philosophy as not philosophy: para-ontology, hauntology, schizoanalysis

"Articulating the past historically does not mean recognizing it ‘the way it really was’. It means appropriating a memory as it flashes up in a moment of danger. Historical materialism wishes to hold fast that image of the past which unexpectedly appears to the historical subject in a moment of danger. The danger threatens both the content of the tradition and those who inherit it. For both, it is one and the same thing: the danger of becoming a tool of the ruling classes. Every age must strive anew to wrest tradition away from the conformism that is working to overpower it. The Messiah comes not only as the redeemer; he comes as the victor over the Antichrist. The only historian capable of fanning the spark of hope in the past is the one who is firmly convinced that even the dead will not be safe from the enemy if he is victorious. And this enemy has never ceased to be victorious."
- Walter Benjamin, Thesis VI

"The materialist doctrine concerning the changing of circumstances and upbringing forgets that circumstances are changed by men and that it is essential to educate the educator himself. This doctrine must, therefore, divide society into two parts, one of which is superior to society. The coincidence of the changing of circumstances and of human activity or self-changing can be conceived and rationally understood only as revolutionary practice."
- Karl Marx, Thesis III

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Enowning Heidegger

This is a paper I wrote for my metaphysics course, on Heidegger's concepts of 'ownness' and 'Enowning' [Ereignis]. It still needs a lot of work, Section 5 in particular, but I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. I know its written in a very Heideggerian voice, which was my professor's main criticism, but having already written several papers in which I tried to go beyond Heidegger without really finding myself in Heidegger, papers that turned out well but left me feeling overly ambitious, I wanted to dwell in his voice and follow his meandering articulation. Many of the refrains of this paper will show up again, in a different arrangement, in my next post, which will be my final paper for this course on the Eternal Return in Nietzsche and Deleuze.

...

One's Own Life

1.


Whatever direction seizes upon this question,

there will follow one's ownmost pursuit.


If one raises the question

in a call,

a cry,

out into the darkness, only

one's own voice

will return.


What of this return?

What returns is the resolve,

the courage to face the darkness,

to send the question

on its ownmost way.


Nothing more can speak in response.


It gives only the open,

the opening-ground,

the bursting cleavage of Be-ing,

from which may spring

a different life,

one's own life,

for the very first time.


2.

Thinking may follow the concerning question, and yet will wander lost if it cannot seize upon its ownmost way. One may think the question of the meaning of Being; one may be led to the unfolding openness of truth. One may study philosophy, after time become a philosopher, and someday, perhaps, abandon philosophy altogether. Yet thinking will be lost, it will fall prey, and it will find only illusions if it does not take hold of its own way forth. There is no way forward but through darkness, and so one should take heed: when you are lost, you won't know it; you will imagine you have found the right way, perhaps the only way; and yet you will wander on endlessly, unable to find your way, your own way. There is no way forward, but through darkness, and so one must discover, one must bring to light, one's ownmost way of Being. Otherwise, the question, concerning the truth of Being, will lead only into the abyss.



3.


What can this mean, to speak of thinking's own way, the way due to thinking by right? A primary, if not the paramount, impetus behind Martin Heidegger's works is to discover a way of thinking (and to thinking) that can leave metaphysics to itself.1 Metaphysics, and the whole of philosophy that has bowed before it, can only produce answer upon answer to whatever question thinking poses; and yet it cannot deliver to thinking that way of answering that would be thinking's own. Metaphysics can only pose thinking's essential question in an abstract, thematic way. It can only speak the question in a voice that is not one's own, in a public voice.2
These public words have, throughout the epochs, accumulated so many tangled and knotted senses that we can no longer hear that softness, that lightness, with which thinking gives them voice.

We must deliver thinking over to belonging, to the realm of its belonging: the realm in which thinking belongs, and which belongs to thinking. What could this belonging, this enowning3, mean or represent? Perhaps the question is poorly posed. Casting light on this belonging, and owning over to thinking its ownmost, was a life's work for Heidegger, and we should not expect to answer it hastily without falling prey to misunderstanding. And we might come to find that what we speak of as belonging has no affinity to representation, is not and cannot be represented. Its meaning is not something representable, but rather is only a question whose unfolding-opening reveals the luminous advent of the destiny of truth.


We must enable thinking to claim this question in its ownmost voice, and to enown the way to truth this claim opens.


We must enact thinking by owning over our words, those words we are already following, to the claim of Ereignis.


We must deliver thinking over to the giving, so that thinking will arrive at belonging.



4.


When we speak of owning and belonging, this first and foremost does not mean the ownership of a property or possession.4 It is not the ownership of an ontic thing, a being. If we follow the question of Being and avoid getting lost in the tangles of metaphysics, we will find that the truth of Being, and thus thinking's ownmost way to truth, cannot lie in beings. “Whenever a being is, be-ing [Seyn] must sway...From where else does thinking decide here if not according to the truth of be-ing? Thus be-ing can no longer be thought of in the perspective of beings; it must be enthought from within be-ing itself.”5 This is imperative. The belonging of thinking with Being in the advent of truth's destiny does not entail a belonging in the way a thing belongs to a person or people, be it private or public property. If we cannot think of owning and belonging otherwise than beings, ontic things as present-at-hand, then we will lose the way of thinking and of Being, and the sense of thinking, Being, man, time, and history will fall prey to metaphysics once more. “The attempt to think Being without beings becomes necessary because otherwise, it seems to me, there is no longer any possibility of explicitly bringing into view the Being of what is today all over the earth, let alone of adequately determining the relation of man to what has been called 'Being' up to now.”6


If we follow Heidegger's own way after the question, we find this sense of owning as early as the first approach of Being and Time. The Analysis of Dasein begins: “We ourselves are the entities to be analyzed. The Being of any such entity is in each case mine. These entities, in their Being, comport themselves towards their Being. As entities with such Being, they are delivered over to their own Being.”7 Moreover, this Being that is Dasein's own, is as such at issue for it. That is, Dasein's own Being is the matter of its essential questioning. Dasein poses the question concerning the meaning of Being, of its ownmost Being, and this questioning is Dasein's constitutive way of Being.8 “That Being which is an issue for this entity in its very Being, is in each case mine.”9 Heidegger says that this mineness leads us to ontically designate Dasein with the personal pronoun, 'I myself...', but that this should not mislead us. We may answer the 'who' of Dasein by responding 'I, myself, am Dasein', and yet this ontical answer only indicates the way to an ontological response, as long as we do not go beyond the mere formal, reflective sense of the 'I' as a conscious subject. We must grasp this ontical, reflective, 'subject' self as only an indication of a more primordial ontological Self, as 'only' a way of Being of Dasein. The ontological Self that 'owns', that has as its own, Dasein, is not physical substance, nor is it pure consciousness, but is rather existence itself.10


The danger confronting Dasein, in its constitutive questioning of its ownmost Being, is seen ontologically as its inability to distinguish what is its own, to answer the 'who' of Dasein: 'my own Self'; rather than 'one self ['they-self'] amongst Others'. Heidegger calls this danger 'inauthenticity', literally 'not-ownness' or 'un-ownness'.11 It arises whenever Dasein fails to distinguish itself from the 'Others', who are not definite, ontical others, but are in an existential sense those to whom Dasein's average, everyday actions are connected via equipment.12 Dasein loses its ownmost Self amongst the Others, and the 'who' is no longer answered with 'my own
Self', but rather as 'one' [das Man], 'anyone', 'nobody in particular'. Dasein becomes unable to claim what is its own, its ownmost Being, and its question is thereby led off course. It will no longer strive to discover the meaning of its ownmost Being, but will be content with the meaning that would satisfy anyone, actually satisfying nobody in particular. One can only think of one's self as 'anyone' amongst the Others. “When Dasein is absorbed in the world of its concern – that is, at the same time, in its Being-with towards Others – it is not itself.” “Every kind of priority gets noiselessly suppressed. Overnight, everything that is primordial gets glossed over as something that has long been well known.”13


5.


The question now becomes: how can Dasein seize what is its ownmost?


Insofar as Dasein is constituted by its questioning, it has understanding as its characteristic way of Being. It understands itself in its Being, in that it understands the possibility of meaning for that Being, and the possibility of questioning into that meaning for its way of Being.14 Dasein's absorbsion and dispersion in the 'they-self' leads it to lose hold on its ownmost possibilities, finding only those possibilities of 'anyone', 'nobody in particular'. Dasein cannot seize what is its ownmost: its way of Being as the projecting possibilities, its questioning into the meaning of its own Being, its ownmost Self. It becomes alienated from everything that is its own. “This alienation closes off from Dasein its authenticity ['ownness'] and possibility...”15 Understanding has the existential structure of 'projection', that is, Dasein can hold before itself its ownmost possibilities. This projection of possibilities makes up Dasein's ownmost way of Being, which is potentiality-for-Being. “Dasein is in every case what it can be, and in the way in which it is its possibility.”
16


The effect of alienation is that Dasein flees in the face of its ownmost possibilities. Dasein experiences anxiety in the face of its authentic potentiality-for-Being, which, as alienated, it finds as completely indefinite.17 Dasein confronts in anxiety its ownmost possibilities as indefinite, and thus has the chance to seize its authentic Self and escape from das Man, from understanding itself as 'nobody in particular'. “Anxiety makes manifest in Dasein its Being towards its ownmost potentiality-for-Being – that is, its Being-free for the freedom of choosing itself and taking hold of itself.”18 Yet there is as great a chance that Dasein, when confronted with anxiety, will retreat into the Others, failing to seize its ownmost. The outcome hinges on Dasein's attitude toward its own mortality, toward death.


No one can take the Other's dying away from him.”19 That is, one's death cannot be given up in dispersion amongst the Others, as each Other always has his own death as his own. “Death is a possibility-for-Being which Dasein itself has to take over in every case. With death, Dasein stands before itself in its ownmost potentiality-for-Being.”20 In anxiety, in which one's potentiality-for-Being is completely indefinite, Dasein may recognize in this indefinition its own death, as the possibility of no longer projecting any possibilities, the possibility of being unable to define one's possibilities any further. Death is, in this way, the possibility of the impossibility of any existence at all: not my own, and not anyone's.21 When Dasein finds itself anxious in the face of death, it can either seize its death as its ownmost possibility, that which cannot be outstripped, or it can evade owning up to this possibility, and attempt to pass it off on 'anyone'. This marks the crucial difference between authentic and inauthentic projection. If Dasein is to have its way of Being as its own, it must own up to the possibility that it may no longer exist at all. This is the recognition that anxiety in the face of death is not fear in the face of an ontic event that could 'happen to anyone', but is rather Dasein's defining ontological structure, enabling the possibility of its ownmost definition. No one else can die this death, my death, because only I have this existence, my existence, as my own, and so only I can confront its utter, singular, impossibility.22


In confronting its ownmost death, Dasein becomes resolved to have its possibilities as its own, refusing to yield them to conformity with those of 'anyone'. This is authenticity. In this way, Dasein holds itself open to the light, the truth, of its Being, rather than passively accepting whatever passes for anyone's truth. It “brings one without Illusions into the resoluteness of 'taking action.'”23 In the face of the anxiety that arises from fleeing from one's own self into the Others, and among them confronting one's own as absolutely indefinite, one recovers the joy of having one's own possibilities as absolutely singular and unstrippable. “Along with the sober anxiety which brings us face to face with our individualized potentiality-for-Being, there goes an unshakable joy in this possibility.”24



6.


Yet we still must attempt to think of the ownmost belonging free of any being, even Dasein. We must allow Being to claim its ownmost truth as we unfold our questioning, and this obliges us to follow the giving of Being itself, free of the gift of Dasein's there. This giving is not only that by which Being is given, but that in which Being will claim what is its own, that is, its truth. Heidegger speaks of this giving in terms of the 'It gives...', Es gibt. “As the gift of this It gives, Being belongs to giving. As a gift, Being is not expelled from giving.”25 Being is a gift, insofar as it lets beings presence; it is the gift of their presence. But it is also a part of the giving insofar as it is the presencing itself, which is not a property of beings, given along with them, but rather belongs to giving. “Being, presencing is transmuted.”26 Heidegger says later that the giving of presence, which is presencing, does not belong to the gift that reaches us, but that the giving is the reaching concealed in the gift. “Does this giving lie in this, that it reaches us, or does it reach us because it is in itself a reaching? The latter.”27 The giving holds itself back, conceals itself, in the gift it gives and unconceals. Thus, metaphysics thinks Being in terms of beings that are given, but misses the sense in which 'It gives Being', in which Being is only in and of the concealed giving itself.28


Heidegger tells us that Being's belonging, be it with time,29 or with man and thought,30 is determined by this concealed giving, which he calls Ereignis, 'en-owning'. “What determines both, time and Being, in their own, that is, in their belonging together, we shall call: Ereignis...”31
Yet we must not misunderstand the sense of 'belonging together'. This does not mean that time is a property of Being, is thus determined by Being, any more than the reverse. That man and Being belong together does not mean that one determines the other. These would take on the sense of a belonging together, in which the belonging of the elements is determined by the unified order they form. We must instead look to the sense of belonging together, meaning that the 'together' is determined by the 'belonging'.32 The specificity of this will become clear in a moment.

Man belongs to Being, man is Being's own, in that man as Dasein is always questioning after the meaning of Being, and responds to the question as long as its Being is its own, authentically. “[M]an's distinctive feature lies in this, that he, as the being who thinks, is open to Being, face to face with Being; thus man remains referred to Being and so answers to it...A belonging to Being prevails within man, a belonging which listens to Being because it is appropriated [owned over] to Being.”33 Yet at the same time, Being belongs to man, is man's own, in that man is open to Being's presencing and can receive the gift of presence. “Being is present and abides only as it concerns man through the claim it makes on him. For it is man, open toward Being, who alone lets Being arrive as presence. Such becoming present needs the openness of a clearing, and by this need remains appropriated [owned over] to human being.”34


In order to think the sense of this mutual belonging that determines the togetherness, the constellation, of man and Being, of time and Being, of thought and Being...we must leave behind the given and well known sense of these. We must 'spring' away from the rigid, metaphysically well-worn possibilities of these terms, out into the darkness.35 Yet if we must leave behind not only time as a linear passage of ‘nows’, and man as a rational animal, but also Being as the ground of beings, where will we arrive but the abyss of darkness? If we have this spring, this projection, as our ownmost possibility as thinkers, then we will be enowned by, we will find our belonging in, the concealed giving itself: Ereignis, enowning, giving-belonging. If we call resolutely into the darkness, we will be claimed by the giving-belonging of Ereignis. We will arrive at the belonging of Being and man, Being and time, as the active essence [Wesen] of thought,36 which finds their identity in giving. Being as the self-identity of present beings, time as the succession of self-identical 'nows', man as the identity of his self, can be thought as such,37
and authentically thought otherwise, only in and of the giving-belonging that gathers them and holds them together in unconcealing-sending:

Ereignis
.



7.


The giving-belonging of Ereignis does not pertain to something owned, something that can be given or appropriated, some property or possession. It speaks only of the possibility of giving and of belonging that wells up in and exceeds every being that is given and belongs in the order of a unifying 'together'. It speaks not of appropriation of property, but of the possibility of Being appropriate, well-suited, fitting. It speaks of 'owning' not in the sense of something I own that I can exchange or dispossess, but in the sense of that which is my ownmost, that which I can not give up, that which cannot be given because it is purely giving as such. It speaks of that which I cannot leave, for my disappearance in death is at once its disappearance as well: a life that is my own. We give one another, we belong to one another; I am no more its keeper than it is my keeper, but we are in keeping with one another. We, together – man and Being, man and Being and time, man and Being and time and thought – are only a giving, a belonging, with no owner or owned.


Enowning, Ereignis.




Notes:


1TB 24
2On 'publicness', see: EBW 235
3Where I have chosen to translate Ereignis, I do so as 'enowning', following the translators of the Contributions to Philosophy (From Enowning). See CP xix-xxii. I will, for the most part, leave it untranslated.
4CP xx
5CP 5. on the translation of Seyn as 'be-ing', see xxii-xxiii
6OTB 2
7EBW 219-20 (emphasis: bold is mine, italics is Heidegger's. This scheme will continue throughout, unless otherwise noted.)
8EBW 213-4
9EBW 220
10EBW 231-2
11EBW 234-5. “The Self of everyday Dasein is the they-self, which we distinguish from the authentic Self...”
12EBW 232
13EBW 233, 235
14EBW 213-4
15EBW 239
16EBW 242
17EBW 243-5
18EBW 245
19EBW 247
20Ibid.
21EBW 250
22EBW 249-51
23EBW 254
24Ibid.
25OTB 6
26Ibid.
27OTB 13
28OTB 8
29OTB 19
30ID 30
31OTB 19
32ID 29
33ID 31
34Ibid.
35ID 32
36ID 39
37ID 32


References:

All works by Martin Heidegger


EBW – Selections from Being and Time, trans. Macquarrie and Robinson, in Existentialism: Basic Writings. Guignon and Pereboom, eds. Second Edition. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2001.


OTB – On Time and Being. trans. Joan Stambaugh. New York: Harper & Row, 1972.


CP – Contributions to Philosophy (From Enowning). trans. Emad and Maly. Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1999.


ID – Identity and Difference. trans. Joan Stambaugh. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1969.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Lacan, Proust, Woolf

This is my final paper for the course I took on Lacan, Proust, and Woolf. It's my first time writing on Lacan and I by no means have a strong grasp of this thought, so if there are any mistakes or confusions or anything, let me know.

...


A Different Subject, A Subject of Difference


We are subjects. As such, we are subjected to the world. Our experience, our knowledge, our very thought is inseparable from this subjection. Must we then resign ourselves to despair, for being hopelessly imprisoned within subjectivity, only ever capable of glimpsing the Real with the forlorn eyes of a prisoner glimpsing the light of day through the barred window of a cell?

~

We are subjects, but first and foremost, we are.

We are subjects, and as such, our way of being is subjectivity. The Real, for us, is constituted through this way of being; it is constituted as subjective. By speaking in this way, we shift the problem: it is no longer the case that we are limited by subjectivity, trapped within it as its denigrated essence. We no longer think of ourselves, our very being, as in principle capable of attaining the Real in itself, though denied this perfection by the immobilizing chains of our subjectivity.

Rather, we must begin to think otherwise. What could it mean when we say that the Real is constituted, composed, created for us in this way? The Real can no longer be thought to preexist, as transcendent and apart from our existence – adrift in a world of change, of production and dissolution, life and death. The Real is no longer a world apart from our own, apart from the cruelty, the violence, the precariousness of our situation; untouched, pristine, divine. We should no longer dwell on an impossible desire to escape this precarious existence into the eternal, into a direct relation with the Real.

Subjectivity is our very way of being, it is in this way that we exist, that we are something that exists. Our existence maintains a certain minimum of consistency and stability, a ground or condition. Condition here does not mean an extrinsic form imposed upon some inert docility, securing dependence and limitation, like shackles and chains. Condition must obtain the sense of a mode of being or of life, a way of being and living. It relates immediately to the process of genesis of existence, which is the ground which any form whatsoever presupposes, as the foundations of a structure presuppose the earth upon which they are lain.

Subjectivity is the very constitution of our existence, be it a fragile constitution. This 'something', this ground or support, this composition or 'makeup', must itself be thought in terms of the process of its genesis, and no longer as some extrinsic and preexistent form of possibility such that any direct experience of the Real is excluded as impossible. We said above that the Real is constituted for us, and this remark will only make sense if we understand ourselves, 'we', in terms of this constitution: the minimum support necessary for the process through which the Real is constituted, which is ultimately inseparable from the process itself.

In this sense, we are able to think ourselves and our relation to the Real such that we are the modes, the conditions, the ways in which the Real is constituted as such. The constitution of my existence is rendered by virtue of the process through which my relation to the Real is constituted, and I am ultimately nothing more than this processual relation. As the Real is constituted for us, we are this constitution and nothing else.

~

If one thinks of the concrete constitution of one's existence, this implies many things. We think of the body, itself nothing more than a multiplicity of organs, tissues, cells, fluids, systems, signals, etc., arranged in a certain way. One thinks of one's social situation, inseparable from a multiplicity of other people, family members and friends, acquaintances and strangers, enemies and lovers; inseparable as well from a multiplicity of physical elements, geographic, ecological, and man-made structures; and of course, sociality is inseparable from concrete discourse, which depends upon the enormous multiplicity of differential elements of articulation and designation that make up language. One thinks of one's so-called 'inner experience', which is inseparable from a multiplicity of sensations, memories, thoughts, passions, prerogatives, shifting relations with the 'outside'.

All of this points to one thing: there is no 'one thing' that is one's self; rather, oneself is itself generated in and of a multiplicity of things belonging to various registers, brought together and agglomerated, composed, constituted in a certain fashion, such that a minimum of stability and consistency endures. 'Oneself' is only ever said of several things. This coherence or consistency is then what we will call subjectivity; even prior to consciousness, conscious experience, the subject is said of the unconscious as that which grounds any experience, but which is irreducible to that which, in us, is inert and incapable of experience, the bare materiality of our makeup, the objective dimension of our existence. In fact, the unconscious, as this minimum consistency, is the condition, the ground, of the 'objective' or 'material' dimension no less than of consciousness and the faculties of cognition.

The unconscious is not simply that which is 'not conscious' within us. Rather, it is that element of the subject, of subjectivity, which grounds the subject's conscious experience, and subjectivity thereby takes on a more profound sense than simple consciousness. Consciousness must be unified in space and through time, depending on the identical self-relation of the one who is conscious, such that I know I am the one who has different experiences, and I know it is the same 'I' that endures throughout the flux of experience. Yet the unconscious is inseparable from a multiplicity that has no preestablished unity, and so rests on an original division, a split or scission, a 'relation of non-relation' as Kierkegaard says.

~

Lacan is a thinker of the utmost profundity if only because he was able to think of this scission as such, as the ground of any experience, without relating it back to some preestablished unity. For Lacan, the subject is always split, divided against itself, and the minimal consistency that relates different registers across a schism – for him, primarily the register of the body with the register of language – is precisely that of the unconscious. By drawing on Freud and Saussure, he develops an account of the process of genesis of this consistency, of the unconscious, which is inseparable from the consistution of the Real as such. In this way, we essentially relate to the Real through the structuration of the unconscious which constitutes the Symbolic register of language, and through the mediation of Imaginary doubles. The Real has no sense apart from these registers, and we are only in the sense that we are constituted in and through these registers, maintaining thereby a primordial relation to the Real. Though it may be inaccessible to conscious experience, apart from the brief glimpses we receive when there appear cracks in the facade, subjectivity in a more profound sense is the way in which, for us, the Real is constituted as such through the Imaginary and Symbolic registers. This way of existing, this way in which we are capable of existing at all, this genetic mode of constitution, is the unconscious.

For Lacan, the unconscious is itself inseparable from language, that is, from the signifiers or sound-images that make up language. This 'make-up' composed of signifiers is itself entirely differential, that is, signifiers are only related through their difference from one another, they exist only insofar as they are articulated.1 In this way, concrete discourse is always made up of a multiplicity of signifiers, strung together in statements as 'signifying chains', that are meaningful only by virtue of the differential relations between them. The meaning of any given statement or series of statements is thereby intrinsic to the differential structure of the signifying chains that compose them; meaning insists in the chain as the differentiation that defines it. “Whence we can say that it is in the chain of the signifier that meaning insists, but that none of the chain's elements consists in the signification it can provide at that very moment.”2 The consistency of the chain, the very linking that holds these differences together and in which meaning insists, does not derive from a correspondence with the concepts signified; we must look elsewhere.

What is the source of the consistency of the differential elements of language, if not the fundamental consistency of the natural world of which we speak? What allows meaning to insist in signifying chains, if not a logical consistency that derives from reference to the empirical world, already itself wholly consistent? The problem with these questions is they fail to recognize that, for us, the 'natural' world signified in concrete discourse is inseparable from its signification: the signified is produced as such through the action of signifying chains that enter it and structure it, endowing it with an intelligibility by introducing a differentiation or disjunction. “[I]t is Freud's discovery that gives the signifier/signified opposition its full scope: for the signifier plays an active role in determining the effects by which the signifiable appears to succumb to its mark, becoming, through that passion, the signified.”3

Lacan demonstrates this differentiation of the signifier that shapes the signified with the example of restroom doors, being on all accounts identical until a signifier, 'gentlemen' or 'ladies', enters into its material constitution to make it what it is. “The point is not merely to silence the nominalist debate with a low blow, but to show how the signifier in fact enters the signified – namely, in a form which, since it is not immaterial, raise the question of its place in reality.”4 If the signifier shapes the signified by introducing disjunction, it is through this function that it grants meaning to the experience of the situation signified. The meaning that insists in the signifying chain itself is thereby attributed or ascribed to the signified it shapes, but not without first being inscribed in the signified. This inscription constitutes the signified as such by enabling a disjunction, in other words, by making material reality 'differ from itself', so to speak, and it is this function that produces meaning (sens) in the structure of signification. The disjunction produced by this inscription is precisely what endows signifying chains with their consistency, and more profoundly, what endows the structure of signification itself (signifier/signified) with the consistency of meaning (sens).

This disjunction is precisely what we have already called the unconscious. “Starting with Freud, the unconscious becomes a chain of signifiers that repeats and insists somewhere (on another stage or in a different scene, as he wrote), interfering in the cuts offered it by actual discourse and the cogitation it informs.”5 Wherever there appear 'cuts' or inconsistencies in signification, the unconscious presents itself, it insists as the disjunction that itself produces meaning. Yet these sights of disjunction do not simply involve a signifier (in the above example, 'restroom door') whose signified remains indeterminate (as regards gender) without reference to another signifier (either 'gentlemen' or 'ladies'). Prior to the actual disjunction between, say, the differently gendered restrooms, there is a purely formal or 'virtual' disjunction that is not between two terms or things, but which is presupposed by such actual cases of disjunction. This formal or formative disjunction is that from which the actual things in disjunction are differentiated as such, that which thereby shapes and structures the signified, granting it the attribution of meaning, and which gives consistency to the signifying chains in which that meaning insists. Thus, the formal or formative disjunction is primarily that between the signifier and the signified as such, determining their relation as the consistency of meaning that produces them both.

Hence, the 'cuts' in the signifying chain that correspond to a differentiation in the signified, and that realize the formative disjunction of signifier and signified, are the source of the consistency of meaning or sense (sens), in that it is here that the unconscious asserts itself. This is thus where we find the unconscious subjectivity of which we spoke at the outset. “The cut made by the signifying chain is the only cut that verifies the structure of the subject as a discontinuity in the real. If linguistics enables us to see the signifier as the determinant of the signified, analysis reveals the truth of this relationship by making holes in meaning the determinants of its discourse.”6 Subjectivity is thus a 'discontinuity in the real', an original and formative disjunction, from which the consistency of sense and the continuity of signifying chains in concrete discourse derive.

How then do we account for the genesis of this subjectivity? Lacan does so by reconceiving Freud's own account in terms of linguistics. He locates this disjunctive relation between signifier and signified as the effect of a 'bar', a signifier without a signified that separates all signifiers as such from any direct relationship with the signified, and this function is precisely that of the Freudian 'phallus'. “For the phallus is a signifier...the signifier that is destined to designate meaning effects as a whole, insofar as the signifier conditions them by its presence as signifier.”7 This function is conceived in terms of the child's introduction into language. The child, confronted by the speech of the Other, usually exemplified in the mother, knows this other as the source of satisfaction of its every need, and hence is driven to articulate its need to the Other. “'Other' [designates] the very locus evoked by recourse to speech in any relation in which such recourse plays a part.”8 Yet the signifiers the Other provides do not yet have any significance; they are without signified. So the child can only articulate its demand through the signifiers it imagines that the Other desires to hear. Language does not serve originally to signify a specific need, but rather to articulate the primordial need for the love of the Other, that is, to be the complete object of the Other's desire, and thereby to have every need satisfied. “Demand already constitutes the Other as having the 'privilege' of satisfying needs, that is, the power to deprive them of what alone can satisfy them. The Other's privilege here thus outlines the radical form of the gift of what the Other does not have – namely, what is known as its love.”9

This formulation of the demand alienates the child from its needs. In the signifiers it articulates as the demand, it is not any need that takes precedence, but rather the alienated form of need itself as the need for the Other to satisfy every need, the need to be the object of the Other's desire. “In this way, demand annuls (aufhebt) the particularity of everything that can be granted, by transmuting it into a proof of love, and the very satisfactions demand obtains for need are debased (sich erniedrigt) to the point of being no more than the crushing brought on by the demand for love...”10 Yet there is no demand the child can make that will fulfill this primal need for love, and so it takes on the repressed form of desire. Just as the child is unable to articulate itself such that it would become the object of the Other's desire, hence rendering this desirable unarticulable, the primal need the subject is unable to formulate as demand becomes its own desire. “What is thus alienated in needs constitutes [a primal repression], as it cannot, hypothetically, be articulated in demand; it nevertheless appears in an offshoot that presents itself in man as desire.”11 The phallus is thus that signifier without a signified, that impossible articulation of desire; both the impossible articulation that is the object of the Other's desire, and the impossible demand that would articulate the subject's own desire.

The articulation of specific needs is possible only after this essentially insatiable demand, this signifier that 'designates meaning effects as a whole'. This structure, which divorces all signifiers, all articulations, from that which they articulate, separating them through the unsurpassable gap of desire for love, makes any signification, and thereby language itself, possible. “For the unconditionality of demand, desire substitutes the 'absolute' condition: this condition in fact dissolves the element in the proof of love that rebels against the satisfaction of need. This is why desire is neither the appetite for satisfaction nor the demand for love, but the difference that results from the subtraction of the first from the second, the very phenomenon of their splitting (Spaltung).”12 Desire as this difference, this remainder, is what constitutes the subject as such. It splits the signifier from the signified, as that unavoidable gap, that original discontinuity or disjunction that constitutes them and holds them together in their very difference, inscribing the signifier in the signified itself. Because the child has learned that it cannot possess the phallus, it cannot eliminate this remainder of desire, it is able to constitute itself as the source of the disjunctive tension of language. This desire forms the unconscious, which asserts itself in the cuts, gaps, breaks, inconsistencies in signifying chains, paradoxically holding them together and assuring their consistency in disjunction.

It is thus the desire constitutive of the subject that is the source of the disjunctive consistency of its multiplicitous components, both the material elements signified and the signifiers that differentiate them and structure them as such. The multiplicity of signifiers, always gathered in signifying chains, have two modes through which they become consistent and thereby constitute the signified.
What is at issue is to refind – in the laws that govern this other scene (ein anderer Schauplatz), which Freud, on the subject of dreams, designates as the scene of the unconscious – the effects that are discovered at the level of the chain of materially unstable elements that constitutes language: effects that are determined by the double play of combination and substitution in the signifier, according to the two axes for generating the signified, metonymy and metaphor; effects that are determinant in instituting the subject.13
Metonymy and metaphor are the two dimensions of the multiplicity of signifiers arranged in signifying chains, the dimension of combination or conjunction of signifiers and the dimension of substitution or disjunction, respectively. Metonymy is literally the contiguous connections of several associated signifiers that thereby constitute the fleshed out identity of the signified. Lacan uses the example of signifying an unknown number of ships by referring to them as 'thirty sails'. The signifier of a part ('sail') is intelligible only in terms of its conjunction with the signifier of the whole ('ship'), and it is this conjunction that makes the signifying chain consistent. “This shows that the connection between ship and sail is nowhere other than in the signifier, and that metonymy is based on the word-to-word nature of this connection.”14 Metonymy thus functions by relating a signifier to other signifiers with which it is associated, thereby involving an implicit combination of signifiers.

Metaphor, on the contrary, involves a substitution of one signifier for another where said signifiers do not bear any direct association. “Metaphor's creative spark does not spring forth from the juxtaposition of two images, that is, of two equally actualized signifiers. It flashes between two signifiers, one of which has replaced the other by taking the other's place in the signifying chain, the occulted signifier remaining present by virtue of its (metonymic) connection to the rest of the chain.”15 When a signifier is thus replaced by another unassociated, dissimilar signifier, they enter a relation of disjunction such that the replaced or occulted signifier persists as an empty place in the metonymic chain of connection, while the substituted signifier 'stuffs' the signified, constituting it purely through the differences it introduces. The displaced signifier thereby leads to the revelation that the signified itself was only ever blank, a void, an empty space, given form exclusively by signifying chains connected to its signifier. The substituted signifier can thus 'cross the bar' between signifier and signified, entering the void to disguise it with a difference. This void is the sight of the pure disjunction of the subject's desire, a pure difference that is not yet the difference between terms. The difference is only bound, realized, when a metaphor effectively disguises the void with an unassociated signifier, thus constituting the subject as the difference between itself and this signifier. “Thus it is between a man's proper name qua signifier and the signifier that metaphorically abolishes it that the poetic spark is produced... We see that metaphor is situated at the precise point at which meaning is produced in nonmeaning...and at which it becomes palpable that, in deriding the signifier, man defies his very destiny.”16

Metonymy functions through the conjunction of associated signifiers, whereas metaphor functions by revealing the originary disjunction of the subject as the source of all signification. The former explains the consistency of necessarily finite signifying chains, whereas the latter exposes the source of consistency for any chain whatsoever. We can see these function demonstrated in some examples from literature. Take, for instance, Marcel's encounter with a sleeping Albertine in The Prisoner. When she is awake, Marcel is mercilessly consumed by jealousy, paranoia, and distrust, obsessed with discovering the 'real' Albertine, the one she hides from him, the one involved in worlds, relations, loves, that he will never access. Yet when he finds her in his room, already sleeping on his bed, his disposition changes entirely.
Lying at full length on my bed, in a pose so natural that it could never have been adopted deliberately, she seemed to me like a long, flowering stem that had been laid there; and that was what she was: normally I could dream only when she was not there, but at these times the power of dreaming returned as I lay next to her, as if in her sleep she had turned into a plant. In that way her sleep realized, to a certain degree, the promise of love; when I was alone, I could think about her, but she was not there, she was not mine. When she was there, I could speak to her, but was too removed from myself to be able to think. When she was asleep, I did not have to speak any more, I knew that she could not see me, I did not have to live on the surface of myself. By closing her eyes, by losing consciousness, Albertine had put off, one by one, the various marks of humanity which had so disappointed me in her, from the day that we first met. She was animated only by the unconscious life of plants, of trees, a life more different than my own, stranger, and yet which I possessed more securely.17
Marcel is incessantly disturbed by Albertine when she is awake, unable to 'possess' her completely; she is never his, she is always removed from him. Yet when she is asleep, Marcel is able to 'possess her' securely, not because he has finally gained access to her whole and complete self, but rather because he can understand her 'real self' as empty, as no more than a void or incompleteness. Thus he is able to compose her anew, as a plant, a flowering stem, disguising this empty space with an unassociated chain of signifiers that thereby shape her substantial being. Through this becoming-plant, this metaphorical substitution, Marcel realizes that Albertine has no 'real self' apart from the disguise itself; she is no more than this empty place that is revealed in when the signifier 'plant' replaces the signifier 'Albertine'. Only through the function of metaphor does he truly obtain her, the Real of Albertine; “Her life was subject to me...”18

Of course, Albertine's (empty) place is still construed in relation to the metonymic conjunction of associated signifiers, such as the parts of her body, and even her body itself. This empty place, this pure disjunction that is the subject, subsists in the constellation of multiple material elements signified: her breath, her hair, her face, her eyelids, her lips, her hand;19 but she isn't any of these elements, which bear only a metonymic connection to her subjectivity. Her unconscious subjectivity is revealed to Marcel, and he is able, if only fleetingly, to possess the Real Albertine, only through the metaphoric disjunction. This disjunction that precedes the alternating terms and that endows their dissociative connection with a consistence sense, revealed in metaphor, is precisely the unconscious subjectivity that we have been pursuing. Marcel is able to possess her not simply because he has unbarred access to her body, but rather because he is able to grasp that she is no more her body and its multiplicitous worldly associations than she is a plant, a watch, an animal, or a musical instrument:
I could take her head, tip it back, place it against my lips, put my arms round her neck, she went on sleeping like a watch that never stops, like an animal that goes on living whatever position you put it in, like a climbing plant, a convolvulus that goes on throwing out branches whatever kind of support you give it. Only her breathing was affected by each of my touches, as if she had been an instrument I was playing and from which I drew new chords by producing from one and then another of its strings a variety of notes. My jealousy was being calmed, for I felt that Albertine had become a creature of respiration and nothing more, as was shown by her regular breathing, the expression of this purely physiological function, which in its fluidity lacks the consistency of either speech or silence; lacking all knowledge of evil, this sound, which seemed to be drawn from a hollow reed rather than a human being, was truly heavenly for me who at those moments felt Albertine removed from everything, not just materially but morally; it was the pure song of the Angels. And still in this breathing, I would suddenly say to myself, human names, the residue of memory, must be suspended.20
When asleep before him, she is 'removed from everything'; her materiality, her name, memories of her, all must be suspended; she becomes no more than that empty place disguised by a body, a name, or traits of a plant, a watch, an animal, a song; the Real Albertine shines through as only the disjunction between the various disguises, with nothing beneath these masks but a pure difference, “a life more different” than Marcel's own.

Virginia Woolf's The Waves provides another exemplary case. Not only is every character composed solely through his or her articulations in signifying chains, but nearly every paragraph reveals the constitution of the subject through the play of metaphor and metonymy. Take the character of Susan. She is made consistent throughout the book through the repetition of multiple themes that make up metonymic connections with her environment and situation: the earth, burial, hardness, juxtaposed against light, birds, flight. “I looked between the leaves and saw her. She danced in flecked with diamonds light as dust. And I am squat, Bernard, I am short. I have eyes that look close to the ground and see insects in the grass. The yellow warmth in my side turned to stone when I saw Jinny kiss Louis. I shall eat grass and die in a ditch in the brown water where dead have rotted.”21 Jinny is metaphorically disguised as light and dancing, against which Susan distinguishes herself, metaphorically “turned to stone”.

Later, she expresses her frustration at time in school through her destruction of the pages of a calendar: “I have torn them off and screwed them up so that they no longer exist, save as a weight in my side. They have been crippled days, like moths with shriveled wings unable to fly.”22 It is not simply the days themselves, but their existence as instances of her subjectivity, that is disguised as “moths with shriveled wings”, unable to attain their imperative of flying toward the light. Susan never ceases to draw herself through metaphors with ever greater complexity. As she grows older and develops a strong distaste for the city life she had in school, she begins to find herself in the countryside and life without that rigid segmentation and regimentation: “At this hour, this still early hour, I think I am the field, I am the barn, I am the trees...I am the seasons, I think sometimes, January, May, November, the mud, the mist, the dawn. I cannot be tossed about, or float gently, or mix with other people. Yet now leaning here, till the gate prints my arm, I feel the weight that has formed itself in my side. Something has formed, at school, in Switzerland, some hard thing.”23 Susan literally has no existence in the novel apart from the play of metaphors, the disguises she takes up, be they of the cold, damp, hard earth, the passing seasons and the countryside, the crippled moth, or the hardening source of light in her side. It is the disjunction of her unconscious subjectivity, and the repetitions of its metaphoric disguises, that maintains the consistency of her character throughout the story.

Proust and Woolf provide exemplary instances of the play of metonymy and metaphor, and are among the finest examples of 'the poet' as Lacan conceives this figure. “[I]f you are a poet you will make it into a game and produce a continuous stream, nay, a dazzling weave of metaphors.”24 More importantly, they demonstrate the way in which subjectivity in the most profound sense is nothing more than such a “dazzling weave of metaphors”, the consistency of which is the effect of unconscious desire as an originary and formative disjunction or discontinuity, a pure difference which endows the most diverse and dissociated terms with a minimum stability or ground. It is on the ground of discontinuity that signifying chains become consistent and sense can thereby insist in them. Sense is the pure effect of the 'empty place' of the subject, the genetic disjunction that conditions every metonymic conjunction. It is precisely this empty place, this 'desire as lack', that is the Real. When we said that the real is constituted through subjectivity, that the Real as such is subjective, this should not be taken to mean that everything exists only in our conscious experiences and contingent conceptions. Rather, it means that the unconscious core that grounds every conscious experience, the primordial lack or loss that is desire, the 'empty place of the subject', is the Real as such, and there is no sense of the Real other than this. The Real is thus 'meaningless', nonsense, but that nonsense in which all sense, all meaning, is produced as the subjectivity of a life.

~


Notes:

1E 144
2E 145
3E 274
4E 143
5E 286
6E 288
7E 275
8Ibid.
9E 276
10Ibid.
11E 275
12E 276
13E 274-5
14E 148
15Ibid.
16E 149-50
17P 59-60
18P 60
19P 61
20P 100
21W 15
22W 53
23W 97-8
24E 148-9


References:

E - Lacan, Jacques. Ecrits, A Selection.
P - Proust, Marcel. The Prisoner.
W - Woolf, Virginia. The Waves.