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The Dangers of Writing

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Abstract

Derrida’s logocentrism thesis, tenability of the Derridean project; phonocentrism; metaphysics and hierarchies; debasement of writing; history of the debasement of writing; the order of the sign; privileging of the phonic; the order of the sign as metaphysics’ Other; soul writing and physical writing; analogy between the soul and the book; writing as enfixing, writing as mimesis; painting as writing’s double; writing as reifying representation and limitation; the ranking of signifiers by their proximity to truth and presence; writing as sorcery; living memory and dead memory; writing as alien to the soul; ontology of writing; the mnemic space (living memory) as the aletheic space; writing as contamination of the aletheic space, as concealment, as forgottenness, as death.

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Notes

  1. 1.

    The first section of the first ch. of Part I of Of Grammatology (Derrida 1974) is entitled “The End of the Book and the Beginning of Writing.” According to Derrida, the format of traditional discourse, which is identified with the idea of the ‘book,’ seeks to regiment the dissemination of meanings in a given text into a single and authoritative meaning. This single meaning is usually identified with ‘authorial intent,’ and conveyed through the organic structure of a beginning (prologue), middle, and end (epilogue). This structure seeks to mimic that of a living creature—head, body, and tail—as per Plato’s likening the logos to a living creature, an analogy also drawn elsewhere in Greek philosophy. The other form of discourse, identified with ‘writing,’ chooses, as a matter of principle, to leave the dissemination of the text’s meaning alone, discounting any authoritative stance vis-à-vis that meaning, since the regimentation of meaning is assumed to be virtually impossible. Derrida maintains that writing is inherently fragmentary, aphoristic, and impossible to regiment and totalize. And all the more is it not amenable to being totalized by its author. In this respect, the author is generated by the text more than the text is generated by the author. One of the primary aims of the deconstructivist strategy for reading the classic texts by Plato , Rousseau , Freud , and Husserl is to show that the book form of discourse is an impossible dream impelled by metaphysics’ desire for origin and presence. In this sense, anything that purports to be a book is actually writing. Christina Howells fleshes out the principal difference between the discourse of the ‘book’ and that of ‘writing’ by adducing Derrida’s Glas, where he juxtaposes Hegel’s works, qua paradigm case of a ‘book,’ to Jean Genet’s, qua paradigm case of ‘writing.’ Indeed, Glas itself is a performative text that, in being fragmentary, aphoristic, and graphically divided into two parallel texts, epitomizes ‘writing.’ It is an expression of retreat from any intent—conscious or unconscious—to regiment the text’s dissemination of meaning. See Howells (1999, 72–95). It is interesting to compare these claims to similar distinctions drawn by Barthes in “The Death of the Author” between “text” and “writing,” and between “author” and “scriptor” (Barthes 1977, 142–48).

  2. 2.

    On Derrida’s analysis of the debasement of writing in Saussure’s thought, see Derrida (1974, 30–65).

  3. 3.

    The works in questions are “Plato’s Pharmacy,” (Derrida 1981, 61–172); “Linguistics and Grammatology ,” (Derrida 1974, 27–73); “Nature, Culture, Writing,” (Derrida 1974, 95–194); “Freud and the Scene of Writing,” (Derrida 1978a, 196–231); “The Pit and the Pyramid: Introduction to Hegel’s Semiology,” (Derrida 1982a, 69–108); and “Qual Quelle: Valéry’s Sources” (Derrida 1982b, 273–306).

  4. 4.

    On this term, see Chapter 5.

  5. 5.

    Metaphysically speaking, signs and signifiers are the same: they both denote that which stands for presence and takes the place of presence in its absence. There is only a difference between the two in the context of Saussure’s semiotics . Saussure identifies the signifier with the “sound image” of the signified , which he takes to be a concept. The signifier, on his approach, is part of a larger unity—the unity of signifier and signified—which he terms a “sign”; see de Saussure (1959, 65–70). Since our focus here is the sign/signifier in the metaphysical context, these terms will be used interchangeably.

  6. 6.

    On the voice’s transparency in the phenomenological context, see too Derrida’s reading of Husserl’s distinction between an “expressive sign ,” which could be said to parallel speech , and an “indicative sign ,” which could be said to parallel writing. See Derrida (1973, 70–87).

  7. 7.

    See footnote 6 above.

  8. 8.

    Derrida’s discussion of Philebus is found in the second part (entitled “The Double Session”) of Dissemination (Derrida 1981, 175–93), where Derrida elaborates on the semantically ambiguous term “hymen,” including an extensive discussion of the concept of mimesis . Derrida juxtaposes Philebus to a short piece—Mimique—by the French symbolist poet Stéphane Mallarmé.

  9. 9.

    The relevant passage from Philebus is the following:

    [38e] Socrates: And if he had someone with him, he would put what he said to himself into actual speech addressed to his companion, audibly uttering those same thoughts, so that what before we called opinion has now become assertion.—Protagoras: Of course.—Socrates: Whereas if he is alone he continues thinking the same thing by himself, going on his way maybe for a considerable time with the thought in his mind.—Protagoras: Undoubtedly.—Socrates: Well now, I wonder whether you share my view on these matters.—Protagoras: What is it?—Socrates: It seems to me that at such times our soul is like a book.—Protagoras: How so?—[39] Socrates: It appears to me that the conjunction of memory with sensations, together with the feelings consequent upon memory and sensation, may be said as it were to write words in our souls . And when this experience writes what is true, the result is that true opinion and true assertions spring up in us, while when the internal scribe that I have suggested writes what is false we get the opposite sort of opinions and assertions.—Protagoras: That certainly seems to me right, and I approve of the way [b] you put it.—Socrates: Then please give your approval to the presence of a second artist in our souls at such a time.—Protagoras: Who is that?—Socrates: A painter, who comes after the writer and paints in the soul pictures of these assertions that we make.—Protagoras: How do we make out that he in his turn acts, and when?—Socrates: When we have got those opinions and assertions clear of the act of sight, or other sense, and as it were see in ourselves pictures or [c] images of what we previously opined or asserted. That does happen with us, doesn’t it?—Protagoras: Indeed it does.—Socrates: Then are the pictures of true opinions and assertions true, and the pictures of false ones false?—Protagoras: Unquestionably.—Socrates: Well, if we are right so far, here is one more point in this connection for us to consider.—Protagoras: What is that?—Socrates: Does all this necessarily befall us in respect of the present and the past, but not in respect of the future?—Protagoras: On the contrary, it applies equally to them all.—Socrates: We said previously, did we not, that pleasures and pains felt [d] in the soul alone might precede those that come through the body? That must mean that we have anticipatory pleasures and anticipatory pains in regard to the future.—Socrates: Now do those writings and paintings , which a while ago we [e] assumed to occur within ourselves, apply to past and present only, and not to the future?—Protagoras: Indeed they do.—Socrates: When you say ‘indeed they do,’ do you mean that the last sort are all expectations concerned with what is to come, and that we are full of expectations all our life long?—Protagoras: Undoubtedly.—Socrates: Well now, as a supplement to all we have said, here is a further question for you to answer. (Derrida 1981, 175)

  10. 10.

    Derrida (1981, 186, note 14) points out that “ mimesis ” has at least six different, and not necessarily negative, meanings in Plato’s writings.

  11. 11.

    Derrida claims that writing and painting are also similar in that both produce silent copies that cannot rebut their accusers and defend themselves. Moreover, the resemblance has etymological support: the word pharmakon —whose literal meaning is ‘potion,’ ‘drug,’ ‘remedy,’ ‘poison’—signifies writing in Plato’s parable, but can also mean color; see Derrida (1981, 129, 136–42).

  12. 12.

    Ancient Egyptian mythology links Theuth not only to writing, but also to pharmacy, healing, engineering ( techne ); to being an intermediary, messenger, interpreter, spokesperson, representative, substitute, usurper of the father–king; and to death; see Derrida (1981, 84–93).

  13. 13.

    Derrida quotes Plato’s myth of the origin of writing:

    Socrates : Very well. I heard, then, that at Naucratis in Egypt there lived one of the old gods of that country, the one whose sacred bird is called the ibis; and the name of the divinity was Theuth. It was he who first invented numbers and calculation, geometry and astronomy, not to speak of draughts and dice, and above all writing (grammata). Now the King of all Egypt at that time was Thamus who lived in the great city of the upper region which the Greeks call the Egyptian Thebes; the god himself they call Ammon. Theuth came to him and exhibited his arts and declared that they ought to be imparted to the other Egyptians. And Thamus questioned him about the usefulness of each one; and as Theuth enumerated, the King blamed or praised what he thought were the good or bad points in the explanation. Now Thamus is said to have had a good deal to remark on both sides of the question about every single art (it would take too long to repeat it here); but when it came to writing, Theuth said, “This discipline (to mathēma), my King, will make the Egyptians wiser and will improve their memories (sophōterous kai mnēmonikōterous): my invention is a recipe ( pharmakon ) for both memory and wisdom.” (Phaedrus 274b–e) (Derrida 1981, 75)

    But the king said, “Theuth, my master of arts (Ō tekhnikōtate Theuth), to one man it is given to create the elements of an art, to another to judge the extent of harm and usefulness it will have for those who are going to employ it. And now, since you are father of written letters (patēr ōn grammatōn), your paternal goodwill has led you to pronounce the very opposite (tounantion) of what is their real power. The fact is that this invention will produce forgetfulness in the souls of those who have learned it because they will not need to exercise their memories (lēthēn men en psuchais parexei mnēmēs ameletēsiai), being able to rely on what is written, using the stimulus of external marks that are alien to themselves (dia pistin graphēs exōthen hup’ allotriōn tupōn) rather than, from within, their own unaided powers to call things to mind (ouk endothen autous huph’ hautōn anamimnēskomenous). So it’s not a remedy for memory , but for reminding, that you have discovered (oukoun mnēmēs, alla hupomnēseōs, pharmakon hēures). And as for wisdom (sophias de), you’re equipping your pupils with only a semblance (doxan) of it, not with truth (alētheian). Thanks to you and your invention, your pupils will be widely read without benefit of a teacher’s instruction; in consequence, they’ll entertain the delusion that they have wide knowledge, while they are, in fact, for the most part incapable of real judgment. They will also be difficult to get on with since they will be men filled with the conceit of wisdom (doxosophoi), not men of wisdom (anti sophōn).” (Phaedrus 274e–275b) (Derrida 1981, 102)

  14. 14.

    Derrida claims that “memory and truth cannot be separated. The movement of alētheia is a deployment of mnēmē through and through” (Derrida 1981, 105).

  15. 15.

    On the connections between Plato’s concept of the Ideas and the notions of phusis and aletheia, see Heidegger (1998; 2000, 192–202).

  16. 16.

    Here Derrida seems to be referring to Heraclitus , Fragment 123, phusis kruptesthai philei, usually translated as “Nature loves to hide.” For Heidegger’s discussion of this fragment, see Heidegger (1991, 64).

  17. 17.

    See Chapter 2, Sect. 2.2.

  18. 18.

    Here too, as was the case vis-à-vis the writing—painting relation, Derrida emphasizes writing’s visual nature.

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Pimentel, D. (2019). The Dangers of Writing. In: Heidegger with Derrida . Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-05692-6_4

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