Interpretation as Performance

Wiggenstein, the unutterable & Simondon.


'You've often heard me say - perhaps too often - that poetry is what is lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation.' This is Frost, according to Louis Untermeyer (Robert Frost: A Backward Look). So why interpret? Why translate?

Here is Wittgenstein, in a letter to Paul Engelmann:

'[I]f only you do not try to utter what is unutterable then nothing gets lost. But the unutterable will be - unutterably - contained in what has been uttered.'

Here is Wittgenstein again, in a letter to Ludwig Picker:

'I once meant to include [...] a sentence which is not in fact there now but which I will write out for you here. What I meant to write then was this. My work consists of two parts: the one presented here plus all that I have not written. And it is precisely this second part that is the important one.'

And here is Guy Debord in Critique de la séparation:

'The sectors of a city...are decipherable, but the personal meaning they have for us is incommunicable, as is the secrecy of private life in general, regarding which we possess nothing but pitiful documents.'

So what is lost is fugitive in the way that the connotative is, that qualia are fugitive. It runs away with the writer, leading him into alleyways in which what happens simply can't be spoken of or said. And it runs away from the reader, leaving him with alleyways in which something unknown presumably must have happened, in which what is possible is either happening or may be going to happen but is possibly not the same set of experiences but another. In which talking about what is visible, publicly available, is at once necessary and rather beside the point. In which interpretation and/or translation is in one sense like Tennyson's views on love. In which it's better to try and fail than never to try in the first place. 'In place of hermeneutics we need an erotics of art,' as Sontag puts it in Against Interpretation, as though undressing a virgin text for which undressing itself is the point:

'A cigarette that bears a lipstick's traces
An airline ticket to romantic places
Still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you.'

(Billie Holliday: These Foolish Things)

However, there is another aspect which concerns both the nature and the ownership of those alleyways (or cigarette or airline ticket; or stockings, in the version by Ella Fitzgerald, or whatever) and how they come about. And it isn't at all about applying (say) Rachel Whiteread's approach to the negative space of what's not there or can't be reached. As though the artwork or the poem had, by definition, to be about containment or capture (or its failure) within form, or about apparent form and content and about the transcendence either of the structure as Platonic form or of what's within some 'visible' structure as the content that goes beyond obvious 'content' and which is something that cannot be grasped. This is one version (the wrong one) of Wittgenstein's view that 'An aphorism doesn't need to be true,' that 'it should go beyond truth. It should, as it were, go beyond it with one satz.'

And so here, as an alternative, is Simondon (L'individuation psychique et collective à la lumiere des notions de Forme, Information, Potentiel et Métastabilité). What's important, in this view of how things work, is 'to know about the individual through individuation', not the other way around. Moreover:

'In the process of individuation the living human being is both the actor and the theatre. His becoming is a permanent individuation, or rather a series of bouts of individuation that proceed from one state of temporary equilibrium to another.'

All of which is probably the other and very much better sense of Wittgenstein's assertion. Or as the Bible puts it (John, I: 14) language is being created as a living thing:

'And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us [...] full of grace and truth.'

(Significantly the title of Paolo Virno's Quando il verbo si fa carne. Linguaggio e natura umana turns 'word' back into 'verb', into individuation and the process of becoming.)

And as Dickinson puts it also:

'A Word that breathes distinctly
Has not the power to die
Cohesive as the Spirit
It may expire if He -
'Made Flesh and dwelt among us'
Could condescension be
Like this consent of Language
This loved Philology.'

Or as de Gregori puts it in La storia siamo noi:

Well history doesn't really stop outside some great front door
History enters into the rooms and burns them up
[...]
[...] it's us, these waves upon the sea
this noise that breaks the silence,
[...]
History: that's us, it's us that write the letters,
it's us for whom there's all to win and all to lose.

Or as unknown Greek demonstrators interviewed by the Observer put it:

'When they killed Alexis, everyone felt it could have been any of us, so we made it all of us.
[...]
'Above all, this revolt was an assertion of dignity and a statement of presence. Of all the slogans, our most important was We are here.
[...]
'This uprising has given people who were never part of our movement a new understanding of what it means to be who they are.'

Now what's important, of course, is to avoid any slippage whatsoever either into mere aspiration or nostalgia or into assertions of bogus causality or (worse still) deterministic cynicism.

'They fuck you up, your mum and dad,' according to Philip Larkin. So don't be a parent yourself. A dystopic reading of Darwin and an abject determinism in which people are as separate and as imperviously solid as atoms used to be and humanity is envisaged as a collection of disparate individuals through whom faults are passed on down through the generations and to whom accrete further faults, apparently through mutation. The group has ceased to exist. So too has the individual, except as the consequence of the actions of individual others who are themselves the consequence of individual others in an infinite recursion in which subjectivity is kept all too firmly offstage. Whoever the actor may be, in other words, he is never ever the speaker. So choose childlessness instead.

And here too are The Who in 1971 (Won't Get Fooled Again from Who's Next) rejecting transcendent ideals (and rejecting music as exemplary act, as though it were blowing up bridges) in favour of a cynicism as corrosive as that of Larkin (or New Labour) about a history to which they have allowed themselves no access and so can provide no answer:

'The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that's all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain't changed
[...]
There's nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left
Are now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight.'

Because what Simondon offers is useful. Because the trick in the dynamic and aspectual approach to History of which he is a part is to substitute for what is fugitive and/or omitted the idea of a surplus, of something that's not included, which always exceeds the taking: 'The concept does not exhaust the thing conceived,' according to Adorno (Negative Dialectics). Except that in this context the interpretable meaning of a poem, say, which is in no way subsumable under the rubric of concept, constitutes itself. It is brought into being not by the writer, not by the reader nor even in the interstitial space between the two as though it were something subordinate, but as performance: as language acting in the theatre of writer, poem and reader (because performative language always performs that trick of bringing into being, or it attempts to) and, simultaneously, as writer, reader and poem acting in the theatre of language, inherited and to come. And it always leaves something behind.

Vogliamo tutto?

Trade unions and precarity.


A nice example both of how unions fail to deal adequately with issues of outsourcing, agency work and precarity and of how unions, like parties, are frequently part of the problem. This is union convenor Bernard Moss at the Cowley plant speaking to the Oxford Mail for 17 February and putting his position as BMW's talking poodle quite succinctly:

'The problem we had was that we were under clear instruction we could not give out any information until the company said so. That caused a lot of concern from the workforce over the last couple of weeks. Although we are a trade union we are employed by the company.'

Two-handed Conversations

Communication is asymptotic.


On the one hand:

The subject begins the analysis by talking about himself without talking to you or talking to you without talking about himself. When he can talk to you about himself the analysis is over.
(Lacan: Introduction to Jean Hyppolite's commentary on Freud's Verneinung. Cf Écrits, 1966, p373)

And on the other:

We have to be patient with each other, and rejoice whenever we manage (both us and other people) to move forward. We can't just stay where we are.
(Károly Kerényi, letter to Furio Jesi, 5 October 1964, as quoted by Wu Ming I)

Clara Petacci

On the death of Clara Petacci.


Like Mussolini, Clara 'Claretta' Petacci was shot in 1945 and her body hung upside down at a petrol station at piazzale Loretta in Milan. But with this difference: that her skirt was tied around her knees. To prevent her knickers showing, according to Giuseppe Genna in Grande madre rossa. Because she had taken them off, according to some reports. Because she had been violated, according to Giorgio Pisanò.

After the Mass Society

C Wright Mills and post autonomism


In The Mass Society (from The Power Elite, 1956) C Wright Mills looks at 'public opinion' as the mythic seat of democratic power. This is what New Labour's Gordon Brown deceitfully invokes whenever he bleats about 'the British people', whose needs he always knows. Essentially it is 'an 18th Century idea' which 'parallels the economic idea of the market of the free economy': a world of freely competing actors where price (not value) is formed by 'anonymous, equally weighted, bargaining individuals' and opinion arises out of 'little circles of people talking with one another'. So that autonomy is assumed in both cases and autonomy of discussion in particular is important for the idea of how it legitimates, of how 'no one group monopolises the discussion or by itself determines the conditions that prevail.' So that 'the discussion of opinion is the important phase in a total act by which public affairs are conducted.'

According to the reusable metaphor which Wright Mills then goes on to create out of the birth of British industrialisation, the opinionated public thus conceived 'is the loom of classic 18th Century democracy' in which 'discussion is at once [both] the threads and the shuttle', tying things together as it were.

And yet, then as well as now, this description is implausible: merely 'a set of images out of a fairy tale: they are not adequate even as an approximation of how [...] power works [...] The idea of the community of publics is not a description of fact, but an assertion of an ideal' which 'is recognized by all those who have considered it carefully as something less than it once was.'

Writing out of his own particular time and place, Wright Mills develops out of what he finds a notion of a 'society of masses' in a way that parallels the identification of the 'mass worker' by Italian operaisti. In the latter, not wholly brave new world of post miracular Italy the opinion-forming Estates had either broken down or become irremediably repressive, rather as the unions and the trade and craft distinctions had either come to break down or had become oppressive in the Republic founded on Work:

'Boss, you haven't fooled us
with your creations, with the unions
your plans have gone up in smoke,
it's us you're up against.

And the qualifications, the trade distinctions,
we want them all abolished.
The divisions are at an end.'

(Alfredo Bandelli: La ballata della FIAT)

Or as an Autonomist slogan put it not long after dear, democratic Doctor Kissinger's splendid 11 September coup against Allende: 'In Chile they've got the tanks, but we've got the unions.'

And so, speculating now, out of this particular time and place, long after we got what we asked for, which wasn't at all what we wanted (who was it, by the way, who described Berlusconi, friend of Tony Blair and client of David Mills / Mr Tessa Jowell, as the bastard child of Radio Alice?), we can recycle. Indeed Wright Mills' metaphorical observations seem to need updating only slightly. In the era of cognitive capitalism, of immaterial labour, of precarity, the loom has been dismantled, or possibly repossessed. Instead there are simply small transmitter/receivers bobbing on the surface of the boundless ocean, linked only by the thread of their capacity endlessly, repetitively, to transmit and to receive. This is Negri's multitude, but before it achieves self consciousness as a social subject. The movement of the ocean is titanic. Events go on 'elsewhere'. Until the crash. But until then, in the thin and airless little world of the post Fordist polity as a viable public space, presence is everything, so that whilst these devices may disperse and recombine, whilst they float upon it they do not partake of the ocean in any active way, so that the overall effect is (at best) one of empty, mutual advertisement, of our affectless reincarnation as mindless, self documenting emoticons. Cf, for example, the examples of the bishop who would put confirmations on Twitter, as though the act of being formally received into the Church were a sort of spiritual happy slapping, or of Gordon Brown, looking and behaving like a gloomily aspirant Celtic Tony Hancock, over on You Tube. But there are plenty of non Establishment examples of the same sort of thing.

And meanwhile actual or social disappearance, not now the effect either of a real historical iceberg or of a metaphorical one but just a process of slow or rapid withdrawal, of absence, is merely radio silence, over and out, of death amidst white noise.

And we are, most of us, for the most part, still living out that death.

The Sociological Imagination

Wright Mills on the public / private split


Nowadays men often feel that their private lives are a series of traps. They sense that within their everyday worlds, they cannot overcome their troubles, and in this feeling, they are often quite correct: What ordinary men are directly aware of and what they try to do are bounded by the private orbits in which they live; their visions and their powers are limited to the close-up scenes of job, family, neighborhood; in other milieux, they move vicariously and remain spectators. And the more aware they become, however vaguely, of ambitions and of threats which transcend their immediate locales, the more trapped they seem to feel.

(C Wright Mills: The Sociological Imagination, 1959)

Britain's Torture Policy

Further evidence as to why New Labour are unfit to be in office:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/feb/16/pakistan-torture-mi5-agent-binyam