EXCERPT FROM DIFFÉRANCE
JACQUES DERRIDA
Translated by Alan Bass, Margins of Philosophy,
Chicago: University of Chicago Press 1982,
3-27;
(footnotes are not reproduced)
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Derrida, Jacques (1930 -2004 ) French philosopher,
whose work originated the school of deconstruction,
a strategy of analysis that has been applied
to literature, linguistics, philosophy, law
and architecture. In 1967 Derrida published
three books-Speech and Phenomena; Of Grammatology;
and Writing and Difference, which introduced
the deconstructive approach to reading texts.
Derrida has resisted being classified, and
his later works continue to redefine his
thought.
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I will speak, therefore, of a letter.
Of the first letter, if the alphabet, and
most of the speculations which have ventured
into it, are to be believed.
I will speak, therefore, of the letter a,
this initial letterwhich it apparently has
been necessary to insinuate, here and there,
into the writing of the word difference;
and to do so in the course of a writing on
writing, and also of a writing within writing
whose different trajectories thereby find
themselves, at certain very determined points,
intersecting with a kind of gross spelling
mistake, a lapse in the discipline and law
which regulate writing and keep it seemly.
One can always, de facto or de jure, erase
or reduce this lapse in spelling, and find
it (according to situations to be analyzed
each time, although amounting to the same),
grave or unseemly, that is, to follow the
most ingenuous hypothesis, amusing. Thus,
even if one seeks to pass over such an infraction
in silence, the interest that one takes in
it can be recognized and situated in advance
as pre-scribed by the mute irony, the inaudible
misplacement, of this literal permutation.
One can always act as if it made no difference.
And I must state here and now that today's
discourse will be less a justification of,
and even less an apology for, this silent
lapse in spelling, than a kind of insistent
intensification of its play.
On the other hand, I will have to be excused
if I refer, at least implicitly, to some
of the texts I have ventured to publish.
This is precisely because I would like to
attempt, to a certain extent, and even though
in principle and in the last analysis this
is impossible, and impossible for essential
reasons, to reassemble in a sheaf the different
directions in which I have been able to utilize
what I would call provisionally the word
or concept of différance, or rather to let
it impose itself upon me in its neographism,
although as we shall see, différance is literally
neither a word nor a concept. And I insist
upon the word sheaf for two reasons. On the
one hand, I will not be concerned, as I might
have been, with describing a history and
narrating its stages, text by text, context
by context, demonstrating the economy that
each time imposed this graphic disorder;
rather, I will be concerned with the general
system of this economy. On the other hand,
the word sheaf seems to mark more appropriately
that the assemblage to be proposed has the
complex structure of a weaving, an interlacing
which permits the different threads and different
lines of meaning - or of force - to go off
again in different directions, just as it
is always ready to tie itself up with others.
Therefore, preliminarily, let me recall that
this discreet graphic intervention, which
neither primarily nor simply aims to shock
the reader or the grammarian, came to be
formulated in the course of a written investigation
of a question about writing. Now it happens,
I would say in effect, that this graphic
difference (a instead of e), this marked
difference between two apparently vocal notations,
between two vowels, remains purely graphic:
it is read, or it is written, but it cannot
be heard. It cannot be apprehended in speech,
and we will see why it also bypasses the
order of apprehension in general. It is offered
by a mute mark, by a tacit monument, I would
even say by a pyramid, thinking not only
of the form of the letter when it is printed.
as a capital, but also of the text in Hegel's
Encyclopedia in which the body of the sign
is compared to the Egyptian Pyramid. The
a of differance, thus, is not heard; it remains
silent, secret and discreet as a tomb: oikesis.
And thereby let us anticipate the delineation
of a site, the familial residence and tomb
of the proper' in which is produced, by différance,
the economy of death. This stone - provided
that one knows how to decipher its inscription
- is not far from announcing the death of
the tyrant.
And it is a tomb that cannot even be made
to resonate. In effect, I cannot let you
know through my discourse, through the speech
being addressed at this moment to the French
Society of Philosophy, what difference I
am talking about when I talk about it. I
can speak of this graphic difference only
through a very indirect discourse on writing,
and on the condition that I specify, each
time, whether I am referring to difference
with an e or différance with an a. Which
will not simplify things today, and will
give us all, you and me, a great deal of
trouble, if, at least, we wish to understand
each other. In any event, the oral specifications
that I will provide - when I say "with
an e" or "with an a" - will
refer uncircumventably to a written text
that keeps watch over my discourse, to a
text that I am holding in front of me, that
I will read, and toward which I necessarily
will attempt to direct your hands and your
eyes. We will be able neither to do without
the passage through a written text, nor to
avoid the order of the disorder produced
within it - and this, first of all, is what
counts for me.
The pyramidal silence of the graphic difference
between the e and the a can function, of
course, only within the system of ptionetic
writing, and within the language and grammar
which is as historically linked to ptionetic
writing as it is to the entire culture inseparable
from phonetic writing. But I would say that
this in itself - the silence that functions
within only a so-called phonetic writing
- quite opportunely conveys or reminds us
that, contrary to a very widespread prejudice,
there is no phonetic writing. There is no
purely and rigorously phonetic writing. So-called
phonetic writing, by all rights and in principle,
and not only due to an empirical or technical
insufficiency, can function only by admitting
into its system nonphonetic "signs"
(punctuation, spacing, etc.). And an examination
of the structure and necessity of these nonphonetic
signs quickly reveals that they can barely
tolerate the concept of the sign itself.
Better, the play of difference, which, as
Saussure reminded us, is the condition for
the possibility and functioning of every
sign, is in itself a silent play. Inaudible
is the difference between two phonemes which
alone permits them to be and to operate as
such. The inaudible opens up the apprehension
of two present phonemes such as they present
themselves. If there is no purely phonetic
writing, it is that there is no purely phonetic
phone. The difference which establishes phonemes
and lets them be heard remains in and of
itself inaudible, in every sense of the word.
It will be objected, for the same reasons,
that graphic difference itself vanishes into
the night, can never be sensed as a full
term, but rather extends an invisible relationship,
the mark of an inapparent relationship between
two spectacles. Doubtless. But, from this
point of view, that the difference marked
in the "differ( )nce" between the
e and the a eludes both vision and hearing
perhaps happily suggests that here we must
be permitted to refer to an order which no
longer belongs to sensibility. But neither
can it belog to intelligibility, to the ideality
which is not fortuitously affiliated with
the objectivity of theorein or understanding.
Here, therefore, we must let ourselves refer
to an order that resists the opposition,
one of the founding oppositions of philosophy,
between the sensible and the intelligible.
The order which resists this opposition,
and resists it because it transports it,
is announced in a movement of différance
(with an a) between two differences or two
letters, a différance which belongs neither
to the voice nor to writing in the usual
sense, and which is located, as the strange
space that will keep us together here for
an hour, between speech and writing, and
beyond the tranquil familarity which links
us to one and the other, occasionally reassuring
us in our illusion that they are two.
What am I to do in order to speak of the
a of différance? It goes without saying that
it cannot be exposed. One can expose only
that which at a certain moment can become
present, manifest, that which can be shown,
presented as something present, a being-present
in its truth, in the truth of a present or
the presence of the present. Now if différance
is (and I also cross out the 'is') what makes
possible the presentation of the being-present,
it is never presented as such. It is never
offered to the present. Or to anyone. Reserving
itself, not exposing itself, in regular fashion
it exceeds the order of truth at a certain
precise point, but without dissimulating
itself-as something, as a mysterious being,
in the occult of a nonknowledge or in a hole
with indeterminable borders (for example,
in a topology of castration). In every exposition
it would be exposed to disappearing as disappearance.
It would risk appearing: disappearing.
So much so that the detours, locutions, and
syntax in which I will often have to take
recourse will resemble those of negative
theology, occasionally even to the point
of being indistinguishable from negative
theology. Already we have had to delineate
that différance is not, does not exist, is
not a present-being (on) in any form; and
we will be led to delineate also everything
that it is not, that is, everything; and
consequently that it has neither existence
nor essence. It derives from no category
of being, whether present or absent. And
yet those aspects of différance which are
thereby delineated are not theological, not
even in the order of the most negative of
negative theologies, which are always:':
concerned with disengaging a superessentiality
beyond the finite categories of essence and
existence, that is, of presence, and always
hastening to recall that God is refused the
predicate of existence, only in order to
acknowledge his superior, inconceivable,
and ineffable mode of being. Such a development
is not in question here, and this will be
confirmed progressively. différance is not
only irreducible to any ontological or theological
- ontotheological - reappropriation, but
as the very opening of the space in which
ontotheology - philosophy - produces its
system and its history, it includes ontotheology,
inscribing it and exceeding it without return.
For the same reason there is nowhere to begin
to trace the sheaf or the graphics of différance.
For what is put into question is precisely
the quest for a rightful beginning, an absolute
point of departure, a principal responsibility.
The problematic of writing is opened by putting
into question the value arkhe. What I will
propose here will not be elaborated simply
as a philosophical discourse operating according
to principles, postulates, axioms or definitions,
and proceeding along the discursive lines
of a linear order of reasons. In the delineation
of différance everything is strategic and
adventurous. Strategic because no transcendent
truth present outside the field of writing
can govern theologically the totality of
the field. Adventurous because this strategy
is not a simple strategy in the sense that
strategy orients tactics according to a final
goal, a telos or theme of domination, a mastery
and ultimate reappropriation of the development
of the field. Finally, a strategy without
finality, what might be called blind tactics
or emperical wandering if the value of empiricism
did not itself acquire its entire meaning
in its opposition to philosophical responsibility.
If there is a certain wandering in the tracing
of différance, it no more follows the lines
of philosophy of its symmetrical and integral
inverse, empirical-logical discourse. The
concept of play keeps itself beyond this
opposition, announcing, on the eve of philosophy
and beyond it, the unity of chance and necessity
in calculations without end.
Also, by decision and as a rule of the game,
if you will, turning these propositions back
on themselves, we will be introduced to the
thought of différance by the theme of strategy
or the stratagem. By means of this solely
strategic justification, I wish to underline
that the efficacity of the thematic of différance
may very well, indeed must, one day be superseded,
lending itself not only to its own replacement,
at least to enmeshing itself in a chain that
in truth it never will have governed. Whereby,
once again, it is not theological.
I would say, first off, that différance,
which is neither a word nor a concept, strategically
seemed to me the most proper one to think,
if not to master - thought, here, being that
which is maintained in a certain necessary
relationship with the structural limits of
mastery - what is most irreducible about
our "era." Therefore I am starting,
strategically, from the place and the time
in which "we" are, even though
in the last analysis my opening is not justifiable,
since it is only on the basis of différance
and its "history" that we can allegedly
know who and where "we" are, and
what the limits of an "era" might
be.
Even though différance is neither a word
nor a concept, let us nevertheless attempt
a simple and approximate semantic analysis
that will take us to within sight of what
is at stake.
We know that the verb differer (Lahn verb
differre) has two meanings which seem quite
distinct; for example in Littré they are
the object of two separate articles. In this
sense the Latin differre is not simply a
translation of the Greek diapherein, and
this will not be without consequences for
us, linking our discourse to a particular
language, and to a language that passes as
less philosophical, less originally philosophical
than the other. For the distribution of meaning
in the Greek diapherein does not comport
one of the two motifs of the Latin differre,
to wit, the action of putting off until later,
of taking into account, of taking account
of time and of the forces of an operation
that implies an economical calculation, a
detour, a delay, a relay, a reserve, a representaton
- concepts that I would summarize here in
a word I have never used but that could be
inscribed in this chain: temporization. Differer
in this sense is to temporize, to take recourse
consciously or unconsclously, in the temporal
and temporizing mediation of a detour that
suspends the accomplishment nor fulfillment
of "desire" or "will,"
and equally effects this suspension in a
mode that annuls or tempers its own effect.
And we will see, later how this temporization
is also temporalization and the becoming-time
of space and the becoming-space of time,
the "originary constitution" of
time and space, as metaphysics or transcendental
phenomenology would say, to use the language
that here is criticized and displaced.
The other sense of differer is the more common
and identifiable one: to be not identical,
to be other, discernible, etc. When dealing
with differen(ts)(ds), a word that can be
written with a final ts or a final ds, as
you will, whether it is a queshon of dissimilar
otherness or of allergic and polemical otherness,
an interval, a distance, spacing, must be
produced between the elements other, and
be produced with a certain perseverance in
repetition.
Now the word difference (with an e) can never
refer either to differer as temporization
or to differends as polemos. Thus the word
différance (with an a) is to compensate economically
- this loss of meaning, for différance can
refer simultaneously to the entire configuration
of its meanings. It is immediately and irreducibly
polysemic, which will not be indifferent
to the economy of my discourse here. In its
polysemia this word, of course, like any
meaning must defer to the discourse in which
it occurs, its interpretive context; but
in a way it defies deriving from the present
participle (differant), thereby bringing
us close to the very action of the verb differer,
before it has even produced an effect constituted
as something different or as difference (with
an e). In a conceptuality adhering to classical
strictures "e; différance"e; would
be said to designate constitutive, productive,
and originary causality, the process of scission
and division which would produce or constitute
different things or differences. But because
it brings us close to the infinitive and
active kernel of differer, differance (with
an a) neutralizes what the infinitive denotes
as simply active, just as mouvance in our
language does not simply mean the fact of
moving, of moving oneself or of being moved.
No more is resonance the act of resonating.
We must consider that in the usage of our
language the ending -ance remains undecided
between the active and the passive. And we
will see why that which lets itself be designated
différance is neither simply active nor simply
passive, announcing or rather recalling something
like the middle voice, saying an operation
that is not an operation, an operation that
cannot be conceived either as passion or
as the action of a subject on an object,
or on the basis of the categories of agent
or patient, neither on the basis of nor moving
toward any of these terms. For the middle
voice, a certain non-transitivity, may be
what philosophy, at its outset, distributed
into an active and a passive voice, thereby
constituting itself by means of this repression.
différance as temporization, différance as
spacing. How are they to be joined?
Let us start, since we are already there,
from the problematic of the sign and of writing.
The sign is usually said to be put in the
place of the thing itself, the present thing,
"thing" here standing equally for
meaning or referent. The sign represents
the present in its absence. It takes the
place of the present. When we cannot grasp
or show the thing, state the present, the
being-present, when the present cannot be
presented, we signify, we go through the
detour of the sign. We take or give signs.
We signal. The sign, in this sense, is deferred
presence. Whether we are concerned with the
verbal or the written sign, with the monetary
sign, or with electoral delegation and political
representation, the circulation of signs
defers the moment in which we can encounter
the thing itself make it ours, consume or
expend it, touch it, see it, intuit its presence.
What I am describing here in order to define
it is the classically determined structure
of the sign in all the banality of its characteristics
- signification as the différance of temporization.
And this structure presupposes that the sign,
which defers presence, is conceivable only
on the basis of the presence that it defers
and moving toward the deferred presence that
it aims to reappropriate. According to this
classical semiology, the substitution of
the sign for the thing itself is both secondary
and provisional: secondary due to an original
and lost presence from which the sign thus
derives; provisional as concerns this final
and missing presence toward which the sign
in this sense is a movement of mediation.
In attempting to put into question these
traits of the provisional secondariness of
the subshtute, one would come to see something
like an originary différance; but one could
no longer call it originary or final in the
extent to which the values of origin, archi-,
telos, eskhaton, etc. have always denoted
presence - ousia, parousia. To put into question
the secondary and provisional characteristics
of the sign, to oppose to them an "originary"
différance, therefore would have two consequences.
1. One could no longer include différance
in the concept of the sign, which always
has meant the representation of a presence,
and has been constituted in a system (thought
or language) governed by and moving toward
presence.
2. And thereby one puts into question the
authority of presence, or of its simple symmetrical
opposite, absence or lack. Thus one questions
the limit which has always constrained us,
which still constrains us - as inhabitants
of a language and a system of thought - to
formulate the meaning of Being in general
as presence or absence, in the categories
of being or beingness (ousia). Already it
appears that the type of question to which
we are redirected is, let us say, of the
Heideggerian type, and that différance seems
to lead back to the ontico-ontological difference.
I will be permitted to hold off on this reference.
I will note only that between difference
as temporization-temporalization, which can
no longer be conceived within the horizon
of the present, and what Heidegger says in
Being and Time about temporalization as the
transcendental horizon of the question of
Being, which must be liberated from its traditional,
metaphysical domination by the present and
the now, there is a strict communication,
even though not an exhaustive and irreducibly
necessary one.
But first let us remain within the semiological
problematic in order to see différance as
temporization and differance as spacing conjoined.
Most of the semiological or linguishc researches
that dominate the field of thought today,
whether due to their own results or to the
regulatory model that they find themselves
acknowledging everywhere, refer genealogically
to Saussure (correctly or incorrectly) as
their common inaugurator. Now Saussure first
of all is the thinker who put the arbitrary
character of the sign and the differential
character of the sign at the very foundation
of general semiology, particularly linguistics.
And, as we know, these two motifs - arbitrary
and differential - are inseparable in his
view. There can be arbitrariness only because
the system of signs is constituted solely
by the differences in terms, and not by their
plenitude. The elements of signification
function due not to the compact force of
their nuclei but rather to the network of
oppositions that distinguishes them, and
then relates them one to another. "Arbitrary
and differential," says Saussure, "are
two correlative characteristics."
Now this principle of difference, as the
condition for signification, affects the
totality of the sign, that is the sign as
both signified and signifier. The signified
is the concept, the ideal meaning; and the
signifier is what Saussure calls the "image,"
the "psychical imprint" of a material,
physical - for example, acoustical - phenomenon.
We do not have to go into all the problems
posed by these definitions here. Let us cite
Saussure only at the point which interests
us: "The conceptual side of value is
made up solely of relations and differences
with respect to the other terms of language,
and the same can be said of its material
side . . . Everything that has been said
up to this point boils down to this: in language
there are only differences. Even more important:
a difference generally implies posihve terms
between which the difference is set up; but
in language there are only differences without
positive terms. Whether we take the signified
or the signifier, language has neither ideas
nor sounds that existed before the linguistic
system, but only conceptual and phonic differences
that have issued from the system. The idea
or phonic substance that a sign contains
is of less importance than the other signs
that surround it." [Ferdinand de Saussure,
Course in General Linguistics, trans. Wade
Baskin (New York: Philosophical Library,
1959), 117-18, 120]
The first consequence to be drawn from this
is that the signified concept is never present
in and of itself, in a sufficient presence
that would refer only to itself. Essentially
and lawfully, every concept is inscribed
in a chain or in a system within which it
refers to the other, to other concepts, by
means of the systematic play of differences.
Such a play, différance, is thus no longer
simply a concept, but rather the possibility
of conceptuality, of a conceptual process
and system in general. For the same reason,
différance, which is not a concept, is not
simply a word, that is, what is generally
represened as the calm, present, and self-
referential unity of concept and phonic material.
Later we will look into the word in general.
The difference of which Saussure speaks is
itself, therefore, neither a concept nor
a word among others. The same can be said,
a fortiori, of différance. And we are thereby
led to explicate the relation of one to the
other.
In a language, in the system of language,
there are only differences. Therefore a taxonomical
operation can undertake the systematic, statistical,
and classificatory inventory of a language.
But, on the one hand, these differences play:
in language, in speech too, and in the exchange
between language and speech. On the other
hand, these differences are themselves effects.
They have not fallen from the sky fully formed,
and are no more inscribed in a topos noetos,
than they are prescribed in the gray matter
of the brain. If the word "e; history"e;
did not in and of itself convey the motif
of a final repression of difference, one
could say that only differences can be "historical"
from the outset and in each ot their aspects.
What is written as différance, then, will
be the playing movement that "e; produces"e;
- by means of something that is not simply
an activity an activity - these differences,
these effects of difference. This does not
mean that the différance that produces differences
is somehow before them, in a simple and unmodified
- in-different - present. Differance is the
non-full, non-simple, structured and differentiating
origin of differences. Thus, the name "origin"
no longer suits it.
Since language, which Saussure says is a
classification, has not fallen from the sky,
its differences have been produced, are produced
effects, but they are effects which do not
find their cause in a subject or a substance,
in a thing in general, a being that is somewhere
present, thereby eluding the play of differance.
If such a presence were implied in the concept
of cause in general, in the most classical
fashion, we then would have to speak of an
effect without a cause, which very quickly
would lead to speaking of no effect at all.
I have attempted to indicate a way out of
the closure of this framework via the "trace,"
which is no more an effect than it has a
cause, but which in and of itself, outside
its text, is not aufficient to operate the
necessary transgression.
Since there is no presence before and outside
semiological difference, what Saussure has
written about language can be extended to
the sign in general: "Language is necessary
in order for speech to be intelligible and
to produce all of its effects; but the latter
is necessary in order for language to be
established historically, the fact of speech
always comes first."
Retaining at least the framework, if not
the content, of this requirement formulated
by Saussure, we will designate as différance
the movement according to which language,
or any code, any system of referral in general
is constituted "historically" as
a weave of differences. "Is constituted,"
"is produced," "is created,"
"movement," Òhistorically,Ó etc.,
necessarily being understood beyond the metaphysical
language in which they are retained, along
with all-their implications. We ought to
demonstrate why concepts like production,
constitution, and history remain in complicity
with what is at issue here. But this would
take me too far today - toward the theory
of the representation of the "circle"
in which we appear to be enclosed - and I
ublize such concepts, like many others, only
for their strategic convenience and in order
to undertake their deconstruction at the
currently most decisive point. In any event,
it will be understood, by means of the circle
in which we appear to be engaged, that as
it is written here, différance is no more
static than it is genetic, no more structural
than historical. Or is no less so; and to
object to this on the basis of the oldest
of metaphysical oppositions (for example,
by setting some generative point of view
against a structutal- taxonomical point of
view, or vice versa) would be, above all,
not to read what here is missing) from orthographical
ethics. Such oppositions have not the least
pertinence to différance, which makes the
thinking of it uneasy and uncomfortable.
Now if we consider the chain in which différance
lends itself to a certain number of nonsynonymous
substitutions, according to the necessity
of the context, why have recourse to the
"reserve," to "archi-writing,"
to the "archi-trace," to "spacing,"
that is, to the "supplement," or
to the pharmakon, and soon to the hymen,
to the margin- mark-march, etc.
Let us go on. It is because of différance
that the movement of signification is possible
only if each so-called "present"
element, each element appearing on the scene
of presence, is related to something other
than itself, thereby keepingwithin itself
the mark of the past element, and already
letting itself be vitiated by the mark of
its relation to the future element, this
trace being related no less to what is called
the future than to what is called the past,
and constituting what is called the present
by means of this very relation to what it
is not: what it absolutely is not, not even
a past or a future as a modified present.
An interval must separate the present from
what it is not in order for the present to
be itself, but this interval that conshtutes
it as present must, by the same token, divide
the present in and of itself, thereby also
dividing, along with the present, everything
that is thought on the basis of the present,
that is, in our metaphysical language, every
being, and singularly substance or the subject.
In constituting itself, in dividing itself
dynamically, this interval is what might
be called spacing, the becoming-space of
time or the becoming-time of space (temporization).
And it is this constitution of the present,
as an "originary" and irreducibly
nonsimple (and therefore, stricto sensu nonoriginary)
synthesis of marks, or traces of retentions
and protentions (to reproduce analogically
and provisionally a phenomenological and
transcendental language that soon will reveal
itself to be inadequate), that I propose
to call archi- writing, archi-trace, or differance.
Which (is) (simultaneously) spacing (and)
temporization.
Could not this (active) movement of (the
production of) différance without origin
be called simply, and without neographism,
differentiation? Such a word, among other
confusions, would have left open the possibility
of an organic, original, and homogeneous
unity that eventually would come to be divided,
to receive difference as an event. And above
all, since it is formed from the verb "to
differentiate," it would negate the
economic signification of the detour, the
temporizing delay, "deferral."
Here, a remark in passing, which I owe to
a recent reading of a text that Koyre (in
1934, in Revue d'histoire et de philosophic
religieuse, and reprinted in his Etudes d'histoire
de la pensee philosophique) devoted to "Hegel
in Jena." In this text Koyre gives long
citations, in German, of the Jena Logic,
and proposes their translation. On two occasions
he encounters the expression differente Beziehung
in Hegel's text. This word (different), with
its Latin root, is rare in German and, I
believe, in Hegel, who prefers verschieden
or ungleich, calling difference Unterschied
and qualitative variety Verschiedenheit.
In the Jena Logic he uses the word different
precisely where he treats of time and the
present. Before getting to a valuable comment
of Koyré's, let us look at some sentences
from Hegel, such as Koyré translates them:
"The infinite, in this simplicity, is,
as a moment opposed to the equal-to-itself,
the negative, and in its moments, although
it is (itself) presented to and in itself
the totality, (it is) what excludes in general,
the point or limit; but in its own (action
of) negating, it is related immediately to
the other and negates itself by itself. The
limit or moment of the present (der Gegen-wart),
the absolute 'this' of time, or the now,
is of an absolutely negative simplicity,
which absolutely excludes from itself all
multiplicity, and, by virtue of this, is
absolutely determined; it is not whole or
a quantum which would be extended in itself
(and) which, in itself, also would have an
undetermined moment, a diversity which, as
indifferent (gleichgültig) or exterior in
itself, would be related to an other
(auf ein anderes bezogen), but in this is
a relation absolutely different from the
simple (sondern es ist absolut differente
Beziehung)." And Koyre most remarkably
specifies in a note: "different Relation:
differente Beziehung. One might say: 'differentiating
relation.'"e; And on the next page,
another text of Hegel's in which one can
read this: "Diese Beziehung ist Gegenwart,
als eine differente Beziehung (This relationship
is [the] present as a different relationship)."
Another note of Koyre's: "The term different
here is taken in an active sense." [Alexandre
Koyre, "Hegel a Jena," in Etudes
d'histoire de la pensee philosophique (Paris:
Armand Colin, 11961), pp. 153-54. In his
translation of "La difference"
(in Speech and Phenomena [Evanston: Northwestern
University Press, 1973]), David Allison notes
(p 144) that the citation from Hegel comes
from "Jensener Logik, Metaphysik, und
Naturphilosophie" in Sammtliche Werke
(Leipzig: E Meiner, 1925), XVIII, 202.]
Writing "e; differant"e; or "différance"
(with an a) would have had the advantage
of making it possible to translate Hegel
at that particular point - which is also
an absolutely decisive point in his discourse
- without further notes or specifications.
And the translation would be, as it always
must be, a transformation of one language
by another. I contend, of course, that the
word différance can also serve other purposes:
first, because it marks not only the activity
of "originary" difference, but
also the temporizing detour of deferral;
and above all because différance thus written,
although maintaining relations of profound
affinity with Hegelian discourse (such as
it must be read), is also, up to a certain
point, unable to break with that discourse
(which has no kind of meaning or chance);
but it can operate a kind of infinitesimal
and radical displacement of it, whose space
I attempt to delineate elsewhere but of which
it would be difficult to speak briefly here.
Differences, thus, are "produced"
- deferred - by différance. But what defers
or who defers? In other words, what is differance?
With this question we reach another level
and another resource of our problematic.
What differs? Who differs? What is différance?
If we answered these questions before examining
them as questions, before turning them back
on themselves, and before suspecting their
very form, including what seems most natural
and necessary about them, we would immediately
fall back into what we have just disengaged
ourselves from. In effect, if we accepted
the form of the question, in its meaning
and its syntax ("what is?" "who
is?" "who is it that?"), we
would have to conclude that différance has
been derived, has happened, is to be mastered
and governed on the basis of the point of
a present being, which itself could be some
thing, a form, a state, a power in the world
to which all kinds of names might be given,
a what, or a present being as a subject,
a who. And in this last case, notably, one
would conclude implicitly that this present
being, for example a being present to itself,
as consciousness, eventually would come to
defer or to differ: whether by delaying and
turning away from the fulfillment of a "need"
or a "desire," or by differing
from itself. But in neither of these cases
would such a present being be "constituted"
by this différance.
Now if we refer, once again, to semiological
difference, of what does Saussure, in particular,
remind us? That "language [which only
consists of differences] is not a function
of the speaking subject implies that the
subject (in its identity with itself, or
eventually in its consciousness of its identity
with itself, its self-consciousness) is inscribed
in language, is a "function" of
language, becomes a speaking subject only
by making its speech conform - even in so-called
Òcreation," or in so-called "transgressionÓ
- to the system of the rules of language
as a system of differences, or at very least
by conforming to the general law of differance,
or by adhering to the principle of language
which Saussure says is "spoken language
minus speech." "Language is necessary
for the spoken word to be intelligible and
so that it can produce all of its effects."
[Saussure, Course in General Linguistics,
p. 37.]
If, by hypothesis, we maintain that the opposition
of speech to language is absolutely rigorous,
then différance would be not only the play
of differences within language but also the
relation of speech to language, the detour
through which I must pass in order to speak,
the silent promise I must make; and this
is equally valid for semiology in general,
governing all the relations of usage to schemata,
of message to code, etc. (Elsewhere I have
attempted to suggest that this différance
in language, and in the relation of speech
and language, forbids the essential dissociation
of speech and language that Saussure, at
another level of his discourse, traditionally
wished to delineate. The practice of a language
or of a code supposing a play of forms without
a determined and invariable substance' and
also supposing in the prachce of this play
a retention and protention of differences,
a spacing and a temporization, a play of
traces all this must be a kind of writing
before the letter, an archi-writing without
a present origin, without arch)-. Whence
the regular erasure of the arch)-, and the
transformation of general semiology into
grammatology, this latter executing a critical
labor on everything within semiology, including
the central concept of the sign, that maintained
metaphysical presuppositions incompatible
with the motif of différance.)
One might be tempted by an objection: certainly
the subject becomes a speaking subject only
in its commerce with the system of linguishc
differences; or yet, the subject becomes
a signifying (signifying in general, by means
of speech or any other sign) subject only
by inscribing itself in the system of differences.
Certainly in this sense the speaking or signifying
subject could not be present to itself, as
speaking or signifying, without the play
of linguishc or semiological differance.
But can one not conceive of a presence, and
of a presence to itself of the subject before
speech or signs, a presence to itself of
the subject in a silent and intuihve consciousness?
Such a question therefore supposes that,
prior to the sign and outside it, excluding
any trace and any différance, something like
consciousness is possible. And that consciousness,
before distributing its signs in space and
in the world, can gather itself into its
presence. But what is consciousness? What
does "consciousness" mean? Most
often, in the very form of meaning, in all
its modifications; consciousness offers itself
to thought only as self-presence, as the
perception of self in presence. And what
holds for consciousness holds here for so-called
subjective existence in general. Just as
the category of the subject cannot be, and
never has been, thought without the reference
to presence as hupokeimenon or as ousia,
etc., so the subject as consciousness has
never manifested itself except as self-presence.
The privilege granted to consciousness therefore
signifies the privilege granted to the present;
and even if one describes the transcendental
temporality of consciousness, and at the
depth at which Husserl does so, one grants
to the "living present" the power
of synthesizing traces, and of incessantly
reassembling them.
This privilege is the ether of metaphysics,
the element of our thought that is caught
in the language of metaphysics. One can delimit
such a closure today only by soliciting the
value of presence that Heidegger has shown
to be the ontotheological determination of
Being; and inthus soliciting the value of
presence, by means of an interrogation whose
status must be completely exceptional, we
are also examining the absolute privilege
of this form or epoch of presence in general
that is consciousness as meaning in self-presence.
Thus one comes to posit presence - and specifically
consciousness, the being beside itself of
consciousness - no longer as the absolutely
central form of Being but as a ÒdeterminationÓ
and as an Òeffect.Ó A determination or an
effect within a system which is no longer
that of presence but of differance, a system
that no longer tolerates the opposition of
activity and passivity, nor that of acuse
and effect, or of indetermination and determination,
etc., such that in designating consciousness
as an effect or a determination, one continues
- for strategic reasons that can be more
or less lucidly deliberated and systematically
calculated - to operate according to the
lexicon of that which one is de-limiting.
Before being so radically and purposely the
gesture of Heidegger, this gesture was also
made by Nietzsche and Freud, both of whom,
as is well known, and sometimes in very similar
fashion, put consciousness into question
in its assured certainty of itself. Now is
it not remarkable that they both did so on
the basis of the motif of différance?
Différance appears almost by name in their
texts, and in those places where everything
is at stake. I cannot expand upon this here;
I will only recall that for Nietzsche "the
great principal activity is unconscious,"
and that consciousness is the effect of forces
whose essence, byways, and modalities are
not proper to it. Force itself is never present;
it is only a play of differences and quantities.
There would be no force in general without
the difference between forces; and here the
difference of quantity counts more than the
content of the quantity, more than absolute
size itself. "Quantity itself, therefore,
is not separable from the difference of quantity.
The difference of quantity is the essence
of force, the relation of force to force.
The dream of two equal forces, even if they
are granted an opposition of meaning, is
an approximate and crude dream, a statistical
dream, plunged into by the living but dispelled
by chemistry." [Gilles Deleuze, Nietzsche
et la philosophie (Paris: Presses Universitaires
de France, 1970), p. 49.] Is not all of Nietzsche's
thought a critique of philosophy as an active
indifference to difference, as the system
of adiaphoristic reduction or repression?
Which according to the same logic, according
to logic itself, does not exclude that philosophy
lives in and on differance, thereby blinding
itself to the same, which is not the identical.
The same, precisely is différance (with an
a) as the displaced and equivocal passage
of one different thing to another, from one
term of an opposition to the other.
Thus one could reconsider all the pairs of
opposites on which philosophy is constructed
and on which our discourse lives, not in
order to see opposition erase itself but
to see what indicates that each of the terms
must appear as the différance of the other,
as the other different and deferred in the
economy of the same (the intelligible as
differing- deferring the sensible, as the
sensible different and deferred; the concept
as different and deferred, differing-deferring
intuition; culture as nature different and
deferred, differing deferring; all the others
of physis - tekhne, nomos, thesis, society,
freedom, history, mind, etc. - as physis
different and deferred, or as physis differing
and deferring. Physis in differance. And
in this we may see the site of a reinterpretation
of mimesis in its alleged opposition to physic).
And on the basis of this unfolding of the
same as differance, we see announced the
sameness of différance and repetition in
the eternal return. Themes in Nietzsche's
work that are linked to the symptomatology
that always diagnoses the detour or ruse
of an agency disguised in its differance;
or further, to the entire thematic of achve
interpretation, which substitutes incessant
deciphering for the unveiling of truth as
the presentation of the thing itself in its
presence, etc. Figures without truth, or
at least a system of figures not dominated
by the value of truth, which then becomes
only an induded, inscribed, circumscribed
function.
Thus, différance is the name we might give
to the "active," moving discord
of different forces, and of differences of
forces, that Nietzsche sets up against the
entire system of metaphysical grammar, wherever
this system governs culture, philosophy,
and science.
It is historically significant that this
diaphoristics, which, as an energetics or
economics of forces, commits itself to putting
into question the primacy of presence as
consciousness, is also the major motif of
Freud's thought: another diaphoristics, which
in its entirety is both a theory of the figure
(or of the trace) and an energetics. The
putting into question of the authority of
consciousness is first and always differential.
The two apparently different values of différance
are hed together in Freudian theory: to differ
as discernibility, distinction, separation,
diastem, spacing; and to defer as detour,
relay, reserve, temporization.
1. The concepts of trace (Spur), of breaching
(Bahnung), and of the forces of breaching,
from the Project on, are inseparable from
the concept of difference. The origin of
memory, and of the psyche as
(conscious or unconscious) memory in general,
can be described only by taking into account
the difference between breaches. Freud says
so overtly. There is no breach without difference
and no difference without trace.
2. All the differences in the production
of unconscious traces and in the processes
of inscription (Niederschrift) can also be
intetpreted as moments of differance, in
the sense of putting into reserve. According
to a schema that never ceased to guide Freud's
thought, the movement of the trace is described
as an effort of life to protect itself by
deferring the dangerous investment, by constituting
a reserve (Vorrat). And all the oppositions
that furrow Freudian thought relate each
of his concepts one to another as moments
of a detour in the economy of differance.
One is but the other different and deferred,
one differing and deferring the other. One
is the other in differance, one is the différance
of the other. This is why every apparently
rigorous and irreducible opposition (for
example the opposition of the secondary to
the primary) comes to be qualified, at one
moment or another, as a "theoretical
fiction." Again, it is thereby, for
example (but such an example governs, and
communicates with, everything), that the
difference between the pleasure principle
and the reality principle is only différance
as detour. In Beyond the Pleasure Principle
Freud writes: "Under the influence of
the ego's instincts of self-preservation,
the pleasure principle is replaced by the
reality principle. This latter principle
does not abandon the intention of ultimately
obtaining pleasure, but it nevertheless demands
and carries into effect the postponement
of satisfaction, the abandonment of a number
of possibilities of gaining satisfaction
and the temporary toleration of unpleasure
as a step on the long indirect road (Aufschub)
to pleasure." [The Standard Edition
of the Complete Psychological Works (London:
Hogarth Press, 1950 [hereafter cited as SE]),
vol. 18, p. 10.]
Here we are touching upon the point of greatest
obscurity, on the very enigma of differance,
on precisely that which divides its very
concept by means of a strange cleavage. We
must not hasten to decide. How are we to
think simultaneously, on the one hand, différance
as the economic detour which, in the element
of the same, always aims at coming back to
the pleasure or the presence that have been
deferred by
(conscious or unconscious) calculation, and,
on the other hand, différance as the relation
to an impossible presence, as expenditure
without reserve, as the irreparable loss
of presence, the irreversible usage of energy,
that is, as the death instinct, and as the
endrely other relationship that apparently
interrupts every economy? It is evident -
and this is the evident itself - that the
economical and the noneconomical, the same
and the entirely other, etc., cannot be thought
together. If différance is unthinkable in
this way, perhaps we should not hasten to
make it evident, in the philosophical element
of evidentoality which would make short work
of dissipating the mirage and illogicalness
of différance and would do so with the infallibility
of calculations that we are well acquainted
with, having precisely recognized their place,
necessity, and function in the structure
of differance. Elsewhere, in a reading of
Bataille, I have attempted to indicate what
might come of a rigorous and, in a new sense,
"scientific" relating of the "restricted
economy" that takes no part in expenditure
without reserve, death, opening itself to
nonmeaning, etc., to a general economy that
takes into account the nonreserve, that keeps
in reserve the nonreserve, if it can be put
thus. I am speaking of a relationship between
a différance that can make a profit on its
investment and a différance that misses its
profit, the investiture of a presence that
is pure and without loss here being confused
with absolute loss, with death. Through such
a relahng of a restricted and a general economy
the very project of philosophy, under the
privileged heading of Hegelianism, is displaced
and reinscribed. The Aufhebung - la releve
- is constrained into wridng itself otherwise.
Or perhaps simply into writing itself. Or,
better, into taking account of its consumption
of writing.
For the economic character of différance
in no way implies that the deferred presence
can always be found again, that we have here
only an investment that provisionally and
calculatedly delays the perception of its
profit or the profit of its perception. Contrary
to the metaphysical, dialectical, "Hegelian"
interpretation of the economic movement of
differance, we must conceive of a play in
which whoever loses wins, and in which one
loses and wins on every turn. If the displaced
presentation remains definitively and implacably
postponed, it is not that a certain present
remains absent or hidden. Rather, différance
maintains our relationship with that which
we necessarily misconstrue, and which exceeds
the alternative of presence and absence.
A certain alterity - to which Freud gives
the metaphysical name of the unconscious
- is definitively exempt from every process
of presentation by means of which we would
call upon it to show itself in person. In
this context, and beneath this guise, the
unconscious is not, as we know, a hidden,
virtual, or potential self-presence. It differs
from, and defers, itself; which doubtless
means that it is woven of differences, and
also that it sends out delegates, representatives,
proxies; but without any chance that the
giver of proxies might "exist,"
might be present, be "itself" somewhere,
and with even less chance that it might become
conscious. In this sense, contrary to the
terms of an old debate full of the metaphysical
investments that it has always assumed, the
"unconscious" is no more a "thing"
than it is any other thing, is no more a
thing than it is a virtual or masked consciousness.
This radical alterity as concerns every possible
mode of presence is marked by the irreducibility
of the aftereffect, the delay. In order to
describe traces, in order to read the traces
of "unconscious" traces (there
are no "conscious" traces), the
language of presence and absence, the metaphysical
discourse of phenomenology, is inadequate.
(Although the phenomenologist is not the
only one to speak this language.)
The structure of delay (Nachträglichkeit)
in effect forbids that one make of temporalization
(temporization) a simple dialectical complication
of the living present as an originary and
unceasing synthesis a synthesis constantly
directed back on itself, gathered in on itself
and gathering - of retentional traces and
protentional openings. The alterity of the
"unconscious" makes us concerned
not with horizons of modified - past or future
- presents, but with a "past" that
has never been present, and which never will
be, whose future to come will never be a
production or a reproduction in the form
of presence. Therefore the concept of trace
is incompatible with the concept of retention,
of the becoming-past of what has been present.
One cannot think the trace and therefore,
différance - on the basis of the present,
or of the presence of the present.
A past that has never been present: this
formula is the one that Emmanuel Levinas
uses, although certainly in a nonpsychoanalytic
way, to qualify the trace and enigma of absolute
alterity: the Other. Within these limits,
and from this point of view at least, the
thought of différance implies the entire
critique of classical ontology undertaken
by Levinas. And the concept of the trace,
like that of différance thereby organizes,
along the lines of these different traces
and differences of traces, in Nietzsche's
sense, in Freud's sense, in Levinas's sense
- these "names of authors" here
being only indices - the network which reassembles
and traverses our "era" as the
delimitation of the ontology of presence.
Which is to say the ontology of beings and
beingness. It is the domination of beings
that différance everywhere comes to solicit,
in the sense that sollicitare, in old Lahn,
means to shake as a whole, to make tremble
in entirety. Therefore, it is the determination
of Being as presence or as beingness that
is interrogated by the thought of differance.
Such a question could not emerge and be understood
unless the difference between Being and beings
were somewhere to be broached. First consequence:
différance is not. It is not a present being,
however excellent, unique, principal, or
transcendent. It governs nothing, reigns
over nothing, and nowhere exercises any authority.
It is not announced by any capital letter.
Not only is there no kingdom of differance,
but différance instigates the subversion
of every kingdom. Which makes it obviously
threatening and infallibly dreaded by everything
within us that desires a kingdom, the past
or future presence of a kingdom. And it is
always in the name of a kingdom that one
may reproach différance with wishing to reign,
believing that one sees it aggrandize itself
with a capital letter.
Can différance, for these reasons, settle
down into the division of the ontico-ontological
difference, such as it is thought, such as
its "epoch" in particular is thought,
"through," if it may skill be expressed
such, Heidegger's uncircumventable meditation?
There is no simple answer to such a question.
In a certain aspect of itself, différance
is certainly but the historical and epochal
unfolding of Being or of the ontological
difference. The a of différance marks the
movement of this unfolding.
And yet, are not the thought of the meaning
or truth of Being, the determination of différance
as the ontico-ontological difference, difference
thought within the horizon of the question
of Being, skill intrametaphysical effects
of differance? The unfolding of différance
is perhaps not solely the truth of Being,
or of the epochality of Being. Perhaps we
must attempt to think this unheard-of thought,
this silent tracing: that the history of
Being, whose thought engages the Greco-Western
logos such as it is produced via the ontological
difference, is but an epoch of the diapherein.
Henceforth one could no longer even call
this an "epoch," the concept of
epochality belonging to what is within history
as the history of Being. Since Being has
never had a "meaning," has never
been thought or said as such, except by dissimulating
itself in beings, then differance, in a certain
and very strange way, (is) "older"
than the ontological difference or than the
truth of Being. When it has this age it can
be called the play of the trace. The play
of a trace which no longer belongs to the
horizon of Being, but whose play transports
and encloses the meaning of Being: the play
of the trace, or the differance, which has
no meaning and is not. Which does not belong.
There is no maintaining, and no depth to,
this bottomless chessboard on which Being
is put into play.
Perhaps this is why the Heraclitean play
of the hen diapheron heautoi, of the one differing from itself, the one
in difference with itself, already is lost
like a trace in the determination of the
diapherein as ontological difference.
To think the ontological difference doubtless
remains a difficult task, and any statement
of it has remained almost inaudible. Further,
to prepare, beyond our logos, for a différance
so violent that it can be interpellated neither
as the epochality of Being nor as ontological
difference, is not in any way to dispense
with the passage through the truth of Being,
or to "criticize," "contest,"
or misconstrue its incessant necessity. On
the contrary, we must stay within the difficulty
of this passage, and repeat it in the rigorous
reading of metaphysics, wherever metaphysics
normalizes Western discourse, and not only
in the texts of the "history of philosophy."
As rigorously as possible we must permit
to appear/ disappear the trace of what exceeds
the truth of Being. The trace (of that) which
can never be presented, the trace which itself
can never be presented: that is, appear and
manifest itself, as such, in its phenomenon.
The trace beyond that which profoundly links
fundamental ontology and phenomenology. Always
differing and deferring, the trace is never
as it is in the presentation of itself. It
erases itself in presenting itself, muffles
itself in resonating, like the a writing
itself, inscribing its pyramid in differance.
The annunciating and reserved trace of this
movement can always be disclosed in metaphysical
discourse, and especially in the contemporary
discourse which states, through the attempts
to which we just referred (Nietzsche, Freud,
Levinas), the closure of ontology. And especially
through the Heideggerean text.
This text prompts us to examine the essence
of the present, the presence of the present.
What is the present? What is it to think
the present in its presence?.
Let us consider, for example, the 1946 text
endtled Der Spruch des Anaximander ("The
Anaximander Fragment"). [Martin Heidegger,
Holzwege (Frankfurt: Vittorio Klostermann,
1957). English translation ("The Anaximander
Fragment") in Early Greek Thinking,
trans. David Farrell Krell and Frank Capuzzi
(New York: Harper and Row, 1975).] In this
text Heidegger recalls that the forgethng
of Being forgets the difference between Being
and beings: ". . . to be the Being of
beings is the matter of Being (die Sache
des Seins). The grammatical form of this
enigmatic, ambiguous genitive indicates a
genesis (Genesis), the emergence (Herkunft)
of what is present from presencing (des Anwesenden
aus dem Anwesen). Yet the essence (Wesen)
of this emergence remains concealed (verborgen)
along with the essence of these two words.
Not only that, but even the very relation
between presencing and what is present (Anwesen
und Anwesendem) remains unthought. From early
on it seems as though presencing and what
is present were each something for itself.
Presencing itself unnoticeably becomes something
present . . . The essence of presencing (Das
Wesen des Anwesens), and with it the distinction
between presencing and what is present, remains
forgotten. The oblivion of Being is oblivion
of the distinction between Being and beings"
(p. 50).
In recalling the difference between Being
and beings (the ontological difference) as
the difference between presence and the present,
Heidegger advances a proposition, a body
of propositions, that we are not going to
use as a subject for cridcism. This would
be foolishly precipitate; rather, what we
shall try to do is to return to this proposition
its power to provoke.
Let us proceed slowly. What Heidegger wants
to mark is this: the difference between Being
and beings, the forgotten of metaphysics,
has disappeared without leaving a trace.
The very trace of difference has been submerged.
If we maintain that différance (is) (itself)
other than absence and presence, if it traces,
then when it is a matter of the forgetting
of the difference (between Being and beings),
we would have to speak of a disappearance
of the trace of the trace. Which is indeed
what the following passage from "The
Anaximander Fragment" seems to imply:
"Oblivion of Being belongs to the self-veiling
essence of Being. It belongs so essentially
to the deshny of Being that the dawn of this
destiny rises as the unveiling of what is
present in its presencing. This means that
the history of Being begins with the oblivion
of Being, since Being - together with its
essence, its distinction from beings - keeps
to itself. The dishnction collapses. It remains
forgotten. Although the two parties to the
distinction, what is present and presencing
(das Anwesende und das Anwesen), reveal themselves,
they do not do so as distinguished. Rather,
even the early trace (die frühe Spur) of
the distinction is obliterated when presencing
appears as something present (das Anwesen
wie ein Anwesendes erscheint) and finds itself
in the position of being the highest being
present (in einem höchsten Anwesenden)"
(pp. 50-51).
Since the trace is not a presence but the
simulacrum of a presence that dislocates
itself, displaces itself, refers itself,
it properly has no site erasure belongs to
its structure. And not only the erasure which
must always be able to overtake it (without
which it would not be a trace but an indestructible
and monumental substance), but also the erasure
which constitutes it from the outset as a
trace, which situates it as the change of
site, and makes it disappear in its appearance,
makes it emerge from itself in its production.
The erasure of the early trace (die fruhe Spur) of difference is therefore the "same"
as its tracing m the text of metaphysics.
This latter must have maintained the mark
of what it has lost, reserved, put aside.
The paradox of such a structure, in the language
of metaphysics, is an inversion of metaphysical
concepts, which produces the following effect:
the present becomes the sign of the sign,
the trace of the trace. It is no longer what
every reference refers to in the last analysis.
It becomes a function in a structure of generalized
reference. It is a trace, and a trace of
the erasure of the trace.
Thereby the text of metaphysics is comprehended.
Still legible; and to be read. It is not
surrounded but rather traversed by its limit,
marked in its interior by the multiple furrow
of its margin. Proposing all at once the
monument and the mirage of the trace, the
trace simultaneously traced and erased, simultaneously
living and dead, and, as always, living in
its simulation of life's preserved inscription.
A pyramid. Not a stone fence to be jumped
over but itself stonelike, on a wall, to
be deciphered otherwise, a text without voice.
Thus one can think without contradiction,
or at least without granting any pertinence
to such a contradiction, what is perceptible
and imperceptible in the trace. The "early
trace" of difference is lost in an invisibility
without return, and yet its very loss is
sheltered, retained, seen, delayed. In a
text. In the form of presence. In the form
of the proper. Which itself is only an effect
of writing.
Having stated the erasure of the early trace,
Heidegger can therefore, in a contradiction
without contradiction, consign, countersign,
the sealing of the trace. A bit further on:
"However, the distinction between Being
and beings, as something forgotten, can invade
our experience only if it has already unveiled
itself with the presencing of what is present
(mit dem Anwesen des Anwesenden); only if
it has left a trace
(eine Spur gepragt hat) which remains preserved
(gewahrt bleibt) in the language to which
Being comes" (p. 51).
Still further on, while meditating on Anaximander's
to khreon, which he translates as Brauch
(usage), Heidegger writes this: "Enjoining
order and reck (Fug und Ruch verfugend),
usage delivers to each present being (Anwesende)
the while into which it is released. But
accompanying this process is the constant
danger that lingering will petrify into mere
persistence (in das blosse Beharren verhärtet).
Thus usage essentially remains at the same
hme the distribution (Ausha'ndigung: dis-maintenance)
of presencing (des Anwesens) into disorder
(in den Un-fug). Usage conjoins the dis (Der
Brauch fugt das Un-)" (p. 54).
And it is at the moment when Heidegger recognizes
usage as trace that the question must be
asked: can we, and to what extent, think
this trace and the dis of différance as Wesen
des Seins? Does not the dis of différance
refer us beyond the history of Being, and
also beyond our language, and everything
that can be named in it? In the language
of Being, does it not call for a necessarily
violent transformation of this language by
an endrely other language?
Let us make this question more specific.
And to force the "trace" out of
it (and has anyone thought that we have been
tracking something down, something other
than tracks themselves to be tracked down?),
let us read this passage: "The translation
of to khreon as 'usage' has not resulted
from a preoccupation with etymologies and
dictionary meanings. The choice of the word
stems from a prior crossing over (Über- setzen;
trans-lation) of a thinking which tries to
think the dishnction m the essence of Being
(im Wesen des Seins) in the fateful beginning
of Being's oblivion. The word'usage' is dictated
to thinking in the experience (Erfahrung)
of Being's oblivion. What properly remains
to be thought in the word 'usage' has presumably
left a trace (Spur) in to khreon. This trace
quickly vanishes (alsbald verschwindet) in
the deshny of Being which unfolds in world
history as Western metaphysics" (p.
54).
How to conceive what is outside a text? That
which is more or less than a text's own,
proper margin? For example, what is other
than the text of Western metaphysics? It
is certain that the trace which "quickly
vanishes in the destiny of Being (and) which
unfolds . . . as Western metaphysics"
escapes every determination, every name it
might receive in the metaphysical text. It
is sheltered, and therefore dissimulated,
in these names. It does not appear in them
as the trace "itself." But this
is because it could never appear itself,
as such. Heidegger also says that difference
cannot appear as such: "Lichtung des
Unterschiedes kann deshalb auch nicht bedeuten,
class der Unterschied als der Unterschied
erscheint." There is no essence of différance;
it (is) that which not only could never be
appropriated in the as such of its name or
its appearing, but also that which threatens
the authority of the as such in general,
of the presence of the thing itself in its
essence. That there is not a proper essence
of différance at this point, implies that
there is neither a Being nor truth of the
play of writing such as it engages differance.
For us, différance remains a metaphysical
name, and all the names that it receives
in our language are shll, as names, metaphysical.
And this is parhcularly the case when these
names state the determination of diffe'rance
as the difference between presence and the
present (Anwesen/Anwesend), and above all,
and is already the case when they state the
determination of différance as the difference
of Being and beings.
"Older" than Being itself, such
a différance has no name in our language.
But we "already know" that if it
is unnameable, if is not provisionally so,
not because our language has not yet found
or received this name, or because we would
have to seek it in another language, outside
the finite system of our own. It is rather
because there is no name for it at all, not
even the name of essence or of Being, not
even that of "differance," which
is not a name, which is not a pure nominal
unity, and unceasingly dislocates itself
in a chain of differing and deferring substitutions.
"There is no name for it": a proposition
to be read in its platitude. This unnameable
is not an ineffable Being which no name could
approach: God, for example. This unnameable
is the play which makes possible nominal
effects, the reladvely unitary and atomic
structures that are called names, the chains
of substitutions of names in which, for example,
the nominal effect différance is itself enmeshed,
carried off, reinscribed, just as a false
entry or a false exit is skill part of the
game, a function of the system.
What we know, or what we would know if it
were simply a question here of something
to know, is that there has never been, never
will be, a unique word, a master-name. This
is why the thought of the letter a in différance
is not the primary prescription or the prophetic
annunciation of an imminent and as yet unheard-of
nomination. There is nothing kerygmatic about
this "word," provided that one
perceives its decapita(liza)tion. And that
one puts into question the name of the name.
There will be no unique name, even if it
were the name of Being. And we must think
this without nostalgia, that is, outside
of the myth of a purely maternal or paternal
language, a lost native country of thought.
On the contrary, we must affirm this, in
the sense in which Nietzsche puts affirmation
into play, in a certain laughter and a certain
step of the dance.
From the vantage of this laughter and this
dance, from the vantage of this affirmation
foreign to all dialectics, the other side
of nostalgia, what I will call Heideggerian
hope, comes into question. I am not unaware
how shocking this word might seem here. Nevertheless
I am venturing it, without excluding any
of its implications, and I relate it to what
still seems to me to be the metaphysical
part of "The Anaximander Fragment":
the quest for the proper word and the unique
name. Speaking of the first word of Being
(das frühe Wort des Seins: to khreon), Heidegger
writes: "The relation to what is present
that rules in the essence of presencing itself
is a unique one (ist eine einzige), altogether
incomparable to any other relation. It belongs
to the uniqueness of Being itself (Sie gehört
zur Einzigkeit des Seins selbst). Therefore,
in order to name the essenhal nature of Being
(das wesende Seins), language would have
to find a single word, the unique word (ein
einziges, das einzige Wort). From this we
can gather how daring every thoughtful word
(denkende Wort) addressed to Being is (das
dem Sein zugesprochen wird). Nevertheless
such daring is not impossible, since Being
speaks always and everywhere throughout language"
(p. 52).
Such is the question: the alliance of speech
and Being in the unique word, in the finally
proper name. And such is the question inscribed
in the simulated affirmation of differance.
It bears (on) each member of this sentence:
"Being / speaks / always and everywhere
/ throughout / language."
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