The title of my comments on Samuel Chambers’s The Lessons of Rancière borrows from a cartoon by Gary Larson. It’s composed of two panels. The first illustrates “What we say to dogs,” and its text—words spoken by a man scolding a dog—reads: “Okay, Ginger, I’ve had it! You stay out of the garbage! Understand, Ginger? Stay out of the garbage or else!” The second panel illustrates “What dogs hear,” and its text reads: “blah blah GINGER blah blah blah blah blah (...) blah blah blah GINGER blah blah blah blah blah”. The cartoon came to mind while reading Chambers’s incisive account of Rancière’s neologistic “literarity,” which likewise works on and in the gap between what is said and what is heard. If... (shrink)

In Rousseau's Republican Romance, Elizabeth Wingrove combines political theory and narrative analysis to argue that Rousseau's stories of sex and sexuality offer important insights into the paradoxes of democratic consent. She suggests that despite Rousseau's own protestations, "man" and "citizen" are not rival or contradictory ideals. Instead, they are deeply interdependent. Her provocative reconfiguration of republicanism introduces the concept of consensual nonconsensuality--a condition in which one wills the circumstances of one's own domination. This apparently paradoxical possibility appears at the center (...) of Rousseau's republican polity and his romantic dyad: in both instances, the expression and satisfaction of desire entail a twin experience of domination and submission.Drawing on a wide variety of Rousseau's political and literary writings, Wingrove shows how consensual nonconsensuality organizes his representations of desire and identity. She demonstrates the inseparability of republicanism and accounts of heterosexuality in an analysis that emphasizes the sentimental and somatic aspects of citizenship. In Rousseau's texts, a politics of consent coincides with a performative politics of desire and of emotion. Wingrove concludes that understanding his strategies of democratic governance requires attending to his strategies of symbolization. Further, she suggests that any understanding of political practice requires attending to bodily practices. (shrink)

This essay argues that a recurrent concern among feminist scholars to "get Wollstonecraft's (proto-)feminism right" risks (1) limiting how we understand her contributions to the politics of the post-Revolutionary period and (2) limiting how we understand those politics to be gendered. The argument unfolds through a rhetorical analysis that traces Wollstonecraft's efforts to bring order to the practices of reading and writing. In their attempts to discipline literacy, her writings simultaneously challenge and exploit gender practices and identities; in so doing (...) they underscore the significance ofprint culture to the political and sexual struggles of the late eighteenth century. The essay concludes that this significance suggests a need for more detailed analyses of the links between the politics of print culture and the formation of public spheres. (shrink)

This essay explores letter writing in late ancien régime France as a means of political contestation. Drawing from Rancière's notion of "illegitimate speakers," I retrace the story of an obscure Bastille prisoner, Geneviève Gravelle, whose letters to the king and the French public reveal the simultaneously political, literary, and aesthetic barriers impeding such illegitimate speech and the strategies used in attempting to overcome them. Attending to the historical-poetic context in which Gravelle's letters were composed and circulated, I elaborate, first, a (...) politics of voice that highlights the uncertain and multiply mediated processes on which political speech depends, and second, a politics of reading and writing in which sovereignty is both challenged and impersonated through the epistolary form. (shrink)

Since everything which enters into the human understanding comes there through the senses, man's first reason is a reason of the senses; this sensual reason serves as the basis of intellectual reason. Our first masters of philosophy are our feet, our hands, our eyes. Emile, 125.