REVIEWS 237 Two Regimes of Madness: Texts and Interviews 1975–1995 Gilles Deleuze, ed. David Lapoujade, trans. Ames Hodges and Michael Taormina New York: Semiotext(e), 2006, Foreign Agents Series. 416 pp. $18 pbk. 1-58435032-6 DANIEL W. SMITH Two Regimes of Madness brings together in a single volume all the occasional pieces (a total of sixty-one) published by the influential French philosopher Gilles Deleuze (1925–1995) during the last two decades of his life (1975–1995). The book is a companion volume to the earlier Desert Islands and Other Texts, which collected Deleuze's texts from the two previous decades (1953–1974). Taken together, the two books now make available to English speaking readers almost (but not quite) all the occasional pieces published by Deleuze during his forty year career. The texts included come in a variety of styles, from published articles, book reviews, and prefaces to more informal conference presentations and interviews, all of which are organized in chronological order. The present volume begins with a number of texts related to the publication of Anti-Oedipus in 1972, and concludes with Deleuze's last published text-a rather poignant reflection on the relation between life and death, written shortly before Deleuze's suicide on 4 November 1995, entitled "Immanence: A Life." Numerous articles in this collection will be useful to teachers of philosophy. Deleuze is a notoriously difficult philosopher, and none of his books are accessible to undergraduates in the manner of, say, Descartes's Meditations or Plato's Republic. The advantage of these two collections, then, is that they include many articles that contain surprisingly accessible presentations of some of Deleuze's more complex and notorious philosophical themes. Teachers interested in introducing undergraduates to the critique of psychoanalysis presented in Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-Oedipus, for instance, could do worse than assign the essay "The Interpretation of Utterances" (89–112), which Deleuze and Guattari co-authored in 1977 with Claire Parnet and André Scala. The article examines some well-known case studies in psychoanalytic practice-including Freud's "Little Hans" and Melanie Klein's "Richard"-and is written in two parallel columns: the left-hand column simply records what was said by the child, while the right hand column presents "what the psychoanalyst or psychotherapist hears or retains or translates or manufactures" (89). The effect is striking. Melanie Klein analyzed ten year old Richard during World War II, and his talk had an extraordinary political content: he knew the names of Churchill, Hitler, Ribbentrop, and Darlan; he had learned the meaning of the words "ally," enemy," "tyrant," "liar," and "traitor"; he was fascinated with maps; he read the newspapers daily and listened to the radio. His entire libido, in other words, was directly and immediately political-"he 238 Teaching Philosophy, 30:2, June 2007 masturbates to Countries" (105). During ninety-three sessions and over 400 pages, however, Klein will slowly break the boy, draining the political content of Richard's libidinal life, at every turn translating his political affects into familial fantasies: the Empire is the family; Hitler is whomever hurts mama, the bad father; the English port where Prince Eugen was entering represents his mother's genital organs, and so on. Initially, Richard's sense of humor seems to protect him: "He smiles politely at Mme. Klein's interpretations; he remarks that it is 'difficult to have so many kinds of parents in one's head'; he asks to have a look at Mme. Klein's lovely watch to see if the session will soon be over; he seems worried about his cold" (102). Yet the imperturbable Mme. Klein continues her work, pounding away: the leitmotif of Klein's book is "Mme. K interpreted, Mme. K Interpreted, Mme. K INTERPRETED" (102). The article is readable and even humorous, but it demonstrates that, despite the theoretical exuberance of Anti-Oedipus, Deleuze and Guattari's critique was eminently practical, and was concerned above all with the practice of psychoanalysis. Whether one agrees or disagrees with its claims, the article provides a concrete and "user-friendly" introduction to the more complex critiques of Anti-Oedipus. The same is true of the article "Schizophrenia and Society," which was a text Deleuze wrote for inclusion in the French Encyclopaedia Universalis in 1975. True to its genre, the piece is concise and to the point, providing an extremely rigorous analysis of the notorious concept of the "body without organs" which is, once again, far clearer than anything found in Anti-Oedipus. Other texts, such as "Two Regimes of Madness" (11–16) and "Four Propositions on Psychoanalysis" (79–88), provide more general points of access to Deleuze's theory of desire. The other aspects of Deleuze's philosophy represented most helpfully in the Two Regimes of Madness are related primarily to his writings on cinema and Foucault, respectively. (Interestingly, the volume does not contain a single text on Leibniz, even though Deleuze's book The Fold: Leibniz and the Baroque came out in 1988, near the middle of the period covered by the present volume.) The texts on film are rather varied, but they all serve to contextualize Deleuze's well-known study on the cinema, which was published in two volumes as The Movement-Image (1983) and The Time-Image (1985). "The Brain is the Screen" (282–91) is an interview with the editors of Cahiers du Cinéma about the overall contours of Deleuze's approach to cinema, while "Cinema-I, Premiere" (210–12) is a text derived from an interview with the influential French writer, Serge Daney, and focuses primarily on the nature of the image. In "Portrait of the Philosopher as a Moviegoer" (213–21), Hervé Guibert questions Deleuze about the relation between his writings on cinema and his previous book on the painter Francis Bacon-which Guibert had discussed with Deleuze in an earlier interview entitled "Painting Sets Writing Ablaze" (181–87). Two texts provides analyses of specific films: "The Rich Jew" (135–38) defends Daniel Schmidt's film "Shadow of Angels" from charges of anti-Semitism, while "Rivette's Three Circles" REVIEWS 239 (355–58) provides a formal analysis of Jacques Rivette's film La Bande des quatre (The Gang of Four). Finally, "What is the Creative Act?" (312–24) is the transcript of a lecture Deleuze gave at the famous FEMIS film school in Paris (Fondation Européenne pour la Maîtrise de l'image et du Son), and which was broadcast on French television on 18 May 1989. It is an extended meditation on the question, "What does it mean to have an Idea in cinema" (312), and in my opinion is one of the most important and revealing texts in the collection. All these pieces go beyond the material presented in the two Cinema volumes, and add considerably to our understanding of Deleuze's conception of the relations between philosophy and cinema. Deleuze's writings on the work of his friend and colleague Michel Foucault are also well represented in the volume. The biggest surprise in the collection is its inclusion of a hitherto unpublished nineteen-page article entitled "Michel Foucault's Main Concepts" (241–60). Apparently written in 1984, shortly after Foucault's death, the type-written manuscript includes editorial corrections by Deleuze, indicating that he once intended to publish it. Instead, however, Deleuze decided to devote a full year of his seminar (1985–1986) at the University of Paris 8 (Vincennes-Saint Denis) to Foucault's work, which ultimately resulted in the publication of Deleuze's book Foucault in 1986. For scholars of Deleuze, this new text reveals the degree to which Deleuze's reading of Foucault was largely in place before he even embarked on his seminar, although it also provides a point of reference with which to chart the variations and alterations that took place between this text and the final 1986 volume. In 1984, for instance, Deleuze subsumed Foucault's final works on ethics under the category of "Desire," thereby implicitly linking it up with Deleuze and Guattari's own work on desire in Anti-Oedipus. "Isn't desire . . . the mobile connection between the inside and the two other features [of Foucault's work], the outside [Power] and the strata [Knolwedge]?" (259). In the 1986 book, the term "Desire" disappears and is replaced by the term "Subjectivation," perhaps out of a concern to allow Foucault's work its own autonomy. Several other texts included in the volume testify to the increasing importance of Foucault's thought for Deleuze. "Desire and Pleasure" (122–34) is the text of a letter written to Foucault in 1977, shortly after the publication of the first volume of The History of Sexuality, when Foucault was suffering a crisis. It contains penetrating reflections on the directions of Foucault's thought, as well as its relations with Deleuze's own philosophy. "I had the feeling, with no sadness" Deleuze writes at one point, "that in the end I needed him and he did not need me" (281). "Foucault and the Prison" (272–81) is an interview on Foucault's involvement in prison reform in the 1970s, while "What is a Dispositif?" (338–48) presents an overview of Foucault's work from the viewpoint of one of his central concepts, that of the dispostif (or "apparatus"). For teachers wanting to expose their students to Deleuze's reading of Foucault, both "Michel Foucault's Main Concepts" and "What is a Dispositif " are suitable for discussion in a single class. 240 Teaching Philosophy, 30:2, June 2007 There are several surprising omissions from the collection. Most scandalously, Deleuze's 1993 article, "The Grandeur of Yasser Arafat," which analyzes Arafat's role in the Palestinian cause, has been mysteriously omitted from this English translation, even though it was included in the French edition. The exclusion is clearly deliberate, since the subsequent essays have been renumbered, although no explanation is offered. Whatever the reason, the omission was unjustifiable and shameful. What makes the matter even more puzzling is that the volume still includes three other short texts that Deleuze wrote on the Palestinian issue-"The Indians of Palestine" (194–200, with Elias Sanbar), "Spoilers of Peace" (161–63), and "Stones" (333–34)-none of which have been suppressed. Deleuze sees the Palestinians as being in a situation analagous to the American Indians: "Europe owes its Jews an infinite debt that it has not even begun to pay. Instead, an innocent people is being made to pay-the Palestinians" (333). All these texts were apparently the result of an engagement that was stimulated by Deleuze's friendship with Elias Sanbar, the founder and editor of Revue d'etudes Palestiniennes. Happily, "The Grandeur of Yasser Arafat," which originally appeared in the Revue d'études Palestiniennes 10 (Winter 1984), 41–43, is available in an excellent English translation by Timothy Murphy, Deleuze's bibliographer, in the journal Discourse 20:2 (1998). Although Deleuze was not a militant activist, he nonetheless made frequent political interventions, which are represented here by several texts: "On the New Philosophers (Plus a More General Problem)" (139–47), a critique of the so-called New Philosophers (André Glucksmann, Alain Finkielkraut, Bernard Henri-Lévy), and the more general problem of the reduction of thought to marketing; "Europe the Wrong Way"(148–50), a statement against the extradition of Klaus Croissant, the lawyer for the Baader Meinhof group, to Germany from France (it was this text that apparently led Foucault to distance himself from Deleuze and Guattari); "Two Questions on Drugs" (151–55), which addressed the question of drug use; "Open Letter to Negri's Judges" (169–71), against Antonio Negri's confinement; "Pacifism Today" (222–31), a discussion with Jean-Pierre Bamberger; "May '68 Didn't Happen" (233–36), a tirade against those who have repudiated the events of May 1968; "A Slippery Slope" (359–60), on the issue of allowing veils to be worn in public schools in France; and "The Gulf War: A Despicable War" (375–76), which is a statement against the Gulf War of 1991, written with René Scherer. Such texts provide a wide ranging overview of Deleuze's political engagements. The other omission is an interview with Deleuze and Guattari by Robert Maggiori, which appeared in the French newspaper Liberation on 12 September 1991, under the title Deleuze/Guattari: Nous Deux (the interview is available online at <http://multitudes.samizdat.net/Deleuze-Guattari-Nous -deux.html>, and in an English translation by Jon Roffe at <http://mscp.org .au/translations/nousdeux.doc>). This interview, along with texts such as the REVIEWS 241 "Letter to Uno: How Félix and I Worked Together" (237–40), are beginning to give us insight into the hitherto hidden modus operandi that lay behind Deleuze and Guattari's co-authored works, most notably the monumental Capitalism and Schizophrenia. They should perhaps be read along with Félix Guattari's The Anti-Oedipus Papers (New York: Semiotext(e), 2006), which was released at the same time as Two Regimes of Madness, and which for the first time gives us access to the papers Guattari contributed to the AntiOedipus project. A review such as this, of course, can hardly cover the variety of articles included in a collection of this type. In addition to their potential for classroom use, the texts provide a wide-ranging overview of Deleuze's philosophical interests. Readers will find here Deleuze's insights into the concept of immanence, the role of the subject in contemporary philosophy, a roundtable discussion of Proust, an analysis of Pierre Boulez's music, as well as Deleuze's homages to departed friends such as Maurice de Gandillac, François Châtelet, and Félix Guattari. In short, this is a book that one can dive into repeatedly, since it contains a seemingly boundless wealth of intellectual treasures from one of the great French philosophers of the twentieth-century. Daniel W. Smith, Department of Philosophy, Purdue University, West Lafayette IN 47907; smith132@purdue.edu Luce Irigaray and the Philosophy of Sexual Difference Alison Stone New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006, 246 pp., $80 h.c. 0521862701 SARA MCNAMARA In her landmark work Luce Irigaray: Philosophy in the Feminine, Margaret Whitford contends that "the important thing is to engage with Irigaray in order to go beyond her" (New York: Routledge, 1991, 6). Unabashedly faithful to the spirit of Whitford's remark, Alison Stone's recent Luce Irigaray and the Philosophy of Sexual Difference engages with Irigaray, Judith Butler, Hölderlin, Hegel, and Schelling, going beyond all of them in order to articulate an innovative new theorization of sexual difference. Stone's reading of sexual difference involves subverting the divide between interpretations of sexual difference as a natural fact or a cultural creation by describing bodies as active and nature as self-differentiating. Culture, therefore, as an outgrowth of nature, can stifle attempts by bodies to gain recognition/affirmation; it can also, as Stone argues, self-critically endeavor to promote the opposite approach to nature by creating an atmosphere where bodies are allowed to pursue their own paths of self-expression. Stone's excursions beyond-beyond the text, beyond the expected-frequently lead her to fascinating insights. They allow her to take Irigaray into philosophical terrain feminists have rarely explored