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272 pages, Paperback
First published February 7, 2023
“If sovereignty is that miraculous moment in which the subject expires before itself, and expires from the enjoyment of expiring, at what point does life become sovereign, and therefore resistant? Bataille never provides us with an answer. Rather life alone is what transgresses (itself), and what resists its own reactive appropriation as death. But from this perspective, let us say: the horror of what separates us from what we are in our anguish is less terrible than the idea of an infinite monotony of non-sovereign being. [my emphasis] Reason cannot make us choose either, and inner experience cannot reveal either as wrong. So at what point can one resolve the difficult question of when sovereignty begins if not either by saying, with Nietzsche, thus I willed it (as chance, as power); or, with Bataille, thus I cede or abandon it (as chance, as sacrificial loss). […] Without retracing the various steps of this Bataillean myth—this violent passion that the ego devotes to itself (or that devotes the ego to itself in its own sundering)—it’s worth pointing out that this myth also serves to reinstate a myth of the (white, western) subject as both destiny and foundation. It designates a subject who can only enter into relationships with others by assuming this abyssal, expiatory, sovereign obliteration-restoration beyond otherness. It is, Bataille tells us, a crime to enjoy chance as will to power. His reasoning is that what resists also transgresses, and it must do so in such a way that it is at once without diminution or ressentiment. On this score, violent sacrifice is taken to be the essence of society but only for those who seemingly have already made the choice, and not just any choice, but the choice to be a non—or absolute—subject, who is thus headless (i.e., sovereign) and always at fault (i.e., transgressive) in their very being, for to be sovereign is to be at fault to any order or system. Hence the need to wager, to mitigate or expiate the egotism of this mitigation. In saying that egotism lives without resistance—for it merely dissimulates it and conceivably takes malign pleasure in doing so—is to say that will still belongs in the category of desire and not that of drive, or its ethics. Yes, we are fated to be. And to establish community myth is needed (Bataille calls it the “sacred”—a word whose own mythic character is never really questioned as such, but endlessly performed as if it were a kind of mana). When the issue is race or power, however, we know that life has already, in a sense, been invaded or intruded upon by a fault that is never simply sacrificial-ontological. […] [I]f suicide is what discloses the religious and ethical truth of sacrifice, then sacrificing has always relied on a white passion to become; as if by becoming white, it were possible for the subject to appropriate the risk of dissolution and to do so irremediably. At one point, Bataille writes as if sovereignty is the miracle of my will, and supposedly because of the pain and torment of being reduced to nothing. But for those who have been nothing, and whose difference is a no longer and a not yet, the political has a different story to tell than the choice of humanization (as the necessary cost of subjection).”