Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Les invisibles



What about writing about the good books that have appeared and disappeared, and continue to do so, because, as Jourde suggests, the press is busy talking about always the same few hits? What about the victims of the selection process? Where do they go?
But huge methodological problem: how to find them, or find the good ones among the many appearing and disappearing? Even the infrastructure doesn’t make it easy to find them – selection in independent bookshops perhaps? Or looking at catalogs of smaller publishers? – vicious circle: since they are more or less invisible, they’ll never get a chance to become visible; one needs a minimum of visibility – and when that happens, if there’s a spark that induces the interest of others (doesn’t it all depend on the press in the end? It’s like the mechanics of the stock market a bit, we think there must be some criteria for judgement if we trust critics, but they don’t get to read everything either, and are likely to focus on joining the camps pro or contra an already talked-about author or book, in the interest of being read... who can bother digging out the marginal stuff that might be good? At best marginal radio talk shows (like Nikola and his colleagues do, should listen regularly and let them guide me..), shows that themselves remain marginal…

 

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Start over 2 - The Big Structure Dilemma (in which the big is the dilemma, not the structure)

(A little meta-note on a meta-tone:
Exactly two years have passed since I last tried to retry... maybe I'll try every two years and it will die after two days every two years... what is this with the number two?
Never mind, I have some stuff coming out of me, so I'm putting it here, just to fill the space...
And once here, this time I'll really try to use this space a sort of a research diary. An outlet for messy thoughts.)



The question of order/structuring: THE question that arises immediately when it comes to writing about something in detail, at length: in what order to say all the things that swarm, how to prioritize, weigh points/aspects, how not to subordinate one thing to another, since linearity automatically involves some sort of before- and afterness… The writing on the paper is by force linear, at least in appearance, but this appearance limits the possibilities of linking things, the links would need to go into too many directions.

The sitemap of a study that would want to even just try to follow the “nature” of a complex phenomenon (and which phenomenon is not complex, once you start looking at it from closer…?) would contain numerous links, internal and external ones, and often show circularity in the references and also create endless series of traces… [cf. http://desordre.net/plan]

Writing (or rather: its product, the text) is linear, the links it allows to make are mental/virtual, the thrust of the text needs to be a movement forward, rather than into many directions, for a logic and an argument to unfold and become legible, intelligible. This linearity enables the unfolding/explication of a model, by definition simplified, of a segment of reality a phenomenon. If we accept the impossibility of describing reality in full detail – see the Borgesian thought experiment with the map and the territory – then we admit the usefulness of a model, and consequently the usefulness of linear writing, the explanation that develops in time linearly.

Such linearity nevertheless enables, involves – or even calls for, or rather inevitably ends up in – a root/ tree structure, splitting ends (which could – should – reconnect, but often aren’t?) that represent the different aspects and directions thought wants/needs to take. This tree structure, however, implies a hierarchy, an inevitable subordination, wanted or not. And this logic of hierarchy involves, relies on a centralized thought, which establishes itself even if the original intention was not to prioritize in a hierarchical manner. Deleuze dicit.


The linearity/arborescent structure of writing is also foreign to thought itself. But is thought as it emerges something intelligible or communicable at all? Thought is at first (or forever) something amorphous, even if we link it to language and say there’s no thought without language (and therefore linguistic structures) and comes in bunches (thus the problem of noting down thoughts – can’t type fast enough and the emerging though(s) are requesting thinking in all of the many directions they show/promise, and they urge following all of those at once, under the menace of them vanishing into immediate oblivion... [a thought recorder would come so bloody handy for the moments of inspiration... a machine that could record the several layers at the same time and then replay/render them disentangled, in a linear thread or a 3D image…] Something like this would be Deleuze’s rhizomatic writing: a writing that corresponds to the messy “structure” of thought. The a- or anti-structure, decentralized, the map which, if it doesn’t cover the entire territory because it cannot be the same size, at least it is made of the same material, the same stuff, has the same complexity, the same kind of connection between its components, a living organism rather than a cold and rigid model… 


The price to pay is clarity, potentially intelligibility – the norms of, and therewith the belonging to, a discourse, the critical/academic discourse, which would resist/refuse such degree of deviation from its established ways, such a degree of disregarding its expectations. You need to be a Deleuze or a Derrida to sell stuff like that.

Planes/plateaus can be something like a compromise or alternative to rhizomatic writing.
[TBC]         


Saturday, November 5, 2011

les mots et les choses

It's really all about just finding the right word(s) in the right order, in the right language in the right moment and in the right place, on the right page, and send it to the right people... can I really say that there's no difference between essence and appearance, when it seems so much important how you present your profile than what you (can) actually do?
From another perspective, however, it appears that the appearance is the very essence - and the question is not whether there's something "behind" that appearance, but if that surface is thick and strong enough to make a whole real thing. If it's good enough, it does become the thing, which will then be not less real than as if it had started growing from the inside, as it were... like one kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy...
(ennuyeux comme la pluie...)

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

A good day to start again..

How's that whenever I decide to give it another try, make an effort, I open this page and my mind goes all blank, like this window? The writer's horror vacui, n'est-ce pas (not that I'm a writer.. so why?)
I wish someone could invent and let me have a machine that registers thoughts directly, so I don't need to stop doing whatever I'm doing whenever a genius idea comes while I'm doing something (stretching or running, typically). What amount of bullshit I could pile up here! Well, probably better that I can't mind you...

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Keep talking

I'm back on here after such a long time and am amazed that this stubborn little fish is still here swimming around... such a perfect image of me, it keeps going and hitting his little head against the wall, the limits set to its world by... who, what, when why?? No she can't believe they are really there, you never know, you're here, you're alive, you want to get the most out of it, become better, stronger, happier, you just bloody keep swimming... if it's swimming around, if that's all you can since your space is so limited, then you keep swimming around making the most out of it, at least enjoy the movement, enjoy the dark little space around you, the substance around you, keep walking, keep talking... (Or shut up just to listen to some good music... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7aNugsnUuIs)

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Nothing

Well I haven't been doing this. Just letting this poor little fish swim around eternally. It embodies all my frustration and acts it out - and I keep hoping there'll be none left for my own everyday life.
(It obviously doesn't work. There's still quite some left for me. Am off trying to deal with it.)