L'Ab=E9c=E9daire de Gilles Deleuze, avec Claire Parnet -- Ia
[Gilles Deleuze's ABC Primer, with Claire Parnet]
Directed by Pierre-Andr=E9 Boutang (1996)
Overview prepared by Charles J. Stivale
Ia - A through C
(A as in Animal, B as in 'Boire' <Drink>, C as in Culture)
<The following is the first part of a three-part overview of the
eight-hour series of interviews between Gilles Deleuze and Claire
Parnet that were filmed by Pierre-Andr=E9 Boutang in 1988. Destined to
be broadcast only after Deleuze's death, these interviews were shown
with his permission on the Arte channel between November 1994 and
spring 1995, i.e. during the year prior to his death.
Rather than provide a transcription and translation into English, I
try to provide the main points of the questions posed by Parnet and
Deleuze's responses, and all infelicities and omissions are entirely
my responsibility.
A short description of the interview "set": Deleuze is seated in front
of a fireplace over which there is a mirror, and opposite him is
Parnet. The camera is located behind Parnet's left shoulder so that,
depending on the camera focus, she is partially visible from behind
and, with a wider focus, visible in the mirror as well. The production
quality is quite good, and in the three-cassette collection now
commercially available, Boutang has chosen not to remove by editing
the jumps between reel changes; rather, Deleuze cooperates quite
patiently with the small breaks in the movement of the production.>
Prior to starting to discuss the first "letter" of his ABC primer,
Deleuze mentions the premises of this series of interviews: that Parnet and
Boutang have selected the ABC primer format and had indicated to Deleuze
what the themes would be, but not specific questions. He states that
answering questions without having thought about them beforehand is
something inconceivable for him, but that he takes solace in the
precondition that the tapes would be used only after his death. So, this
somehow makes him feel great relief, as if he were a sheet of paper, even
some state of pure spirit. But he also wonders about the value of all this
since everyone knows that a pure spirit is not someone that gives very
profound or intelligent answers to questions posed.=20
"A as in Animal"
Parnet starts by reading a quote from W.C. Fields that she applies
to Deleuze: "A man who doesn't like animals or children can't be all
bad." She leaves the children aside to ask about Deleuze's relationship
to animals. She knows that he does not care for domestic animals, but
she notes that he has quite a bestiary, rather repugnant, in fact -- of
ticks, of fleas -- in hiswritings, and that he and Guattari have developed
the animal in their concept of "animal-becomings." So she wonders what his
relationship to animals is.
Deleuze is rather slow to respond to this, stating that it=92s not so
much about cats and dogs, or animals as such. He indicates that he is
sensitive to something in animals, but what bothers him are familial
and familiar, domestic animals. He recalls the "fatal moment" when a
child brings a stray cat home with the result that there was always an
animal in his house. What he finds displeasing is that he doesn't like
"things that rub" (les frotteurs), and he particularly reproaches
dogs for barking, what he calls the very stupidest cry, the shame of
the animal kingdom. He says he can better stand (although not for too long)
the wolf howling at the moon than barking.
Moreover, he notes that people who *really* like cats and dogs do not
have with them a *human* relationship, for example, children who have a
infantile relationship with animals. What is essential, claims Deleuze, is
to have an animal relationship with animals. Deleuze draws his conclusions
from watching people walking their dogs down his isolated street, observing
them talking to their dogs in a way that he
considers "frightening" [effarant]. He reproaches psychoanalysis with
turning animal images into mere symbols of family members, as in dream
interpretation. Deleuze concludes by asking what relation one should or
could have with an animal and speculates that it would be better to have an
animal relation (not a human one) with an animal. Even hunters have this
kind of relation with their prey.
About his bestiary, Deleuze admits his fascination with spiders, ticks
and fleas, indicating that even his hatred for certain animals is nourished
by his fascination. The first thing that fascinates him, and
distinguishes what makes an "animal", is that every animal has an
extraordinary, limited world, reacting to very few stimuli (he discusses
the restricted world of ticks in some detail), and Deleuze is fascinated by
the power of these worlds. Then a second thing that distinguishes an animal
is that it also has a territory (Deleuze indicates that with Guattari, he
developed a nearly philosophical concept about territory). Constituting a
territory is nearly the birth of art: a series of postures
(standing/sitting for an animal), a series of colors (that an animal takes
on), a field: these are the three determinants of art =96 colors, lines,
fields --, says Deleuze, art in its pure state.
Moreover, one must consider behavior in the territory as the domain of
possession, territory as "my properties" in the manner of Beckett or
Michaux. Deleuze here digresses slightly to discuss the occasional need in
philosophy to create "mots barbares", barbaric words, even if the word
might exist in other languages, some terms that he and Guattari created
together. In order to reflect on territory, he and Guattari created
"deterritorialization" (Deleuze says that he has found an English
equivalent of "the deterritorialized" in Melville, with "outlandish"). In
philosophy, he says, the invention of a barbaric word is sometimes
necessary to take account of a new notion: so there would be no
territorialization without a vector of leaving the territory,
deterritorialization, and there=92s no leaving the territory, no
deterritorialization without a vector of reterritorialization elsewhere. In
animals, these territories are expressed and delimited by an endless
emission of signs, reacting to signs (e.g. a spider and its web) and
producing signs (e.g. a wolf track or something else), recognized by
hunters and trackers in a kind of animal relationship.
Here Parnet wonders if there is a connection between this emission
of signs, territory, and writing. Deleuze says that they are connected
by living an existence "aux aguets", "=EAtre aux aguets," always being
on the lookout, like an animal, like a writer, a philosopher, never
tranquil, always looking back over one=92s shoulder. One writes for readers,
"for" meaning "=E0 l'intention de," toward them, in their intention
(literally), but also one writes for non-readers, that is, "for" meaning
"in the place of," as did Artaud saying he wrote for the illiterate, for
idiots, in their place. Deleuze argues that thinking that writing is some
tiny little private affair is shameful; rather, writing means throwing
oneself into a universal affair, be it a novel or philosophy. Parnet refers
parenthetically to Deleuze and Guattari's discussion of Hoffmanstahl in _A
Thousand Plateaus_. Deleuze says that writing means pushing the language,
the syntax, all the way to a particular limit, a limit that can be a
language of silence, or a language of music, or a language that=92s, for
example, a painful wailing (cf. Kafka's _Metamorphosis_). Deleuze argues
that it=92s not men, but animals, who know how to die, and he returns to
cats, how a cat seeks a corner to die in, a territory for death. Thus, the
writer pushes language to the limit of the cry, of the chant, and a writer=
is
responsible for writing "for", in the place of, animals who die, even by
doing philosophy. Here, he says, one is on the border that separates
thought from the non-thought.
"B as in _Boire/Boisson_ [Drink]"
Parnet asks what it meant for Deleuze to drink when he used to drink.
Deleuze muses that he used to drink a lot, but had to stop for health
reasons. Drinking, he says, is a question of quantity. People make fun of
addicts and alcoholics who pretend to be able to stop. But what they want,
says Deleuze, is to reach the last drink/glass. An alcoholic never ceases
to stop drinking, never ceases reaching the last drink. The last here means
that he cannot stand to drink one more glass that particular day. It's the
last in his power, versus the last beyond his power which would cause him
to collapse. So the search is for the penultimate drink, the final drink...
before starting the next day.
Parnet asks how one stops drinking, and Deleuze states that
Michaux has said everything on that topic. Drinking is connected to
working; drink and drugs can represent an absolute danger that
prevents one from working. Drink and drugs are not required in order
to work, but their only justification would be if they did help one to
work, even at the risk of one's health. Deleuze refers to American
writers, cites Thomas Wolfe, Fitzgerald, as a "s=E9rie d'alcoolique"
(alcoholic series). Drinking helped them to perceive that something
which is too strong in life. Deleuze says he used to think that
drinking helped him create philosophical concepts, but then he
realized it didn't help him at all. To Parnet's remark about French
alcoholic writers, Deleuze responds of course, there are many, but
that there is a difference of vision in French writers than in
American writers. He ends by referring to Verlaine who used to walk up
Deleuze's street on the way to his glass of absinthe, "one of the
greatest French poets."
"C as in Culture"
[As Parnet reads this title, Deleuze answers laconically, "oui,
pourquoi pas?" (Sure, why not?)]
Parnet asks what it means for Deleuze to "=EAtre cultiv=E9" (be
cultivated, cultured). She reminds him that he has said that he is not
"cultiv=E9", that he usually reads, sees movies, observes things only as a
function of a particular ongoing project. Yet she points out that he always
has made a visible effort to go out, to movies, to art exhibitions, as if
there is some kind of practice in this effort of culture, as if he had some
kind of systematic cultural practice. So she wonders what he understands by
this paradox, and by "culture" more generally.
Deleuze says that he does not live as an "intellectual" or sees
himself"cultive'" because when he sees someone "cultive=92," he quite simply
is "effar=E9," terrified, and not necessarily with admiration. He sees
"cultured people" (gens de culture) as possessing a "savoir effarant", a
frightening body of knowledge, know everything,
can talk about everything. So, in saying that he=92s neither an intellectual=
,
nor "cultive=92," Deleuze understands this in that he claims to have no
"reserve knowledge" (aucun savoir de r=E9serve), no provisional knowledge.
Everything that he learns, he does so *for* a particular task, and once
that task is completed, then he forgets everything and has to start again
from zero, except in certain rare cases (e.g. Spinoza, who is in his heart
and mind).
So why, he asks, doesn't he admire this "frightening
knowledge"? Parnet asks if he thinks that this kind of knowledge is
erudition, or just an opinion, and Deleuze says, no, not erudition. He
says he can name someone like this since he is full of admiration for
him: Umberto Eco, who is prodigious, it's like pushing on a button, he
can talk about anything, and he even knows he does this. Deleuze says
this frightens him, and he does not envy it at all.
He continues by musing about something he has realized since
retiring, since no longer teaching. Talking is a bit dirty, he says,
while writing is cleaner. Talking is to be charming (faire du charme), and
Deleuze links this to attending colloquia, something he never could stand.
He no longer travels for health reasons, but to him, intellectuals
traveling is nonsense, their displacements to go talk, even during meals,
they talk with the local intellectuals. "I can't stand talk, talk, talk,"
and it's in this sense, seeing culture linked to the spoken word, that
makes him hate culture [Deleuze uses the very strong French verb "hair" to
express this].
Parent adds parenthetically that this very separation between
writing and spoken word will return under the letter "P", when they
talk about seduction of the word. Then she returns to the effort,
discipline even, that Deleuze imposes on himself, nonetheless, to go out,
to see exhibitions or films. What does this practice correspond to for him,
this effort? Is it a form of pleasure?
Deleuze indicates yes, certainly pleasure, although not always. He says
that he sees this as part of his investment in being "on the lookout" (etre
aux aguets; cf. "A comme Animal"). He adds that he
doesn't believe in culture, rather he believes in encounters
(rencontres), but these encounters don=92t occur with people. People think
that it=92s with other people that encounters take place, like among
intellectuals at colloquia. Encounters occur, rather, with things,
with a painting, a piece of music. With people, however, these meetings are
not at all encounters; these kind of encounters are usually so
disappointing, catastrophic. On Saturday or Sunday, when he goes out, he
isn=92t certain to have an encounter; he just goes out, on the lookout for
encounters, to see if there might be encounter material, in a film, in a
painting.
He insists that whenever one does something, it is also a question
of moving on from it, getting out of or beyond it (d'en sortir).
When one does philosophy, for instance, remaining "in" philosophy is also
to get out of philosophy. This doesn=92t mean to do something else, but to
get out while remaining within, not necessarily by writing a novel. Deleuze
says he=92d be unable to in any event, but even if he could, it would be
completely useless. Deleuze says that he gets out of or beyond philosophy
by means of philosophy. Parnet asks what he means, so Deleuze says that
since this will be heard after his death, he can speak without modesty. He
refers to his (then) recent book on Leibniz, in which he insisted on the
notion of "the fold", a philosophy book on this bizarre little notion of
the fold. As a result, he received a lot of letters, some from
intellectuals, and two other letters that were
quite distinct. One was from an association of paper folders who said
they agreed completely; what Deleuze was doing, they were doing it
too! Then he received another letter in which the writer said something
exactly the same: the
fold is us!
Deleuze found this marvelous, all the more so since it reminded him of a
story in Plato, since for Deleuze, great philosophers are not writing
abstractions, but are great writers of very concrete things. So, Deleuze
suggests that Plato will suggest a definition, e.g. what is a politician? A
politician is the pastor of men (pasteur des hommes). And with that
definition, lots of people arrive to say: *we* are politicians! The
shepherd, who provides clothes for humankind; the butcher, who feeds
humankind. So these *rivals* arrive, and Deleuze feels like he=92s been
through this a bit: here come the paper folders who say, we are the fold!
And the others who wrote were surfers, we understand, we agree completely.
We never stop inserting ourselves in the folds of nature. For them, nature
is a kind of mobile fold, and they see their task as living in the folds of
waves.
So with such encounters, one can get beyond philosophy through
philosophy, and Deleuze has had these encounters with paper folders, with
surfers without needing to go see them: literally, with these encounters
with the surf, the paper folders, he got out of philosophy by means of
philosophy. So when Deleuze goes out to an exhibition, he is on the lookout
for a painting that might touch him, affect him. Theater does not present
such an opportunity for encounters, he says, since he has trouble remaining
seated so long, with certain exceptions (like Bob Wilson, Carmello Bene).
Parnet asks if going to the movies is always work, if there is no cinema
for distraction. Deleuze says it=92s not culture, and Parnet asks if
everything he does in inscribed within his work. Deleuze says it's not
work, that he is simply being alert, on the lookout for something that
"passes", something troubling, amusing. [Here Parnet says it=92s not Eddie
Murphy that would interest Deleuze, but Deleuze clearly doesn=92t know who h=
e
is, so Parnet refers to a French comic who appears often on television that
Deleuze enjoys]. What Deleuze looks for in going out is to see if there is
an idea that he can draw out of his encounters, in movies, for example. He
refers to Minelli, to Joseph Losey, and indicates that he discovers what
there is in their works that affects him: that these artists are
overwhelmed by an idea, that=92s what Deleuze considers to be an encounter.
[For some reason here, Parnet is not at all pleased with the way Deleuze is
answering, says that he=92s avoiding her questions, and they might as well
stop right away, so Deleuze cuts himself short]. These are not encounters
with intellectuals, Deleuze says, and even when he has an encounter with
an intellectual, it's with his charm of a person, with the working he is
doing, that he has an encounter, but not with people in themselves. "Je
n'ai rien a foutre avec les gens, rien du tout" <I don't give a fuck about
people, not at all>. Parnet says that they perhaps rub against him like
cats, and Deleuze laughs, agrees that it might be their rubbing or their
barking!
Parnet asks about Deleuze having lived through culturally rich and
culturally poor periods, and asks about now, is it rich or poor?
Deleuze starts laughing; at his age, he says, after all he has lived
through, it's not the first time he has seen a poor period. The
Liberation and after was among the richest one could imagine, when he and
others were discovering things all the time, Kafka, the Americans, Sartre,
in painting, all kinds of polemics that might appear infantile today, but
it was a very stimulating, creative atmosphere. And the period before and
after May '68 as well, very rich. And then there are impoverished periods,
but it's not the poverty that Deleuze finds disturbing, but rather the
insolence and arrogance of people who occupy the impoverished periods. The
stupider they are, he says, the happier they are, like saying that
literature is now a tiny little private affair.=20
However, he turns to something he considers more serious in this
regard. He recently saw a Russian film, _Le Commissaire_, that he
found admirable, perfect. But it reminded him of a film like the ones the
Russians used to make before the war, in the time of Eisenstein, as if
nothing had happened since the war, as if the director were someone who had
been so isolated in his work that he created a film that way, like films
were made 20 years ago, since he had grown up in a desert. What is awful,
Deleuze says, is being born in this desert, and growing up in it,
especially for 18-year olds now.
Moreover, when something disappears, no one notices because nobody
misses it when it disappears. For example, under Stalin, Russian literature
in the nineteenth century style just disappeared, and no one noticed.
Today, there are ingenious people, new Becketts perhaps, but if they don't
get published, nothing would be missing, such new creation would be missed
by no one. Deleuze says the most impudent declaration he ever heard was:
Today we no longer risk making mistakes like Gallimard did when he refused
initially to publish Proust since we have the means today to locate and
recognize new Prousts and Becketts. That=92s like saying they have some sort
of Geiger counter that helps them identify a new Beckett through some kind
of sound or emit some kind of glow!
Deleuze says he attributes the current crisis, the period of the
desert, to three things: 1) that journalists have conquered the book form,
that journalist now find it quite normal to write a book that would hardly
require a newspaper article. 2) A general idea has spread that anyone can
write since writing has become the tiny little affair of the individual,
family archives, archives in one's head. People have all kinds of personal
experiences, so they decide to write a novel. 3) The real customers have
changed: the television customers are not the viewers, but rather the
announcers, the advertisers; in publishing, the customers are not the
potential readers, but rather the distributors.
The result is the rapid turnover, the regime of the best seller. All
literature a la Beckett, creative literature, is crushed by it. That's what
defines a drought period, one of Bernard Pivot <former host of the literary
chat show, Apostrophes, now of 'Bouillon de culture'/Cultural Boiling Pot>,
nullity, the disappearance of all literary criticism outside commercial
promotion.
However, Deleuze concludes that it's not all that serious, since there
will always be either a parallel circuit for expression, or a black market
of some sort. The Russians lost their literature, but managed to reconquer
it somehow. Parnet states that for a number of years, it seems that
nothing really new has developed, so she asks how that something new
emerges, and if Deleuze has lived through that. Deleuze responds, yes, like
he already said, the period between the Liberation and the "New Wave", the
early 1960s, was extremely rich. It's a little like Nietzsche said,
Deleuze concludes, an arrow is shot forth in space, so a period or a
collectivity shoots an arrow, and eventually it falls, so literary creation
passes through its periods of desert.
Ib follows =96 separate message
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Charles J. Stivale
Professor of French, Chair
Department of Romance Languages and Literatures
Wayne State University
Detroit, MI 48202
office: 313-577-3002/6240 / fax: 313-577-6243
WWW:
http://www.langlab.wayne.edu/romance/romance.html
