Cet article devait ouvrir l’ouvrage considérable des Écrits sur l’art de Leiris, établis et publiés par Pierre Vilar. En raison des proportions et des coûts de fabrication du livre, l’éditeur, Tiburce Poulet a supprimé in extremis toutes les illustrations qu’appelaient l’ouvrage. Les illustrations et cet article. On regrettera l’absence, dans un tel ouvrage, des illustrations. La Patte de chat est une de ces brèves préfaces – rédigée pour une exposition Masson à Genève, où toute la méthode de Leiris devant l’art (...) – avec ou sans majuscule – se condense : l’art comme nœud, lieu de la révélation et du trouble. (shrink)

On nomme ici « un sexe » une manière singulière d’envisager une pratique sexuelle et de s’y engager. Michel Leiris est exemplaire dans sa manière d’exposer une pratique que l’on pourrait qualifier, en usant d’un de ses propres termes de « timoré ». Loin d’être naturelle ou immédiatement exaltante, l’acte sexuel se présente plutôt pour lui comme une épreuve, certes sans violence ni dimension sacrale, mais qui peut néanmoins être comparée, comme l’écriture elle-même, à une sorte de corrida intime.

Rich with historical and cultural value, these works are published unaltered from the original University of Minnesota Press editions.

This article sets out to reinterpret Sartre’s famous analysis of the look in Being and Nothingness from the cultural-anthropological perspective developed in the posthumous Notebooks for an Ethics. In the latter, he comments on some passages by Michel Leiris on the cult of the zar, a North-African belief and practice involving spirit possession. The article also seeks to show the influence of cultural-anthropological thought on Sartre, asking about what new light these rather unexpected analyses may shed on his thinking about (...) the relationship to the Other. I start with the doctrine of the look as we know it from Being and Nothingness. Then I examine how, in Sartre’s Notebooks, his account takes some new directions. The link with possession, already present—though underdeveloped—in Being and Nothingness, becomes clear. I briefly introduce Michel Leiris in order to interpret Sartre’s comments on the zar cult as described by Leiris. This opens up a new perspective on religion and the social. Finally, I offer some concluding considerations. (shrink)

Michel Leiris est célèbre pour avoir renouvelé le genre de l’autobiographie. Loin des grandes épopées, le récit autobiographique de Leiris se tisse avec force anecdotes et jeux de langage titillant le signifiant – l’infiniment petit est une partie du Tout. Aussi éloignés soient-ils l’un de l’autre, Leiris et Kant ont peut-être tenté de répondre aux mêmes questions – Que puis-je connaître? Que dois-je faire? Que suis-je en droit d’espérer? et, à la fin : Qu’est-ce...

Leiris est-il un allégoricien?Leiris est-il un néoclassique malgré son usage de la digression?Leiris écrit-il dans une langue morte ou dans une langue vivante?

L’œuvre de Michel Leiris est autobiographique de part en part. Pour interroger les spécificités de se dire-soi continu, l’article entreprend de saisir les deux formes qui sous-tendent l’écriture leirisienne dans les ouvrages et les journaux de l’ethnologue. C’est d’abord la strate qui émerge, comme principe de l’accumulation faisant des écrits successifs des sédiments dans lesquels Leiris vient saisir les lignes de force d’un sens qui ne se donne qu’après coup pour comprendre sa propre existence. Ensuite, c’est le cercle, ce retour (...) à soi dans un temps toujours recommencé par le désir d’épuiser l’écriture. Finalement, la strate et le cercle s’enchâsse dans la structure homérique de la chaîne et doit à voir ce qui construit l’œuvre de Leiris en récit épique. (shrink)

La 4ème de couv. indique : "Avec "Hors sujet", Emmanuel Levinas revient et approfondit sa réflexion sur le noyau dur de sa philosophie : la relation avec l’Autre. Méditation superbe qui entraîne vers l’analyse des "Droits de l’homme et droits d’autrui", une approche singulière du "Langage quotidien" et de la "rhétorique sans éloquence", ou encore de "La Transcendance des mots". En chemin, le philosophe retrouve la trace de ceux auprès desquels il a fortifié sa propre pensée – Merleau-Ponty, Jankélévitch, Leiris, (...) mais aussi Martin Buber, Franz Rosenzweig ou Jean Wahl. Une magistrale leçon de philosophie.". (shrink)

The article deals with Le Collège de Sociologie, an elective organization founded in 1937 by a group of French thinkers, among whom were Georges Bataille, Roger Caillois and Michel Leiris. It tries to show how the notion of `force' or of `power', constitutive to the `new mythology' the members of the Collège wanted to create, was in fact deeply ambivalent in nature. This ambivalence can be traced back to the internal ambiguities of the Durkheimian theory of the `collective effervescence', which (...) is shown to have influenced not only the collegians' notion of the sacred, but also their conception of power. This ambiguous theoretical heritage is curiously reflected in the conflicting conceptions Bataille and Caillois held of the notion of power — one of the major controversies, which later led to the dissolution of the Collège. The thesis defended here is that the seeds of this controversy lie already in the internal ambiguities of the Durkheimian theory and that these ambivalences were in a certain manner reproduced not only in the dispute between Caillois and Bataille, but also in much of the contemporary social theory drawing its inspiration from the Durkheimian sociology of the sacred. (shrink)

What can we learn from the open and attentive perception of children and poets? How does this perception contribute to a methodology that reaches the intricate entanglement of worldly phenomena in its entire otherness? In this essay, we aim to answer these questions, taking into account the phenomenological grounds which lead us to achieve a singular state of perception and, therefore, a more crystal clear knowledge of the beings and things in the lived world. We seek to explore other forms (...) of rationality and aesthetic sensibility, by considering poetic language and a phenomenological understanding of the environment. We argue for a modality of thought that encompasses the foundations of Goethe, Husserl, Bateson, Ingold, Leiris and Krishnamurti to collapse the dichotomy between person and environment. (shrink)

Introduction -- The muse of paralysis -- Horizon of conquest: Eugene Fromentin's Algerian narratives -- Slow progress: Jean Paulhan and Madagascar -- Frustration: Michel Leiris -- Atopia: Roland Barthes -- The wake of Ulysses.

Dire toute la vérité et rien que la vérité. Vivre dans la transparence et la franchise. Ces préceptes, les chantres du vrai ont voulu les appliquer de force à ce que tout nous désigne comme une forme retorse du mensonge : la littérature. Quelle est la légitimité de cette posture? N'est-on pas amené à la suspecter, à en reconnaître la fragilité et les impasses? Car, examinant l'inlassable guerre qui a opposé les tenants de la sincérité (Rousseau, Leiris, Sartre) à leurs (...) détracteurs (Molière, Laclos, Dostoïevski, Gary, Perec), on aperçoit se profiler une autre définition de ce qu'est la littérature. En toute mauvaise foi : ne serait-ce donc pas ainsi que les oeuvres se présentent à nous et se jouent de nous? C'est-à-dire en s'inscrivant dans une structure qui n'est ni le mensonge ni la vérité, mais leur mélange incertain. Qui affirme en niant et qui dément en proclamant. Sommes-nous pourtant prêts à accepter que tout discours échappe à ce qu'il est tout en continuant de l'être, à admettre que la littérature ne produise qu'une vérité, parfois contradictoire, et non la vérité? Percevoir la manière dont l'oeuvre pose la mauvaise foi, la suscite et la défie, c'est approcher ce qui constitue sa matière même, tant le moteur de ses intrigues que sa métaphysique implicite ou explicite. Mais c'est aussi repenser son rapport au lecteur, au réel et au savoir. Car il y a un paradoxe commun au menteur et au sincère que seule la mauvaise foi permet de décrire en s'arrachant à nos routines intellectuelles. (shrink)

In 1968, Aimé Césaire travelled to Cuba to participate in the Havana Cultural Congress, a mass international meeting where delegates discussed the place of culture in the struggle against imperialism, neo-colonialism, and underdevelopment. Among the likes of C.L.R. James, Nicolás Guillén, René Depestre, Michel Leiris, and Daniel Guérin, it was in Havana that the Martinican politician undertook the until-now untranslated interview with Sonia Aratán for the Casa de las Américas revue and delivered his Cultural Congress conference paper – previously believed (...) by Césaire scholars to be lost. Both texts shed light on Césaire’s little-known views on Fidel Castro, the Cuban Revolution and Marxism in the context of late-1960s tricontinentalism. By reconstructing Césaire’s exchanges with Cuban writers before and during the Congress, we propose a consideration of the role of Cuba in Césaire’s political thought as a tragic possibility, combining the catastrophe of Caribbean history with the uncertain potential of new social forms. (shrink)

The philosophy of Hitler is simplistic [primaire]. But the primitive powers that burn within it burst open its wretched phraseology under the pressure of an elementary force. They awaken the secret nostalgia within the German soul. Hitlerism is more than a contagion or a madness; it is an awakening of elementary feelings.But from this point on, this frighteningly dangerous phenomenon becomes philosophically interesting. For these elementary feelings harbor a philosophy. They express a soul's principal attitude towards the whole of reality (...) and its own destiny. They predetermine or prefigure the meaning of the adventure that the soul will face in the world.The philosophy of Hitlerism therefore goes beyond the philosophy of Hitlerians. It questions the very principles of a civilization. The conflict is played out not only between liberalism and Hitlerism. Christianity itself is threatened in spite of the careful attentions or Concordats that the Christian churches took advantage of when Hitler's regime came to power.But it is not enough to follow certain journalists in distinguishing between Christian universalism and racist particularism: a logical contradiction cannot judge a concrete event. The meaning of a logical contradiction that opposes two forms of ideas only shows up fully if we go back to their source, to intuition, to the original decision that makes them possible. It is in this spirit that we are going to set forth the following reflections. Emmanuel Levinas has been professor of philosophy at the Ecole Normale Superieure Israelite de Paris and at the University of Paris I . Among his books that have been translated into English are Totality and Infinity, Ethics and Infinity, Otherwise Than Being or Beyond Essence, and The Levinas Reader. His essay "As If Consenting to Horror" appeared in the Winter 1989 issue of Critical Inquiry. Sean Hand is lecturer in French at the University College of Wales, Aberystwyth. He is the editor of The Levinas Reader and the translator of Levinas's Difficult Freedom . He is currently completing a book on Michel Leiris. (shrink)

Emmanuel Levinas never wrote about cinema. To the uninitiated, this may appearsurprising, given that his life spanned the twentieth century, in which film emerged as amajor art form, and his work includes tantalising allusions to films and the cinematicmedium. Far from surprising, however, the liminal place that cinema occupies inLevinas’s thought is entirely understandable. Although his philosophy features manycultured references to literature and the other arts, and he discusses the work of suchwriters as Marcel Proust and Michel Leiris in some (...) detail, his early work is dismissive ofthe aesthetic dimension in ethical terms. More significantly still, his philosophy bears achallenging relation to questions of vision and the phenomenological world ofappearance, tending towards the anti-ocular and revealing an iconoclastic approach toimages. There is something provocative, then, in wanting to ask what Levinas’sphilosophy has to say about cinema, if we understand this realm as the location parexcellence of the moving image. Yet this is precisely the guiding question of this SpecialIssue, which is the first to bring together articles on the work of Levinas and the insightsthat his philosophy can offer to film studies. The collection features an internationalselection of contributors, and includes Levinas specialists as well as film scholars. Thereis no easy bond to be forged between this philosopher and film, and the possibility ofmaking this connection remains open to interrogation throughout some of the articles.But by taking Levinas to the cinema, while tracking the cinematic aspects of his thinking,all of the contributors address this hitherto occluded relation in generative ways, andeach creates a critical opening for future research in the field. (shrink)

Publié en 1989, La Lettre à Louise mettait bien involontairement le doigt sur le secret de famille que révèlera le Journal, publié post-mortem par Jean Jamin. Ce qui, dixit Jamin impressionna Leiris et eut bien des conséquences. L’article est aujourd’hui un peu fané, mais son histoire vaut le détour du signifiant.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:No Fun and Games Until Someone Loses an Eye: Transgression and Masculinity in Bataille and FoucaultJudith Surkis (bio)In August 1963 Critique published an “Hommage à Georges Bataille,” a special issue commemorating the death of its founder. How did the volume’s contributors go about the seemingly tricky business of pledging fealty to the philosopher of sovereignty? How did they profess loyalty to, in effect recognize, the sovereign subject known to (...) insistently refuse masterful identity?Apparently undisturbed by this difficulty, the articles written by Bataille’s acquaintances—Alfred Metraux, Michel Leiris, Raymond Queneau, André Masson, and Jean Piel amongst them—establish an explicitly fraternal relation to their contemporary. Piel begins his homage with an account of their initial encounter chez Queneau in 1927, noting his “impression of extraordinary fraternity, an impression which, through our last meeting days before his death, never diminished” [721]. Intermingling intellectual and personal history, these occasional pieces remember Bataille in a variety of contexts: the awakening of his interest in ethnology and work on Documents in the 1920s, his early “confrontations” with Hegel and work on Critique sociale and Contre-attaque in the 1930s, his sensitivity to events and developments in post-World-War-II Europe. While significantly diverse in focus, these articles manifest a similar approach, at once biographical and autobiographical, detailing the unfolding of shared intellectual amitié in favorite cafés, apartments, and studios. Bataille emerges here as a historical subject whose interests and investments, while multiple and, to use Leiris’s metonym, even “impossible,” are repeatedly linked to a variety of intellectual and political milieux.Michel Foucault’s “Preface to Transgression” assumes a more reverential tone than the pieces written by members of Bataille’s own generation. While framed as an explicit “homage” in its recognition of a certain debt to Bataille, Foucault’s essay also plays upon the contradiction of pledging loyalty to a “sovereign” who repeatedly renounces his own claim to mastery. Bataille’s death becomes an occasion on which to herald the “breakdown” and “shattering” of the masterful philosophical subject conventionally assumed to be in control of the “natural” language of dialectics [42–43]. For Foucault, a new possibility for philosophy is seen to arise in “the non-dialectical language of the limit which arises only in transgressing the one who speaks” [44], a transgression repeatedly performed, according to Foucault, in Bataille’s own writing and metaphorically enacted in and by his death. Bataille had, after all, proclaimed in the conclusion to Erotism: “To give transgression to philosophy as a foundation (it is the approach of my thought)...” Bataille’s theory of transgression aims to evoke a “world of play” in which “philosophy disintegrates” [275]. Yet, if the disintegration of philosophy in and through transgression is already Bataille’s “project,” we might inquire into why Foucault frames his article as a preface. [End Page 18]In introducing this presumably already achieved transgression, the “Preface” affects a curious, alternating temporality, a certain confusion of anteriority and posteriority. 1 At once following and preceding Bataille, Foucault remains out of sync and hence unable to coincide with Bataille in the shared amitié inscribed by the author’s contemporaries; it would appear that this generational gap introduces a certain shift in the recollection of Bataille’s legacy. Following in his footsteps, Foucault appropriates one of Bataille’s own disorienting gestures—the tactical use of prefaces, itself mentioned in the “Preface” [43]—in order to dislodge Bataille from his anterior position; instead, Bataille comes to epitomize the transgression predicted by Foucault’s “philosophical” preface. Bataille’s (and, by implication, Foucault’s own) “location” becomes confused and obscured; as I hope to show, Foucault is invested in achieving this state of indeterminacy for both himself and Bataille.To honor Bataille in death assumes a double significance for Foucault: it represents a “transgression of the philosopher’s being” which “has sent us to the pure transgression of his texts” [40] and simultaneously allows Foucault to sacralize Bataille. “Pure transgression” becomes liberated from the historically located being of the philosopher. And further, since the language of transgression is linked by Foucault to the “death of God,” Bataille becomes, in a sense, “deified” in the announcement and celebration of... (shrink)

The paper outlines the theoretical and methodological complexity of the historical-philosophi- cal study of Georges Bataille’s literary and philosophical heritage, In: particular «Inner Expe- rience», one of his key works, which is about to be released in Ukrainian. To this end, I analyze the biographical and historical-philosophical contexts of writing «Inner Experience». I observe the main events of the thinker’s life, which led to the writing of this work and testify to Bataille’s opposition to the most common artistic movements of (...) the time (surrealism), philosophical theo- ries (existentialism), religious teachings, and, in fact, anti-systemic nature of his work. In addi- tion, the paper tends to identify sources of influence on the formation of philosophical views of Bataille in the period of «Inner Experience» writing. In particular, I analyze the theoretical and political relations of Bataille, especially with his critics (Belgian surrealists group, G. Marcel, J.-P. Sartre), but also allies (M. Blanchot, P. Klossowski, M. Leiris, H. Masson and others). Further, I study the genesis of the concept of «internal experience» formation, its inherent multi- faceted, multi-layered,and metaphorical nature, rooting in the tradition of Christian mysticism and reflecting the state after the loss of faith at the same time. Particularly, I study the image of the labyrinth as one of the most expressive synonyms of internal experience term, which empha- sizes the meaning of this fundamental word-concept of Bataille’s philosophy. To provide the in- tellectual context, I list main points of Bataille’s «Inner Experience» critique by representatives of the French intellectual communities of the 1940s, as well as the main Bataille’s arguments against this critique. Eventually, I analyze the main ideas of his «Inner Experience», as well as the ways how Bataille’s philosophy influenced the key representatives of the French poststruc- turalism (J. Derrida, M. Foucault, J. Kristeva, J.-F. Lyotard). (shrink)

Ce texte se présente d’abord comme une description de deux portraits de Michel Leiris par le peintre Francis Bacon. Mais il s’agit en même temps d’une méditation sur la ressemblance figurative. Que peut signifier le portrait d’un écrivain qui lui-même n’a pas cessé de se figurer dans son œuvre écrite?

Auto : le moi. Bio : la vie. Graphie : l'écriture. Tels sont en effet les trois axes autour desquels s'organise la matière de l'autobiographie? genre littéraire protéiforme, aussi infiniment varié que l'est son inépuisable sujet, l'homme. Telles sont les pistes qu'explore Georges Gusdorf dans ce deuxième volet des lignes de vie, après l'enquête plus historique des Ecritures du moi. Ecrire sur soi, c'est parier sur sa propre survie et la survie de l'espèce, c'est tenter de préserver de la mort (...) la part essentielle de son être. Mais de quel être s'agit-il? Le moi insaisissable, tantôt glorifié, tantôt haï, le moi sous-tend toute vocation d'écrivain, sans jamais se révéler en entier dans l'écrit ; C'est qu'il appartient aux incertitudes de la vie, dans ses continuités et ses ruptures, ses fidélités et ses palinodies. Comme il est difficile de lui trouver une unité, et plus encore une raison d'être! La vaste érudition de l'auteur est un guide sûr dans l'immense corpus de la littérature européenne ; sa curiosité, son mordant, son art du questionnement philosophique en font le compagnon hors pair de nos lectures. Amiel et Paul Valéry, Roland Barthes et saint Augustin, Goethe et Michel Leiris, pour n'en cite que quelques-uns, mêlent ici leurs traces, révélant la motivation profonde de toute entreprise autobiographique, la plus modeste comme la plus ambitieuse, la plus secrète comme la plus somptueuse : écrire sa vie, c'est lui donner un sens. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist NarrativeRandall Everett AllsupEric Prieto, Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist Narrative ( Lincoln NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2002)Modernism. The Interpretation of Dreams, the assembly line, The Rite of Spring, the Panama Canal. The modernist sensibility is characterized above all by the "willful big idea"—history as text, a manifesto in conflict with itself and its past. Hopeful and revolutionary like (...) the writings of Karl Marx or progressive and corrupt like the Manhattan Project, such events-as-manifesto had a way of feeding off each other. Through collaboration, conflict, and competition, modernists from Robert Moses to Elliott Carter raced to explain and exemplify, often deliberately creating conflict as if crisis were its own rationale, its own sine qua non. One could hypothesize that this arms race of complexity collapsed—exhausted—about the same time that Communism did. Its failure to sustain its ideas (rather than outpace them one after another) may be one reason we live in an anti-dialectical world, an unmodern place of fundamentalisms and easy freedoms.Author Eric Prieto is at home in the modern world more so than the present; his heroes are French intellectuals after all, those lovers of complexity. In Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist Narrative, he investigates late modernist authors who looked to music as a way to exemplify the inward nature of mind [End Page 93] and the outward nature of place. To understand this book, we must revisit some formal aesthetic theories, namely that music's value resides in its ability to name without signifying, that musical properties like intervallic distance, dynamic contrast, and the space-time component that is rhythm put us in touch with the Kantian a priori—the-thing-in-itself, the Schopenhauerian will. Music as sound-in-itself (to riff on Kant and Schopenhauer) becomes a metaphor for the noumenal world or is mimetic at the very least of the abstract and non-linear nature of thought. Prieto argues that "wherever a music model is present [among his examples] it always serves to further this inwardly directed mode of mimesis I call 'listening in,' where the primary object of representation is not the outside world but the subtly modulating interactions between consciousness and world."1Prieto's book is highly consistent. He masterfully captures the spirit of cooperation from modernist writer to musician to thinker and back. Concentrating on three authors, Robert Pinget, Michel Leiris, and Samuel Beckett, Prieto cites the influences of composers like Bach and Beethoven, as well as philosophers like Wittgenstein and Schopenhauer on their literary works. He brings in thinking from Nelson Goodman and Ferdinand de Saussure. The result is literary criticism as manifesto. Reader beware, this is a book for an elevated audience, those rare folk who are comfortable with structural linguistics, nineteenth-century music aesthetics, specialized academic scholarship, and word puzzles. To explain for example why an author like Beckett is inspired by music to create abstract or associative narratives rather than traditional stories of cause and effect, Prieto writes:In music, this progression necessarily takes place on the level of audible resemblances, but in literature, by virtue of the properties of the two-tiered linguistic sign, analogical progression may take place either on the level of the signifier (via the principle of paronomasia), on the level of the signified (via metaphorical substitutions, as in the association of ideas), or between the two levels (punning, "imitative harmony").2This density of language and concept speak well of Prieto's intellect and one is likewise impressed by his broad understanding of music and letters, yet it is the musical scholar who gets the short end of the deal. Paronomasia? "Audible resemblance" is not a musical term I have heard used. In Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist Narrative, music serves as starting point, an inspiration, not as an equal partner. This holds true for Beckett and Pinget as well as for Prieto. The result can be disconcerting, even to readers like me for whom the cross-disciplinary study of music and literature is a fascinating endeavor.Difficulty, nonetheless, has its rewards and this is one lesson of... (shrink)

Seul, saint, fou, idiot -- Des deux inanités : de dieu et de l'histoire -- Ou bien Dieu... ou bien l'histoire (Hegel, Dostoïevski, Chestov, Kojève & Bataille) -- Des trois religions des années trente (communisme, fascisme et surréalisme) et d'une quatrième (Acéphale) -- Penser le fascisme (Freud, Reich & Bataille) -- La folie Acéphale (Ou la religion antichrétienne, antifasciste, anticommuniste) -- In-signifiances d'Acéphale (Blanchot & Bataille) -- Le surréalisme au service de la religion (Artaud, Breton & Bataille) -- Felix Culpa (...) -- Éloge du péché (Sartre & Bataille, entre autres) -- Sainteté du mal (Charlotte d'Ingerville & Sainte) -- Vies & livres -- Correspondances coïncidences -- Une amitié intenable (Leiris & Bataille) -- Histoire d'un trompe-l'oeil -- L'idiotie de Bataille -- Une passion paradoxale de la raison. (shrink)

Cet article entend cerner la spécificité de la critique littéraire de l’art telle qu’elle fut pratiquée par les écrivains et poètes en France entre 1850 et 1950, dans le sillage de Diderot, à partir d’un examen des écrits sur l’art de Diderot, Baudelaire, Zola, Stendhal, Huysmans, Valéry, Proust, Reverdy, Leiris. Au-delà des différences individuelles de goût, de statut, de sujets traités et de la prolixité discursive évidente dans la pratique, on peut mettre en lumière les points de convergence qui s’observent (...) dans leurs écrits, afin de cerner le propre de la critique littéraire de l’art du point de vue de la démarche, de la méthode et du style. Ces convergences prennent fond dans une posture commune aux écrivains, qui est celle du non-spécialiste, cultivant résolument la pensée libre et subjective. (shrink)

Transcription phonétique des grands corpus littéraires. Les règles du jeu Le perfectionnement des phonétiseurs permet aujourd'hui d'envisager la transcription phonétique de grands ensembles textuels et, par conséquent, de doter la stylométrie de nouvelles capacités dans le domaine de l'analyse des effets sonores. Cet article montre, sur l'exemple d'une étude de La Règle du jeu de Michel Leiris menée à l'aide de LAIPTTS-SpeechMill (Université de Lausanne) et Mbrola (Faculté Polytechnique de Mons), quelles procédures et quelles précautions on se doit d'associer à (...) de telles entreprises. Le repérage et l’étude des allitérations et des assonances, des homophones, la détermination de la tonalité phonique d’une partie du texte montrent tout à la fois les perspectives et les limites de ce type d'approche du texte littéraire. (shrink)

Transcription phonétique des grands corpus littéraires. Les règles du jeu Le perfectionnement des phonétiseurs permet aujourd'hui d'envisager la transcription phonétique de grands ensembles textuels et, par conséquent, de doter la stylométrie de nouvelles capacités dans le domaine de l'analyse des effets sonores. Cet article montre, sur l'exemple d'une étude de La Règle du jeu de Michel Leiris menée à l'aide de LAIPTTS-SpeechMill (Université de Lausanne) et Mbrola (Faculté Polytechnique de Mons), quelles procédures et quelles précautions on se doit d'associer à (...) de telles entreprises. Le repérage et l’étude des allitérations et des assonances, des homophones, la détermination de la tonalité phonique d’une partie du texte montrent tout à la fois les perspectives et les limites de ce type d'approche du texte littéraire. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Diacritics 30.3 (2000) 106-113 [Access article in PDF] To Die With Others Alphonso Lingis One dies as one dies—as anyone, everyone dies, as all that lives dies. Do we not know that when we lie dying—when, bedridden, hospitalized, removed from our home and workplace, we no longer exercise our skills, launch initiatives, are depersonalized, and can do nothing but wait for the end in increasing passivity and prostration? Did (...) we not learn something of the death that will be our death from every death we witnessed or noticed about us? And when someone with whom we shared our life dies, do we not feel that something of ourselves has died too? In several senses of the word, we die with others. My Own Death It is strange then to see that in philosophy one's own death and the death of others have been separated. Socrates makes learning how to die the subject matter of philosophy and makes philosophy the daily practice of dying. He speaks of the relief he will feel when the opacity of his body will be broken. His last words—Crito, we owe a cock to Asclepius—say that life is the sickness for which death is the cure. Did not Socrates here in fact claim to know two things that he did not know—what death is, that is, that death is a relief; and what life is, that is, that life is sickness?Socrates had seen men die; he had committed himself to defend Athens in war, he had killed men in battle. He does not speak of how they died, nor of the relief he felt when they died.Socrates died the way he did in order to demonstrate his belief that the soul is of its own nature immortal. Heidegger, proclaiming the end of the metaphysics launched by the Platonic Socrates, makes one's own death again the central topic it had been for Socrates. Heidegger is convinced that death is not an accident that befalls a life that of its own nature would endure like inanimate things endure. He sets out to show that we die of our own nature, that our life casts itself with all its forces unto its end.Death and Nothingness Heidegger also claims to know what death is: that death is nothingness. He identifies it—it is this one thing, nothingness. Yet he also insists that my death is utterly my own. From the opening pages of Leo Tolstoy's The Death of Ivan Ilych, Heidegger draws the affirmation that witnessing the death of others is not the source of my sense of my own mortality. At the wake, I have only seen the body of another immobilized, tranquilized, but still fully, completely, there. I have not seen annihilation. But annihilation is what my death will be for me. This I sense in anxiety, that sense of being cast adrift, the environment no longer supporting me, sustaining me—and which is a premonition of being cast into nothingness.Death is ungraspable, unconfrontable; it has no front lines. Is it not too much to say that I know it is nothingness? Must we not rather say that death is the unknown? [End Page 106]I cannot say, strictly speaking, that I die, since—dying a violent death or not—I am conscious of only part of the event. And a great share of the terror I experience at the idea of death derives perhaps from this: bewilderment at remaining suspended in the middle of a seizure whose outcome I can never know because of my unconsciousness. This kind of unreality, this absurdity of death, is (without taking into account the physical suffering by which it might be accompanied) its radically terrible element, and not, as some may think ("Après moi le déluge!" "Since there's nothing after death, why are you afraid?" "What's the difference to you, since you won't be here any more?" etc....), what might make it acceptable. [Leiris 50] We do not know that death is nothingness—nothingness is not some thing one knows. But nothingness is... (shrink)

At the age of eighty, one of the most influential yet reclusive intellectuals of the twentieth century consented to his first interviews in nearly thirty years. Hailed by Le Figaro as "an event," the resulting conversations between Claude Lévi-Strauss and Didier Eribon (a correspondent for Le Nouvel Observateur) reveal the great anthropologist speaking of his life and work with ease and humor. Now available in English, the conversations are rich in Lévi-Strauss's candid appraisals of some of the best-known figures of (...) the Parisian intelligentsia: surrealists André Breton and Max Ernst, with whom Lévi-Strauss shared a bohemian life in 1940s Manhattan; de Beauvoir, Sartre, and Camus, the stars of existentialism; Leiris, Foucault, Dumézil, Jacob, Lacan, and others. His long friendships with Jakobson and Merleau-Ponty are recalled, as well as his encounters with prominent figures in American anthropology: Lowie, Boas (who suddenly died in his chair beside Lévi-Strauss at a banquet at Columbia University), Benedict, Linton, Mead, and Kroeber. Lévi-Strauss speaks frankly about how circumstances and his own inclinations, after his early fieldwork in Brazil, led him to embrace theoretical work. His straightforward answers to Eribon's penetrating questions—What is a myth? What is structuralism? Are you a philosopher?—clarify his intellectual motives and the development of his research; his influential role as an administrator, including the founding of the Laboratory of Social Anthropology and of the journal L'Homme; the course of his writings, from Elementary Structures of Kinship to The Jealous Potter; and his thoughts on the conduct of anthropology today. Never before has Lévi-Strauss spoken so freely on so many aspects of his life: his initial failure to be elected to the Collège de France; his reaction to the events of May 1968; his regrets at not being a great investigative reporter or playwright; his deep identification with Wagner, Proust, and Rousseau. This is a rare opportunity to become acquainted with a great thinker in all his dimensions. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist NarrativeRandall Everett AllsupEric Prieto, Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist Narrative ( Lincoln NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2002)Modernism. The Interpretation of Dreams, the assembly line, The Rite of Spring, the Panama Canal. The modernist sensibility is characterized above all by the "willful big idea"—history as text, a manifesto in conflict with itself and its past. Hopeful and revolutionary like (...) the writings of Karl Marx or progressive and corrupt like the Manhattan Project, such events-as-manifesto had a way of feeding off each other. Through collaboration, conflict, and competition, modernists from Robert Moses to Elliott Carter raced to explain and exemplify, often deliberately creating conflict as if crisis were its own rationale, its own sine qua non. One could hypothesize that this arms race of complexity collapsed—exhausted—about the same time that Communism did. Its failure to sustain its ideas (rather than outpace them one after another) may be one reason we live in an anti-dialectical world, an unmodern place of fundamentalisms and easy freedoms.Author Eric Prieto is at home in the modern world more so than the present; his heroes are French intellectuals after all, those lovers of complexity. In Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist Narrative, he investigates late modernist authors who looked to music as a way to exemplify the inward nature of mind [End Page 93] and the outward nature of place. To understand this book, we must revisit some formal aesthetic theories, namely that music's value resides in its ability to name without signifying, that musical properties like intervallic distance, dynamic contrast, and the space-time component that is rhythm put us in touch with the Kantian a priori—the-thing-in-itself, the Schopenhauerian will. Music as sound-in-itself (to riff on Kant and Schopenhauer) becomes a metaphor for the noumenal world or is mimetic at the very least of the abstract and non-linear nature of thought. Prieto argues that "wherever a music model is present [among his examples] it always serves to further this inwardly directed mode of mimesis I call 'listening in,' where the primary object of representation is not the outside world but the subtly modulating interactions between consciousness and world."1Prieto's book is highly consistent. He masterfully captures the spirit of cooperation from modernist writer to musician to thinker and back. Concentrating on three authors, Robert Pinget, Michel Leiris, and Samuel Beckett, Prieto cites the influences of composers like Bach and Beethoven, as well as philosophers like Wittgenstein and Schopenhauer on their literary works. He brings in thinking from Nelson Goodman and Ferdinand de Saussure. The result is literary criticism as manifesto. Reader beware, this is a book for an elevated audience, those rare folk who are comfortable with structural linguistics, nineteenth-century music aesthetics, specialized academic scholarship, and word puzzles. To explain for example why an author like Beckett is inspired by music to create abstract or associative narratives rather than traditional stories of cause and effect, Prieto writes:In music, this progression necessarily takes place on the level of audible resemblances, but in literature, by virtue of the properties of the two-tiered linguistic sign, analogical progression may take place either on the level of the signifier (via the principle of paronomasia), on the level of the signified (via metaphorical substitutions, as in the association of ideas), or between the two levels (punning, "imitative harmony").2This density of language and concept speak well of Prieto's intellect and one is likewise impressed by his broad understanding of music and letters, yet it is the musical scholar who gets the short end of the deal. Paronomasia? "Audible resemblance" is not a musical term I have heard used. In Listening In: Music, Mind, and the Modernist Narrative, music serves as starting point, an inspiration, not as an equal partner. This holds true for Beckett and Pinget as well as for Prieto. The result can be disconcerting, even to readers like me for whom the cross-disciplinary study of music and literature is a fascinating endeavor.Difficulty, nonetheless, has its rewards and this is one lesson of... (shrink)