: Columbia Univeniry Press, 1994. Pages reprinted in Constantin V.

Timothy S. Murphy

276

Tiu Dtlew:t Reader, New York: Columbia University Pres.. 1993 (1993. 2 below). Diferencia y repeticiim, trans. Alberto Cardin, Gij6n: JUcar Universidad. 1988. Introduction by Miguel Morey. Differenz und WiederhlJlung, trans. Joseph Vogi. Berlin: Wilhelm Fink, 1992. Di/trtnfQ t J"tpetictlo. trans. Luiz Orlandi and Roberto Machado, Rio de Janeiro: Graal, 1988. Boundas, cd.,

Also translated into Italian, Japanese and Romanian.

2 Spinoza It it probltmt de I'expression, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1968. Expressionism in Philosophy: Spinoza, trans. Martin Joughin. New York: Zone Books, 1990. Spinoza y tl problema de /Q upruwn. trans. Horst Vogel, Muchnik Editores, 1975. Spinoza und das Problem des Ausdrucks in der Philosophic, trans. Schneider, Berlin: Wilhelm Fink. Also translated into Japanese.

3 'A propos de J'Mition des oeuvres completes de NietzSche: Entretien Gilben (sic] Deleuze' by Jcan.Nofl Vuarnet in Us LeurtS jranfaisu f evrier 28-mars 5, 1968, pp. 5, 7, 9. 4 'Le Schizophrene et Ie mOt' (on Carroll and Anaud) in aout-septembre 1968, pp. 73 1-46. Reprinted in revised form in St7U (1 969. I below).

C::;::��;:;':

1969

Logique du ftnf, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1969. Includes the '0110'''' texts cited in this bibliography: 1961. 2, 1965. 2, 1966. 4, 1967. 3, 1967. and 1968. 4 above. Reprinted by 10118, Paris, 1973. The LogK 0/ Stmt, trans. by Mark Lester with Charles Stivale. Edited

Constantin Boundas, New York: Columbia University Press and Lond... Athlone,

,�•.�n,�d:'�;::!

1990. Pan of series 13 translated and published as 'The

phrenic and Language: Surface and Depth in Lewis CarrolIII

Turual Straugies: Perspectives in P Criticism, Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1979, pp. 277-95 and in Kurzweil and W. Phillips, eds, Liltratu'ft and Psychoanalysis, New Columbia University Press, 1983. Pages 1-3, 14S-53, 307-9, 3 1 D-13, 315-21 reprinted in Constantin V. Boundas, cd., The Dekuze Reader, York: Columbia University Press, 1993 (1993. 2 below). L;jgica del serltido, trans. Miguel Morey and Victor Molina, B"",,"o,,", Paid6s Iberica, 1989. LtJgica thlsmso, trans. M. De Stefanis, Mi l an: Feltrinelli, 1976 (1976' De i LtJgik des Sirlm, trans. Bernhard Dieckmann, Frankfun: S' 1992. LtJgica da stnrida, trans. Luiz Roberto Salinas Fortes, Sao Paolo: Ed'",,, .. Anaud' in J. Harari, ed.,

"��.�';�:�,

..

Universidade de Sao Paolo. Re·issued by Editora Perspectiva S.A. Also translated n i to Japanese.

,

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles

De/euze

277

2 'Gilles Deleuze parle de 1a philosophie' (interview by Jeannette Columbel)

in La Qui"zaine Litceraire 68, 1-15 mars, 1969, pp. 18-19. I in Revue t:k Mefa­

3 Book review of Manial Guerouh's Spinoza volume

physique et de Morale 74: 4, octobre-decembre 1969, pp. 426-37: 'Spinoza et

la methode generale de M. Gueroult'.

1970

Spjnoza, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1970. (Second edition, Spinoza: Philosophie pratique, includes three new chapters and deletes the selections from Spinoza's works: see 1981. I below). Spilloza, Kant, Nietzsche, trans. Francisco Monge, Barcelona: Editorial

Labor, 1974. Spi'lOza e os Signos, trans. Abilio Ferreira, Res editora, 1981.

2 'Schizologie', preface to Louis Wolfson, u Schizo et It! langut!, Paris: GaJlimard, 1970, pp. 5-23. Reprinted in revised form in Critique et dillique (1993. 5 below). 3 Book review of Foucault's L 'Archaeologie du satJoir in en'tique 274, mars 1970, pp. 195-209: 'Un nouvel archiviste'. Reprinted as a separate edition b)' Fata Morgana (1972). Reprinted in revised form in Foucault (I 986. I below). 'A New Archivist', trans. Stephen Muecke, in Peter Botsman, ed., Theort­ rieal Straltgies, Sydney: Local Consumption, 1982. 'Un nuovo archivista' in Deleuze, Cosenza: Edistampa-Edizioni Lerici,

1976, pp. II-53. 'Ein neuer Archivar', trans. Walter Seitter and Ulrich Raulf in Deleuze and Foucault, Der Fadell ist gen'ssell, Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1977. 4 'Faille et Feux locaux: Kostas Axelos' in Cn'tique 26: 275, avril 1970, pp. 344-5 1 . 5 'Proust et les signes' in La Quil1:�aine Litcerairt 103, octobre 1-15, 1970, pp. 18-21. Extract from 'La machine Iitteraire', chapter added to the second edition of Marcel Proust et les sigllel ( 1 964. I above). 6 Proust et les siglles, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1970. Expanded reprint of Marcel Proust el les siglles (see 1964. I above and 1976. 2 below). Text added: chapter 7, 'La machine litteraire'. ProUst and Sigm, trans. Richard Howard, New York: George Braziller, 1972. PrOWl Y 10$ signol, trans. Francisco Monge, Barcelona: Anagrama, 1972.

7

Also translated into Japanese. with Felix Guanari: 'La synthcse disjonctive' in L 'Arc 43: Klossowski, pp. i l'Allri-Oedipt (I972. I below). 54-62. Reprinted in revised form n

1971

with Michel Foucault, Denis Langlois, Claude Maunac and Denis Perrier­ Davi!le: 'Questions a Marcellin' in u Nouvel Observattur, juillet 5, 1971, p.

15,

Timothy S. Murphy

278 1 9 72 with Felix Guauari:

Capitalisme tt schizophrinir lome 1.' I'Amj.Qtdipe. Paris: 1972. Second edition 1973 adds 'Bilan-progt'amme pour machincs-desirantes' from Minu;1 2 (1973. 4 below) as an appendix. A,lli·Oedipus: Capita/ism and Schizophrenia, trans. Robert Hurley, Mark Editions de Minuit,

Seem and Helen R. Lane. Preface by Michel Foucault. New York: Vikina

Press,

1984. Selections entitled 'Psychoana­ SubStance 1 1112, 1975, pp. 170-97. Selections reprinted in H. Adams and L. Searle, cds, Critical Theory Sinu 1965, Tallahassee: Florida State University Press, 1986. Pages 84-9 re­ printed in Constantin V. Boundas, ed., The DtltllZt Rtodtr (1993. 2 below). El Antiedipo, trans. Francisco Monge, Barcelona: Barral, 1973. Re-issued 1977

and London: Athlonc,

lysis and Ethnology' published in

by Ediciones Paidos Iberica S.A., Barcelona.

L'Anli-Edipo, Turin: Einaudi, 1975. Anti-Odipus, trans. Bernd Schwibs, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1974. 0 anti-Edipo, trans. Joana Morais Varela and Manuel Maria Carrilho, Lisbon: Assirio & Alvim, 1977. KAPITALISMOS KAI SCIZOFRENEIA: 0 Anti-Oidipouz, trans. Fr.... guiski AmbalZopoulou, Athens: Kedros Publishers IHRIDANOS-Eridanus f.4J,

1973.

Also translated n i to Japanese and Chinese.

Hutoire de la PhiJosophe i tome 4: fA LumiireJ, Paris: Hachenc, 1972, pp. 65-78. Reprintcd in Chatelct, ed., 1...4 PhiIoJophe i tome 2: De GaJilh d Jtan-Jacques Rowseau, Vcrvien, Belgium: Marabout, 1979, pp. 226-39. 'Hume' in Chatelet, Historia dD ji/oJojia, trans. A. C. Ribciro et ai, Lisboa: Dom Quixote, 1980. 3 'A quoi reconnait-on Ie structuralismc?' in Fran�ois Chatelet, cd., HistoiTf de la philosophie tome 8: Le XXt srede, Paris: Hachette, 1972, pp. 299-335, Reprinted in Chatclct, cd., La Philosophie tome 4: au XXe si�de, Vervien, Belgium: Marabout, 1979, pp. 293-329. WOTan erltennt It,an tk" StrultturalismwJ, trans. Eva Bruckner-PfafTenberger and Donald Watts Tuckwiller, Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1992. Also in ChAtelu, cd., Hutoria dajiloJojia, trans. A. C. Ribeiro et ai., LisboD: Dom Quixote, 1980. 4 'Trois problemes de groupe:', preface to Felix Guattari, Psychanalyse a tramwrsalitl, Paris: Fran�ois Maspcro, 1972, pp. i-xi. Reprinted n i Chim/ra 23, �t� 1994, pp. 7-2 1, under the title 'Pierre-Felix' (see IV. 6 below). 'Three Group Problems', lIans. Mark Seem in Semiotext(t): Anti-Otdipus vol. 2, no. 3, 1977, pp. 99-109. 5 with Michel Foucault: 'Les intellectuals et Ie pouvoir' in L 'Art' 49: De/erae, 1972, pp. 3-10. Reprinted in 1980. 'Intellectuals and Power' n i Michel Foucault: Language, Counter--Memary, Prac­ 2

'Humc' in Fran�ois Chatelct, cd.,

riet, trans. Donald F. Bouchard and Sherry Simon, Ithaca: Cornell

Bibliography of the

Works of Gilles

Deleuze

279

University Press, 1 977, pp. 205-17. Also published in Telos 16, summer

1973, pp. 10l-9. Also in De/euze, Cosenza: Edistampa-Edizioni Lerici, 1976.

'Die Intellektuellen und die Macht' in Deleuze and Foucault, Der Faden isl gerissen, trans. by Walter Seitter and Ulrich Raulf, Berlin: Merve

Verlag, 1977. Reprinted in Deleuze, Foucauh et al., Von der Subwrsiol1 des

Wissens, Frankfun: Fischer Verlag, 1 987.

i HRIDANOS (Eridanus) Also translated by Franguiski Ambatzopoulou n f.4, 1973.

;Intellektuellit ia valta' n i Jussi Kotkavina, ed., Power & FlowerSYL-julkaisu

i Deleuze, 4/1982. Reprinted n

AucWmaa.

Kirjoituksio. lIUOSiIt(l 1967-1986,

edited by Keijo Rahkonen and Jussi Vilimaa, Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992.

6 with Felix Guattari: 'Sur Capitalisme et schizophrenie' (interview with Catherine Backes-Clement) in L'Are 49: Deleuze, 1972, pp. 47-55. Re­

printed in 1980. Also published as 'Entretien sur l'Anri-Oedi�' in

Pour­

porlers 1972-1990 (1990. 3 below), pp. 24-38. In Negotiatiol1s 1972-1990, trans. Manin Joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995.

In

Verhond/ungen

Suhrkamp, 1992.

(Pourparlers),

trans.

Gustav

Rossler,

Frankfun:

7 Extracts from unpublished courses given by Deleuze at the Ecole Nonnale Superieure (rue d'Ulm) and at the Faculte de Vincennes in 1 970-1971 and (rom Deleuze's intervention at a Proust colloquium at the E.N.S. on Jan. 22, 1972, cited in France Berc;u, 'Sed perscverare diabolicum' i n L' A re 49: Deleuze, 1972, pp. 2l-4, 26-30.

8 'Ce que les prisonniers attendent de nous . . . ' (on the Groupe: d'Informa­ tion sur les Prisons) in u Nouvel Obser1Ioteur, janvier 3 1 , 1972, p. 24.

9 with Jean-Paul Same, Simone de Beauvoir, Claude Mauriac, Jean-Marie Domenach, Helene Cixous, Jean-Pierre Faye, Michel Foucault and Maurice Clavel: 'On en parlera demain: Les dossien (incomplets) de I'ecran' in Le Nouvel Obseroateur, f evrier 7, 1972, p. 25.

10 'Appreciation' of Jean-Franc;ois Lyotard's Discours, figur� n i La Quimlaine

UUtrain 140, mai 1 , 1972, p. 1 9 . I I with Felix Guauari: 'Dcleuze e t Guattari s'expliquent . . . ' (interview

with Maurice Nadeau, Raphal!1 Pivida1, Franc;ois Chitelet, Roger Da­ doun, Serge Leclaire, Henri Torrubia, Pierre Clastres and Pierre Rose) in

LD Quinzoine Liniroire 143, juin 16-30, 1972, pp. 15-19.

12 Book review of Cixous' novel Ntutre in u Monde 8576, aout 1 1 , 1972, p. 10: 'Gilles Deleuze presente Helene Cixous ou I'ecnrure stroboscopique'.

13 with Felix Guattari: 'II linguaggio schizofrenico' (interview by Vittorio MarChetti) in Tempi Modemi 12, 1972, pp. 47-64. Includes photographs of Dcleuze, Guattari and patients at the Clinique de la Borde.

1 4 'Qu'est-ce que c'est, tes "machines desirantes" a toi?', introduction to Pierre Benichou, 'Sainte Jackie, Comedienne et Bourreau' n i us Temps

Modemes 316, novembrc

1972, pp. 854-6.

280

Timothy S. Murphy

15 'Joyce indirect' in Change 1 1, 1972, pp. 54-9. This article is an assemb­

lage, by Jean Paris, of texts on Joyce from the following Delcuze boob: (1 970. 6 above), Difference It reperition (1968. I above) and Logiqut du sens (1969. I above).

?rolm It Its signes

1 9 73

with Gerard Fromanger: Frornanger, Ie /Hintrt tt It modi/t, Paris: Baudard Alvarez, 1973. Contains 'u froid ct Ie chaud' by Deleuze and reproduc. tions of a series of Fromangcr's paintings. 2 'Pense/; nomade' and ensuing discussion, as well as discussion followingtbe presentation by Pierre Klossowski, in Nietzsche aujourd'huil tome I; Inrnt­ sitts, Paris: 10/18, 1973. pp. 105-2 1 , 159-90. 'Nomad Thought', trans. David B. Allison (without discussion) in David B. Allison. ed., The New Nietzsclu: Conumporary Sryks o/Inzerpreuuio", Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. 1977, pp. 142-9. Also n i Stmiouxr(e) 3: I, 1978, pp. 12-20. 'Pensd nomadi' in A"iisi 10/1985. Reprinted in Deleuze, Auriomaa. Kirj� tuksia "lWsilta 1967-1986, edited by Keijo Rahkonen and Jussi Vllima.. Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992. Also in Gendai shislJ (Revue ck fa petUu aujourd'hui) 12: I I , #9, 1984, pp.

163-75. 3 with Felix Guanari: Interview in M.-A. BUrnier, cd., G'en demain fa wil#, Paris: Editions du Seui1, 1973, pp. 137-61. i Mimtit 4 with FHix Guanari: 'Bilan-programme pour machines desirantes' n 2, janvier 1973, pp. 1-25. Reprinted as an appendix to the second edition of L 'Anti-Oedipe (1972. I above).

'Balance Sheet-Program for Desiring-Machines' in Semiotext(e): Ami-Oedt­ pus vol. 2 no. 3, 1977, by Robert Hurley, pp. 1 1 7-35. 5 Contributor to recherches 12, mars 1973: Grande Encyclopidie del HOnt� slXualiw-Trois mil/iards de perom. As all of the texts in this volume arc anonymous, Deleuze's specific contributions are a maner of conjecture (sec VI.2 below). 6 Responses to a questionnaire on 'La belle vic des gauchistes' sent by Guy Hocquenghem and Jean-Fran�ois B z i ot, published in Actuel 29, mars 1973, and reprinted in Hocquenghem, L 'Apres-Mai des jallnes. Paris: Grasset, 1974, pp. 97, 1 0 1 . 7 'Lcttre III Michel Cressole' in LA Quinzaine Litteraire 1 6 1 , avril I, 1973, pp. 17-19. Reprinted in M. Cressole, Delellze, Paris: Editions Univenitaircs. 1973, pp. 107-18. Also published as 'Lcttre III un critique severe' n i Pour­ parlen 1972-1990 (1990. 3 below), pp. 1 1-23. 'I Have Nothing [0 Admit', trans. Janis Fonnan in Semiottxt(l): Anti-Oedi­ pus vol. 2 no. 3, 1977, pp. 1 10-16. Also in Negotiations 1972-1990, trans. by ManinJoughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. 'Brief an Michel Cressole' trans. K. D. Knachu, in Deleuze, Kleine Schrif tIn, Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1980, pp. 7-23. Also trans. Gustav Rossler in VerhandJungen (Pourparim), Frankfun: Suhrkamp, 1992.

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze

281

8 'Presence et fonction de la folie dans la recherche du temps perdu' in Saggi e Richerche di Letteratura Francese vol. XII, new series, Rome: Editore. 1973, pp. 381-90. Chapter added to Proust et les signes (1964. I above and 1976. 2 below). 'The Signs of Madness: Proust', trans. Constantin V. Boundas in Boun­

das, ed.,

The Deleuze Reader, New York: Columbia University Press.

1993, pp. 127-35 (1993. 2 below).

'Presenza e funzione della follia nella "Recherche du Temps perdu" ',

trans. by Marco Macciantelli in Aut

Aut 193-4, March-April 1983, pp.

73-81. 9 with Felix Guattari: '14 Mai 1914. Un seu! ou p!usieurs loups?' (on Freud's Wolf Man) in Minuit 5, septembre 1973, pp. 2-16. Reprinted in revised form in Capitali sme et schizophrenie tome 2: Mille plateaux (1980. I below). i Semiotext(e): 'May 14, 1914. One or several wolves?', trans. Mark Seem n Anti-Oedipus voL 2 no. 3, 1977. In Deleuze,

Autiomaa. Kirjoituksia f}uosilUJ 1967-1986, edited by Keijo

Rahkonen and Jussi Villimaa, Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992.

!O 'Relazione di Gilles Deleuze' and ensuing discussions in Armando Verdi­ glione, ed.,

Psicanalisi e Politica: Aui dd COmJegno di studi unmo a Milano

1'�9 maggio 1973, Milan: Feltrinelli, 1973, pp. 7-11, 17-21, 37-40,

44-5, 1 69-72.

I I with Felix Guattari and Michel Foucault: 'Chapitre V: Le Discours du plan' (on urban space) in Fran�ois Fourquet and Lion Murard, eds,

Les iquipemenrs du pcufJoir, recherches 13, dccembre 1973, pp. 183-6. Re­ printed as 'Chapitre

IV:

Formation des equipemems collectifs' in Les

iquipemenrs du pcuwir by 10/18, 1976, pp. 2 1 2-20.

12 with Feix l Guattari: 'Le Nouvel arpenteur: Intensites et blocs d'enfance dans "Le Chateau" in Critique 319, dCcembre 1973, pp. 1046-54. Reprinted in revised form n i Kafka: pourune littirature mineure (1975. 3 below). 13 with Stefan Czerkinsky: 'Faces et surfaces' (discussion and six drawings by Deleuze) in Deleuze and Michel Foucault,

Melanges: pcuwir et surjQ(e,

Paris: no publisher listed, 1973, pp. 1-10 (see 1994. 2 below).

1974 Preface to Guy Hocquenghem,

1974, pp. 7-17.

L 'Apres-Mai des Faums, Paris: Grasset,

2 with Felix Guattari: '28 novembre 1947. Comment 5e faire un corps sans organes?' n i form in

3

Minuit 10. septembre 1974. pp. 56-84. Reprinted in revised Capitalisme el schizophrenie zome 2: Mille plateaux (1980. 1 below).

'How to Make Yourself a Body Without Organs', trans. Suzanne Guerlac in Semioltxt(e) IV: I , 1981.

'Un

art d e planteur' in Deleuze. Jean-Pierre Faye. Jacques Roubaud and Alain Touraine, Dcleuze-Faye-Roubo.ud-Touraine par/em de "Les Autres, " UII

film de Hugo Samiago icrit en colloboratiotl afJec Jorge Luis Borges et Adolfo Biay Casares, Paris: Christian Bourgois, 1974, unpaginated.

TimOlhy S. Murphy

282

1 975 'Deux regimes de fous' in Armando Vcrdiglionc, cd.,

tique: Acrts du colloque de Milan, Paris: 10/18, In A. Verdiglionc, G. Oelcuze and

Barcelona: Gc:disa Editorial.

1. KriStCV8. Psieoanalisis y stmiOtico,

In Gendai shoo (Revue de lapmsh aujourd'hulI

2 'Schizophr�nie ct societe' in

EruyclQpadia

clopEdia Univcrsalis, 1975, pp. 733-5.

3 with FHix Guanari:

PJychanaiyst et sbJrio,.

1975, pp. 165-70.

12: I I, #9, 1984, pp. 98-102.

Universalis vol.

14, Paris:

Ency­

KajJt.a; Pour unt littb-aturt minftlrt, Paris: Editions de

Minuit, 1975 (sec 1973. 12 above).

Kafka: Toward a Minor Literature, trans. Dana Polan.

Foreword by Redt.

BensmaIa. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1986. Chapler two

published as 'A Bloated Oedipus' in

Stmiotut{t) 4: I, 1981, pp. 97-101 .

Chapter three published as 'What is a Minor Literature?' in

Revifto 1 1 : I, 1983 and in M. Anderton, ed.,

M;""';JI>II

Reading Kafka: Pragut,

and the Fin ck sieck, New York: Schocken. 1989, pp. 80-94. Chapter Liltrary History 16: 3, spring 1985, pp. 591-608. 16-27 reprinted in Constantin V. Boundas, ed., The DeleuZl Reader.

published in New

York: Columbia University Press, 1993 (1993. 2 below).

Kafka:

Por

una liuratura

Era, 1978.

menor,

trans. Jorge Aguilar, Mexico: Ed'd.,...

K4j1(a: Per u"a {literature minore, Milan: Feltrinelli, 1975. &1](0, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1976.

Also translated n i to Japanese, Serbo-Croatian, Danish and Norwegian.

4 with Roland Sanhes and Gerard Genette: 'Table ronde' in

Mar tl PrOlHt new series 7, 1975, pp. e

Cahien

87- 1 1 5 .

5 with Jean-Fran�ois Lyotard: 'A propos du dcpartement de psycbanal)'1e Vincennes' in us

Temps Modemts 342, janvier

Lyotard,

Writingl, trans. Bill Readings and Kevin Paul

1975, pp. 862-3.

'Concerning [he Vincennes Psychoanalysis Departmen[' in J : � '�-Z ; : :!

Political

Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993, pp. 68-9.

6 Book review of Foucault's

Suroeillu et punir in Critique

343, ..,<","'�

1975, pp. 1207-27: 'Ecrivain non: un nouveau canographe'. Reprinted

revised form in

Foucault (1986.

I below).

'Escritor no: un nuevo canografo' in

Liberacion 6, Dec. 30, 1984, pp. 14-15.

'Kein Schriftsteller: Bin neuer Canographe' in Deleuze and Foucault,lJ#t

Faden

ist

gerinen,

Verlag. 1977.

trans. Walter Seitter and Ulrich Raulf. Berlin: Mem

1976 with Felix Guattari:

Rhizonu: Introduction_ Paris: Editions de Minuit. 1976. Capitalisme It lchjzoph�nej tome 2: MilJI

Reprinted in revised form n i

plateau� (1980. I below) .

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze

283

'Rhizome, trans. Paul Foss and Paul Patton in I and C 8, 1981. Also in Deleuze and Guatlari, On the Line, trans. John Johnston, New York: Semi­ otext(e) , 1983. Rizoma, trans. Victor Navarro and C. Casillas, Valencia: Pre-Textos, 1984. Rizoma, Parme: Pratiche, 1977.

RJiizom, trans. Dagmar Berger, Clemens Haerle et ai., Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1977. i De­ 'Rihmasto' in Aloha! The Journal of Civilization 5/1986. Reprinted n leuze, Autiomaa. Kjrjoituksia vuosilta 1967-1986, edited by Keijo Rahkonen and Jussi Vlilimaa, Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992.

2 Proust et Its sipes, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1976. Expanded

reprint of Marcel Proust et les sipes ( l 964. 1 and 1970. 6 above) . Text added: conclusion, 'Pr�sence et fonetion de la folie, I'araign�e' (see 1973. 8

above). Proust u"d die Zeichen, trans. Henriette Beese, Berlin: UUstein, 1978. Re­ printed Berlin: Merve, 1993. Prouse e i Segni, trans. Clara Lusignoli and Daniela da Agostini, Turin: Einaudi, 1986. Revised and updated version of 1968 Einaudi trans­ lation.

Proust e os signos, trans. Antonio Carlos Piquet and Roberto Machado, Rio de Janeiro: Forense-Universitaria, 1987.

o Proust kai ta Simeia, trans. K. Xatzilimou and J. Ralli, Athens: Kedros,

1982.

Earlier translations listed under earlier French publications (1964. 1, 1 970. 6 above). 3 'Avenir de linguistique', preface to Henri Gobard, L 'A/ienation linguis­ (ique, Paris: Flammarion, 1976, pp. 9-14. Simultaneously published as 'Les langues sont des bouillies ou des fonctions et des mouvements mettent un peu d'ordre polemique' n i La Quinzaine Liltbajre, mai 1-15, 1976, pp. 12-13.

'Die Sprachen sind ein Brei, in den Funktionen und Bewegungen ein wenig polemische Ordnung bringen'. trans. K. D. Schacht, in Deleuze, Kleine Sehnften, Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1980.

4 'Trois questions sur Six/ois deux' (on Godard's television films) in Gahien du Cinema 271, 1976, pp. 5-12. Reprinted in Pourparlers 1972-1990 ( 1 990.

3 below), pp.

55-66. 'Three Questions on "Six Fois Deux"', trans. Diane Matias, in Afterimage

7, Summer 1978, pp. 1 13-19; and in Negotiations 1972-1990, trans. Marrin JOughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. Also in Verha,ullungen (Pourparkrs), trans. Gustav Rossler, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1992.

5 Book review of ie Misogyne by Alain Roger: in La Quinzaine Liubaire, 229,

mars 16-31, 1976, pp. 8-9: 'Gilles Deleuze fascine par Ie Misogyne'.

6 'Nota dell'aulore per I'edizione italiana' in Logica del senso, uans. M. De

Stefanis, Milan: Feltrinelli, 1976, pp. 293-5 (see 1969. 1 above) .

284

Timothy S. Mu.rphy

1977 with Claire Pamer: Dialogues. Paris: F1ammarion, 1977. English translation: Dialogues, New York: Columbia University Prcsa.

1987, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habbcrjam. Pages 79-9 1. 95-103, 124-37 and 143-7 reprinted in Constantin V. Boundas, ed., nr. Dekuze Reader, New York: Columbia University 1993 (1993. below). Final dialogue also translated by John Johnston in S"n;" <x'('_) 3' 1978, pp. lS4-{;3 and in Deleuze and Guattari, On rhe Line, New � Semiotext(e), 1983. Did/ogos, trans. Jose Vazquez Perez, Valencia: Pre.Textos, 1980. DiDlogen, trans. Monique Scheepers, Kok Agora, 1991. Dialoge, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1980. Also translated into Japanese, Italian, Brazilian and Portuguese.

2 with Felix Guauari: Poljt,que et pS}ochanalyse, Alen�on; des mots p",o... 1977. DeJeuze, 'Four Propositions on Psychoanalysis', trans. Paul Foss;

���::::

l ces', trans. Paul Foss and Meaghan Morris in Foss and Morris, Gualtari, Claire Parnet and Andre Scala, 'The Interpretation of

Language, Sexualily and Subversion, DarlinglOn, Australia; Feral 1978, pp. 135-58.

Gualtari, 'The Role of the Signifier in the Institution', trans. Ro", ... �

Sheed in Molecular Revo/un'on, New York; Penguin, 1984, pp. 73-81.

Deleuze, Guanari, Parnet and Scala, 'L'interprerazione degJi ,n.nd.d'; trans. Maurizio Ferraris inAutAut 19 1-2, September-December 1982,

92-112. Japanese translation (partial) i n Gendai shisiJ (Revue de /a P"";" a"j'"""'oO

12; I I, #9, 1984, pp. 80--7. 3 'Ascension du social', postface to Jacques Donzelot, La Poiice d"ja,m""'" Paris; Editions de Minuit, 1977, pp. 213-20. 'The Rise of the Social', preface to J. Donzelot, The Policing 0/ Pa,m"'"" trans. Roben Hurley, New York: Pantheon, 1979, pp. ix-xvii. 'L'ascesa del "sociale" , in Aut Aut 167-8, 1978, pp. 108-14. 4 'Le juif riche' (on Daniel Schmid's film L'Ombre des anges) n i i.e f evrier 18, 1977, p. 26. Reprinted in Irene Lambelet, ed., Daniel S Lausanne: Editions I'age d'homme, 1982, pp. 93-5. 5 'Gilles Deleuze contre les "nouveaux philosophes'" (interview) in Mandt, juin 19-20, 1977, p. 19. Reprinted as a supplement to Minui! 24,

�::�:

juin 5, 1977; also in recherches 30: Les UntoreJli, novembre 1977, pp. 179-84; and in Faul·jJ brUler les nouveaux philosophest, Paris: NouveUet

Editions Oswald, 1978, pp. 186-94, under the title 'A propos des nouveaUS philosophes et d'un probh�me plus general'. 'Uber die neuen Philosophen und ein allgemeines Problem' in DeJeuze,

Kleine Schri/ten, trans. K. D. Schacht, Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1980, pp. 85-96.

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze

285

Japanese translation in Gendai shisb (Revue ck fa pensle aujourd'hui) 12: #9 . 1984. pp. 176-83.

II,

6 'Nous croyons au caracthe constructiviste de certaines agitations de gauche' (petition concerning the Italian Left) in recherches 30: us Untorelli,

novembre 1977, pp. 149-50 (see VI. 9 below). 7 with Felix Guanari: 'Le pite moyen de faire l'Europe' (on Klaus Croissant

8

and the Baader-Meinhof group) in u Monde 2 novembre, 1977, p. 6. IntrOductory and concluding notes on the draft sections of Martial Gue­

i de France et de roult's Spinoza tome 3 published in La Revue philoscphque I'ecranger CLXVII, 1977, pp. 285, 302. These notes are signed 'G. D.' and have not been definitively attributed to Deleuze.

1978 with Carmelo Bene: SOtJrapposizioni, Milan: Feltrinelli, 1978.

Superpositions, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1979. Contains 'Un manifeste de moins' by Deleuze, pp. 85-131. 'One Manifesto Less' trans. Alan Orenstein in C. V. Boundas, ed., The Deleuze Reader, New York: Columbia University Press, 1993, pp. 204-22 (1993. 2 below) . 'Ein Manifest weniger' in Deleuze, Kleine Schrijren, trans. K. D. Schacht, Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1980, pp. 37-74. Also translated into Japanese. 2 'Deux questions' (on drug use) in Franc;ois Chitelet, Gilles Deleuze, Eri ik Genevois, Fl!:lix Guanan, Rudolf Ingold, Numa Musard and Claude Olievenstein, . .

.

ou if ell question. ck fa roxicomanie, Alenc;on: Bibliotheque

des Mots perdus, 1978, unpaginated.

3 with Fanny Deleuze: 'Nietzsche et Paulus, Lawrence et Jean de Patmos', preface to D. H. Lawrence, Apocalypse, Paris: Balland, 1978, pp. 7-37. Lawrence text translated by Fanny Deleuze. Reprinted in revised form in

Critique el clinique (1993. 5 below) . 'Nietzsche und paulus, Lawrence und Johannes von Patmos' in Deleuze,

Kleine Schri/ten, trans. K. D. Schacht, Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1980, pp. 97-128.

Japanese translation in Gendai shiso (Rroue de fa penJee aujourd'hui) 12: I I ,

#9, 1984,pp. 299-325. 4 'Spinoza et nous' and ensuing discussion in Rroue ck Synthese III: 89-91

janvier-septembre 1978, pp. 271-8. Reprinted in revised form n i Spilloza:

Phifol0phie pralique (second edition of Spilloza, 1970. I above; see 1 9 8 1 . I below).

'Spinoza und wir' in Deleuze, Kleine SchnlulI, trans. by K. D. Schacht,

Berlin: Merve Verlag, 1980, pp. 75-84.

5 'Philosophie et Minorite' in Critique 34: 369, fevrier 1978, pp. 154-5. 'Philosophie und Minderheit' in Deleuze, Kleine Schrijren, trans. K. D. Schacht, Berlin: Merve Verlag. 1980, pp. 27-9.

6 'Les Geneurs' (on the Palestinians) in I.e Monde, avril 7, 1978.

Timothy S. Murphy

286

7 Book review of Pierre Fedida's L 'Absence in Le M01ItU, octobre 13, 'La plainlt et Ie corps'.

8 'Rendre audibles des forces non·audibles par elle·memes', position state-.

ment distributed at a conference at I'lnstirut de Recherche et de Coordina­

tion ACOllstiqueiMusiquc: (lReAM) in

1978.

1979 'En quoi

1& philosophic: peut servir a des mathernaticiens. ou meme •

musiciens - meme ct sunout quand clle ne parle pas de: musique ou mathematiquc:s' in Jean Brunet, B. Cassen. Fran�ois Chileiet, P ';., and M. Reberioux, eds, Vincmnes ou Ie disjr d'apprendrt, Paris: J: Alain Moreau,

1979, pp. 120-1.

'Wit die Philosophic: Mathematikem und

;;i;i�;:

.�: ;:::.�:=�:,�:�:�:;,.��',� ' ::

athematik s p richt' n i sonders, wenn sic: nicbt von Musik oder M Kkine Schri/Urt. trans. K. D. Schacht, Berlin: Mc:rve Verlag, 1980, pp.

2 Lener on the arrest of Antonio Negri in LA Rtpubbl�a, May 1979. English translation: 'Open Letter to Negri's Judges' in Semiocext(t): Autonomia/PoJt-Po/jtica/ Po/ilia 3: 3, 1980 by Committee April 7, pp. 4, 3 Member of the Comite de prepantion for the Btats ginirau:.c dt/a ph,i/""pI>_ (16 et 1 7 juin 1 979), Paris: Aammarion, 1979, pp. 6-19. 4 Book review of Antonio Negri's Marx au-deIJ de Marx in LA M,,,,,, d, ..... decembre 13, 1979, p. 32: 'Ce livre est liueralement une preuve nocence'.

1980 with Felix Guanari: GapiUJliJmt et Jchizophrinie tome 2: Mille plateaux, E ditions de Minuit, 1980.

A Thousand Plateaus: Gapilalism and Schizophrenia, trans. Brian M,,,,,omI Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987. 'Concrete Rules Abstract Machines' published in SubStanu 44/45, 1984, pp. 17-29. selection entitled 'Becoming-Woman' published in Subjecu./Objuu spring 1985, pp. 24-32. A selection entitled 'City-State' published in 112, 1985, pp. 195-9. A selection entitled 'Nomad An' published ;n A " m.. Text 19, Oct.-Dec. 1985, pp. 16-24. Pages 5-12, 2 1 , 100-6, 261-5, 3 1 1-1 2, 295-8, 452-60, and 492-9 reprinted in Constantin V. Bo'un"� ed., The Dt/tUZt Reader, New York: Columbia Univenity Press, (1993. 2 below). Mil meJecaJ, trans. Jose Vazquez Perez and U. Larraceleta, Valencia: Textos, 1988. Mille pia"i: Gapitalismo t schizo/renia, trans. Giorgio Passcrone, Bibliotheca Biographia, 1987. Two volumes. Tausend Piateaus, trans. Gabriele Ricke and Ronald Voullie, Berlin: 1992.

1

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze 2

287

Also transJated into Portuguese, Japanese and Chinese.

'8 ans apres: Entretien 1980' by Catherine Clement in L'Arc 49: De/euze (revised edition) 1980, pp. 99-102. Japanese translation in Gendai shisiJ (RetJue de fa pensee aujourd'hui) 12: 1 1 , #9, 1984, pp. 3()-4.

3 with Fran�ois Chitelet: 'Pourquoi en etre arrive Ii?' (interview on the Universite de Paris�VIIINincennes by ]. P. Gene)

n i Li�ration 17 mars,

1980, p. 4.

4 with Francois Chatelet and Jean�Fran�ois Lyotard: 'Pour une commission d'enqUl he' (on Vincennes) in Li�ration 1 7 mars, 1980, p. 4. 5 "Mille plateaux' ne font pas une montagne, ils ouvrent mille chemins philosophiques' (interview by Christian Descamps, Didier Eribon and

Liberation 23 octobre, 1980. Reprinted in Pourparlers 3 below) as 'Sur Mz1k plateaux,' pp. 39-52.

Robert Maggiori) in 1972-1990 (I990.

In

Negotiations 1972-1990, trans. Martin Joughin, New York: Columbia 1 995. In Verhand/ungen (Pourparlen), trans. Gustav Rossler, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1992. University Press,

1981

Spinoza: Philosophie pratique, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1981. Expanded reprint of Spirroza (1970. 1 above). Texts added: chapter 01, 'Les Lettres

du mal', chapter V, 'Vevolution de Spinoza', and chapter VI, 'Spinoza et

(1978. 4 above). Spinoza: PracticalPhilosophy, trans. Roben Hurley, San Francisco: City Lights, 1988. Pages 17-29 reprinted in Constantin V. Boundas, ed., The Deleuze Reader, New York: Columbia University Press, 1993 (1993. 2 below). 'Spinoza and Us' reprinted in Zone 6: Incorporations, 1992, pp. 625-33. Spinoza: Filosofia pratica, trans. Antonio Escohotado, Barcelona: Tusquets, 1984. Spinoza: FiJosojia pratica, Milan: Guerini, 1991. Spinoza: Praktische PhiJosophie, trans. Hedwig Linden, Berlin: Merve, 1988. Espinoza e los Signol, Res., 1989. nous'

Also translated into Japanese.

2 Francis Bacon: Logique de fa Sensation, Paris: Editions de la Difference, 1981. Volume I contains Deleuze's text; volume II contains reproductions of Bacon's paintings. A second, 'augmented' edition of this boxed set, i incorporating more Bacon paintings, was published n text was not altered

1984, but Deleuze's

(1984. 2 below).

Extracts from chapters I, Ill, IV and VI of Deleuze's text published as 'Francis Bacon: The Logic of Sensation' in Flash Art 1 12, May 1983, pp.

8-16. Other sections translated under the title 'Interpretations of the Body:

A New Power of Laughter for the Living' n i Art

Imcl7lalional 8, autumn 1989, pp. 34-40. Chapters IV and VI uanslated in FigurabiJi Frat"is Bacol! [Catalog of the Venice Biennale), Milano: Electa, 1993, pp. 105-12. Pages

Timothy S. Murphy

288

27-3 1

It. The Ddeuze Reader. New York: Columbia University 1993. (I993. 2 below). Fran'u Bacon: The Logic oj Sensation, ttana. and

65-71

translated by Constantin V. Bounda! and Jacqueline

Code in Boundas, ed., Press,

Daniel W. Smith. to appear.

3 'La pcinture enflamme I'ecriturc' (intervic:w by Herve Guibert)

Monde, decc:mbrc: 3, 1981, p. 15. 'What counts is the: scream' in The Guardian, 1 0 January, 1982. 4 'A proPOSilO dc:I "Manfred" alia Scala (I ouobre 1980)' in Carmelo Oul/o, 0 la dtjicunza della donna, trans. Jean-Paul Manganaro. Feltrinc:lIi, 1981, pp. 7-9. Originally published as liner notes to the: Manfrtd-Carmelo Bene (Fonit Cetra). 1982 Preface to Antonio Negri, L 'AnomaJit sauvage: PuiJsanct tit POUtlO" "" .. Spinoza. trans. Fran�ois Mathernn, Paris: Presses Universitairc:s de: Fn 1982, pp. 9-- 1 2. 2 'Les Indiens de Palestine' (interview with Elias Sanbar) in Liberatj07l mai, 1982, pp. 20-1. 3 'Lcltre a Uno sur Ie langage', trans. Kuniichi Uno in Genda; sh;sd (La de la pensee aujourr/'hu;), Tokyo, Dec. 1982.

1 983

C;nema-J: L'lmage-mouwment. Paris: Editions de Minuit. 1983. Cinema 1: The Mowment-Image, U'ans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara berjam, London: Athlone and Minneapolis: University of Minnesota

1986.

Chapter four published as 'Image-Movement and Its Three

ieties: Second Commentary about Bergson' in

SubSrann 44/45, 1984, 81-95. Pages 12-18 reprinted in Constantin V. Boundas, ed., The Reader. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993 (l993. 2 below). La imagen-mOfJimiento: £Studios sobre cine I, trans. Irene Agoff, 0""",1••• Paid6s Comunicacion, 1984. L'lmmagine-nuwimento. Ubulibri, 1984. Kino I: Das Bewegungs-Bild, trans. Ulrich Christians and U1rike mann, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1989. Cinema 1: a imagem-motJi",ento, trans. by Stella Senra, Sao Paolo, Editora 8rasiliense, 1985. Also U'anslaled n i to Japanese.

2

'L'abstraction lyrique' n i

Cinema-i (l983. 1 3

Change International ], 1983,

p.

82.

Extract

above).

'Preface to the English Translation' of

Nietzsche and Philosophy, 1983, pp.

Hugh Tomlinson, New York: Columbia University Press,

(l962. 1

above).

4 'La Photographie est deja tirie dans les choses' (interview by Pascal xer and Jean Narboni) in

Cahiers du cinema 352. octobre 1983, pp.

.

15-4
Bibliography of th�

Works of Gi lles Deleu::e

289

Reprinted as 'Sur /'/magt-Mouvtmtnt' in Pourparltr! /972-1990 below), pp. 67-81 .

(1990. 3

In Ntgotiatiom 1972-1990, trans. Manin Joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. In verhandlungtn Suhrkamp, 1992.

(Pourparltn),

trans.

Gustav

Rossler,

Frankfurt:

5 'Cinema-}, pumihe' (interview by Serge Daney) and 'Le Philosophe menui­ siet' (interview by Didier Eribon) in Liberation 3 oclobu, 1983, pp. 30-1. In Gendai shisd (Rwu� dt la pemit aujourd'hul)

12: I I , #9, 1984, pp.

246-5 1 .

6 'poruait du philosophe en spectateur' (interview by Herve Guibert) in fA Mondt, octobre 6. 1983, pp. 1, 17.

7 'Godard et Rivette' in La Quimaint Littbairt 404, novembre I. 1983. pp.

6-7. Reprinted in revised form in Cinima-2 (1985. I below). 8 with Jean-Pierre Bamberger: 'Le pacifisme lujourd'hui' (interview by Claiu Pamet) in Les Nouvtlles 15-21 decembre, 1983. pp. 60-4. /984 'Preface: On the Four Poetic Formulas Which Might Summarize the Kantian

Phi l osophy' to Knm's Critical PhiJowphy: 17u Docm'ru 0/ Ure Facuitw, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam. London: Athlone and Minneapolis:

University ofMinnesota Press,

1984, pp. vii-xi ii. (1963. 1 above).

'Sur quam formules poetiques qui pourraient resumer la philosophie kan­ tienne' in Philosophit

9, 1986, pp. 29-34. Reprinted in revised form in

en'rique tt dinUtut (1993. 5

below).

In Deleuze, Autiomaa. Ki,joituksia f}lU}si/ta 1967-1986, edited by Keijo

Rahkonen and Jussi Vilimaa, Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992. 2 'Books' (on Francis Bacon), uans. Lisa Liebmann in An/orum, January 1984, pp. 68-9. Text related to Francis 8ocon: Lcgique de Ia sensation (1981. 2 above); included in the English uanslation a s a preface. 3 with Felix Guattari: 'Mai 68 n'a pas eu lieu' in Us NoufJtlltJ 3-10 mai 1984, pp. 75-6.

� 'Utue a Uno: Comment nous avons travaille a dew:,' uans. Kuniichi Uno in Gtndai shisd (La RtfJue ck /a ptnS�� aujourd'hU1/. Tokyo. 12: I I , #9, 1984,

PP. 8-1 1 . 5 ' Le Temps musical', trans Kuniichi Uno i n Gendai shUll (La RtfJue de la fJtnset aujourd'hui). Tokyo, 12: I I , #9, 1984, pp. 294-8. 6 'Grandcur de Yasser Arafat' in RtfJut d'ttudts Palestinunnes 10, hiver 1984, PP· 4 I-3. .

7

with Fran�ois Chitelet and Felix Gualtari: 'Pour un droit d'asile politique Un er indivisiblc' in fA Nouwl OburtJateur 1041, octobre 1984, p. 18.

1985

I Cinilna_2: L'lmagt-temps. Paris: Editions de Minuit,

1985 (1983. 7 above).

Timothy S. Murphy

290

Cinema 2: The Time-Image, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Robert Galete, London: Athlone and Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1989. Pages 18-24 reprinted in Constantin V. Boundas, ed., The De/euze Reade-, New York: Columbia University Press, 1993 (1993. 2 below). La imagen-tiempo: Esrudios sobre cine 2. trans. Irene Agoff, Barcelona: Paid6t Comunicadon, 1986. L'lmmagine-cempo, trans. L Rampello, Ubulibri, 1989. Kino 2: Das Zeit-Bi/d, trans. KJaus Englen, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp VerIac. 1991. Ci'lema 2: a tempo-movimenta, trans. Stella Senra, Sao Paolo: Editora liense. Selections in Deleuze, Au/iomaa. Kirjoituksia vuosllta 1967-1986, edited Keijo Rahkonen and jussi Villimaa, Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992. Also translated into japanese.

2 'Les plages d'immanence' n i Annie Cazenave and jean-Fran'Yois Ll'OU'n\ eds, L 'An des Confins: Melanges offert a Maun ce " de Gandillac, Paris:

Universitaires de France, 1985, pp. 79-81.

3 lmcrview by Antoine Dulaure and Claire Pamct in L 'Autre Journal octabre 1985, pp. 10-22. Reprinted as 'Les lntercesseurs' in ",u,,,,..,,,, 1972-1990 (1990. 3 below), pp. 165-84. 'Mediators' in Zone 6: Incorporations, 1992, pp. 281-94 and in N" " , ,, ... 1972-1990, trans. Martin joughin, New York: Columbia University

1995. Verhandlungen (Pourparlen), trans. Gustav Rossler, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1992.

In

4 'Le philosophe et Ie cinema' (interview by Gilbert Calbasso and F.bb,"" Revault d'Allonnes) in Cinema 334, dccembre 18-24, 1985, pp. 2-3. printed as 'Sur L'lmage-Temps' in Pourparlers 1972-1990 (1990. 3 pp 82-7 In Negotiations 1972-1990, trans. Martin joughin, New York: C"lum'" University Press, 1995. In Verhandlungen (Pourparien), trans. Gustav Rossler, Suhrkamp, 1992. 5 'II etait une Ctoile de groupe' (on Fran'Yois Chatelet) in Liberation dccembre, 1985, pp. 21-2. .

.

1986

Foucault, Paris: Editions de Minuit. 1986 (see 1970. 3 and 1975. 6 .bo,,'). Foucault, trans. Sean Hand. Foreword by Paul Bove, Minneapolis: U"j"" sity of Minnesota Press, 1988. Pages 124-32 reprinted in Constantin V. Boundas, ed., The De/euze Reader, New York: Columbia University 1993 (1993. 2 below). FOI/CQuh, trans. Jose Vasquez Perez (Castillian). Preface by Miguel Morey· Barcelona: Paid6s Studio, 1987. FOllcau/r, trans. Victor Compta (Catalan), Barcelona: Editions 62, 1987.

Bibliography oj the

Works

oj Gilles Deleuze

29'

Foucaull, trans. P. Rovatti and F. Sossi, Milan: Feluinelli, 1987. FOI/tauit, trans. Hermann Kocyba, Frankfun: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1987. FOI/caull, trans. Jose Carlos Rodrigues, Lisbon: Vega, 1987.

Foucau/I, uans. Claudia Sant'Anna Martins, Sao Paolo: Editora Brasiliense, 1988 .

Foucault, uans. Erik van der Heeg and Sven-Olov Wallenstein, Stockholm: Symposion, 1990. Selections in Deleuze, Autiomaa.

Kjrjoituksia vuosilta 1967-1986, edited by

Keijo Rahkonen and jussi Villimaa, Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 1992. Also translated intO japanese and Serbo-Croatian.

2 'Preface to the English Edition' of Cinema 1: Thl M01Kmlnl-lmage, trans.

Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, London: Athlone and Minnea­

polis: University of Minnesota Press, 1986, pp. ix-x (1983. 1 above). , 3 'Boulez, Proust et les temps: "Occuper sans compter" in Claude Samuel, ed., EdaulBoulez, Paris: Cenue Georges Pompidou, 1986, pp. 98-100.

4 'Optimisme, pessimisme et voyage: Lerue a Serge Daney', preface to Serge Daney, Cine JournDl, Paris: Cahien du cinema, 1986, pp. 5-13. Reprinted in Pourpariers 1971-1990 ( 1990. 3 below), pp. 97-1 1 2 . In NlgOliationJ 1971-/990, uans. Martin joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. In

Verhandlungtn

(Pourp<Jrim),

trans.

Gustav

Rossler,

Frankfun:

Suhrkamp, 1992.

5 'Le Plus grand film irlandais' (on Samuel Beckett's Film) in Revul d'Esrhe­

liqul 1986, pp. 381-2. Reprinted in revised form in Critiqut tt dinque i (1993. 5 below).

6 'le cerveau, c'est I'ecran' (interview by A. Bergala, Pascal Bonitzer, M. Chevrie, jean Narboni, C. Tesson and S . Toubiana) in Cahim du cinema 380, f evrier 1986, pp. 25-32.

7

'The Intellectual and Politics: Foucault and the Prison' (interview by Paul

Rabinow and Keith Gandal) in History ofthe Prestnt 2, spring 1986, pp. 1-2,

20-1. 8 'Sur Ie regime cristallin' in Hors Cadre 4, 1986, pp. 39-45. Reprinted as 'Domes sur I'imaginaire' in Pourparln-s 1972-1990 (1990. 3 below), pp. 88-96. In Ntgotiations 1972-1990, trans. Martin joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. In Verhalldlungtn (Pourparim),

trans. Gustav Rossler, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1992 . 9 'Fendre les choses, rendre les mots' (interview on Foucault by Robert Maggiori) n i Libera/ion 2 septembre. 1986, pp. 27-8. Reprinted in Pourpar­ krs 1971-1990 ( 1 990. 3 below), pp. 1 15-22. In Negotiations 1971-/990, trans. Martin joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. In Verhaltdlungtn (Pourp<Jrim), trans. Gustav Rossler, Frankfun: Suhrkamp. 1992.

292

Timothy S. Murphy

10 'Michel Foucault dans 1a troisi�me dimension' (interview by Roben Ma.. giori) in Libhation. scptembre 3, 1986, p. 38. Reprinted in Pourptlrkrs 1972-1990 (1990. 3 below), pp. 122-7. Conclusion of 1986. 9 above. In NegotiarionJ 1971-1990, trans. Martin Joughin, New York: Colurnbit Univcr1ily Press, 1995. In Verhandlungen (Pourparkn), trans. Gustav Rossler. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1992. I I 'La vie comme unc oeuvre d'.n' (interview on Foucault by Didier Eri. bon) in u NoutJei Obstl"tlateur 1 1 38, septcmhrc 4, 1986, pp. 66-8. Ez., tcnded version published in Pourporim 1972-1990 (1990. 3 below), pp. 129-38. In Negotiations 1972-1990, trans. Manin Jougbin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. 'Oas Leben als tin Kunstwerk', trans. Miklenitsh and M. Denken und Exiswrz bei Miehtl Foueauir, edited by Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1991, pp. 1 6 1-7. Also in J.I (Pourparlm). trans. Gustav Rossler, Frankfun: Suhrkamp, 1992.

W.

Wilh"� 'm l�.�:�::;

1987

'Preface to the English-Language Edition' and additional foomo[c Dialogues, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habbcrjam, Lc,ndoa: Athlonc and New York: Columbia University Press, 1987, pp. 1 5 1-2 (1977. 1 above). 2 with Hlix Guattari: 'Prcfazionc per J'cdizione italiana' of MiD, Capitalismo , schizojr,,,ia, mRS. Giorgio Passeronc, Rome: B;I,H"th"'l Biographica, 1987, pp. xi-xiv (1980. 1 above). 'Prologo a la cdici6n italians de Mill, Plauaux' in Archipiilago 1 7 1988 I.e PI;: Leb i m'z et I, Baroque,

Paris: Editions de Minuit. 1988. pp. 5-9 and 38-53 of the French text trans. Jonathan Strauss as Fold' in Yale French S,ruJi,s 80, 1991, pp. 227-47. The Fold: Leibniz and the BaroqlU, foreword and translation Conley, Minneapolis: Univer1iry of MinnesOla Press, 1993. EJ Plitgut: Ltibniz y tl baPTOCo, trans. jose Vazquez Perez and U,nb"'" Larraceleta, Bar<:clona: Paid6s. 1989. La Pfitga: Leibni:: e if barocco, trans. V. Gianolio, Turin: Einaudi, 1990. Also translated into japanese. 2 P�riclis et Verdi: LA philosophie de FranFois Chattlet. Paris: Editions Minuil, 1988. Pericles y Verdi, trans. Umbclina LarTaceleta and jose Vazquez Valencia: Pre.Texto5, 1989. PerikieJ und Verdi, by Thomas Lange, Passagen, 1989. Also translated into japanese.

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze

293

:} 'Foucault, historien du present' n i Magazin, Littira;,., 257, septem­ bre 1988, pp. 51-2. Reprinted in 'Qu'est-ce qu'un disposilif?' (1989. I below).

4

'Signes et evenemenu' (interview by Raymond Bellour and Fran�ois Ewald) in Magaz;"e Littera;,., 257, septembre 1988, pp. 1 6-25. Reprinted

as 'Sur la philosophie' in Pourparim 1972-1990 (1990. :) below), pp. 185-2 1 2 .

In Negotiations 1972-/990, trans. Maron Joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1 995. In

VerharuJlunge"

(Pourparlm).

trans.

Gustav

Rossler,

Frankfun:

Suhrkamp. 1992. i Chimeres 5/6, 1988, pp. 3-9. Reprinted in Le 5 'Un crite� pour Ie baroque' n 1'1'-: Leib'liz tt Ie Baroque ( 1988. I above; see also IV. 6 below).

6 'A Philosophical Concept . . .' in Tope; 7: 2, september 1988, pp. 1 1 1- 1 2 . Reprinted n i E . Cadava, ed., Who Comes After the Subjectt, trans. Julien Deleuze, New York: Routledge, 1 9 9 1 . 'Un concept philosophiquc' in

Cahen i Co"jrontatWn

20, hiver 1989, pp.

89-90. Translated by Rene Major after loss ofF�nch original.

7 'La pensee mise en plis' (interview by Roben Maggiori) in Liberation, septembre 22, 1988, pp.

I-In.

Reprinted as 'Sur Leibniz' in Pourparlm

1972-1990 (1990. 3 below), pp. 2 1 3-22.

In Negotiariom /972-/990, trans. Martin Joughin, New York: Columbia University Press, 1995. In

VerharuJlungen

(Pourparien).

mns.

Gustav

Rossler,

Frankfun:

Suhrkamp, 1992. In Aut Aut 254, March-June 1993, pp. J 25-31. 1989 'Qu'est-ce qu'un dispositif?' and ensuing discussion n i Michel Foucault philosophe, Rern:ont,., internationale Pan's 9, 10, 11 janvier 1988, Paris: Seuil. 1989, pp. 185-95 (1988. :) above).

'What is a dispositif?' in Michel Fou;:ault Philosopher, trans. Timothy J. Armstrong, New York: Routledge, 1992, pp. 159-68. 'Que es un dispositivo?' in Mil::hel Foucault filos% , trans. Alberto Bixio, Barcelona: Gedisa editorial, 1990.

2 'Preface to the English Edition' of Cinema 2: The Time-Image, trans. Hugh

Tomlinson and Robert Galeta, London: Athlone and Minneapolis: Univer­ sity of Minnesota Press, 1989, pp. xi-xii (1985. I above). J 'Postface: Bartieby, ou la formule' n i Herman Melville, Barrleby, Les II,s

ttlchamtes, Le Camparrile, trans. Michele Causse, Paris: Flammarion, 1989, pp. 1 7 1-208. Reprinted in revised form in Cn'tique et c/inique (1993. 5 below) .

Also translated into Italian and German. 4 'les trois cereles de Rivette' in Cahie,., du cinema 4 1 6 , f evrier 1989, pp. 18- 19.

Timothy S. Murphy

294

5 'Re*presentation de Masoch' in

Libbatjon

1 8 mai, 1989, p. 30. Rcprinted

in revised fonn in Critique et cliniqw (1993. 5 below).

6 'Gill� Deleuze craint I'engrenagc' (on statc*supported Islamic schoob France) in Liberation 26 aoGt, 1989.

7 'Lettre ' Reda BensmaTa' in

ill

Lendemains XIV: 53, 1989, p. 9. Rcprinted .. Pourparlen 1971-1990 ( 1 990. 3

'Lettre • Reda Bensmaia sur Spinoza' in

below), pp. 223-5. In

Negotiations

/972-1990, trans. Manin Joughin, Ncw York: Columbia

University Press, 1995. In

VerhandJungen

(Pourparien).

mns.

Gustav

Rossler.

Frankfwt:

Suhrkamp, 1992.

1990 'Le Devenir revolutionnaire et I� creations politiques' (interview by Toal

Furur antirieur I , printempts 1990, pp. 100-08. Reprinted ill Pourparlers 1972-1990 ( 1 990. 3 below), pp. 229-39. In Negotiations 1972-1990, trans. Manin joughin, New York: Columbil

Negri) in

University Press, 1995. In

Verhandlungen

(Pourparlen),

trans.

Suhrkamp, 1992.

Gustav

2 'Post*scriptum sur les societes de contr61e' in

L'autrr journal l, mai

Reprinted in Pourpariers 1972-1990 ( 1 990. 3 below), pp. 240-7. 'POStscript on the Societies of Control' in

in

Negotiatio,u

October 59,

I

1992, pp. 3-7.

1972-1990, trans. Manin joughin, New York: C,,'",mbla

University PreIS, 1995.

'Das electronische Halsband: Innenansicht der Kontrollienen G,,,"',,'of�

in New Rundschau vol. 1 0 1 , no. 3, 1990, pp. 5-10, trans. Max Looser.

in 3

VerhandJungen

(Pourparlen),

trans.

Gustav

Suhrkamp, 1992.

Pourparlen 1972-1990, Paris: Editions de Minuit,

Rossler,

1990. This bo"k "o" "'�

the following interviews cited n i this bibliography: 1972. 6, 1973. 7, I

4, 1980. 5, 1983. 4, 1985. 3, 1985. 4, 1986. 4, 1986. 8, 1986. 9, 1986. 1986. 1 1 , 1988. 4, 1988. 7, 1989.7, 1990. I and 1990. 2.

Negotiations

1972-1990, trans. Martin joughin, New York:

University Press, 1995.

Verhandlungm (Pourparlen), 1992.

Het dnrlt.en in piooien geschi/u

trans. Gustav Rossler, Frankfurt: (selections!, trans. Monique Scheepers,

Agora, 1992.

Also translated into Spanish, japanese and Portuguese. 4 Letter cited in the translator's introduction to Deleuze, Expressionism in

ophy: Spinoza, trans. Martinjoughin, New York: Zone Books,

1990, p. I I .

5 'Les Conditions de la question: qu'est*ce que la philosophic?' in 8, mai 1990, pp. 123-32. Reprinted in revised fonn in

philosoph�? (1991.

6 bclow; sec also IV. 6 below).

Ch;',";'Qu 'e,StooCe que

Bibliography of lh� Works of Gilles

Deleuze

295

'Th� Conditions of the Question: What Is Philosophy?' trans. Daniel W. 17: 3, Spring 1991, pp. 471-8. Smith and Arnold I. Davidson in Cntical Inquiry

6 'Lettre.prHace' to Mireille Buydens. Sahara: l'e.sthen·que de Gilits De/euze, PariS: Vrin, 1990, p. 5.

7 with Pierre Bourdieu, jh6me Lindon and Pierre Vidal-Naquet: 'Adresse au gouvemement fran�ais' (on Operation Desert Shield) in Liberation 5 sep-­ lcmbre, 1990. p. 6. 8 'Avoir une id�e en cinema: A propos du cinema des Suau\).Huiliet', uan­ scribed and presented by Charles Tesson injean·Marie Straub and Daniele

Huillet, HDideriin, Cezamte, Udignan: Editions Antigone,

1990, pp. 65-77.

This is an exuact from the conference given to the srudents of FEMIS and broadcast in the: series OdaniqUlS (UI. I below).

1991

'A Return to Bergson', afterword to Bergsonism, trans. Hugh Tomlinson

and Barbara Habberjam, London: Athlone and New York: Zone,

1991, pp.

1 15-18 (1966. 1 above). i and Subjecn'viry: An 2 'Prdace to the English-language Edition' of Empiricsm ESJay on Hume's Theory oj Human Nature, trans. Constantin V. Boundas, New York: Columbia University Press,

1991, pp. ix-x (1953. 2 above).

3 'Preface' to Eric Allie:z. Les Temps capitaux lOme I: RtcilJ de la conquite du

temps, Paris: Editions du Cerr. 1991, pp. 7-9. 4 'Pre:fazione: Una nuova stilistica', trans. Giorgio Passerone, to Giorgio Passerone, [.a Linea astratla: Pragmatica delio $tilt, Milano: Edizioni Angelo

1991, pp. 9-13. 5 with Rene Scherer: 'La guerre immonde' (on the Persian Gulf War) in Liberation 4 mars 1991, p. I I . In £1 Mundo, February 24, 1991. 6 with Felix Guanari: Qu'tJt-ce que 10 phiJosophie? Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1991 (see also 1990. 5 above). Pages 106-8 reprinted as 'Peguy, Nietzsche, i Amitie Charles Peguy: Bullttin d'injorman'ons et de recherches 15: Foucault' n 57, janvier-mars 1992, pp. 53-5. Guerini,

Whar is Philosophy?, uans. Hugh Tomlinson and Graham Burchell, New York: Columbia University Press, 1994. Spanish uanslation: Qtd es la jilosofia? trans. Thomas Kauf. Ba«:elona: Editorial Anagrama, 1993. o que

t a jilosojia?

trans. Margarida Barahona and Ant6nio Guerreiro,

Usbon: Editorial Presen�a,

1992.

O que e a ftlosofta?, Rio de Janeiro: Editora 34, 1992. Mif4jilosojia on?, Helsinki: OY Gaudeamus, 1993. Was i1l Phi/osophie?, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.

Also translated n i to Italian, japanese, Arabic and Turkish. 7 with FC:lix Guanari: 'Secret de fabrication: Deleuz.c:-Guattari: Nous Deux' (interview by Robert Maggiori) in Liberation

12 scptembre, 1991, pp. 17-19.

296

Timothy S. Murphy

8 with Felix Guanari: 'Nolls avons invente la rilornellt' (interview by Didier Eribon) in LA NOUfJtl ObSt11JQltwr 12-18 septembrc 1 9 9 1 , pp. 109-10.

1992

Revised version of 'Mystere d'Ariane' 1992, pp. 20-4 (1963. 2 above).

n i

Magazine Lillirairt

298, avril

2 'Remarques' in response to essays on Deleuze and Jacques Derrida by Eric Allic:z and Francis Wolff in Barbara Cassin, ed.,

NOJ Grees It leurs modernu: us Smuigits comtmporaints d'appropria/ion de l'Amiquui, Paris: Seuil, 1992, pp. 249-50. Reprinted in revised form in CriliqUt II ciiniqut ( 1 993. 5 below).

3 with Samuel Beckett:

Quad It DUlTt pieces pour fa leimsion, swivi de L 'Epuui,

Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1992. Contains four pieces by Beckett and 'L'EpuisC' by Deleuzc:, pp. 55- 1 1 2 . 'The ExhauSted', trans. Anthony Uhlmann, SubSrance vol. 24, no. 3 , 1995,

pp. 3-28.

Also translated intO German, Italian and japanese.

1993

Letter on Michel Foucault, trans. james Miller, cited in james Miller,

2

TIw Passion ofMichd Foucaulr, New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993, p. 298. The Deleuze Reader, edited with an introduction by Constantin V. Boundas, New York: Columbia University Press, 1993. This volume consists entirely

of previously published textS, though some appear in English for the tint time. 3 'Pour Felix' (on Guattari) in (IV. 6 below).

Chimerts

18, hiver 1992-1993, pp. 209-10

'Para Felix,' trans. jordi Terre in Archipieiago 17, 1994. 4 'Lenre-preface' to Jean-C1et Martin, 5

Van'ariens: La Philosophie de GillIS Deleuze, Paris: Editions PayO[, 1993. pp. 7-9. Critique et clinique, Paris: Editions de Minuit. 1993. This book collects the following essays cited in this bibliography: 1970. 2, 1978. 3, 1984. I , 1986. 5, 1989. 3, 1989. 5, 1992. I

(see also 1963. 2 above) and 1992. 2.

'Begaya-t-il . . . ' trans. Constantin V. Boundas as 'He stuttered' in Con­ stantin V. Boundas and Dorothea Olkowski, eds,

Thealtroj Philosophy, New York:

Oille$ Deleuze alld the

Routledge, 1994, pp. 23-9. All have been

revised for this collection. Translation by Daniel W. Smith and Michael A. Greco forthcoming from the University of Minnesota Press. Also translated intO German, Spanish, Japanese, Italian and Portuguese.

1994

'Preface to the English Edition' of

Difference and Repetition,

trans. Paul

Patton, London: Athlone and New York; Columbia University Press, 1994,

pp. xv-xvii (1968. 1 above).

Bibliography of the Works of Gilles Deleuze

297

2 'Sept deuins' (drawings) in ChimereJ 2 1 , hiver 1994, pp. 13-20. Reprinting of five drawings from 1973. 1 3 above, with twO additional drawings (the untitled drawing on p. 19 and 'Chambre de malade.· p. 20)

(IV.

6 below).

3 with Ferdinand Alquie, Louis Guillermit and Alain Vinson: 'La chose en soi chez Kant' in uttrtS Philosophiquts 7, 1994, pp. 30-46. Set ofletters written

by Deleuze, A1quie and Guillermit to Vinson in 1964; a facsimile of De­ leuze's letter is on p. 36; the lener is printed on pp. 37-8.

ne litt�raire 4 'Desir et plaisir' (on Foucault's La Voiond de sawir) in Magazi 325, octobre 1994, pp. 59-65. This text, a series of notes indirectly ad­ dressed to Foucault, was written in 1977.

1995 'L'immanence: une vie . . .', Philosophie, no. 47, septembre I, pp. 3-7. 2 'Le "Je me lOuviens" de Gilles Deleuze', extracts from an interview with Didier Eribon, u Nouwl Observateur, no. 1619, novembre 16-22, 1995,

pp. 50-1.

3 'Fragment d'un texte inedit', Cahi en du Cinema, no. 497, decembre 1995, p. 28.

1996 'L'Actuel et Ie virtuel', parts one and two, included

as

an appendix to the

second edition of De1euze and Parnet, Dialopes, Paris: Flammarion, 1996, pp. 177-85. See also 1977. I above.

II

AUDIO RECORDINGS OF DELEUZE

Discussion 'Le grand rationnalisme: Atheisme de Spinoza', originally broadcast 1 0 Dec. 1960 in the series 'Analyse spectrale de l'Occident'. Duration 23: 30. Produced by Serge Jouhet. 2 Discussion 'Douleur et souffrance', originally broadcast 3 Apri l 1963 in the series 'Recherche de notre temps'. Duration 40: 00.

3 Interview by Jean Ristat on Louis Wolfson and u Schizo et

Its lanpes

(Gallimard, 1970), originally broadcast 2 July 1970 on France Culture in

the series 'Les idees et \'histoire'. Duration 1 3 : 00.

4 with Helene Cixous: Discussion 'litterasophie et philosofimre' recorded 7

June 1973 at Vincennes and first broadcast I I Sepl. 19730n France Culture in the series 'Dialogues.' Duration 75: 00. Producer Roger Pillaudin.

5 Reading ofthe NietzSche text 'Le voyageur' (aphorism 638 in Menschlithu, Allzumenschliches) on the track 'Ouais Marchais, mieux qu'en 68 (ex: Le voyagcur)' (duration 4: 22). Released on the album Electronique Guerilla by the progressive rock group He1don with Riehard Pinhas, Paris: Disques Disjuncta, 1974. Re-issued n i 1993 by Cuneifonn Records, Silver Spring, MD.

Timothy S. Murphy

298

6 Presentation 'Avcz-vous lu Baruch? ou Ie ponrait presume de Spinou', recorded Dec. 1977 and first broadcast 4 March 1978 in the serie. 'Samedis de France: Culture'.

Duration

12:

50.

Producer Michele

Cohen.

7 Presentation 'Freud c[ 18 psychanaly!c', recorded 7 April 1978 and fint broadcast 8 April 1978 on France Culture in the series 'Mi-fugue Mi raisin', Duration 5: 00.

B Electronically diSlOned vocals, possibly a reading of or commentary on Spinoza's

Ethics,

on the tracks 'L'Ethique

)' (duration 6: 2 1 ) and

'L'Ethique 3' (duration 4: 48), Released on the album

L 'Elhique by

Richard Pinhas, Paris: Pulse, 1981. Re-issued in 1992 by Cuneiform Records, Silver Spring,

MD.

9 Electronically distoned vocals, possibly a reading of or commentary on Spinan's Ethics, on the tracks 'Livre 5: L'Ethique' (duration 8: 39) and

'1992: Iceland: The Fall' (duration 4 : 37). Released on the double album

RhizospheruLiw at Babino: Pam, France Spring,

1 982 by Richard Pinhas, Silver

MD: Cuneiform Records, 1994. The Rhizosphere part of the

album contains liner notes by Deleuze and Guattari: a citation of Rhizomt, 1976. 1 above, p. 35; 1980. 1 above, p. 19, and a citation of Diffmnce a

ripililion

1968. I, p. 16.

10 Seminar: 'Michel Foucault: Savoir. Pouvoir, Subjectivation', held at the Univenite de Paris VIU-Vincennes III St. Denis from 29 Oct. 1985 to 2 1

Jan. 1986 (34 cassettes). These casseues are in the holdings o f the Centre

Michel Foucault (43 bis, rue de la Glaciere, 75013 Paris) and cannot be duplicated.

1II

VIDEO RECORDINGS OF DELEUZE

QI.! 'ut-ce que I'acu de crearion?, conference presented n i the

series 'Mardis

de la Fondation' on 1 7 March 1987, 50 minutes, color. Produced by la

Fondation Europeene des Metiers de I'Image et du Son (FEMIS) and ARTS: Cahiers multi-media du Ministere de la Culture et de la Com­ munication, and broadcast in the television series

hommu, des a'uvres.

Re-broadcast in 1989.

Octlaniquu: des ;diu, dn

Partial transcript published as 'Avoir une idee en cinema: A propos du cinema des Straub-Huillet', in Jean-Marie Straub and Daniele HuiDet, HlJlderlin, C�zanne, Udignan: Editions Antigone, 1990, pp. 65-71 (1990.8 above).

2 'L'AbecCdaire de Gilles Deleuze', discussions shown on the fortnightly ans program MetropOlis on the Franco-German Arte channel beginning 1 5 Jan. 1995. Programmes co-ordinated by Pierre-Andre Boutang. Discus­

sions filmed in 1988 by Claire Parnel. Individual episodes: 'A corome

(devenir-) animal', 'B comme boisson', 'C comme culture', '0 comme desir', 'E comme enfance', 'F comme fidelite', 'G comme gauche', 'H

Bibliography of the Works of Gilks Deleuze

299

commt: h istorrt: dt: la philosophit:', 'I commt: idc:t:', . . . 'Q comme qucs. . {Ion , etc.

IV

PUBUCATIONS EDITED OR DIRECTED BY DELEUZE

1 butincu et institutions, Paris: Hacht:ttt:, 1953.

2 Memoin el VU: IUles choisu by Ht:nri Bt:rgson, Paris: Prt:sses Univt:rsitaires de France, 1957.

3 Membt:r of lhe Comite de direction for RttJue t:k Metaphysique el de Morole from lhe janvier-mars 1965 issue to lhe janvier-mars 1975

issue. 4 Cahiers de Royaumont: Philosophie # VI: Nietzsche, Paris: Editions de Min­ uit, 1967 (see 1967.1 above). 5 wilh Michel Foucault, later wilh Maurice de Gandillac: Friedrich Nietz­ sche, Oeuwes philosophiques comp!ew, Paris: Gallimard, I 977-prescnt. Eighteen volumes to date:

1. Vol. I : La Nausance de fa rragidie et Fragmenu posthumes (1869-1872) 1. Vol. 2 :

Emu poszhumes (1870-1873)

II. Vol. I : Considerations inoctueUes I el ll; Fragmenu posthumes (iti 1872-

hiwr 1873-1874)

11. Vol. 2 : Considerations inoctuelles

1874 prinumps 1876)

III tl IV; Fragmrnu posthumes (dibUl

111. Vol. I : HlI.main, trop humain; FragmenlS poslhumes (1876-1878) lIl. Vol. 2: Hu.moin, trop hll.main; Fragments poslhumes (1878-1879) IV. Auron; Fragments posthumes (1879-1881)

V. I.e goi savoir; Fragmems posthumes (1881-1882) (see 1967.5 obctJt)

VI. Ainsi parlait ZarathOUSlra

VII. Par-thld bun et mal; La Ginialogie de 10 morale VIII. Vol. I : Ln COJ Wag71er; Cripuscule des idoitsi L'Antechristi &cehomo;

Nietzsche contre Wagner

VIII. Vol. 2: DithyrambeJ

de

Dionysos; Poimes et fragmrnts poitiques pos­

Ihllmes (1881-1888)

X. Fragments poSlhumeJ (prinumps-outomne 1884) XI. Fragmenu posthumes (olltomne 1884-alltomne 1885)

XU. Fragments posthumes (automne 1885-outomne 1887) XlII. Vol. 2: Fragments posthumes (automne J887-mars 1888) XIV. Vol.

1889)

I:

Fragments posthumts (debut janvier 1888-debut janvier

6 with Felix Guanari: Chimeres, Gourdon: Editions Dominique Bedou, 1987-89; Paris: Editions de la Passion, 1990-present. Quarterly, spring 1987 to the present; twenty-four issues lhrough winter 1995. De1euze

lisled as co-director of lhe publication from issue #2 (etC: 1 987) to issue # 1 7 (automne 1992); thereafter Deleuze and Guattari listed as 'fonda­

leurs' (see 1988.5, 1990.5, 1993.3 and 1994.2 above).

300

Timothy S. Murphy

This bibliography would not have reached its prellcnt level of precision

had I been forced to do all aCthe work myself. I would like to thank JerOme Lindon of Les Editions de Minuit. Fran�oiS(: Laye of Presses Univer_

sitaires de France and Juliette Jost of Flammanon for providing much of the infonnation on translations. I would also like to thank all those who helped me by providing obscure references. photocopies or recordings:

Constantin V. Boundas, Fergus Daly. Martin joughin. Jukka Laari, Gior­ gio Passcrone, MoniquC' Seheeper.;, Daniel W. Smith, Jordi Terri, Katherine Waugh, Andy Zax, Fran�ois Zourabichvili and the inter­ Library Loan staff at the

veu

Univeniry Research Library. I would

especially like to thank Gilles Oeleuze for his comments, encourngcment and approval. An earlier version of this bibliography was published in PLl: WarwicA: Journal 0/ Philosophy 4: 1/2, 1992, Dtltuzt alld tht TrallJctlldelltal Ulleon­ scu)Us, pp. 237-58. I thank PLI and its editor, Joan Broadhurst, for pennission to reprint and update this version.

Index

abbreviation, 134-5

primacy of, 2 1 8

abstraction, 43, 133, 227

significance of, 221

absurd, power of, 62

Spinoza on, 143, 154-6, 222,

activity and habit. 132 and joyful passions, 152-3, 155 of the past, 223-4 and shame, 206

su

abo becoming-active

actualization of Idea and colour, 36

225, 226, 227, 229, 231 Toumier on, 171-6 affinnation of chance, 63, 69, 77 and negation, 1 18-19, 146, 159 n and quality of the will, 1 5 SpinoD on, 146, 1 5 9 n agnosia, 232

of ideas. 58-9, 61-2

alienation, 1 4 1 , 156

of the vinual, 69, 8H, 89, 91-2,

animals, 122-9, 134, 203, 205,

208. 224-5, 228, 235-6 address, 68, 69, 77 advertising, 244, 252 aesthetic value, 8, 245, 251-2 aesthetics

207-8, 261-2 habit of, 130-5 anomalous, 120, 1 2 1 , 127-9, 130 anthropology, 142 anthropomorphism, 1 9 1

dualism of. 29, 48-9

anti-humanism, 139, 140

presupposition of recognition, 3 1

anti-juridical thought, 164-5

affect, 26, 191, 194, 205, 207, 214 n

aphasia, 232

and the anomalous, 128 and art, 4, 5

apprenticeship, 9, 77-8

autonomy of, 2 1 7-36

ArislOtle, 66, 86, 132

definition of, 237 n

and emotions, 221, 237 n

Ariadne, 1 1 1 arousal, 2 1 8 art, 257-8

ethology, 126-7, 1 3 1 , 167-70

and intensity, 40-1, 42, 43-4,

and language, 179, 180

and life, 201-3

and habit, 132

45-9, 5 1 n

Index

302 art

becoming-animal, 124-9, 203,205,

(Cont'd)

and philosophy. 4, 5, 14, 39-41

207-8, 261-2

postmodcm, 51 n

becoming-child, 203, 210-12

theory of, 29

becoming God, 129

and theory of scnsation, 4, 5,

becoming-imperceptible, 200

39-49, 258-68

see also cinema; literature; music; painting; poetry

becoming-woman, 174-5 being, 69, 74, 1 1 2- 1 3 articulations of, 87

Anaud, Antonin, 50 n, 105 n, 142

and eternal return, 102

artiSts, 192

ethological perspective, 167

Attali, Jacques, 251

and expression, 148

Al4fhebung,

Hegel on, 122, 125, 134-5

115

authenticity, lOO

Heidegger on, 90

autonomic reaction, 218. 219,

and instance of the question, 63

225

rigidity of, 134-5

axiomatic varieties, 60, 61

Spinoza on, 165-6

axiomatization. 241

and thought, 23

Ayler, Albert, 108

being of sensation, 47, 49 being of the sensible, 30-9, 49, 190

Bachciard, Gaston, 98-9

being-there, 122, 123

Bacon, Francis, 40, 142,257, 258,

being-together, 125

2.7 figure, 4 1-2, 44-5, 46-7, 260, 261-4 signs, 32 triptych, 46-7, 263-4, 265 Barthelcmy-Madaulc, Madeleine, 81, 9 1

Benjamin, Walter, 235, 238 n, 249, 250, 253 Bergson, Henri, 2, 108,

I I I , 150,

22. colour, 35-6 duration, 81, 83, 92-103, 195 events, 1 2

Bataille, Georges, 19, 22. 253

ideas, 1 1, 39

Baudelaire, Charles Pierre, 2, 240,

ontology of the virtual, 81-103,

241, 245-7, 249-54 buuty, 8 becoming, 2, 4, 74, 8 1 , 82, 19 1-2, 213 n

224-5 past, 93-4, 99-101, 102, 2 1 4 perception, 38, 5 4 n binary machines, 1 5 1-2

and active sense of shame, 206

biological individuation, 64

oCthe animal, 122-9, 134

biology, 162-4, 169, 177

in Bacon's paintings, 261, 263

Blanchot, Maurice,

blocks of, 120, 125, 126

bodies

I, 28, 108, 202

and eternal return, 102

and affect, 225

Hegel on, 1 2 1-2, 129-30, 133-4

assemblages of, 176-9

and landscape, 196

cartography of, 168-7 1, 174,

and metaphor, 194, 196 potential infinity of, 129-30 becoming-active, 198, 205, 209-10, 225

178-9 and cognition, 223 ethological, 2, 126-7, 167-8, 174, 177, 178-9

Index

303

and e...ents, 12, 13, 14, 1 5

children, 203-4, 2 1 0-12, 2 1 7-22

and language, 179-83

cinema, 5, 27-8, 40, 54 n. 1 10, 198

and mind, 163, 165-6, 198,225

and Bergson, 81

and movemeOl, 84

colour in. 46

and music, 265

and expressionism, 141

in paintings, 44-7, 261-3 and scxual difference, 162-4

and soul, 154, 1 6 1 n

and forces. 266-8 clear and distinct, principle of. 38-9 cliches, 32. 198, 199,208

Spinoza on, 2, 126, 165-7, 225

co-cxistence, 93, 1 0 1

territorialization of, 241-2

cognition, 2 1 7 , 223

and time, 54 n

Cohen, Hennann, 36, 37, 39

...irtuality of, 224

colour, 21-2

body language, 232

Bergson on, 3s-6

Bogue, Ronald, · 5

Goethe on, 46, 52-3 n, 55 n

Bolshevism, 214-15 n

Kant on, 53 n

borders, 128, 129

Newton on, 46, 52 n, 55 n

Boulez, Pierre, 41

in painting, 45-6, 264

Boundas, Constantin, 2, 1 1

commands, 179-83

Bourbakian mathematics, 58, 78 n

common sense, 8, 10-11, 30-4, 38,

Bourgeois, Christian, 57

39, 48

Braidotti, Rosi, 185 n

complexity, 226

Bresson, Robert, 267

concepts, 1 , 2, 3, 4-5, 6 , 9 , 110,

Broch, Hennann, 4 1 Buchner, Georg, 209-10 Buck-Morss, Susan, 238 n

145-6

and art, 40

and events, 4, 12-15

Butler, Judith, 1 63-4

as fragmentary whole, 26

Cage, John, 4 1

and n i finitesimal calculus, 70, 79 n

calculus. 58. 64, 70-5, 76

and object, 36

and Idea, 102-3

capitalism, 241, 242, 243-4. 245, 247. 250, 251-2,253 Carnot, ware N. M., 64 Carroll, Lewis, 19, 194 cartography, 168-7 1, 174, 178-9

and problems, 159 n and schema, 66 as transformers, 240-1 conceptual personae, 1 1 6- 1 7

conjuncti...e synthesis sel resonance

causality, I I , 14, 147, 160 n

connective synthesis see vibration

Cezanne, Paul, 4 1 , 42, 44, 45-6,

consciousness

castration. 124

258-61, 264, 267

conscious reflection, 225

and autonomic reactions. 219

chance, 63, 69, 77

and duration, 94, 96, 1 0 1

change, 95. 132, 133

and the past, 100

chaos, 1 10. 1 12-13, 226

and phenomenology, 84. 1 0 1

Character, 207, 208

and representation, 64, 65-6, 89

characteristic ...arieties, 60

Spinoza on, 140

Chatelet, Gilles, 78 n

as subtractive, 223

Chekho.... Anton, 196, 200

conservation, 201

Index

304 Constructivism, 2 1 4 - 1 5 n contemplation, 131, 132, 197 contemporaneity, 93, 94, 1 0 1 continuum, 58, 70, 72, 82, 84, 99 contraction, 83, 95, 96 and habit, 1 3 1 , 132-3 comradictions , 9 , 1 1 8 convention, 32, 50 n copulation, 1 2 2-3, 134

creation, 5, 98, 198. 201-3, 210, 2 1 t crystal, 208 culture, 59, 60, 77, 231-2 De Sica, Vittorio, 198 death, 123, 124, 134, 204, 205-6 of God, 22-5, 26 death instinct. 156, 247 decoding, 240-5, 246-52 deconstruction, 3

Set also Derrida Defoe, Daniel, 1 7 1-2 deformation, 43, 44 Deleuze, Gilles

Anti�Oedipus, 1 , 2, 156, 209, 240, 241, 242, 243, 254, 260

Le Bergsonisme, 8 1 Cinema, 40, 266 Coldness and Cruelty, 156 La Conception de 10 difference chez Bergson, 8 1 Critique el clinique, 40, 188, 200, 203, 2 1 1

Dialogues, 8 1 , 257 Difference and Repetition, 3, 6-7,

Henri Bergson, M�moire el vie, 8 1 L'ldee de gencse dans I'esthbique de Kanl, 8 Kafka, I Kant's en"tical Philosophy, 8 Logic o/ Sense, 13, 14, 1 8 1 , 194, 204

Mcroemem Image, 18, 8 1 Nietzsche and Philosophy, 3, 6 , 7, 1 1 5 , 1 1 7 , 1 1 8 , 2 0 1 , 206

Les Philosophes cetebres, 8 1 PrOIl$( and Signs, 6, 3 1 Rhizome, 59-60 Spinoza: Practical Philosophy, 147, 263

Thousand Plateaus, 1 , 2 , 4, 13, 8 1 , 1 1 4, 1 1 5 , 120, 1 2 1 , 123-30, 136, 168,257,265

Time-Image, 25, 8 1 What is Philosophy?, I , 4 , 5, 6 , 9, 12, 13, 26, 40, l i S, 1 16, 159 n, 188, 240 delirium, 204 democracy, 2 1 5 n Derrida, Jacques, 4, 90, 108, 2 1 4 n, 230 Descanes, Rene, S, 1 10, 1 1 2, 140, 141 clear and distinct principle, 38 conceptual personae, 1 1 6 doubt, 23 pluralit)' of substances, 149 rationalism, 157 n thought, 6, 7

8 , 9 , I I , 12, 24,32, 57, 59, 64,

desexualization, 247-8

65, 66, 73, 77, 8 1 , 90- 1, 1 1 5,

desire, 166, 244, 245

1 1 8, 1 3 1-2, 1 8 1

Expnmionism in Philo!Ophy: Spinoza, 3, 5, 139, 141, 147, 148, 149

The Fold, 12 Foucault, 266 FmocU Bacon: Logique de la

SetlSIUUm, 40, 41, 46, 257, 258,

260

becoming-child, 203 death, 204 figural in painting, 260 Heidegger on, 50 n joyful passions, 153, 156 destination, structure of, 67-70, 76 determinability, 37-8 determination, 37-8, 58-9, 61-2, 71

305

Index deterrilorialization, 2, 9, 13, 14, 241-2, 265, 267

Douglass, Paul, 82 dualisms, 60, 95, 163-6, 170, 1 7 1

dialectical images, 235, 238 n

Duns Scotus, 3, 87, 150, 160 n

dialectical inversion, 1 19

Duras, Marguerite, 267, 268

dialectics, 3, 99, 1 1 5

duration, 8 1 , 83, 92-103, 195

and difference, 1 18

Dworkin, A., 1 8 1

and Idea, 6 1 , 62, 68, 70 dialogue, 68

economics, 162, 164, 171-5

diastolic forces, 259, 261, 263, 264

education, 202, 205

difference in an, 48

effectuation, 1 10-11 Einstein, Albert, 97

of degree, 86, 87, 91, 95

elan vital, 9 1

and Hegelian unity, 1 18

elitism, 2 1 5 n

in intensity, 9, 36-8, 39

emergence, 226-8

internal, 195, 2 1 4 n

emotions, 217, 219, 220, 221, 228,

of narure, 86, 87, 95 and repetition, 90-8, 101, 102-3, 115

237 n empiricism, 32, 5 1 n, 226, 227 energy, 97

sexual, 162-3, 170-1, 176-9, 1 8 1

enigma, power of, 62

and Spinoza, 149-51, 160 n

enunciability, 266

sublation of, 1 1 5

see

also individuality

differenciation, 6 1 , 66, 82, 91-2, 95, 96 in mathematics, 7 1 , 73, 75

epistemology, 67, 142 erotic charge, 241-2 error, 6, 32, 55 essence, 46, 94, 1 50, 170 eternal return, 100, 1 0 1 , 102-3, 199

different/ciation, 82, 83, 90-1, 1 0 1

eternity, 161 n

differential calculus, 64, 7 3 , 7 6

ethics, 14-15, 126, 147, 208-10,

differential relations, 35-9, 46, 49, 52 n, 59, 60 differentiation, 3, 6 1 , 73, 9 1 , 92

23! ethology, 2, 126-7, 1 3 1 , 167-70, 174, 177

of images, 27

and language, 80, 183

of transcendental objects, 9-10

and politics, 185 n

digression, 227-36

and sexual difference, 178-9

dilation, 83, 95, 96

evaluation, 189-94, 208

discourse, 231, 245-6

events, 4, I I. 12-15, 17 n, 69, 77,

disease, 207, 208 disjunctive synthesis, 46-7, 55-6 n, 196, 200,203, 208, 209, 263

220-1 everlasting present, objection of, 98, 99-102

dislocation, 1 1 3

evolution of the living, 9 1

disparatization, line of, 2 1 , 25, 27 dissension, 33 dissimulation, 19

exception, 120-1, 124, 127, 128-9,

distribution, thought of, 108, 109,

existence, 96-7, 1 9 1

113 dh·ersity , 3 8

130, 1 3 1 , 135 exercise, 131, 132 and judgement. 209 modes of, 187 n

Index

306 expectation, 219, 220 experience. 7. 29, 49, 88, 197-8. 22.

forced movement In disjunctive synthesis

foraettina, 38, 53-4 n, 94

experimentation. 47, 49

form-maner relation, 43

aprcssion, 202, 228

Foucault, Michel, 139

Ind causality, 147, 160 n

death of God, 22, 24, 25

logic of, 146-7, 1 5 1

eye of the outside, 19-20

path of, 147

knowledge, 162-3, 164, 266

problem of, 145-6

possibility of thought, 27

sources of, 5 Spinoza on, 3, 141-9, 156-7, 158 n cxprcssion-cvent, 220-1, 225 expressionism. 43, 45, 141-2 extension. 36, 38, 8), 86, 89, 95, 96-7, 103

sexuality, 162-3, 170-1 free will, 223 freedom, 5 1 n, 1 1 3, 152, 154, 166, 22. Freud, Sigmund, 245, 252 anatomy as destiny, 177 desire, 244

extcriority. 36, 95, 194-200

feminine position, 176

eye aCthe outside. 19-24

libido, 1 56, 244, 252

r.ciality, 2, 23

passive ego, 37

factuality, 217-18, 2 1 9

pleasure and repetition, 247

faculties, 7-9, 1 0 - 1 1 , 30, 3 1 , 33,

polymorphous pcrvcnity, 241

Little Hans srudy, 203, 204

34, 197, 2 1 4 n

sado-masochism, 156

family, 123, 130

unconscious, 124

Faulkner, William, 200

wolf pack analysi., 114, 1 17, 120,

feed-back, 220, 223, 227-36 Fcllini. Federico, 200 feminism, 163, 174, 177-8 Fenichcl, Otto, 2 5 1 Fic.htc, Jobann Gottlieb, 38, 7 1

1 2 1 , 123, 127, 130 function of the human being, 162-4 in nonstandard anal}'1is, 7 1 future, 93, 99, 100, 101, 102, 224

figural, 41-7, 259-60, 261--4 figuration, 41-3, 44

Gadamer, Hans-Gcora, 69

figurative moment, 3 1

Gasquet, Joachim, 258

film Jet cinema

Gaten., Moira, 2

finalism. 98

genesis, 37-8, 39, 77, 108-9

finite/infinite couple, 64, 65-6, 70,

genus, process of, 122-3, 124, 125,

72-3 finite modes, theory of, 142, 149, 152-7

1 26, 132, 133-4 genninal fonnl, 227-8 Giroux, Laurent, 98, 99

Fitzgerald, F. Scon, 204

glory, 207

Flaubert, Gustave, 206

God

force aesthuici of, 45--7, 257-68 concept of, 1 9 1 , 192, 195, 196, 207, 2 1 1 , 2 1 4 n

becoming, 129 concept of, 4 death of, 22-5, 26 and expression, 5

Index love towards, 154 Spinoza on, 165,229 Godard, Jean Luc, 46 GOdel, Kun, 230 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 46, 52-3 n, 55 n Grossberg, Lawrence, 237 n Guanari, Felix, 2, 1 36, 254 an, 257, 260

307

harmony, 23, 24, 37 of the faculties, 7-8, 34

Hawthorne, NathuUeJ, 22-3 health, 192, 198-9, 200, 2M, 207, 208, 210

Heael, Georg Wilhtlm Friedrich, 1. 2, 3-4, 1 08, 1 1 3

animal habit. 130-5

becoming, 4, 1 2 1

becominl. 1 2 1-2, 129-30, 133-4 being and nothinpesl, 122, 125

becoming-woman, 174

clear and di.tinCi principLe, 38

body c�o�phy, 168

dialectiCl, 68

borders, 128, 129

identity, 1 1 5

concepts, 1 , 4, 5, 26, 1 16-17,

infinitesimal calculus, 70-1, 74,

240, 241 criticism, 5

7' n

decoding, 252

multipicity, l 1 17, 1 2 1 , 114 Nieasche on, 1 1 7-18

definition of phi l osophy, 5-6

pack concept, 117, 129-30

deterritorialization, 242

Philosophy 0/ Narurt, 122-3, 132,

events, 13, 1 5

133, 134

exceptional individual, 120, 128

proper namet, 1 15-16

family, 123

and psychoanalysis, 123

female body, 176 on Freud, 244 improvintion, 126 language, 180, 182

rigidity of being, 134-5 Sdmc# 0/ Lo�, 121-2, 134 thought, 76, 134-5

unity, 1 1 4-36

music, 265

Heideaer, Martin

nature, 125

difference, 90

pack concept, 1 14, 1 17, 120, 127, 128

end of philosophy, 109 imagination, 53 n

reduction, 135

instance of the question, 69

sexism of, 174

lack of sympathy with, 1

Symbolic Order, 242-3

objection of the everllSting

thought, 6, 7, 1 6 n aansversalilY,235 unconscious, 124

pretent, 98, 100, 1 01-2 surface, 18 thought, I, 32, 50 n

Gueroult, Manial, 54 n, 139, 140-1

hermeneutiCl, 68-9

Guillaume, Gustave, 64

historical materialism, 240, 242-4

guilt, 206

Hobbes, Thomas, 14, 164 HoUand, Eugene, 2

habit, 1 0 1 , 102-3, 130-5 habitus, 65

human project, idea of, 140 humanity, 172

haecceity, 207

Hume, David, 139

hallucinations, 38

humiliation, 207

Hardt, Michael, 82

Husser!, Edmund, 2 1 4 n

308

Index

Huston, John. 125 hyperfinitcs, 72-3

plane of,

I , 6, 164--7 1, 174, 179,

183, 200 of problems, 62

I, fractured. 65

and Spinou, 143, 164-7

Ideal, 250

imperative, 63, 69-70

idealism, 163--4, 170, 227

imperceptible, 189-94. 200

idealization, 133

implicit fonns, 227-8

Ideas/ideas. 4, 57-78

Impressionism, 45

and concepts, 102-3 Kant on, 10,

I I . 334, 38, 58,

65, 66, 73-5, 200 as objects of thought, 10, I I, 1 2 and problems, 10, 5 8 , 62-3, 67-8, 88-9 pro(oundnetS of, 200 of reason, 33-4 of KDsatiOnJ, 35-9, 90 and SpinOD, 142

indetennination, 58, 7 1 , 230 individuality, 1 20-1, 122-3, 124, 126, 127-9, 1 3 1 , 169, 207 infinitesimal calculus, 58, 64, 70-5, 7. infinitesimal language. 64 nfi i nity distinction within, 149 idea of, 4 instanu, 8H, 92

Ideas-structures, 89, 9 1

insufficiency, 124, 125

identity, 86, 90, 91, 1 0 1 , 1 15

integen, ideal inflllity of, 72-3

identity-formation, 243

intellectual asceticism, 43

ideology, 235, 238-9 n

intensity, 205, 221-4, 226

image content, 218-19

in art, 40-1, 42, 43-4, 45-9, 5 1 n

image-effectivity, 1 1 0, 218-19

and duration, 96

m i age-event, 220, 225

and eKtensioo, 83, 86, 89-90, 103

image quality, 218

ofimagcs, 2 1 8-21

image reception, 2 1 7-22, 232-6

and sensatioo, 36-8, 39

image of thought $II thought

and transcendent objects, 9

images. 9, 27-8

intentions, 223

in the cinema, 266-7. 268

interpcUation, 68, 69

in painting. 41-2

n i timate plane of exterionty,

se, also movement-image; rime-image

194-200 intolerable, 197-8, 203

Imaginary register, 243

intuition, 1 6 n, 37, 87

imaginary relations, 5 2 n

invisible, 190-1

imagination, 8, 10, 33-4, 37, 53 n and art, 51

n

and joyful passions, 154, 155,

in an, 40-1, 42, 258, 259, 266, 2.7 1ST theory, 7 1

15. immanence

jackal-panicles, 126

and affect, 231

Jakobson, Roman, 245, 246, 250

and evaluation, 208

Jameson, Frederic, 221

of ideas, 67

Jardine, Alice, 174

and intensity, 226

jealousy, 32, S i n

and language, 179, 182, 183

Johnson, Barbara, 245, 246, 250

J..u. Jonas, Hans, 166

309

UlI'&nIe, Joseph Louis, Comte de,

joyfuJ passions, 149, 1 5 2-7, 1 6 1 n, 16.

,. landscape paintina. 258

)aYful wisdom, 102 judjement, 8, 105 n, 208-9 justice. 2 1 5 n

lanauliC and bodies, 179-83 and eventl, 1 3

Kafka, Franz, 206, 207, 209

Kandinsky, Vasily, 43

Kant, Immanuel, 2, 24, 108, 205, 227

idea of. 1 2 and image recept ion, 2 19--20 and nomination, I I I as special preserve of human, 231 lautmaM, Alben, 10, 57-8, 6 1 , 62, 67-8, 18 n

actuality. 88 aesthetic dualism, 29, 48

Lawrence, O. H., 147

colour, 53n

lawrence, T. E., 200

common sense, 8, 1 0 - 1 1 , 30, 33

leamina. 9, 77-8

conceptual penonae, 1 16

Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm,

Critique ofJudgemn.r., 8, 29, 33 CritiqlU ofPrac� iUaum, 8, 33 CritiqlU ofPun JUaJDrI, 6, 8, 10, 29, 33, 37, 85,89

ideas, 10, 1 1 , 31-4, 38, 58, 65, 66, 73--5, 200

I conceprual

personae, 1 16

eventl, 1 2

expression, 3 ideas, I I infinitesimal,64

imagination, 8, H. 34. 37, 53 n intensity, 36

WrUJ, 1 3

reason, 7, 8, 10-11, 33, 58. 88

Lenz, 209-1 0

recognition model, 3, 6

Uvi-Strauss, Claude, 242

perceptions, 35, 38

scbema, 66, 74-5

Libet. Benjamin, 223

sensation, 35, 36, 37, 39, 53 n, 90

libido, 156, 242, 244, 252

theory of the £aculties. 7-8, 34

life, concept of, 91, 195-6

transcendental

illusions, 85

undentanding, 8, 10-1 1, 37, 58

and art, 201-3

and death, 205

KembeT8, Ono, 251

liaht. 264

Kerouac, Jack, 147

limitation, 86

KJee, Paul, 40, 43, 44, 55n, 210

linguistics, 64, 162, 164

Kleist, Heinrich Wilhelm von, 209

literaruu, 40, 4 1

knowledge, 5, 6, 8, 10.

I I , 12,

1 7 n, 74

and exprelSionism, 1 4 1 landscapes, 194-200

and expression, 146, 147

and the percept, 202-4

Foucault on, 162-3, 164, 266

resonance in, 46

Spinou. on. 165, 166 KriSteva, Julia, 251

St, also Baudelaire, Charles

Pierre; Melville, Hennan; Proust, Marcel

la Mole, Mathilde dc, 58

logic, 159 n

Lacan, Jacques, 108, 2 3 1 , 241. 243,

logical preoccupation, 67

244, 250

III,

140

Loraux, Patrice, 209

Indl:<

310

Louis-Philippe. Kins. 249 Luk'cs, Georg, 241 Luther, Manin, 244, 245. 252 Lyotlrd. Jean-Fran�ois. 41, 44, 5 1 n, 54 n, 258, 259-60, 264 Machercy, Pierre, 3 Mackinnon. C., 1 8 1 Maddy, Penelope, 66 Madonna, 253 Maimon, Salomon, 1 1 , 35, 36, 37, 39

Malabou, Catherine, }-4 Maldincy, Henri, 3 1 , 258-9, 260,

metonymy, 245-6, 247, 250 Michaux, H., 128 Milet, Jean, 84 Millet, Jean Fran�ois, 40-1 mime, 233, 235 mind and body, 163, 165-6, 198, 225 and cognition, 223 as membrane of external world, 197

vacillation of, 155 millinl absence, objection of, 98-9 Moby Dic.lf. (ftIm), 1 2 1 , 125 Moby Die"- (novel), 20-1, 22-3, 25-6, 125, 189, 192, 193-4,

26'

Malebnnche. Nicolu, 140 manifolds, 74, 75, 82-3, 85, 89 Mann, Daniel, 1 2 1 Marcus, Sharon, 180-1, 182, 183 Martin, }ean-Clct. 5 Man:, Karl, 244, 253 Marxism, 141 masochism, 156, 247-9, 251 mass-media, 236 Massumi, Brian, 2 Mastroianni, Marcello. 200 material-force relation, 43-4, 265 material-sensation relation, 47-8 materialism, 163-4, 170 mathematics, 57-9, 60-2, 64, 66, 67-8, 70-5, 76-7, 7 9 n

MatherOD, Alexandre, 139, 1 4 1 matter, 95, 96, 97 matter-form relation, 43 mechanism, 98 Melville, Herman, 20-1, 22-3, 25-6, 125, 189, 192, 193-4, 199, 200

memory, 9, 93, 94, 95, 96, 100, 1 0 1 , 102-3

Merleau-Ponty, Maurice, 3 1 , 81,

199, 200

modernism, 108, 241, 245-7,250, 251-4

modulation process, 43, 46 molar usemblales, 1 76-9 monads, 235 Mondrian, Piet, 43 monism, 60, 95, 97, 165 morality, 8 morpbodynamic ideas, 64 movement, 74, 82-5, 95, 96, 233 movement-imale, 19-22, 84 multiplicity, 2, 27, 8 1 , 82-5 abbreviation of, 134 n i

art, 48

economy of, 130 of events, 1 2 and the exceptional, 120, 121, 124 of ideas, 10, 59-60, 89 Nietzsche on, 117-18 and plateaus, 136 and proper names, 1 1 5 and psychoanalysis, 1 1 4 structural, 60, 64 Jee alJo pack, concept of music, 5, 40, 41, 257, 265-6, 267

98, 100, 101, 1 9 1

metaphor, 61, 194-5, 196, 204, 214

n,

245-6, 247, 250

metaphysics, 12,74

Nancy, Jean Luc, 1, 5 Napoleon III, 247, 249, 251 naturalism, 74-5

Index

311 in dialectics, 68, 70

nature, 231-2 laws of, 125-6

and idea, 62, 88, 89

necessity, 140, 2 1 4 n

and perception, 37-8

nelativity, 1 1 2 , 1 13, 129-30

and repretentarlon, 7-8, 89

and affirmation. 1 18-19, 146, 159n and binary machines, 1 5 1 , 152

transcendental, 9-IO

JIe abo recolftition

and dialectics, 68, 99, 1 19

oil paintin" 47-8

and exprenion, 146-7

ontology

and joyful passions, 153, 156

of the quenion. 62-3, 69

and structuralism, 90

and Spinoza, 142, 164-5

Negri, Antonio, 253 Neimann, Susan, 1 6 n

of the virtual, 81-103 opinions, 32, 50-1 n, 1 1 6-17

Nelson, Edward, 7 1

order-words, 2, 13, 179-83

Newton, Isaac, 46, 52 n, 55 n

ordinal varieties, 60

Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm, 8 1 ,

orpnism, conception of, 132-3,

1 1 1, 139, 179 animals and personae, 201 an of the pleb, 1 16 clear ideas, 39 return,

182, 183 otherness, 98, 172, 175, 181

conceptual personae, 1 1 6 eternal

167-8, 185 n, 198 organization, plane of, 165-6, 169,

outside-of-Being, 69

100, 102, 199

ethieJ of the event, 14 expression, 142

pack, concept of,

1 14,

1 1 6,

1 17,

120-1, 1 23-4, 127-31

faculty offorgetting, 38, 5).-4 n

pain. 29. 33. 156, 248

health, 192, 207, 208

painting, 40-8, 257, 258-64, 267

on Helei, 1 17-18

pantheism, 160 n

penpectivism, 24

Paradis, Bruno. 82

reactive forces. 206

Pamel, Claire, 1 1 6

thou;ht, 1 , 7 , 9

pUl-words, 179-83

will to power, 3, 195, 214 n

nihilism, 208 nomadism, 2

nomination, 23, I l l , 1 1 5-16 non-being, 63

panions. 149, 152-7, 1 6 1 n passivity, 37, 65, 1l2, 153, 155, 198, 205,225 past, 65, 93-4, 99- 1 0 1 , 102,214, 22>-'

nonstandard analysis, 71-2

pathic moment, 3 1

norms, 75, 162-4

pathological experiences, 38

nothingness, 19, 99, 122, 125

Peguy, Charles PietTe, 1 3

noumenal, 65, 73-4

perception

number in nonstandard analysis, 7 1 numerical distinction. 149-51

and art, 4

and autonomy of affect, 229 Bergson on, 38, 54 n and the cinema, 54 n

objectivist temptation, 3 1

and common sensc. 3 1

objects

conscious, 35, 39

and concepts, 36

contradictory, 9

Index

3.2 perception (Cont'd) of the imperceptible, 189-94

regions of, 227-8, 235 power

of objects, 37-8

Kant on, 33

and phenomenology. 84

sexual, 162-3, 170-1, 1 7 7-8, 181

Suaus on, 258

Spinoza on, 140, 141, 146-7,

uncon�ous . 3 5 . 3 8

152-3, 1 6 1 n

percepts, 26, 188-2 1 2

pre-existence, 93

pcrplication. 59, 60

pre-individual, 227

personac, 1 16-17, 201-4

present, 9J-4, 98, 99-102, 224

perspectives, 20, 21-2, 23, 24

pruenlification, 1 2 5

Petitot. Jean, 64, 78 n

pride, 207

phallus, 243

primitive thought experiments, 75

phantasms," 1 0

problems

phase space, 226 phcnomcnololY. 84, 100, 1 0 1 .. 140, '9'

and the am, 4 1 awareness of, 9

and concepts, 159 n

phi/ill, 32, 5 0 n

determination of, 6

philosophical Odyssey, 63

and events, 14, 17 n

philosophy

and ideas, 10, 58, 62-3, 67-8,

and an, 4, 5, 14, 39--41 definition of, 5-6, 40 history of, 2-J and science, 4, 5, 1 4 physiology, 126

physis. 68, 74

88-9 solution of, 10, 6 1 -2, 88-9, 9 1 , 92 and thought, la, I I, 1 2

proper name, 1 1 5-16

propositions, 5, I I , 13, 1 7 n ProUSt, Marcel, 23, 139

plateau, definition of, 136

jealousy, 5 1 n

Plato, 3, 6, 9, 30-1, 500, 59, 102,

mistranslat ions, 148

""

pleasure, 29, 33, 156, 2 1 7-18, 247-8

resonance, 46 search for truth, 32 signs, 3 1 , 4 1

plenum, 98, 99

time, 5 4 n

Plotinus. 99, 197

use of the faculties, 34

pluralism, 60, 97

psychic splitting. 250-1

Poe, Edgar Allan, 251

psychoanalysis

poetry. 245-7, 250, 251--4

and family, 123

politics, 142, 170, 179-81, 1850

influence in France, 174-5

Pollock, Jackson, 43

and molar assemblas:es, J 76, 177

possibility, 86-7, 92, 99, 175

and percept, 210, 2 1 0

postmodemism, 51 n, 251, 252, 253

and sado-masochism, 1 5 6

posutrUcturalism, 221

and schizoanalysis, 240, 242-3,

pOlentiality, 86-7, 127, 225 and abstraction, 227 Bergson, 224

244-5

and wolf pack analysis, J 14, J 17, 123

of mass-media, 236

psychosis, 204

pure element of, 59, 7 1

pure past, 65

Indu qualitability, 36, 58-9, 71, 149-52, 161 n quanta, 227-8 quantitability, 58, 70, 7 1 , 76-7, 149-52, 1 6 1 n quanNm, logic of, 73 quanNm mechanics, 230 question, instance of, 62-3, 67, 69-70, 77, 9 1

313 and difference, 9�. 101. 102-1, 115

at a distance. 195. 214 ft

and pleasure, 247-8

representation, 4, 7, 23-4 in an, 40. 41-2, 43, 44. 49, '4n, 2'. and consciousness, 64, 65-6, 89 and the finitelinfinite couple, 6-1. 65-6

rape, 177-8, 180-1, 183 rationality, 51 n, 1 4 1 , 143, 157 n rationalization, 241

and infinitesimal calculus, 70, 76 of the PUt, 93

and structure, 89

Reagan, Ronald, 232-4

resemblance, 86

real distinction, 149-51

resonance, 46, 47, 55 n, 263

real relations, 52 n reality, 86-7, 88, 96, 110, 230-1 and expression, 145, 146, 147 reason

and intensity, 2 1 9-20, 223 responsibility, 206, 207

ussentimtnt, 1 1 5 , 205, 215 n

ResNccia, Maria Rosario, 8 1

and clear and distinct principle, 39

reterritorialization, 241-2, 244

and joyful passions, 152

rhizome model, 7, 136, 257

Kant on, 7, 8, 10-1 I, 33, 58, 88

rhythmic variation, 96. 97

Spinoza on, 166

Riemann, G. H., 82-3

theological, 23

riahts, 5 1 n

receptivity, I32

Rimbaud, Arthur, 142

reciprocal determination, 7 1

ritomello, 2

recoding, 241-2, 244, 249, 250, 252

Robinet, A., 158 n

recognition, 3, 6-9, 10, 16n, 30-4,

romanticism, 246-7, 250, 251,

3. in painting, 41-2, 44, 48

2'3-4 Rose, Gillian, 82

recollection, 102 reduction, 120-1, 123, 124, 1 34-5 regress, 65, 73-4 reification, 241

Sacher-Masoch, Leopold von, 247, 248-9 Sacks, Oliver, 232

Reik, Theodor. 248

sadism, 156, 249

relation, autonomization of, 228,

sadness, 152, 153-4, 155-6, 161 n,

229-30

169,217-18

relation, dialectic of, 7 1 , 74

Salanskis, Jean-Michel, 4, 7, 10

relativity theory, 97

Same, Jean-Paul, 98, 100, 1 0 1 ,

religion, essence of, 244

108, 140

relinked parcelling, 2 1

Saussure, Ferdinand de, 246

reminiscence, 94, 102

sayable, 266, 267, 268

Rl:nal, Madame de. 58 repetition, 3 of change, 132, 133

Jlt (lisa Itlua

Schellina, Friedrich Wilhelm, 29, 87, 105 n

314 schema, 66, 73, 74-5

1n4c<

schizoanalysis. 2, 240-54 schizophrenia. 203-4, 209, 243, 245 science and philosophy, 4, 5, 1 4

limulacra, 1 0 tlavuy, 152, 156

Smith, Adam, 244, 245, 252 Smith, Daniel, 7, 9, 1 1

sociability, 164-5, 175-6, 179

sculpture:. 55-6 n

social constructivism, 231

seamless plenum, objection of. 98,

Social Contract, 14

secretion of the pick, 121, 124,

solutions, 10, 61-2, 88-9, 9 1 , 92

••

127, 129

society, idea of, 12 Sorci, Julien. 58

secrets, 129

soul, 154-5, 1 6 1 n

�If

sound, 36, 4 1

ideas of. 4 identity of, 7

in the cinema, 266-7, 268

II'

also music

$cl£.imalc, 206

souvenir, 201

sclf-orllnization, 226, 227

space, 53 n

self-perception, 229

and duntion, 83, 92-3, 95, 96, 98

self-reflection, 229

and movement, 84

sensations, 9, 29-39, 89-90, 191,

and painting, 258, 259

20. Ind an, 4, 5, 39-49, 258-68 and ideas. 35-9, 90

Kant on, 35, 36, 37, 39, 53 0, 90

organization of, 222 Straus on, 258

synthesis of, 45--9, 55-6 n sense, 13, 14, 112, 194-6, 2 1 4 0

and schema, 66, 74, 75 and sensibility, 36, 37, 38, 49 and transcendental illusions, 85 speculation, 1 1 6, 162-3, 164 Spinoza, Baruch, 8 1 , 139-41, 182, 183 affect, 143, 154-6, 222, 225, 226, 227, 229, 231

sense experience, 3 1

affirmation, 146, 159 n

sensibility, theory- of, 9 , 29, 5 1 n

bodie., 2, 126, 165-7, 225

Itt D/sa bdng of the sensible

cartography, 168-71

sensory diSlonions, 38

conceptual penonae, 1 1 6

set theory, 67, 72-3

EtlticJ, 142-4, 147, 148, 1 5 1 , 153,

sexism, 174 sexuality, 162-4, 170-1, 176-9 lind politics, 179-81 shame, 206-7 shock, 229, 235 sight, 190-2 signs. 9, 30-3, 34, 35, 39, 53 n, 196, 197

154, ISS, 156, 158 n, 169, 179, 187 n, 225

ethics of the cvent, 14 cxpression, 3, 141-9, 156-7, 158 n encnsion and Idca, 96

God.

165, 229

inunancnce, 143, 164-7 joyful passions, 149, 152-7

and art, 39, 41, 44, 49

pantheism, 160 n

and intensity, 36, 218-19

powcr, 140, 141, 146-7, 152-3,

and literary commentary, 202 Simondon, Gilben, 43, 227, 229, 230, 231

161 n powcr of prcscrvation, 179 spacc of thc vinual, 99

I

1...u. substances, 142, 144, 149-52

315

Iyltolic forces, 259, 261, 263, 264

uanscendentaJ notioDs, 237 n universal notions, 237 n

tactility, 228, 235

ways ofknowin,. 176

Teilhard de Chardin, Piem:, 140

spiritualization, 96

teleololY, 121, 130-1

spleen, 250

television, 234

spontaociry, 132, 1 3 3

temporal difference, 10

state capture, 179

tendencies, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89-90,

states ofaffain, 12, 14, 15, 180

95, 224, 225

states of things, 87, 96

territorialization, 241-2

Stendhal, 19

things

Stoicism, 12, 13, 1 5

euence of, 94

Suaus, Erwin, 3 1 , 258

existence of. 96

SUavinsky, Igor Fedorovich, 41

tendencie. within, 85, 87

stroll, ethics of, 209-10

Thorn, Rene, 64, 128

suuctural multiplicity, 60, 64

moulin. 26

suucturalism, 90, 139, 220--1

and bein" 23

stupidity, 32, 50 n, 206

and eJ:pI'ession, 146, 148

Sturm, Henha, 217

II • form of eJ:perimentation, 14

subject in dialectics, 68, 70 and ideas, 62, 89

genetic account of, 37-8, 39, 108-9 Hegel on, 76, 1 34-5 Heidegger on, I, 32, 50 n

and movement, 84

and idell, 10, I I , 1 2

and representation, 89

imaSC' of, 3,6-12, 16 n , 30, 32,

unity of, 7 subjective compensation, 31

38, 48, 50 n and knowledse, 6, 10

subjectivity, 38, 101-2, 133, 140,

necessity of, 109

200, 201 sublation, 68, 1 1 5'

plane of, 1 16

sublime, analysis of, 8, 33, 51 n substances, 68 Spino:r.a on, 142, 144, 149-52 lubsumption, 36 subtraction of the pack, 120-1,

123-4, 127, 129, 130, UI, 135 succession, types of, 97, 100 surface, 18-19 suspense, 21, 220 swimming, 77-8 Symbolic Order, 242-4, 248, 250 Symbolic Other, 243 Symbolic register, 243 synthetic power, 37 systems, 1-2, 1 5 n, 257 and SpinOla, 140-- 1

and plane of immanence, 1, 6,

164-7 possibility of, 27

and problems, 10, I I , 12 and the recosnition model, 3,

6-9, 10, 16 n and sensations, 30-1 and truth, I II a vector of deterritorialization,

13 time, 38, 4 1 , 49, 53 n, 54 n belief1 about, 93-4, 99-102 and dialectics, 68 and the fractured I, 65 and schema, 66, 74, 75 spatialization of, 97 and transcendental illusions, 85

316

Inda

rime (Cent'(/)

value&, criticism of, 7

Sll also duration

Van Goah, Vincent,

21, 22, 24 Tinguely. Jean 48

Varese, Edgar,

totality

vertilo, 38

time-image.

in art,

variation. movement of, Vcnov, D.

48, 56 n

Toumicr. Michel,

164, 171-6, 181

transcendence and affect.

231

and expression, of problems,

62 9-10

transcendental empiricism, I I ,

12,

49,83, 85-90, 92

Transccndental ldeu,

10, I I, 12. 67 83, 85-90,

transcendental illusions,

97, 102 transcendental notions. transcendentalism,

237 n 38, 65. 196.

214 n. 226 235 transformation. 43 transgression, 25 transduction,

transport, laws of, trauma,

124 21, 48. 88. 235

250

trauma dreams. 248 truth,

1, 6, 10, I I , 14, 31-2, 5 1 n

unconscious,

124. 259--60 undecidability, 230 undcrdcu:rmination, 241 undcr1tanding,8, 10-11, 16 n, 37, 58, 134 clear and distinct, 39, 54 n unity in art,

48, 56 n

and difference.

1 18 1 1 4-36 Nietzsche on. 1 1 7-18 and psychoanalysis. 1 1 4 universal notions, 237 n universal variation, 36, 54 n univocit)', 146, 165 unsayable, 266, 267 and Hegel.

71

54 n

vibntion, 45-6, 47, 55 n, 97, 201, 263 virtual u, actualization

81-103, J I ()- I I , 228, 235-6 and body. 224-5 and concepts, 14 and events, 14, 69, 77 and percept, 208 visibility. 19.201 in an, 4()-1. 258. 259 in me cinema, 267, 268 Foucault on, 266 oftime, 54 n vision, 190--2, 205, 228, 235 vitality, 205, 2 1 1 , 229 volition. 223 voluntarism, 164, 170

virtuality,

143

transcendent objects,

transvcr1aliry,

41, 142

41

wealth, essence of, Weber, Max,

244

241

Weekmd, 46

Weier1uass, Karl Theodor Wilhelm.

64 266

Welles, Orson.

Whitehead, Alfred North,

12 1 9-22, 36, 53 n Whitman, Walt. 147 whole, 97-8 will, 15, 223 will to power, 3, 102, 195, 21 I, 214 n Wi/ltJrd, 121, 127 wolves, 1 14, 117, 120-1, 123-4, 127, 130 Woolf, Virginia, 147, 200 WyschoiJrOd, Edith, 98 whiteness,

Zeno, 83 ZFC set theory,

72-3

Zourabichvi l i, Fran�ois, 3,

5, 82, 108