I think I'd like to set Kafka and Wittgenstein, both of whom seem to have longed in different ways for a abrupt breaking-down of the self's presumptions and illusions (W. I think extends the problem of solipsism beyond "consciousness" and into language, although for god's sake don't hold me to this as I'm no expert, not even a beginner), apart from Keats who imagines rather a dissipation or softening of the self - something quite different. Why I prefer cannabis to flagellation, for instance, not that I've really tried flagellation. Beckett, too, ranges art against a self that is trapped, held firmly in place - tanks on one's inner lawn... > It seems to me that literary writing is inescapably violent: that in > order for writing to break down the legislative impulses of language, > some kind of violence must be done. This is to answer violence (the violence of the law, of the "legislative impulse") with violence (the violence of "transgression"). I can't deny that this is a very well-established literary scenario: differance or dialectic of force (see Nietzsche, Foucault, Bloom even...). Is it the only one available, though? Is literature not other than a weapon in the struggle of the individual consciousness against the dead weight of idees recus? This seems like something of an idee recu itself, to me at least. > Just as love is a violation of the > self's illusions of autonomy. This presupposes a self with illusions of autonomy. I wonder what love would be for a truly autonomous self, or a not-even-illusorily-autonomous self. What would it be like to love spontaneously, rather than in contravention of one's supposed inner law? A very hippy-ish, Reichian sort of question. Again, I find love vertiginous, confusing, but not violatory as such. I used to worry that love might be violatary as such, and of others in the first instance; it seemed to me to be a good reason to refrain from it. I still do think that if love were violatory of others, and it sometimes is, then that would be a good reason to refrain; and that sincerity or the sheer force of desire would never be a good enough reason not to refrain. People make excuses for themselves, and literature I might add is littered with such excuses, which are often lauded by readers as signs of the authors' "humanity" and "compassion". Not, you understand, humanity towards the violated, or much more than a nod towards compassion for them ("oh, you poor thing. It must be terrible hard to be on the sharp end of such a sincere and existentially rigorous desire. But the fact that you're now bleating about how badly you've been treated proves that you're a neurotic coward who had it coming - if you were the equal of our bold hero, you would instinctively recognise and sympathise with the necessity of his impulses"). Rather "humanity" and "compassion" towards the reader who needs to make excuses for himself, and who is relieved to find that others will make them for him... > Violence can be a neutral force: it is a human potential. Although > people tend to think of it as only negative, it is a force within all the > energies of our lives - within lovemaking, joy, birth. I cannot think of violence as a neutral force. It always carries some charge; it implies the existence of an enemy, somewhere. I wonder where the enemy is in lovemaking. Is it oneself or the other? Whom is one trying to kill? > > But I am speaking metaphorically of real things, which you seem to deny > Sade, though how you can take him literally, well, beats me. Because he literally flogged, poisoned, kidnapped, prostituted etc. etc. etc. - and then also metaphorically, with added flourishes of spectacular literary horror (which do not bother me nearly so much). I am not just talking about books, or forms of "consciousness". I'm talking about praxis, a way of going about things. Metaphors have their literal uses, although one may have to be slightly mad to be susceptible to them... Yet you > seem now also to be arguing for Sade against Kant, as having the superior > understanding of human violence. Kant avec Sade? Well, yes, I think Sade's understanding of human violence is at the very least a contender. Kant thought that some such thing as good will might be sufficient in itself to ground a moral system. Sade shows, in a phrase of Burroughs', "just how far human kicks can go", which as Steiner says kind of pulls up the rug from under Kant's providentialism. Evil can take the place of the absolute in Kant: it can be systematic, unopposable, shameless. Sade declares that one should do unto others the evil that one would have them do unto oneself in retribution, which is a kind of inverted categorical imperative - I think this is what Massu stands for in Steiner's anecdote. > I should say that violence, and the fear caused by violence, is to me no > abstract idea pulled out to gratify some morbid intellectual frisson. > One reason that I despise Andrea Dworkin. I don't think it's terribly abstract for her, either. Think of her as one of Sade's whores, answering back - as they never get to do in Sade himself, unless ventriloquised by him. Bataille has a bloody cheek calling Sade's "the language of the victim". What did Rose Keller ever write, eh? - Dom %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%