Paper Machine

by Jacques Derrida, Rachel Bowlby (Translator)

This book questions the book itself, archivization, machines for writing, and the mechanicity inherent in language, the media, and intellectuals. Derrida questions what takes place between the paper and the machine inscribing it. He examines what becomes of the archive when the world of paper is subsumed in new machines for virtualization, and whether there can be a virtual event or a virtual archive.

Derrida continues his long-standing investigation of these issues, and ties them into the new themes that governed his teaching and thinking in the past few the secret, pardon, perjury, state sovereignty, hospitality, the university, animal rights, capital punishment, the question of what sort of mediatized world is replacing the print epoch, and the question of the “wholly other.” Derrida is remarkable at making seemingly occasional pieces into part of a complexly interconnected trajectory of thought.

Genres: Philosophy, Theory, Nonfiction, France, Books About Books, Technology, Literary Criticism

203 pages, Paperback

First published October 8, 2001

About the author

Jacques Derrida was a French philosopher best known for developing deconstruction, a method of critical analysis that questioned the stability of meaning in language, texts, and Western metaphysical thought. Born in Algeria, he studied at the École Normale Supérieure in Paris, where he was influenced by philosophers such as Heidegger, Husserl, and Levinas. His groundbreaking works, including Of Grammatology (1967), Writing and Difference (1967), and Speech and Phenomena (1967), positioned him at the center of intellectual debates on language, meaning, and interpretation.
Derrida argued that Western philosophy was structured around binary oppositions—such as speech over writing, presence over absence, or reason over emotion—that falsely privileged one term over the other. He introduced the concept of différance, which suggests that meaning is constantly deferred and never fully present, destabilizing the idea of fixed truth. His work engaged with a wide range of disciplines, including literature, psychoanalysis, political theory, and law, challenging conventional ways of thinking and interpretation.
Throughout his career, Derrida continued to explore ethical and political questions, particularly in works such as Specters of Marx (1993) and The Politics of Friendship (1994), which addressed democracy, justice, and responsibility. He held academic positions at institutions such as the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales and the University of California, Irvine, and remained an influential figure in both European and American intellectual circles. Despite criticism for his complex writing style and abstract concepts, Derrida’s ideas have left a lasting impact on contemporary philosophy, literary theory, and cultural criticism, reshaping the way meaning and language are understood in the modern world.

Reviews

[s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all] · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘A language might also be compared to a sheet of paper. Thought is one side of the sheet and sound the reverse side.’
-Ferdinand de Saussure

Although Derrida comments how Saussure ‘vigorously excluded writing from language’, he also notes that Saussure still viewed paper as a viable metaphor for language. In Paper Machine, the heart of the essays revolve around paper as a multimedia device that works as an extension of language, and the implications of an online future with regards to paper. Comprised of both essays and interviews, the latter being something Derrida mentions disliking yet being roped into so often throughout the years that he has become used to them, Derrida covers several discussions on paper, as well as politics, immigration and French philosophy. Often difficult, and heavily reliant on prior knowledge of the many thinkers he references, this book offers a wonderful overview of many of Derrida’s lines of thought, as well as an interesting investigation into paper and all it’s various meanings.

I first experienced Derrida my sophomore year in the course ‘Technology and Writing’ in which we examined the effects of technology – such paper, word processors, and different writing tools – on the written word and it’s construction. After reading a brief piece from Derrida detailing the alterations in Nietzsche’s thought and style when he moved from writing with pen and paper to using a typewriter (Derrida argues for a more direct, more immediate style and tone, as well as his writing becoming more concise), we were assigned to write several different sentences using any technology normally not associated with writing tools. I turned in a sheet of rock with ‘I am out of ketchup’ written on it in mustard and a picture of the words ‘This took me forever’ written out on the pavement with Skittles candy. The lesson was that different tools affected what we wrote and how we would say things; the more difficult it was to write something out tended to lead to shorter sentences. Derrida explores the implications of better technology by examining the process of writing on a computer. In his piece The Word Processor contained in this book, Derrida explains how typing on a computer is as if ‘an evil-genius, an invisible addressee, an omnipotent witness were listening to us in advance, capturing and sending us back the image of our speech without delay…. With the image rendered objective and immediately stabilized into the speech of the Other…a speech of the unconscious as well. Truth itself.’ When typing on a computer, as opposed to ink and paper, our thoughts materialize before our eyes almost at the instant we think them. He shows how such instantaneous response ‘pulls’ our thoughts forward, as if we complete our sentences and thoughts before our eyes before we even realized we have them in our head. ‘The figure of the text ‘processed’ is like a phantom to the extent that it is less bodily, more ‘spiritual’, more ethereal.’ He wonders how the philosophers of old would have been changed by such technology and marvels at the generations who will grow and think without even having not had the computer as their mental extension. He even jokes how bibliophiles will one day collect disks or thumb drives that have early drafts contained on them.

While he acknowledges the power (even a sexual power) of a word processer, Derrida points out that everything comes back to paper. When we finish writing on a computer, we comment that it is ready for print, for publication, two terms with connotations to paper. It is as if all writing done on a computer cannot be separated from the idea of paper, we are always mindful of the ‘pages’ we have typed (even certain eBooks, paperless books, keep track of how many pages have been read. There must be someone trying to usher a paperless age by changing certain eBooks to note the percentage, yet they cannot escape paper as they still maintain a visual that reflects words on paper) and our word processors still adhere to paper stylizations of margins, spacing, etc. Even terms like ‘cut’ and ‘paste’ reflect the text as something physical instead of abstract.

’Paper echoes and resounds, subjectile of an inscription from which phonetic aspects are never absent, whatever the system of writing. Beneath the appearance of a surface, it holds in reserve a volume, folds, a labyrinth whose walls return the echoes of the voice or song that it carries itself; for paper alsop has the range or the ranges of a voice bearer. Paper is utilized in an experience involving the body, beginning with the hands, eyes, voice, ears; so it mobilizes both time and space. Despite or through the richness and multiplicity of these resources, this multimedia has always proclaimed its inadequacy and its finitude.

It is interesting to see how paper has such a vast assortment of connotations. There are many positives, and Derrida points out that the word book, as in the Latin word liber which was a word for the bark that was used to make the paper that became a book, really designates the paper it is printed on. Paper also comes with a sense of being disposable, and has a multitude of negative connotations. A few that Derrida explores are that a broke promise or a broke signed allegiance becomes merely ‘bits of paper’, and armies numbers or monetary wealth are able to be discredited or at least reduced by referring to it as being ‘only on paper’, thus signifying an abstraction not related to a true fixture in reality. Paper has thousands of uses as well, for words, images, and even rolling papers, toilet paper and currency (his examples). Derrida argues that we will not be able to remove ourselves from our reliance on paper. He even says that it was made to be reduced, as every stroke of the pen is covering up it’s surface, thus reducing the paper while making it into something greater.

The rest of the pieces cover a variety of topics. There is Derrida’s dismissal of Sokal and Bricmont, the former being of the notorious Sokal Hoax, and his defense of Jose Rainha. Very little is available on Rainha on the internet (in English) yet his wrongful arrest, being a figurehead in the Landless Movement, drew the attention and support of Derrida and José Saramago. Much of the rest of his pieces deal with his politics, such his insistence on open Hospitality towards immigrants. The idea stems from Kant, yet he ultimately rejects many of Kant’s ideas in favor of creating his own while still acknowledging the limitations of each. Derrida has many reservations about globalization, yet supports the Euro to some extent. Derrida ultimately believes there should be law that govern outside the system, police that are outside the State, yet without creating some World Law or State. He explores totalitarianism and it’s influence of Marxism and how it is still present in the world today. Finally there is his Frankfurt address, a wonderful piece talking about language, feeling homesick for your own language, and includes a anecdote of a dream from Walter Benjamin in which he attempted to ‘make a scarf out of a poem’.

Derrida is not an easy read. He is heavily reliant on his predecessors and does not slow down to explain things or clear up ideas. ‘Literature,’ he says while arguing that he is not simply giving a ‘commentary’ on his predecessors but being a unified force furthering their ideas (he is extremely antagonistic towards the interviewer in that piece), ‘preserves the memory of the sacred texts that represent its ancestry; this memory is guilty and repentant, both making sacred and desacralizing.’ He speaks heavily on the ideas of Kant and Husserl, while being rather agressive towards Foucault. While being difficult, he is extraordinarily bright and exciting, exploring many ideas that are at the heart of all literature and philosophy. I will definitely be continuing exploring his ideas, as this book is not an ideal starting place (it often alludes to other books of his, this serving more as a commentary on all his other books than really as a stand-alone collection). Derrida has some wonderful words and makes me feel inadequate being in the cage of English and not speaking other languages. Read Derrida!
4.5/5

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

At times this book made me feel really stupid, and usually at the same time sad to be from a country that doesn't really foster any real desire at a young age to learn more than one language. As a result some of this went right over my head. The essays and interviews I was able to find an entrance into though were very interesting. The last piece in the book, an address by Derrida in Frankfurt am Main for when he was given the Adorno Prize by the city was especially great. It might be the first philosophy piece I've ever read that made me feel sad though, strangely sad that both Derrida and Adorno are dead, neither of which is news to me. This book did make me want to dive into more of Derrida's work, something I've always avoided out of laziness, believing him to be too difficult for someone as dumb as myself, now though I think it just might be possible to get something out of him beyond just games with words.

[Jonfaith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascism begins when you insult an animal, including the animal in man.

This book proved abusive. Even at the zenith of my spirit, this would've been daunting territory. As it was, Paper Machine rendered a contused crawl. My spirit was sapped, discouraged. I thought of a retreat. The hills offer protection in this season of uncertainty. Televised fidelity is indeed a refuge for scoundrels. Paper Machine is not a centralized force of interrogation or, god forbid, explication. It is a collection. An internment of suspicious pieces. Ones with suspect papers. It is this range of puns, association and daring word play which makes Paper Machine both effective and maddening.

In principle, a philosopher should be without a passport, even undocumented; he should never be asked for his visa. He should not represent a nationality, or even a national language.

The Departures Lounge of the Mind is a busy place. When there we should care less about the complimentary drinks and practice instead a more earnest empathy.

[March · Rating 5 out of 5]

I finished reading this book in mid-December 2011 (thereby accomplishing my start-of-the-year aim of reading at least one book a month) and was so impressed by it and wanted to say so many things about it, while at the same time been waddling in work up to my elbows, that I kept putting off writing my review of it until I had more time on my hands. However, the few weeks that it has taken me to come round to doing the review may have blurred a bit the intensity of my feelings about this book – I still hope that I can somehow convey my enthusiasm about J. Derrida and Paper Machine, even if from the distance of a month or so.

I checked this book out from the library because of a work-related project. I wanted to immerse myself in scholarship/thought on books as physical objects and books as “experience,” their materiality and things about books that transcend the physical or that are only inexplicitly connected to it, and so on. Anyway, the introduction and the blurb presented the book as above of all a sort of treatise on the nature and development of the book in its material and nonmaterial aspects. The bulk of the book was to be a reflection on the repercussions of transitions/ruptures in the history of the book in its technological, social, philosophical dimensions. Anyway, while Paper Machine does concern itself to a large extent with the “book paradigm,” it has in addition much more to it, and it is all wondrously satisfying stuff.

The book consists of several essays and interviews with Derrida that have been published at different points and in different magazines and journals. They have been compiled, so the compilers (?) claim, around the broad theme of paper not only as substratum, a symbol of stability and legitimation, legitimacy, delimit, finality but also as a medium of abundant flexibility and malleability and a feature of our world that, though in a way undergoing transformations and, allegedly, under the threat of completely going away, is here to stay, as it has been and still is and will be intrinsic to our condition (what he refers to as a “constant reinvestment in the book project”). This topic, however, is only partially, sometimes very much so, apparent in some of the essays or interviews, in which it seems to be only a distant referent or starting point for Derrida’s elaborations on a wide range of topics – from philosophy, to politics, to social matters.
(A beautiful, though – unsurprisingly – long passage demonstrating both Derrida’s views on the “future of the book” and his serene perspective:
How can one speak seriously about the book (assuming that one has to be serious, in other words also be governed by the idea of knowledge—circular and pedagogical—that is only one dimension of the book as encyclopedia, the other one being the dimension of play, chance, and literature, which will always raise the question of whether, as a throw of the dice, it includes or lets itself be included by the encyclopedia)? We will only be able to speak seriously about…the book to come if we neutrally give up any kind of eschatological teleology, in other words any kind of evaluation, whether pessimistic or optimistic, reactionary or progressive. So we should on the one hand give up any lamentation, pointless and powerless in any case, that would come along to tell us in the face of the inevitable: "What's befalling us is the death of the book—catastrophe. We must at all costs save the book from this death that threatens us, the death of everything we have held sacred, of everything to which our cultures and our truths and our revelations, and our modes of legitimation, and so on, are indissociably attached." In fact— let's be serious—we know that the book isn't simply going to disappear. For any number of reasons, it is not even certain that in terms of volume its market production is not destined to remain stable, and even to increase, and in a mediatized market that we should also speak about seriously. I would like to come back to this point in the discussion. On the other hand, we should analyze the retention of the model of the book, the liber—of the unit and the distribution of discourse, even its pagination on the screen, even the body, the hands and eyes that it continues to orient, the rhythm it prescribes, its relationship to the title, its modes of legitimation, even where the material support has disappeared (the new electronic journals, based in universities across the world, generally reproduce the traditional formats, editorial norms, criteria of evaluation and selection—for better and for worse).)

This is my first book by Derrida, and one of the things about him that I found particularly attractive, and one that makes me want to read more by him, is his resolute determination and amazing ability to present the most well-rounded and thought-through exposition on whatever topic he may be presented with, even the seemingly trifle or straightforward. He never spares effort or time going for the easy, simplistic, or “expected” answer, instead preferring to delve in the deepest possible level in order to present a view that, it almost felt to me, would be something he could stand behind forever, something that would not misrepresent him or his convictions. In this pursuit he is relentless, continuously taking up more space and time to present his point than was usually allotted him, and I totally admired him for that. To not be tempted or pressed by circumstances to run ahead of yourself, to shrink your argument because people expect you to, only to mar it and disfigure it, is something that I’ve rarely seen achieved with such grace and excellence as with Derrida.

I admit that I often had a difficult time seeing some parts of the book through to the end, and with essays like “As If It Were Possible, ‘Within Such Limits,’” I only have been able to persist because I had nothing else at all to read, but I was very glad I managed to get to the end of these “more difficult” or more philosophical essays, because I found them to be in a way foundational for important arguments found in other, perhaps more approachable pieces.

Starting with what I think are the more “book studies” pieces, more closely concerned with what the title of the book suggests as the main organizing theme, and moving onto the more philosophical and then political/social essays/interviews, the book revealed a picture of Derrida as a finely level-headed and subtle commentator, in the sense that he states his point “without crescendo” (as somebody has put it in an article I read recently), but always with an admirable thoroughness and always very compellingly. Somebody had written on Goodreads that they feel a kind of sorrow that a thinker with such outstanding humanism like Derrida is no longer with us. This quality of Derrida unmistakably reveals itself in the latter essays/interviews of the book, where he shares his views on immigration, nationhood, sovereignty, and where he comments on the works of other philosophers. He just comes across as a genuinely good man, one that is realistic and calm, yet never at peace or silent when injustice rears its head. In many of his statements I recognize my own firm believes, which gave me an immense feeling of gratitude toward Derrida for never getting tired of upholding his principles and his convictions.

And although Derrida at certain points throughout the book hints at the misguidedness or risks of lifting passages out of their complete context, I really want to share some of his insights, from the many that I highlighted while reading the book.

===============================

On the humanities disciplines:

Plural humanity is also the issue for the old and young humanities subjects, which are under threat more than ever before in secondary education, research, and the universities. The humanities (language and the book; works of philosophy, literature, and the arts, etc.) remain the last place where the principle of free speech or free thought can still be presented'as such. The same is true of the principle of a "question of man," freed from old presuppositions; it is true of new Enlightenments, of a forever irredentist resistance to the powers of economic, media, and political appropriation, to dogmatism of every kind.

On justice and law, a theme in which I found Derrida’s views particularly marvelous:


Law is deconstructed in the name of justice. Take for example "civil disobedience," in the United States or France. It's about objecting to a particular positive and national legality in the name of a superior law (such as the universality of the rights of man), or in the name of a justice that is not yet inscribed in law. The rights of man themselves have a history; they are always being enriched, and thus being de-limited. At any given time juridical limits can always be contested in the name of a justice yet to come. That does not come down to a plea for anarchy against institutions, or for a wild nature against the state. When you oppose a restrictive policy on "the undocumented [les sans-papiers]" for example, it's not a matter of demanding that the state open its frontiers to any new arrival and practice an unconditional hospitality that would risk causing perverse results (even though it conforms to the idea of pure hospitality, in other words hospitality itself). The state is simply being asked to change the law, and especially the way the law is implemented, without yielding to fantasies of security or to demagogy or vote seeking.

On right and left on the political spectrum (simply interesting for me to hear his thoughts on this, and not necessarily exactly something I subscribe to myself):


ASSHEUER: All these reflections ask the question of whether there is still some validity to the categories of the right and the left. What do you think?
DERRIDA: I consider this opposition to be more necessary and more effective than ever before, even if it is true that the criteria and the splits are becoming extremely complex in this regard. For instance: it is true that one part of the left and one part of the right are objectively in alliance against Europe and against the euro, as they seem to be going to be—sometimes in the name of "national" values, sometimes in the name of a social politics, and even both at once. With the same rhetoric, with a discourse that wants to respect the "national" as much as the "social," there is also another part of the left and another part of the right that are in alliance for Europe and for the euro. On both sides, the logics and rhetorics are very similar, even if the forms of implementation, the practice, and the interests all diverge. So, to make a brief and elliptical response to a question that would call for long expansions, I would say that the left, for me, the left where I would resolutely want to recognize myself, is situated on the side where today people are analyzing the troubling and new logic of this equivocation and trying to make real changes to its structure; and also to the very structure of politics, the reproduction of this tradition of political discourse.

On language and reality, another theme that has intrigued me:

No, there isn't language on one side and reality on the other. If we were cutting ourselves off from reality every time we took account of the folding or subtlety of a language, we would have to burn down all the libraries (Gongora, Mallarme, Freud, Celan, Lacan, some others too, certainly, in fact almost everyone!), and only Meschonnic's diatribes would survive this. How is it possible to claim seriously that Heidegger shuts himself up in language and flees reality? It's a little bit too simplistic, you see— let's leave it.

On the deeply personal as defying analysis:

One evening, in a mood of helpless sadness [An einem Abend der fas-sungslosen Traurigkeit], I caught myself using a ridiculously wrong subjunctive form of a verb that was itself not entirely correct German, being part of the dialect of my native town. I had not heard, let alone used, the endearing misconstruction since my first years at school. Melancholy [Schwermut], drawing me irresistibly into the abyss of childhood [in den Abgrundder Kindbeit], awakenedthis old, im-potently yearning sound in its depths [weckte auf dem Grunde den alien, ohn-mdchtig verlangenden Laut]. Language sent back to me like an echo the humiliation which unhappiness had inflicted on me in forgetting what I am."

Dream, poetic idiom, melancholy, abyss of childhood—Abgrund der Kindheit—that is nothing other, as you have heard, than the depth of a musical base (Grund), the secret resonance of the voice or words that are waiting in us, as at the bottom of Adorno's first proper name, but impotent {auf dem Grunde den alten, ohnmachtig verlangenden Laut). I stress ohn-machtig. impotent, vulnerable. If I had had time, I would have liked to do more than sketch out a reconstruction of the argument; I would have explored a logic of Adorno's thought which attempts, in a quasi-systematic way, to shield from violence all these weaknesses, these vulnerabilities, and these victims with no defense, and even to shield them from the cruelty of traditional interpretation, in other words from philosophical, metaphysical, idealist—even dialectical—and capitalist forms of inspection exercise.
=======================

[Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Goede introductie, maar er zitten niet echt centrale teksten van Jacques in. Wel zijn de interviews verhelderen omtrent sommige onderwerpen.

[Andrew Boyle · Rating 3 out of 5]

Extremely engaging, Derrida has a captivating style that forces close reading and thinking. His reflections on paper, a culture of paper and a kind of metaphysics of paper are worthy of further study. This stuff is hard, though, unfortunately I didn't get all of it. A very fun book nonetheless.

[Noah · Rating 3 out of 5]

The lengthy effusive reviews for this are silly. It’s mostly interviews led by mostly VERY silly non-Derridean questions. There’s quite little of the stuff about paper, it’s all in the beginning and the most fun part of the run. In his fashion there aren’t exactly concepts being developed except the big ones (impossibility=realism=deconstruction with some vague equalses), so it’s low stress. Something ridiculous is that Derrida sounds more lucid and important responding to leading, ridiculous interview questions than in prepared remarks. I don’t think it’s pure histrionics to say he’s saying little here but it basically isn’t his book(?) and a lot of this is after two of his “books” on hospitality and cosmopolitanism that are extremely brief and clear, but I bring up just to say he saw fit to write very little …

[Mills College Library]

194 D438pm 2005

[Ietrio · Rating 1 out of 5]

An intellectual fraud doing his best to stay in the now, with rehashing 19th century morals.

[Hamletmaschine · Rating 4 out of 5]

"La huella no es una sustancia, un ente presente, sino un proceso que se altera permanentemente. No puede sino reinterpretarse y siempre, finalmente, se trastoca."

*

"Hay dos categorías de "rechazo" [...], dos tipos de no-lectores. En primer lugar los que no trabajan bastante y se creen autorizados a hacerlo; éstos se desalientan rápidamente suponiendo que un texto debe ser accesible inmediatamente, sin el trabajo que consiste en leer y en leer a los que yo leo, por ejemplo. Luego están los no-lectores que ponen como pretexto esa supuesta oscuridad para descartar, en verdad para censurar, algo que les amenaza o les inquieta, les molesta. El argumento de la dificultad se torna entonces una coartada detestable."

*

"La im-posibilidad, lo posible como imposible, va siempre unida a una irreductible divisibilidad que afecta a la esencia misma de lo posible. De ahí la insistencia en la divisibilidad de la letra y su destino."

[christina]

This looks absolutely amazing Shane! Thank you for the recommendation. I have been woefully neglectful in my goodreads habits....
Now I am going to reccomend a book to I-Ching I told her I would!