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Essential Works of Foucault (1954-1984) #2
Michel Foucault Aesthetics, Method, and Epistemology /anglais
'A magnificent, essential compendium, in the absence of which the man, the thinker and his thought would have been amputated, unfinished and incompletely understood' Liberation
Aesthetics offers a focused study on the philosophy, literature and other works of the imagination which have informed Foucault's particular engagement with ethics and power and includes Foucault's arresting commentaries on the work of de Sade, Rousseau, Marx, Nietzsche, Roussel and Boulez.
528 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1998
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May 28, 2024‘I was just a passerby held by affection, a certain perplexity, curiosity, the strange feeling of witnessing something I was incapable of being contemporaneous with—’
Don’t exactly know how I feel about this collection but I blame it on ‘tone’ and ‘style’ (is it a translation issue?). A lot of it feels ‘dated’ (unsurprisingly), and some of it feels too much like shallow, under-developed exploration/discussions. What the Fouc(ault)? I feel like I should feel silly for not liking this (enough), but then Baudrillard thinks he’s overhyped (not overhyped per say, but riddled with flaws and dated ideas), right? Maybe I should have done/gone with the writings of Baudillard-on-Foucault instead? I like his ravings on ‘space’ + architecture; but felt indifferent to his ramblings on art, prose/authorship, socio-politico ‘madness’, etc. (probably better written/edited in his other collection?).
‘The enormous work of Gaston Bachelard and the descriptions of the phenomenologists have taught us that we are living not in a homogeneous and empty space but, on the contrary, in a space that is laden with qualities, a space that may also be haunted by fantasy. The space of our first perception, that of our reveries, that of our passions harbours qualities that are all but intrinsic; it is a light, ethereal, transparent space, or rather a sombre, harsh, cluttered space. It is a space from on high, it is a space of peaks, or, on the contrary, it is a space from below, a space of mire, it is a space that can be fluid like running water, it is a space that can be fixed, solidified like stone or crystal.
And yet these analyses, though they are fundamental for contemporary reflection, are concerned primarily with internal space. I would like to speak now of the space outside [du dehors].
The space in which we are living, by which we are drawn outside ourselves, in which, as a matter of fact, the erosion of our life, our time, and our history takes place, this space that eats and scrapes away at us, is also a heterogeneous space in itself. In other words, we do not live in a kind of void, within which individuals and things might be located. We do not live in a void that would be tinged with shimmering colours, we live inside an ensemble of relations that define emplacements that are irreducible to each other and absolutely nonsuperposable.’
To be fair, did quite like his criticisms of Sade even though clearly under-developed, no? Felt too brief and simply done — almost as if he’s just dropping bombs of aphorisms.
‘You know that I am not for Sade’s absolute sacralization. After all, I would be willing to admit that Sade formulated an eroticism proper to a disciplinary society: a regulated, anatomical, hierarchical society whose time is carefully distributed, its spaces partitioned, characterised by obedience and surveillance.
It’s time to leave all that behind, and Sade’s eroticism with it. We must invent with the body, with its elements, surfaces, volumes, and thicknesses, a nondisciplinary eroticism–that of a body in a volatile and diffused state, with its chance encounters and unplanned pleasures. It bothers me that in recent films certain elements are being used to resuscitate through the theme of Nazism an eroticism of the disciplinary type. Perhaps it was Sade’s. Too bad then for the literary deification of Sade, too bad for Sade: he bores us. He’s a disciplinarian, a sergeant of sex, an accountant of the ass and its equivalents.’
But here is where he lost me as he goes on rambling about ‘art’, and praising Breton truckloads (and that sort of clashed with my own sentiments/thoughts about Breton, so that didn’t do anything for me). He seems to favour Sartre over Camus as well, so that’s another problem (for me).
‘I cannot dismiss the notion that the sorcery here lies in an operation rendered invisible by the simplicity of its result, but which alone can explain the vague uneasiness provoked. The operation is a calligram that Magritte has secretly constructed, then carefully unravelled. Each element of the figure, their reciprocal position, and their relationship derive from this process, annulled as soon as it has been accomplished.’
‘There is no doubt that the whole network connecting the works of Breton, Georges Bataille, Leiris, and Blanchot, and extending through the domains of ethnology, art history, the history of religions, linguistics, and psychoanalysis, are effacing the rubrics in which our culture classified itself, and revealing unforeseen kinships, proximities, and relations. It is very probable that we owe this new scattering and this new unity of our culture to the person and the work of André Breton. He was both the spreader and the gatherer of all this agitation in modern experience.’
‘No one, apparently, is further from Klee and Kandinsky than Magritte. More than any other his painting seems wedded to exact resemblances, to the point where they willfully multiply as if to assert themselves. It is not enough that the drawing of the pipe so closely resembles a pipe which in turn … and so on.’
The concluding chunk below (touching on Greek mythology) is admittedly sort of brilliant (even though I thought it could be better structured for a better/smoother delivery — why does he feel the need to make stuff sound more complicated than it is? Too many long sentences; repeat himself a bit too much. Can’t imagine someone who is less familiar/comfortable with the English language getting much out of the text. To me, this was a bit of a surprising disappointment knowing that the French/original text is supposed to be known for its ‘clarity’ and straightforward/uncomplicated delivery of ideas? A newer/better translation of the text would be fab.
‘Chronos is the time of becoming and new beginnings. Piece by piece, Chronos swallows the things to which it gives birth and which it causes to be reborn in its own time. This monstrous and lawless becoming–the endless devouring of each instant, the swallowing-up of the totality of life, the scattering of its limbs–is linked to the exactitude of rebeginning. Becoming leads into this great, interior labyrinth, a labyrinth no different in nature from the monster it contains. But from the depths of this convoluted and inverted architecture, a solid thread allows us to retrace our steps and to rediscover the same light of day. Dionysus with Ariadne: you have become my labyrinth. But Aeon is recurrence itself, the straight line of time, a splitting quicker than thought and narrower than any instant. It causes the same present to arise–on both sides of this indefinitely splitting arrow–as always existing, as indefinitely present, and as indefinite future. It is important to understand that this does not imply a succession of present instances which derive from a continuous flux and that, as a result of their plenitude, allow us to perceive the thickness of the past and the horizon of a future in which they, in turn, become the past. Rather, it is the straight line of the future that repeatedly cuts the smallest width of the present, that indefinitely recuts it starting from itself. We can trace this schism to its limbs, but we will never find the indivisible atom that ultimately serves as the minutely present unity of time (time is always more supple than thought). On both sides of the wound we invariably find that the schism has already happened (and that it had already taken place, and that it had already happened that it had already taken place), and that it will happen again (and in the future, it will happen again): it is less a cut than a constant fibrillation. Time is what repeats itself; and the present–split by this arrow of the future that carries it forward by always causing its swerving on both sides–endlessly recurs.’
April 24, 2023
long train journey = ample time to plough through foucault essays
October 7, 2020
I know I should probably like this important book, but I struggled with the essays because they were so challenging to read. Where I felt they were relevant to my thesis, I spent the extra time reading and re-reading several passages from some critical essays and felt (vaguely) rewarded. There were many interesting ideas; however, the difficulty is knowing whether or not I was correctly interpreting Foucault's material. So convoluted is his writing, with double negatives, and often pros and cons placed into single sentences, that even multiple re-readings can not guarantee a correct outcome. For example: "Therefore, fiction consists not in showing the invisible, but in showing the extent to which the invisibility of the visible is invisible." Eventually, I resigned myself to 'go for the ride' and let the words rush over me. As a result, the journey was like a ride in a convertible; fancy but frustrating. Many of Foucault's central ideas seemed to rush by in an exciting blur, but many more made me squint in annoyance.
In Language to Infinity, Foucault reviews gothic literature specifically and language in general. He raises the interesting idea of two contemporaneous versions of languages; one which is for communication (and is 'thin, grey, horizontal and finite') and a second which attempts to ward off inevitable decline, death and disappearance (and this language is 'vertical, reflective, fragile and infinite'). Foucault says, "they lie within each other, share the same dwelling, constantly intertwine, forming a single verbal network and, as it were, a forked language that turns against itself from within, destroying itself in its own body, poisonous in its very density."
A recurring theme in Foucault's essays is 'the other' or 'the outside'. It reminded me of Derrida, Baudrillard and Barthes who were all perhaps motivated by Blanchot's Literature-Space. "Literature," writes Foucault, "is not language approaching itself until it reaches the point of its fiery manifestation; it is, rather, language getting as far from itself as possible. And if, in this settling 'outside of itself,' it unveils its own being, the sudden clarity reveals not a folding-back but a gap, not a turning back of signs upon themselves but a dispersion." I'm not sure I understand it, but I believe that he means that language is fundamentally for communication. In contrast, literature uses language as if it were a tourist (to use Walter Benjamin's idea), or a hunter-gatherer sifting the wheat from the chaff, to find familiar ideas amongst unfamiliar words, or more importantly, unfamiliar ideas within familiar words.
Many of Foucault's topics deserved attention, including Nietche and Genealogy, The Order of Things, What is an Author, and his detailed analysis of Magritte's painting This is Not a Pipe. I did my best to trawl through all of these, and although I felt like a fisherman with a torn net, I did find some treasures in amongst his dark, discursive writings. For example, the evocative description of Surrealism: "the dreams of the German Romantics are the night illuminated by the light of wakefulness, whereas for Breton dreams are the unbreakable core of the night placed at the heart of the day." (Even if it does immediately conjure up Conrad's Heart of Darkness written 60 years previously).
Lastly, there are several neologisms in this book that are extremely useful. One is 'transdiscursive' which Foucault uses to explain how someone can be the author of more than a book, also a tradition, a theory or discipline. These authors create something that can then be used as a starting point for something else which can grow and be transformed as opposed to merely replicated. Marx and Freud he states, produced discursive initiations, whereas a novelist such as Ann Radcliffe birthed Gothic Literature, but later novels were all imitations rather than developments. Another term is 'heterotopias', which are places that both reflect and deflect reality. They can be illusory or compensatory. They both remember the time and deny it. Examples he includes are cemeteries, boarding schools, cruise ships, museums, libraries, carnivals, tourist resorts and zoos. Also, Persian carpets which reflect Persian gardens which reflected the Universe, making them "the smallest parcel of the world and the whole world at the same time."
Foucault is one of those philosophers that seems to have a finger in every pie, so, if time permits, I hope to come back to re-read sections of this book. In particular, his essay Theatrum Philosphicum in which he reviews Deleuze's work, and his interview on post-structuralism. In this interview, he criticises our modern 'facile' habit of always assuming and declaring that today's present must be a pivotal moment; "one of total perdition, in the abyss of darkness, or a triumphant daybreak."
Perhaps, if/when my understanding of epistemology improves, I will be in a better position to understand and re-review this book (and perhaps more favourably).
In Language to Infinity, Foucault reviews gothic literature specifically and language in general. He raises the interesting idea of two contemporaneous versions of languages; one which is for communication (and is 'thin, grey, horizontal and finite') and a second which attempts to ward off inevitable decline, death and disappearance (and this language is 'vertical, reflective, fragile and infinite'). Foucault says, "they lie within each other, share the same dwelling, constantly intertwine, forming a single verbal network and, as it were, a forked language that turns against itself from within, destroying itself in its own body, poisonous in its very density."
A recurring theme in Foucault's essays is 'the other' or 'the outside'. It reminded me of Derrida, Baudrillard and Barthes who were all perhaps motivated by Blanchot's Literature-Space. "Literature," writes Foucault, "is not language approaching itself until it reaches the point of its fiery manifestation; it is, rather, language getting as far from itself as possible. And if, in this settling 'outside of itself,' it unveils its own being, the sudden clarity reveals not a folding-back but a gap, not a turning back of signs upon themselves but a dispersion." I'm not sure I understand it, but I believe that he means that language is fundamentally for communication. In contrast, literature uses language as if it were a tourist (to use Walter Benjamin's idea), or a hunter-gatherer sifting the wheat from the chaff, to find familiar ideas amongst unfamiliar words, or more importantly, unfamiliar ideas within familiar words.
Many of Foucault's topics deserved attention, including Nietche and Genealogy, The Order of Things, What is an Author, and his detailed analysis of Magritte's painting This is Not a Pipe. I did my best to trawl through all of these, and although I felt like a fisherman with a torn net, I did find some treasures in amongst his dark, discursive writings. For example, the evocative description of Surrealism: "the dreams of the German Romantics are the night illuminated by the light of wakefulness, whereas for Breton dreams are the unbreakable core of the night placed at the heart of the day." (Even if it does immediately conjure up Conrad's Heart of Darkness written 60 years previously).
Lastly, there are several neologisms in this book that are extremely useful. One is 'transdiscursive' which Foucault uses to explain how someone can be the author of more than a book, also a tradition, a theory or discipline. These authors create something that can then be used as a starting point for something else which can grow and be transformed as opposed to merely replicated. Marx and Freud he states, produced discursive initiations, whereas a novelist such as Ann Radcliffe birthed Gothic Literature, but later novels were all imitations rather than developments. Another term is 'heterotopias', which are places that both reflect and deflect reality. They can be illusory or compensatory. They both remember the time and deny it. Examples he includes are cemeteries, boarding schools, cruise ships, museums, libraries, carnivals, tourist resorts and zoos. Also, Persian carpets which reflect Persian gardens which reflected the Universe, making them "the smallest parcel of the world and the whole world at the same time."
Foucault is one of those philosophers that seems to have a finger in every pie, so, if time permits, I hope to come back to re-read sections of this book. In particular, his essay Theatrum Philosphicum in which he reviews Deleuze's work, and his interview on post-structuralism. In this interview, he criticises our modern 'facile' habit of always assuming and declaring that today's present must be a pivotal moment; "one of total perdition, in the abyss of darkness, or a triumphant daybreak."
Perhaps, if/when my understanding of epistemology improves, I will be in a better position to understand and re-review this book (and perhaps more favourably).
April 10, 2019
He says little with a plurality of words...
April 30, 2011
Of the three-volume set of Foucault's multiform writings not published in his books (lectures, papers, essays, interviews et cetera), this is the strongest. Paul Rabinow, the editor, did a yeoman's job of selecting and organizing a real wealth of material and by allowing Foucault to simply come to us as himself, in full, via these varied writings we get a much clearer picture of who he was as a man and scholar. The writings in this book I think are in part so strong because we're used to reading Foucault's ideas about power, control, and sexuality—all issues he wrote about in depth and the ones, especially in the USA that are most-taught in theory courses. However, his writings on aesthetics and epistemology are superb and offer a way of seeing art and literature outside a typical arts historical view. As with the two other volumes in this series, the editing and graphic design are top-notch, providing a great setting for a variety of ideas. It's key to recall that Foucault's professorship and chair (to which he was appointed by no other than Hélène Cixous) was titled "history of ideas" and thats exactly how he approaches all topics here: what formulates an idea? What is an author? How do we know history? what methods form our epistemology?
September 28, 2019
3.5 stars for the first section on aesthetics, and about 45.5 stars for the second section on method and epistemology, which straight-up blew my mind.
August 3, 2011
i am sure that this book is useful to someone--however, it is incredibly not useful to me. these essays are more varied in their topics than the ones in volume one of the series. there's an essay toward the end of the collection, "Structuralism and Poststructuralism" that would lead one to believe from the title that it contains a good deal of reflection on these two topics. however, it doesn't really. it's more like an intellectual history of popular philosophical movements in france, and to a lesser degree other western countries, during the 1960s and 1970s. there's also a pretty great dictionary of philosophy entry on foucault written by foucault himself. this, to me, is definitely more of a book one should get from the library--rather than paying for it, like i did...
June 13, 2008
This is such a great way to understand and explore Foucault's ideas and work. The interviews with him elucidate his ideas so clearly and his sense of humor, depth of interest and eagerness to share his knowledge shine through
September 18, 2012
The part "what is an author" is a must-read
October 23, 2013
I LOVE this two-volume collection, I really do (especially the second one, focusing on aesthetics). But I still prefer the structure of Foucault's full books to these compilations.
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