9249 lines
364 KiB
Plaintext
9249 lines
364 KiB
Plaintext
DAWN
|
|
|
|
Angels as messengers.
|
|
The angels of the monothest
|
|
tradition (lewish, Christian and
|
|
capable of becoming visible. They
|
|
appear and then disappear. it is said
|
|
that they move through space at the
|
|
speed of their own thoughts. Tobias
|
|
12:15-21: 'I am Raphael,
|
|
one of the seven who are sways in
|
|
the presence of the Lord... it is
|
|
time for me to return to Him who
|
|
has sent me.... With these words
|
|
he disappeared from before them,
|
|
and they beheld him no longer.'
|
|
Rembrandt (1606-69), The Angel
|
|
Leaving Tobias and his Family, 1637.
|
|
Musée du Louvre, Paris, France.
|
|
The artist portrays the departure
|
|
of the archangel after he had
|
|
guided the young man on his
|
|
journey.
|
|
A supersonic messenger: Conxorde
|
|
ANGELS
|
|
Out of the blue, Pia asks: "Do you believe in angels?"
|
|
"Can't say that I've ever met one. Never met any-
|
|
one who has, either," Pantope replies, with a chuckle.
|
|
"At school we used to giggle over whether angels were
|
|
sexed or not. Personally, I find the whole notion rather
|
|
bizarre."
|
|
They're at the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris,
|
|
with the air crew off the incoming plane, standing by
|
|
the baggage reclaim for the Osaka flight and waiting for
|
|
his bags to come down. She's come to meet him, as she
|
|
often does, and she saw him materialize out of the flow
|
|
of passengers at just the same moment as he caught her
|
|
eye among the crowds of friends and relations jostling
|
|
around the arrivals gate.
|
|
ㅗ
|
|
|
|
Aircraft carry letters, telephones,
|
|
agents, representatives and the
|
|
we Use the term
|
|
communication to cover air
|
|
transport as well as post. When
|
|
people, aircraft and electronic
|
|
signals are transmitted through the
|
|
air, they are all effectively
|
|
messages and messengers
|
|
"Still the same old dreamer," he says to himself.
|
|
"Thanks for your postcards and phone calls while
|
|
you were going round Asia…. and the faxes and the
|
|
e-mails... And now here we are, you and me, large
|
|
as life and talking face to face."
|
|
He's a traveling inspector for Air France; he's per-
|
|
manently on the move. She's a doctor at the airport
|
|
medical center; she stays in one place while everything
|
|
else moves around her. Her job is to see to the medical
|
|
needs of people in transit. She'd met him some time
|
|
back when he'd come for a yellow fever jab. While Pan-
|
|
tope travels the world, on his own, Pia has the traveling
|
|
world flowing around her: between the two of them a
|
|
whole universe flows.
|
|
"That's a curious sort of welcome!" he thinks.
|
|
"For ages, all I've had from you has been words and
|
|
messages; but now here you are, I've shaken your hand,
|
|
and you've finally arrived."
|
|
"At last!"
|
|
"Airmail letters and electronic messages over the
|
|
ether-and then you arrive in person. From letters to a
|
|
presence-what a difference!"
|
|
"Any particular reason why you're talking like
|
|
this?"
|
|
"I think it's rather important. Unlike you I see some-
|
|
thing in all that 'transmission' of things. I see angels-
|
|
which, incidentally, in case you didn't know, comes
|
|
from the ancient Greek word for messengers. Take a
|
|
good look around. Air hostesses and pilots; radio mes-
|
|
sages; all the air crew just flown in from Tokyo and just
|
|
about to leave for Rio; those dozen aircraft neatly lined
|
|
up, wing to wing on the runway, as they wait to take off;
|
|
yellow postal vans delivering parcels, packets and tele-
|
|
grams; staff calls over the tannoy; all these bags passing
|
|
in front of us on the conveyor, endless announcements
|
|
for Mr X or Miss Y recently arrived from Stockholm or
|
|
Helsinki; boarding announcements for Berlin and
|
|
Rome, Sydney and Durban; passengers crossing paths
|
|
with each other and hurrying for taxis and shuttles
|
|
while escalators move silently and endlessly up and
|
|
down.. like the ladder in Jacob's dream... Don't you
|
|
see-what we have here is angels of steel, carrying
|
|
angels of flesh and blood, who in turn send angel sig-
|
|
nais across angel air waves...."
|
|
|
|
"Crazy," he thinks, "completely crazy, why don't I
|
|
just tell her so, straight out?"
|
|
Then, out loud, with a touch of irony: "And what
|
|
about all these people crowding round and pushing
|
|
and shoving so that we can't even see our bags?"
|
|
"Take a closer look. The same thing applies. They
|
|
represent the worlds of business, government, media,
|
|
management, science... They're all messengers, every
|
|
one of them.."
|
|
"Even these immigrant workers?"
|
|
"They're carrying messages too. SOS messages to
|
|
the rich."
|
|
He falls silent, momentarily at a loss for words.
|
|
"But," she continues, as if musing to herself, "the
|
|
job of angels is only to bring messages.
|
|
"So?"
|
|
"...bringers of the Word, waiting for the mediator,
|
|
until, in the end, here he is, finally arrived, in the flesh."
|
|
"Eh..?"
|
|
"Don't you see ...? All we really are is intermedi-
|
|
aries, eternally passing among others who are also
|
|
intermediaries? But the question is, where is it all lead-
|
|
ing? Because I spend my life here, in this never-ending
|
|
flow of passengers, communications, conveyors, mes-
|
|
sengers, announcers and agents, because my work is at
|
|
this intersecting point of a multitude of networks all
|
|
connected to the universe... I hear the sounds of these
|
|
clouds of angels..."
|
|
"In a manner of speaking..!"
|
|
"...but without ever seeing their final destination."
|
|
"As for me, I'm here today and gone tomorrow," he
|
|
replies, a touch morosely.
|
|
She returns to Pantope's reply to her first question:
|
|
"Angels are legendary beings. I don't know whether
|
|
I believe in them or not. But how else are we to read and
|
|
understand these sounds, in this hurly-burly world
|
|
where nobody actually lives and everyone's just speed-
|
|
ing through?"
|
|
"T've an idea that you're using the word legend'
|
|
like the legend' that mapmakers put under maps-the
|
|
key that you have to study in order to read them. Am I
|
|
right?"
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
"So you're talking about legends' in the sense
|
|
|
|
A focal point of messages in
|
|
transit. The main Paris airport,
|
|
wthere Pantope has arrived and
|
|
where Pia works, provides the
|
|
stage setting for our dialog
|
|
on angels and messengers. In this
|
|
place of partings and reunions,
|
|
the architecture echoes the ways
|
|
In which messages transit and
|
|
circulate in space; it has diagonals
|
|
traversing a circular intersection,
|
|
in the shape of transparent
|
|
tunnels, travelators and baggage
|
|
conveyors. Automated messengers.
|
|
While it mimics the circular form of
|
|
the world and the universe, this
|
|
miniature model also seems
|
|
aircraft which the passengers are
|
|
waiting to board. It could be read
|
|
as a layout for the story whik?
|
|
we are about to tell.
|
|
|
|
DAWN
|
|
not only of mythical stories, but also that of maps?"
|
|
She smiles approvingly. And then continues, with
|
|
hardly a pause for thought:
|
|
"What is the news that these angels are bringing?
|
|
Who are they waiting for? ... What are we looking for?"
|
|
"Power, perhaps. money..?"
|
|
"... which are also transient. in circulation…"
|
|
"...and which, in addition, speed up all this move-
|
|
ment even more--where's the point to it all?"
|
|
"Who or what are you looking for when you travel
|
|
round the world, Pantope?"
|
|
"Who or what are you waiting for when you're
|
|
working in your sick bay, Pia?™
|
|
She stops, as if suddenly roused out of her reverie:
|
|
"Well at least I knew who I was waiting for.... I'm
|
|
so glad you're back!"
|
|
"So do me a favor, why don't you just come down
|
|
to earth again?" says Pantope, just a shade too abruptly.
|
|
'That's funny, coming from you, seeing you're the
|
|
one who's just landed."
|
|
They laugh. A hit, a palpable hit! What's more, like
|
|
any common-or-garden male, he feels vaguely flat-
|
|
tered: first the phone call to tell her he was coming, then
|
|
his arrival from afar, and now here she is, extending
|
|
this curious kind of welcome. As if he was the Messiah!
|
|
"I guess I'd better humor her," he thinks. So he plays
|
|
along for a while: "Oh, I'm sorry, I was forgetting..... In
|
|
the original Bible scene it was the Archangel who did
|
|
the Annunciation, not the woman….. Excuse me..."
|
|
He bows slightly: "Hail Pia, thou that art highly
|
|
favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among
|
|
women."
|
|
She too bows slightly, looks slightly taken aback,
|
|
and half raises a timid hand.
|
|
The perfect message: the
|
|
Minneson to the viroin
|
|
Mary transforens the Word into
|
|
a flesh that is living. thinking and
|
|
divine. On its own, language
|
|
is a chattering noise, hollow and
|
|
empty, it means nothing until it is
|
|
embodied, made flesh. The perfect
|
|
messenger. the archangel Gabriel
|
|
enacts the Annunciation,
|
|
announcing to the Virgin that
|
|
she is about to become the mother
|
|
of God. His word exists doubly,
|
|
as both word and act. it is this
|
|
perfect dual embodiment that has
|
|
made the scene of the
|
|
anne tron one on the no,
|
|
frequently represented-and
|
|
perhaps the most beautiful--in all
|
|
Van Eyck brothers (1666-1426;
|
|
1385-1440), The Ghent Altar-Piece,
|
|
The Annunciation, 1426-32. Detail,
|
|
upper left panel when closed.
|
|
Belgium.
|
|
|
|
SUNRISE
|
|
|
|
As a message bearer from the
|
|
nito dos rountnwatdtdwh
|
|
"udenteetoust
|
|
fundamental time and existence
|
|
which history lessons in our
|
|
country have never taught. More
|
|
Wet doek one he Wratn
|
|
the absolutely destitute of the
|
|
eorth risk seting even the seeds of
|
|
humanity destroved in them and
|
|
around them by the horror of this
|
|
assault. Can we say that the only
|
|
true man is the man who chooses
|
|
to stand up and confront the risk
|
|
of the destruction AN ARCHANGEL
|
|
calls him the archangel, in the
|
|
sense of the original meaning of
|
|
arche-crigin, beginnings. We are
|
|
all born from poverty, and to it we
|
|
Moawteorn
|
|
Lo wtat eatrenes of éestitution
|
|
must we be driven for our soubs to
|
|
become visibly apparent on our
|
|
hands, our faces, our eyes, in our
|
|
oureordour suoumared
|
|
bodies-as if emanating from
|
|
every part of our bodies?
|
|
"euoneioelsiaheno
|
|
Holding a Soul, Museo Civico,
|
|
Padua, Italy.
|
|
There's a staff announcement over the tannoy: a nurse
|
|
is needed at the first aid center. .. Could the airport
|
|
doctor...?
|
|
With a look of concern, and moving lightly, she
|
|
leaves him. As if swimming through the crowd. Its
|
|
compact mass is hard to penetrate.
|
|
When she arrives at the airport medical center, she's
|
|
met by the sight of a man on a trolley. He appears to be
|
|
unconscious. Ageless— probably between forty and fifty.
|
|
The smell of the man hits you from several yards away. A
|
|
dirty black beard and tangled, matted hair. His feet are
|
|
wrapped in ragged bandages tied on with string. He
|
|
wears a tattered old raincoat. His hands are red and
|
|
swollen, marked with the pale scars of chilblains.
|
|
프
|
|
|
|
"Where did you find him?" she asks the two male
|
|
orderlies.
|
|
"At the boarding gate for the Boston flight."
|
|
"Airlines don't usually carry this kind of passen-
|
|
ger," says the second orderly, laughing.
|
|
Pia checks him over quickly: no sign of accidental
|
|
injury, visible sickness or shock.
|
|
Pantope arrives, case in hand, and pokes his head
|
|
through the open door.
|
|
"What's the matter with him? Is it serious?"
|
|
He enters.
|
|
"More dangerous than sickness, my friend: poverty,
|
|
abject poverty, destitution."
|
|
She turns to one of the orderlies:
|
|
"Did you say he had his ticket for Boston?"
|
|
"Yes, doctor, he was holding it when we put him on
|
|
the stretcher."
|
|
So saying, he hands her the ticket:
|
|
"The authorities in big cities sometimes hand out
|
|
railway tickets to their homeless-one-way tickets,
|
|
needless to say. The idea is to send them off to other
|
|
|
|
From Rio to Osaka, from Paris
|
|
to Brazzaville, in all the countries
|
|
of the world, rich and poor alike,
|
|
there are men and women with
|
|
no nomes, no nearths, no roots
|
|
over their heads. Abandoned,
|
|
and with nowhere to live.
|
|
The ancient Grock cynic
|
|
philosopher Diogenes lived in a
|
|
barrel on the street; St Francis
|
|
traveler; and Jesus himself
|
|
roamed the highways--the
|
|
Gospels don't suggest that he
|
|
actusily had an address.
|
|
Homeless person, Rome, Italy.
|
|
cities and dump them on someone else's doorstep. Do
|
|
you think they've decided to start sending them abroad
|
|
too?"
|
|
"They get thrown out of their houses, out of their
|
|
jobs. No kind of shelter, no place to eat. Now they're
|
|
even driving them out of their own towns and coun
|
|
tries.."
|
|
Pantope: "Do you often get scenes like this?"
|
|
Pia: "Airports are built on the outskirts of cities, in
|
|
the suburbs, what we call the ban-lieue: a place of ban-
|
|
ishment. Excluded and pushed to the margins, the
|
|
down-and-outs end up here. It's almost a law of
|
|
nature. When they arrive, they're amazed to discover
|
|
that they can actually sleep here, in the dry, on benches,
|
|
like ordinary travelers. And isn't that just what we
|
|
all are?"
|
|
"Do the police send them back?"
|
|
"Of course. They spot them by the fact that they re
|
|
not wearing socks. But their movement is like the
|
|
movement of passengers arriving and departing—it
|
|
never ceases. They stay for a while and then move on,
|
|
like everyone else."
|
|
"So you're the ones permanently in residence, and
|
|
they come to stay?"
|
|
"Sometimes we get to know them by their first
|
|
names."
|
|
As Pantope is about to leave again, one of the male
|
|
orderlies comments: "Is there a human group any-
|
|
where in the world existing without poor people?"
|
|
"If rich people only ever lived with rich people,"
|
|
Pia observes, "how would they ever get to know
|
|
humanity?"
|
|
|
|
SUNRISE
|
|
"They'd spend all their lives in the same way that they
|
|
do at the airport, sheltered from life's problems, waited
|
|
on hand and foot … chatting.."
|
|
"While waiting for the boarding
|
|
ment..
|
|
"In order to go where?"
|
|
At that moment, as if he's just heard someone ordering
|
|
him to move on, the tramp opens his eyes and tries to
|
|
sit up.
|
|
"How are you feeling?"
|
|
The reply comes back in a muffled groan.
|
|
"Are you hungry?" she asks.
|
|
In his silent, lucid eyes she reads an extraordinary
|
|
calmness of spirit. Pia realizes that this man is about to
|
|
die, and that he possesses something which the world
|
|
does not: peace.
|
|
Various thoughts cross her mind, although she says
|
|
nothing: I've always known that love has knowledge
|
|
far above any science; you now show me that absolute
|
|
destitution brings a knowledge even higher than that of
|
|
love, but which has never found language-except,
|
|
perhaps, the language of revelation.
|
|
"He's dying." Pantope cries, dropping his bag.
|
|
"Quick, an injection.
|
|
The orderly busies himself; Pia fetches a syringe
|
|
from the pharmacy, with gestures that are swift, precise,
|
|
measured and calm; she kneels down and pulls up the
|
|
man's sleeve to bare his forearm.
|
|
"What's your name?"
|
|
A trace of blood trickles from his right nostril; she
|
|
imagines that she hears him say: "Gabriel."
|
|
"He's stopped breathing; his heart's stopped..."
|
|
The wretched of the carth are
|
|
messengers of an extraordinary
|
|
state which is unknown to us. They
|
|
roam the streets, they keep a low
|
|
profile, they don't say much, they
|
|
reen bar stairstr
|
|
disappear... and then suddenty
|
|
re appeur on a surcet corner. ihey
|
|
are phenoms der they are o
|
|
the sense that they pierce through
|
|
our sendes
|
|
Homeless person, Rome, Italy.
|
|
She leans over him:
|
|
"Goodbye, Gabriel."
|
|
At this moment, the fetid smell which had previ-
|
|
ously filled the room suddenly gives way to a sweet
|
|
perfume the like of which Pia has never smelt.
|
|
"It's strange, you sometimes find that," she muses.
|
|
Pantope, standing, and Pia, on her knees, look at each
|
|
other, with the dead body between them.
|
|
|
|
"As I asked before, who are you waiting for?"
|
|
"Him?"
|
|
Still on her knees, as if in a dream:
|
|
"Poor hungry wretches suddenly set in front of a
|
|
banquet... thirsty travelers discovering a spring in the
|
|
desert... lovers who are cruelly rejected and then at
|
|
last welcomed back... Sometimes I've seen them liter-
|
|
ally faint with happiness... Would we faint in the
|
|
same way, faced with paradise?"
|
|
She pauses for a long moment, and then adds, emo-
|
|
tionally:
|
|
"Unless it's the other way round. Maybe natural
|
|
death only finally occurs when we suddenly glimpse,
|
|
in an instant of supreme insight, the supernatural
|
|
beauty
|
|
of
|
|
that other
|
|
world.. the promised
|
|
world …
|
|
"... the same world as here?"
|
|
|
|
The archangels of the biblical
|
|
tradition: St Michael, in his armor,
|
|
on the left. carries a sword to
|
|
accomoany and protect the
|
|
guiding angel Raphael, the young
|
|
Tobias, and Gabriel, who is
|
|
portrayed as the bringer of the
|
|
good tidings at the origins of both
|
|
Christianity and islam. Having thus
|
|
been announced, life incarnate
|
|
begins, in the shape of this youth,
|
|
who walks, accompanied by his
|
|
guardian angel, towards his death
|
|
and the blade that awaits him.
|
|
Francesco Botticini (1446-98),
|
|
The Three Archangels with Tobias.
|
|
Uffizi, Florence, Italy,
|
|
|
|
In the most ancient traditions,
|
|
messenger-anges don t necessary
|
|
take on only human form; they may
|
|
pass by in a breeze or a ruffling of
|
|
the water, or in the heat and light
|
|
of sun and stars-in short, in any of
|
|
the elementary flukes and
|
|
movements that make up our
|
|
Earth. When angels breathe out, by
|
|
so doing they reveal their message
|
|
twike: what they produce, and what
|
|
they are. Here the breath of angels
|
|
waits over the scene of the birth of
|
|
Aphrodite: Nature, doubly
|
|
presented, as both physical and
|
|
human, breathes into the
|
|
emergence of life and love.
|
|
Sandro Botticelli (1447-1515).
|
|
The Birth of Venus, 1485, detail, top
|
|
lett Until, Horence, Kam
|
|
When a tree moves in a gust of
|
|
wind, physical attributes of beat
|
|
and cold, as well as living elements,
|
|
monumene on tar-rechine
|
|
messages is it recehing and
|
|
traromitting in this exchange of
|
|
fluxes?
|
|
FLUXES
|
|
Roissy. A storm.
|
|
They watch through the window as the red and
|
|
white wind-sock swings horizontally in the air, taut on
|
|
its axis, indicating the direction for aircraft to land. The
|
|
wind is roaring and rattling the windows.
|
|
Pia, stubbornly:
|
|
"In this down-to-earth world to which you are so
|
|
partial, are you aware that angels don't always take on
|
|
auman form, but may conceal themselves in the fluxe
|
|
f nature: water currents, rays of light... and wind?
|
|
Pantope, ironically:
|
|
"That's strange hiding themselves in things that
|
|
are transparent!"
|
|
|
|
SUNRISE
|
|
Pia, stubbornly, again:
|
|
"It makes me shiver, but I can't do without it; my
|
|
skin loves to feel it, but sometimes experiences it as
|
|
agony; it's delightful and agonizing at one and the
|
|
same time; for me, wind is life.
|
|
"Without waming it may turn suddenly from a
|
|
gentie breeze to an icy blast; it may be friendly, bringing
|
|
and giving; like a mother, it may warm and caress; sen-
|
|
sually, it may please, seduce, stir and inspire... But as
|
|
a wicked stepmother it deprives us of rest; and as a
|
|
demon unleashed it violates, lashes, plunders, freezes,
|
|
pushes, disheartens, and leaves us with our nerves jan-
|
|
gling.
|
|
"One minute it gives us the good life, and the next
|
|
it steals it away. When and how does it make the transi-
|
|
tion from giving to attacking, from angel to devil?™
|
|
Pantope, gently mocking:
|
|
"That depends on the health and constitution of the
|
|
person who decides to venture out in it."
|
|
She feigns naivety:
|
|
"Where does the wind come from? Where is it
|
|
going?"
|
|
He is eager to share his knowledge:
|
|
*It derives from the fact that the Earth rotates, and
|
|
from geographical differences in the distribution of
|
|
heat and cold…. It blows regularly along the equator,
|
|
in the form of the trade winds, the monsoon, the
|
|
simoon, the scirocco, the mistral and the tramontana,
|
|
leaving pockets of calm or what they call doldrums...
|
|
In the old days sailing ships always used to travel in the
|
|
same direction round the Earth, so as to keep the wind
|
|
behind them."
|
|
"When there's a wind, whether it's a breeze or a tor-
|
|
nado, what does it bring? What does it take away? Is it
|
|
stealing or giving? What is it bringing? Support for air-
|
|
craft taking off? Clouds of pollen and the lascivious call
|
|
of spring? The destructive power of typhoons?
|
|
"Just to please you, I'll call them intermediaries or
|
|
messengers... No system without things being trans-
|
|
mitted.
|
|
"Ah! So no world without wind?"
|
|
"No world without all the fluxes interacting!"
|
|
Pia, with an air of sensuality:
|
|
"I love swimming in rivers; the caress of a gentle
|
|
breeze; gentle sunshine; and the feeling of fluid earth in
|
|
a mud-bath: the four elements in movement."
|
|
Pantope, with a professorial air:
|
|
"Could we perhaps use one word to describe all
|
|
these bearers? Winds creates flows of air in the atmo-
|
|
sphere; rivers make flows of water across land; glaciers
|
|
make solid rivers, cutting their way across mountain
|
|
and valley; rain, snow and hail are flows of water
|
|
through the air;
|
|
marine currents are flows of water
|
|
within water; volcanoes are vertical flows of fire, from
|
|
Earth into the air, or into the sea; lava flows and mud
|
|
flows are liquid earth, respectively hot and cold, mov-
|
|
ing across land; and drifting continents are moving car-
|
|
pets of land floating on fire; right at the heart of the
|
|
Earth, scientists have identified flows of fire within this
|
|
subterranean fire … and up in the atmosphere and out
|
|
in space fluxes of heat and light.
|
|
"One element passes through others, and they, con-
|
|
versely, pass through it. it supports or it transports.
|
|
These reciprocating fluidities create such a perfect mix-
|
|
ing or kneading that few places lack at least some
|
|
knowledge of the state of others. They receive this
|
|
knowledge by means of messages. Also, the act of
|
|
kneading dough makes it homogeneous. The universe
|
|
|
|
A message or messenger coming
|
|
from the Atlantic. A piture of a
|
|
storm approaching the north-west
|
|
unpredictable intermingling of air,
|
|
heat and humidity, turbulence and
|
|
core the swine need
|
|
atmospheric disturbance provido
|
|
The dinner wind certain
|
|
such movements, the excesses of
|
|
cold at the poles and heat at the
|
|
know it. Thus fluxes which are
|
|
apparently disordered serve to
|
|
Crownre the oorthor
|
|
necessary to life
|
|
imman Granted do the arutal
|
|
photograpns taxen by sate ne
|
|
|
|
FLUXES
|
|
is made of these bridgings which extend out over
|
|
space."
|
|
"But what do these currents bring?"
|
|
"The Gulf Stream warms Brittany; Etna scorches
|
|
Sicily; the White and Black Glaciers of the Oisans cool
|
|
the pastures of Madame Carl; at Baikonur, the rain
|
|
evaporates before it touches ground; and when the tri-
|
|
angle of India met the mass of Asia, the Himalayas
|
|
thrust up their eternal frozen heights to where they
|
|
now tower over the world."
|
|
"What a let-down! If winds, glaciers and torrents
|
|
derive simply from differences in temperature, and just
|
|
distribute heat and cold around the place, where's the
|
|
excitement in that?"
|
|
"We're talking global distribution here! If the
|
|
scorching heat in the Central Australian desert changes,
|
|
it affects the winds at the equator. All of a sudden the
|
|
Nino may blow up, and this plays a role in creating the
|
|
Planet Earth is solid but viscous;
|
|
its structure is created by the
|
|
movement of tectonik plates;
|
|
woman curtis swine
|
|
depths of our oceans; the
|
|
atmosphere derives its stability or
|
|
instability from the corresponding
|
|
stability of the winds. More or less
|
|
slowly, fluxes of every kind
|
|
Carrorm and consere the
|
|
universal order of elements
|
|
Might we think of our planet
|
|
do an immeroe interconnecting
|
|
switem of messaces?
|
|
A chart of the winds over the
|
|
Facilk, on september 14, 1978
|
|
based on data supplied by satellite.
|
|
The arrows indicate their direction,
|
|
and colors show their speed. Blue,
|
|
0-14 km per hour; ourple and oink
|
|
15-43 km per hour; orange,
|
|
44-72 km per hour.
|
|
These soeeds increase in storma
|
|
occurring in the southern roaring
|
|
forties and towards the
|
|
climate of Peru, as well as helping in the formation of
|
|
cyclones in the Caribbean, which in turn affect the Gulf
|
|
Stream, which then goes on to influence the weather in
|
|
Western Europe.
|
|
"Working through a combination of fire, air and
|
|
water, these flows bring the news of Alice Springs to
|
|
Sein or Origny; I admit that the coded message isn't
|
|
exactly easy to decipher, but we're beginning to crack it.
|
|
As the wind hits Cape Jobourg, it informs the first
|
|
French person it meets about events that are happening
|
|
in Florida and Australia."
|
|
"Come to think of it, less of a let-down. I can
|
|
already see angels there."
|
|
"Oh?"
|
|
"Wind is a messenger that may be good or bad, a
|
|
giver or a stealer, chubby putti or devils incarnate.....
|
|
Thanks to the wind, any of those places that you just
|
|
mentioned echo with the totality of space.... One
|
|
breeze bears and announces the whole universe."
|
|
He continues, as if he hasn't been listening:
|
|
"Each flux breaks down into myriad single parti-
|
|
cles, but they all go to make up the world. Each of them
|
|
bears little bits which, when put together, make the
|
|
larger whole."
|
|
She translates this, instantly:
|
|
"At any given moment of the day, the breeze plays
|
|
on your cheek, and since it carries codes from every-
|
|
where, it's telling you about the state of the body of
|
|
the world. If it is able to construct a universe in this
|
|
way, it follows, conversely, that a universal reason
|
|
blows in tiny particles, in legions of angels as numer-
|
|
ous as the multinational crowds passing through our
|
|
airports.
|
|
"Don't forget that in Latin the words spiritus and
|
|
|
|
anima refer to wind, the breath of life, as well as to the
|
|
soul."
|
|
He's taken aback:
|
|
"You're trying to jumble up the human sciences
|
|
with the science of things. That's all we need!"
|
|
She admits:
|
|
"That's because I find the science of things rather
|
|
lacking, Pantope. But by the time we've finished the
|
|
two of us will understand the world!"
|
|
"When, though?"
|
|
"So, can we say that currents create the universe?"
|
|
"It seems so ..
|
|
"In the same way, do Angels-as workers or opera-
|
|
tors of the universe construct God in his Oneness?
|
|
Like your fluxes, they move, they run, they fly, in a
|
|
flurry of wings, music and good news, to announce the
|
|
glory of the One.
|
|
"And in this way huge message-bearing systems
|
|
are created. Systems which are characterized by a circu-
|
|
lation of messengers- bearers of messages which can
|
|
be understood.
|
|
"There we have the constructed networks in which
|
|
we live, and all the various forms of circulation; there
|
|
we have the world of physical fluxes of which you just
|
|
described the possible unity; and, finally, there we also
|
|
have my divine legends: is it possible that there exists
|
|
one single language which is capable of reconnecting
|
|
these three levels which we have kept separate for so
|
|
long?"
|
|
While Pantope hesitates, she continues:
|
|
"If winds, currents, glaciers, volcanoes etc., carry
|
|
subtle messages that are so difficult to read that it takes
|
|
us absolutely ages trying to decipher them, wouldn't it
|
|
be appropriate to call them intelligent? What human
|
|
could ever presume to speak a language that was so
|
|
precise, refined and exquisitely coded?
|
|
"Don't you think it's rather arrogant of us to
|
|
assume that we're the only intelligent beings in this
|
|
world, when the River Garonne and the south wind
|
|
carry with them and express more things than I would
|
|
ever be able to write-and express them better? They
|
|
read instantaneously the messages of other fluxes, filter
|
|
them, make their choice, combine them with their own,
|
|
|
|
Here elements and flures join
|
|
and mix: a liquid flow in which
|
|
igneous solids. water, air, land and
|
|
fire fuse in one sinole cruc ble
|
|
What information is being
|
|
distributed by means of this
|
|
extraordinare coney
|
|
exchanger?
|
|
translate them, and write them on land or water. They
|
|
conserve them for a long time. They express themselves
|
|
through explosions, roarings, noise and murmurings,
|
|
tinkling and lapping. The movements of these fluxes
|
|
need nothing to inspire them, because they are the
|
|
inspiration!
|
|
"How would it be if it turned out that we were only
|
|
the slowest and least intelligent beings in the world?
|
|
Tradition says that above us there are the angels....
|
|
|
|
UAES
|
|
The word breeze connects with
|
|
uWonewriorerAsune
|
|
breeze is broken up, it divides into
|
|
smaller particies. The words have
|
|
wwaie orlein sne toreeetr
|
|
same experience, because, as we
|
|
see wrom the suntace of the sed,
|
|
each wave is edged with a
|
|
multiplicity of smaller waves. When
|
|
a ssror says that treres a tres
|
|
wind blowing, he is, usually
|
|
without realizing it, using a word
|
|
that relates to tractions, tractures
|
|
arxtredoue trocuethus
|
|
"fresh' doesn't mean "cold", but
|
|
broken down into increasingly
|
|
mire we monsorsordeeuixe
|
|
these waves, with their smaller
|
|
wavelets.
|
|
Supposing we were to go along with tradition, and say
|
|
that we also run a poor second to rivers and winds?
|
|
"Breaths of air are rather like life. Without a breeze
|
|
to bring it to life, the sea lies cold, flat and indifferent. It
|
|
needs the wind to write on it, to stir it up, to make
|
|
waves. Sailors and boats travel by means of wind more
|
|
than by the water itself. It is in choppy seas that little
|
|
putti are to be found in their greatest numbers. Wind is
|
|
what constructs the universe, life, human spirit...
|
|
"I find that the process of thought is rather like a
|
|
large, unitary, fortuitous moment of being carried away,
|
|
which is broken down into little squalls and flurries
|
|
which have no particular relation to each other but
|
|
which all come together in a greater overriding move-
|
|
ment. At a level above the myriad angels, puffing away
|
|
with their chubby cheeks and creating chaos and confu-
|
|
sion, a great archangel advances, flying with the wind
|
|
behind him, and it is his will that pushes me in the
|
|
direction in which I wish to go.
|
|
"T'm rather alarmed at the idea that thinking might
|
|
end up being like the destructive seizure that had St
|
|
Paul falling off his horse. In the same way that a sudden
|
|
gust of wind and the pitching of a boat can send us
|
|
sprawling across the deck. A slap in the face, a sharp,
|
|
heavy blow, exactly applied, which makes the body
|
|
unsettled, makes it lose its balance, and draws our
|
|
attention to the proximity of death."
|
|
"And at that point something other begins."
|
|
"What's that?"
|
|
"They say that deep down in oceanic gulleys there
|
|
are volcanic craters where fire still mixes with water.
|
|
Here, in the absence of air and light, igneous earth
|
|
mixes with the dark, black waters, and scientists have
|
|
apparently discovered here the formation of large
|
|
|
|
molecules of the kind that originally gave rise to pri-
|
|
mordial life.
|
|
"That's wonderful! These stirrings, these knead-
|
|
ings, these interminglings, have the effect not only of
|
|
constructing a single unified system, but also, in this
|
|
primordial soup, of enabling the emergence of some-
|
|
thing new.. of life, of good tidings... First came the
|
|
angels, next came Christmas!"
|
|
Pantope, who is partial to a neat idea, waxes lyrical:
|
|
"We scribblers, troubadours, scientific explorers,
|
|
composers of romances, go naked to the sea. We stand
|
|
with nothing save a surf-board, sometimes alone,
|
|
sometimes in serried ranks, before all the oceans of the
|
|
world. The biggest seas you can imagine. In Hawaii,
|
|
perhaps, or Australia.... We stand before vertiginous
|
|
walls of crashing waves that have been created by the
|
|
wind out on the ocean. Meanwhile poor people have
|
|
not much more than mediocre lapping. We get up early,
|
|
come rain or shine, and put ourselves through our
|
|
paces, without ever leaving the beach. Slaves. As if
|
|
moonstruck.
|
|
"Every work of art or science, however large or
|
|
small, consists in catching the wave just right, and fol-
|
|
lowing it all the way down the line, for as long as possi-
|
|
ble, riding the crest, surfing, until we come to the
|
|
inevitable final fall. If inspiration is in short supply, we
|
|
fall straight away, or don't even get moving in the first
|
|
place; but a masterpiece travels fast, moving but immo-
|
|
bile, in a long horizontal plane, just slightly off-balance,
|
|
on invisible lines of force that are etched imperceptibly
|
|
on the wall of water.
|
|
"One might say that it is the act of creation that
|
|
invents them, but true discoverers see the little wrinkles
|
|
written on the liquid— in the brief moments before they
|
|
In many languages, the words
|
|
signifying spirit, soul and God
|
|
breath and light: perceirable fluxes
|
|
whose message-bearing circulation
|
|
transforms and reorganizes bodies
|
|
She their iron
|
|
Are there angels blowing
|
|
through this chapter, in the same
|
|
way as the wind passing through
|
|
the agitated branches of these
|
|
trees with the onset of spring?
|
|
|
|
disappear—and then spend all their life forces and their
|
|
efforts in tuning-in their eye, their bodies and the pitch
|
|
of their surf-boards in pursuit of this poised equilib-
|
|
rium that will carry them speeding ahead, surfing, on a
|
|
line that will end only with death.
|
|
"What flux or current is it that draws out or follows
|
|
a successful musical score and provides it with contin-
|
|
ued uplift? The delicate, fine tuning of the surf-board to
|
|
the curling wave is what enables the surf artist to main-
|
|
tain his equilibrium and surf on it, and to follow the
|
|
flux.
|
|
"A work of creativity glides and planes along a
|
|
fluid roller; and it writes on the wave, as its perilous
|
|
roarings transform themselves into music, and the
|
|
breaking of its wave will become volume uncoiled."
|
|
Pia opposes a breath of air to Pantope's flux:
|
|
"One day, a day lost in ancient memory, but from
|
|
which all our history has subsequently developed, the
|
|
more intelligent of our desert-dwelling ancestors
|
|
became tired of having to carry the heavy statues of
|
|
their myriad gods around in the desert-the golden
|
|
calves, the hollow plaster goats.... They decided to
|
|
drop these pieces of marble and metal which obliged
|
|
them to pursue the localized life-styles of sedentary
|
|
populations. They decided to travel light.
|
|
"Their bodies were suddenly freed of shackles; they
|
|
had free hands, unladen shoulders, and all at once it
|
|
seemed to them as if they were flying: across the plain,
|
|
beneath the vast empty spaces of sky-which their
|
|
newly-raised heads could now see for the first time—
|
|
and they sang, because all they had left was words and
|
|
music:
|
|
"the gentle breeze which makes the moving wall of
|
|
the tent quiver in the desert;
|
|
"the fresh wind that drives a sailing ship on the
|
|
high sea;
|
|
"that transparency of air which can lift you above
|
|
the summits of transcendental mountains;
|
|
"the smallest of elements, flake, smoke, vapor,
|
|
atom, bubble, tiny flux, minute turbulence; the tiniest
|
|
inclination, invisible, intangible, barely audible,
|
|
infinitely weak and fragile, faded, ethereal, airy-—a liv-
|
|
ing breath, a genesis, which sows with its absence the
|
|
totality of the universe, light issued from light, the only
|
|
God, the true God."
|
|
The wind is making their eyes water, and intelligence
|
|
shines from those tears.
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
|
|
The labor processes of what we
|
|
aolcondwotantn
|
|
wer wean tooorah
|
|
Iivestock rearing, agriculture
|
|
MnowsthePromeheonsooette
|
|
which in turn were the mothers of
|
|
our own. Here we have an early
|
|
kesoodsweeed
|
|
blacksmith, using a hammer and
|
|
aril to beat out iron that hao
|
|
furnace. Nowadays we are
|
|
employed principally in
|
|
Krenniitine wusee
|
|
Hercules, with his club, and
|
|
Atlax the bearer of the heavens, as
|
|
well as Prometheus who gave fire
|
|
to mankind, give way to
|
|
messenger-angels.
|
|
Peter-Paul Rubers (1577-1640).
|
|
Vultan, 1636-70, Museo del Prado,
|
|
Wonorstnin
|
|
MESSAGE SYSTEMS
|
|
Cray X-HP/48 computer installed
|
|
"une Cehcontdlm
|
|
Geneva: the Latest stage in the
|
|
development of human tools and
|
|
Cnaloew
|
|
At this hour of the morning, the crowds of men and
|
|
women who work at the airport mingle with the
|
|
crowds of passengers arriving on flights or about to
|
|
leave.
|
|
Pia is one of the former; Pantope is one of the latter.
|
|
"How can I tell whether I'm leaving for work or
|
|
returning from work?" asks Pantope, with a chuckle.
|
|
"My work's coming towards me. What about
|
|
yours?"
|
|
"I travel from country to country, collecting infor-
|
|
mation on the cost of living in each locality. This helps
|
|
us to maintain identical standards for our employees all
|
|
over the world, adjusted to take account of local prices
|
|
I put all this information together, sift the figures, add
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
up, multiply and divide, analyze them, draw conclu-
|
|
sions, travel the world endlessly, and report back to
|
|
HQ."
|
|
"Do you work, Pantope?"
|
|
"See for yourself, Pia. A lot."
|
|
"On the contrary, I see nothing of the sort. My
|
|
grandfather was a peasant, and he used to have to carry
|
|
sacks of flour, branches of trees and bundles of wood.
|
|
My uncle was a blacksmith, hammering out red-hot
|
|
iron on his anvil. This is one of my early childhood
|
|
memories-seeing them sitting down to get their
|
|
breath back, or stopping for a drink because they were
|
|
sweating.
|
|
"Do we really work, in comparison? We sit down
|
|
indoors, in the shade... we go to meetings... we talk
|
|
…..we watch the countryside roll by..."
|
|
"But we do get physically tired!"
|
|
"The history of our families provides a whole line-
|
|
up of historical figures. Do you remember the name for
|
|
the figures who used to carry temples?"
|
|
"The caryatids?"
|
|
"Correct. Men and women. Atlas and Telamon. I
|
|
could imagine my grandfather as one of them-strong,
|
|
muscular and patient. They bore things, in the same
|
|
way that they bore what life had to give!"
|
|
"Porterage in the ancient style: the holding-up of
|
|
unmoving forms!"
|
|
"No. There was more to it than that. Take Hercules,
|
|
striding across the countries of the Mediterranean with
|
|
his club over his shoulder. His work consisted of hitting
|
|
things with his club and, I would imagine, using it as a
|
|
lever to open the Straits of Gibraltar.
|
|
"It's even said that he enlisted the help of the per-
|
|
son who held up the sky, to help him row when he set
|
|
off in his boat for the Garden of the Hesperides. It is
|
|
said that Hercules rowed between Atlas and Telamon."
|
|
"Just like us, then, setting off on their travels."
|
|
"Except that they had to sweat to watch the coun
|
|
tryside roll by ….!"
|
|
"Why is it you're only talking in images, and about
|
|
heroes and gods?"
|
|
"I'm just looking out for keys to help us decipher
|
|
our maps better.
|
|
"When the Industrial Revolution came, my uncle
|
|
was in a good position with his forge. His stock in trade
|
|
was the transformation of things: iron ore became
|
|
ingots, and these in turn became the machines which
|
|
now people the world."
|
|
"All right, then. Allow me to add another ancient
|
|
god to your gods-namely Prometheus, the giver of
|
|
Porterage Ar the end of the
|
|
gigantomachy, or War Agalrat the
|
|
Gods, the mountain collapses and
|
|
buries the giants alive. As
|
|
punishment for his part in the
|
|
battle, Zeus sentences Atlas to
|
|
carry up the heavens on his
|
|
shoulders.
|
|
Giulio Romano (1499-1546),
|
|
the whole tanYalere
|
|
del Te, Mantua, Italy; detail from
|
|
the Giants' Wall. The wall was built
|
|
between 1525 and 1535, for the
|
|
Duke of Gonzaga, Frederick Il, on
|
|
the basis of sketches by Romano.
|
|
|
|
The classkal Labors of Hercules:
|
|
Greek mythology tells that when
|
|
he also stole the 'cup' which the
|
|
his expedition to steal the oxen of
|
|
Geryon, he set up two columns on
|
|
either side of the Strait which
|
|
divides the rock of Ceuta
|
|
(formerly Abyla) from that of
|
|
Gibraltar (Calpe), which thereafter
|
|
came to be known as the Pillars of
|
|
Hercules in ofor to toutn home.
|
|
had reached the ocean in the West,
|
|
to travel back to his palace in the
|
|
tax. This photograph, taken by
|
|
produced in the Mediterranean by
|
|
the teethe neit
|
|
trase curved, message oconne
|
|
waves propagate and generate
|
|
fire. And also a modern demon-the great particle sep-
|
|
arator which Maxwell invented in the nineteenth oen-
|
|
tury to demonstrate that heat and cold could not of
|
|
their own accord be separated.
|
|
"According to those definitions, neither you nor I
|
|
actually work!"
|
|
"But nonetheless, when we talk about work, we
|
|
still use the same word, 'form', which has remained
|
|
identical throughout history. Once we go beyond the
|
|
simple porterage of these forms, after their transforma-
|
|
tion comes information: communication, interference,
|
|
transmissions, translation, distribution, interception
|
|
and atmospherics….. Transmissions and messengers."
|
|
"So we work in the same way as angels, an image
|
|
which is at once ancient and modern. Look at this
|
|
|
|
MORNI
|
|
NG
|
|
crowd in front of us. Not many Prometheuses there, let
|
|
alone a Hercules or an Atlas, but many, many angels, all
|
|
setting off on their travels, all bearers of messages.
|
|
"We no longer work on the same raw materials.
|
|
Earlier forms of work consisted in holding up forms
|
|
that were solid and unchanging; later forms trans-
|
|
formed things by liquefying them; whereas our world,
|
|
which is fluid, fluent, even fluctuating, is becoming
|
|
increasingly volatile."
|
|
Pia says, laughing:
|
|
"Volatilis is the Latin word for things that have
|
|
wings. Volatile is also used of a substance capable of
|
|
changing very rapidly from one state to another. It can
|
|
also be used for something which appears and then
|
|
suddenly disappears. And I believe that I'm right in
|
|
saying that these are three attributes of angels.
|
|
"Why do you find it scandalous to talk about angels
|
|
in the era of information and flying money, whereas
|
|
you were happy to refer to Maxwell as a 'demon' in the
|
|
era of the forge, or of Atlas, previously?"
|
|
Pantope, seriously: "Perhaps if we want to act and
|
|
think nowadays, this is what we have to do. We have to
|
|
pull together the static, statuesque, solid, well-founded
|
|
stable-formed systems-ie. Hercules and Atlas; then
|
|
we add transformation or genesis via the power of fire,
|
|
which is where Prometheus comes in, surrounded by
|
|
devils old and new; and finally the world of informa-
|
|
tion, which is complex and volatile, and the fabric of
|
|
which is woven by message-bearing systems-of
|
|
which Hermes was the forerunner, and which is now
|
|
crowned by your angelic hosts. Is that right?"
|
|
"Skeleton plus metabolism plus nervous system:
|
|
and there you have life!" says Pia, happy to have her
|
|
position confirmed.
|
|
"
|
|
|
|
MES
|
|
EM S
|
|
The beginning of the Age of
|
|
wesownwelnethetor
|
|
messenger god, the forerunner of
|
|
the angels. With his winged
|
|
neodewrne dxcoltonese
|
|
charlot in which stands Aphrodite,
|
|
the goddess of Love, together with
|
|
fros, and Pryche, the soul, The
|
|
wheel flles over the ground. Love
|
|
also flies, with wings outspread.
|
|
yent te oo, onlowemo o
|
|
transmitting signals from her
|
|
extended right hand. The souf and
|
|
nsouowneoolust
|
|
hermaphroditic alliance....tn
|
|
short, the human persona flies, a
|
|
wer wonmes.oeh
|
|
Terracotta relief from Locri,
|
|
Bruttium, in present-day Calabria,
|
|
suuetlw.t44w
|
|
|
|
"And, if we want to write history, we have to pull
|
|
together at least three kinds of time: the reversible time
|
|
of clocks and mechanics, all to do with cogs and levers;
|
|
then the irreversible time of thermodynamics, born of
|
|
fire; and finally the time of what is called 'negative
|
|
entropy, which is what gives rise to singularities.
|
|
"History no longer flows in the way we once
|
|
thought."
|
|
"A small world history of work in three acts, three
|
|
times, three figures or actors, three states of matter, and
|
|
three words which are in fact only one, by Pia, the fly-
|
|
ing doctor!"
|
|
An angel passes...
|
|
A long-exposure photograph of
|
|
the constellation Orion as it moves
|
|
across the sky: three blue stars
|
|
form the famous hunter's belt: the
|
|
red super-giant above the beit is
|
|
Betelgeuse (meaning shoulder or
|
|
armpit in Arabic, beneath the belt.
|
|
Rigel (foot, also in Arabic) shines,
|
|
white and steely-blue; not far from
|
|
the sword, the nebulous patch; and
|
|
finally the pink center. The
|
|
constellation of Orion, situated
|
|
close to the celestial equator, can
|
|
be seen from almost everywhere in
|
|
the world
|
|
|
|
MESSAGE SYSTEMS
|
|
"A pert observation, but pertinent!"
|
|
"Pardon the impertinence."
|
|
"The final time, that of the Annunciation, trans-
|
|
forms the world, whereas Atlas, Hercules and
|
|
Prometheus bring nothing new, is that it?"
|
|
"I would say so."
|
|
"The angels bring the good news... Maybe one of
|
|
them passed over.."
|
|
"Our ancestors stayed put in one place."
|
|
"That's true of Atlas and the caryatids, as porters.
|
|
It's less true for Hercules and Ulysses, who were travel-
|
|
ers to unknown lands. It's also true for Maxwell's
|
|
demons, little gods of local technologies, keeping an
|
|
eye on the counter."
|
|
"While information constructs the universe, by
|
|
means of networks."
|
|
"Our artificial message systems encompass the
|
|
world; and the world in turn is constructed by mes-
|
|
sage-bearing systems: currents of wind and water
|
|
transmit information far and wide."
|
|
"You see: my angel-messengers pop up all over the
|
|
place," Pia insists, doggedly.
|
|
So we have three classes of workers parading
|
|
before us: first the Atlantic, headed by Atlas, which is
|
|
sometimes also Herculean; then the Promethean.."
|
|
":. and finally the angelic, whose job it is to con-
|
|
nect the local to the global."
|
|
"T was coming to that."
|
|
"Yes, on angel's wings. And there you have the new
|
|
Universe, its strange time, and its epic unfolded."
|
|
Pantope doesn't give in so easily.
|
|
"I can go along with applying the name angels to
|
|
message bearers: travelers, messengers, announcers of
|
|
various sorts, all that I can understand…... Even, if you
|
|
insist, the world's flows and waves ... but aircraft!"
|
|
"Do you believe that humanity are the only ones
|
|
who have the ability to emit or transmit?"
|
|
"Humans are the only beings that communicate
|
|
with language!"
|
|
"That's rather arrogant! Dolphins and bees commu-
|
|
nicate, and so do ants, and winds, and currents in the sea.
|
|
Living things and inert things bounce off each other
|
|
unceasingly; there would be no world without this inter-
|
|
linking web of relations, a billion times interwoven."
|
|
"But it's not capable of meaning."
|
|
"Narcissistic vanity! For the Ancients, who were
|
|
wise people, certain angels, the ones who were messen-
|
|
gers or couriers, looked like men; but others resembled
|
|
waves, winds, the sparkling of light, or twinkling con-
|
|
stellations. To this we add the wonders of our technol-
|
|
ogy."
|
|
"You mean follies."
|
|
"I mean reason."
|
|
"No and no again! Science says that there is a dis-
|
|
tinction between the subject, which is thinking and
|
|
active, and the object, which is passive and thought of."
|
|
"That displays total ignorance of the act of know-
|
|
ing! Objects know in a different way to us, that's all."
|
|
"That's untenable."
|
|
She points towards the window.
|
|
"Look at those children out there, playing ball. The
|
|
clumsy ones are playing with the ball as if it was an
|
|
object, while the more skilful ones handle it as if it were
|
|
playing with them: they move and change position
|
|
according to how the ball moves and bounces. As we
|
|
see it, the ball is being manipulated by human subjects;
|
|
this is a mistake-the ball is creating the relationships
|
|
between them. It is in following its trajectory that their
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
team is created, knows itself and represents itself. Yes,
|
|
the ball is active. It is the ball that is playing."
|
|
"That has nothing to do with knowledge."
|
|
"Yes it has. The spindle of the sundial, using the
|
|
sun, but acting on its own, marks the hour of the
|
|
equinox and the position of the given location; memory
|
|
is found, dormant, in libraries, in museums, behind the
|
|
screen of my computer, and in language, both written
|
|
and spoken; this memory is awakened and brought to
|
|
life when the power is switched on; imagination lights
|
|
up, goes out or fades on our television screens... a pan-
|
|
pipe warbles, a clarinet sings, a violin weeps, a bassoon
|
|
sobs, the sensitivity of brass, strings and wood..... No,
|
|
we are not so very exceptional. What old books used to
|
|
call our faculties are to be found here, outside of us,
|
|
scattered about the universe, both the inert and the
|
|
man-made."
|
|
"Images! Fancy words!"
|
|
"Do you really think that machines and technolo-
|
|
gies would be able to construct groups and change his-
|
|
tory if they were merely passive objects?"
|
|
"They're technical objects, and that's all!"
|
|
"That's like saying a white blackbird-it's a contra-
|
|
diction in terms. These biros, writing desks, tables,
|
|
books, diskettes, consoles, memories... produce the
|
|
group that thinks, that remembers, that expresses itself
|
|
and, sometimes, invents. Maybe you're right, maybe
|
|
we can't call these objects subjects. However, maybe we
|
|
could call them technical quasi-subjects..."
|
|
"As if they were endowed with the same qualities
|
|
as us?"
|
|
"Almost! To consider them purely as objects derives
|
|
from the basic contempt that we still have for human
|
|
labor-the abiding error of those who, because they've
|
|
An admirable synthesis of an
|
|
angel in human form together with
|
|
the flux of light from the sky. The
|
|
sundial is usually seen as a clock
|
|
designed to measure the passing of
|
|
the day, but this is only a
|
|
comparatively recent usage. In its
|
|
carliest days, in classical Greck and
|
|
Babylonian times, It was used as an
|
|
instrument of scientific research,
|
|
and particularly of astronomical
|
|
observation. Specialists used it in
|
|
order to read equinoxes, solstices
|
|
and the latitudes of places. Bya
|
|
suitable inclination of its spindle ce
|
|
gnomon, which was arrived at by
|
|
rigorous calculation, the signais
|
|
which it received from the sun
|
|
provided the necessary information.
|
|
It was partly with the help of the
|
|
sundial that the Greeks were able to
|
|
construct a geometric model of the
|
|
world.
|
|
Chartres Cathedral, France
|
|
(1174-1260).
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
40403
|
|
10291
|
|
116.
|
|
0S 2
|
|
R216:
|
|
OOU:
|
|
1 000
|
|
J14
|
|
.4220.7
|
|
200000
|
|
207a,
|
|
THT szU
|
|
900900yg1
|
|
C128
|
|
2128
|
|
80
|
|
R215
|
|
*--)R217
|
|
F216
|
|
اللومن
|
|
R239
|
|
0203
|
|
0212
|
|
* R237 -9
|
|
R289
|
|
C483
|
|
482
|
|
_
|
|
J34
|
|
R484
|
|
Beeces
|
|
16406
|
|
200000d:
|
|
become so used to having servants, think that there have
|
|
to be people between the tools and them!"
|
|
"Artificial intelligence has only just been invented."
|
|
"Not at all! We've always been artificial for nine-
|
|
tenths of our intelligence. Certain objects in this world
|
|
write and think; we take them and make others so that
|
|
they can think for us, with us, among us, and by means
|
|
of which, or even within which, we think. The artificial
|
|
intelligence revolution dates from at least as far back as
|
|
neolithic times.
|
|
"To call these marvelous things simply objects
|
|
B220
|
|
• 그래
|
|
-470
|
|
カイト
|
|
6872
|
|
a list
|
|
1204
|
|
R253
|
|
3-1R261
|
|
R252
|
|
R236
|
|
2113
|
|
لوم
|
|
R238
|
|
卒、
|
|
Two products and preconditions
|
|
of the message age: our message-
|
|
bearing systems function by means
|
|
of machines which, by themselves
|
|
connect up and interlink as
|
|
message-bearing networks. The
|
|
simple, ancient labors based on
|
|
to labor processes of great
|
|
|
|
derives from the term 'plex, as do
|
|
sojectives such as douore, triple,
|
|
all of which refer both to large
|
|
numbers and to loems which are
|
|
characterized by nodes and
|
|
networks that are extremely
|
|
"complex". From the least complex
|
|
to the host Comply eleanor
|
|
Tom Wedo enter ont
|
|
right, micrography of the surface
|
|
of a microprocessor or integrated
|
|
seems to me as idiotic and unfair as saying that slaves
|
|
and women have no souls, that servants have no needs,
|
|
and that children don't need freedom. In other words,
|
|
giving no rights to the world ... all from the arrogance
|
|
of seeing ourselves as the only ones who matter."
|
|
"So you're saying that we're not the only subjects in
|
|
the world?"
|
|
"Like laws and legal rights, intelligence is also
|
|
shared, as are memory and consciousness... I'm not
|
|
saying that contemporary technologies have pene-
|
|
trated the universe of thought all by themselves, but
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
throughout the ages they have occupied a space which
|
|
was close to that of subject: the stone axe, the anvil, the
|
|
hoe ... work for us actively; they are not merely exten-
|
|
sions of our hands and arms. The violin draws the artist
|
|
forward, my pencil writes for me, my language moves
|
|
ahead of me."
|
|
"So why bring angels into it now?"
|
|
"In the oldest traditions, angels do not necessarily
|
|
take on human appearance; they may also inhabit the
|
|
universe of things, whether natural or artificial."
|
|
"So you see angels everywhere….?"
|
|
"Their lot, with all the august title of subject! The
|
|
light that comes from the sun and stars brings mes-
|
|
sages, which are decoded by optical or astrophysical
|
|
instruments; a radio aerial emits, transmits and
|
|
receives; humans do not need to intervene here. As they
|
|
say, when something's working, leave well alone."
|
|
Pantope continues, as determinedly as Pia: "If we
|
|
become angels, will we still work?"
|
|
"Probably never again in the same way as yester-
|
|
day, when our forefathers were out there toiling on the
|
|
land, or laboring over a piece of iron, forming it,
|
|
reforming it, transforming it with their hands, using
|
|
tools and machines."
|
|
"We exchange information with objects that appear
|
|
more as relations, tokens, codes and transmitters."
|
|
"What's more," says Pia, seriously, "in this new
|
|
world of increasing interconnectedness, the old kinds
|
|
of work are fast becoming counter-productive. They
|
|
pollute, they produce crises and unemployment for the
|
|
societies organized around them; they are allowed to
|
|
outlive their usefulness, and become dangerous, waste-
|
|
ful. As a core activity, they enlist and mobilize the
|
|
whole of society in the same way that religion once did,
|
|
The modern ervironmental
|
|
consequences of cartier kinds of
|
|
work. The greenhouse effect, one
|
|
of the possible results of
|
|
polluting the atmosphere with its
|
|
high-temperature gassy exhausts,
|
|
traditional society threatens a
|
|
global warming of the dimate. The
|
|
general conditions for biological
|
|
survival thus become endangered.
|
|
A sinister photomontage
|
|
shows planet Earth offering itself
|
|
up as vicum to the noxious
|
|
outpourings of a factory.
|
|
|
|
or, more recently, war. Disasters always seem to derive
|
|
from things which had an initial usefulness, but which,
|
|
even though they have outlived their time, we then
|
|
continue to operate, despite their enormous costs in
|
|
terms of death and catastrophe."
|
|
"The best becomes the worst!"
|
|
"I remember the moment when I became aware
|
|
that work had crossed from the realm of being a sacred
|
|
value to the point where it had become a problem.
|
|
Already we are really only working to repair the rav-
|
|
ages wrought by that work!"
|
|
"You're making me nervous! Do you mean that
|
|
unemployment awaits us all?"
|
|
"Certainly, and we're going to have to face up to it
|
|
as cheerfully as we can."
|
|
"Impossible!"
|
|
"For hundreds of years science has been working at
|
|
lessening the hardships of labor."
|
|
"Would you say that it's succeeded?"
|
|
"You'd have to be blind not to see it. Why work any
|
|
more? So as to do something less well than a computer
|
|
could do it? Why build a refining plant-wear out work-
|
|
ers, destroy the environment, create crises and inequality
|
|
of income, amass vast fortunes whose consequences
|
|
leave the poor of the world hungry —when some micro-
|
|
organism could actually do the refining process better,
|
|
faster, cleaner and more economically than we can."
|
|
"So building things gives way to computers?
|
|
Amazing!"
|
|
"Do you need something to tell the time with? Why
|
|
make watches when nature is swarming with
|
|
molecules, atoms and crystals with vibrations beating
|
|
in exactly the rhythm that you want?"
|
|
"Where do we find the dial, though, Pia?"
|
|
"Everywhere: in the sky, in hunger, in tiredness....
|
|
It is an irreversible fact that our advanced tech
|
|
ologies are producing unemployment in the old labe
|
|
processes, whereas they should be busying themselves
|
|
with giving us a life like that of the shepherd Aristaeus,
|
|
who had his nourishment provided by the bees. The
|
|
week which began in the neolithic era has now come to
|
|
an end, and here we are, with weeks of Sundays and
|
|
entire sabbatical years.
|
|
"We have done enough in transforming and exploit-
|
|
ing the world! The time has come to understand it!"
|
|
"You're reversing the old slogans!"
|
|
"Data is more of a known quantity, and when it's
|
|
well chosen, it will do."
|
|
"So what will we be left with, in terms of ordinary
|
|
life?"
|
|
|
|
MESSAGE
|
|
SYSTEMS
|
|
Work in tomorrow's word?
|
|
Substances in nature sometimes
|
|
recol more counte erodenis
|
|
than the substances that can be
|
|
produced by human labor. Instead
|
|
of making things, will we one day
|
|
be refing on natural suostances
|
|
to make things for us? Nature
|
|
produces certain liquid crystals
|
|
when new in the curren
|
|
maintain ordered structures, like
|
|
solid crystals. They are light
|
|
sensitive, changing with the light,
|
|
and have rare optical qualities
|
|
which we would find hard to
|
|
reproduce by industrial processes.
|
|
"Knowledge, culture, welfare, art, conversation.
|
|
the life of angels."
|
|
"An inconceivable Utopia!"
|
|
"Our world-the world of communications—-has
|
|
already grown old, and is giving birth, at this very
|
|
moment, to a pedagogical society, that of our children,
|
|
in which education will be carried on continuously
|
|
throughout a lifetime, and the fact of having a job will
|
|
become increasingly rare.
|
|
"There will be open universities all over the place.
|
|
Long-distance learning will take the place of campuses,
|
|
which at present are closed ghettoes for the children of
|
|
the well-to-do, concentration camps of knowledge.
|
|
"After agrarian humanity came homo economicus,
|
|
industrial man; now a new era is opening, the age of
|
|
knowledge. We'll be living on knowledge and the cre-
|
|
ation of connections, and we'll live a lot better than we
|
|
did when we lived by transforming earth and objects
|
|
(which, by the way, will continue by automated pro-
|
|
cesses)."
|
|
"Everybody is scared of this new world, Pia. But
|
|
what's going to happen in the meantime?"
|
|
"We're so keen on hanging on to old things, even
|
|
when they're obviously obsolete or going badly wrong.
|
|
... As a result, before this new world can come to
|
|
fruition (even though it is actually already here with us)
|
|
there's going to be a lot of disaster and suffering-ali
|
|
deriving from our tardiness in understanding the living
|
|
present."
|
|
"More of your Utopias!"
|
|
"Do you know of any single important change in
|
|
history which was not initially derided by some people
|
|
as Utopian, while others saw it as a miracle for which
|
|
they prayed?"
|
|
"Well, my dear, I would say that we haven't got all
|
|
day. Enough of the fantasies, let's get to work."
|
|
The crowds swirl around in the vast interchange that is
|
|
the airport.
|
|
"We're a long way, now, from the lone field and the
|
|
crowded workshop. Our message systems nowadays
|
|
affect whole populations... All of humanity, virtually.
|
|
There you have the heroine of today's tragedy: no more
|
|
actor, no more choir, no more God, nor class.... The
|
|
whole of humanity in a state of interconnectedness."
|
|
"It's true to say that it is a state of communication,
|
|
but what is it saying to itself? And, once again, why?
|
|
And can you tell me how the plot's going to work out,
|
|
and how it will end?"
|
|
"We don't live in a theatre, or in the cinema!"
|
|
|
|
The classical attributes of humar!
|
|
labor are found again in the new.
|
|
The Latin word pagus meant the
|
|
field which the farmer ploughed: a
|
|
term so ancient and venerable that
|
|
religious and cultural terms such as
|
|
organism, pagans, peasant and the
|
|
French pays and paysage all derive
|
|
from it.
|
|
"neare on whiler
|
|
reading-the oldest form of
|
|
storing information that we know,
|
|
and one of the first circuits-
|
|
derives from the same word, Lines
|
|
of writing seem to imitate the
|
|
the microchip take the page and
|
|
the pagus to a further stage of
|
|
development, rendering them
|
|
more complex?
|
|
Raoul Ubc (1910-). Terne
|
|
France.
|
|
|
|
Today, urbanization is moving
|
|
space and Inwading the entire space
|
|
of the planet. It invades not only its
|
|
surface-where cities are growing
|
|
and increasingly merging into
|
|
conurbations and megalopolises—
|
|
but also vertical space, the province
|
|
international purveyors of
|
|
information operating by means of
|
|
orbiting satellites. Like the cities of
|
|
antiquity, this new, single, global
|
|
city is divided- between the upper
|
|
quarters, which are wealthy and
|
|
well-appointed, and its nether
|
|
zones of abysmal poverty.
|
|
A vew of Rocinha, the largest
|
|
shanty town in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
|
|
AJready by November 1987 its
|
|
inhabitants numbered more than
|
|
200,000.
|
|
An office block in the Défense area
|
|
in the west of Paris.
|
|
LOS ANGELES
|
|
"Now, tell me about your trip."
|
|
"The trouble is, everywhere's beginning to look the
|
|
same," he replies, wearily.
|
|
"No," she says, "everything is different. Earth is
|
|
moving increasingly towards becoming one single city
|
|
of interconnecting messages, but each local area within
|
|
it defends its own distinctive identity."
|
|
"All right, let's imagine that we're taking a trip to
|
|
Newtown, an invisible city which has its center every-
|
|
where and its circumference nowhere. We shall visit its
|
|
upper reaches; in addition we shall also visit the nether
|
|
regions of Oldtown."
|
|
"Prepare for take-off," she says.
|
|
"Fasten your seat-belt, my friend. At night, above
|
|
으
|
|
|
|
The city of angels, whose bright
|
|
consteliations illuminate the face
|
|
of the Earth: the whole of
|
|
Western Europe, with the
|
|
the North of Spain; the East coust
|
|
of the United States; Japan; the
|
|
wethe Western delecte
|
|
mary other countries besides. The
|
|
picture shows the present extent
|
|
a nostalgia for earlier ages of
|
|
darkness, when our ancestors
|
|
could still enjoy the soothing
|
|
benefits of darkness and shadow.
|
|
A montage of night photographs
|
|
taken from a satellite.
|
|
our heads, you can barely see the stars, but when you
|
|
look down at Earth it looks as if all the stars have ended
|
|
up there, because by night the world's cities are all lit
|
|
up.
|
|
"The angelic hosts are coming in to land."
|
|
"An appropriate comment, seeing that were dis-
|
|
cussing angels from the point of view of humanity, work,
|
|
towns, language, and transmissions of every kind."
|
|
"You promise that later we'll get to talk about God
|
|
and the Devil?"
|
|
"For the moment, let's keep our feet on the ground,
|
|
if you'll pardon the expression. Let's fly over Holland,
|
|
or Honshu. Keep the map spread out on your knees.
|
|
Can you make out the cities that are marked on the
|
|
map? Amsterdam? Osaka? No, because all we can see
|
|
on the ground below us is houses and factories, with
|
|
hardly a break between them. The cities marked in our
|
|
atlases no longer match up to the reality on the
|
|
ground."
|
|
"So, seeing that our cities are becoming one big
|
|
|
|
urban sprawl and you can't tell one from the other, !
|
|
suppose we should redraw our atlases."
|
|
"For instance, Holland could be the name for the
|
|
urban sprawl that takes in Rotterdam, Haarlem and the
|
|
Polders; Japan becomes the name for that single city
|
|
that runs from one end of the island to the other. Urban-
|
|
ization means that cities are now taking over from
|
|
countries."
|
|
"It would be good to see this from even higher!"
|
|
"For sure! Let's suppose that on a fine June night a
|
|
satellite passes over Strasburg in France. What does it
|
|
see? The interlinking blocks of light of the super-giant
|
|
megalopolis Europe, beginning in Milan, crossing the
|
|
Alps via Switzerland, running up the Rhine through
|
|
Germany and Benelux, going off at an angle through to
|
|
England and crossing the Irish Sea to end up in Dublin.
|
|
A great herd of creatures ranging from Geneva to Lon-
|
|
don and beyond, from Italy to Ireland, as if congre-
|
|
gated by the light, with Paris seeming to stand guard,
|
|
like a shepherd, at a distance. This vast, dense, yellow
|
|
|
|
sprawl of ever-increasing connectedness is reproduced
|
|
in North America, along a line running from Baltimore
|
|
to Montreal; it can also be seen in the Five Dragons of
|
|
South-East Asia. Viewed from a satellite, it stands out
|
|
clearly. Electricity has driven darkness out of the
|
|
West."
|
|
"In days gone by, people used to think that the stars
|
|
were armies of angels. Now they've come down to
|
|
ground level. Like I said before, we're living like angels."
|
|
*They say that cities developed out of clearings in
|
|
forests; now these 'clearings' appear like 'darklings' in
|
|
between the cancerous growths of light from the city.
|
|
The pale mass of Mont Blanc and the Alps become oblit-
|
|
erated.
|
|
"One single city per region or island, then one per
|
|
continent, and finally one for the entire world. New-
|
|
town, with its interlinking brilliances, tends to become
|
|
one single entity.
|
|
"This slow filling-in with light is increasingly
|
|
encroaching on the remaining black patches of fields,
|
|
mountains, lakes and forests. while at the same time
|
|
remaining invisible for those who live in it, because its
|
|
lattice-work supplies, invents and multiplies every
|
|
kind of light, illumination, aerial views and science.
|
|
|
|
Solitude, silence, calm, serenity....
|
|
overcrowded cities that oulse with
|
|
the noise of motors, chainsaws,
|
|
pneumatic drills, radios and
|
|
loudsocakers. The onslaught of
|
|
lighting in every available space.
|
|
The proliteration of the written
|
|
word. Strident advertaing
|
|
Increasing speeds of journeys. The
|
|
agitation of human intercourse.
|
|
And the lightning passage of
|
|
time.... Are we willing to lose
|
|
peace and life, come what may?
|
|
an anonymous cowice monk
|
|
standing in the park of the Abbey
|
|
of Camaldoli, Tuscany, Italy, 1992.
|
|
"We now live in Newtown-under-Light. This city is
|
|
new, will soon become the world's only city, and will
|
|
have as much light as you can imagine ... it is like liv-
|
|
ing in the center of some huge bright eye; being blinded
|
|
by the light, we cannot see it."
|
|
"Contrary to what the Scriptures describe, where
|
|
the light shineth in darkness, here we have light exclud-
|
|
ing darkness."
|
|
"Caught in this web of light, we have no choice but
|
|
to live in it, try as we may to take refuge in secluded
|
|
valleys, or pack our ropes and go climbing up sheer
|
|
rock-faces in the mountains."
|
|
"Unlike the olden days, when prophets wailed in
|
|
lamentation over the fate of cities that had been
|
|
destroyed, today we weep for the loss and destruction
|
|
of forests and deserts, of monasteries and places of
|
|
retreat, of the silence and solitude which is so necessary
|
|
for thought. The city of light penetrates the shadows,
|
|
thrusts its disturbing presence into the midst of tran-
|
|
quillity, violates the silences of nature with its written
|
|
matter, eradicates species.... We can no longer hear the
|
|
chanting of our new lamentations, because we are
|
|
deprived of that ancient silent space which once lent
|
|
itself to transporting the clamors of despair.
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
"Our culture has never taught us the phrases to cry
|
|
out against the death of the countryside, where it's
|
|
strangled by the horizontal and vertical cancerous
|
|
spread of this universal Newtown."
|
|
"How has it suddenly become vertical?"
|
|
"Has anyone ever calculated how many hundreds
|
|
of aircraft there are, at any given moment-and here
|
|
I'm talking about all the time—-hurtling round at two
|
|
thousand meters above the earth?"
|
|
"Millions of human beings— here are your angels,
|
|
Pia-inhabit the upper reaches of this city, which
|
|
remain absolutely stable, albeit moving at subsonic
|
|
speeds. I too number among their legions! Do you want
|
|
my address? A340; OSA-CDG; 14F. Decipher that, if
|
|
you please!"
|
|
"Type of aircraft; direction of flight; seat number."
|
|
"The people change, but the airline remains the
|
|
same."
|
|
"What should we call this upper zone?" Pia asks.
|
|
"Angeville, Agen, Angers...?"
|
|
"No, I know..! Los Angeles!"
|
|
They laugh.
|
|
"An upper zone which is reproduced at an even
|
|
higher level by rings of orbiting and stationary satel-
|
|
lites, launched from the equatorial suburbs of Kourou,
|
|
Baikonur and Cape Canaveral, and by a hundred net-
|
|
works for the communication of electromagnetic mes-
|
|
sages."
|
|
"The new aristocracy live less and less in the lower
|
|
zones, and increasingly inhabit these world-encom-
|
|
passing zones of airline flights and airwaves."
|
|
"They sleep there, and they eat there. Lo and
|
|
behold, the biggest restaurant in this aptly-named aerial
|
|
Los Angeles. In flight, day after day, it distributes hun-
|
|
dreds of thousands of identical, insipid, sickly-sweet
|
|
meals, which are eaten simultaneously by real neigh-
|
|
bors, all strapped in, sitting at identical troughs and
|
|
going through identical motions, as if by some predeter-
|
|
mined harmony. Who can I say is my neighbor? While
|
|
my neighbor is flying and drinking over Labrador, I'm
|
|
lunching and sleeping over Spain or New Zealand.
|
|
We're both close and distant at the same time."
|
|
"The Universal Supper. How would you paint that,
|
|
Leonardo? Who would ever have imagined that the
|
|
banquet of angels could be so banal?"
|
|
"We also have one identical auditorium, spread
|
|
across a thousand mobile locations, reproducing one
|
|
single video show which, whether in one's own home
|
|
or elsewhere, whether up in the air or down below, only
|
|
permits us to see the outside on condition that we stay
|
|
inside. Soon, Angel-Newtown will produce only one
|
|
single spectacle. Close the portholes against the Earth's
|
|
splendid landscapes, so that we can drug ourselves on
|
|
low-grade movies!"
|
|
"Urban space is gradually taking over the world at
|
|
the horizontal level, and now it's revolving too."
|
|
"It's taking off and flying. Is it the rotation of the
|
|
Earth that sets this ascendent sublimation of history in
|
|
motion, by centrifugal force? Having taken over the
|
|
world horizontally, Newtown is now taking off verti-
|
|
cally."
|
|
"The cities of earlier ages vied with each other in
|
|
constructing pyramids, ziggurats, skyscrapers, cathe-
|
|
dral towers and spires, reaching ever upwards as a way
|
|
of affirming their mastery, their pride, their yearnings
|
|
and their piety: a race to see who could get highest,
|
|
using the weighty forms of stone, iron, glass and con-
|
|
crete. Now, freed from substantiality and weightiness,
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
Will Newtown succeed where
|
|
Babel failed? Gathering together
|
|
every language in the world
|
|
Wore construe ton of tu
|
|
universal city ... that same city
|
|
networks-cover the entire faxe of
|
|
an Earth which may now be seen as
|
|
one single entity, by virtue of its
|
|
necessary interconnectedness. The
|
|
present-osy counterpostion of the
|
|
local and the global, of
|
|
multiculturalism and scientific
|
|
way, the story of the Tower of
|
|
the building or the lower o
|
|
Babel, sixteenth-century Flemish
|
|
painting. Pinacoteca Nazionale,
|
|
the inhabitants of Newtown have taken off and are
|
|
reaching heights that are almost literally astronomical.
|
|
"Are we now living at the top of the ladder of the
|
|
angels?"
|
|
"Let us go lower, to take a look at your ordinary,
|
|
average traveling mortal: the carpet that leads from the
|
|
side of his bed takes him downstairs into a hallway
|
|
which leads to a garage, where he finds the car which
|
|
will take him down the street, to connect with the
|
|
motorway which takes him to the airport, and a flight
|
|
to somewhere or other, during which he is able to
|
|
phone anyone who may care to talk to him, or he may
|
|
receive e-mail on his portable computer, via a link to the
|
|
|
|
LOS ANGELES
|
|
computer terminal that is sitting next to his bed.
|
|
"Nobody leaves interiors any more: of the hotel, of
|
|
the bus, of the station, of the aircraft … even of the her-
|
|
meticism which protects messages. As was the case
|
|
with the films, just now, so it is with Newtown. It has no
|
|
"Newtown is organized around a single ribbon, the
|
|
outside of which is indistinguishable from the inside, a
|
|
road which goes from a pedestrian footpath to a wide
|
|
boulevard, or, if you prefer-I click or zap-an airport
|
|
runway, or, if I choose differently—I zap or click—to a
|
|
fax line, a radio or a television... It interconnects with
|
|
such diverse media— the body, one's car, wings and air-
|
|
waves that one can say that it reproduces the curve
|
|
which passes through all the points of the variety
|
|
within which it develops, by penetrating through dif-
|
|
ferent dimensions."
|
|
"Isn't science amazing!" Pia cries, with mock ingen-
|
|
uousness.
|
|
"A path with a choice of options, which gives you
|
|
Mobius Street, Von-Koch promenade (he was the
|
|
Some places in the world
|
|
resemble a holary, the books of
|
|
which describe the world itself. To
|
|
pile up separate sheets, portolanos,
|
|
plans, maps and networks... one
|
|
on op or the outsieh
|
|
these intercommunikations? Since
|
|
we are now beginning to have
|
|
intercommunication, does this
|
|
mean that from now on we
|
|
than getting them to communicate
|
|
an astortment of kattered
|
|
among themselves. However,
|
|
countries?
|
|
A slate quarry in Alta, Norway.
|
|
inventor of the graph that passes through all points)
|
|
and Macintosh Avenue all rolled into one.
|
|
"By means of this single highway, the intersections
|
|
of which are constructed out of our multiple choices,
|
|
Newtown creates linkages between all spaces, whether
|
|
concrete or abstract, of this world and of any other: it
|
|
creates links between towns,
|
|
houses and othoes,
|
|
women and men, science and information, ideas and
|
|
notions... But also, and more particularly, between
|
|
cities and men, women and emotions, offices and
|
|
ideas.…."
|
|
"That's exactly what I've been looking for, Pantope.
|
|
Why is it that angels can pass everywhere? Because
|
|
they have the facility of this single universal highway.
|
|
You'll soon end up talking like me."
|
|
"Present-day communications break down every
|
|
obstacle: we now know how to join together things that
|
|
are very different — dots to words, spaces to discourses,
|
|
things to signs."
|
|
"So now we have the abstract mixed in with the
|
|
concrete, down to the tiniest of fragments! The word
|
|
has indeed become flesh!"
|
|
"The transport systems of previous ages were rec-
|
|
ognizable by the flatness of their networks. They con-
|
|
nected positions which were of the same nature and
|
|
within the same dimension: a map of Roman roads, for
|
|
instance, or the locations served by an airline company.
|
|
... These layouts were almost naturalistic, comparable
|
|
perhaps to rivers on a map— in fact one used to take the
|
|
coach in the same way that today one takes the plane,
|
|
and in other instances people took boats on rivers.
|
|
Cities as we have known them thus far, as ensembles of
|
|
streets, form one such independent grid.
|
|
"The new media traverse spaces of an entirely
|
|
|
|
different nature: physical space, yes, stones, peo-
|
|
ple, languages, the encyclopedia of knowledge ..
|
|
and they have us moving from the worldly to the
|
|
spiritual, from the earth to the alphabet, or vice
|
|
"Yesterday's media formed a mille-feuille, in which
|
|
the various different sheets, piled one on top of the
|
|
other, remained separate, isolated in their own dimen-
|
|
sion, while today's interconnectedness pierces verti-
|
|
cally through the stack, or punches through between
|
|
varieties, thus enabling them to intercommunicate."
|
|
"Pantope, what we have here is a pantopia taking
|
|
the place of Utopia. Imaginary travelers used to describe
|
|
the islands of Utopia-from the Greek ou topas-which
|
|
meant 'Nowhere'. But our angelic city is to be found
|
|
cvnneicre"
|
|
He is pleased to have his position confirmed. He
|
|
laughs.
|
|
"In the old days, when we left the countryside, the
|
|
square of the village where we lived or the yard where
|
|
|
|
The new city of angels bears
|
|
a striking resemblance to the
|
|
symbolic heavenly Jerusalem of
|
|
antiquity, our problems are similar
|
|
to the ones that exercized the
|
|
mind on the Mie doo
|
|
which Dante addressed in his
|
|
Divina Commedia: where, today,
|
|
wthin ches gloeal ey, are we to
|
|
find hell, purgatory and paradise?
|
|
The anawers to this question are
|
|
moment, painful, obvious and
|
|
crying out to be recognized.
|
|
tweifth-century fresco from the
|
|
ceiling of the Church of
|
|
Saint-Theudère, Saint-Chef near
|
|
Bourgoin-Jallicu, Isère, Franxe.
|
|
we worked, we were always tied to a particular net-
|
|
work of transport. But now we have the ability to
|
|
travel from any one point to any other.
|
|
"It is as if there exists everywhere an interchange
|
|
which is stable, universal and mobile, whose nodal
|
|
points connect things which, previously, were not
|
|
related
|
|
tinct realities."
|
|
"This invisible Newtown conceals at least two dis-
|
|
"An earthly city? Certainly, since, moving beyond
|
|
localized patches of terrain, it is invading the Earth as a
|
|
whole sea, continents, mountains and the very atmo-
|
|
sphere-in short, the entire planet, and not just the
|
|
humus from which we get our designation as 'humans'.
|
|
"A heavenly city? Yes, that too, because it is invad-
|
|
ing the upper regions of the stratosphere and reaching
|
|
out into the suburbs of interplanetary space, to Mars,
|
|
Venus and Jupiter. But above all because it is pursuing
|
|
a new vocation that is abstract, scientific and informa-
|
|
tional.
|
|
|
|
This tree-a Tree of Knowledge,
|
|
perhaps-had its roots in a lowly,
|
|
wretched shanty town; then it
|
|
grew, straight and upright, to soar
|
|
above the city. its sparse foliage
|
|
the wealthy upper city. it is
|
|
emblematic for a rescing of this
|
|
chapter, and for a reading of the
|
|
world as it is today.
|
|
|
|
LOS ANGELES
|
|
"In short, and interchanger or intermediary city. A
|
|
purgatory or transitional space between the hot hell of
|
|
old-style labor processes and the speculative paradise
|
|
of new technologies.
|
|
"Is this twin-reality Newtown constructing the
|
|
House of Angels?
|
|
"Should we rewrite Dante and St Augustine?
|
|
"The philosophers of classical antiquity made a dis-
|
|
tinction between things and signs. This separation is an
|
|
obstacle if we're looking to understand the world as it is
|
|
today.
|
|
"Newtown industrializes signs,
|
|
manufactures
|
|
things with information, constructs the universe with
|
|
wind, does not remain obtusely materialist within mat-
|
|
ter, but goes beyond and carries materialism into soft-
|
|
ware."
|
|
"Here the word becomes flesh—in other words
|
|
glass, steel, concrete, machinery, world. In techno-
|
|
logies the techno comes to be replaced by the logos."
|
|
"The population of Newtown no longer goes to
|
|
work—to the factory, or to the office-as you might
|
|
think, but to school. From the moment the day starts,
|
|
the teaching never stops, not even at lunchtime or at
|
|
night. Television, radio, mass media and telecommuni-
|
|
cations, never cease their endless chatter..."
|
|
"As a pedagogical society, Newtown only obeys
|
|
bosses and politicians if they become teachers."
|
|
"The industrial revolution has encroached on the
|
|
realm of the spirit, and is transforming this global city
|
|
into an intellectual cloister."
|
|
"Thus, once words come to dominate and occupy
|
|
flesh and matter, which were previously innocent, all
|
|
we have left is to dream of the paradisaical times in
|
|
which the body was free, and could run and enjoy sen-
|
|
sations at leisure. If a revolt is to come, it will have to
|
|
come from the five senses!"
|
|
"So Newtown is an unimaginable mediator, invisi-
|
|
ble and all-embracing, informatic, pedagogic, stable in
|
|
its rapid intercommunications- cars, aircraft, satellites,
|
|
transmissions and messages may circulate as fast as
|
|
they like, but there still remains in movement a more or
|
|
less equivalent number, which makes the city and with
|
|
which it hums-realizing intimate proximities across
|
|
immense distances. I never leave the woman who waits
|
|
for me, and whose voice I hear all the time wherever I
|
|
go, and whose face I see likewise, in image: invariant
|
|
albeit varying, moving but not moving-Newtown has
|
|
its center everywhere and its circumference nowhere.
|
|
"We have built a world city."
|
|
"Given that it's relentlessly invading space, does
|
|
this mean that it loses the possibility of history, which
|
|
previously progressed by means of exploration of
|
|
unknown territories? Does the end of extensivity mark
|
|
the end of our adventures? Have you noticed how
|
|
nobody has time any more?"
|
|
"It's not as simple as that. These spatial dimensions
|
|
presuppose violent movement; they presuppose enor-
|
|
mous forces at work, reserves of power to produce
|
|
them, as well as reserves of knowledge to liberate them.
|
|
Nowadays we live not so much in houses as in our sci-
|
|
ences: in mechanics since the classical era; in thermody-
|
|
namics since the nineteenth century; and in information
|
|
theory in our own century."
|
|
"Begotten by writing, scientific and technological
|
|
knowledge construct this new city, and at the same time
|
|
the city destroys anything of antiquity that remains
|
|
within it. Just take a look: industrial suburbs taking
|
|
over more and more of the countryside, to the point of
|
|
|
|
MORNINO
|
|
suffocation, and the aggressive hell of commercial
|
|
advertising-violent, gaudy and howling with ugli-
|
|
ness."
|
|
"You're exaggerating, Pia."
|
|
"Once, not so long ago," she says, "we placed our
|
|
hopes in the City of God, because we recognized that
|
|
human constructions were potentially so evil that one
|
|
day they might end up destroying themselves, or
|
|
destroying each other. Now here we have something
|
|
new in our history: this new city is a single, indestruc-
|
|
tible, universal entity which allows us to place our
|
|
hopes only in itself and in its achievements. Further-
|
|
more, people can only enter it if they know how to
|
|
access it everywhere. But, in former times, paradise was
|
|
only conceived and imagined as the elsewhere of inac-
|
|
cessible hope.
|
|
"Neither the great religious traditions, nor the
|
|
genius of Dante ever foresaw that one day we would be
|
|
able to communicate instantaneously all across the
|
|
world, by technologies resembling the Golden Bough.
|
|
"Once upon a time men were mobile, errant adven-
|
|
turers, heroes, half-gods or born of men; and in those
|
|
days they traveled through dangerous lands and rivers,
|
|
through meadows of asphodel and the fire of God. By
|
|
strength or ingenuity they would overcome a thousand
|
|
obstacles, or span in an instant the distances between
|
|
Earth and heaven. In any event, they were required
|
|
either to defy death or to seek salvation by pursuing a
|
|
life of charity.
|
|
"Nowadays the city even works for everyone. This
|
|
Newtown is a vertical city, a new purgatory, which
|
|
comes close to paradise, but in the process produces
|
|
hell."
|
|
"No!"
|
|
What value do we we set on
|
|
these flying angels, these gods,
|
|
these highest inhabitants of the
|
|
hypertechniel verdest city,
|
|
Astronauts in a state of
|
|
weightlessness.
|
|
|
|
"Yes! Its sciences and technologies, its movements
|
|
and its motive forces-animal power, muscle power,
|
|
coal, oil, electricity, atomic energy-bring it to the
|
|
point of occupying all space on Earth, whereupon it
|
|
then reaches up, instantly, into the sky, as high as it
|
|
can. It develops by means of savage competition,
|
|
rivalry, dispute, emulation, fighting, assaults, wars
|
|
and never-ending internecine conflicts. The flames of
|
|
all this feed and fuel its incessant rise, while at the
|
|
same time ejecting downwards, by way of exhaust,
|
|
the debris and dross of increasing numbers of spaces
|
|
and men-obsolete, beaten, overtaken, defeated, con-
|
|
victed of errors, faults and crimes, and reduced to
|
|
ignorance, to miserable poverty, to disease and death.
|
|
"This intermediary Newtown, firing off into the
|
|
heavens like a comet, produces a heaven that is avail-
|
|
able for fewer and fewer people, and an increasingly
|
|
extensive and substantive hell. And it leaves human
|
|
cities destroyed in its wake. Is it the bottom of the lad-
|
|
der, or the denouement of the action?"
|
|
She continues, warming to her theme:
|
|
"Our cultures contain no text, either literary or reli-
|
|
gious, to enable me to sing the modern lamentation that
|
|
I'm wanting to put into song:
|
|
they're in their death throes, about to die, crushed
|
|
under the weight of their growing population;
|
|
|
|
how many towns and villages of Africa are suffer-
|
|
ing the horrors of famine and the nightmare of epi-
|
|
demics;
|
|
how many cities of the Americas are laboring under
|
|
the pressure of huge shanty towns, exponential growth
|
|
and the prostituted delinquency of millions of children;
|
|
cities in Asia with no refuse disposal services,
|
|
invaded by rats and threatened by plague;
|
|
cities in Bangladesh, drowned under biblical rain-
|
|
storms because they have no flood defences;
|
|
a hundred unnamed communities living with the
|
|
threat of Aids…
|
|
...and Newtown itself, penetrated, breached and
|
|
... Compared to the value of
|
|
these dead humans lying next to
|
|
each other, in the horizontal,
|
|
flooded-out city down below?
|
|
After the monsoon, near the
|
|
village of Balvadar-Palli, Bengal,
|
|
todia, November 19, 1977.
|
|
invaded by the Third World in the form of the Fourth
|
|
World: unemployment, drugs, poverty, destitution,
|
|
indigence, migration, dirt, delinquency, dereliction.
|
|
Here we see it, before our very eyes-Oldtown of the
|
|
Archangels. It too is one single city today, embodying,
|
|
summarizing and incorporating the destroyed cities of
|
|
earlier phases of our culture and our memories. It is
|
|
vaster in extent even than Newtown itself, and is inte
|
|
grally linked with it, except that it cannot hope to rise
|
|
so high towards the stars. They reappear before us—
|
|
new and ancient Troys, destroyed; Jerusalem, demol-
|
|
ished; Rome, conquered, sacked and ravaged; Con-
|
|
stantinople, burned; Hiroshima, bombed ….. as lowly
|
|
|
|
A NI
|
|
E L E S
|
|
old quarters of Newtown. Here, most particularly, we
|
|
have our most ancient history, unmoving now, as if
|
|
strung out in extensivity, for a general repetition, deso-
|
|
late witnesses of the era in which, being subjected to
|
|
the empire of old necessity, we did not produce our
|
|
misfortunes by means of science.
|
|
"The time of history now appears frozen, as if
|
|
immobile in space, like some Dantean scale of degrees.
|
|
"In this ancient city, our first parents are dying. Our
|
|
originary, religious founding culture is dying of famine,
|
|
dirt, disease and dereliction among the actual and pri-
|
|
mal chaos which Newtown carries within it and pro-
|
|
duces by its rising.
|
|
"There's an answer to the question, my friend: what
|
|
are we talking about, across the networks which form
|
|
the universe?
|
|
"Of this primordial death, the node of the tragedy."
|
|
"A city of the most ferocious inequality?" he asks.
|
|
"Yes," she says, "a ladder of injustice."
|
|
The Trojan Wars, the sack of
|
|
Kome, the dekructions ot Aiba.
|
|
Jerusalem and Athens, the fire of
|
|
Alexandris, the taking of
|
|
Constantinople... In history and
|
|
was terreineohcurooew
|
|
built on the ruins and destruction
|
|
of these primitive cities.... The
|
|
nolaKeinurtohhtreon
|
|
London, the sun of Hiroshima…
|
|
Is this history being perpetuated?
|
|
Which America was the basis for
|
|
the disappesrance of the primitive
|
|
CwrcooewenuYant
|
|
Over what ruins does the new and
|
|
universal city now fly?
|
|
Undecorated royal houses,
|
|
close to the prison quarters,
|
|
woenu ticen.2e thertn
|
|
high up in the Andes,
|
|
Peru.
|
|
|
|
Jacob took of the stones of that
|
|
place, and put them for his pillows,
|
|
And he dreamed, and beholda
|
|
ladder set on the earth, and the top
|
|
of it reached to heaven: and behold
|
|
the anges of god sscending and
|
|
ord stood above it, and said, i am
|
|
the Lord God of Abraham thy
|
|
father, and the God of isaac."
|
|
(Genesis, 28:11-13)
|
|
Iacob's Ladder, Avignon School,
|
|
Musée du Petit-Palais, Avignon,
|
|
LADDERS
|
|
The messages carried by our voices
|
|
are made up of various
|
|
components: a basis consisting of
|
|
background noise; then a musicality
|
|
of sounds accompanied by
|
|
phonemes, varying according to the
|
|
language that is being spoken; and
|
|
finally meaning. For what
|
|
realia ton die michae
|
|
message-bearing ensemble of these
|
|
scales or ladders unceasingly
|
|
Ha nade ternaton dos commu
|
|
our world-fashioned as it is by the
|
|
word-our writings and our words.
|
|
A spestrogram of the human voice.
|
|
Pia says:
|
|
"My brother Jacques is arriving from Rome; do you
|
|
want to come with me to meet him? He's traveling with
|
|
his daughter; she'll be missing school.... We could
|
|
make up for it."
|
|
"No, I'm going to get some sleep to catch up with
|
|
my jet lag. I'll meet you for lunch."
|
|
She gives him the key to a room at the hotel.
|
|
Jacques materializes out of the crowd, and as he tells
|
|
her about his trip Pia holds the little girl in her arms and
|
|
asks if she saw any angels on the way.
|
|
"Oh, lots," she says, snuggling up half asleep on
|
|
her aunt's shoulder.
|
|
|
|
Hermes, the messenger god of
|
|
Classical antiouty, hes shattered on
|
|
Tr tioor uh ththies troor
|
|
painted on a ceiling): we recoonize
|
|
him by his statt and his winged
|
|
helmet. The Christian medistor
|
|
takes his plce on the pedestal.
|
|
soth Meercuty and Chnist are at the
|
|
point of death, their limbs wracked
|
|
and their bodies torn. Messengers
|
|
cioappese in célation to then
|
|
understanding their death agonies
|
|
Teiocawhane hett
|
|
Chabeeee, der Kne tcirenine
|
|
of this book, Gabriel, the traveler
|
|
and passenger, dies similarly. He
|
|
bears within him the <ontents ot
|
|
this book. As Pia and Pantopo
|
|
speax, they lsten to his sierke, or
|
|
Tewetree wentn wrilenre
|
|
Mwe totht
|
|
(c 1500-1602), Triumon of
|
|
Christianity, or The Exaltation of
|
|
the taith. Kaphsel Stanze
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
Jacques says:
|
|
"On the ceiling of the last Raphael stanza in the Vat-
|
|
ican, there's a picture called The Exaltation of Faith. It
|
|
depicts a statue of Hermes lying shattered on the floor."
|
|
"The mediator replaces the messenger."
|
|
"Was our vast multiplicity of angels spawned from
|
|
the scattered limbs of the shattered idol?"
|
|
"We might imagine so, but I'm not sure."
|
|
"From then on, they began to appear everywhere,
|
|
filling every conceivable space. Rome is absolutely full
|
|
of them: you find them sculpted, in bas-reliefs, painted
|
|
or embossed, every shape and size, of each sex or of no
|
|
sex, naked, half-dressed, showing a knee, a shoulder,
|
|
sometimes even a bottom, all chubby and dimpled.
|
|
Immodestly modest. There are infants, portrayed in
|
|
cloned series of winged heads, and adolescents, and
|
|
tall, serious-looking adults.... They pass by in clouds,
|
|
armies, legions, bundles, sudden gusts, multitudes...
|
|
"They bring back, reject, underline, overflow the
|
|
pagan polytheism….."
|
|
"You're talking heresy, dear brother," she says.
|
|
".. which is maintained and tamed within
|
|
Catholicism, a monotheism less logical or rigorous than
|
|
that of its competitors or reformers, but of an unrivalled
|
|
anthropological wealth. The baroque art of Rome and
|
|
Prague is totally immersed in the chaos of their disor-
|
|
der."
|
|
"Again!"
|
|
"And just imagine, if they were to drop all the
|
|
solemn, draped bodies which they bear up as if on ele-
|
|
vators... That would be a fair old ruckus—a collapse
|
|
of stout parties all round!
|
|
"Are these rascals already laughing up their feath-
|
|
ered sleeves at the prospect?"
|
|
"What are they? Truants?"
|
|
"God must be crowded out. There must be a terri-
|
|
ble crush at his court; there seem to be more and more
|
|
angels all the time. Innumerable, in fact. I counted
|
|
ninety-seven angels inside and outside one single rere-
|
|
dos. Why the devil so many?"
|
|
"I don't see where the Devil comes into it."
|
|
"Angels are charged with the maintenance of order
|
|
and proper behavior, but they behave pretty abom-
|
|
We use the word infant ofo
|
|
inably. Rowdily, even. Their jostling disturbs the unity
|
|
person not yet able to speak
|
|
The infant gurgles, babbles,
|
|
of God and the rarity of saints!"
|
|
murmurs, croons..... On the other
|
|
clusters, little cherubs or putti,
|
|
provide an excellent
|
|
representation of the ground
|
|
of hubbub which precedes all
|
|
"Unthinkable!"
|
|
hand, a gathering of people
|
|
"True, though! Their chaos overflows and crosses
|
|
buzzes and a crowd clamors. Flying
|
|
Jean Honore Fragonard
|
|
the edges of pictures and paintings: a vaguely defined
|
|
among this configuration of fluffy
|
|
(1732-1806), Groups of Children
|
|
crowd which both accompanies and precedes religious
|
|
douds, is the thunder threatens, a
|
|
in the Sky, 1767. Musée du Louvre,
|
|
portrayals, exemplary figurations, every image that is
|
|
crowd of infants grouped in little
|
|
Paris, France.
|
|
seen and every text that is narrated.
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
Music is so called because it is the
|
|
every art-no art excels without it
|
|
As an acoustic support and a
|
|
precondition of meaning, music is
|
|
a constant worsting presence
|
|
beneath our dialogs, our
|
|
exchanges, our communication of
|
|
messsges. K buries our bodies
|
|
even before we speak. it is
|
|
universal, in the sense of being
|
|
collectivities. Would there be a
|
|
world without it? it is a
|
|
and all orders. It is necessary to
|
|
beauty and unites works of artistic
|
|
creation. In the painting, thei
|
|
orchestra is portrayed at the side
|
|
of Eve. Located symmetrically in
|
|
relation to god. thes oin chot
|
|
reading the sheet music at the
|
|
lectern, is situated next to Adam.
|
|
Music and song take their rightful
|
|
place back at the origins of things
|
|
along with God, Christ, the Virgin
|
|
Van Eyck brothers (1366-1426;
|
|
1385-1440), the Ghent Altarpiece:
|
|
Making Music, 1426-32. Detail
|
|
upper right corner. St Bavo
|
|
|
|
"Yes. While the messenger angels are out on the
|
|
highways, the hooligan angels are hanging round on
|
|
street corners and climbing over railings. From down
|
|
below you always see a bit of a knee. Street-kids, they
|
|
are. They climb up columns, hang around in bunches
|
|
round balconies, and outwit the authorities. They get in
|
|
to see shows without paying, they make a mockery of
|
|
the law, and they're not much inclined to obedience.
|
|
Space is their property; they make it theirs by inundat-
|
|
ing it, by growing assemblies of waves and numbers,
|
|
by slipping adeptly through the interstices.
|
|
"Off the street, angels pass through walls and slip
|
|
through the bars of palaces and prisons. They send jail-
|
|
ers to sleep and set prisoners free. They don't stand still
|
|
for a moment, and nothing can stand in their way.
|
|
"They are invisible and visible, silent and thunder-
|
|
ous, concealed and light-bearing. They don't just come
|
|
through doors-they can even pass through windows.
|
|
In the same way that sound does. For sure, they must
|
|
be made up of waves."
|
|
"Listening to you, anyone would think you'd heard
|
|
them..."
|
|
"I have, I have. When you listen, you might hear
|
|
the sound of a yowling cat, or the hurly-burly chaos of
|
|
a waterfall."
|
|
"You're deafening me!"
|
|
"This riotous assembly unstitches harmony and
|
|
creates charivari, makes disorder out of order to surf
|
|
once again on primal waters."
|
|
"We must be coming to the Flood...."
|
|
"By good fortune or by a miracle, God is not capa-
|
|
ble by himself of instilling order in his assembled
|
|
angels. His spirit is still surfing on the angelic waves, as
|
|
if he had never left the inceptive minute of the big
|
|
noise. Angels in cathedrals: an originatory Big Bang, a
|
|
gigantic, silent explosion of sound and number.
|
|
"God presents himself everywhere at the same time
|
|
in the form of absence; this is where angels arrive, tak-
|
|
ing advantage of this lacuna of ubiquity-divine small
|
|
change, lieutenants of this absence.
|
|
"They gather in innumerable murmuring multi-
|
|
tudes. They dance and sing in choirs. They raise cheers
|
|
and acclamations. In their silence they make noise visi-
|
|
ble in peaceful basilicas."
|
|
"Oh come on, you can't make noise visible!"
|
|
"Yes. These angels enable us to see the basic noise of
|
|
the physical world, that of heaven and of theology.
|
|
"And then only the sound of psalteries and
|
|
organs."
|
|
Above the constant but fluctuating noise of the free-
|
|
way interchanges surrounding the airport, they hear
|
|
the bass roar of aircraft taking off, one after the other,
|
|
interspersed with the baritone sound of other aircraft
|
|
landing.
|
|
Snatches of song reach them from the bars, mixed
|
|
with the announcements for planes arriving and leaving.
|
|
"The way that these angels assemble in their multi-
|
|
tudes is represented as chaotic. But certain angels stand
|
|
out. These are the ones who play the trumpets, lyres
|
|
and lutes... or the ones who sing in choirs. ... Mean-
|
|
while, at a higher level, there are the archangels. They
|
|
are fewer in number, and are no longer anonymous.
|
|
"They have names. They bear messages, and
|
|
among these messages is one, only one, which becomes
|
|
dialog, and announces that the Word will be made
|
|
flesh. What we have depicted here is a ladder, which
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
begins with noise and moves upwards to a reality
|
|
which is living, fleshly and personal, passing via the
|
|
necessary intermediaries of music, song and dance.
|
|
"At the bottom of the ladder, therefore, we have the
|
|
swarming multitude of the world's big noises, whose
|
|
chaos precedes music, and the universal harmony of
|
|
music in turn precedes meaning.
|
|
"On the way down, the flesh comes down from the
|
|
Word; this in turn descends towards language; and this
|
|
goes further downwards into melody, which may then,
|
|
on occasion, spread itself as noise.
|
|
"Plunged into chaos, the angels construct the Word
|
|
and the body, by means of song. The fluctuating multi-
|
|
ple mounts, in procession, towards unity,
|
|
which
|
|
descends again towards multiplicity, when the flesh
|
|
loses its unity in words, and words in the repetitive and
|
|
sonorous blah-blah-blah.
|
|
"I have spent my whole trip contemplating these
|
|
never-ending climbings and descendings."
|
|
"Your Jacob's Ladder makes up for the preceding
|
|
one. However, it seems rather triangular, since it begins
|
|
from an infinite number of assemblies and rises to a sin-
|
|
gle oneness via intermediate stages of increasing rari-
|
|
ties."
|
|
"That's just an effect of perspective, when you see it
|
|
from down here on earth!"
|
|
"I have a sense of these same degrees existing in the
|
|
body: the hot life of the body makes a confused hub-
|
|
bub, the noise of which resolves into a delicate interior
|
|
music. If I pay sufficient attention, I can detect its con-
|
|
tinuous and singular tonality... I hear the primitive
|
|
vocalization of my flesh which is what creates my exis-
|
|
tence, my time, and then my identity.
|
|
"I hear that, therefore I think."
|
|
In Van Eyck, religion installs
|
|
harmony as one of the premisses of
|
|
creation. Here geometry provides it
|
|
visual pattern, arrived at by means
|
|
of differential equations. Each
|
|
representing these things. Pia
|
|
proposes to Pantope a translation
|
|
of religious reocesentation into
|
|
rational statement, or of the Ghent
|
|
Altarpiece into the mode
|
|
portrayed on the facing pagt, and
|
|
vice versa. Needless to say, the
|
|
representation would appear far
|
|
more chaosk. it the bockground
|
|
noise were allowed to intervene:
|
|
the picture which Pia would then
|
|
obtain oy her propoxe translatior
|
|
would perhaps look like the full-
|
|
page picture which follows
|
|
overleaf.
|
|
Computer model of a sound
|
|
"This scale is what constructs me. I must not allow my
|
|
noises to be destroyed by external interferences ... by
|
|
listening to too much music. It is on the basis of this
|
|
harmony (often broken) that my words, my verbaliza-
|
|
tions, are constructed-the first phase... I then pray
|
|
for the second phase to catch on...
|
|
"So where is your scale or ladder to be found,
|
|
then?"
|
|
"In the external world, the world that is chaotic and
|
|
ordered, proliferating and sensate, harmonious and
|
|
describable in algebraic formulae."
|
|
"From base noise to unit equation?"
|
|
"And there you have physics."
|
|
"And then, in my internal consciousness, from the
|
|
biochemistry of cells to insightful invention, from the
|
|
burning stuff of life to thought.
|
|
"Thus, both within me and outside me."
|
|
"Finally it is to be found in technological commu-
|
|
nications networks, and in conversations, ranging
|
|
from the hubbub of amusement arcades to dialogs
|
|
|
|
and collectives that are productive of new things."
|
|
"And here I hear the sound of aircraft and the
|
|
crowds in the airport."
|
|
"On this single ladder with its four exemplifica-
|
|
tions— physical, individual, technological and social—
|
|
angels are constantly rising and tumbling down; thus
|
|
they fill the space of our world and our spirit, our pro-
|
|
ductions and our collectives. They swim around in
|
|
them like small fry, diving in and coming out again.
|
|
They fly in them like birds. And in so doing, they fash-
|
|
ion and weave, construct and maintain."
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"... the universal principle of individuation, per-
|
|
haps? Beginning at the bottom of the ladder, angels
|
|
without bodies, innumerable and non-individuated,
|
|
move slowly upwards, until the point where they
|
|
emerge, recognizable, at the top."
|
|
"No. The act of transmission in itself cannot create!"
|
|
"Yes it can-in transforming the bearer and the
|
|
receiver of the message."
|
|
"No, not at all, because the act of transmission does
|
|
not always create: as the angels disperse in order to sing
|
|
of God, the creator of all good, they may in fact conceal
|
|
him."
|
|
"I beg your pardon?"
|
|
"The expression 1 believe in God the Creator', fac-
|
|
torem coeli et terrae, means, among other things: If I
|
|
believe in Creation, which is the only good and all
|
|
good, and thus divine, I cannot believe in the transmis-
|
|
sion.'"
|
|
"You're eliding the term 'Maker' from the actual
|
|
maker to the transporter. Like the French facteur, both
|
|
maker and transporter."
|
|
"As they multiply, the legions of transmitters or
|
|
commentators may hide creation-the only good and
|
|
all good- settling on the fields like clouds of locusts,
|
|
dimming the sun and devouring all living things in
|
|
their path.
|
|
"The fall of the angels comes in the passage
|
|
from creation to copy; from production, which is
|
|
|
|
Order emerges from the disorder
|
|
of chaos... Music flattens the
|
|
prickles and spikes of noise and
|
|
raises itself as a universal quality
|
|
abore the hubbub….; good angels
|
|
sound trumpets while their fellow
|
|
angels battle with fallen angels
|
|
and the forces of evil, lashing them
|
|
tumbling down from the light-well
|
|
misshapen... One may either
|
|
choose between these three
|
|
versions, which appear as separate
|
|
and distinct realities, or one may
|
|
attempt to grasp the single truth
|
|
which is corcealed beneath these
|
|
translations: the book which you
|
|
are reading is such an atempt.
|
|
Brueghel the Elder (c. 1525-69),
|
|
The Fall of the Rebeflous Anges,
|
|
1562(7) Musée Royal des Beaux-
|
|
Arts, Brussels, Belgium
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
divine, to commentary, which is base, and to para-
|
|
sitic transmissions. The good tidings can do without
|
|
a bearer, since the body and blood constitute the
|
|
meaning of the message. Create! Make meaning
|
|
with flesh, or make flesh with the Word; death to
|
|
bodily effort! God creates, the Devil does not create,
|
|
there's the difference: it is only Creation that distin-
|
|
guishes good from evil. The act of creation makes
|
|
goodness. God is the Devil, he more or less creates
|
|
the world."
|
|
"Get up that ladder, avoid the Fall!"
|
|
"The living person whom you described earlier,
|
|
replacing the shattered Hermes on his plinth, then goes
|
|
on to die on the Cross: the mediator is a figure in his
|
|
death throes from the beginning to the end of time.
|
|
Both these gods are actually dying together, both the
|
|
old and the new. If the message and the transmission do
|
|
not die, they do not bring creative fruition."
|
|
"I like this ladder of yours, of creation, both human and
|
|
divine!"
|
|
"What if we were to speak the language of angels?
|
|
God is unique, only God is God. Do angels announce
|
|
monotheism?
|
|
"The answer is yes. As messengers, they propagate
|
|
everywhere the glory of the one God, radiating from
|
|
the centre to the periphery:
|
|
"However the answer is also no: we are monothe-
|
|
ists, but all of us, whether Jews or peasants of the
|
|
Garonne, remain inveterate pagans. Can the same be
|
|
true of angels?
|
|
"Yes. Gabriel, Raphael and Michael, as named
|
|
archangels, detach themselves from the hordes of
|
|
saintly cohorts, to fight or to act as guides. They take on
|
|
The upper extremity or final
|
|
in both image and text, how the
|
|
ascent of that ladder constructs the
|
|
symphoni, fitting, harmonious,
|
|
composed of human forms and
|
|
connectined inumen
|
|
surrounds the Word like a halo,
|
|
and the Word is itself flesh and
|
|
messege corn or woman, bot
|
|
portrayed at the center, here.
|
|
In other words, more than
|
|
existing to be heard, musid
|
|
furnishes a vital nourishment,
|
|
indispensable to body and soul
|
|
The Concert of Angels, Flemish
|
|
school, sixteenth century. Museo
|
|
de Bella Arte, Bilbao, Spain.
|
|
a defined role within religious history, in the same way
|
|
that the multitudinous gods of antiquity each had their
|
|
particular places. Do angels represent a passage from
|
|
one divine regime to another? Does Lucifer thus reign
|
|
over these polytheist powers?
|
|
"For pantheism, everything is divine. Trees and
|
|
stars are gods. You are a god too, you whom I love and
|
|
who are now listening to me. So are angels still panthe-
|
|
|
|
ist? Certainly they are, because by the fact that they
|
|
pass everywhere and occupy all space, they enable
|
|
divinity to be seen at all points: your guardian, who
|
|
shadows you like your shadow, makes me see that you
|
|
are God, just as my guardian, who abandons me, makes
|
|
me forget it every day. There are so many angels, they
|
|
exist in such extraordinary numbers, that one finds
|
|
them everywhere, testifying to divine ubiquity:
|
|
"So here we have the arithmetic plain and simple:
|
|
one, several or all. Angels create confusion in this naïve
|
|
logic of numbers, as applied to theology.
|
|
"They slip nimbly beneath theories of sets, they
|
|
are able to pass through the walls of rigor as easily as
|
|
through the walls of prisons. The body of angels goes
|
|
beyond limits; their number makes a mockery of
|
|
counting: their logic abhors inflexibility. Or rather,
|
|
|
|
they inhabit quite distinct levels, but they move nois-
|
|
ily up and down from one landing to another, swamp-
|
|
ing the intermediate space with the clouds of their
|
|
presence. Are they capable of slipping in and out of
|
|
dimensions?
|
|
"So, they testify to polytheism in the face of the one
|
|
single God; they affirm one single god in paganism;
|
|
they spread pantheism everywhere, in singing in the
|
|
fields... They testify to the hazy in the face of exacti-
|
|
tude; they represent homogenous law within raggedy
|
|
Al ritual manuscrics of the Jewish
|
|
episodes from the leaving
|
|
ot Laypt and the exodus. moses
|
|
stands on Mount Sinai with the
|
|
Ten Commandments in his hand,
|
|
ready to show them to the
|
|
Hebrew people gathered below
|
|
him; above, three winged angels
|
|
D
|
|
emerge from the clouds,
|
|
blowing on trumpets.
|
|
Again we have that same
|
|
legend: music assists in the
|
|
process of the emergence
|
|
iltuminated Haggadah, 1583,
|
|
Crete.
|
|
|
|
LADDERS
|
|
space; they stitch together tatters, tear the monotone,
|
|
men before women, males before females, breaths and
|
|
flows of the world, light of stars, life of animals, spirits
|
|
of language, they connect the unconnected, disconnect
|
|
the connected, and between them tie up and untie all
|
|
orders.
|
|
"Never irrational, they create confusion in the ratio-
|
|
nal, which is still going down the straight line of logic
|
|
and exactitude.
|
|
"Angels have always been successful in something
|
|
that I have been trying to imagine for a long while: a
|
|
universe which is mixed, dazzling, rigorous, hermetic
|
|
and Pan-like, serene and open, a philosophy of commu-
|
|
nication, traversed by systems of networks and inter-
|
|
ferences, and demanding, in order to be able to estab-
|
|
lish itself, a theory of the multiplicities, of the chaos,
|
|
hubbub and noise, that come before all theory."
|
|
"Explain yourself," says Pia, slightly mystified.
|
|
"A theory deploys, essentially, a system of mono-
|
|
tonal ideas. In Greek the word means 'procession': a
|
|
parade of modest virgins in white skirts, followed by
|
|
serious-looking beardless youths and doting old men
|
|
engaged in some ritual; exposed, set to the step, a sweet
|
|
crowd.
|
|
"When necessary, angels are quite capable of
|
|
arranging themselves and aligning themselves, form-
|
|
ing theories or spelling out positions; but under normal
|
|
conditions their disorder forms a pre-theory, a scattered
|
|
stock awaiting systematization.
|
|
"Before the ordering of turbulence, or after it, what
|
|
rules is the distribution of hazard and chance.
|
|
"Out in the playground, the ringing of the school
|
|
bell and standing in rows at the classroom door is pre-
|
|
ceded by the hubbub of playtime; a second ringing of
|
|
the bell, at the end of lessons, breaks the same ranks,
|
|
and the hubbub begins again."
|
|
"That's a lot clearer," Pia murmurs, brushing her
|
|
hair back.
|
|
Archangels come bringing the annunciation of the
|
|
flesh, and they speak; they come from a space which is
|
|
peopled by angels singing; these angels too are in tran-
|
|
sit, coming from another space, where other angels play
|
|
on lutes and trumpets, producing a divine music; they
|
|
in turn emanate from a space which is sown by a noise
|
|
produced by myriad multitudes of other angels...
|
|
On this fluid ladder, God, the One and Only, is per-
|
|
manently in the process of unmaking himself into a
|
|
multiplicity of gods, idols and ideas, which, in their dif-
|
|
ference, are permanently in the process of unifying
|
|
themselves into one single god. The angels, the world,
|
|
you and me, men and history all move within this ris-
|
|
ing and descending flow.
|
|
With weightiness, we always tend to descend
|
|
towards polytheism. Angels enable us to see it, and
|
|
thus defend us from it.
|
|
Pia continues:
|
|
"Since you have so skilfully constructed this gentle
|
|
ladder of the Word, may I ask you a question?"
|
|
"Are you setting a trap for me?"
|
|
"Not at all. Look: we all speak different lan-
|
|
guages-French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese.... Then,
|
|
in each language, we all express our various trades: the
|
|
carpenter,
|
|
the
|
|
sailor, the florist, the cook, the
|
|
astronomer and the pharmacist's assistant all have spe-
|
|
cific terminologies proper to their trades-prescrip-
|
|
tions, plants, speeds of working, planks of wood, and
|
|
|
|
MO & N I NC
|
|
so on. ... This terminology is sometimes so specific that
|
|
people from outside the profession may find it a closed
|
|
book. Now, imagine that you're homing in on people's
|
|
everyday desires on the boss shouting out orders, on
|
|
all the various different ways of expressing hope, law,
|
|
fear, truth, love, wants, hatred ...
|
|
"... this makes a highly rich and complex mosaic,
|
|
which is the very raw material of writers."
|
|
"Could l imagine pulling all this together, all in one
|
|
go?"
|
|
"Do you mean speaking in tongues, like on the day
|
|
of Pentecost?"
|
|
"Not like that. Differently. Let's try doing a sum."
|
|
"In what dialect are you intending to do it?"
|
|
"In plain language. So, what strange act of lan-
|
|
guage is it that links all other states of language, by
|
|
links, arms, bridges, and relays, whether fluctuating
|
|
or stable, like in a floating unknotted sheet? For exam-
|
|
ple:
|
|
"the calm of complete silence, the desert, the night;
|
|
"patient and attentive listening, utterly penetrating
|
|
through all muteness;
|
|
"drowning in a sea of meaningless background
|
|
noise;
|
|
"the fire, the heat of life;
|
|
"the chaos of wild shouting, the raucous roaring
|
|
following on a wound, the savagery of the appeal, the
|
|
imposing cruelty of need, the plaintive crying of
|
|
desire;
|
|
"new insight, and the coming of rhythm;
|
|
"a psalmody with a repeating tempo which beats
|
|
its head against a wall;
|
|
"the melancholy of musical uplift;
|
|
"the construction of a well-blended choir;
|
|
The entry of the human
|
|
community of the primitie
|
|
Church as represented by the
|
|
Apostles-into the order and
|
|
concert of the angels. The
|
|
definition, aim and puroose of
|
|
ecclesiastical liturgy is to imitate
|
|
the gestures, dances, music, songs,
|
|
wore orders or deeds in tire
|
|
presence of God.
|
|
Enquerrand Quarton (c. 1410-
|
|
66), The Coronation of the Virgin,
|
|
1453, detail, School of Avignon.
|
|
Musée de l'Hospice, Villeneure-les-
|
|
Avignon, France.
|
|
"the acute need of communication within dialog:
|
|
"a plummeting loss of one's self in some other,
|
|
whether present or absent;
|
|
"the desire to seduce, and to tell the truth at last.
|
|
"But also, and on the other hand:
|
|
"the avowal of the secret;
|
|
"desire and emotion in a state of upheaval;
|
|
"the emergence, expression, presence and constitu-
|
|
tion of the body and of consciousness by means of
|
|
sound and meaning in their nascent state;
|
|
|
|
"the ritual accompaniment of gestuality, ranging
|
|
from sedate dance to frenetic convulsions;
|
|
"the total choreographic performance of the body
|
|
in all dimensions of the workd;
|
|
*the contemplation of things objectively des-
|
|
cribed;
|
|
"the exact and lucid statement of things just as they
|
|
"the assumption of the future within global history.
|
|
from the Creation until the end of time;
|
|
"the magnificence of the present and the enchant-
|
|
ment of time:
|
|
"the lightning brevity between the now of saying
|
|
and the hour of death;
|
|
"the call of one's relations, of others, of neighborli-
|
|
ness, of the federation of hominids;
|
|
"the pathetic evocation of exile.….
|
|
"What strange state of language associates, in one
|
|
single and unique emission (which we could call uni-
|
|
versal all its statutes, known and found, including:
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
"supply and demand, the gift, exchange, remorse,
|
|
regret, pardon, the desired option;
|
|
"the loving self-abandonment of good will;
|
|
"juridical formality, the excellent rigor of formal
|
|
proofs;
|
|
"the performative act;
|
|
"the formation of a collective network out of the
|
|
most intense solitudes….?
|
|
"So, do you recognize the integral sum of acts of lan-
|
|
guage?™
|
|
"No."
|
|
"Let yourself sink into prayer.
|
|
"How can we understand prayer, since it is all-
|
|
embracing and envelops, in the totality of its language,
|
|
everything that is real, me, others, the world, history
|
|
and God?"
|
|
"Can we say that it is indicative, in short, of the way
|
|
of writing philosophy?"
|
|
"In constructing the word from its elementary
|
|
beginnings, one arrives at its end — that is, at the sum
|
|
which one calls prayer.
|
|
"Did you know that the best definition of the
|
|
liturgy recommends imitating the angels?"
|
|
"The stalls of monks form a horizontal ladder,"
|
|
Jacques concludes, laughing.
|
|
"Because they construct the Word. Whether they
|
|
behave riotously, make noise, sing, dance, play music,
|
|
speak, dialog, announce, or finally participate in the
|
|
creation of flesh. angels are praying all the time."
|
|
"And philosophizing?"
|
|
The word 'monk' derives from
|
|
the Greek monos, which means
|
|
"alone'. Since monks live in
|
|
communite history
|
|
dictionaries draw attention to the
|
|
curious contradiction between
|
|
mone sur Old code and the odin
|
|
of the word. Now, drawing on the
|
|
same root, the philosopher
|
|
define solitary elements which
|
|
had no relationship with any
|
|
were nonetheless constitutive of
|
|
the world. There we have a
|
|
satisrectory non contradictory
|
|
definition of mechanical order
|
|
and social life such as the practice
|
|
seclusion: those who separate
|
|
themselves enjoy the best
|
|
understanding. To whom should
|
|
messages be addressed, if they are
|
|
to be most effective in gathering
|
|
us together? to others, or to a
|
|
third but transcendent party?
|
|
Matins in a monastery, 1991.
|
|
The Chartemouse Of Valerite
|
|
|
|
As the bearer of the message.
|
|
the messenger appears... but he
|
|
himself out of the picture, in order
|
|
that the recipient hear the words
|
|
of the preson who sent the
|
|
woode one or tweenem
|
|
When the messenger takes on too
|
|
much importarke, he ends up
|
|
diverting the channel of
|
|
transmission to his own ends.
|
|
Ween than undersho
|
|
sin and the fall of angels, who are
|
|
normally faithful intermediaries,
|
|
by the good of bad, successtu
|
|
or unsuccessful functioning
|
|
of their message-bearing
|
|
Max Ernst (1891-1976), The Fair
|
|
of an Angel, 1922. Ernst O. E.
|
|
Fischer Collection, Krefeld,
|
|
Fra Angelico (1387-1455),
|
|
Annunciation (second scene of the
|
|
Armadio degli Argenti), c. 1450,
|
|
tempera. Museo San Marco,
|
|
Florence, Italy.
|
|
APPARITIONS
|
|
Jacques asks, ironically:
|
|
"So what about the fall of the angels? Do they all
|
|
come tumbling down the ladder?"
|
|
Pia replies, seriously:
|
|
"Don't confuse the construction of an order, of a
|
|
meaning or of the Word, with the hierarchy of power
|
|
deployed by Newtown and its message systems. All our
|
|
crimes derive from a desire for power and glory, where-
|
|
as angels sin in their role as messengers."
|
|
"What kinds of indiscretion might be committed by
|
|
an intermediary?"
|
|
"If he's not happy with his brokerage fee or his tip,
|
|
the courier who's carrying the gold or the silver might
|
|
decide to help himself."
|
|
|
|
APPARITIONS
|
|
Lonty, faithful window glass:
|
|
does it let the rays of daylight
|
|
pass... or do the painted design.
|
|
the colors, the beauty of the
|
|
change the white light of the sun
|
|
and spread it into the spectrum
|
|
of its secret composition?
|
|
The Annunciation,
|
|
as depicted here, asks the same
|
|
window alass.., the question of
|
|
the intermediary: if he is too
|
|
magnificent, he may intercept
|
|
the message; if he is too discreet,
|
|
he won't make it heard.
|
|
Must he appear or disappear? Both
|
|
The Annunciation, latel
|
|
thirteenth-century stained glass
|
|
window. Kloster-Neuburg
|
|
Monastery, Austria.
|
|
"Stop thief!"
|
|
"That's why certain bills are made payable to the
|
|
bearer', whereas we protect others with a signature."
|
|
"In order to defend them from the messengers?"
|
|
"The message bearer who passes on a message
|
|
might retain some of its information."
|
|
"Parasite!"
|
|
"That's why we seal letters, and put despatches
|
|
into code. We do it to protect them from indiscretions."
|
|
"From interceptors, rather..!"
|
|
"An interpreter may actually obstruct a conversa-
|
|
tion."
|
|
"Traduttore traditore, as they say. The translator as
|
|
betrayer."
|
|
"And a representative may pass himself off as the
|
|
authority that he represents."
|
|
"Out in front of the procession, the little drummer
|
|
boy is taken for the emperor!"
|
|
"The most commonplace and least serious lie
|
|
—because it is the most tangible and easily spotted—
|
|
affects only the content of messages: a simple lie....
|
|
Whereas the one which we are discussing is invisible
|
|
and more perverse, because it changes, bends and dis-
|
|
torts the channel itself.
|
|
"Since he controls the channel of communication,
|
|
the delegate, the envoy, lies better than the liar, and
|
|
deceives better than the swindler, because he assumes
|
|
the power and the glory of the person who sent him.
|
|
What's more, he remains invisible, because he only
|
|
appears in order to speak of another."
|
|
"So we have the angel passing himself off for God?"
|
|
"Is it possible to control the betrayal, the para-
|
|
sitism, this sum of lies produced by the obstruction of
|
|
message systems? Can we propose a code of practice
|
|
for messengers: how not to steal the thing that is trans-
|
|
mitted?"
|
|
"Easy to spot the problem, hard to supply the
|
|
ethic!"
|
|
"The answer is that one should be prepared to fade
|
|
oneself out behind the message. Have you ever had the
|
|
experience of talking with somebody whose language
|
|
you don't speak, and who doesn't speak yours either?
|
|
You use the services of an interpreter, who slips in
|
|
between you as a third party. All of a sudden the con-
|
|
versation takes off and communication becomes easy
|
|
and fluent. You and he are no longer talking through a
|
|
go-between. You look each other in the eye. You no
|
|
longer really know who's talking and who's replying,
|
|
because the body, voice and intonation of the inter-
|
|
preter disappear, suddenly merged into direct trans-
|
|
mission. You have the impression that you are under-
|
|
standing the incomprehensible, that you've come close
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
enough to touch it! This dissolving of the intermediary
|
|
comes close to the mystic experience."
|
|
"Should the one who is doing the transporting
|
|
never appear?"
|
|
"How many moralities demand annihilation!
|
|
Here's another disappearance: the body and voice of
|
|
the teacher disappear in relation to the text that he's
|
|
expounding in the lecture theatre. A lecture only suc-
|
|
ceeds if philosophy herself appears, in the flesh, to take
|
|
the lecturer's place, and he lets her have it. Imagine it, a
|
|
dazzling woman enters the hall by a secret door and
|
|
despatches the teacher who had summoned her up in
|
|
secret and who was speaking in her name. A miracle!
|
|
"On the other hand, there are scoundrels who pre-
|
|
tend that they themselves are philosophy, and whose
|
|
disciples are then obliged to speak only of them, never
|
|
of her.
|
|
"The body of the messenger appears or vanishes.
|
|
The intermediary writes himself out of the picture. He
|
|
must not present himself, or dazzle, or please... or
|
|
even appear.
|
|
"That's why we don't see angels."
|
|
"That's why their mouths are dumb!"
|
|
"I'm not joking. And that's why the question of
|
|
their sex is extremely serious. It has to be answered in
|
|
the negative, obviously. If the messenger gets pleasure,
|
|
the transmission becomes obstructed."
|
|
"Marry the brothel madam? Sleep with the pro-
|
|
curess? Never!"
|
|
"The first duties of the transporter are: eclipse, step-
|
|
ping aside, flight and withdrawal."
|
|
"I see: the worst angels are the ones which are seen;
|
|
the best disappear."
|
|
"Guess who appears in apparitions. The intermedi-
|
|
ary? God himself? Or Satan, the fallen angel and liar?"
|
|
"Too difficult, dear sister."
|
|
"Apparitions take place all the more rarely because
|
|
they are a serious infringement of the obligation of dis-
|
|
appearing."
|
|
"This has become difficult to understand--it's
|
|
downright contradictory!"
|
|
"The fact of appearing makes for a fall, even though
|
|
it remains necessary!"
|
|
"If the angel or the messenger has to withdraw, dis-
|
|
sipate and vanish, how can he appear?"
|
|
"In the sixth chapter of the Book of Judges, the
|
|
Angel of the Lord appears to Gideon and speaks to him.
|
|
Replying to the young man, the Lord himself speaks
|
|
... there is this hesitation, occuring several times, over
|
|
who is the interlocutor, God or the Angel. Is it the Angel
|
|
or is it God?
|
|
"Some commentators claim to find here a dual
|
|
aspect of the text: an old text, which is polytheist, main-
|
|
tained within the new, which is monotheist. Never
|
|
listen to interpreters who try to get between the lines
|
|
and you: they are fallen angels themselves! Read
|
|
directly, because the Bible and the good books provide
|
|
better enlightenment and instruction than their com-
|
|
mentators! These latter merely put up obstacles."
|
|
"Captors or interruptors!"
|
|
"Take a good look around you at the myriad
|
|
crowds of messengers in this new world of ours that is
|
|
so overflowing with message systems. Listen to these
|
|
legions of Angels, these bearers of messages: news pre-
|
|
senters, popularizers of science, representatives of
|
|
authorities, administrators and counter-clerks... Very
|
|
quickly-most often without intending it, but by the
|
|
|
|
The world of brothels abounds
|
|
procuresses and ponces...
|
|
the costly parasites of desire
|
|
"oh, now tone door
|
|
human relations take on the form
|
|
of women or men, of money or
|
|
animais ..- good of bad angels.
|
|
How does the angel come to be
|
|
an animal? is whomicin
|
|
and Inadame both sit there.
|
|
bloated on food, their eyes not
|
|
meeting, the little dog yups and
|
|
serves ds on inserncolary
|
|
between them. Would they know
|
|
Henri Toulouse-Lautrec
|
|
Monsieur, Madame
|
|
and the Dog, 1893.
|
|
white loubuse Loutrec
|
|
Albi, France.
|
|
simple fact of their position on the channel-they take
|
|
on more importance than the news, whether good or
|
|
bad, that they are presenting, more assurance than the
|
|
science whose discoveries they are popularizing, more
|
|
strength
|
|
and dexterity than the athletes on whose
|
|
defeats and victories they are commentating, more for-
|
|
tune than the economy whose wealth they are evaluat-
|
|
ing, more glory than criminals and heads of state...
|
|
They steal the value which they are transmitting, they
|
|
translate messages to their own profit, and maintain a
|
|
parasitic hold on the channels.... They appear, unceas-
|
|
ingly, instead of disappearing.."
|
|
"I remember when the first interviews were shown
|
|
on television. The person who was asking the questions
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
stayed out of sight! Nowadays, when people are grilled
|
|
on TV, they're lucky if they get four seconds in which to
|
|
reply. Now all we admire is the interviewer.
|
|
"However it is necessary for him to appear and
|
|
speak, in order to deliver the message! It is the fact of
|
|
message systems that produces the perverse effect, not
|
|
the perversity of individuals as such.
|
|
"The same law applies to language: critics are get-
|
|
ting the upper hand over authors. And to music: our
|
|
composers are down at heel, but their interpreters are
|
|
wealthy. And the same goes for fruit and vegetables:
|
|
the peasant who produces remains poor while the
|
|
wholesalers and transporters become rich. ... Not to
|
|
mention the advertising industry..
|
|
"So here we have it in a nutshell: circulation takes
|
|
place a lot more fluently in a channel which is empty;
|
|
when it fills up and becomes congested, the parasite
|
|
that blocks it takes on an enormous importance. In the
|
|
world of communications, power belongs precisely to
|
|
those who control the channels."
|
|
"So does the communication of messages-at once
|
|
both angelic and fragile— fall into the hands of fallen
|
|
angels?"
|
|
"Good angels pass in silence and we forget them.
|
|
Others become visible, and they become our gods."
|
|
"How?"
|
|
"There are a thousand mechanisms for fabricating
|
|
false gods."
|
|
"Like what?"
|
|
"I'm coming to that. If the transmitter does his job
|
|
properly, he disappears. A true transmission is charac-
|
|
terized by elimination, a false one by presence: a curi-
|
|
ous paradox."
|
|
"One could say that truth and falsehood flash in
|
|
In order to be sure himself of the
|
|
authentkity of his mission as
|
|
saviour, Gideon demands a proot
|
|
from Yahweh: that the dew should
|
|
fail only on the fleece, and that the
|
|
ground around it should remain
|
|
dry, the following day the ground
|
|
all around should become wet with
|
|
dew, but not the fleece. The two
|
|
signs are given and confirm that
|
|
God has called on him to liberate
|
|
his people from the yoke of the
|
|
Midianites. (Judges 6:36-40) The
|
|
meerane the wher town become
|
|
The Miracle of Gidhon's Fleece,
|
|
anorymous Provençal artist,
|
|
c. 1490. Muste du Petit-Palais,
|
|
Avignon, France.
|
|
|
|
the night like the flashing light of a lighthouse: pres-
|
|
ence, absence, presence again... Existence, non-exis-
|
|
tence.."
|
|
"So angels are what they are not, and they are not
|
|
what they are. Philosophers used to say the same about
|
|
conscience: does it mime our guardian angel?"
|
|
"The relation thus goes deeper than being."
|
|
"True. By the way, I hope we'll get a chance to talk
|
|
about guardian angels!"
|
|
"In a world where message systems dominate,
|
|
those who set them in motion are also in a position to
|
|
switch them off. We only realize how important they
|
|
are when they stop."
|
|
"In other words, it looks very much like a machine
|
|
for manufacturing gods."
|
|
"There is thus a strong possibility that true mes-
|
|
sages are not going to get through. The universe of
|
|
communications becomes deflected towards illusion,
|
|
narcosis and enchantment. The only way to free our-
|
|
selves from it is by inventing new channels, which, for
|
|
the same reasons, soon also become blocked. Or by
|
|
heroic standards of morality.
|
|
"Which is where we see the difference between
|
|
good and bad angels: the humble angel disappears in
|
|
the face of the message; the other becomes visible, in
|
|
order to derive importance from it.
|
|
"In the passage which I cite, and in other sections
|
|
too, the Bible reveals quite precisely the mechanism for
|
|
the manufacturing of the gods of polytheism."
|
|
"Do false gods manufacture themselves by the fact of
|
|
appearing? Or are we to take 'false in the sense of some-
|
|
one who lies both about the value and the channel?"
|
|
"Read on. The holy text wavers, hesitates, blinks,
|
|
caught between the voice of God and that of the angel.
|
|
It thus enables us to hear and see the minimal distance
|
|
between necessary appearance and the obligatory dis-
|
|
appearance of the intermediary. This is why visions
|
|
often happen when one is asleep, and in dreams-
|
|
another way of showing that God or the angel vanish in
|
|
the process of showing themselves, and vice versa. Yes,
|
|
the Angel of the Lord appears in order better to disap-
|
|
pear before the Word of the Lord which he brings; he
|
|
|
|
When we go sunbathing, ona
|
|
beach for example, who can say
|
|
Whether ver ard inmersine our
|
|
bodies in the sun itseif, of which
|
|
the light is part or whether our
|
|
intermediary rays issuing from the
|
|
mass of the sun and coming across
|
|
trougn spuce to reach us?
|
|
The infinite distancing of a
|
|
transcendent God necessitates the
|
|
exotence of angeis or radiatrial
|
|
enemier twas emanat
|
|
can do without them.
|
|
fades himself out so that it may appear in its turn.
|
|
"But all it takes is for some lieutenant to stay put
|
|
and remain in place, without this vibrating lightness;
|
|
then the mechanism is under someone's control, and it
|
|
produces false gods.
|
|
"In these texts the Bible expresses the basic problem
|
|
of message systems to perfection.
|
|
"I think I may have said too much in referring to
|
|
morality: no system can function without this precondi-
|
|
tion. Ethics is here reduced to technique, and responsi-
|
|
bility to functioning."
|
|
Jacques attacks with renewed vigor:
|
|
"Since God is present everywhere, since he can
|
|
make himself present anywhere he wants, why does
|
|
he need to send an angel?
|
|
"The TV presenter doesn't divide himself into mil-
|
|
lions of people just because millions of people are
|
|
watching him on the screen. The same sound and
|
|
image are simply repeated. He needs no intermediary
|
|
to speak in his place; the channel carries him every-
|
|
where of its own accord.
|
|
"All of a sudden we no longer know whether the
|
|
(named) archangel or the (anonymous) angel exist indi-
|
|
vidually, or whether they express an attribute of God:
|
|
his beauty, his glory, his voice, his rainbow-like
|
|
light…"
|
|
Pia screws up her eyes, as if against the sun.
|
|
"When I lie on a beach exposing my body to the rays
|
|
of the sun, can you tell me whether I am receiving, direct
|
|
and distinct, rays which are sent by the sun over millions
|
|
of miles, carrying its various messages of light, heat and
|
|
energy; or is it the case that I am lying in the sun itself, as
|
|
if contained within a fruit comprising a plasma core and
|
|
|
|
At the moment of the
|
|
Annunciation, Fra Angelico gives
|
|
his angel wings that are banded in
|
|
ranbow coloes.. A man can only
|
|
"uen Khe teeyorewolmens
|
|
soneptoer wie tre toowuts
|
|
analog of what happens with
|
|
taniguage. when an author thinks
|
|
Whe te nes otetoine te sya
|
|
before speaking or writing, his
|
|
body, as it filled with love,
|
|
won olnre ond wortee
|
|
a rainbow. He doesn't yet know
|
|
where his idea will settle, or in
|
|
which direction it will go, or in
|
|
what shades it will be colored. The
|
|
bodily state which precedes the
|
|
emergence of an ides in sooken
|
|
form begins in an aurora borealis,
|
|
a kind of totality shaped Eike an
|
|
opened-out fan, ascompanied by
|
|
such an emotion that the body
|
|
experiences the word "emotion'
|
|
itself as that movement of soaring
|
|
flight, enraptured and suspended,
|
|
wnien ttctent herdehett
|
|
wings which beat like those of a
|
|
bird fluttering over a fixed point
|
|
Without yet hanng decided on
|
|
direction, and which are shaded in
|
|
every possible color, of which, at
|
|
the end, only one will remain. That
|
|
is what intuition sees before the
|
|
thing actually comes into sight.
|
|
Museo San Marco, Florence, Italy.
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
successive outer layers made up of fire, light and life?
|
|
When the Bible hesitates or flickers between whether it is
|
|
the angel answering or God, is it the Bible asking: is this
|
|
the rays of the sun, or is it sun-bathing?"
|
|
"Scientists calculate the immense distance from
|
|
the Earth to a dense and abstract point where the
|
|
weight of the sun would be concentrated.."
|
|
"...but we terrestrials, pathetic earthlings, chil-
|
|
dren of flesh and blood, know that we and our Earth lie
|
|
lock, stock and barrel within the globe of the sun, as it
|
|
burns red, white and blue with flames, in the everyday
|
|
vision of its glory."
|
|
"Scientists speak of radiations."
|
|
"But we know that we live our lives immersed in its
|
|
living pool of translucidity.
|
|
"So infinitely transcendent that it appears to us as a
|
|
god, and we bathe in his immanent breath.
|
|
"Maybe when all's said and done we don't need
|
|
angels."
|
|
Jacques asks, ironically:
|
|
"So what are we talking about now?"
|
|
"We are talking about a diaphanous or epiphanic
|
|
light..."
|
|
She suddenly turns round and points to a repro-
|
|
duction of Fra Angelico's Annunciation hanging in the
|
|
waiting room.
|
|
"...of the third person."
|
|
"In relation to whom?"
|
|
"Caught by surprise, facing the angel who has
|
|
arrived like a sudden gust of wind, Mary hears the
|
|
Annunciation, sitting on the viewer's right. The scene
|
|
follows the orientation of the written text, which, in our
|
|
case, reads from the left. Only our meaningless words
|
|
fly about hither and thither, when they have meaning,
|
|
they conceive; and if they conceive, they have that
|
|
meaning, and that alone. The Word becomes flesh."
|
|
"Our only discourses which are of any value are
|
|
those which penetrate the female body."
|
|
"Our adroit phrases solicit the male body."
|
|
He falls silent, surprised. She resumes, delighted,
|
|
because she enjoys good symmetry:
|
|
"She bows before the archangel; he bows before
|
|
her, she shows to Gabriel the same respect that he
|
|
shows to her; she thus leans slightly towards him; he in
|
|
turn leans subtly towards her; she waits, anxiously, to
|
|
hear the newcomer's strange message; he, in turn, is
|
|
attentive to her and listens to hear her response to what
|
|
has been announced..."
|
|
"You're making me dizzy."
|
|
"What is revealed by this interconnecting mobile of
|
|
bowing heads, shoulders, bodies and necks?
|
|
"It reveals that an ordinary mortal, going about her
|
|
daily business, bows meekly before the unexpected,
|
|
exceptional and saintly creature who is bringing her-
|
|
all unworthy as she is—the Word of God... And that
|
|
the archangel, for his part, bows respectfully before her
|
|
who, at this very moment, is becoming in her womb,
|
|
the mother of his God….. And that this queen-in-wait-
|
|
ing is reverencing the divine sign brought by the atten-
|
|
tive messenger... who in turn is reverencing the divine
|
|
conception received by the Virgin... who is bowing
|
|
before the call of God … announced by this figure who
|
|
is bowing before the fleshly incarnation of God.
|
|
"These reciprocities are visible and represented,
|
|
and in their endless interaction they reveal a third pres-
|
|
ence, which is immense, invisible, and is not repre-
|
|
sented."
|
|
"Namely who or what?"
|
|
|
|
"It is God, covering the scene with his bright
|
|
shadow. Beneath the appearance and the image of an
|
|
interaction between two people, it all takes place as if
|
|
God was face to face with God: in potency on the
|
|
angel's side, because verbal; in act and end of meaning
|
|
in the woman's womb. Our physical eyes of flesh see
|
|
Mary and Gabriel, but faith contemplates, in spirit, the
|
|
apparition facing the incarnation.
|
|
"God-the-Word becomes God-the-flesh. In travers-
|
|
ing with its transparency the colloquium between the
|
|
angel and Mary, the third presence invades the figures
|
|
with its compact reality: two holy beings pray, for him
|
|
to bow before himself. Albeit visible, the angel and the
|
|
Woman disappear.
|
|
"The archangel appears not to be looking at the face
|
|
of the Virgin; she also does not look at Gabriel, since the
|
|
third party present is dazzling their eyes, which are
|
|
miraculous in supernatural attentiveness, and are
|
|
calmly fixed on him.
|
|
"The present comes to a standstill for an eternity."
|
|
"Then the scales fall from our eyes, at the sight of
|
|
and in the presence of the transfigured figure.
|
|
"We contemplate, ecstatically, the divine beauty on
|
|
which their eyes are fixed. Our eye follows the curious
|
|
direction of theirs, out of the field of vision, beyond the
|
|
figures in the picture, but in their figured sense they
|
|
discover meaning itself!"
|
|
Jacques says derisively: "But angels are fictitious
|
|
beings."
|
|
Pia counters, learnedly: "Take them in a figurative
|
|
sense. And remember that both your 'fictitious' and my
|
|
'figurative' come from a similar Latin root. But let's for-
|
|
get these figures for a moment, to speak concretely of
|
|
US."
|
|
TO NY
|
|
She turns to address him face to face:
|
|
"If I show you respect, I incline towards you. Why?
|
|
When you address me, my body, head and shoulders
|
|
move slightly in your direction; with my hands calmly
|
|
crossed, I seek to hear your voice. I allow myself to be
|
|
encompassed by the meaning which you are directing
|
|
towards my body.
|
|
"And when I then address you myself, you lean
|
|
towards me and your posture bends slightly in my
|
|
direction as your goodwill allows itself to be encom-
|
|
passed by the message which I am directing to you."
|
|
"In order to produce it, one needs to explain this
|
|
contract of mutual peace without which no dialog
|
|
would even get off the ground; pious wishes and pure
|
|
goodwill are not enough to bring it into being or main-
|
|
tain it..."
|
|
"From where do they come? Always watchful,
|
|
powerful and renascent, pegged to our bodies, our col-
|
|
lectivities, our cities and our works of every kind, vio-
|
|
lence watches over its permanent breakdown.
|
|
"I don't offer you respect so readily. My culture
|
|
does not tolerate yours, which in turn does not tolerate
|
|
mine. In personal and societal terms the 'other' is a
|
|
being come from hell, and that's where he's bound. A
|
|
dialog which takes place between two parties, and only
|
|
two, always collapses into war (which exists perpetu-
|
|
ally as a third party), for the power and glory of only
|
|
one of the two of us."
|
|
"A contract can only come about through the con-
|
|
stant presence of another instance, of a third party. I do
|
|
not ask that you show me respect, because I am well
|
|
aware that I am unworthy of it, but at this moment my
|
|
words are not speaking to you of me, but of something
|
|
else, towards which 1 am signalling: therefore would
|
|
|
|
The fan-like pattern created by
|
|
the wrinkles of a smile plays a part
|
|
in winning over the man who masy
|
|
still be resisting his friend's
|
|
assertions; the other elicits his
|
|
interest with a gesture of his hand
|
|
But there's nothing to beat a good
|
|
story, a handsome exploit, a
|
|
sensatonal tact winich has noching
|
|
directly to do with either you or
|
|
me. There's nothing to beat a third
|
|
party between us. The truth is that
|
|
we will only truly live together
|
|
through him, with him, and in him.
|
|
Ine third person precedes the
|
|
first two
|
|
you please direct your gaze to accompany my gaze,
|
|
towards it. I hear your voice as you speak to me about
|
|
someone who is other than you and me; I see your face
|
|
radiant with that of which you are speaking-
|
|
"T respect in you this absent presence: God behind
|
|
you gives his global name to it."
|
|
"When the spoken word orders, despises, apostro-
|
|
phizes, insults and kills, does it remain sterile?"
|
|
"It leaves behind merely corpses."
|
|
"So from where does it derive its fecundity?"
|
|
"When it is reciprocal, it conceives, constructs, moves
|
|
from meaning to flesh, and brings to life.
|
|
"Humility alone produces this symmetry. Transparent
|
|
in relation to the Word that he bears, the angel pros-
|
|
|
|
trates himself before she who is already becoming the
|
|
object of the cult of hyperdulia, who prostrates herself
|
|
submissively before the destiny that is announced by
|
|
the message-bearing Word. As fellow angelic beings,
|
|
they both humble themselves before God. She also
|
|
bows before the child which, already; she is bearing in
|
|
her womb, and he bows before the Word which he him-
|
|
self is bringing.
|
|
"When we speak, we efface ourselves in relation to
|
|
the meaning which our discourse transports. In Fra
|
|
Angelico's portrayal of the Annunciation, God is the
|
|
meaning: when we converse with each other, it is mean-
|
|
ing that becomes God.
|
|
"Then several kinds of good tidings come about:
|
|
beauty, inventiveness, novelty, unexpected time... the
|
|
fruit-bearing of peace.
|
|
|
|
This chapter presents the authors
|
|
interpretation of three great frech
|
|
novels: Les Grands Chemins by Jean
|
|
Giono, Rameau's Nephew by
|
|
Far from breaking all the rules, a
|
|
card-sharo simoly follows rules that
|
|
are different. His rules may be
|
|
remote from our own, but they are
|
|
governed by a ruchiess logk. where
|
|
the honest player risks only a money
|
|
stake, the card-sharp stakes his life,
|
|
because if he makes one false move
|
|
he may end up with his throat slit.
|
|
Who is the irvisible presence who
|
|
Mode theor meth
|
|
GUARDIANS
|
|
guardian angei of the law. And the
|
|
second? The angel of death. The
|
|
only truly shameful people in this
|
|
world are fraudsters who are always
|
|
confident of their own safety. For
|
|
example, those who speak without
|
|
responsibility.
|
|
Georges de La Tour (1593-1652),
|
|
Musée du Louvre, Paris, France.
|
|
Bartolomeo di Bologne, Panegyric
|
|
of Bruzio Vikonti, Zoroaster and
|
|
Dialectics. Muste Condt, Chantilly,
|
|
Hones
|
|
"Now you have to keep your promise, Pia." Jacques
|
|
returns to the fray, suddenly turning round as if to sur-
|
|
prise his own shadow. "I don't believe in guardian
|
|
angels. Simple-minded stories for kids!"
|
|
"T've been reading a book today. Giono's best novel:
|
|
Les Grands Chemins- On the Highway"
|
|
"A story about highwaymen?"
|
|
"No. It's the author himself, speaking in the third
|
|
person. He tells of how he wandered the roads and
|
|
mountain paths, wearing coarse woollen trousers, fur-
|
|
nished with a knife and a good pipe, and in the perma-
|
|
nent company of a kind of Artist.... That's the name he
|
|
gives to a Bohemian that he meets in a wood some-
|
|
where. The man's sobriquet is suggestive of his particu-
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
lar talent. He's a card-sharp, with a penchant for card-
|
|
tricks, a fraudster of appalling looks and equally
|
|
appalling character."
|
|
"A sponger, another parasite?"
|
|
"He eats, sleeps and lives at the narrator's expense,
|
|
and the narrator effectively becomes both his host and
|
|
his nursemaid. In the course of the story, following a
|
|
particularly monstrous card swindle, the losers dis-
|
|
cover the hoax, beat the card-sharp, and smash his face
|
|
and his fingers. The author cares for him, and defends
|
|
him to the utmost.
|
|
"A freeloader?"
|
|
"No, not as simple as that! He makes the reader
|
|
want to ask: 'Giono, where does this come from, this
|
|
need to have such a rogue traveling with you? To such
|
|
an extent that you even risked your life in running to
|
|
protect him! In the same way that he lives off you, is it
|
|
maybe the case that you couldn't survive without
|
|
him?'"
|
|
"You mean they're symbiotic."
|
|
"Could be....I would say to Giono: You only
|
|
embarked on this road to adventure in order to trail this
|
|
fascinating phantom. You follow him right through to
|
|
the last night when, in a dark forest, after a spiraling
|
|
pursuit in which your trail ends up becoming confused
|
|
with his, in the midst of dark undergrowth you dis-
|
|
charge your gun full in his face-just before he (or
|
|
maybe you) was taken by the police."
|
|
"Enemy twins?"
|
|
"Despite this darkness, the author of Les Grands
|
|
Chemins sees how criticism, like the police always
|
|
associated with each other, because they both run
|
|
detective operations- indecently tracks down the pri-
|
|
vate lives of creators, but always arrives too late."
|
|
"Parasites again!"
|
|
"Voyeurs, snoopers, shameful investigators must
|
|
not know the true secrets. So therefore, before the police
|
|
or theoreticians manage to arrive in these dark, gloomy
|
|
places, no sooner said than done, the artist kills the
|
|
Artist."
|
|
"Are these two homonymous or identical, dear sis-
|
|
ter?"
|
|
"You choose, dear brother. Now, let's switch book
|
|
|
|
he swinster and the crest. """
|
|
winishing cork ball that the actor
|
|
Both have a hidden treasure of
|
|
Which the public never becomes
|
|
aware. Thes chapter opens the
|
|
does his sleight of hard
|
|
basket which the actor has
|
|
hanging from his belt, it is not seen The Conior. Musee municinal
|
|
by the ten gawpers, because they
|
|
Saint-Germain on Lase,
|
|
dre more toronated by the
|
|
and author. Take Raman's Nephar, in which the
|
|
nephew accompanies Didenx....
|
|
" Another double?""
|
|
"He found him in a tavern, and then preserved for
|
|
the rest of his life the contersation which they had,
|
|
Manuscripts that one isn't prepared to part with are the
|
|
next best thing to confessions, wouldn't you say?"
|
|
"Who is confiding in whom? The author, or the
|
|
closest relation of the greatest artist of the time?"
|
|
|
|
GUARDIANS
|
|
From out of the cornucopia heid
|
|
by the conjuror a hundred silk
|
|
iwiodthoh@od
|
|
wroe Xrowetherwnen
|
|
meters of pink ribbon, a flight of
|
|
doves, three naked women and
|
|
Tounoolmireenr
|
|
shimmering of illusory reality.
|
|
Around this Escherichia cofi is
|
|
colled its ribbon of DNA; its folds
|
|
are a thousand times longer than
|
|
the cell itself; here is all living stuff,
|
|
Predestination written in the book
|
|
of destiny?
|
|
cowtet:wtwtox
|
|
of Escherichia coli, a normal
|
|
bacterium found in the human
|
|
inten tiner teeeewiln
|
|
Chayme to weken te menoore
|
|
Photographic library of Dr
|
|
Gopal Murti.
|
|
"You choose, my brother."
|
|
"Who are you? Who am I?"
|
|
"Who's talking to whom, if they are one and the
|
|
same? Giono's Artist is called Victor André, mother and
|
|
father unknown. Two more forenames for the author
|
|
himself?"
|
|
"This orphan resembles him so much that he could
|
|
be his brother."
|
|
"The artist, in other words the writer, knows that he
|
|
is in fact the Artist, who is so named by way of derision,
|
|
but also pompously."
|
|
"Giono fishes in popular language; and Diderot in
|
|
family descendance. Two false geniuses, by proxy!"
|
|
"The nicknames of these two characters illuminate
|
|
their relationship with the person who holds the pen
|
|
and does all the talking. It's as clear as day. How can
|
|
one express oneself without a theatrical impostor or a
|
|
pathological liar? What producer can eschew having
|
|
near him the person who lives off of him—a parasite, of
|
|
course, as you rightly say, but also a precondition of his
|
|
creativity?"
|
|
"His director, so to speak?"
|
|
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
|
|
"His double faker?"
|
|
"The creator is not Giono-as-subject, nor the mad-
|
|
man who travels with him, nor Diderot, nor Rameau's
|
|
nephew, but the active relationship between artist and
|
|
Artist."
|
|
"I don't understand. Explain yourself."
|
|
"To what frauds does this fraudster Other devote
|
|
himself? On the table, here we have a pack of fifty-two
|
|
cards, kings, sevens, picture cards and numbers."
|
|
"So we have a conjuring card-sharp, then.."
|
|
"By numbers and figures, God created the world.
|
|
He or the artist... shuffles, cuts and deals.... in this
|
|
world we find the hand dealt..."
|
|
"Pia, you're becoming seriously...."
|
|
"Let's imagine the general dealing-out of life's
|
|
cards, as it goes on all the time. We are each dealt our
|
|
portion of destiny, in a series of fortuitous chances and
|
|
necessities. The ace of unhappiness, the five of talent,
|
|
the knave of good luck.."
|
|
"...and the occasional discreet queen, formally
|
|
appearing, by a miracle, in the middle of a friend's gar-
|
|
den...."
|
|
"And that's how history goes on-yours, mine,
|
|
ours... real history, in which kings are less common
|
|
than sevens."
|
|
"Who does the dealing?"
|
|
129
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
"Who knows? God, Nature, Chance, Providence,
|
|
DNA and Fate? Or maybe our parents, getting together
|
|
one evening for a few drinks before settling down to
|
|
procreate.
|
|
"The hand that is dealt is unseeing. It rains equally
|
|
on the just and the unjust."
|
|
"But the just and the unjust are extremely similar."
|
|
"Now, once we realize that the swindlers who pull
|
|
the best numbers always seem to come out on top, why
|
|
don't we admit that we would like to get our hands on
|
|
the choosing process once in a while, and maybe even
|
|
take the place of the person who's doing the deal-
|
|
ing...?Or rather, not that, because rain, and the lottery
|
|
wheel, and the man who's dealing the shuffled pack
|
|
actually know nothing. .. We'd like to take the place of
|
|
whoever it is behind them, making the permutations,
|
|
arranging things, combining, alloting.."
|
|
"Assuming that such a person exists."
|
|
"And since we're quite incapable of performing
|
|
acts of true creation, let's at least learn the wherewithals
|
|
of the faker and the imitator."
|
|
"Who is imitating whom?"
|
|
"Giono roams the highways with a fraudster, and
|
|
Diderot hangs out in bars with a man who pretends to
|
|
be a musician and composer."
|
|
"Who's teaching whom?"
|
|
"Here you have two writers. They are both fasci-
|
|
nated-one with card-tricks of which he is duly envi-
|
|
ous, and the other with the acting abilities of a
|
|
vagabond. Having something to say means nothing if
|
|
you're incapable of showing it. If one lacks the ability to
|
|
use forms, knowledge produces nothing."
|
|
"So the false teaches the true to the true. The double
|
|
imitator teaches the honest me. Strange, immoral!"
|
|
"Then, arrangements and combinations tell of
|
|
imbroglios of love and jealousy between queens, kings
|
|
and knaves, a whole comedy of stories and novels, of
|
|
roaring successes. Yes, of card-tricks and play-acting.
|
|
"The card-sharp makes himself master of the false
|
|
deal, because he does not know the reality of the deal."
|
|
"No true art without a false brother, Pia. Shameful!"
|
|
"Therein, my brother, lies the work of the Artist: of
|
|
Giono's double and of the novelist himself. The man
|
|
who holds the pen as he tells his exploits has them by
|
|
courtesy of his tricksterish guardian angel. Are you
|
|
going to believe this, at last, Jacques?"
|
|
"I believed it more veracious!"
|
|
"Wait. What could be more dull and dreary than an
|
|
ordinary game, a mediocre existence, filled with fives
|
|
and threes of hearts? On the other hand, a major hoax
|
|
produces a good story and a good show. People love
|
|
recounting their exploits."
|
|
"T've got you there— your wicked angel is tempting
|
|
you, Pia!"
|
|
"If I had to create, would I be able to avoid dabbling
|
|
in the process of permutation: liar…. novelist..
|
|
swindler. story-writer.. fraudster.. artist.. patho
|
|
logical: liar ... politician?"
|
|
"Do you take yourself for God... or DNA... or
|
|
Destiny?™
|
|
"Not for God, who truly does create; rather for the
|
|
Devil incarnate; because, without soul or flesh, paper
|
|
tigers, abominable hypocrites, characters seek fortune,
|
|
domination and the spilling of blood."
|
|
"How much do we pay to follow our angels of col-
|
|
ored paper?"
|
|
"But, good heavens, don't they look dapper!"
|
|
"Lies that are far more fascinating than the pale
|
|
|
|
GUARDIANS
|
|
truths of long highways and the broad light of day.
|
|
"He who enacts falsity cannot attain goodness. He
|
|
has to content himself with evil. He stains everything
|
|
with blood, the spilling of which is all that interests this
|
|
fine world of ours."
|
|
"The double of every Artist, madman, liar, and
|
|
abomination, tells only of …
|
|
"...and deserves only, death. The true cre-
|
|
ator becomes good by creating something that is
|
|
real."
|
|
"I maintain, decidedly, the counterpoint of the twin
|
|
brother. God is the Devil himself even to the extent of
|
|
his true works."
|
|
"When he tells a story, sculpts, paints or composes
|
|
a tale, every artist blends together a thousand ele-
|
|
ments-a killing, a hat, a woman, a landscape...."
|
|
"Someone who produces needs to have a faker,
|
|
fraudster or swindler, an evil double, to show him how
|
|
to fix the deal."
|
|
"Giono has his fraudster on the broad highways of
|
|
his work, and Diderot has, for a whole lifetime, the
|
|
impostor Nephew. So who is doing the creating here?"
|
|
"That couple there, you said it! Maupassant and his
|
|
Horla; Mr So-and-So and his angel; married for better
|
|
or for worse, a worse which is as terrible as the better is
|
|
inspired."
|
|
She hesitates, but then resumes:
|
|
"Ordinary players are happy enough with the hand
|
|
they've been dealt. They resign themselves to it, and
|
|
they expect that everyone is going to be like them and
|
|
obey the rules of the game. These are mediocre but hon-
|
|
est existences. At the other extreme we find the card-
|
|
sharps. They're prepared to stake their lives against this
|
|
accord. However high the stakes may rise-and often
|
|
they rise to heights that are truly scary—at worst ordi-
|
|
nary players risk nothing worse than financial ruin. But
|
|
when you make a profession of cheating, you risk your
|
|
life, because your partners are likely to kill you the
|
|
moment they find out. This is playing for real, playing
|
|
for the big time!"
|
|
'The last pair: to create is to live! But one may die of
|
|
it."
|
|
"Not to cheat is not to play! This becomes the most
|
|
dangerous of games, because it might cost you your
|
|
life."
|
|
"An austere morality or immoral fraud! The rules
|
|
of the game turned inside out like a glove!"
|
|
"On life's crooked highways, the Artist and the
|
|
Nephew pursue their high-risk existences; they take
|
|
along with them the Narrator and the Philosopher, who
|
|
could not be what they are without them. What would
|
|
they have to narrate, or to philosophize, without this
|
|
sense of ever-present danger?"
|
|
Our friends are speechless.
|
|
At this point Pantope enters, well rested and ready for
|
|
what the day might bring:
|
|
"Can this game be played three-handed, Pia-you,
|
|
me and Jacques?"
|
|
Pia replies:
|
|
"Surely you don't think we're alone in this world,
|
|
Pantope? We're the devil incarnate, and each of us has
|
|
his own guardian angel!"
|
|
They laugh.
|
|
One of the men says: "Now, for a conjuror to perform
|
|
some brilliant card-trick or pull off a spectacular card
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
swindle, at the very least he's going to need a good pack
|
|
of cards, and he's going to need to be skilled in using
|
|
it-either that, or he'll need to be a pretty good actor."
|
|
"So, Pia," says the other, "show us the cards. Show
|
|
us the Artist's pack. Not the card-sharp's pack, because
|
|
anyone can see that, but the pack used by the novelist,
|
|
the painter..."
|
|
"The painter keeps within easy reach his palette or,
|
|
at the back of his secret garret, sometimes even
|
|
unknown to himself, the masterpiece, the capital, the
|
|
sum total, the reserve or the source of all his possible
|
|
production.
|
|
"At the end of his Chef-d'auvre inconnu, Balzac
|
|
reveals to the reader a picture which up until that
|
|
moment had remained hidden at the back of the studio.
|
|
The picture
|
|
displays such a mingling chaos of
|
|
colors, tones and shapes, such a mish-mash, that if one
|
|
could hear it, it would, of its own accord, give off the
|
|
background noise after which La Belle Noiseuse is
|
|
named.
|
|
"Let's take another look at our guardians: de Mau-
|
|
passant's The Horla gives us a kind of spirit, a phantom,
|
|
a vapor, a breath of wind or spirit of places; Giono
|
|
shows us an unobtrusive object such as a pack of cards;
|
|
Balzac shows us a canvas, a more complex object, but
|
|
already supplied with a woman's name, the quarrel-
|
|
some one, La Belle Noiseuse; Diderot and Giono place
|
|
their doubles side by side with them: the Artist and the
|
|
Nephew of an Artist.
|
|
"A definable character begins to emerge: an orphan
|
|
dressed in black who resembles me like a brother, and
|
|
who is born out of the movements of air, of the chaos of
|
|
the picture, or of combinations of number cards and
|
|
picture cards."
|
|
Here is every author's ideat
|
|
sleeping, dreaming, forehead and
|
|
elbows resting on the table while
|
|
the inspirational guardian angel,
|
|
with the simplest gestures,
|
|
cottones the works conoredo
|
|
The mirror repeats the form of
|
|
the double, no doubt a reversed
|
|
image, as the sleeper seems to be
|
|
the inspiration of the worker.
|
|
Pablo Picasso, The Muse, 1935.
|
|
Musée national d'Art moderne,
|
|
Centre Georges-Pompidou,
|
|
"The spectral apparition of the guardian angel!
|
|
Well done, Pia the artist!"
|
|
"By their sides, painters keep this palette, where
|
|
they prepare, in secret more than in the open, all colors
|
|
and shades. Sounds from noise to harmony, in the
|
|
case of artists. But the artisans of the written word also
|
|
have a bank like this, for all words in all meanings, a
|
|
treasury of acts of language, the most wildly divergent
|
|
|
|
contradictory opinions, contrary truths of every kind,
|
|
including those which one will not or cannot say,
|
|
behaviors, vices or virtues, and social or biological
|
|
species, plus the ability to make use of this total sum!
|
|
"Depending on whether we're writing stories or
|
|
portraits, thoughts or opinions, is it the case that we
|
|
draw on a reserve, an account, a storehouse, which will
|
|
be different for each, but which are required to exist and
|
|
function, as a precondition for creative life-that black
|
|
pit in which are mingled men and objects, true and
|
|
false, good and evil, reason and madness?
|
|
"In the same way that, in their studios, painters mix
|
|
a kind of greyish paste, a result of the colors and shades
|
|
which overflow from their tubes, a final palette which is
|
|
symmetrical with the original, in what clay of the same
|
|
kind do men of ink paddle?
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
"Does there exist, before fixed opinion or truth,
|
|
before the character that is drawn or finalized, a paste,
|
|
a capital sum or masterpiece, in nascent state?"
|
|
"A kind of bellowing or roaring noise sound and
|
|
fury-emanates from this pit."
|
|
The fact that the airport is built in the shape of a cylin-
|
|
drical crown means that the sounds of the people inside
|
|
it can be heard simultaneously with the sounds of the
|
|
aircraft and the winds around it.
|
|
They fall silent, as if listening, within themselves
|
|
and between themselves, to this gaping pit.
|
|
Jacques leaves to go and wake his daughter, who
|
|
has fallen asleep on one of the sick-bay benches. Pan-
|
|
tope steps in to take Jacques's place.
|
|
"Do you know why angels spend most of their time
|
|
composing or playing music?"
|
|
"Did I even know that they do?"
|
|
"This music rings out, thunders, vibrates without
|
|
speaking, makes noises or declaims without us being
|
|
able to make out what it is that it is seeming to want to
|
|
say: is it passion, ecstasy, pain, thunder...? Light,
|
|
mobile, fluctuating, it dances the entire range of the
|
|
possible. Using notes that never have a fixed meaning.
|
|
the music expresses universals that come before words
|
|
with meaning."
|
|
"Now, in the silence, I hear Rameau's Nephew play-
|
|
ing on an absent harpsichord or an invisible violin."
|
|
"Pantope, imagine a huge fan, lying open. At its
|
|
centre, where it comes to a point, is where fixed mean-
|
|
ing resides: that is where we find the sciences. Further
|
|
out towards the circumference is where music begins.
|
|
Between this area, of indeterminate meaning, and the
|
|
The prychopomp angel, the angel
|
|
that accompanies the souls of the
|
|
dead during and anter death
|
|
appears both in the polytheist
|
|
traditions of Greece (where the
|
|
role is played by Hermes), Egypt
|
|
and Rome and in the monotheist
|
|
religions of Judaism, Christianity
|
|
and klam. As in the rules of the
|
|
game, in life and in artistic
|
|
creation, our death calls on the
|
|
services of somebody to help us.
|
|
Israfil the Angel of Death,
|
|
Sounding his Trumpet. British
|
|
Library, London. The popular
|
|
tradition-although not the
|
|
Koran-assigns to this particular
|
|
angel the role of restoring souls to
|
|
bodies at the moment of their
|
|
resurrection. Israfil is the Arab
|
|
equrvalent of seratin
|
|
|
|
center, where words say only one thing, the intervening
|
|
space is governed by language— by meaning which is
|
|
half fixed and half free.
|
|
"The Nephew, a close relation of Rameau, dreams
|
|
of composing, plays extremely well, and teaches music
|
|
to young girls; Giono's Artist plays the guitar; Balzac
|
|
abruptly leaves Fernhofer and his painting in order to
|
|
make us hear, and no longer see, the noise of beauty, La
|
|
Belle Noiseuse."
|
|
"What writer has not dreamt of freeing himself
|
|
from meaning in order to compose music? What is the
|
|
point in writing if one hears nothing?"
|
|
"Filling the entire surface of the fan, style may
|
|
range from vocal exercises or evocation to exact knowl-
|
|
edge, and vice versa."
|
|
"Thus the musician angel guards the writer, who
|
|
dreams of imitating his guardian."
|
|
"Now, question: do you know why angels dance?"
|
|
"Did I even know that they do?"
|
|
"At Delphi the oracle sat on a tripod over a hole in
|
|
the ground. Out of the hole came smoke and flame. The
|
|
oracle gesticulated and uttered words which were either
|
|
devoid of meaning-musical, perhaps or were so
|
|
filled with meaning that they needed an interpreter
|
|
to decipher them. In the same way, the gesturing
|
|
arms of an orchestral conductor act as a semaphore,
|
|
indicating without words the spatial and temporal
|
|
directions of a score which, on its own, makes no sense
|
|
as discourse.
|
|
"When understanding and the voice are incap-
|
|
able of saying or expressing something, then the
|
|
body itself moves into action, in order to express
|
|
what the first two cannot. It enters into trance or into
|
|
dance.
|
|
|
|
On the stage, ballet dancers
|
|
display their bodies in movement,
|
|
following the rhythms of the
|
|
music. But what is it that they
|
|
indicate as they gesture towards
|
|
to transport cmore.t
|
|
surrounds them as they dance?
|
|
When we watch a piece of ballet.
|
|
are we ske naive simpretors viro
|
|
look at the finger of the person
|
|
who's pointing, rather than the
|
|
object at which it is pointing?
|
|
Dancers signify something.
|
|
But whom, and what? The
|
|
side deles or these orde
|
|
fade away, disappear, and that
|
|
invisible thing to which their
|
|
gestures allude suddenty
|
|
Kelemenis.
|
|
"Dance is transparent. It is indicative. It suggests
|
|
and describes. It signifies the universals that precede
|
|
meaning. A woman dancing may become a writhing
|
|
snake. A man dancing may, with the movements of his
|
|
body, imitate the arms and hands of the orchestral con-
|
|
ductor. Dancers have the ability to assume a thousand
|
|
and one positions. They have bodies which are know-
|
|
ing, which move, which can choose between ten thou-
|
|
sand different positions and pass with ease from any
|
|
one to any other. Their bodies are omnivalent; they are
|
|
white since they are capable of all colors, and formal-
|
|
ized— since they contain all virtual forms.
|
|
"The dancer, being inarticulate, precedes articles.
|
|
Adept at all positions, he expresses pre-positions. He is
|
|
as supple as a hand or a finger exercising on a piano
|
|
keyboard. He indicates towards, to, on, by, in, out of,
|
|
|
|
The bodies of dancers have the
|
|
ability to assume hundreds of
|
|
positions.
|
|
associates and combines these
|
|
codes, signs and physical forms in
|
|
the same way that tanquaces dol
|
|
with letters and phonemes. In order
|
|
to be able to assume all these
|
|
posetions with esse, doncers put
|
|
themselves through a hard and
|
|
demanding process of gymnastic
|
|
training which ensures that theis
|
|
muscles and joints are supple. Thus
|
|
disposed or, perhaps, pre-posed,
|
|
the body inflects or is declined, to
|
|
match any positions that may be
|
|
required. Since it is before
|
|
movement. can one say that it is in
|
|
a state of pre-position? A grammar
|
|
decodes dance, and vice versa.
|
|
Europa ballet company.
|
|
|
|
GU A KOIANS
|
|
behind, before, close to, under, between, during, after, before,
|
|
despite, against, except... All space, all time, all circum-
|
|
stances, relations and relationships. A universal media-
|
|
tor.
|
|
"Dance shows us a body which is pre-posed, in the
|
|
same way that music enables us to hear pre-posed
|
|
meaning, so that we can, at leisure, think, act and work
|
|
with meaning or without meaning, with Being or with-
|
|
out it, I mean exclusively by communications: mime."
|
|
At this point Pantope gets up. He stands in front of Pia,
|
|
and she laughs uproariously as he begins clapping his
|
|
hands and singing. Holding out his arms, he dances
|
|
and comes across to invite her to follow him, while all
|
|
the time muttering in a kind of recitative:
|
|
"...On the stage, in front of us, during the ballet,
|
|
or in the pure air in which the couples gambol, the
|
|
young man flies and leaps over the boards, as if
|
|
launched or sailing in the air and uprooting himself
|
|
from the ground to the sky, all of a sudden, seeming to
|
|
fly through space; then, suddenly crouching, flattening
|
|
down to the ground, lost or destroyed by the emotion of
|
|
melody, at the feet of the female partner sharing in his
|
|
pas de deux, pressed up against him since their first
|
|
encounter, and himself as if coiled up with her, both of
|
|
them, now separate from each other, under the pressure
|
|
of trumpets and horns, to soar apart from each other,
|
|
light, playful, still following the rhythm of the music,
|
|
indicating with their arms, their limbs, their bodies and
|
|
heads, some invisible event taking place above them, or
|
|
in the space around them, or, perhaps, drawn down
|
|
below, perhaps to Hell, by Fate, or drawn to the left by
|
|
hope, or driven back from the right by some fear, rush-
|
|
ing forward, dodging in order to avoid some danger, as
|
|
if the whole of reality existed outside of them and
|
|
between them, and as if they lived with neither weight
|
|
nor substance, but solely occupied in indicating
|
|
... while they themselves are empty, white, transpar-
|
|
ent, devoid of all stability, and thus in an ecstasy of exis-
|
|
tence, floating, insensate, outside of all meaning, and
|
|
thus capable of evoking, universally
|
|
"...body-as-music before body-as-word, situated
|
|
in space and in movement by time, posed in the world
|
|
and outside of it, preceding meaning, surrounded by
|
|
prepositions and playing with them, toying with them,
|
|
like so many white ribbons floating, colored, around its
|
|
virginity."
|
|
He acts out the words as he speaks them; she willingly
|
|
plays along with him, leaping about and laughing....
|
|
When they are finally out of breath, they stop.
|
|
"In the case of a writer—a midwife of singular lives,
|
|
immersed up to his eyes in meaning-the palette has to
|
|
be transformed into a person, a double, whose own sin-
|
|
gularity is precisely the fact of not having singularity: of
|
|
being capable of everything.
|
|
"Before anything at all is produced, the palette, the
|
|
invisible spirit or the hidden object here take on a role
|
|
as that thing through which I pass in order to enter into
|
|
relation with everything and everyone: a universal
|
|
mediator-philosophy is always a procuress a Her-
|
|
mes, an intermediary, a medium, an actor, or rather
|
|
mime, a double who accompanies me, or a Horla who
|
|
is first outside of me. I have to feed it so that it can
|
|
finally make me live and think—a dancer, a parasite, a
|
|
hermaphrodite, a guardian angel.
|
|
"Since music expresses that which precedes mean-
|
|
128
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
ing, a writer-music's successor in meaning and lan-
|
|
guage-thus always finds himself close to a musician,
|
|
his distant predecessor, and to an actor, his immediate
|
|
predecessor. The Nephew, agnate or cognate, of
|
|
Rameau, a composer, becomes his neighbor, his double,
|
|
his brother, whom he cannot do without if he has aspi-
|
|
rations to thought or creativity."
|
|
"He has to feed him and house him. There you have
|
|
'his parasite."
|
|
"He cannot write without him: here is the source of
|
|
his inspiration."
|
|
"The guardian angel who lies between us and all our
|
|
neighbors both near and far thus preconditions all our
|
|
relationships."
|
|
"This orphan who resembles me like my own
|
|
brother dresses in black; alternatively, invisible, this
|
|
double becomes white and transparent. Black or white,
|
|
colors that are simple but omnivalent."
|
|
"Pia, do you remember the rotundas or round-houses
|
|
that they used to have on the railways?"
|
|
"No."
|
|
"When locomotives went in for repair, they were
|
|
shunted off the rails and placed on circular, rotating
|
|
platforms. In this way, once repaired, they could be
|
|
spun round to take any one of a number of possible
|
|
directions according to which rail option was chosen.
|
|
"Left or right, forward or backwards, to Strasburg
|
|
or Bordeaux, after or during, take your pick, these loco-
|
|
motives led their puffing existences in the realm of the
|
|
possible. The platform could turn in all directions; it
|
|
had no direction in itself. It was like a weather-vane,
|
|
pointing towards all positions
|
|
"..and since genius is ready to think of every.
|
|
The french oreposition verd
|
|
indicates a direction: to go vers
|
|
Tokyo, to fly wers Rome or Ria....
|
|
were doine, thee
|
|
verto, means to turn, to turn into
|
|
"we Wonder
|
|
wonders! The same word is used to
|
|
define both a movement of
|
|
rotation as if in the spreading ofa
|
|
fan. When we say that a thing or
|
|
an idea is uni-vers-sl, presumatly
|
|
we mean that it can turn in all
|
|
directions. On the ra ways, in the
|
|
old days train divers would use
|
|
rotunda in order to turn their
|
|
locomotives and point them in the
|
|
to carriages that were marshaled
|
|
on the fan-like array of rails
|
|
|
|
Here is the reality of the process
|
|
of writing: a small glimmer
|
|
Illuminates the initial moment of
|
|
creativity-next to the writer,
|
|
outside of him, outside of his body,
|
|
his pen, his page, his table...
|
|
Who is the shadow that holds it?
|
|
Is this an angelic figure that
|
|
remors him literat
|
|
a demon seeking to put him to
|
|
Seth or it the owner at
|
|
a storchouse or treasury in which
|
|
he can fish, before then, in turn,
|
|
taking his place as an
|
|
Gabriel Metsu (1629-67),
|
|
The Letter Writer. Musée Fabre,
|
|
thing, it contains the capacity of every personage.
|
|
"Preceding all signification, genius is the musi-
|
|
cian—a rotunda man if ever there was. And before all
|
|
gestuality, it is the mime and dancer. Before all truth. it
|
|
passes for a liar and swindler, because it is capable of
|
|
guaranteeing all demonstrations. Before all opinion, it
|
|
passes for inconstant, in so far as it's able to maintain as
|
|
many opinions as it needs, from every conceivable
|
|
angle. Before all personalite; for Harlequin, multiple
|
|
and inconstant. Before all morality, it is the cynic or he
|
|
who practises the usages and customs of all, concerned
|
|
only to cure his stomach cramps when he's hungry:
|
|
|
|
GUARDIANS
|
|
above all things possible and created, here he is,
|
|
changeable and different, rotunda and weather-vane,
|
|
white and transparent."
|
|
"The rotunda is round so that, moving through its
|
|
circular range of possibilities, one can choose from
|
|
among ali directions the direction one wishes to
|
|
take."
|
|
"Doesn't Diderot thus personify the En-cyclo-pédie?"
|
|
"This thing or this man give cause for fear, because
|
|
they are alienated or possessed by others. Madmen:
|
|
Rameau's Nephew, and Fernhofer; madmen: the Horla,
|
|
the narrator, the artist; possessed by others: Hermes,
|
|
the Hermaphrodite, the Parasite, Harlequin..."
|
|
"...And you, Pia, who attend to everybodys
|
|
ills..."
|
|
"…. And you, Pantope, who travel the world..."
|
|
"The sum of others equals a rotunda and tends to
|
|
the universal."
|
|
"An individual without the principle of individua-
|
|
tion, a sum of possible individuals, a palette-man, a
|
|
spectrum of all colors coming together in a white
|
|
apparition.
|
|
"Never posed or still, dancing like a flame, mobile,
|
|
roaming at random, we see it with difficulty, because it
|
|
is not easily available to simple minds, which, in any
|
|
case, are dazzled by it.
|
|
"White and translucent, it dogs the heels of anyone
|
|
who produces, like his own shadow or his incandescent
|
|
angel.
|
|
"In the most naïve or the most scientifically
|
|
definable of senses, an archangel guards the inventor.
|
|
I say archangel because arche means the capital, the
|
|
well, the reserve, as well as the beginning. The
|
|
guardian angel always places himself between us
|
|
and others, as a rotunda, in order to open up our
|
|
capacities. But the archangel also embodies and offers
|
|
this storehouse.
|
|
"Such a piece of writing, in meaning, with mean-
|
|
ing, and through meaning, in it and for it, I was almost
|
|
going to say follows the meaning, of necessity, even if,
|
|
sometimes, it creates it, but the double who precedes it
|
|
in the night, precedes meaning and does not follow
|
|
meaning."
|
|
"Thus a musician. Thus a mime and dancer. Thus a
|
|
weather-vane and rotunda. Thus depraved. Thus mad-
|
|
man. Thus parasite. Thus very clever. Thus supremely
|
|
intelligent. Thus white. Thus dangerous for morality
|
|
and none the less necessary to the upbringing of chil-
|
|
dren."
|
|
"And there, large as life, not lacking in a single
|
|
hair, nail or human characteristic, we have Rameau's
|
|
Nephew in person.
|
|
"Let's play a guessing game. Who is he, then? A
|
|
parasite, for sure, a disturbing companion, but also a
|
|
noise and music which sound in the ear and enchant
|
|
the hearing, a constant tonality which is forever in occu-
|
|
pation, as a parasite-in the triple sense, as an unin-
|
|
vited guest, as a dangerous pest, and as transmissional
|
|
noise— and finally as a white dancer, who is able to imi-
|
|
tate everything: prostitutes decked with silver, way-
|
|
ward thoughts, chess players pushing their pieces,
|
|
actresses both good and bad, the financier or farmer-
|
|
general, as well as the public figure or politician,
|
|
mimes, masks and personifications of the capacity of
|
|
omnitude.
|
|
"Everything is possible, hence his name: he is walk-
|
|
ing on dangerously thin ice.
|
|
|
|
y bow lie go leo, urse sy
|
|
U se TUOyo> puR sadeys palesages
|
|
witneston tenomum
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
"Another guess: is it an object? Here is the fresh
|
|
pack of cards, the notes, the gestures, the palette or the
|
|
dancing of flames during a house of fire; starting from
|
|
fire, everything is possible, because there lies the source
|
|
of energy-the rotunda of the sun.
|
|
"If he is a man, there is the parasite and his succes-
|
|
sion of masks and doubles; it's a bit shocking, isn't it,
|
|
that we can only produce with the presence of another
|
|
party who does not produce.
|
|
"The producers stake the content, and the parasites,
|
|
who always win, stake the position. No, I am not
|
|
engaging in wordplay when I call them pre-positions.
|
|
"If it is a word, then there are more prepositions.
|
|
They put into a relationship the two ends of an inter-
|
|
vening space, as procurers; these latter act as go-
|
|
betweens between prostitutes, the wives of all men, and
|
|
male clients, the husbands of all women. Prepositions
|
|
are language's pimps and go-betweens, as thoughts are
|
|
for philosophy."
|
|
"Thus Xenophon's Socrates-the voice of the out-
|
|
sider, that of the guest, of the parasite -defines philoso-
|
|
phy.
|
|
"Is Rameau's Nephew also the procurer in relation
|
|
to Diderot's thoughts, to his whores of the Palais Royal?™
|
|
"He is a spirit, here he is, invisible, dangerous, com-
|
|
ing from everywhere, capable of everything."
|
|
"Is he a good angel or a bad angel?"
|
|
"Both, but a guardian angel in any event."
|
|
"Are we all producers?"
|
|
"More or less. It depends on our guardian angel:
|
|
simple, or, on the contrary, deploying all the riches
|
|
which we have just detailed, thanks to the more honest
|
|
among those who have been willing to show it.
|
|
"And genius reaches heights of divinity when the
|
|
Cervantes' masterpiece- which
|
|
I would say is a masterpiece of all
|
|
humanity- leaves us in doubt as to
|
|
who twould oddersoni
|
|
Is it Don Quixote or is it Sancho
|
|
Panza. Who wrote our present
|
|
dialog? Pantope or Pla?
|
|
Honoré Daumier (1808-79),
|
|
Don Quixote, c. 1868. The Burrell
|
|
Collection, Glasgow, Scotland.
|
|
double then becomes duplicated, to produce, in a subtle
|
|
interplay of mirrors, images that are identical and
|
|
reproduced, to infinity. Here we have the omniscient
|
|
Don Quixote, perched high on his verbal knowledge,
|
|
and the realist Sancho, even more of a dreamer, with his
|
|
nose firmly in everyday things and his head in the
|
|
realm of proverbs. Cervantes wrote the most perfect of
|
|
works of human creativity, with and against all others,
|
|
and in producing multiplicities of doubles."
|
|
"Which angel is it that guards and inspires the
|
|
other. the baleful figure of the knight, or the fat-bellied
|
|
donkey-driver?"
|
|
"The one or the other? The one and the other? The
|
|
brightly archangelic discourse of their mutual relations?
|
|
"Guess, Pantope."
|
|
"Were I to discover that, I would become a writer," he
|
|
replies, humbly.
|
|
Blushing, she takes his hand.
|
|
|
|
Préposer: to put somebody in a
|
|
position to carry out a function by
|
|
gming triem the mears or the
|
|
etrotuyte tomi te trh terun
|
|
préposé in french may refer to an
|
|
toddt.0 1Commonh
|
|
uotottedman
|
|
When messengers are
|
|
comirone o rampor mne WINGED MESSENGERS
|
|
through messuge-bearing systers
|
|
they require some means of
|
|
transport: Hermes and the myriad
|
|
angeis trawel on wings; the postman
|
|
carries his bicycle-or is it the other
|
|
way round?
|
|
Jacques Tati (1908-82),
|
|
Enter Jacques and his daughter, hand in hand.
|
|
"We've come for the French lesson," says the girl.
|
|
Since Pantope already knows about grammar, he
|
|
leaves.
|
|
Jour de Fête (1948).
|
|
Mathis Grünewald (1460 or
|
|
1475-1528), Isenhewm Altar, 1512-15,
|
|
detad of the Katrity, with large
|
|
nunoemortreeen
|
|
in attendance....
|
|
Unterlnoen Mereum, Colmar,
|
|
Germary.
|
|
Angélique sits next to Pia and asks:
|
|
"I'm called je when I say 'T love you', and me when
|
|
you love me. Why is that? Sometimes I'm also called
|
|
moi. Three names in addition to my own!"
|
|
Pia, revelling in her new role:
|
|
"Those are what we call pronouns. You're called tu
|
|
or te when I'm talking to you, and you might also be
|
|
called toi, as in pour toi."
|
|
"The words change but I don't."
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
"Here you are, standing in front of me. Now turn
|
|
around. Now bow."
|
|
Angélique takes a bow and says:
|
|
"You see me from the side, from the back, and from
|
|
the front. In the process I move but I don't change! I
|
|
incline towards you."
|
|
"Look at this book-open flat on the table-and
|
|
then look at it from the back, closed and standing on a
|
|
bookshelf. Is it the same book?"
|
|
"Yes and no, Pia."
|
|
"Before coming to Rome, you passed through
|
|
Berlin. In Germany, people have this way of changing
|
|
their words. For instance, the word Kamerad, meaning a
|
|
friend, changes depending on whether you're talking
|
|
about the friend, about his character, about the person
|
|
who knows him, or about the woman to whom he is
|
|
being introduced.."
|
|
"And how do you and I say that sort of thing in
|
|
English?™
|
|
"We have a number of neat little words which we
|
|
place in front of the noun 'friend'—of him, to him, for
|
|
him, by him... What does your teacher say about all
|
|
this?"
|
|
"She says those kinds of words are called 'invari-
|
|
able: they have no gender, so they're neither masculine
|
|
nor feminine, and they can't be plural either."
|
|
"That's prepositions for you. They don't change in
|
|
themselves, but they change everything around them:
|
|
words, things and people."
|
|
"Like multiplication signs when you're doing
|
|
sums?"
|
|
"Almost. You don't say Pia offrir gâteau Angelique
|
|
Pia gives cake Angélique', but Elle le donne à sa nièce
|
|
'She gives it to her niece'. Words would be incredibly
|
|
Prepositions are préposes which
|
|
work at inflecting and declining
|
|
the verbs and nours of our
|
|
language. They are small, like
|
|
bend and inflect rough timbers in
|
|
and keel of a boat. They engage in
|
|
operations which may escape our
|
|
watchful eye.
|
|
Jack Scher, Gulliver's Travels
|
|
(1960).
|
|
stiff without these little tools to make things supple and
|
|
pliable."
|
|
"Like when you're kneading dough for bread?"
|
|
"Yes. This molding, this mastication of words is
|
|
what makes meaning. Open your eyes, my lovely: see
|
|
the cake, and its cream and its fruit; see your aunt,
|
|
wearing her white blouse; observe the gesture of giv-
|
|
ing; now, do you see how there are certain words flying
|
|
around between the volumes of things? These are the
|
|
words which make our hands stretch out, make the
|
|
cake pass from my hands to yours, make people bow
|
|
and dance and give and receive?"
|
|
"So there are big words, which are visible, and oth-
|
|
ers which are invisible, like fairies, dwarfs and goblins?"
|
|
"All that most people- even grand philosophers-
|
|
|
|
usually concern themselves with is the big, fat, impor-
|
|
tant words: verbs, which may be active or passive, and
|
|
substantives, which are full of substance. Only children
|
|
know how to laugh and tumble with the leaps and som-
|
|
ersaults of the little words! These grand people think in
|
|
the same way that people used to talk in telegrams in
|
|
the old days: Pia gives cake Angélique', and when they
|
|
do that they strip the pace out of the dance of meaning,
|
|
the supple interrelations between these stiff, lumbering
|
|
skeletons."
|
|
Angélique doesn't quite follow this, but she says
|
|
dreamily:
|
|
"I imagine the big words being like God, the Pope
|
|
and the Saints. Rather stilted, starchy, stiff and awk-
|
|
ward, as if they were at the coronation procession of the
|
|
Queen of England, with her pumpkin-shaped coach.
|
|
But all the time there are tiny little words jumping
|
|
around all over the place, and they have the ability to
|
|
change Cinderella into a princess. What do you think,
|
|
Pia? Are those the same angels that are in my name?"
|
|
"You're understanding all this very well, An-
|
|
gélique, my pet. You've just explained it perfectly!"
|
|
"Pia's like a donkey..."
|
|
"That's not very polite!"
|
|
"No, Pia! Mummy told me about the donkey in the
|
|
Bible. It saw an archangel standing in its way, but the
|
|
donkey's master was blind and he just kept hitting it
|
|
with a stick to make it go."
|
|
"I suppose we do have to be a bit like that donkey,
|
|
to see dwarfs, prepositions and angels at work."
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
"So now I want to know everything about my
|
|
angels. Their names, their number, their type and their
|
|
gender!"
|
|
"You're asking me for the moon!"
|
|
"And the stars too."
|
|
"All right, you shall have them. The biggest of your
|
|
angels is called de —OF. It's used all the time in French,
|
|
and you find it everywhere. The minute we open our
|
|
mouths, there it is, buzzing round our lips, like a bee in
|
|
summer."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"Because it can mean all sorts of things, and carries
|
|
an enormous number of messages. Listen to it hum-
|
|
ming around: à l'aéroport de Paris... la nièce de Pia ….
|
|
partie de Rome aux vacances de Noël ... mange sur la table
|
|
de bois ..
|
|
"...un gúteau de riz."
|
|
"Because we hear it so often, we no longer really hear it.
|
|
And since it blows in all directions, in itself it says
|
|
almost nothing and is virtually silent. White, transpar-
|
|
ent and invisible, like an angel."
|
|
"So it's invariable, like my teacher says. Neither
|
|
boy nor girl."
|
|
"Or, if you prefer, both boy and girl! Put a long dress
|
|
on it."
|
|
"I see it pleated at the bottom, with colored smock-
|
|
ing on the yoke."
|
|
"Good. Almost as frequent and transparent as de is
|
|
the second one, which is à —AT. Listen to it: Arrinee à
|
|
Paris à dix heures ... dans son pantaion à pois... pour ren-
|
|
trer à la maison... Angélique me parle à l'oreille.. avant
|
|
de jouer à la balle et de s'endormir à poings fermés.."
|
|
"... You forgot the tarte à la framboise."
|
|
he ohilosooher and ohysicist
|
|
Lucretius theorized a very slight
|
|
curvature, which he called
|
|
ocoiroonorireire
|
|
(kilinamen), and to this he ascribed
|
|
a determining role in the origin
|
|
ocoines. Intorths orme
|
|
divergence brings about the
|
|
formation of a whirlwind. In this
|
|
me teedeeroow trewter
|
|
prepositions (which, in language,
|
|
are operative of declension)
|
|
dee sreseetne onworo
|
|
curvatures of dimatic turbulence.
|
|
Angeis, which are the préposts
|
|
otooiten tuwietwnrones
|
|
both verbal messengers and
|
|
elemental fluxes. This satellite
|
|
protoplopn sows Xormy
|
|
whirlwinds in the process of
|
|
formation, viewed from the south-
|
|
wcewe cnot wes ati
|
|
We ace at a latitude corresponding
|
|
to the Ivory Coast, at the interface
|
|
|
|
"After these big angels, which are more numerous
|
|
than all the stars in the sky, come the middling ones,
|
|
which are used slightly less frequently, like on, by, in, for,
|
|
under, between, towards... They still fly fairly high.
|
|
"...Then come the swarms of little ones: before,
|
|
behind, beyond, against, among and according to.... These
|
|
are adverbs more than prepositions. Finally, very close
|
|
to the ground, we have the tiny ones: except, excluding,
|
|
given, pending, during, following, encompassing... these
|
|
are participles.
|
|
"So there, dear Angélique, you have the names,
|
|
number and gender of these angels, which are boys and
|
|
girls, but at the same time neither boys nor girls..."
|
|
"Are they neuter?"
|
|
"I prefer to think of them as white. At the top of the
|
|
ladder or the list we have the brightest and most
|
|
sparkling one of all-de-which means everything and
|
|
says nothing. This word produces a sum total of colors:
|
|
white. Such is the stuff of life as far as verbs and nouns
|
|
are concerned. On the other hand, the lowest ones on
|
|
the scale show hardly any color at all."
|
|
"It all sounds like a rainbow, Pia. How were you
|
|
able to count all these prepositions, and classify
|
|
them?"
|
|
"By putting our whole language through a giant
|
|
computer."
|
|
|
|
A group of mourning putti weep
|
|
and lament the death of lesus
|
|
Christ. A similar group of angels,
|
|
whose function is to mourn,
|
|
surround the cross at the time ot
|
|
his death, and, since their function
|
|
is and joyous, attend his
|
|
resurrection on basker morning
|
|
The positions of their bodies
|
|
suggest a ballet directed by
|
|
a skilled choreographer.
|
|
Giotto frescoes.
|
|
a meteonen
|
|
Arena Chapel (1302-6).
|
|
Padua, Italy.
|
|
"Tell me something else. You've told me the names
|
|
of each of these angels, but you haven't explained how
|
|
they come to be called prepositions."
|
|
"Think of the postman who comes knocking at
|
|
your door in the morning. In French he is referred to as
|
|
a préposé."
|
|
"That's the word that my dad uses for the man who
|
|
looks after the park next to the Town Hall. And the man
|
|
who checked our bags at the customs."
|
|
"At the coronation of the Queen of England, when
|
|
you see all the bishops and peers and stuffy nobles fol-
|
|
lowing after her in the procession, wouldn't you say
|
|
they're sort of 'posed', sort of stuck in their ways?"
|
|
"A bit, Pia. Yes. Smug and contented, with their
|
|
big bellies."
|
|
"And then we have other beings, who fly and run,
|
|
who are more or less invisible, and who have the power
|
|
of inclining the stiff and the stilted towards declen-
|
|
sion—forcing stiff things into a state of flexibility. These
|
|
beings hardly settle or become 'posed' at all...."
|
|
"Light as a feather. Like birds."
|
|
"When nouns and verbs hold court, they sit on
|
|
thrones and big chairs, surrounded by their ministers.
|
|
But prepositions are lighter. They're like postmen run-
|
|
ning down the street to distribute letters, or like cus-
|
|
toms officials watching over ports, or like traveling
|
|
14S
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
salesmen, all of whom we refer to as pré-posés— pre-set-
|
|
tled, if you like."
|
|
"They travel the roads and highways; they create
|
|
them if they don't exist; and their messages serve to
|
|
transform fat-bellied stick-in-the-muds."
|
|
"I know, Pia-angels are God's prepositions."
|
|
"Yes, I think angelology could agree with that."
|
|
"Oooh that's a really ugly one—lolo!"
|
|
"You don't keep still for a moment, do you,
|
|
Angélique….!"
|
|
"What do you take me for, a prépose?"
|
|
She laughs, and then yawns.
|
|
As Angélique falls asleep again, Pia turns to Jacques,
|
|
who has been eavesdropping on the conversation:
|
|
"The relationships and forces which sculpt lan-
|
|
guages, in declining them or inflecting them, mold not
|
|
only the words, but also their syntax.
|
|
"So angels are representations of the Word, their
|
|
forms as messengers can be seen as types of metaphor:
|
|
hosts or legions of angels suggest liturgical repetition
|
|
and acclamation; a visitation of angels can be indicated
|
|
by euphemism or hyperbole; disappearing angels are
|
|
represented by ellipses and litotes. and finally angels
|
|
playing the lute or psaltery enact the sublime interces-
|
|
sion of the Word. As personifications of prepositions
|
|
and figures of the divine rhetoric, they create God's
|
|
style."
|
|
"Functionaries in the service of the Word?"
|
|
"Already present—always and everywhere-when
|
|
the need of a transformation begins to be felt. Weaving
|
|
space, constructing time, they are the precursors of
|
|
every presence.... In fact, dare I say it, the pré-poses are
|
|
there even before the fact of being there.
|
|
Poitioned in a multiplicity of
|
|
posed around a trompe-"'all
|
|
skylight set high in the ceiling-an
|
|
called Panoptes in ancient
|
|
mythology, in other words the all.
|
|
seeing one. Here is the eye of all
|
|
Cresolen trom the descense
|
|
This multiplication of viewpoints
|
|
expands the intimate chamber to
|
|
14S
|
|
|
|
WINGED MESSENGERS
|
|
set it on the scale of the outside
|
|
everywhere. Thus prepositions
|
|
adapt language to the world, by
|
|
decining it
|
|
Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506).
|
|
decoration of the Camera degli
|
|
3005, 140/-14, Ducal Palace,
|
|
"Here is the world in which we live, as I see it: the
|
|
space-time of communication, the metaphysics of the
|
|
service industries... the all-embracing environment in
|
|
which we exist ... the intercommunication of message-
|
|
bearing systems!"
|
|
"So something which appears almost imaginary or
|
|
abstract becomes, in fact, entirely practical and con-
|
|
crete."
|
|
"Finally, have you noticed how circumspect angels
|
|
are, and how their messages are always brief? Like
|
|
prepositions, they say very little, but they affect the des-
|
|
tiny of all whom they visit."
|
|
"Messengers, to be sure; but more than that-
|
|
kneaders of human dough."
|
|
"Prepositions transform words and syntax, while
|
|
the pré-poses transform men."
|
|
Jacques still has Rome and Prague in mind:
|
|
"When we look at altarpieces, we see angels every-
|
|
where-outside, inside and beyond them. Behind altars
|
|
and in front of them. On the ceilings of churches, and all
|
|
around. Simultaneously close to us and God, and also
|
|
distant. Against us, with us and despite us. Next to each
|
|
and every one of us. Good or bad. Traveling by means of
|
|
or through space. Towards heaven or coming from
|
|
heaven. Always among or within everything and every-
|
|
one. For example, within or among the One, through
|
|
him, with him and in him, the multiple and the totality,
|
|
from the beginning to the end of time, before, during
|
|
and after events, following the living present, both out-
|
|
side and inside and beyond systems..... They construct
|
|
and subtly describe local spaces and times, and end,
|
|
finally, by invading the universe of communication and
|
|
becoming visible in order to initiate dialogs or bring
|
|
|
|
MORNING
|
|
company to those in solitude: the contrary of a ladder of
|
|
power…. as long as the child remains there."
|
|
"You are able to speak of angels thanks to preposi-
|
|
tions, just as Angélique spoke of prepositions thanks to
|
|
angels."
|
|
"To each age its word."
|
|
"Its discretion and its sleep."
|
|
As the little girl sleeps, her face is the image of those
|
|
chubby, red-lipped putti that are such inveterate dis-
|
|
turbers of ecclesiastical tranquillity. They fall silent,
|
|
caught in the brilliance of her spell.
|
|
Standing there, they can still hear their grandfather,
|
|
before he died, declaring his love of children:
|
|
"Ever since the evolution of species invented sex,
|
|
love has always gone hand in hand with death. Giddy
|
|
youth intermingles with its passions both suicide and
|
|
murder-death both received and given. Old age is
|
|
fully aware of the proximity of the Grim Reaper, and it
|
|
transforms that presence with love. Here it is, powerful
|
|
and pure, living in me and strong as I have ever known.
|
|
"The love of little children is free from this over-
|
|
weening concern with sex," he says. "It bears us away
|
|
on the river of eternal time, as we cling to a drifting tree
|
|
trunk that has been uprooted by the rising waters of the
|
|
tide. I already hear the foaming of the current, the back-
|
|
ground noise whose chaos absorbs me as my life begins
|
|
to ebb. I do not know whether my lineage will continue.
|
|
In the line that stretches from Angélique to me, the flex-
|
|
ible flowerings of the possible transform into the crack-
|
|
ing wooden knots of my arthritic joints.
|
|
"Here I am now, carried along by the current of
|
|
flux. In the central axis of life, time flows, all alive. And
|
|
through the backbone of that time passes a vibrant
|
|
upwelling of love. Now, the closer it brings people who
|
|
are of the same age, the more it burns with flames of
|
|
passion and sickness, all of which derive terribly from
|
|
death. When it brings together those who are furthest
|
|
apart, it divests itself of all that. Envy, hatred, jealousy
|
|
and suchlike ignominies fall by the wayside. What
|
|
remains-transparent, white, incandescent, light-bear-
|
|
ing, gentle, hot without burning, flying— is the love of
|
|
young children, of whom it is written that their angels
|
|
see God face to face.
|
|
"Angélique shows me their place, the place which
|
|
will soon be mine."
|
|
As Pia gazes at the sleeping child, she says out loud:
|
|
"Who is it who exposes little children to all this-the
|
|
children of the South to famine, sickness and crime, and
|
|
those of the rich North to drugs and never-ending
|
|
depictions of murder and violent sex? Do we hate them
|
|
so much, even when their very presence answers so
|
|
many of our questions?
|
|
"Why are there so many sciences if not for these
|
|
angels?"
|
|
Chidren think it's important to
|
|
be big and grown-up, and some
|
|
adults, if they've never grown up.
|
|
think the same. There they stand,
|
|
as cardboard puppets, or wax
|
|
dummies. The process of growing
|
|
ittle ones-the ordooses-so oliant
|
|
and mobile that they seem to have
|
|
wings are more important than
|
|
the big ones, stuck in their
|
|
posedness.
|
|
El Angelito, 1987, Morella,
|
|
Spain.
|
|
14s
|
|
|
|
MIDDAY
|
|
|
|
Three times a day, the bell rings
|
|
and commemorates the
|
|
Arnune.won
|
|
Anee wonartawitwrwe
|
|
The Angel of the Lord spoke unto
|
|
Wary
|
|
And she conceived by the Holy
|
|
Spirit
|
|
Behold the handmaid of the Lord
|
|
Fist mihi secundum verbum tuum
|
|
Be it be unto me according to thy
|
|
word
|
|
I?wehtm Catn yactum ner
|
|
Rno trweoysmode thh
|
|
Et habitavit in nobis
|
|
And cwelt among us.
|
|
The widespread popul arity o
|
|
this daily ritual, which celebrates
|
|
the bringing of the good tidings—
|
|
as also the great popularity of
|
|
Millet's picture in its time—have
|
|
their modern equivalent in our
|
|
ttwweltC
|
|
news on TV or radio several times
|
|
a day.
|
|
Jean-Hangois willet (1819-75)
|
|
The Angefus, 1857. Muste d'Orsay,
|
|
Paris, France.
|
|
Recing result, Wales.
|
|
ANGELUS
|
|
Angélique and Jacques have taken a domestic flight
|
|
and by now are well on their way home.
|
|
Pantope and Pia sit down to eat, in one of the air-
|
|
poot restaurants.
|
|
le sound on the television is turned up so his
|
|
at they have difficulty hearing themselves spe.
|
|
Pia, harking back to years gone by:
|
|
"Morning, noon and night, the angelus bell would
|
|
ring to mark the passing of the archangel. It rang out
|
|
the news of the Annunciation: the conception, incama-
|
|
tion and birth of our hope.
|
|
"We were constantly apprised of the divinity of our
|
|
flesh, the recommenced commencement of Christ's
|
|
|
|
coming into the world, the wondrous event that saves
|
|
us from death.
|
|
"Morning, noon and night, with the meal that
|
|
accompanies it, a message rings out announcing the
|
|
good tidings, that joyous mystery of life.
|
|
Pantope, very much in the present:
|
|
"Morning, noon and night, we do better than the
|
|
believers of yester-year, because we never miss see-
|
|
ing or hearing the world's news. At every meal.
|
|
He points at the television.
|
|
Pia, doggedly:
|
|
"It was an angel that brought the good news of the
|
|
Annunciation; we don't call our TV announcers angels.
|
|
However, behind the two words 'announcer' and
|
|
'annunciation', which have a similarity, there continues
|
|
the same very ancient function, of transmitting mes-
|
|
Alla
|
|
sages, of reporting, as promptly as may be, things that
|
|
are happening elsewhere."
|
|
Pantope, confidently:
|
|
"The ethereal bodies of angels traveled at the
|
|
speed of their thoughts; their successors travel at the
|
|
speed of light: the game's a draw, a dead heat."
|
|
She, uneasily:
|
|
"From where? To where?"
|
|
He, triumphantly:
|
|
"Progress! We see the faces and bodies of ou
|
|
announcers, whereas the angels of antiquity didn't
|
|
show themselves at all or at least only rarely."
|
|
She describes what she sees:
|
|
"Human suffering, morning noon and night! Disas-
|
|
ters, wars, earthquakes, volcanoes, epidemics, fires,
|
|
famines, crises, scandals, civil unrest, coups d'éta,
|
|
crime, injustice, trials, murder, dead bodies, corpses,
|
|
corpses, corpses.... The same endless train of bad
|
|
|
|
19:36:44
|
|
LA GUERRE
|
|
3H02
|
|
news... Always tragic. And in all these just one theme
|
|
is repeated, in a hundred different forms, reiterated
|
|
since the dawn of our time. Death. It's as if we've been
|
|
taken back to ancient times."
|
|
She continues:
|
|
According to Aristotie and the
|
|
their favored image. It matters
|
|
"Has anyone ever counted the number of deaths
|
|
dassical dramatists, dread and pity
|
|
little how the bodies came to be
|
|
which fill our ears and our eyes, our plates, our glasses,
|
|
were the two principal recourses of
|
|
dead-wars, accidents, revolutions,
|
|
even our mouths, as we eat?"
|
|
tragedy. Religions which ban
|
|
murder, assassinations... People
|
|
He waxes scientific:
|
|
images hold that all forms of
|
|
who have studied these things tell
|
|
"If you read the statistics, they say that by the time
|
|
figurative representation tend to
|
|
us that nowadays far and away the
|
|
he reaches the age of eighteen a teenager will have seen
|
|
drift towards the exhibition of
|
|
dominant image on television is
|
|
eighteen thousand murders-at least three per day.
|
|
death. Given the efficacy of death
|
|
that of dead bodies.
|
|
Morning, noon and night."
|
|
in drawing a crowd, our TV news
|
|
She asks: "Do you think this saturation will change
|
|
programmes nowadays apply the
|
|
precepts of. classical times and
|
|
feature piles of dead bodies as
|
|
Television images: China, June
|
|
1989 (left and center); France,
|
|
January 1991 (right).
|
|
the course of human history?"
|
|
He, visibly concerned:
|
|
"What hell is being prepared by this visual force-
|
|
feeding?"
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
MID DAY
|
|
She spells it out in detail:
|
|
"A minor screenplay of the world's lesser localities,
|
|
where fire explodes and blood is shed. Seeing that it
|
|
displays only people who've been killed, the so-called
|
|
'global village' is nowadays divided into a host of small
|
|
places, whose reputations only reach the world at large
|
|
if they ve been the scene of mass murders or something:
|
|
and once the lesson is learnt, everyone applies it. Tele-
|
|
vision lies at the active centre of this spiral that has
|
|
become self-perpetuating."
|
|
He, in a juridical aside:
|
|
"Who benefits from these crimes? What end do
|
|
they serve? And why?
|
|
Pia, self-assuredly:
|
|
"Power and glory."
|
|
Pantope, disgusted:
|
|
"A bad sign, when people vomit in their own
|
|
plates!"
|
|
She, thoughtfully:
|
|
"So what happened at the point when the new
|
|
announcers took over from the angels? Have we only
|
|
kept the fallen angels? Are we now only interested in
|
|
the glory of death, the orders of murderers, the powers
|
|
of the earth, the throne of glory and the dominion of
|
|
men?"
|
|
He, forlornly:
|
|
"In among these dismal repetitions of the world's
|
|
ancient miseries, when are we going to get a real piece
|
|
of news, and one that is good?"
|
|
She replies with a question:
|
|
"Will one alone be sufficient to save us?"
|
|
He, assertively:
|
|
"But our televisions don't transmit good news any
|
|
more. With every meal, we're forced to eat dead bodies
|
|
and drink spilt blood."
|
|
She picks up the menu:
|
|
"We've become cannibals again. Man is devouring
|
|
man, in untold numbers. Human beings on the
|
|
butcher's slab."
|
|
He turns away.
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
Lite a birth which regularly
|
|
begins anew, each meal restores
|
|
lite: bread and wine restore blood.
|
|
she odd
|
|
Lubin Baugin (c. 1610-63),
|
|
see du route
|
|
Paris, France.
|
|
She, resolutely:
|
|
"Morning, noon and night, henceforth, in me and
|
|
around me. I shall sing the divinity of the flesh and the
|
|
miracle of life."
|
|
She passes him the bread, and he pours wine into
|
|
their glasses. Then, both together, they ask:
|
|
"What shall we have to eat?"
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
|
|
Four feet and two wine.
|
|
Creatures with human heads and
|
|
the elements of several different
|
|
Doors word wealt
|
|
through the door, these monsters
|
|
announce that we are about to
|
|
enter another woeld. As walkers on
|
|
foot, we are about to fly, as dumb
|
|
animals with bovine neads, we are
|
|
now about to thick. Placed at the
|
|
entrances to temples and palaces.
|
|
the Assyrian winged bull oe kerub
|
|
fulfils the role of a guide taking us
|
|
in a new direction: the role of an
|
|
exchanger or interchanger.
|
|
Winged bull from the Palace of
|
|
Sargon at Khorsabad near Mosul,
|
|
wad, location of ancient assynd
|
|
Louvre, Paris, France,
|
|
A freeway interchange.
|
|
CHERUBIM
|
|
"Without them, what would I ever have learnt, and
|
|
who would ever think creatively?"
|
|
"Are you referring to anyone in particular?"
|
|
"T'm referring to you, who were just explaining
|
|
grammar to your niece, and the TV presenters who
|
|
reads the news, and all those whose announcements
|
|
transform our lives.
|
|
"These teachers or message bearers have two exis-
|
|
tences: the one down there and the one down here..
|
|
Of syntax and of the student.... They bridge two
|
|
worlds, in the same way as animals which both walk
|
|
and fly. The old human dream of becoming a bird
|
|
echoes the transition from the weighty to the volatile,
|
|
from feet to wings.
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
"Animals, machines, men: amphibious beings.."
|
|
"Take-off completed—pull up your undercarriage!"
|
|
"Not so simple! In ancient times, the temples of Baby-
|
|
lon were guarded by winged buils with the heads of
|
|
men, which the Jews in exile brought back to Jerusalem
|
|
to guard the Ark of the Covenant. The Assyrian word
|
|
kerub referred to these triple-natured beings, and that is
|
|
where we get the word 'cherub'."
|
|
"Angels and animals at the same time?"
|
|
"You may laugh, but listen to me! Have you ever
|
|
seen an animal combining two or three species?"
|
|
"Absolutely not."
|
|
"If a messenger takes you by the hand and changes
|
|
places with you within one same space, do you find
|
|
yourself any further advanced?"
|
|
"No. The train takes us from station to station, and
|
|
the automobile from one gas station to another, on the
|
|
same freeways. God, how boring!"
|
|
"Whereas birds, launched from the rooftops, soar
|
|
on clouds and aerial turbulence. They change element."
|
|
"Ah! I knew a bird once, Pia. A mountain guide
|
|
fixed a rope to my belt and opened another world to
|
|
me: ice and rock are more than slightly different from
|
|
ploughed earth and flower-filled meadows; a sheer
|
|
mountainside is something different compared with a
|
|
path in a forest. In mountains one's body is trans-
|
|
formed. Bread and tea don't have the same taste. Hum-
|
|
ble and ecstatic, aching but happy, a party of climbers
|
|
inches up a mountain; when they finally reach the sum-
|
|
mit, there is a rush of exhilaration, and what they see
|
|
resembles more planet Earth than mere ploughed
|
|
fields. Everything changes: sight, touch, breathing and
|
|
sweat. Silence. The closeness of air and sky. Life and the
|
|
closeness of death, your companion's smile, and the
|
|
uplift of your spirit.
|
|
"Tlove that bird who put wings on my feet. I didn't
|
|
become a flying creature by my own efforts, Pia-far
|
|
from it—it was thanks to him that I was able to pass,
|
|
surreptitiously, like a burglar, into this vast new world."
|
|
"So we feel a special gratitude to these extraordi-
|
|
nary pedagogues who make it possible for us to enter
|
|
new worlds."
|
|
"Pia, is it possible for an angel to lead a double
|
|
life?"
|
|
"An angel can even lead multiple lives, my ironical
|
|
|
|
Procerding as an interchanger at
|
|
the head of a climbing party, the
|
|
ounoinouieteikouehe wer
|
|
ahead, cuts steps, makes fast ropes,
|
|
advises and encourages.., and leads
|
|
his dlient nto a different workd
|
|
This world contains the conditions
|
|
that are necessary to the ordinary
|
|
wonld below. water, stored up in
|
|
snow and glaciers; rocks awaiting
|
|
erosion and disintegration in the
|
|
valleys, the onilians sunsnine that
|
|
transforms into gentier weather at
|
|
lower altrtudes.... Down there.
|
|
Hehonet dur voweetne
|
|
ouner trwse wioooner weainie
|
|
t0 understand conditions needs a
|
|
quide to the mourains neigns.
|
|
friend, because he may be a vulture or a kestrel—a crea-
|
|
ture of both heaven and earth, but also of flesh and of
|
|
spirit, of transparent abstraction and of visible concrete-
|
|
ness.."
|
|
".. like a geometric figure…."
|
|
"...of intelligence and of the senses.... of the heard
|
|
and of the unheard…."
|
|
".. like good music…."
|
|
"..of the visible and the invisible.."
|
|
".. like painting or mathematics..."
|
|
"I tell you what, Pia ... I remember the man who
|
|
taught me geometry. Let me tell you, he turned my
|
|
|
|
CHERUBIM
|
|
The phenomenon of aurora
|
|
boreals is caused by the interaction
|
|
between particles transmitted from
|
|
the sun and gas molecules in the
|
|
upper atmosphere. The sun's
|
|
corona emits a constant stream of
|
|
parties, Sometines known as
|
|
"solar wind, in normal
|
|
circumstances, the Earth's magnetic
|
|
blind. She took my fingers and placed them on the
|
|
piano, and its keys opened for me the white and black
|
|
grotto of sounds, in which the chromatic scale only
|
|
unfolds its colors to people with no eyes. I became
|
|
another kind of creature: a blind mole with long lobes,
|
|
from which hung harps, in curling clusters."
|
|
"When I'm in the mountains, trailing behind that
|
|
bird, I see myself as a dumb tortoise."
|
|
"We're monsters, we change species! Anyone who
|
|
doesn't become several animals at once is not worth
|
|
particles. However, sometimes
|
|
folent sunspots emit particles that
|
|
are sufficiently powerfully charged
|
|
to enable them to penetrate this
|
|
armor and ionize molecules of the
|
|
earth's atmosphere. While this
|
|
done ten may sethe
|
|
intellect, it leaves beauty deaf,
|
|
dumb and blind.
|
|
An aurora boreal's beneath the
|
|
Great Bear. Pekka Paniainen
|
|
Scientific Photography Library,
|
|
much."
|
|
"So is it the case that through angels we become
|
|
animals?"
|
|
"Yes, because they offer us a variety of specialities.
|
|
How are we to gain access to any of the thousand
|
|
worlds outside this one without these amphibious ped-
|
|
agogues? Their genius serves to create links between
|
|
things that have no necessary links.
|
|
"In imitation of the bird-bull cherub, a life that is
|
|
well-spent passes its time with both humble people and
|
|
kings, with the poor and the wealthy, with the ignorant
|
|
and those who believe themselves intelligent: it values
|
|
equally and joyously the wealth of the poor, the culture
|
|
of the ignorant, the incredible kingliness of simple folk,
|
|
world upside down! From that moment on, things were
|
|
the passive obedience of winners... It mocks degree."
|
|
never the same again. Everything changed-houses,
|
|
"I'm just wondering, Pia, what happens between
|
|
tables, the angles where the ceiling joins the walls, the the bird wings and the bull backbone of the creature!"
|
|
winding ribbon of a lane, the Gothic line created at the
|
|
"Between designates precisely the space in which
|
|
joining point of tall trees lining the sides of a road. Like- angels operate, the angels who create links between
|
|
wise the constellations studding the skies, and dialogs networks: between freeways and channels of sounds
|
|
with others.... That day a white aurora borealis and image... goat paths and computer circuits... rich
|
|
descended, the transparency of which has never since
|
|
magi and shepherds... the balm of death, myrth, per-
|
|
left me or disturbed my vision."
|
|
fumes the new-born child! As beings with a double
|
|
"The person who first introduced me to music was
|
|
nature, pedagogues, guides and cherubim enable us to
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
see the differences between worlds, and in so doing
|
|
they stitch together the unity of the new universe. With
|
|
them we are enabled to put together things that are dis-
|
|
parate. For instance, science and abject destitution..."
|
|
"...the theoretical and the concrete, the hardware
|
|
with the software.... So can we say that our more
|
|
advanced technologies are enacting the classic angelic
|
|
function of guiding?"
|
|
"More and more we are beginning to resemble
|
|
Tobias, walking behind Raphael."
|
|
"But where's he leading us?"
|
|
"Via a thousand interchanges!"
|
|
"Like the ones on freeways?"
|
|
"They embody and make possible our message-
|
|
bearing systems."
|
|
"Birds and frogs, aircraft and submarines, TV pre-
|
|
senters and professors... Do they cast down their bod-
|
|
ies like interchanges between terrestrial life and aquatic
|
|
or aerial life, on the one hand, and, on the other, the
|
|
known and the unknown?"
|
|
"Here's the answer to your question: between the
|
|
bird wings and the bull backbone of the creature there
|
|
are .... cherubim interchangers! Angels transport mes-
|
|
sages and passengers, but cherubim are amphibious
|
|
and embody a connection between two worlds."
|
|
"Correct. The guide knows both my world, and the
|
|
other world to which he is taking me. He can move in
|
|
two ways. He has two bodies: a weighty body in the
|
|
plain and a light body in the mountain. I swear that he
|
|
suddenly tucks up his feet and sprouts wings."
|
|
"Thus, more angelic than the simple messenger,
|
|
what the body of the interchange agent offers is a possi-
|
|
bility of intercommunication, a plasticity of message-
|
|
bearing systems."
|
|
As a living interchanger, the
|
|
guide or pedagogue has a double
|
|
body: one which is capable of
|
|
aderessng chiic noce, dna ahoaher
|
|
which leads childheed towards a
|
|
world in which, so far from
|
|
walking, one flies, or iratead of
|
|
staving sick orv becomes cured, of
|
|
where blindness is replaced by
|
|
dear-santedness and a woman's
|
|
Francesco Botticini (1446-98%,
|
|
The Archangel Raphael and the
|
|
Young Tobias. S. Maria del Fiore,
|
|
Florence, Italy. The young Tobias
|
|
here the want the tor yes
|
|
gall will provide a remedy for his
|
|
father; a concerted interplay moves
|
|
"wur chine one then
|
|
and between the aquatic creature
|
|
and the winged archangel-bird.
|
|
the dog patters siong at wee sect
|
|
The picture sets in play an
|
|
Interchange between the
|
|
pertormances of several species
|
|
which are connected by the two
|
|
held hands. A young boy, below,
|
|
sull at a stage before learning
|
|
contemolates the process of
|
|
pedagogy in action.
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
126 6 66
|
|
3912 to
|
|
1327
|
|
"If you travel in today's world, you carry with you
|
|
a multiple electric plug-round and female at one end
|
|
and square and male at the other. Hermaphroditic, in
|
|
fact. If you didn't have a translator like that you
|
|
wouldn't be able to shave in both France and America,"
|
|
says Pantope, laughing.
|
|
"These days, unless we have these amphibious
|
|
keys-teachers, or birds—how can we hope to make
|
|
anything function at all? And now businesspeople and
|
|
travelers, semi-conductors, inverters, transformers,
|
|
commutators, rectifiers, transistors,
|
|
silicon chips,
|
|
microprocessors... machines or devices that are
|
|
designed for connecting, transferring or translating a
|
|
thousand functions or machines one to another.
|
|
"Disparate networks can only be linked to each
|
|
other via a high technology of such interchangers.
|
|
Without these, there could be no long-distance travel
|
|
on freeways, or telephone conversations around the
|
|
½
|
|
C19
|
|
An interchanger connects
|
|
networks of different kinds:
|
|
physical, living, human, and
|
|
intellectual, And at all levels, from
|
|
the life-size to the microscopic. For
|
|
example, cherubim, in the genus of
|
|
the tesching of humanity's
|
|
children; clover-leaf interchanges
|
|
on roads and hichwavs intearated
|
|
circuit components of a network,
|
|
|
|
and billions of synapses at the ends
|
|
Onw wtatnn ttont.thtm
|
|
realms of manufacturing and
|
|
understanding.
|
|
Left, a picture showing the
|
|
comweeikoro nerwonet
|
|
rectangular shapes are integrated
|
|
circuits. Right, micrography of a
|
|
wohornoltora.inuhe
|
|
photograph grey matter appears as
|
|
yellow.
|
|
world, or links between computers—in short, no links
|
|
from one network to another.
|
|
"Scientists are even discussing the possibility of
|
|
implants in our brains, to connect with similar implants
|
|
in other people's brains."
|
|
"We were discussing earlier the sex of angels, an
|
|
old problem, once more resolved: sex, unfortunately,
|
|
has a name which suggests 'section', or a cutting-off,
|
|
whereas the interchanger joins together. Dare I say it,
|
|
cherubim live in a state of constant coitus, in an angelic
|
|
joy of mutual liking. Shall we live for all eternity in a
|
|
similar miracle of ecstasy?"
|
|
"We have other examples, nearer to hand: dictio-
|
|
naries serve as interchanges between languages . . .
|
|
together with grammar books and translators. Can we
|
|
perhaps think in terms of interchanges between human
|
|
lineages? Yes. Through the child who is chosen, adoption
|
|
brings together families and tribes with no previous
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
link: Oedipus connects a lineage of shepherds with a
|
|
dynasty of kings..
|
|
"Complex, this interlinking business!"
|
|
"Here's a health to it! Since Jesus is both the son of
|
|
God and a son of man, by his double nature he creates
|
|
an interlink between human nature and the Trinity. Our
|
|
species becomes universal at the moment that I am able
|
|
to call anybody, at choice, my sister or my father, and
|
|
not merely my biological parent or sibling. The legisla-
|
|
tion and practice of adoption brought about the most
|
|
astonishing revolution which worldwide humanity
|
|
had ever known. One can always opt, more or less eas-
|
|
ily, for a wife or a mistress, a husband or a lover, and
|
|
there you have marriage or one of its sexual equiva-
|
|
lents; but who would have had the boldness to offer his
|
|
mother or his brother in the realm of genital reproduc-
|
|
tion, a domain of necessity? Adoption performs this
|
|
miracle, in adding to the dispositions of Roman law the
|
|
mystery of incarnation.
|
|
"It has taken us a lot of science and a lot of time to
|
|
show humanity's unity, whereas all it needed to con-
|
|
nect it was a little piety."
|
|
"The interchanger provides a key for us to pass
|
|
between two worlds, and we now possess a whole
|
|
bunch or keyboard of them: semiconductor materials,
|
|
for inert matter; in our thousand-and-one advanced
|
|
technologies we have interchangers and microproces-
|
|
sors; among biological beings, coitus, whether her-
|
|
maphroditic or amphibian; in languages, dictionaries
|
|
and translators; in politics, ambassadors; in the sci-
|
|
ences, interfaces and interferences; in the sphere of law
|
|
and religion, adoption..."
|
|
"In short, the cherub. In himself, he embodies inter-
|
|
mediaries."
|
|
"In exchange for my ticket the check-in clerk gives
|
|
me my boarding card, a right of passage; in the same
|
|
way, Pia, when I arrived you gave me the key to my
|
|
hotel room, a place of transition... the key to my car is
|
|
another filter of the same kind.
|
|
"Thus one can construct a general message-bearing
|
|
system, by creating connections no longer simply bet-
|
|
ween static points, which is what the simple messen-
|
|
ger-angel does, but between networks."
|
|
"So, in terms of classification this represents a
|
|
higher level. As an aircraft with both wings and feet,
|
|
the cherub not only assembles individuals, but con-
|
|
nects great crowds, vast populations that are already
|
|
linked internally among themselves, species or families
|
|
of linkages."
|
|
"We only have to look around us to observe the
|
|
cherubim. A cohort of cherubim is to be found in the air-
|
|
port, which is an interchange in its own right, and a mul-
|
|
tiple key to other worlds. It treats it, it mobilizes it. Every
|
|
interchanger permits one to change between spaces, lev-
|
|
els and orders which may be heterogeneous among
|
|
themselves, and to construct a oneness of the universe
|
|
while at the same time maintaining local differences."
|
|
"It assists, finally, in the fulfilment of justice. The
|
|
sowing of several networks with interchangers enables
|
|
one to distribute and equalize flows in many locations.
|
|
Each one has its share of them, and all transmit it in its
|
|
entirety. Their position and their good functioning is a
|
|
necessary condition for a global equilibrium which
|
|
could tend towards equity."
|
|
"So how does it come about that our global New-
|
|
town produces a global vertical disequilibrium, such
|
|
ferocious injustice, seeing that it has message systems
|
|
that are swarming with interchangers, and which
|
|
170
|
|
|
|
1221
|
|
As an interchanger or means of
|
|
union, the erect penis could be
|
|
sen, undifferentiatedly, as an
|
|
organ of both the man and the
|
|
woman, according to whether the
|
|
word ordereste
|
|
(appropriately named) genitive, or
|
|
the subjective, by reference to
|
|
where derrot. onto
|
|
objective, by reference to its
|
|
intention. The vagina, by the same
|
|
token, as a melting-pot or a co-
|
|
ordinating conjunction, belongs
|
|
Cunt to the witnotone
|
|
man. scored to whether the
|
|
possessive is used in the sense of
|
|
ownership, or of an acquisition, of
|
|
a nature, or of a gift. An exchange.
|
|
then: the one who thinks they are
|
|
giving is in fact receiving, and the
|
|
one who thinks they are taking, is
|
|
giving... A positive spiral, a helix.
|
|
mutually and unceasingly seif.
|
|
feeding, which raises lovers to
|
|
heights that are sheer to the point
|
|
of vertigo.
|
|
A bas-relief from one of the
|
|
eighty temples of Khajuraho,
|
|
ancient religious capital of
|
|
Bundelkhand, Madhys Pradesh,
|
|
India.
|
|
|
|
CHERUBIM
|
|
should therefore permit both equilibrium and justice?
|
|
"Here I think one has to talk about fallen angels!"
|
|
"Is it possible that angelology—a word so ugly that
|
|
Angélique would have none of it-expresses the phi-
|
|
losophy of a universe in birth?"
|
|
"This is why we see these strange-bodied monsters
|
|
everywhere."
|
|
"Long live going on holiday by plane! Long live
|
|
guides and teachers! My fathers and mothers! Long live
|
|
chimerae!"
|
|
Pantope bursts out laughing: "The first builders of
|
|
aircraft called their art aviation, after the Latin word for
|
|
bird, because they believed that they would fly by flap-
|
|
ping their wings. Now the term no longer makes sense,
|
|
because an aircraft's fusilage looks more like the body
|
|
of a large fish, with wings that look more like fins.
|
|
"So, flying in the face of general usage, so to speak,
|
|
how about calling it 'pisciation' instead?"
|
|
It we are to believe that cherubim
|
|
got their name from the winged
|
|
bulls that guarded Assyrio-
|
|
Babylonian palaces and temples,
|
|
then it becomes entirely natural
|
|
testimony of God's promise, of the
|
|
pact between Yahweh and the
|
|
Hebrew people. Beings with
|
|
double bodies guarantee the
|
|
convention between those two
|
|
partners.
|
|
The Ark of the Covenant.
|
|
Ninth-century mosak in the apse
|
|
wood, should be guarding and
|
|
preserving (beneath the
|
|
Tabernacie, and then within the
|
|
Holy of Holies) the Ark of the
|
|
Covenant, since this block box (arca
|
|
"we Cotto
|
|
Carolingian church built by
|
|
Theodulf (c. 750-821) at
|
|
Germigny-des-Pres,
|
|
|
|
The love of cherubim transforms
|
|
the worst method consists in
|
|
battles and killings: like cheap sex,
|
|
valend theon toe
|
|
smtagonist come to resemble each
|
|
other. Love or hate? Is the beast
|
|
nat tormento which
|
|
dangerous or pitiable? What's the
|
|
difference between the archangel's
|
|
arm and the deagonix given that
|
|
they're both wielding weapons? Or
|
|
between the saint's spurs and the
|
|
monster's pointed beak? Between
|
|
ANGELS AND BEASTS
|
|
horns of the bull that he's
|
|
fighting? Do the scales which are
|
|
attached to the archangel's armor
|
|
and his wooden cross help in
|
|
deciding? Do the archangel, and
|
|
the Emerie win nish
|
|
spangled costume, tum into the
|
|
animals which they are killing?
|
|
Lieferince), St Michael Slaying the
|
|
Dragon. Musée du Petit-Palais,
|
|
Avignon, France.
|
|
Matador at the point of mulets,
|
|
"Chimera is the name of an animal that has two
|
|
arts of its body crossed in an X:'
|
|
ia comes back equally learnedly:
|
|
"Do you mean that in the case of cherubim, they
|
|
want to be angels but they're also beasts?"
|
|
antope puts on a funny voice
|
|
Do you mind if we have an end to these four
|
|
footed angels with their braying and squawking?"
|
|
Pia looks askance and observes:
|
|
"At least we might try to understand what all that
|
|
means."
|
|
He says, in a reference back to childhood:
|
|
쯔
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
"That the Beast becomes the Beauty, for example?"
|
|
And she, venturing into politics:
|
|
"The reverse-that power plummets from the
|
|
heights to end up in a court of law."
|
|
"So here we are at last, at the fall of the angels!"
|
|
"And their atonement. If mystics take up debauch-
|
|
ery, then Don Juan becomes a monk, as they say."
|
|
Pantope, mockingly:
|
|
"Of whom are perversion and conversion the twin
|
|
breasts?"
|
|
Pia cautions him and begins again:
|
|
"A movement of inversion, rather, and, we might
|
|
say, a tilting of a curious set of scales: there are people
|
|
who move from a very low point to reach the heights of
|
|
glory, but then they go beyond it, and finish by coming
|
|
out on the other side and plunging into ignominy. Have
|
|
they walked along the beam of a set of scales, and gone
|
|
beyond the pivot point? Is it that, having passed the
|
|
high point of ascent, now they come tumbling down?
|
|
Does the same force that raised them up now bring
|
|
them toppling down?"
|
|
*The image of justice appears to be tottering; are we
|
|
entering a realm of injustice?"
|
|
"Not necessarily. But let's describe the mecha-
|
|
nism."
|
|
He, remaining in the field of physics:
|
|
"Icebergs have a habit of suddenly turning upside
|
|
down. However, they are melting all the time: the sea
|
|
and the air create the two pans of the scales!"
|
|
She, in rather more societal terms:
|
|
"Ibelieve the Romans used to say that it was a short
|
|
step between the Capitol, the lofty heights from which
|
|
the emperors ruled the people, and the Tarpeian rock
|
|
from which convicted prisoners were hurled? A person
|
|
The right hand pan of the scales
|
|
is raised, to elevate the elect, wrae
|
|
the anger's lett hand seems to
|
|
weigh down on the pan of
|
|
damnation. On the side of
|
|
hand in greeting, whereas Eve is
|
|
positioned lower, on the side of
|
|
sin, in supplication. Neither St
|
|
Michael, despite the dozens of eyes
|
|
studding his wings, nor the
|
|
painter, nor anybody else is
|
|
surprised that the scales - the very
|
|
image of justice always tip in
|
|
favor of the right side, as is
|
|
required by our lanquaces, which
|
|
speak, unjustly, of diritto, droit,
|
|
Recht, ngnt. what would a nestory
|
|
fairness require? That the beam of
|
|
the balance be redcessed! That it is
|
|
set 'right again? But it ist
|
|
(c. 1400-64), St Michael Weighing
|
|
Sout, detail from the Palptych of
|
|
the Last Judgement. c. 1443-6
|
|
Hotel-Dieu, Beaune, France.
|
|
176
|
|
|
|
ANGELS AND BEASTS
|
|
In this picture the ocean is calm
|
|
and windless, and reflects a
|
|
symmetrical image which expresses
|
|
the constant condition of reversal
|
|
of these vast lumos of frozen
|
|
water, wren are worriest mo
|
|
in more clement latitudes. Then
|
|
tre lower hait a faned up, the
|
|
upper half cast down to disappear
|
|
beneath the waters. This cycle is
|
|
never ending, for both men and
|
|
things.
|
|
A flouting icebera, north of
|
|
Greenland, during the arctic night.
|
|
can be at the height of their glory one day and face the
|
|
worst of deaths the next, while another who has suf-
|
|
fered as a victim for a lifetime may suddenly find him-
|
|
self coming out on top.
|
|
"It's a short step from power to a fall, and right at
|
|
the midpoint this path has a point where everything
|
|
overturns, like a set of scales tipping over. Out on one
|
|
beam he rules, and on the other he dies. But it's still the
|
|
same set of scales!"
|
|
"You're talking of men, not angels."
|
|
"Of our fellow human beings, who seem not to
|
|
want to stay that way!"
|
|
"Of us, of course, but also of things: a sovereign
|
|
remedy may suddenly turn out to be a drug or a lethal
|
|
poison, without having particularly changed its make-
|
|
up. A given noise might send us to sleep one day but
|
|
wake us up on another. Or it is suddenly discovered
|
|
that a parasite which everyone thought was deadly,
|
|
dangerous or harmful, turns out to be beneficial. Com-
|
|
fort devours and bitterness delights."
|
|
She shifts from pharmaceuticals to health care:
|
|
"A person's health can be driven off course by eat-
|
|
ing too much, and then recovered by eating less; con-
|
|
versely, it can be lost through poverty, and restored by
|
|
sufficiency, as long as it stops short of over-abundance,
|
|
which would send it back off course again.
|
|
"This is the mechanism of inequality in our world:
|
|
on the one hand we have the wretched of the earth,
|
|
exhausting themselves in the effort of getting enough to
|
|
eat, and on the other hand we have the rich going on
|
|
starvation diets... And we have millionaires going
|
|
around dressing like bums and the so-called 'caviar
|
|
Left, which dominates, despises, parasites off and
|
|
betrays the people."
|
|
"Let us step boldly on: the solid block of a floating
|
|
iceberg sits in water, and presents a resistance to wind.
|
|
At the interface the conditions suddenly change, and
|
|
the whole thing turns topsy-turvy."
|
|
"As every child knows, the faster a top spins, the
|
|
better it stays upright."
|
|
"And now generalize: this interminable list of
|
|
reversible responses suggests that we are dealing with
|
|
one single class of questions."
|
|
"Governed by one constant rule of reversal. In the
|
|
bodies of angels and cherubim, and of all intermediary
|
|
professions, one might say that there exists something
|
|
like a swinging pendulum, a reversible metronome."
|
|
"Far from making a system fragile, this is what sta-
|
|
bilizes it. Every moment of organization that goes
|
|
beyond the naïve simplicity of a heavy, homogeneous
|
|
mass (like a sandbag sitting on the ground) has pockets
|
|
179
|
|
|
|
in which laws, by reversing themselves, far from decon-
|
|
structing the whole, actually contribute to its consolida-
|
|
tion."
|
|
"The 'no' is not opposed to the 'yes', but collabo-
|
|
rates with it in order to construct a system that is more
|
|
refined. One example among many: far from killing
|
|
mathematics, the ancient Greeks discovered the limit-
|
|
less sea of irrational numbers when they discovered the
|
|
contradiction arising in odd and even numbers. The
|
|
edifice of geometry was built from the fact of carrying
|
|
in oneself this metronome, this pitching and rolling, the
|
|
amplitude of which guarantees the stability of boats, all
|
|
the better if they're actually rolling from side to side."
|
|
"One also sees this in societies: Louis XIV had his
|
|
power of absolute kingship from God. In the name of
|
|
When Hercules fought the
|
|
Nemean lion with a view to killing
|
|
already concealed a man-god like
|
|
wire Anone the dine he
|
|
donned the lion's skin, when his
|
|
enemies sought to do battle with
|
|
him, were they attempting to
|
|
purge the world of a monster?
|
|
149
|
|
Does the hero in combat become
|
|
one with the wild animal? Animal
|
|
or god? Take your pick.
|
|
Dressed in a lion skin,
|
|
Hercules brandishes his club,
|
|
Corinthian vase.
|
|
Muste du Louvre,
|
|
Paris, France.
|
|
|
|
ANGELSANDBEASTS
|
|
this divine right, he ruled the subjects of his kingdom
|
|
arbitrarily. There was a bishop by name of Bossuet. He
|
|
used to thunder forth in severe and admonitory ser-
|
|
mons, in the presence of the king. The king would bow
|
|
his head before this thundering diatribe, and at the end
|
|
of the sermon he would admit that he was not all that
|
|
he might be. The royal rule becomes absolute and uni-
|
|
versal by means of its passage through the local hell of
|
|
its opposite, namely Louis's humility before the priest
|
|
officiating at the altar."
|
|
"A pleasing confirmation that he would find no
|
|
obstacle before him! Is it the case that the only true 'yes'
|
|
demands, somewhere, the existence of a 'no' to stimu-
|
|
late it, in the same way that the discord of the seventh in
|
|
a chord is what makes the chord's resolution all the
|
|
more enjoyable?"
|
|
"Both the physical and the human world contain
|
|
more spinning-tops than sedentary heaps of stones!
|
|
"As if a general equilibrium governed the smaller
|
|
ones spread far and wide."
|
|
"The 'yes' may imply a tragedy; Mary's devoted
|
|
acceptance of the Annunciation delivered by the angel
|
|
put her own life in danger: she would have risked being
|
|
stoned to death if Joseph had decided to accuse her of
|
|
adultery.."
|
|
"I hadn't thought of this danger of death occurring
|
|
before life was born."
|
|
"Would you like to see an angel become an animal?
|
|
When a long and hard-fought bullfight draws to its
|
|
conclusion, the toreador begins to become indistin-
|
|
guishable from his prey; consummate art requires a
|
|
fusion between the hero in his light-spangled cloth-
|
|
ing-the angel-and the black pelt of mortal forces rep-
|
|
resented by the beast. At that moment all you see is one
|
|
single living being, with hoofs of horn and shoulders of
|
|
gold: that's how the cherubim of antiquity were born.
|
|
"The vision of the prophet Ezekiel and the statues
|
|
of ancient divinities, half-man and half-bull, echo this
|
|
ritual rapprochement, in which people celebrate, with
|
|
cheers of admiration and cries of anguish, the memory
|
|
of that far-off day when human sacrifice eventually
|
|
gave way to animal sacrifice. What they are shouting is:
|
|
Which of the two in the middle of the arena will die?'
|
|
Will it be the angel or the beast? That's how our gods
|
|
were born. A man becomes a god if he is able to kill the
|
|
beast, but only on condition that it in turn has the
|
|
capacity to kill him: you see how this set of scales
|
|
works.
|
|
"Now for a different image. I can still remember a
|
|
picture in a book I had as a girl. It showed the demi-god
|
|
Hercules, wearing the shaggy pelt of the Nemean lion
|
|
which he had just killed. Is it Hercules hiding in there,
|
|
or was he in fact becoming the beast? Whoever chooses
|
|
to fight him might find it hard to decide: is he man or
|
|
beast? And whom had this skin concealed earlier, when
|
|
Hercules was victorious and took it for himself....
|
|
Again, was it man or beast?
|
|
"When he meets the hydra, the boar and the bull,
|
|
three encounters in all of which the outcome was
|
|
equally uncertain, nobody knows who's going to win—
|
|
the man or the beast. Who's going to kill and who's
|
|
going to be sacrificed, the animal or the angel sent to
|
|
cleanse the world of evil? The fact that he wraps himself
|
|
in the lion's tawny pelt shows, precisely, the undecid-
|
|
ability of the outcome of the fight.…. and of the muleta
|
|
passes and the final decision to recibir, when, in one
|
|
action, the bull's horns and the bullfighter's sword
|
|
thrust at each other, simultaneously, seeking the weak
|
|
|
|
The scales settle in equilibrium. in
|
|
the madle, with ho arm caboing
|
|
in the pool, Love plays, without
|
|
jealousy. He erases all frontiers,
|
|
even the most solid; those which
|
|
Tiban (Tizano Vecellio)
|
|
(1488/9-1576). Sacred and Profane
|
|
Love, before 1515. Borghese
|
|
Gallery, Rome, Italy.
|
|
points of each other's anatomy .. and once again we
|
|
have the law of the wavering balance..!
|
|
"... which is where we get the emotionality-so
|
|
like the emotion of war-which every week brings mil-
|
|
lions of people out to watch group sporting events
|
|
between the teams of opposing towns and nations.
|
|
Which of the teams-the chimera with its red and blue
|
|
shirts-will be the one to go down, in the event?
|
|
"Suspense. are you aware that at its roots the word
|
|
'suspense' relates to the Latin for 'weigh' or balance'?"
|
|
"Encore!"
|
|
"In his lion's pelt, Hercules, the hero or demi-god,
|
|
the angel and beast, the violent sacrificer and purger on
|
|
his travels of various monsters whose violence had
|
|
been infesting the world, becomes, all of a sudden, one
|
|
of those self-same monsters, when, wearing the tunic
|
|
given to him by Deianira and steeped in the blood
|
|
of the centaur Nessus (half-man and half-quadruped),
|
|
he is burned at the summit of Mount Oeta, as much by
|
|
the poisoned tunic as by the sacrificial pyre."
|
|
"He is a demi-god because his nature is simultane-
|
|
ously human and divine?"
|
|
"Or simultaneously angelic and animal!"
|
|
"Both sacrificer and sacrificed. Indistinguishably.
|
|
Dead in either event."
|
|
Pia smoothes down her skirt and asks:
|
|
"And what about us humans, weren't we once
|
|
dressed in animal skins, just to make people believe
|
|
that man is a lion or a wolf for man….. and so that we
|
|
could kill more assuredly those whom we dressed up in
|
|
this animal appearance?"
|
|
"If you want to kill your dog, say that it's got rabies;
|
|
then if you want to kill your neighbor, say that he's a
|
|
dog; throw the skin of some animal around his shoul-
|
|
ders."
|
|
"So that's the origins of our clothing: a lure for mur-
|
|
der….."
|
|
Patting her hair into position, she says:
|
|
"... or a cosmetic with a divine charm. I love you,
|
|
|
|
my angel: and the angel shows its feathers and the
|
|
transparent robe covering its diaphanous body."
|
|
"When Spinoza writes that man is a god for man,
|
|
he is describing how our loves and enthusiasms are
|
|
conditioned by the strange belief that one's beloved no
|
|
longer belongs to the human species, but to a divine
|
|
family. That is how false gods are born, of alliance and
|
|
hatred, of fine words and carnage: because when.
|
|
Hobbes writes that man is a wolf for man, he authorizes
|
|
us, by that token, to savage our fellow men, who
|
|
become classified as animals and bestial!"
|
|
"Thus Spinoza and Hobbes are saying the same
|
|
thing."
|
|
"But in Pascal the two phrases become immediately
|
|
contrary, because they express two identical but oppo-
|
|
site perspectives. Lack, the animal, equals excess, the
|
|
Angel-both of which are measured by the beam of a
|
|
set of scales which is wavering."
|
|
"Inasmuch as we waver, we never have choice. We
|
|
switch endlessly between admiration and censure. In
|
|
the language of approval or contempt we stamp our fel-
|
|
low men as either angels or animals.
|
|
"Herein lie the origins of the sacred: to sacrifice
|
|
means to kill, put to death, by hatred and violence, and
|
|
also to render sacred, sacralize, honor and adore.
|
|
Slaughter and deify. There you have the outcome of this
|
|
law of perpetual reversal, there you have the mecha-
|
|
nism for fabricating gods."
|
|
"Gold medal, president, Nobel prize winner, front
|
|
page news... or the humble ranks of the invisible. And,
|
|
as usual, we make ourselves of the same metal as the
|
|
others."
|
|
"How long will it be before we realize that we are all
|
|
just men? If that's all you are, what a great thing it is no
|
|
longer having to kill yourself.... But can I love you,
|
|
when this machine for fabricating gods comes to a halt?"
|
|
"Who will help me then?"
|
|
"You remember this morning, when we were talking
|
|
about translators, intermediaries and announcers, and
|
|
쓰
|
|
|
|
ANGELS AND BEASTS
|
|
The four metamorphoses of the
|
|
Words of the Gospel hover around
|
|
Christ in his glory: the eagle
|
|
(aquila) - St John; the bull
|
|
(vitulo)-St luke; the young man
|
|
(omost matthew, and tinalh
|
|
the lion (leo)-St Mark. And each
|
|
ter tom wire the coner ound
|
|
the oval of a kind of eye: synoptic?
|
|
Whether men or beasts, all four
|
|
extend their wings lixe angeis.
|
|
Christ in Glory, San Isidoro
|
|
the vibration, the switching between appearing and
|
|
disappearing...? We also discussed doubles, apropos
|
|
of guardian angels...
|
|
"We have just identified the global terms of the law
|
|
of reversal: it is that this reversal operates at the very
|
|
roots of religion."
|
|
"But we also see it functioning in nature, and in
|
|
society!"
|
|
"Why should it not? Are you scared of general
|
|
rules? Have we just discovered why it was that, in talk-
|
|
ing of angels, we had a wonderful paradigm for talking
|
|
about men and things?"
|
|
"Certain schemas stay with us."
|
|
The good tidings close the age of sacrifice and block the
|
|
machine for manufacturing gods. As Jacques put it,
|
|
Hermes dies.
|
|
Then, having become divine and verbal, flesh
|
|
remains never-endingly flesh. It shines, serenely, and
|
|
illuminates the night of the spirit, being at once both
|
|
subject and object. The scales are at rest; a horizontality
|
|
of the beam of the balance; justice.
|
|
No difference separates gods from men.
|
|
changels
|
|
from animals, profane love from sacre
|
|
ly from
|
|
soul, beauty from the beast, prayer fri
|
|
*s from
|
|
high mystique. We are at last men for:
|
|
nd of
|
|
the reign of angels sounds with the bis!
|
|
Tessiah,
|
|
who makes flesh divine and incar
|
|
ence
|
|
encompasses everything, in its urine. ing
|
|
Neither angel nor beast: just sir.
|
|
She quotes:
|
|
And before the throne there was a St videos t
|
|
nto
|
|
crystal: and in the midst of the thror
|
|
throne, were four beasts full of eyes hear and 2taa
|
|
And the first beast was like a line wind thor sure f host
|
|
like a calf, and the third beast sands step as a sor
|
|
fourth beast was like a flying eagic.
|
|
And the four beasts had at
|
|
him: and they were full of eyest
|
|
Silent for a moment, Pantop
|
|
"You see these creatures
|
|
mals-the lion, the calf and IN.
|
|
they are borne on six wins
|
|
seraphim of tradition. An. in
|
|
man's face. They combine all nature
|
|
Ireneus of Lyons brillianti;
|
|
lists, and from that day on, this is
|
|
shown them. It adds the
|
|
beings. Inasmuch as it is afr
|
|
angelic, flesh is the language of the divin:
|
|
They look at each other, as swing themestes, neid
|
|
for the first time, flashing with light behind invest
|
|
clothes....
|
|
|
|
Susseely tilting to the vertical
|
|
remocrats ole or muste
|
|
place the angels of Newtown on a
|
|
pinnacle, ereven thousand meters
|
|
up in the sir, esting a mest during FALSE GODS
|
|
thousand kilometers. As they settle
|
|
down to oldest soun
|
|
uncomfortably, they may fall into a
|
|
discussion of human rights, and
|
|
may even be traveling for
|
|
humanitarian reasons. Meanwhile,
|
|
down below, the vast majority of
|
|
their peers inhabit a world of
|
|
destitution where they are barely
|
|
able to scratch together even the
|
|
Polytheism is what explains this
|
|
distortion between our ideas and
|
|
sctuai reality, between gods and
|
|
T'd like you to show me your unjust machine for
|
|
nanufacturing gods, Pia-working, life-size, in front of
|
|
ne, now....'
|
|
"Pantope, just take a close look at these two
|
|
queues— assuming they don't make you too ashamed
|
|
to look. Compare the one on the right-tourists from
|
|
Berlin, Boston and London, setting off for some island
|
|
in the sun-with the other one on the left - emigrants
|
|
from Africa and Asia, traveling in search of work."
|
|
The poor and the rich...."
|
|
"No. The bourgeoisie and the proletariat are actu-
|
|
ally very similar, and always have been. This was as
|
|
true of serfs and aristocracy in medieval times as it was
|
|
of slaves and freemen in classical times."
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
A correction to the tos Angeles
|
|
chapter, the angels who soar in the
|
|
upper reaches, and who drink
|
|
complex pharmaceutical potions
|
|
designed to keep death at bay, are
|
|
today transformed into false gods,
|
|
addicted to the Olympic banquet,
|
|
in other words to an orgy of drugs
|
|
sno obesky, snoons mytrolesy
|
|
provides a neat description of our
|
|
current lifestyles.
|
|
A freso by Giulio Romano
|
|
(1492-1546), The Meal of the
|
|
Olympian Gods, 1525-35. Palazzo
|
|
del Te, Mantua, Italy. The Latin
|
|
subtitle of this work is hardly
|
|
apposite. Neither the ancient gods
|
|
nor today's rich people do physical
|
|
work, so neither their leisure nor
|
|
their perpetual meals actually go
|
|
lowe cherison
|
|
"Do you really think so?"
|
|
"How far back in history would we have to search
|
|
to find an inequality as shameful as the one that sepa-
|
|
rates these two queues? They are beyond mutual com-
|
|
parability— not only in the fact that one side is wearing
|
|
clothes from the best tailor, while the other wears old
|
|
clothes in tatters; not only by their respective states of
|
|
health, weight and bodily condition: on the one hand,
|
|
faces that are suntanned, on the other faces that are dis-
|
|
figured by visible diseases; not only in their respective
|
|
ages and life expectancies, their culture, technology, sci-
|
|
ence, physical well-being and clearsightedness; not
|
|
only by the fact that one half leads solitary, bachelor
|
|
lives and the other half lives in tribal communities.."
|
|
"It's a class difference. The bourgeoisie and the pro-
|
|
letariat!"
|
|
"No, I tell you...! No, simply by reason of one sin-
|
|
gle factor which has been constant throughout history,
|
|
and which makes us close neighbors with apes and
|
|
other social animals: hierarchy, which has remained
|
|
unvarying throughout all ages and cultures, in forms
|
|
that have been more or less hypocritical, with aristoc-
|
|
racy remaining the sole form of government..."
|
|
"It's a political difference: serfs and nobles, slaves
|
|
and free men!"
|
|
"No..! Basically it's a question of heaven and hell."
|
|
"Your Dantean world order again!"
|
|
"According to statistics issued by reliable sources,
|
|
Oldtown that great metropolis which is proliferating,
|
|
chaotic, corrupt, dirty, sick, ragged, skeletal, anemic,
|
|
and full of starving, corpselike babies-still regularly
|
|
contributes to the upward mobility of Newtown, a very
|
|
large amount of money, labor power, raw materials and
|
|
human flesh. All this is supplied to regions which are
|
|
190
|
|
|
|
FALSE GODS
|
|
rich, overfed, science-based, sterile and empty (trou-
|
|
bled by neither microbes nor children), ethical and tech-
|
|
nological, assured of (and protected by) creature com-
|
|
forts, heating, cheap food, pharmaceuticals, medical
|
|
care, the atomic bomb, morality and democracy, and
|
|
absorbed with the threat of the unions, a rose-tinted
|
|
press, and every kind of drug.
|
|
"In
|
|
return-employing highly sophisticated
|
|
mechanisms such as its army, its big business, its
|
|
finance and its science-Newtown maintains the
|
|
implacable course which decides what individual or
|
|
what group will tomorrow join those who will dine on
|
|
board an aircraft at thirty thousand feet, and who will
|
|
take pills in order to help them to sleep, or not to have
|
|
children. These are the beings who will be preserved
|
|
for an old age confined to bed in some old people's
|
|
homes. And what country or individual-me, per-
|
|
haps, before to long, or maybe us will be consigned
|
|
to join the vast numbers of those who have been sen-
|
|
tenced to death by need and want, condemned by
|
|
industry and finance, by technology and science-the
|
|
inhabitants of that hell or Oldtown whose death
|
|
throes permit the occasional one or two to make it up
|
|
into a heaven that is lonely and aseptic, where over-fat
|
|
people take pills to help them slim, and to speak at
|
|
length in important debates.
|
|
"Now tell me, how are we to explain this appalling
|
|
inequality, which is becoming increasingly acute as the
|
|
years go by?"
|
|
"By history and social classes, by politics and eco-
|
|
nomics, by hierarchy..."
|
|
"By religion!"
|
|
"No!"
|
|
"Newtown, for all its social advances, seems to
|
|
have forgotten that you get nothing for free, and that its
|
|
progress is paid for by corresponding backwardnesses
|
|
elsewhere. Now, in order to get the measure of these
|
|
backwardnesses and regressions at the world-wide
|
|
level, monotheism proposes a (moral) viewpoint and
|
|
gives a (strange) result, both of which are clear and
|
|
overpowering.
|
|
"And here it is: Newtown lives in a regime that is
|
|
polytheistic."
|
|
"For you to be right, Pia, you would have to be able to
|
|
demonstrate that there exist two worlds: a world of
|
|
gods, and a separate world of mortals."
|
|
"Can't you see them here in front of you? Or does
|
|
shame prevent you from seeing?"
|
|
But who on earth are these gods, today?
|
|
"In the old days, the immortals only bothered about
|
|
men—who were anyway condemned to an early
|
|
death-in order to hand down cruel orders or to lecture
|
|
them on morality. Armed with Zeus's atomic thunder-
|
|
bolts, they sat round their tables, laughing and drinking
|
|
pharmaceutical liquors of immortality, and entertained
|
|
themselves with complex love affairs, in mountain
|
|
hideaways, defended by the power of fire and sepa-
|
|
rated from mortals who, for their part, were deemed to
|
|
live a life of implacable necessity.... Do you recognize
|
|
these Olympian figures?
|
|
"It's remarkable-the old pagan myths describe to
|
|
perfection our own desultory state and our absence of
|
|
history: as we were describing this morning, the end of
|
|
adventures and the loss of time."
|
|
"We have our science and technical progress ahead
|
|
of us, on the credit side, and ancient myths, behind us,
|
|
on the debit side— is it the case that they converge in
|
|
|
|
some kind of balance, to enable us to understand our
|
|
present state?"
|
|
"Do we always understand what we do? Why is it
|
|
that we feel obliged to sit, every evening, half-mori-
|
|
bund and slumped in front of our televisions? Why is it
|
|
that we cheerfully accept the fact that thousands of
|
|
women and children are killed annually on our roads,
|
|
or that millions of inhabitants of Oldtown die of
|
|
poverty every year....? Do we perceive the obscure fac-
|
|
tor that links these habits?"
|
|
"How can one be a westerner?"
|
|
"By a return to paganism. Here you have us, mind-
|
|
lessly worshipping, in silence, every evening after sup-
|
|
per, a wooden object which holds pride of place in our
|
|
homes. We revere it in the same way that our ancestors
|
|
worshipped their hearth gods. We pray at its feet for
|
|
several hours a day, and its body emits flashes of light,
|
|
eliciting dread and pity in the same way as a statue of
|
|
some antique god. We could compare our attitude,
|
|
prostrate before this domestic object, to the daily rites of
|
|
the ancients who every day went down on their knees
|
|
to pray to their household gods. That would give us a
|
|
better understanding of the life of enslavement that we
|
|
live, and of the identity of these unheeding gods of
|
|
whom we have become the humble, silent, unconscious
|
|
servants...
|
|
"And who are these gods? They are us ourselves,
|
|
dominated, in our narcissistic representations, by the
|
|
champions of a mythology which ties politics and
|
|
wealth to sport and spectacle. On our roads we yield to
|
|
the cruel divinities of economics and finance, and to
|
|
weekly human sacrifices, particularly
|
|
numerous
|
|
among the young, and particularly common on week-
|
|
ends and holidays; inhuman rites descended from the
|
|
Evening prayers, kneeling before
|
|
the statue of a Cyclops, a divinity
|
|
whose single, square eye, shining
|
|
with images of war, hypnotizes,
|
|
command, dior tils on
|
|
with indignation, terror and pity.
|
|
Once the the tien wurs that th
|
|
lived in our houses;
|
|
nowadays it is we who live
|
|
|
|
FALSE
|
|
G O D S.
|
|
ancient festivals, in which our ancestors regularly killed
|
|
their children in order to satisfy obligations which they
|
|
imposed on themselves and which we no longer under-
|
|
stand.
|
|
"So there you have some of our mechanisms for
|
|
manufacturing gods."
|
|
"How can one be a god?"
|
|
"In the Middle Ages, when Christians were in the
|
|
majority, they would castigate those who refused to
|
|
accept the revealed truths as pagans. We can turn the
|
|
word on its head: since they are now in a minority,
|
|
Christian believers have become the non-believers of
|
|
today's world, because they believe neither in the gods
|
|
of politics and the spectacle, nor in the reigning gods of
|
|
money and economics, technology and science, nor in
|
|
this power and glory to which we ruthlessly sacrifice
|
|
more than a hundred human lives every week. People
|
|
often say that if God exists, He is not here.
|
|
"There you have the most lucid criticism of our
|
|
times!
|
|
"Do you believe in the gods whose bodies appears
|
|
every day in the papers or on TV?"
|
|
"How can one be an unbeliever?"
|
|
"Read the day's news in theological terms. Some
|
|
years ago, during the Gulf War, I was going round ask-
|
|
ing people who were getting high on that media-hyped
|
|
conflict the name of the country on which we were tip-
|
|
ping our millions of tons of bombs. It was Eden, or Par-
|
|
adise, situated, just as the Book of Genesis describes it,
|
|
between the Euphrates and the Tigris. We were destroy-
|
|
ing our origins, without realizing it.
|
|
"Who was the angel with the sword of fire? What
|
|
was he doing?
|
|
"Religion pushes us, at bottom, in the same way
|
|
that slow-moving tectonic plates shift countries and
|
|
continents. Its laws stay with us."
|
|
However, Pantope goes on the offensive:
|
|
"If you can't show me immortals among us, then
|
|
the differences remain the same as they were in his-
|
|
tory."
|
|
"No, it never lived this separation between mortals
|
|
and gods. Ever since it found that it had no more fron-
|
|
tiers left to conquer, Newtown has proposed to its
|
|
members a project of prolonging their lives, by post-
|
|
poning their deaths for as long as possible. It promises
|
|
immortality: that's what they're all working towards
|
|
now.
|
|
"In private estates, insulated from barking dogs
|
|
and the shouts of children, a few rich old people, whose
|
|
life expectancy is steadily being increased by medical
|
|
science, vegetate, and shake and get ali confused. It's a
|
|
fair bet that they're suffering from Parkinson's disease,
|
|
which means that they will have to be supported in
|
|
their senility, or from Alzheimer's sickness, which will
|
|
turn them into human vegetables. All this thanks to a
|
|
medical profession whose efforts are dedicated to keep-
|
|
ing useless derelicts alive, at huge expense.... Is it
|
|
really right to pour money into this project and to leave
|
|
millions of young people and poor people to die of
|
|
hunger and starvation all over the world?"
|
|
"Three cheers for old people's homes!"
|
|
"Having devoured space, Newtown
|
|
has now
|
|
launched off into time. In an imbecilic vacuum of aims
|
|
and values, it has given us two new slogans: 'Death to
|
|
death!'-there you have a return to the eternal time of
|
|
the immortals; and Death to everyone else!' —in other
|
|
words, to the Mortals, who in this case are people from
|
|
the Third and Fourth Worlds, who are defined precisely
|
|
193
|
|
|
|
FALSEGODS
|
|
The angeis of Newtown hare
|
|
become gods. They eat well and
|
|
sufficiently, they lie a life of
|
|
deanliness, luxury and security,
|
|
Comedy the the raerous
|
|
power of nuclear wespons, and
|
|
sure of living to a ripe old age...
|
|
Iney feel tree to expert mortdis
|
|
from the earthly paradise and to
|
|
abandon them, naked, and
|
|
Sonoose town and
|
|
hunger. A paradigm of
|
|
nosm sno eve expened from
|
|
Paradise: the Mirror of Human
|
|
Salvation, fifteenth-century
|
|
Flemish miniature. Musée Condé,
|
|
Chantilly, France.
|
|
by the fact of a death which awaits them sooner rather
|
|
than later. Ecce homo."
|
|
"Do I gather that you're not in favor of fundamen-
|
|
talism?"
|
|
"When we question things, we tend to accuse oth-
|
|
ers more often than ourselves, since we believe that our
|
|
lives are modeled on science, reason and law, all things
|
|
of which we are justly proud; except that our democra-
|
|
cies actually far outstrip the worst aristocracies in his-
|
|
tory, when it comes to inhumanity and violence.
|
|
"Just for a once, let's reverse the point of view: what
|
|
is it that we do in order to produce this scale of things?
|
|
"In order to obtain an outside opinion on the ways
|
|
we behave, why don't we conjure up, right here at Paris
|
|
airport, the cultivated travelers who, in an earlier cen-
|
|
tury, came from Iran, and who wrote their Persian Let-
|
|
ters, a humorous, generous and charming book which
|
|
educated earlier generations in the virtues of toler-
|
|
ance…"
|
|
"How can one be an Iranian?"
|
|
"... or maybe a double-bodied cherub like the ones
|
|
we described earlier, an interchanger, a stranger
|
|
endowed with several cultures: only machines that are
|
|
just can get the exact measure of unjust inequity.
|
|
"Perhaps this stranger would ask us the following
|
|
question: are you today becoming the fundamentalists
|
|
of polytheism? Is classical antiquity returning to pos-
|
|
sess you like a ghost of the past? Is your history feeding
|
|
into this mythology-which you love so much that you
|
|
are forever teaching it to your children as a supreme
|
|
model of life-like a river feeds into the sea?
|
|
"There you have the point of view of the non-
|
|
believer, I mean of the believer: he is appalled by our
|
|
regression into paganism."
|
|
"So we've become more fundamentalist than the
|
|
fundamentalists whom we disparage!"
|
|
"Pantope, did you know that in the old days there were
|
|
seventy nations, and a guardian angel for each of
|
|
them?"
|
|
"So did Angels take the place of individual gods of
|
|
nations? People also say that angels are the residue of
|
|
polytheism within modern monotheism."
|
|
"Yes. And nowadays, since our machine for manu-
|
|
facturing gods is still at work in our message-bearing
|
|
systems, we first produce angels, and then, when they
|
|
fall, we make gods. We reverse the process.
|
|
"In the Newtown and Los Angeles, it's true to say
|
|
|
|
that we live and work like angels, as we said this morn-
|
|
ing, but our machines have turned them-in other
|
|
words, us into the false, cruel and indifferent gods of
|
|
ancient paganism."
|
|
"So progress is regressing!"
|
|
"Do you believe in the fall of angels now?"
|
|
They look across at the queues again.
|
|
"Yes... gods and men... immortals and mor-
|
|
tals... Were the differences between us ever so great?"
|
|
Pia consolidates her case:
|
|
"One of the puzzles of human thought ever since
|
|
philosophy began has been the problem of how you
|
|
define man. None of the definitions proposed thus far
|
|
has been sufficiently precise or adequate, and the topic
|
|
"Then the high priest rent his
|
|
blasphemy; what further need
|
|
have we of witnesses? behold, now
|
|
ye have heard his blasphemy.
|
|
What think ye? They answered
|
|
and said, He is guity of death."
|
|
(Matthew 26:65-6)
|
|
"Pilate therefore went forth
|
|
again, and saith unto them
|
|
behol, l bring him torch to you,
|
|
that ye may know that I find
|
|
no tault in him.
|
|
"Then came jesus forth.
|
|
wearing the crown of thorns, and
|
|
the purple robe. And Pilate saith
|
|
unto them. Ecce homo, Bchold
|
|
the man!' (John 19: 4-5)
|
|
Glotto (1265-1337). Christ
|
|
before Calaphas, 1303-9, Freso,
|
|
Arena Chapel, Padua, Italy,
|
|
|
|
FALSE GODS
|
|
has generated a lot of heat: man can't agree about man.
|
|
Perhaps he has difficulty in accepting him as he is. He
|
|
either admires other people as angels, or hates them, as
|
|
beasts."
|
|
"However we don't need ringing declarations, for-
|
|
mal or abstract, for us to be able to recognize him: we
|
|
see somebody step forward-sick, perhaps, suffering.
|
|
maybe disfigured, either by birth or by some accident—
|
|
towards the doctor, the nurse, the passer-by in the
|
|
street, and by the fact of his pain he has the quality of
|
|
being a man. Recognized as such, marked out as such,
|
|
because that death sentence that awaits all of us is likely
|
|
to be brought forward in his case to an earlier hour.
|
|
"Who is this man? I don't know, but here he is.
|
|
Here's the condemned prisoner, about to die at dawn.
|
|
Here, behind him, not even sentenced by our laws, is
|
|
the man whose death will be advanced by nature's
|
|
secret decrees or by the hazards of life's misfortunes.
|
|
He's sick, and he's going to die. Ecce homo.
|
|
"We've never needed grand philosophy to enable
|
|
us to recognize, in the man who's been sentenced to
|
|
death by the power of men (Roman or otherwise), man
|
|
himself. We need no philosophy, either, to recognize the
|
|
man who has been sentenced by a power which is
|
|
beyond us, and which we study every day in order to
|
|
keep it at our measure. Ecce homo.
|
|
"But there's more. Behind the man who is suffering
|
|
only from a curable illness, or from a sterility that can
|
|
be cured in the splendid confines of Newtown, we see
|
|
the myriad peoples of low-life Oldtown, suffering from
|
|
malnutrition, afflicted with every kind of disease,
|
|
caught up in a demographic whirlwind, abandoned by
|
|
us and condemned to death en bloc, while we strive to
|
|
build egotistical moralities and refined ethical concepts.
|
|
The death sentence has been brought forward for them,
|
|
to now. Ecce homo.
|
|
"In this crowd, right here before us, we see man
|
|
himself-humanity-which, in our language, also
|
|
means compassion.
|
|
"No justice without mercy."
|
|
"What about those of us who are less hardy, who are
|
|
stuffed full of drugs, with our protecting science end-
|
|
lessly putting off the day of our death-we who are
|
|
becoming gods? Can we still lay claim to the name of
|
|
men?
|
|
"No mercy without justice; but no justice without
|
|
equality of access."
|
|
쁘
|
|
|
|
A viny of the Third and founth
|
|
Worlds that have been produced
|
|
by the new gods. Thanatocracy or
|
|
the rule of death has beer
|
|
permanently oretent throughou?
|
|
history, but now it has come to
|
|
coninatetworo coner
|
|
conur tenderer
|
|
destruction... contirm men on a
|
|
datly biss in their satus as
|
|
mortals. Now that we need only
|
|
contemple der been notar
|
|
works, what need do we have of
|
|
imagining a hell?
|
|
Bruechel the Elder (c. 1525-69,
|
|
The Thraman of tath.
|
|
Museoc noto mara.on
|
|
|
|
By a juridical logic, we choose to
|
|
depict as devils those who cause us
|
|
suffering and who enjoy such a
|
|
power that they would win a trial
|
|
anainst us from the very moment
|
|
that we publicly brought a plea
|
|
against them.
|
|
Keserve not Turn
|
|
identifying the character on the left.
|
|
But has aryone ever really been
|
|
scarco oi this sirng ceast, as pool
|
|
horned devil with eyes in his bottom
|
|
this victim of our cruel weakness?
|
|
However we have no difficulty in
|
|
exploding H-bomb.
|
|
So who was it who unleashed this
|
|
global conflagration? Science,
|
|
technology, national interests, the
|
|
military, people's subservience...?
|
|
Whose face is hiding behind this
|
|
light? is it worth the effort of trying
|
|
to find out?
|
|
Detail from the Brixen altarpiese,
|
|
Michael Pacher (1483), Neustift,
|
|
Austria. Alte Pinakothek, Munich,
|
|
Germany.
|
|
Atomix bomb exploding, Bikini,
|
|
Pantope asks Pia, uneasily:
|
|
"Do you know how to tell the difference between
|
|
good and bad angels?"
|
|
"Between the light of seraphim and the fires of hell?
|
|
Have you ever felt pain from a fire which burns without
|
|
giving light; have you ever been able to see something
|
|
thanks to the kind of fames which illuminate but do
|
|
not burn?"
|
|
"Couldn't you just speak clearly, without images?"
|
|
*Is it possible to produce clarity without sources of
|
|
fire?"
|
|
"Come on, be bold, talk about the devil!"
|
|
"Forbearing saintliness rarely comes about sponta-
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
neously, unlike grace and beauty, which are given at
|
|
birth; in fact many have only acquired it by wrenching
|
|
themselves heroically free of times and existences that
|
|
were crushed beneath those foul and burdensome
|
|
envies on which small minds live- the thirst for recog-
|
|
nition, power and glory.
|
|
"How are we to rid ourselves of these scourges?
|
|
"That's what I wonder. What can we do with that
|
|
jealous resentment that afflicts a body like a great
|
|
hump, an obese paunch, and which spreads its poison
|
|
to make wrinkles, blotches, spots, and cancers? Jeal-
|
|
ousies manifest themselves in ugly illnesses.
|
|
"How are we to lay aside hatred - the hatred which
|
|
is invisible, transparent, incarnate, always justified, suf-
|
|
ficiently similar to be mistaken for courage and com-
|
|
mitment, and the poisoned draught of the spoken word
|
|
and of ideas? On to what pyre are we to throw this
|
|
transparent enemy of creative work, this obstacle to cre-
|
|
ativity, this opposite of creative goodness?"
|
|
"Your angels pass invisibly. But the devil is very
|
|
visible. Every day. Fantastically present. Which of us
|
|
doesn't feel rancour, unceasingly, within himself,
|
|
directed against himself, or against the world outside of
|
|
himself?"
|
|
"A superhuman hatred flames high among those
|
|
whose written word illuminates and heats, by virtue of
|
|
having found the furnace in which to reduce it to cin-
|
|
ders: so sanctity lights its flash, then maintains it, of this
|
|
inexhaustible combustible; all vilenesses are consumed
|
|
there."
|
|
"I wish that our violences really did burn all this
|
|
detritus. But how, in turn, are we to bum away vio-
|
|
lence, the worst of human evils? In our criminal wars,
|
|
the blood spills and runs like flaming alcohol; it flows
|
|
and spreads to the horizon..... Unspeakable conflagra-
|
|
tions, into which we hurl a thousand people before also
|
|
perishing there ourselves.
|
|
"Do we necessarily have to pass via the medium of
|
|
violence in order to purge ourselves of it, as if, in flesh
|
|
and blood, as our works catch fire, we are transforming
|
|
ourselves into incandescent columns, burning white
|
|
and immobile, breathing, expiring, inspiring, souls at
|
|
last become pure, blazing across our flaming pages, by
|
|
the fact of having thrown into this bad fire the little that
|
|
we possessed, our clothes, our shoes, plus the entirety
|
|
of our poor bodies?
|
|
"The problem is, Pia, in the midst of all these bon-
|
|
fires how are we to distinguish the language of fire, that
|
|
of the Holy Ghost, and differentiate it from the devil's
|
|
fires and the flames of hell?
|
|
"What are we to do with this encumbering hatred,
|
|
God creates the world; hell burns
|
|
men. The reference here may be
|
|
to the divine work of creation and
|
|
to destruction being incapable
|
|
of creation
|
|
From Satan's mouth flares
|
|
the flaming resentment of
|
|
the impotent.
|
|
In order to produce, we have
|
|
to find a way out of this
|
|
flaming torch.
|
|
Paul and Herman de Limbourg,
|
|
Tres Riches Houres du Duc de Berry
|
|
(1113-16), Hell Muste Conde,
|
|
Chantilly, France.
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
given that it has so comprehensively taken possession
|
|
of our flesh? Throwing it into the furnace destroys it,
|
|
without a doubt, but it also fulfils it, gives it its logical
|
|
development. Where are we to put hatred in our works
|
|
of creativity, the flesh of our flesh? You spoke of frozen
|
|
Rthies.o.
|
|
"As a lighted pyre or beacon, saintliness can be seen
|
|
from afar, like a signal at sea, in the fog. On the other
|
|
hand, cold resentment plunders anything it encounters,
|
|
without one being able to see it, because it is concealed
|
|
in transparency and by its lucidity, of which the light-
|
|
bearer-there you have Lucifer-seduces the intellect
|
|
without justice or mercy. Invisible and implacable, it
|
|
extends and spreads, ravages the horizon with its white
|
|
laser, and dominates the world.
|
|
"Are you saying that hatreds that burn in them-
|
|
selves and of themselves are like beacons marking dan-
|
|
gerous places, in the same way that lighthouses warn
|
|
us not to get too close to the rocks?"
|
|
"Also they prevent themselves from invading
|
|
space by consuming themselves in the duration of their
|
|
time. They implode. The pages flame, a body becomes a
|
|
column and burns, consumption fills in a black hole at
|
|
the place where the root of tares destroys itself. And
|
|
there you have a chance to end up in sanctity, or to
|
|
begin a work of creation.
|
|
"Icy hatreds, on the other hand, shoot forth spurt-
|
|
ing flames which explode at a distance and carry war
|
|
throughout the universe. The central core of the fires of
|
|
this hell which encompasses everything— the earth, the
|
|
heavens, history and our miserable lives— is frozen. Icy
|
|
blue, pale, transparent, barely perceptible, there you
|
|
have Satan, the eternal uninvolved prince, washing his
|
|
hands of the blood of the innocents.
|
|
It takes a lot of time, knonledge
|
|
sole god in three persons, in other
|
|
words three religious methods for
|
|
comes one Volches, the ton
|
|
legions of angels range themselves
|
|
in battle formation in the name of
|
|
this god. if you want peace,
|
|
one comes to understand that
|
|
wars, armies, strategies, militias
|
|
juridical framings of violence, do
|
|
in fact protect againat violence
|
|
Welchee corne othel when th
|
|
unleashed without laws. Jupiter:
|
|
law; Quirinus: production; and
|
|
Maes. armies. There you have one
|
|
slogan be translated on to the
|
|
Ridolfo Guariento (2-1378),
|
|
The Heavenly Host. Musco Civico,
|
|
Padua, Italy.
|
|
"When envies are burned to ash, they give power to
|
|
the creative machine. By dint of creating, God becomes
|
|
good, so infinitely good that he could treat himself to a
|
|
long Sunday; by dint of goodness, he creates, endlessly,
|
|
until the Sunday of his holidays; undoubtedly he drew
|
|
the positive energy for his acts by hurling jealousy into
|
|
the fire of hell; on the other hand, the devil sits at the
|
|
center of evil, with a cold head and frozen feet, and con-
|
|
centrating a hatred so frozen that it remains impotent
|
|
and is able to exercise its destructive power only at a
|
|
distance, by means of the flame-throwers of envy. The
|
|
world from which God has been absent since his great
|
|
labor falls under the universal empire of impotence and
|
|
its destructiveness."
|
|
"God constructs, evil destroys."
|
|
"One imagines, the other criticizes. All works of
|
|
construction, which are rare, necessitate legions of
|
|
workers or operators-this is where the good angels
|
|
30%
|
|
|
|
come in; whereas, as powers of this world, the wicked
|
|
give a powerful helping hand to Satan, the proper name
|
|
of the all-powerful public prosecutor, in destroying."
|
|
"All this is rather over my head, but I'm trying to
|
|
understand. In my humble and human experience, !
|
|
know that it is not possible to speak honestly of inven-
|
|
tion in the sciences, or of artistic creation, without this
|
|
everyday morality based in violence, within us and all
|
|
around us."
|
|
"How to suffer the pains of hatred, without the con-
|
|
joined figures of the devil, who is an everyday reality;
|
|
and the angels, who are rare?"
|
|
"Pantope, come on a trip with me. We're going to
|
|
take a look at some angelic statues and horrible
|
|
demons. Come and stand on the square in front of
|
|
Rheims cathedral. Forget that you have read books
|
|
about it and heard lecturers saying how wonderful it is.
|
|
"It is horrible. Horrifying in the original literal sense
|
|
that it makes your hair stand on end: punk hair; a
|
|
squatting monster, poised, crouched on its flying but-
|
|
tresses, a low, triple, wrinkled face, with one huge eye,
|
|
a face capped by a helmet. An insect, some giant batra-
|
|
chian come out of the ancient forests of some immemo-
|
|
|
|
THE DEVIL'S WRATH
|
|
From this page to the next.
|
|
compare two opposing solutions to
|
|
questions of violence: the piercing.
|
|
pointed, jagged, sharp, sacred
|
|
suffering of Gothic art, flaring up
|
|
vertically...
|
|
Exterior of the west face, Notre
|
|
Dame cathedral, Rheims, France.
|
|
rial past. A misshapen griffin, it makes your flesh creep
|
|
because a cumulative horror springs from its stone nee-
|
|
dles, its crests, peaks, points, arrows, teeth, barbs, all
|
|
ready to tear, bite, pierce, hole, slash.... Is this beauty?
|
|
"In my opinion it's full of hatred and to do with
|
|
expulsion-an obsession to exclude, a paranoiac
|
|
defence of its surroundings; exuding, suffering indefi-
|
|
nitely the hideous patience of hatred and of the
|
|
sacred-you recall our massacre earlier on? The epic
|
|
dance of its flames is frozen in a sacrificial horror. The
|
|
Gothic style thus expresses the sacred-the consecra-
|
|
tion of Rheims.
|
|
"Is this a way for Christianity to love its neighbor?"
|
|
"Can we say that the Romanesque style, on the
|
|
other hand, expresses sanctity? Smooth, bare, under-
|
|
stated, rarely grandiose, it is inward-turning, built with
|
|
rounded shapes which are endlessly welcoming."
|
|
"Yes: the saintly says yes where the sacred repeats
|
|
an endless no. It accepts and includes, whereas its
|
|
opposite rejects. The saintly loves, the other hates. In
|
|
the Gothic style the interior has a serene sanctity which
|
|
is the obverse of the sacred which has been expelled to
|
|
the outside."
|
|
"Closer to our own times, at the end of the last century
|
|
the French Gothic school of writers emerged from within
|
|
a period of sanctity to announce the return of the sacred.
|
|
This sacred was the force that devastated the twentieth
|
|
century in total wars, which themselves were preceded
|
|
by an art which returned determinedly to the primitive.
|
|
"This cultural regression appeared as the advance
|
|
guard of the deathly violence of war. Before the last
|
|
war, for example, sculptors began creating monstrous
|
|
gods awakened from archaic times, and it was hardly
|
|
surprising that the demon twins of these divinities were
|
|
to return shortly after, alive and terrifying, in the shape
|
|
of war."
|
|
"The classical age scorned the Gothic, Pia. It tamed
|
|
the pointed barbs, it mastered that mad hatred which
|
|
was later dropped by Romanticism. Speaking of the old
|
|
texts of polytheism, the classical age called them fables,
|
|
to be able to laugh at them, make fun of them and keep
|
|
them at a safe distance; whereas Romanticism accorded
|
|
them the status of myths, in order to oppress our destiny
|
|
with them and oblige us to submit to their necessity. In
|
|
our childhood we learned to believe them as if they
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
were religious texts, believing them far more than did
|
|
the Ancients. We became pagans again, in other words
|
|
tied to the hatred which spills over into the human sac-
|
|
rifices whose violence is so often portrayed in our art."
|
|
"Then we plunged once again into the savage, the
|
|
primitive, the barbarous-I'm speaking of us, of that
|
|
which culture, in us and among us, soothes and calms
|
|
when it works directly, that is to say with sanctity;
|
|
whereas the sacred, to put it briefly, was wandering in
|
|
the streets, out in the road, through space; a roaming
|
|
monstrosity; a lightning return to the archaic of which
|
|
the beginning must date from the storms and assaults
|
|
of Romanticism, and which had as its result the atomic
|
|
flash over Hiroshima."
|
|
"Was it that we were actively seeking our own
|
|
decline, in the way that, with such awareness, genius
|
|
and application, we sought to return to our originating
|
|
myths?"
|
|
"As we are well aware, what you find lurking at the
|
|
origins is always hatred."
|
|
"Violence, murder, wars, atrocities.. death, always
|
|
death.... The diabolical sacred is fulfilled in this
|
|
monotonous repetition, whose only task is that of
|
|
maintaining itself: and from this derives the absence
|
|
of creativity."
|
|
"We assume this violence unceasingly; do we con-
|
|
sume it?"
|
|
"Fire! Resentment flames up; hatred burns, red and
|
|
black, and its flames flare up and dance, reaching up
|
|
from the bottom of the abyss towards that inaccessible
|
|
saintliness. Our works of art and our acts catch fire
|
|
because they consume the sacred much as an engine
|
|
consumes its fuel. The bonfire roars, the machine turns
|
|
.. . And the horizontal, saintly,
|
|
calm, tranquil, protecting
|
|
contemplative gece of
|
|
the Romanesque style.
|
|
A view of the Romanesque
|
|
crypt. Church of Saint-Eutrope,
|
|
Saintes, France.
|
|
over, crazily, but doesn't go anywhere, since it's dedi-
|
|
cated to the perpetual motion of hatred, which recog-
|
|
nizes itself in its own repetition."
|
|
"Let's go back and stand in front of the cathedral! The
|
|
indestructible destruction of a fire which is self-beget-
|
|
ting freezes the flames into barbs of stone: the spikiness
|
|
of the Gothic style appears.
|
|
"Now, it's my belief that our creative energies exist
|
|
in a pairing arrangement which carries us from saintli-
|
|
ness to the sacred, but which can equally well carry us
|
|
from the sacred towards saintliness. While we aspire to
|
|
|
|
the latter, we fall unceasingly into the former; once
|
|
again, here we have the law of reversal!
|
|
"Sometimes, all of a sudden, a great tongue of blind-
|
|
ing fire comes leaping out, directing its flames at love-
|
|
that love which is hidden, discreet, retiring, peaceful, sim-
|
|
ple, silent, well-meaning, isolated, a child in the straw.
|
|
"The light of the hearth attempts to shed light on it
|
|
but makes it impossible for one to perceive him, in his
|
|
dark retreat, as if the fire was creating shadow.
|
|
"Can't it be put out, so that one can see it?"
|
|
"But how would one be able to recognize him with-
|
|
out light?"
|
|
"It is difficult to go forth in saintliness!
|
|
"Hell on Earth displays never-endingly the fasci-
|
|
nating spectacle of hatred: there you have the essence of
|
|
the lack of creativity and the illusion of creativity.
|
|
"You can always recognize hollow works of creativ-
|
|
ity by the subtle scent of human detestation that is
|
|
given off when you read them.
|
|
"But, once again, what are we to do with these aver-
|
|
sions that are as tiresome as weeds that keep on grow-
|
|
ing up again unless you burn them?"
|
|
"Consign them to the fire of hell, to the fire of all
|
|
devils-to the sacred fire, precisely the hearth of an
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
immobile, perpetual motion. History that is repetitive
|
|
and monotonal, static, statue-like, reduced to the eter-
|
|
nal return of the same. Banal, vile, deadly, tragedy
|
|
returning unceasingly, ever-changing but always the
|
|
same. The whole world going through the same
|
|
motions and mimes the same thoughts. The return to
|
|
the primitive implies the immobility of the eternal
|
|
return.
|
|
"A history that is new, young, joyous, improbable,
|
|
childlike and miraculous grows hard and stiff in the
|
|
frozen fires of the Gothic.
|
|
"You will recognize the realm of hatred by the fact
|
|
that creativity there sinks to pusillanimity, envy and
|
|
plagiarism; always the unending critical duplication of
|
|
what has already been done.
|
|
"When artistic creativity again bursts out anew,
|
|
that is the sign that a great goodness has its rare
|
|
chance."
|
|
"So is it the sign that all we need in order to pro-
|
|
duce are saints?"
|
|
Modern art has this fortunate
|
|
aspect, namely that it is hard to
|
|
make out shapes and figures, so
|
|
that here nobody can distinguish
|
|
the demons from the ancels. This i
|
|
just how things are in everyday
|
|
wonderful illustration of reality
|
|
The Rebel Angels Struck Down,
|
|
1889, Musée royal des Beaux-Arts,
|
|
Antwerp, Belgium.
|
|
|
|
Sested upon their thrones.
|
|
powers dominate. But if one
|
|
stigmatizes them in words or
|
|
pictures orie con swirty overturh
|
|
their meaning. Those who are
|
|
able to diffuse these visible
|
|
images sit upon irvisible thrones,
|
|
oho.wmerenein
|
|
transparent power, they
|
|
dominate the former holders of
|
|
certain viuble nowers whd
|
|
thereby become their victims.
|
|
Should we be constantly reversing
|
|
tn encino casioa e POWERS, THRONES
|
|
those who condemn, in the
|
|
cretiy of thit power, m muh AND DOMINIONS
|
|
due for a fall as those whom they
|
|
accuse? In short what difference
|
|
is there between constehning
|
|
powrates dre cone minire
|
|
those who condemn?
|
|
"Angels are unstable," says Pia.
|
|
"Can they fall, from on high?" Pantope asks, laugh-
|
|
Georg schone (18,0-1949).
|
|
Industriebauern, 1920, oil and
|
|
collage on wood. Von der Heydt
|
|
wucunemwodere det matr
|
|
Paul and Herman de Limbeurg,
|
|
lt tw
|
|
Berry (1413-16), The Fall of the
|
|
Rebellious Angels,
|
|
Wakse Conce, Chanblly
|
|
France.
|
|
ingly.
|
|
"I believe so— in fact I know so. You see, more than
|
|
us, they waver between good and evil, because they are
|
|
in a position truly to distinguish good from evil."
|
|
"The frailty of the intelligent."
|
|
"Have you ever had to endure dealing with evil
|
|
people?"
|
|
"I don't know about evil people.... But like most
|
|
of us I've often had to deal with people who are egotis-
|
|
tical, cruel, ruthless and thoroughly unpleasant."
|
|
"Herein lies their drama: at the moment when they
|
|
|
|
Glory is a product of violerce. it
|
|
only one half: a headless crowd,
|
|
down below, of waving hands
|
|
raised in acc amstion of trie
|
|
divinity's lieutenants, a small but
|
|
ferocious sect bearing the weight
|
|
serpents, above which, right at the
|
|
top, shines the unique light of
|
|
lustre and renown.
|
|
inhuman beasts, divinity would fall
|
|
prey to the hands that are seeking
|
|
lowest depths of decadence are
|
|
close neighbors of the peak
|
|
of glory. There you have
|
|
the social machine for fabricating
|
|
(false) gods or fallen
|
|
angels.
|
|
trite Lana (1890-1976).
|
|
first see the light of day, they receive seven price-
|
|
less gifts: intelligence, adaptability, creativity, speed,
|
|
strength, enduring memory and light.... Genius,
|
|
seated upon them. In addition they would require a fine
|
|
degree of detachment in order not to succumb to the
|
|
temptation of looking down upon those less gifted than
|
|
themselves, or of pouncing to seize power, which from
|
|
that moment lies within their grasp."
|
|
"So the good angels are those who do not succumb
|
|
to the temptation of injustice!"
|
|
"But in the opposite case, the bad angels-those
|
|
who occupy space and history-fall. We meet them
|
|
everywhere,
|
|
and we speak unceasingly of them,
|
|
because we suffer from them: exterminating angels!
|
|
"Among the powerful of this world, it is hard to
|
|
identify the inevitable fall of these powerful beings. For
|
|
obvious reasons. How can we see them as fallen, when
|
|
they appear to climb from one triumph to another?"
|
|
"Impossible! You may as well stand on your head
|
|
and declare that all victors are vanquished and that all
|
|
214
|
|
|
|
high mountain peaks have become profound valleys!"
|
|
"And why not? Couldn't we reverse the law of
|
|
gravity and say that a fatal attraction hurls them up to
|
|
the heights?"
|
|
"So should we feel pity for the powerful?"
|
|
"Behind their self-importance they are stamped by
|
|
a frailty that drives them on to still further cruelties."
|
|
"I've noticed that," says Pantope. "They're evil
|
|
because they're intelligent, and intelligent because
|
|
they're evil, and both these things because they're
|
|
weak.
|
|
"They are unjust, and have never tasted the wine of
|
|
strength which foregoes comparisons."
|
|
"Tradition refers to them as Powers, Thrones and
|
|
Dominions: all those who sit at the tops of ladders."
|
|
"Are we to recognize the world's rulers in these
|
|
descriptions, and conclude that the world is thus ruled
|
|
by angels of evil?"
|
|
"By the fact of their fall."
|
|
"The angelic condition of the highly gifted is harder
|
|
to live than that of ordinary men."
|
|
"Certainly. Who can hold out against the instability
|
|
produced by true intelligence? And how many people
|
|
have such an excess of goodness that they are able to
|
|
refuse power, position and dominance?"
|
|
"Almost nobody."
|
|
"And that is the origin of the tumbling fall of in-
|
|
iquity: its fall takes place in the power and glory of
|
|
extermination.
|
|
"Has our thinking really been so corrupted that,
|
|
over thousands of years, we have come to believe that
|
|
angels fall as a result of their love for pretty girls,
|
|
whereas war and murder are held up as heroic and
|
|
strong? Film and television show endless scenes of
|
|
guns and killings. Plenty of killing, not much love.
|
|
"God's true justice requires me to state my belief
|
|
that angels only fall on account of power and glory, and
|
|
thus because of killing; on the other hand, when they
|
|
sup on love they remain angelic.
|
|
"Only humility—a word which, appropriately,
|
|
derives from humus, earth-makes them fly above it.
|
|
These are the beings whom tradition labels sera-
|
|
phim... Burning, suspended in the ether..."
|
|
"For us to imitate these perfect seraphic upliftings,"
|
|
Pantope resumes, dreamily, "inevitably also involves
|
|
descents and eventual falls, as delayed or retarded as
|
|
may be...."
|
|
"Mortal and weighty!"
|
|
"Have you ever ventured on to the slender crest of
|
|
a surfing wave? Have you ever plucked up courage and
|
|
ventured into the curling tunnel of a fearsome roaring
|
|
breaker, poised in fragile equilibrium on a surfboard?
|
|
Have you ever known the calm ecstasy of flying a hang-
|
|
glider four hundred meters above green valleys, in the
|
|
mountains, surrounded by clouds, ice and the white
|
|
villages below you? And, even higher, have you ever
|
|
experienced a descent by parachute seemingly both
|
|
instantaneous and never-ending-towards the woods
|
|
and valleys of a countryside laid out below you, in the
|
|
dense, muffled silence of transparent air that suddenly
|
|
takes over from the noise of the aircraft's engines? Or
|
|
have you known the hissing of the wing of a glider slic-
|
|
ing the air as it flies in the vast silence of space? Or,
|
|
down at ground level, the motionlessness which is as
|
|
eternal as it is instantaneous, at the apex of a jump offa
|
|
trampoline? Have you enjoyed the quivering litheness,
|
|
almost alive, of a windsurfing board as it catches the
|
|
|
|
Skimming along the surf, or in
|
|
the tunnel of a breaking wave,
|
|
the frail, insubstantial surfboard
|
|
follows force lines which permit a
|
|
man to stand upright in a state of
|
|
unstable equilibrium, price to the
|
|
final inevitable fall. In a similar
|
|
way, life glides among the many
|
|
and precarious, it follows invisible
|
|
time-lines, at odds with
|
|
eventual fail into thermic disorder.
|
|
Large or small, every work of art
|
|
consists in being able to grasp a
|
|
good edge of surf and follow it
|
|
through. The light, delicate accord
|
|
the surfing wave enables the surf
|
|
artist to race along and delay the
|
|
final obligatory wipe-out. In each
|
|
of these cases, the achievement,
|
|
the living joy of doing it, holds off
|
|
the moment of final collapse.
|
|
|
|
rhythm between the smail breaking crests of waves and
|
|
the gusting of a fresh breeze?"
|
|
"Such pleasures have no rival-and are outside of
|
|
the injustice brought about by comparison. Bless
|
|
ings upon the woman who reared you!"
|
|
"Engaging in non-confrontational sports gives us a
|
|
fleeting glimpse of the eye studded wings of seraphim in
|
|
their cosfase: ves, it is only the body that enables the soul
|
|
to be understood... Physical courage draus one into an
|
|
innocence whose evistence intelligence, memory and so-
|
|
ence, which are so often evil, do not eten suspert."
|
|
"Are we to conceive the mass, the crowd, the total-
|
|
ity of men in the image of this choppy sea, of this fresh
|
|
brewze, of these eddies and fluxes?"
|
|
|
|
We would unhesitatingly couns
|
|
the following among the band of
|
|
angels: pole-vaulters, high-
|
|
jumpers, goalkeepers diving to
|
|
Catone wiln wreertel eesrechis
|
|
para-gliders, ice-skaters dancing on
|
|
ice, gymnasts on their apparatus
|
|
rugey krom-naves ooing s oiving
|
|
pass... All those who assume the
|
|
form of a flying body. When you
|
|
fiy a hanc-alider, vour
|
|
understanding of how masses of
|
|
air behave enables you to move up
|
|
on rising <olumns, while your
|
|
weightfulness enables you to
|
|
colaroueikor wiet to
|
|
thermic reasons, ascent can easily
|
|
become as perilous as a fall.
|
|
A hang-glider in flight. Val
|
|
d'Aosta, laly.
|
|
"Is this what vou are saying to politicians and ora-
|
|
tors?"
|
|
"Via the medium of words, I dance the thought-
|
|
without-language which flesh experiences with inten-
|
|
sity in its inner darkness, suddenly illuminated,
|
|
uplifted and warmed by a melancholic desire..."
|
|
"... When a true insight sees the light of day, or
|
|
when a phrase sounds and floats, broad, musical, intel-
|
|
ligent and calm, they resemble somehow those slow
|
|
descents following on the ascents which soar on the
|
|
counter-currents of fragile turbulences."
|
|
"Tell me about your falling, Pantope," Pia asks,
|
|
breathlessly.
|
|
"Am I falling? Yes: when I am on board a land vehi-
|
|
de or an aircraft and the floor quivers and shakes. Yes:
|
|
when a huge wave suddenly sweeps up and pushes my
|
|
boat over on to its beam ends, with its deck rising to the
|
|
vertical. Yes: when a gust of wind catches me by surprise
|
|
and almost knocks me flying. Yes: when an earthquake
|
|
above seven on the Richter scale makes the earth move.
|
|
Yes: when a piece of terrain has been pushed up skyward
|
|
more than four thousand meters to form a narrow moun-
|
|
tain crest on which I am too scared to stand upright.
|
|
"Sailing in ships, the open sea, wind, earthquakes,
|
|
towering peaks, all these are moments of the command-
|
|
ment: 'Rise up and walk. Moments from before birth."
|
|
"Do it again, Pantope.!"
|
|
"Am I falling? Yes: when I see a woman's face and
|
|
body. Yes: when a new idea takes form in my mind. Yes:
|
|
in the presence of the Annunciation as painted by Fra
|
|
Angelico. Yes: when the final hour comes close enough
|
|
for one to be able to touch it.."
|
|
"... when the grace of eternal glory shines forth,
|
|
housed clumsily in my fragile, moving, trembling body
|
|
of stretched skin and transfixed bones, which wavers
|
|
unceasingly in the wind."
|
|
"The idol worshippers of olden times believed that
|
|
the gods lived at the tops of mountains. Since you
|
|
spend your time up there, you can testify to having
|
|
found no gods there, even around the crosses which
|
|
sometimes dot their peaks."
|
|
|
|
AND
|
|
" I would slip awav and ther
|
|
procure a boat, in which I would
|
|
row out to the middle of the lake
|
|
Mire the wenwalm. there
|
|
would stretch out in the bottom of
|
|
the boat, gazing at the sky and
|
|
Mowing mysell to ant stowy on
|
|
the water, sometimes for several
|
|
hours at a time, sunk into a
|
|
reveries, which, while they had no
|
|
particular abiding object, were
|
|
nons more to myxor
|
|
than the sweetest things I had ever
|
|
experienced in what people choose
|
|
to call the olessures of life.
|
|
Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Les
|
|
Reveries du promeneur soitaire
|
|
Cinquième promenade Reveries of
|
|
the Soltary Waiker. Fifth Walk
|
|
Collected works, (Peace, Paris
|
|
Evariste Vital Lumina's
|
|
(1822-90), Les tnerves de
|
|
Jumieges. Musce des beaux-ans,
|
|
Roven, france
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
"You also find the ruins of temples and statues there,
|
|
but only when major obstacles don't stand in the way of
|
|
access to them: idols only look after the foothills."
|
|
"Since all divinity is absent from that rarefied
|
|
space, as from all other spaces, given that we have
|
|
experienced this huge loss of enchantment, why do you
|
|
go up there?" Pia asks. "What is there to discover up
|
|
there? Angels?"
|
|
Pantope attempts an answer:
|
|
"Jean-Jacques Rousseau once told the story of how
|
|
he had lain down in the bottom of a boat and allowed
|
|
himself to drift with the current and dream. This was on
|
|
the Bielersee in Switzerland. With his body at water-
|
|
level, in a passive state of semi-sleep, he says that he felt
|
|
truly alive."
|
|
"Can we say that, from the point of view of
|
|
excelling, life is asleep when it abandons itself to low
|
|
places? My profession is quite the contrary: we recog-
|
|
nize sicknesses when people take to their bed. How can
|
|
we assimilate life to a clinic?"
|
|
"When you find yourself in a wooden coffin like
|
|
that, carried off by an irreversible river, with no possi-
|
|
bility of control of your circumstance, would you agree
|
|
that what you are experiencing is a little bit of death?"
|
|
"I suppose so. Now, if you don't have the opportu-
|
|
nity, at some point in your life, of enjoying relaxation—
|
|
the dreaming, dozy warmth of a body that is com-
|
|
pletely relaxed and turned in on itself, allowing itself to
|
|
be carried away by the mortal river of passive time-
|
|
then can you feel yourself truly alive?"
|
|
"Yes, look: when you are standing upright, high on
|
|
some mountain, you are alive; when you are on a dizzy-
|
|
ingly slender mountain ridge, at the top of two sheer
|
|
walls falling away invisibly beneath you, struggling
|
|
against your weightiness and against losing your bal-
|
|
ance, you are alive; when you are in that state of alert.
|
|
ness which produces a minute and unbearable atten-
|
|
tion to detail, burned by the sun, frozen to the marrow,
|
|
buffeted by gusts of wind, soaked in a sweat whose
|
|
cold fervor gives a foretaste of the experience of death,
|
|
and you are exhausted after having exerted yourself
|
|
beyond the limits of the possible, then you are alive."
|
|
"Bawling, chilled, torn from my first breath—that's
|
|
how I came out of my mother's belly."
|
|
"Yes. Arriving at a mountain top is in many ways
|
|
like a birth."
|
|
"Emerging from a window, from a threshold or
|
|
from a mountain peak, the living being trembles like a
|
|
spurting, incandescent flame, yes, as a beginning. Flar-
|
|
ing upwards, but not lying flat!"
|
|
"Imagine mountain ridges during a storm-they're
|
|
like flaring gas lamps! They burn! And when I am up
|
|
there, standing upright, shivering on that roof of the
|
|
world, I become like a vertical flaming torch."
|
|
"Thanks to you, in future when I look at some jaggy
|
|
mountainous horizon, I will imagine that I see fiery
|
|
seraphim there, in serried ranks, guarding the moun-
|
|
tains, all quivering, like the statues of archangels that
|
|
decorate old cathedrals. They make them flame with
|
|
life. And that is how our guardian angel, standing close
|
|
by us, holds high the torch...."
|
|
"Have you ever seen young people climbing up
|
|
from the valley on Midsummer's Day, up on to the sur-
|
|
rounding mountain peaks, and setting them aglow
|
|
with lighted bonfires? At that moment the whole
|
|
mountain becomes angelic!
|
|
"What a mistake it is always to depict angels in the
|
|
image of men; in fact they come closer to the beauty of
|
|
222
|
|
|
|
To understand people's
|
|
predilection for setting up statues
|
|
and crosses at the tops of
|
|
mountains, it is enough to have
|
|
tert the costatic pleasure of tinay
|
|
Attened me nicon too aner
|
|
a long dimb.
|
|
Your entire body is reborn: it
|
|
cultime war. the the
|
|
being trembles like a spurting
|
|
flame, incandescent, beginning:
|
|
monumer towar
|
|
that fire. The photograph shows
|
|
March 3, 1984, close to the village
|
|
of Kilaues on the island of Kaual,
|
|
north west of Hawat. On that day
|
|
the crimson fountain reacheda
|
|
height of over three hundred
|
|
the world! This fine popular custom consolidates a
|
|
vision that is sensual, corporeal and ordinary—in other
|
|
words, divine.
|
|
"The world is continually bursting into flames,
|
|
bursting into life."
|
|
"You go for life and risk on mountain tops;
|
|
Rousseau goes for a sleepy life down at water-level....
|
|
Life and fire in the universe."
|
|
"Maybe most particularly in places of transition
|
|
and passage, where messages increase in number and
|
|
intensity: on a tidal foreshore, where waters licks the
|
|
earth and winds caress it; in deep submarine crevasses,
|
|
where fiery lava mixes with the salt water of the sea and
|
|
|
|
The possibility of falling is what
|
|
gives meaning to every scent of
|
|
uplifting; the miraculous beauty of
|
|
the world reveals itself at the end
|
|
certain, is what renders life-in its
|
|
improbability- ecstatic. The peaks
|
|
of mountains are sometimes very
|
|
narrowne make i hard to hone
|
|
upright for long.
|
|
solidifies; in high places and upper regions of sun and
|
|
cold, where the Earth thrusts delicate peaks up into the
|
|
realm of light airy turbulences."
|
|
"Places of passage, and spaces of interchange: a
|
|
passing-place of angels?"
|
|
Astonished, he falls silent for a moment.
|
|
"Up there, more than in any other space or at any
|
|
other time, you feel yourself being born, being alive."
|
|
Now, if God exists, he is life, wind and fire.... The
|
|
essence of life, the creator, the beginning, the apex, the
|
|
summit, the excellence and the love of life."
|
|
Pia cuts in:
|
|
"So God lives on the tops of mountains, with you?"
|
|
Pantope hesitates for a long while. Then, with tears
|
|
in his eyes, he says, at dictating speed, as if spelling out
|
|
his last will and testament:
|
|
"Cemeteries are too ugly. I don't want to be buried.
|
|
I prefer to be cremated, in one last flame, after these my
|
|
few years of incandescence. I ask that my ashes be cast
|
|
to the winds, in one final fall. People may pray, if they
|
|
are believers; they may meditate, if they wish; they may
|
|
also read inspirational texts. But at the end I wish to be
|
|
|
|
The miracle of something that
|
|
has been intelligently and
|
|
its beauty, and soars abore the
|
|
flat horizontal, ugly and
|
|
preoctable kingdom ruled by
|
|
Powers, Thrones and Dominions
|
|
Statue of the archangel Michael
|
|
at the top of the church spire at
|
|
Mont-Salint-Michel, Manche,
|
|
France.
|
|
consigned to fire and air and scattered through the uni-
|
|
verse. Thank you.
|
|
"I would like my friend the mountain guide, who
|
|
can be found unfailingly in the main bar of Abriès,
|
|
Hautes-Alpes, to carry the urn containing my ashes in
|
|
his faded backpack. For this service he is to be paid
|
|
three times the normal rate for the ascent, plus any
|
|
beers which he may care to drink on his departure and
|
|
his return-to my health, or to another's, it matters not.
|
|
I would like him to take a partner with him on this
|
|
climb-the woman who was always there to accom-
|
|
pany us and make up our climbing party. The afore-
|
|
mentioned pot of dust, so fine and imponderable, will
|
|
be carried on the back of the first and in front of the
|
|
third, and so will take the place that I always had
|
|
between them, surrounded and protected by them. For
|
|
once my two guardian angels won't be bothered by my
|
|
heavy weight. Thank you.
|
|
"1 ask that they then climb to the Pelvoux refuge in
|
|
the Massif des crins, where they will spend the first
|
|
night. My heirs are to provide them with food and lodg-
|
|
ing there, without, however, accompanying them. The
|
|
21S
|
|
|
|
The mountaineer defies the
|
|
danger of falling and at the same
|
|
time plays with it, since it is a real
|
|
possibility at atty given moment. In
|
|
the same way, works of human
|
|
creativity, such as music and
|
|
poetry, maintain a distance from
|
|
venturing perilously close to it; on
|
|
dee went tall then into tutt
|
|
also keeps its distance from mortal
|
|
equilibrium, until the point of the
|
|
tinal tall. the death from which the
|
|
rare uplifts in life draw their
|
|
improbable meaning. Some
|
|
mountains, such as the one
|
|
pictured here, became climbable at
|
|
the price of the lives of the first
|
|
people wins reached their summits
|
|
rocks raised high on the tombs of
|
|
their victims. The mountain-climber
|
|
The north face and the Hornli
|
|
ridge of Mont Cervin (4,478 me-
|
|
ters) photographed in winter,
|
|
at down; the snow and ke burn
|
|
with the light
|
|
following day, before daybreak, I ask that they make
|
|
their way to the Coolidge gully and climb it during the
|
|
minutes preceding the dawn.
|
|
"When they arrive at the midpoint, they are to
|
|
belay their ropes. Then they are to throw my remains to
|
|
the wind, to the snow and ice and rock, as if I were
|
|
falling or flying, finally becoming angelic. I would ask
|
|
them to say Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine, in remem-
|
|
brance of those selfsame words that came to my lips on
|
|
the thrice-blessed day when I first experienced the
|
|
sweet divine benediction of the mountain, in the first
|
|
mauve light of dawn, at the moment when the ice is
|
|
tinged with pink, when my second (and true) youth
|
|
began, very late, in this truly primordial mountain
|
|
landscape. Thank you.
|
|
"As to whether they will then come back down, or
|
|
will proceed to the summit via the Pelissier glacier and
|
|
the Ailefroide traverse, this will depend on the weather,
|
|
on their mood at the time, and on any obligations which
|
|
they may have elsewhere. In any event, I hope they will
|
|
enjoy the tranquillity and silence of the place to the full,
|
|
just as I loved the Earth which was given to me, and as
|
|
I also loved the man and the woman who had given it
|
|
to me. Thank you."
|
|
|
|
A orradoxical set of verler, the
|
|
ewuen ton tohtrous
|
|
this book, places the whole
|
|
configuration all together on one
|
|
sor ton thetoote.nothhe
|
|
protagonists' right), all collected,
|
|
dlassified, weighed, neatly sorted
|
|
into angels and demons, heaven
|
|
and hell, the saved up above and
|
|
the damned down below, a static
|
|
sno unmoving universe, all duly
|
|
rewarded and punished, ordered
|
|
for all infinity.... And on the
|
|
other page, bodies mingied in love.
|
|
But, alas, this balance again creates
|
|
a separation, and thus contradicts
|
|
fselr. troctent now sre we to get
|
|
to the point of doing without this
|
|
dalanice? How to forget
|
|
juegtment grren that law remains
|
|
necessary. In singing our vitality.
|
|
Heaven and Hell, fifteenth
|
|
Cnitya doloe veoel
|
|
Pinacoteca Nazionale, Bologna,
|
|
Italy.
|
|
Auguste Rodin (1850-1917).
|
|
The Kiss, 1898, marble. Musée
|
|
Rodin, Paris, France.
|
|
MERCY
|
|
"Do you believe in t'
|
|
"You mean 'when a!":
|
|
jokes.
|
|
"When I imagine
|
|
wrath, and the huge croreis eauane
|
|
think that on one side
|
|
arated and divided, and on dad
|
|
"1 beg your parde:.
|
|
"It's easy. Look-ca üic
|
|
both together; good and erit th.
|
|
the true and the false; the inp wod ta
|
|
and madness; and, avove ail, *n:g.:
|
|
all the (rare) winners and ait the lown
|
|
other side, intermixes, living and stenr, fot cer
|
|
239
|
|
|
|
blended things. On one side separations, on the other
|
|
composites.
|
|
"I like your idea of a separation of separations-
|
|
sounds like a contradiction in terms to me!" says Pan-
|
|
tope, laughing.
|
|
"Fusion is what gives lovers their home, and the
|
|
party which divides gives exclusives their razor! A
|
|
judgement which judges only the judges, and leaves
|
|
aside the undecided, marks the end of a course, like an
|
|
outer limiting point; one could call that 'the last!"
|
|
"Your musical pause is as paradoxical as the Big
|
|
Bang which gives the lie to the laws of physics!"
|
|
"When one loves intermixings of things, a court of
|
|
law becomes nothing more than a meeting-place of all
|
|
philosophies... of philosophies that are other!"
|
|
"On the other side?"
|
|
"I hesitate to say it, since love does not exclude!"
|
|
She found herself uncomfortably caught in her own
|
|
trap.
|
|
"Pia, do you know what the word 'absolute' means?"
|
|
"Perfect, completed, omnipotent, independent,
|
|
unreserved, without contradiction," she replies, in one
|
|
breath.
|
|
"Literally speaking, 'absolute' means non-soluble:
|
|
that which cannot be dissolved."
|
|
"Not in water, vinegar, or any of the acids?"
|
|
"An irreducible diamond!"
|
|
"If we no longer have courts of law, and thus things
|
|
are 'absolute', all we are left with is absolution."
|
|
"And that's where mercy comes in! But there still
|
|
remains exclusion."
|
|
"Love excludes exclusion."
|
|
"A contradiction in terms, just like your Last Judge-
|
|
ment!"
|
|
Pia:
|
|
"Your logic is destroying my morality."
|
|
Pantope, proudly:
|
|
"Since morality is relative and subjective, how can
|
|
it stand up to reason? Consider objective science: dri-
|
|
ven by the stimulus of competition, it reaches heights of
|
|
excellence and gives of its best. There's nothing to beat
|
|
it."
|
|
Pia replies, wearily:
|
|
"So I suppose that's where our duty lies: promote
|
|
excellence at every available opportunity. Live by fol-
|
|
lowing the best government. Put our children on the
|
|
path of the most refined studies under the best teachers.
|
|
Ensure value for money. Build a career plan as fast as
|
|
possible. Earn the highest wages. Go for promotion.
|
|
Marry the most beautiful woman. Wear the best
|
|
clothes. Write the book that's going to win the prize.
|
|
Score the most goals. Fortius, altius, citius and to hell
|
|
|
|
Philosophy has always added o
|
|
supplementary action to the Last
|
|
time of history on to eternity. the
|
|
Theodio renteres the perspective
|
|
of this picture, and Leibniz, its
|
|
author, there sets about a trial of
|
|
God himself, accusing him, In his
|
|
turn, for the problem of evil. Kant
|
|
later, was to set up a court of
|
|
reason. And the age of suspicion-
|
|
our dool, was numerte
|
|
intentions behind the best of
|
|
sentiments.... When will we ever
|
|
courte the cho on that
|
|
debt which philosophy makes us
|
|
pay? At orce, as we wish.
|
|
Giovanni di Pacio (1399-1482),
|
|
The Last Judgement. Pinacoteca
|
|
Nazionale, Slena, Italy.
|
|
with losers... That's the direction that we're taking in
|
|
everything we do, whether private or public, and there
|
|
you have the primordial separation.
|
|
"And while we're at it, why don't we also practise
|
|
eugenics so as to create the strongest and most beautiful
|
|
sons and daughters, and thereby, in the end, produce
|
|
the best of all possible worlds? What hell is presup-
|
|
posed and produced by the promotion of this par-
|
|
adise?"
|
|
"Who doesn't dream of it?"
|
|
"For example: do we live in a democracy?"
|
|
"Yes. And proud of it."
|
|
"No. We've never lived in a democracy. As a subtle
|
|
form of advertising, political philosophy poses the
|
|
question: what is the best form of government? And i
|
|
inswers secretly: the government of the best
|
|
The question is, have we ever actually emergeo
|
|
from feudalism, the rule of the so-called best, who
|
|
according to the circumstances of time and need, might
|
|
be the strong and powerful, the well-born, the rich or
|
|
the intelligent, the cultured or the learned, or university
|
|
graduates controlling knowledge, law and the media?
|
|
"In Newtown, those who have the right to be
|
|
fined equal are the rich and affluent, the wealthy, th
|
|
so are in good health, clean and well-bred. In o!
|
|
words, the strong. Compare them with the discarded
|
|
peoples of the Third and Fourth Worlds, a vast starving
|
|
쁘
|
|
|
|
Here we see the Latin motto of
|
|
the Olympic Games: Citius, Altius,
|
|
Stronger'-translated into Russian
|
|
on the other side of the stadium,
|
|
at the opening of the inosow
|
|
Games in 1S80.
|
|
The stakes of nationalities for
|
|
domination of the world, financial
|
|
pressures, drugs, the obligation for
|
|
the wretched of the earth to
|
|
excape at any price from the
|
|
grinding misery of their
|
|
exotences... cemper the
|
|
enthusiasm which these media-
|
|
overkill world gatherings inspire,
|
|
justly, towards the authentic
|
|
Choles eroduce ties
|
|
champions, and the human
|
|
examples which they give. It
|
|
of the stadium come from the
|
|
poorest groups and the least
|
|
favored: justice, revenge, or a
|
|
|
|
MERCY
|
|
Handscene, sturdy, confident, a
|
|
naive imbecile: Tarzan, standing
|
|
head and shoulders abore his
|
|
companion Jane. One of the most
|
|
popular and stupid heroes of our
|
|
times, Tarzan always wins,
|
|
conquers, triumphs, carries the day.
|
|
and is the embodiment of glory
|
|
and the supremary of strength. To
|
|
the ideals of Social Carwinism he
|
|
brings the additional element of
|
|
machismo. With their modest
|
|
loincloths and their very proper air,
|
|
how many hours would they
|
|
actually survive in a real jungle?
|
|
Maureen O'Sullivan and Johany
|
|
Weissmuller in The Triunph of
|
|
Tarzan (1943),
|
|
mass which is hugely in the majority on our planet. Has
|
|
our history ever known a more ferocious aristocracy?"
|
|
"Are you denying progress?"
|
|
"Newtown works unceasingly to improve the life
|
|
of its best citizens. That's what it calls progress. How-
|
|
ever these advances are at the expense of Oldtown, and
|
|
at the expense of the rest of humanity. There's nothing
|
|
for free; everything has to be paid for."
|
|
"At least we have to submit ourselves to the laws of
|
|
evolution."
|
|
"Do we really know what is meant by this strange
|
|
and aristocratic comparative of the strongest, the best
|
|
adapted, or the ones who proliferate? A person who is
|
|
a mass of muscles may lose a wrestling match, for lack
|
|
of skill and technique; another person, for all his intelli-
|
|
gence, may be incapable of reproducing himself! An
|
|
excellent quality may turn out to be detrimental in
|
|
terms of the complex totality of a person's personality.
|
|
Thus the strongest become suddenly fragile; this phe-
|
|
nomenon is observable among champions and the
|
|
highly gifted.
|
|
"Earlier generations used to fantasize about this
|
|
kind of thing-from Nietzsche to Chekhov, from
|
|
Tarzan to the Nazis. Since that period, Social Darwin-
|
|
ism has been running rampant, sometimes overtly and
|
|
sometimes covertly, and more current in our usages
|
|
than we believe not to mention more hypocritically,
|
|
since we also claim to live in a democracy!"
|
|
"No way out of a law like that."
|
|
"And Pantope, what if plants and animals are con-
|
|
demned to the consequences of Darwinian law, in other
|
|
words to a struggle to the death from which they are
|
|
nowadays dying by entire species? What if we only
|
|
become men on the express condition of freeing our-
|
|
selves from that law?
|
|
"Unlike all your thinkers, writers, historians, politi-
|
|
cians and film stars, I, for my part, believe that man is
|
|
born of weakness, of frailty, of a gentle ironical attitude
|
|
to victory; I believe that the glory achieved by people
|
|
who dominate others transforms them into brute ani-
|
|
mals; I believe that Thrones crumble and Powers fall.
|
|
"From where do we originate? From Tarzan or from
|
|
the Pietà? From the man who wins because he's the
|
|
strongest, and is able to reproduce himself and adapt
|
|
|
|
AFTERNOON
|
|
better than others, or from the woman who watches
|
|
over her dead child, holding him on her knees and
|
|
weeping for him? She has lost: will she now have no
|
|
descendants? But just look and count them now!
|
|
"All civilizations which, like ours, are obsessed
|
|
with victory come what may, are headed inexorably for
|
|
their own annihilation. Like a species about to become
|
|
extinct."
|
|
"All the big empires died of that."
|
|
"But how can a woman without a child have
|
|
descendants?"
|
|
"I've already told you: by adoption. We choose our
|
|
fathers, our mothers, our sisters... who in turn choose
|
|
their sons, their daughters and their brothers. An
|
|
incredible juridical and theological novelty, which
|
|
destroys the destiny-laden and tragic hazards of
|
|
genealogy and of physical begetting (as well as criminal
|
|
and incestual relationships within the family, and the
|
|
rudimentary structures of kinship, clan, ethnic group
|
|
and culture) by giving every person freedom in the
|
|
choice of his parents, his children and his relations.
|
|
Anybody-outside of my family, my ethnic group and
|
|
my culture, outside of any blood relationship or histor-
|
|
ical relationship can become my mother, my sister or
|
|
my daughter. From there love comes. The love
|
|
expressed in adoption thus cancels out Darwinism-
|
|
both biological and social-and the vengeful wars
|
|
which history has cause to remember, and all the theo-
|
|
ries which fed your youth."
|
|
"But what about the big empires?"
|
|
"Why did the big animals-the mammoths and
|
|
dinosaurs-disappear? Why is it that today the noble
|
|
species- eagles, elephants and whales-are all threat-
|
|
They have lost Now dead, the
|
|
Word becomes dumb; the Word
|
|
returns to the flesh; the flesh
|
|
reuterolen stethe moth
|
|
herself, grief-stricken and
|
|
unmoving, returns to the mass of
|
|
marble, to matter, to the maternal
|
|
matrix from which we all derive, a
|
|
oral motorcee involuton o
|
|
which the inverse shows our
|
|
genealogy, evolutive and
|
|
deployed: all children of the Earth,
|
|
one me ner or ones
|
|
of our fragile languages.
|
|
al children a. weakness
|
|
Pieta, 1458. St Peter's Basilika,
|
|
Vatican City.
|
|
2A5
|
|
|
|
The word misericarella comes from
|
|
waken terestor could
|
|
and miser--woeful. It evoices the
|
|
state of the archangels. The face of
|
|
this archangel doorkeeper reveals
|
|
precisely that sense of heartfelt pity.
|
|
poor characters, so deferential,
|
|
obsequious, and stamped by a life
|
|
servility. They present themselves
|
|
naked, as if they had come out of
|
|
Rogier van der Weyden
|
|
(c. 1400-64), detail from the
|
|
The Just Entering Paradise,
|
|
c. 1443-6. Hôtel-Dieu, Beaune,
|
|
France.
|
|
|
|
MERCY
|
|
ened with extinction? Why did whole empires col-
|
|
lapse-Egypt, Babylon, Greece and Rome? Why did
|
|
whole eras come to an end... all exhausted by their
|
|
claim to a monopoly on excellence, power and glory ...
|
|
all killed by what we call Darwin's laws?
|
|
"The only ones to be saved from death, whether
|
|
animal or collective, are the ones able to free themselves
|
|
from this law: their name is 'human'. If we look at
|
|
human beings more closely, we find the animal. When
|
|
we scan the range of arrogant conquerors and the myr-
|
|
iad hordes of the conquered, when we look at the hier-
|
|
archies and gradings of Nobel prize winners, tennis
|
|
players, best-selling authors and superstar singers, it's
|
|
easy to identify the elements of vegetable nature or
|
|
primitive animality that remain in us,
|
|
"In other words, we are men inasmuch and in so far
|
|
as we are not the best, or because we manage to pursue
|
|
another aim rather than that of being the best. Classifi-
|
|
cation and competition concern us a little. That's why
|
|
eugenics, for example, is inhuman: if you set yourself a
|
|
project of designing the best of men, you'll end up cre-
|
|
ating a sick monkey or a weedy lettuce.
|
|
"A miracle! Suddenly there appears among us a
|
|
poor person, a simple person, and we follow him,
|
|
because we love him: that's why, secretly, we are neither
|
|
gods perched on high nor lowly beasts, in other words,
|
|
conscious subjects. "If intelligence refines, the exacer-
|
|
bated search for the highest summit leads us to resemble
|
|
those animals who continually fight each other to see
|
|
who is the strongest. Human means kind, in the sense of
|
|
goodness, never in the sense of exemplary success; of
|
|
the first in the class or in the farmyard."
|
|
"Idle dreams.... What would we ever achieve
|
|
were it not for the spur of competition?"
|
|
"Works of creativity! Any work that is dedicated
|
|
exclusively to the pursuit of excellence demands a great
|
|
amount of humility in relation to its raw material, as
|
|
also towards experts and others: it is only in this way
|
|
that the author achieves the incomparable, the inim-
|
|
itable, free from mimicry. Never in any other way."
|
|
"However, exclusion returns with the rigorous
|
|
requirements of science, of logic, of all well-conducted
|
|
reasoning: ali require the rule of the excluded third.
|
|
How, without such a principle, are people to be stopped
|
|
from saying, claiming, undertaking anything at all?
|
|
Which accounts for your confusion just now, when you
|
|
wanted to exclude exclusion."
|
|
"Certainly. But over the course of time we have sep-
|
|
arated the corporeal and social rigor exercised over
|
|
men from that which we manipulate over forms. The
|
|
one gets rid of the other!"
|
|
"I doubt it."
|
|
"Maybe keep the requirement of exclusivity in rela-
|
|
tion to works of creativity; but let your relationships
|
|
with men be governed by mercy!"
|
|
"What do you do about justice?"
|
|
"There can be no justice-which is exclusive, with-
|
|
out mercy—which is inclusive."
|
|
"It's impossible to think those contradictions
|
|
together!'
|
|
"On the contrary, it is entirely possible. Take science
|
|
for example. Rigorous, faithful to reality, up until now
|
|
beneficial to society, founded on the search for non-con-
|
|
tradictory truth, and thus on the excluded third.. But
|
|
now, like everything around us, it finds itself drawn
|
|
into ferocious competition, always intent on getting
|
|
there first, bent on victory and condemned to glory, a
|
|
second form of the exclusion of others.
|
|
200
|
|
|
|
APTERNOON
|
|
"The obsessive quest for truth pursues progress,
|
|
while its competitional precondition implies regres-
|
|
sion. Rushing ahead like this exposes research to mis-
|
|
takes en route, to be sure, but more particularly to fun-
|
|
damental options and orientations which may prove
|
|
fatal in the long term.
|
|
"Is it not possible to separate the two motors, the
|
|
two terms and the two aspirations? Search for truth
|
|
without downgrading the other? What's so impossible
|
|
about that as an ideal?
|
|
"We can never be too cautious on paths that are as
|
|
complex as this. We can never be too aware of our
|
|
fragility."
|
|
"What does weakness protect us from?"
|
|
"God himself is infinitely weak; we live in his
|
|
image. Mercy protects us from the pestilence of compe-
|
|
tition: all culture comes from there."
|
|
"I understand nothing of your mercy or misericor-
|
|
dia. In Latin, the last half of the word comes from the
|
|
heart and not from the brain: are you wanting to manu-
|
|
facture stupid people?"
|
|
"With its pursuit of victory and glory, the rational-
|
|
ity of science and economics necessarily leaves out the
|
|
emotions of the heart. Obsessed with accounting and
|
|
exactitude, piloted by one-time top-of-the-class pupils,
|
|
Newtown, as an organically rational entity, is singu-
|
|
larly lacking in love, as were the European and classical
|
|
ages of aristocratic reason. In their time, the Greek
|
|
philosophers whom our schools would have us admire
|
|
were only superb and ruthless quibbling brutes.
|
|
"We have fallen into the habit of optimizing our
|
|
actions, results and thoughts. We place pathos and
|
|
emotion on the debit side of our accounting systems.
|
|
Thus we labor to eliminate what we call the irrational,
|
|
with a view to eradicating it. The leading lights of our
|
|
societies have turned to stone, they eschew emotion,
|
|
and this pitiless best of all possible worlds is headed for
|
|
the mortuary and its own funeral.
|
|
"To say that men without love are good is like say-
|
|
ing that rocks and death are gentle."
|
|
"1 admit that the cost-benefit approach can some-
|
|
times be seriously misleading, in that it doesn't take
|
|
account of the complexity of things and people in the
|
|
real world: a given element that is prejudged as bad
|
|
may, in the event, contribute positively to the combined
|
|
community of its neighbors, and vice versa."
|
|
"The decision to avoid emotion falsifies that
|
|
approach even more."
|
|
"We've not been taught to mix reason and pathos."
|
|
"No, certainly. But the essence of humanity passes
|
|
through pathos quite as much as through reason, and
|
|
we owe the biggest bifurcations in history more to pas-
|
|
sion than to understanding.
|
|
"Ecce homo: the only definition of man that I have
|
|
cited because it is beyond discussion cries out in pity in
|
|
the face of the poor tortured victim. Where understand-
|
|
ing fails, the heart succeeds!
|
|
"In fact, can we even hope to survive without emo-
|
|
tions? Our bodies do not warn us of assaults on their
|
|
integrity merely via the channel of intellect, but also
|
|
through language-less pain, which is too swiftly
|
|
defined as pathological. Thus pain and suffering are
|
|
often capable of saving life.
|
|
"Consider this emotion, which creates history's
|
|
upheavals, which teaches us our status, which protects
|
|
from death... these beatings of the heart, this back-
|
|
ground noise that is as old as humanity..... Any philos-
|
|
210
|
|
|
|
MERCY
|
|
ophy which is not prepared to accept it as a precursor of
|
|
reason is surely entirely deficient, a powerless para-
|
|
lytic."
|
|
"I didn't realize that we were here to do philosophy?"
|
|
"In the make-up of the word philo-sophy, love
|
|
comes before knowledge and science."
|
|
"Do you know that from the body of St Michael a
|
|
million heads sprang forth, and that each head bore a
|
|
million eyes, from each of which flowed seventy thou-
|
|
sand tears?
|
|
"Is he weeping before thinking, albeit that he is
|
|
pure spirit?
|
|
"No. The soldier archangel, protector of Israel, hel-
|
|
meted, armored and merciful, weeps eternally over the
|
|
fact that war or other organized forms of violence have
|
|
only thus far come to an end, albeit temporarily, of an
|
|
eternally renascent violence which is brutal, savage,
|
|
bestial, deadly, of men, of angels, and of all beings. His
|
|
tears concentrate the ancient and fundamental sadness
|
|
of contemplative love. The emotion of tears brings to a
|
|
peak the lucidity of eyes."
|
|
"What's going to happen in this future world, with
|
|
no army and no religion, which no longer has produc-
|
|
ers?"
|
|
"Freedom, or the law of the jungle? We need to
|
|
decide."
|
|
"Can we go back to judgement, to the lawcourt where
|
|
we started. Love is blind, and neither follows nor issues
|
|
criteria or standards of judgement!"
|
|
"A criterion of love? Love shuns comparison and
|
|
hierarchy. It mocks them. When it speaks their lan-
|
|
guage, beware! It is no longer love.
|
|
"No," he says. "The reason that I love you is not
|
|
because I think you're the best, the most beautiful, the
|
|
richest, perched at the top of some stupid ladder; I love
|
|
you for your singularity."
|
|
She says, wistfully:
|
|
"Humanity was born, suddenly, from the fact that
|
|
some Adam innocently believed that there existed
|
|
some Eve among others, who was single and unique,
|
|
with and for him, and also from the fact that she
|
|
acquired a reciprocal belief. At that point a marvelous
|
|
garden sprang up between them, in them, and around
|
|
them, full of fruit and flowers and visited often by God.
|
|
They were only forced to leave that garden on the day
|
|
that they succumbed to the temptation of comparison.
|
|
"Because the devil, a fallen angel and a bearer of
|
|
light, encouraged them, treacherously, to eat the apple.
|
|
He said: 'You will be like God'. In other words, the most
|
|
powerful, the strongest, the most intelligent, the best
|
|
etc. History then arose from this scale of degrees, a tum-
|
|
bling river of tears and blood, rushing towards claimed
|
|
excellence by the light of the flaming sword brandished
|
|
by the exterminating angel. On the contrary if you so
|
|
wish it your good will can bring forth Paradise at any
|
|
time, anywhere. A dream for a dream, Pantope.
|
|
"In the hour after my death, between which and
|
|
this moment there will not flow twenty dense seconds,
|
|
because we have lost time, when the angel of consola-
|
|
tion will accompany me and, after having rung, he will
|
|
have planted me at the door, not at all of the first Par-
|
|
adise, but of the last and definitive Paradise, that's how
|
|
I dream of the Judgement.
|
|
"At the entrance to heaven, as we know, St Peter
|
|
stands in judgement, asking each and every person
|
|
|
|
what good they have done in life, and apportioning
|
|
penalties for sin. However—although he hardly ever
|
|
receives a mention-there is also another archangel,
|
|
gentle and smiling, sitting opposite, at the door of satis-
|
|
faction. This is Michael with the Small Foot, an unas-
|
|
suming little archangel. He is there to ask whether your
|
|
life has been happy.... Have you earned enough
|
|
money? My life has been poor, but sufficient. You
|
|
haven't suffered too much pain? I've had eleven opera-
|
|
tions, I've had twenty years of virtual madness, but I
|
|
have no complaints about my health, thank you. Have
|
|
you had enough glory? After a lifetime of obscurity
|
|
came a little fame, which I found rather an embarrass-
|
|
ment. Would you have wanted more bread or wine? No,
|
|
I was hungry as a youth, and also later in life, but I've
|
|
had my share of good wines. Have you traveled suffi-
|
|
ciently in other countries? Yes, I've seen the beauty of
|
|
the world. Have you acquired enough knowledge? I've
|
|
often been blind and deaf, and frequently stupid, but on
|
|
balance I have enjoyed the happiness of understanding.
|
|
Would you say that you have had enough ideas? Yes,
|
|
sometimes a new wind has blown on my face..... So
|
|
you are fulfilled, satisfied. You may pass..... No, no, 1|
|
|
am still hungry, and always will be. Mendicant, suppli-
|
|
cant, thirsty, I have not yet begun to live. Insatiable as if
|
|
Ihad never tasted anything.... Have you given enough
|
|
love? I haven't had enough love, I've hardly begun to
|
|
love; even though my whole life was devoted to it, I
|
|
have barely even begun to be loved. Allow me to live for
|
|
just a while longer—ten hours, four minutes, twenty
|
|
seconds.... Thave, again and again, to make love, now,
|
|
in new ways, inexhaustibly, the only unfulfillable
|
|
urgency between the hour of my death and the drawing
|
|
up, today, of this little will."
|
|
The fint triangle puts together,
|
|
snake (which is visibly female) in
|
|
the scene of the Temptation. The
|
|
oed0tosodmerson
|
|
xrtbbod, dortiayoaoe tar
|
|
in robes of blue, who delivers
|
|
ene tinal trianex woroe wertt
|
|
red archangel, to expel the couple
|
|
Wino hew thworone soree
|
|
The game was thus played in
|
|
threes, and three times over. Is it
|
|
afty wonder that it turned out
|
|
bedly?
|
|
Paul and Herman de Limbourg.
|
|
Tres Rahes hewes ou bux de berry
|
|
Neeow cantraroes
|
|
Muste Condé, Chantilly, France.
|
|
343
|
|
|
|
MERCY
|
|
"When lovers melt into each other, are they giving
|
|
themselves absolution?"
|
|
"How is one to use our language with less exacti-
|
|
tude, since the absolute can never be dissolved? You
|
|
may as well try to exclude exclusion!
|
|
"But don't ever call them dissolute!"
|
|
Pia begins dancing and singing:
|
|
"Tomorrow, love will come to those who have
|
|
never loved. Tomorrow, those who have loved will
|
|
experience love reborn. Tomorrow, those who have suf-
|
|
fered from love will suffer always from him or from her.
|
|
Tomorrow, those who thought they had died from love
|
|
will die once again from another love, or from the same.
|
|
Do you believe that tomorrow love will be extin-
|
|
guished?"
|
|
In the previous picture the red
|
|
archangel performed an act of
|
|
exclusion expelling Adam and Eve
|
|
from the island of Paradise, vis the
|
|
Gothic porch passing across the
|
|
encirding rivers. In this picture we
|
|
witness an act of inclusion into the
|
|
celestial Paradise: the just woman
|
|
is welcomed into the garden by a
|
|
red angel; she enters the dance of
|
|
angels, amid the chromatic scale of
|
|
colored flowers.
|
|
The Dance of Angels, or The Just
|
|
in Datacher, detail from the ta
|
|
Judgement, c. 1431. Museo San
|
|
Marco, Florence, Italy.
|
|
245
|
|
|
|
NOCTURNE
|
|
|
|
With their eyes directed towards
|
|
one point, the gazes of these
|
|
Tom var dus trote, cures
|
|
and colors, join together in one
|
|
primal nakedness to suggest a
|
|
bouquet, of which their heads
|
|
form the flowers; perhaps they are
|
|
considering their genealogical tree,
|
|
the single source of their tresge,
|
|
the primitive nodal point of their
|
|
Traternis.••
|
|
Has humanity intermingled in the
|
|
course of its history in the same
|
|
way as the multiple interflowings
|
|
of the tributaries feeding this lake?
|
|
Small rhulets flowing into Lake
|
|
Natron (so called because of its
|
|
sodium deposits) on the Tanzania-
|
|
Kenya border, on the East African
|
|
Rift.
|
|
LIGHTING-UP TIME
|
|
The airport is still crowded.
|
|
"As I watch all these people passing through the airport
|
|
- Japanese, Australians, Argentinians, Chinese, Rus-
|
|
sians, Moroccans, and so on.... I see them as a display
|
|
of our basic fraternity, spread out before me."
|
|
*The origins of humanity's fraternity lie in Africa,
|
|
thousands of years ago!"
|
|
"In our sick bay, no one person suffers pain or groans
|
|
in any way differently to anybody else. Pain is as univer-
|
|
sal as violence and death; it makes us equal. The same
|
|
bitterness resides in the salt of sweat, tears and blood."
|
|
"Did you know that we had tiny elements hidden
|
|
at the heart of our genetic make-up, called mitochon-
|
|
|
|
dria, which show that originally we all came from the
|
|
same stock?"
|
|
Pia nods. She closes her eyes and recites:
|
|
"Adam and Eve were probably black, and were cer-
|
|
tainly African. They had two children, Cain and Abel,
|
|
and so on and so on, down to our times, when the pop-
|
|
ulation runs into billions and spans the entire world."
|
|
"I can draw a map of the voyages, spread over
|
|
thousands of years, of entire populations on different
|
|
continents; I can chart the genealogical tree of the
|
|
human species and its languages. Imagine its develop-
|
|
ment painted on a panel: by now its outer branchings
|
|
will be way out at each end of the panel. There are now
|
|
huge distances separating the most far-flung descen-
|
|
dants of the first African family, some of whom have
|
|
now become geographically very distant from each
|
|
other: the Australian bushman and Aborigine, the New
|
|
Zealand Maori, and the Finn from Helsinki. The differ.
|
|
ence is enormous!
|
|
"We could see if we can measure on the wall where
|
|
this tree— as vertical as any ladder-would reach."
|
|
Pia takes Pantope by the left arm that he had disen-
|
|
gaged from his right to express the magnitude of these
|
|
distances, and draws him into a waiting room. It is
|
|
empty at this time of night. From the ceiling hangs a
|
|
Calder-style mobile. Delicate, agile, changeable and
|
|
sensitive to the slightest breath of air. From the ends of
|
|
|
|
LIGHTING -UP
|
|
TIME
|
|
The patriarch Nosh sits beneath
|
|
his family tree. The ark which
|
|
he built in order to escape the
|
|
waters of the Flood farca, chest, in
|
|
Latin, as in the Ark of the
|
|
Covenant) is said to have contained
|
|
every existing species, like a
|
|
200 or a botanical garden.
|
|
While all living creation was
|
|
aflost on the flood waters, did he
|
|
and establish their genealogy?
|
|
since this story is archaic in sil
|
|
possible senses, are we to road
|
|
it as the beginnings of our
|
|
natural sciences?
|
|
A Calmet, Genesfogical
|
|
Tree of the Descendants of Noah.
|
|
Disconnaire historique
|
|
de la Bibfe, 1730.
|
|
each of its horizontal arms hang model aircraft repre-
|
|
senting all the airlines in the world, painted in the
|
|
colors of their respective liveries: Australian, Japanese,
|
|
Canadian and Chinese, American, African, Indonesian,
|
|
European..... All languages, all nations...
|
|
"More flying angels!" Pantope chuckles.
|
|
"You can imagine the hook in the ceiling as being our
|
|
earliest ancestors. From there hangs a thread, to which is
|
|
attached a horizontal bar, which has at each end the two
|
|
children born to this one single couple. At the ends of
|
|
this one we have Cain and Abel. From those points hang
|
|
other threads, which are attached to other horizontal
|
|
bars, from which hang other offspring, and so on.."
|
|
"And by so saying, you've just constructed a
|
|
machine in the same image as the family tree that we
|
|
just mapped out on the wall."
|
|
"However it's no longer on the flat surface of a
|
|
wall, but in the space of this room."
|
|
"What difference does that make?"
|
|
"A great deal of difference, Pantope. Would you
|
|
mind opening the door?"
|
|
Almost imperceptibly, a draught enters the room. The
|
|
effect of this is to set the horizontal bars moving on their
|
|
hanging threads, like horses on a carousel, moving in
|
|
ten or twenty small and irregular rotations,
|
|
Then, as if in a ballet, aircraft models that were ini-
|
|
tially close to each other move to a distance, while those
|
|
which were distant now find themselves neighbors.
|
|
The Africans fly towards the Japanese, the Swiss
|
|
towards the Chileans, while the English end up a long
|
|
way away from Ireland.
|
|
"Sublime, isn't it! Those huge separations which
|
|
just now had you stretching your arms as far as they
|
|
would go to measure them, suddenly become no dis-
|
|
tance at all, whereas people who just now were neigh-
|
|
bors suddenly become distant."
|
|
"Twins become separated, and enemy cultures
|
|
intermarry: mixed-race children will be born!"
|
|
"When we depict our family tree spread across a
|
|
flat page, there we all are, distanced, differentiated and
|
|
deceived by the way the pattern is laid out; when we
|
|
portray it in space, it gives us a possibility of meeting.
|
|
"Behind the differences of our respective lan-
|
|
guages, do we all speak one single language?"
|
|
"Here, and since early this morning when the storm
|
|
was raging, where would you say angels are to be
|
|
|
|
NO C TURNE
|
|
This travel agent displays an
|
|
windom-identical models, the
|
|
only difference being in their
|
|
reproduction of the state of
|
|
today's skies, and of the stable city
|
|
of angels. At ground level, airports
|
|
are all different, in distarce.
|
|
languages ano interest, out once
|
|
the aircraft take off, they all fly
|
|
according to the same physical
|
|
laws, the same mechanics
|
|
driving forces, and the same
|
|
juridical regulations. A fist
|
|
picture cannot express the sarne
|
|
realite that can deare
|
|
in space.
|
|
found, Pantope? In the aircraft, or on the invisible
|
|
wings of breaths of air?
|
|
"In us, as men and women, or outside of us, in
|
|
nature or in machines?"
|
|
"In the rounds which they generate, I would say in
|
|
the queues in our airport, where, instead of staying at
|
|
home, separated from each other by thousands of
|
|
miles, Asians mix with Spaniards, and Hindus with
|
|
Tierrafuegans."
|
|
"Ah! Now I understand why you have just been
|
|
singing an amorous round."
|
|
"You see it in motion."
|
|
"So here we are, all cousins and brothers! Instead of
|
|
one single scale or ladder, we have circles, innumerable
|
|
intersecting circles! No more hierarchy, but neighbors!
|
|
No more contempt, but equity! No more injustice, just
|
|
visits!
|
|
|
|
"The little aircraft approach each other head-on, but
|
|
they never crash into each other."
|
|
"I never realized that there were such things as
|
|
philosophical machines..
|
|
.. which create equality and are ideal for pre-
|
|
venting us from fabricating gods!"
|
|
"Now let's have one more effort," she adds, laughing.
|
|
"Instead of simply putting human beings in the
|
|
place of these aircraft, how would it be if we were to
|
|
add every species in nature? Then, in this same twirling
|
|
round of marionettes, woman would come close to but-
|
|
tercup, seaguli to sea, and rock to snake.... And that is
|
|
just how the world is, in its deepest and most concrete
|
|
reality."
|
|
"But twins eventually have to separate and travel
|
|
off on their own! The son has to leave his mother; the
|
|
wolf has to leave its lair."
|
|
"Pantope, pay attention, I'm about to start again!
|
|
|
|
An intermixing and paradisakal
|
|
reconcilation of all species, animal
|
|
and floral, to the accompaniment
|
|
Henri Rousseau ('le Douanier)
|
|
(1044-1910), 7he Dream, 1910
|
|
Museum of Modern Art, New York,
|
|
USA. This picture was exhibited at
|
|
the artist's death. The picture was
|
|
accompanied by the following
|
|
con wrountine sober
|
|
to discowaae anvone thinking of
|
|
writing another for it:
|
|
In a beautiful dream
|
|
Yadwiga
|
|
hears the sound's of a pipe
|
|
plped ty a thoughefuf
|
|
charmer,
|
|
while the moon reflects
|
|
The wild snakes Nisten
|
|
to the instrument's sweet
|
|
airs.'
|
|
Instead of human beings, species and aircraft, I'll now
|
|
list the elements of which our bodies are formed: func-
|
|
tions, organs, tissues, cells, enzymes, molecules, and
|
|
others that I can't remember … which are separated by
|
|
our sciences but which I put back together into one sin-
|
|
gle tree of analysis and of decomposition."
|
|
"Now turn, little mill... And lo and behold, the
|
|
mix begins to appear, the same mixture which I
|
|
encounter concretely every morning-—the interlocking,
|
|
in one single location, of muscles, nerves and bones, tis-
|
|
sues, functions and organs, all needing to be cured and
|
|
cared for.
|
|
"Biology makes its distinctions and invents a sci-
|
|
ence which is precise, effective, general and dead; in
|
|
their intermingling the doctor treats the whole as living
|
|
individuals. I am tempted to give a name to this alloy—
|
|
both fused and discrete as it is, an unknown terrain for
|
|
experts and an everyday reality for practitioners: 1
|
|
would call it flesh. No knowledge without incarna-
|
|
tion."
|
|
284
|
|
|
|
G H TI N G•UP
|
|
The existence of a single law and
|
|
the diversity of multiplicity are not
|
|
necessonly in contradiccion. K may
|
|
happen that a putting together of
|
|
very different things may result
|
|
uthe tcieoronese
|
|
property. We now know how to
|
|
manufacture so-called composite
|
|
marcor ordento droduee
|
|
single chosen result which then
|
|
dominates the mosaic. They
|
|
produce wonderful abstract images
|
|
Wher swooe ororound
|
|
eiie vorrae lowon
|
|
Micrography of a thin section
|
|
otnemery mee an alioydentee
|
|
under strict conditions of heat and
|
|
cooling: when the material is
|
|
wistonco.chetntote
|
|
its original shape.
|
|
"Pia, or how theology makes a comeback via the
|
|
end of a stethoscope!" Pantope laughs.
|
|
"An intense clarity of light shines down from your
|
|
hanging lamp, Pia," he continues,
|
|
"without either
|
|
flame or tongue: a light-bearer, or Lucifer, but without
|
|
evil fire. Even without a lamp of any kind!"
|
|
"A light which is rational and reasoning at one and
|
|
the same time, a rare thing! Interminglings take place
|
|
without being in contradiction with order or classifica-
|
|
tion; universal reason, on the other hand, thrives on dis-
|
|
persion and distancing: it actively produces them and
|
|
observes them.
|
|
"No universe without this blending..."
|
|
"And vice-versa. The intense variety that is the
|
|
result of this intermixing, far from obscuring the law of
|
|
its distribution, enables us to see it.
|
|
"T'he empirical, the flesh, is the heini •i abstrac-
|
|
tion!"
|
|
languages,
|
|
"Thus our airport intermixes gmyys .' ponle and
|
|
distributing
|
|
them
|
|
little
|
|
machine...
|
|
"Not only an airport, Panten.)
|
|
does it too, and the universe as :.t';
|
|
do it more, and better. Wildly disordor
|
|
ived
|
|
they
|
|
ont enclessly
|
|
revealing a fine degree of orde.ins
|
|
They emerge from the network of corsdors, ai ; top at
|
|
a café. It is packed with people.
|
|
Pia says, thoughtfully, as sit- farats frcketato
|
|
her cup:
|
|
"If I were to add sugar to m
|
|
tuvel
|
|
too much to adulterate it, I would s t mmot rs 1
|
|
stirred the spoon and saw tiie 30
|
|
this is the way the little aia ia"
|
|
round and round.."
|
|
. waiting for the sus
|
|
... because the ange
|
|
on the hanging mobile,
|
|
dictably by the angels of the diao:
|
|
invisible substances in the aa:
|
|
like a hundred teaspoons.
|
|
"Or like the way this
|
|
twenty languages and ten nd gin
|
|
"This intermixing takes time
|
|
"Or rather, the procuci dces. Thire fae Maok
|
|
ings of human beings mrkus thir bistes
|
|
clearly explicated."
|
|
"Invisible, dazzling. everyone thhatas Maar war tard
|
|
28
|
|
|
|
NOCTURNE
|
|
battles are what make history: the likes of the Horatii
|
|
against the Curiatii.... And nobody ever notices Sabina
|
|
and Camilla, two victim women, loving their adver-
|
|
saries, and bearing their children by them: there you
|
|
have blending, time, evolution, advance and progress."
|
|
He looks at her, amazed. Was he becoming a femi-
|
|
nist?
|
|
"The male separates, the female blends," he says.
|
|
She looks at him, astonished.
|
|
"Either it is the machine that intermixes things, or it is
|
|
those things that make the mobile turn-as you prefer.
|
|
I now imagine the distanced branchings of the family
|
|
tree, with its burgeoning offshoots, being twisted and
|
|
shaken under the onset of gusting winds, as if in a
|
|
cyclone zone: at that point, branches and foliage that
|
|
were previously distant are brought together, caressing
|
|
each other or slapping against each other."
|
|
"It's my turn now, Pia. Let's classify branches of
|
|
knowledge: is it the case that the sociologist and the
|
|
astrophysicist, one of whom studies the sky, and the
|
|
other humanity down below, will come together one
|
|
day, despite their separation? What storms of under-
|
|
standing are going to have to blow for them to love
|
|
each other?"
|
|
"So what storms does reason need for it to re-find
|
|
the concrete world?"
|
|
As they return to the airport sick bay, they pass the
|
|
boards on which flight arrivals and departures are
|
|
announced.
|
|
"Pia, you have convinced me. Look at these
|
|
machines for blending all people and languages!"
|
|
"Not all of them, Pantope. Far from it."
|
|
On the departures board, the list
|
|
of desanations reads like a
|
|
aareteer of the world, and is ar
|
|
different from the reality of the
|
|
world as a genealogical tree is
|
|
boch dutterent from numan reality,
|
|
she removie tru
|
|
operations of this particular
|
|
message-bearing system, men and
|
|
women ton company secon
|
|
together, re-arrange themselves
|
|
and create new human mixes. Here
|
|
we see them at rest; in a short
|
|
while people who are now
|
|
standing next to each other will be
|
|
a thousand miles apart, and
|
|
strangers will converge into
|
|
neighboxliness. You could read in
|
|
all this the table of contents of this
|
|
book.
|
|
She gives some loose change to a beggar sitting on
|
|
the ground:
|
|
"It is the wretched of the earth who make the
|
|
humanity of the universe, Pantope, and they are more
|
|
numerous than travelers. They constitute, above all
|
|
else, an eternity of which history never spoke; in no
|
|
way do those who produce time blend with them."
|
|
|
|
Humanity was born, all of a
|
|
eden. drine omen when sort
|
|
Adam, in his innocence, beliered
|
|
that some Eve, among others,
|
|
exoxco, one and alone, with and
|
|
for him, and at the moment that
|
|
she care to believe similarly. At
|
|
that moment a garden of marvels
|
|
sprang up between them, in them,
|
|
and around them, full of flowers
|
|
and fruit. Seraphic, and visited
|
|
often by God. They were only
|
|
obliged to leave that garden on
|
|
the day when they succumbed to
|
|
the temptation of comparison.
|
|
Adam and Eve in Paradise,
|
|
miniature from the famane,
|
|
c. 1610. Topkapi Palace Library,
|
|
Istanbul, Turkey.
|
|
Paul and Herman de Umbourg
|
|
(d. 1416). Très Riches Heures du
|
|
Oue de Berry (1413-16), Four
|
|
winged Straphim: St John on
|
|
Patmos. Muste Conde, Chantity,
|
|
SERAPHIM
|
|
"Why do you travel so much?"
|
|
"In order not to be in the state of having arrived.
|
|
You won't find me at the place which I'm leaving, or at
|
|
the place to where I'm going. I'm absent from the world
|
|
for everyone."
|
|
"Is that running away?"
|
|
"I'm attracted by just wandering, disappearing,
|
|
being on my own somewhere. I leave, but when I arrive
|
|
somewhere I only stay there for long enough to leave
|
|
again."
|
|
"But you're here now!"
|
|
"Would you like me to leave?"
|
|
"You dare!"
|
|
|
|
NOCTURNE
|
|
"In that way I have come to understand my own
|
|
absence."
|
|
"To what end?"
|
|
"In order better to be able to see, hear, pay attention,
|
|
understand and find. The less I exist, the more I think."
|
|
"You fly, Pantope. Like aircraft. They are where
|
|
they are not, and they're not where they are. They're
|
|
not beings, but relations!"
|
|
"Why do you look after other people, Pia?"
|
|
"Each patient exists powerfully as a presence-all
|
|
the more so when they're worried and in pain. By the
|
|
same token, for our care to bring relief, they have to for-
|
|
get that I am there."
|
|
"But you are there!"
|
|
"My profession requires me to disappear, just as
|
|
you said this morning, when you were talking about
|
|
lecturers and messengers. It was a similar desire for
|
|
withdrawal that led me to choose this job. The more I
|
|
think, the less I am."
|
|
"You are not that which you are, and you are that
|
|
which you are not: you are a giver, Pia."
|
|
Silence.
|
|
Unspoken thoughts were going through his head:
|
|
*I've spent half a lifetime in airports, waiting rooms
|
|
and amusement arcades, at the edge of the sea and on
|
|
the edge of tears, always moving, always on the go,
|
|
attentive, absent, looking for the road to take, then tak-
|
|
ing it, and then leaving it. I'm lost. What do I wait for?
|
|
Arrival, transit, departure, flight.... Why do I lead this
|
|
distracted existence? Why spend a year in New York
|
|
rather than Barcelona, Pantin or Valparaiso? Why return
|
|
to Paris this moming, an exile even in my own country?
|
|
To do what? To see whom? Since wretchedness is the
|
|
same the world over, and space has the same taste wher-
|
|
ever you are ... people, my passing, my loss, my forget-
|
|
ting and my indifferences, my isolation in roaming and
|
|
in hope, Earth, my companion in solitude."
|
|
Pia says, gently, as if she had overheard his private
|
|
thoughts:
|
|
"You live in airports, places of passage and transit,
|
|
always mingling with crowds."
|
|
"You live in this same port, a place of multiple
|
|
neighborings, but where the same people rarely pass
|
|
twice: everybody is always someone other."
|
|
"Maybe we don't exist?"
|
|
A pause.
|
|
"Have you ever experienced the pleasure of going
|
|
very gently, silently, on tiptoe, like the wind —the art of
|
|
passing unnoticed, of quitting a place as if you'd never
|
|
been there, of leaving things exactly as they were, and
|
|
then, suddenly, becoming transparent, whiter than
|
|
white, empty and pure as the air of the universe, full of
|
|
light...?
|
|
"The wild passion of letting yourself be transported
|
|
by wind, by burning heat and by cold space...
|
|
"...the pleasure of being anonymous, of being
|
|
quiet for a long time, of existing in no place at all ...
|
|
where the dialogs of others continually slip in."
|
|
"...the pleasure of leaving, of being far away, of
|
|
being missing…."
|
|
"The subtle pleasures of erasing the presence of
|
|
your body, your words and your shadow, of counting
|
|
for nothing, of hiding yourself, of becoming so light
|
|
that you fly away.….
|
|
Standstill.
|
|
|
|
As tuck would hore it, Paradice
|
|
obseives into a primitive memory
|
|
and regret for a lass, or peciecte
|
|
itself as the hope of an eventual
|
|
human educations. Silence writes
|
|
on the ground the stave of a silent
|
|
musketeor
|
|
rewaro, decause the crossing of the
|
|
Sand ridges in the Simpson
|
|
desert, whether in a group or on
|
|
one's own, remains the best of all
|
|
east of Alice Springs.
|
|
Angels pass in silence, wordless flight, subjects dis-
|
|
appearing.
|
|
"Did you know that, without anyone realizing it,
|
|
the word cacher, to hide, has traces of the Latin cogitare,
|
|
to think?"
|
|
"So is it that the person who hides thinks, or does
|
|
the person who thinks hide something, or himself?"
|
|
"I don't particularly enjoy thinking about objects—
|
|
often mere empty things— with words, that fast become
|
|
frivolous. I prefer to live in a vacuum, to entrust myself
|
|
to time, to bed down in a shady place and listen to
|
|
silence. Words sometimes make so much noise that
|
|
they obliterate the idea that they're seeking to express,
|
|
whereas the hollow form in which I hide myself con-
|
|
tains the essence of thought. Lying, motionless, in the
|
|
dark room of some anonymous tourist hotel, sunk in
|
|
silence and in darkness, I begin to be in a state of no
|
|
longer existing, so that, when death finally arrives, in a
|
|
sense it will find nobody."
|
|
They neither of them see the other now. Who is speak-
|
|
ing?
|
|
"When I'm traveling I change languages and adapt
|
|
myself to places, like a moving pool of water or a pass-
|
|
ing breeze. Foreign languages slide off my skin like
|
|
water off a duck's back. You may think that I'm moving
|
|
from place to place, but what is in fact moving is a kind
|
|
of phantom or shade."
|
|
"What I absorb is the smell of the patient, which is
|
|
quite specific in an unwell body, and the deep-throated
|
|
sound of pain."
|
|
"I have only ever traveled in order to reconnect
|
|
with my nothingness; my body has resisted the learn-
|
|
|
|
NOCTURNE
|
|
ing of languages, in order to stay lost, bewildered, sus-
|
|
pended and in flight."
|
|
"I have only ever cured people in order to fuse
|
|
myself with the bodies of others."
|
|
A moment of emotion.
|
|
"Do you exist, my friend?"
|
|
"As little as you, I would say, Pantope."
|
|
At this point, without saying anything, they knew
|
|
that they were in love.
|
|
The conversation moves on to a new track:
|
|
"You have shown me a universe of networks, and
|
|
shown me how to see everywhere, and to hear at all
|
|
times, angels, Pia. Message bearers. It's thanks to their
|
|
work that this universe functions as wondrously as it
|
|
does."
|
|
"But do we really have anything to say to ourselves
|
|
through this universal message bearing...?"
|
|
"... which exalts only power and glory, violence
|
|
and unhappiness, and in the process constructs a thou-
|
|
sand unjust hierarchies."
|
|
"What is the point of all this intercommunication, if
|
|
all it does is to sing of all the ways in which we lack
|
|
love? Can we live without joy or supplication, without
|
|
pity or perfect love?"
|
|
"Do sicknesses all derive from the fact of hating
|
|
love?"
|
|
"The angels of old loved us enough for the roles
|
|
which demand compassion: guardians, protectors,
|
|
guides for travelers, messengers in our sleeping and
|
|
waking dreams, comforters of the dying, announcers of
|
|
the good tidings... The hard-nosed realities of science
|
|
and law, of giant investments in multimedia communi-
|
|
The depth of the waters and the
|
|
random outcrops of jagged rocks
|
|
make for unpredictable currents
|
|
ewine and dred onderous
|
|
for navigation in the Bay of
|
|
Along, one of the wonders
|
|
of the world. For a long time,
|
|
pirates-and. more recentiv.
|
|
refugees-have sought refuge
|
|
in its inextricable labyrinth.
|
|
Archangels or gnomes?
|
|
A junk in the Bay of Along, in
|
|
North Vietnam, on a calm sea, in a
|
|
cations, create relationships that are cynical. We no
|
|
longer love love. A hard-edged era, a dry century, a
|
|
time of stone."
|
|
"You have a love for mankind, gentle doctor."
|
|
"You love the world, wise voyager!"
|
|
"So now put yourself on board an aircraft, flying
|
|
above Labrador, under the pleated skirts of a mauve
|
|
aurora borealis.... While physics fills your head with
|
|
the facts about magnetic fields and charged particles,
|
|
legions of angels fall from the heavens, a delightful
|
|
shower on that same head of yours, in myriad cascades,
|
|
enough to make you weep with marveling emotion.
|
|
"The fact that you understand the geological origins
|
|
of the volcanic formations in the Bay of Along does not
|
|
prevent a quickening of your heart when you first wit-
|
|
ness the labyrinthine archipelago with its mortal meteors.
|
|
I imagine that they were all scattered there by gnomes.
|
|
|
|
As testimory to the deep inner
|
|
volcanoes present a magnificent
|
|
and menacing spectacle. With their
|
|
unpreo stole awarchings,
|
|
volcanoes may threaten the
|
|
existence of nearby towns; they
|
|
Moree mere he where
|
|
A sovereign source and global
|
|
menace? The major eruption
|
|
oPhotos here, mer
|
|
in June 1991, on the island of
|
|
lucon, north-west of Manila,
|
|
"By what partial understandings do the natural sci-
|
|
ences divest themselves of the enchantment of the
|
|
supernatural? If anything, knowledge of geography
|
|
adds to our ecstasy at the sight of the waters of the
|
|
Troise. They say that the spirit descends upon certain
|
|
people and makes prophets of them; but here the same
|
|
psalms rise up from the shores and the rocks. I even
|
|
hear this clamor better when it echoes in the unceasing
|
|
background sounds of wind and tide than in clattering
|
|
musical scores for cymbals.
|
|
"What speaks to us best? The sounds of things, or
|
|
the creative works of men?"
|
|
"Reason combined with emotion, begotten by the
|
|
universe."
|
|
"Combined with ...?"
|
|
"Does an understanding of oceanography stand in
|
|
the way of our fascination at the sight of a grey ice-floe,
|
|
and glaciers spawning their icebergs in the Arctic
|
|
Ocean? Does the science of tectonic plates confine the
|
|
|
|
NOCTURNE
|
|
enthusiasm which a strong earth tremor delivers to
|
|
your stomach, and the thrill to be had by climbing to
|
|
the crimson crater of Mount Etna, or the volcanoes of
|
|
Malaysia, with their plume of smoke rising straight up
|
|
into the calm sky, piercing the layer of equatorial cloud,
|
|
or of the dark cone of Stromboli, or the serene geometry
|
|
of Fuj-San? Have you ever experienced raging
|
|
cyclones on the high seas? Have you ever traveled
|
|
across the ocher and purple deserts of Australia, where
|
|
reality seems to simulate some abstract painting?
|
|
"Does science in any way add to the enchantment
|
|
of the world?"
|
|
"It reproduces it, it reveals, details and multiplies it.
|
|
As a geometrician and physicist, I have met angels in
|
|
their thousands, shrieking in a wicked wind as it lashes
|
|
the ocean-God, what a furore! Also, when I was a
|
|
child I was always scared of the angels-who must
|
|
surely have been fallen angels -whose perverseness
|
|
made our river swell with water and swamp my
|
|
father's boats, after months of heavy rain, and the melt-
|
|
ing snow coming down in March. We slept and worked
|
|
under the constant threat of the unleashing of these
|
|
malevolent demons, just as the peasants of the Philip-
|
|
pines cultivate their rice below the menacing peak of
|
|
Pinatubo, or Bangladeshi peasants farm under the risk
|
|
of being drowned beneath raging floodwaters."
|
|
"Human beings can also switch nature without
|
|
warning, from benefactors to villains, from angels to
|
|
devils."
|
|
"The wind is both life-bringing and ruthless; fire is
|
|
both warming and devastating; the same water that
|
|
baptizes us swallows people when they drown; the
|
|
same earth that feeds us takes our buried dead.
|
|
"Wind can turn from a pleasant presence that fills
|
|
The photographs of certain
|
|
oceans, ice-kapes and deserts
|
|
provided ay the refined techniques
|
|
of modern science make the
|
|
amateur wonder whether there is
|
|
cole reno termosween
|
|
enter penin and strate t
|
|
empirical representations of
|
|
nature, given that the world is so
|
|
teeming with strange and
|
|
beautiful views, in other places and
|
|
at other cecrees of magnitude
|
|
than those svallsole to ordinary
|
|
everyday perception. On to what
|
|
real world does this oval porthole
|
|
open?
|
|
Piet Mondrian (1872-1944),
|
|
Painting Al, Oval Composition
|
|
(Trees), 1913. Stedelijk Museum,
|
|
Amsterdam, Holland,
|
|
our sails, to a demon that blows down houses; fire
|
|
warms us and guards us, but may suddenly turn
|
|
satanic and burn us; water and earth may be protective,
|
|
assuaging thirst and hunger, or murderous, suffocating
|
|
us in agony. We should love this twin-natured existence
|
|
of the world, Pia."
|
|
"And we should love the twin-natured essence of
|
|
human beings, Pantope."
|
|
"So do we also have to love demons, villains and
|
|
horrible people?"
|
|
"Them especially: they are angels too, albeit fallen.
|
|
Beneath the dominant beast sleeps the beauty.
|
|
"Only the beauty of the world gives us reason to
|
|
believe in God, Pia."
|
|
"Only the finer works of mankind draw yours truly
|
|
down the same path."
|
|
He waits for a long moment, and then continues, slowly:
|
|
|
|
NOCTURNE
|
|
"Animals, trees and stones... Reckon now the pro-
|
|
gressive ages of the inhabitants and components of the
|
|
Earth. When awareness vanishes in the hearts of ani-
|
|
mals, and movement stops, time retraces its steps from
|
|
fauna to flora, from animals to plants, and from plants
|
|
to cold rocks.
|
|
"As people get older, some acquire no more than
|
|
the memory of their old age, spanning back no more
|
|
than a century; others add the memory of their read-
|
|
ings, which may take them back some thousands of
|
|
years; but those who know how to be quiet, and who
|
|
are able to stop and watch and study animals, trees and
|
|
stones, go back billions of years, to acquire the ultimate
|
|
truth, the truth which made animals lose their speech,
|
|
plants their movement, and rocks their life activity.
|
|
"Thus, since the origins of time, cliffs, mountains
|
|
and lakes have watched-unmoving, silent and inert—
|
|
the portion of earth where they came to a stop; then
|
|
trees stopped moving and took root there; and animals
|
|
fell silent, lost in ecstasy. All old, like me, and struck
|
|
motionless before the beauty of the world.
|
|
"Now, by dint of contemplation, silence and immo-
|
|
bility, these inhabitants of the world are what now com-
|
|
pose its beauty, the last truth.
|
|
"When my life finally comes to an end, when I
|
|
finally lay aside my pen for all time, setting aside burn-
|
|
ing desire, and speech, and standing upright, and all
|
|
sign of life, then and only then will I enter into the
|
|
beauty of this world, to augment it."
|
|
Pia:
|
|
"Did you know that the word 'author' means an
|
|
'augmenter'?"
|
|
We're on our way! Our first
|
|
direct and beautiful view of planet
|
|
Earth as a whole, as photographed
|
|
by astronauts, constituted an
|
|
authentic revolution in the spirit
|
|
and perception of human beings of
|
|
all languages and cultures. For the
|
|
first time we can imagine at least
|
|
the beginnings of a universal
|
|
solidarity, like that which unites
|
|
the dew of a ship
|
|
Planet Earth (Arabis, Africa and
|
|
the Antarctic) seen from space,
|
|
photographed by Apolio 17 during
|
|
its voyage to the Moon in
|
|
December 1972.
|
|
|
|
A trion of tuo diginct entes
|
|
smells, odors, breaths, fragrances,
|
|
scents and perfumes; a contact of
|
|
|
|
Alia
|
|
HOT 30
|
|
brilliant presences and two
|
|
Muscolo cotono
|
|
resistances; a symphony of two
|
|
here, distinguishes, blends and
|
|
fuses yellows, ochers, sorrets
|
|
temons, blond ambers, saffrons,
|
|
topazes, maizes, mustards,
|
|
caramels, champagnes, straws,
|
|
honeys, siennas, old roses, oranges
|
|
and golds... in a precious mosaic
|
|
(another name for music).
|
|
Gustave Klimt (1862-1918), The
|
|
Kis, 1907-8, Österreichische
|
|
Galeric, Vienna, Austria.
|
|
|
|
SERAPHIM
|
|
"So let us produce only works which make things
|
|
grow."
|
|
He continues:
|
|
"But seeing that everyone is shut away in towns,
|
|
who ever sees the world these days? Love it in its
|
|
entirety, Pia, warts and all; it was only recently that, for
|
|
the first time, we had the opportunity to view the Earth
|
|
in its global entirety."
|
|
"Love the entirety of humanity, Pantope, since
|
|
your newly unified world and its message-bearing sys-
|
|
tems obliges it to unite for the first time."
|
|
"So are men and things going to exchange mes-
|
|
sages between them, en bloc?"
|
|
"Like the two of us?"
|
|
"To say what?"
|
|
They remain silent for a long while, as if angels really
|
|
are passing, bearing calm news.
|
|
"I'm as timid as anyone, but I would like to end by
|
|
telling you about... my predilection.
|
|
"Yes, I have traveled enormously, so much do I love
|
|
the world; it can be a beautiful place. I've lived in a
|
|
hundred places and circumstances, during frequent
|
|
wars and rarer periods of peace. I have known hunger
|
|
and poverty. I don't remember never having had to
|
|
work...
|
|
"But, on balance, the rare and truly precious
|
|
moments of a brief life (the kind of moments which I
|
|
imagine anybody would be willing to buy back at the
|
|
price of what life remains to him) were passed in love-
|
|
in seraphic instants where the flesh states its divinity.
|
|
Always rebirthing and productive of time, love is an
|
|
angel-child; it is the only thing which does not become
|
|
worn out with duration, whether we live in it or it lives
|
|
in us; formerly, I thought in its youth, it died in me,
|
|
henceforth.
|
|
"There is no vitality except through love; no strong
|
|
and constructive adult except for love; no old age and
|
|
wisdom except in relation to love; no goodness or cre-
|
|
ativity, the only virtues that are worth anything, except
|
|
through it, with it and in it.
|
|
"The body is not brought into life, does not begin, is
|
|
not formed except from love; the backbone stands
|
|
upright only through love; one's humiliated bones only
|
|
gather themselves up with joy because of love; blood
|
|
only circulates, legs only run, arms only raise, muscles
|
|
only tense, nerves only react, and joints only bend in
|
|
relation to love; cells only multiply or associate accord-
|
|
ing to love's law; the heart only beats by love; the brain
|
|
only functions at a high pitch through love; hair only
|
|
gets dishevelled, falls out, or becomes white for the rea
|
|
sons and unhappinesses of love; the palate only tastes,
|
|
the tongue only moves and the throat only chokes in
|
|
the presence of love; sweat and tears only run when
|
|
your skin and eyes are full of love; cries only emerge
|
|
from the pit of the stomach from love; sobs, together
|
|
with despair and unrequited wanting, come only from
|
|
out of love; music only descends from the heavens
|
|
amidst love and supplication before love and grateful
|
|
rejoicing on one's knees after love; sex is nothing with-
|
|
out love; a vague life of shadow and cardboard passes
|
|
by, poorly, between and without acts of love, in the
|
|
hope of new ones, and in forgetful memory of past
|
|
ones; memory and amnesia begin only after love; imag-
|
|
ination only takes flight above or below love; sins are
|
|
only committed in relation to or against love; ecstasy is
|
|
only achieved during love; there is nothing in knowl-
|
|
|
|
NOCTURNE
|
|
edge which did not first spring from love, and pass
|
|
span of the four limbs of the woman standing before
|
|
through ecstasy; there is sadness only in excepting love;
|
|
him?
|
|
our times, our spaces, our thoughts, our feelings, our
|
|
In any event, once they had united, they got up.
|
|
actions are posed in relation to love alone; there is no
|
|
"I love the fact that you love the fact that I love
|
|
life except according to or following love; we are only
|
|
you," they say. "I discover my joy in the joy that you
|
|
close to others, and perhaps also to ourselves, through
|
|
discover in me."
|
|
the closest of contacts with love; and we will never
|
|
Do they decide to call each other Theodore and
|
|
know if, in dying, love ceases, or whether that is the
|
|
Dorothea, on the grounds that they knew that God had
|
|
point at which it truly begins..."
|
|
given one of them to the other, but they couldn't
|
|
"In amor-tality?" she asks, laughing.
|
|
remember which was which?
|
|
"No thought is worth anything without love; with-
|
|
Reborn, the two of them enter the triangle of the
|
|
out love we find nothing to say.
|
|
seraphim.
|
|
"As a foundation, it supports and upholds; as fire
|
|
and energy, it moves, emotes, changes and transforms;
|
|
as a messenger, it takes wing and delights.
|
|
"Love is the sum of all philosophy.
|
|
"I am as timid as anyone, and I want to finish by
|
|
saying, Pia, that I love you."
|
|
"Angels, archangels and cherubim," she says, "trans-
|
|
mit noises, music, song, verbal messages, texts without
|
|
body, words, phrases, conversations, codes, paper and
|
|
wind. When these messengers finally fall silent, the
|
|
Word becomes flesh.
|
|
"The true messages are human flesh itself. Meaning
|
|
is the body."
|
|
"Or the world."
|
|
"Love is fleshly."
|
|
Was she listening to him, or was she doing the talking?
|
|
He in turn, in listening to her, couldn't decide what was
|
|
happening. Was it that his thorax was being quartered,
|
|
his bones cracking, and wings sprouting from his
|
|
body? Or was it that wings were enlarging the white
|
|
"The Angel of the East dressed in
|
|
Earth is the habitual state of
|
|
purple, and the Angel of the
|
|
Angels in Heaven. Love is the light
|
|
of then woeld..
|
|
like two breaths of wind and
|
|
"merged: one was an Angel of love,
|
|
the other an Angel of
|
|
wisdom. these two Angels had
|
|
been united on Earth by bonds of
|
|
micromlp aho ne diway» bcen s
|
|
Oi, parate does
|
|
The mutual giving which is the
|
|
essence of good marriages on
|
|
This infinite reciprocity is the
|
|
essence of their life." Honoré de
|
|
Balzac, Strafita, La Comédie
|
|
Humaine, (Pliade, Paris),
|
|
wol. XI, pp.782-3.
|
|
A Double-winged Seraph,
|
|
Byzantine mosaic, twelfth to
|
|
thirteenth century. San Marco
|
|
Basilica, Venice, Italy.
|
|
|
|
MIDNIGHT
|
|
|
|
The French mathematician mile
|
|
calculable probability would be
|
|
the equivalent of throwing down
|
|
a handful of letters and coming up
|
|
words such as the ones on the
|
|
banner held by these angels:
|
|
goodwill."
|
|
The English thermodynamicist
|
|
James Jeans (1877-1946) used the
|
|
term 'miracle to refer to a physical
|
|
event whose cakulable probability
|
|
would be the equivalent of seeing
|
|
a container of water freeze when
|
|
It was placed in a superheated
|
|
the complexity of DNA, and the
|
|
even greater complexity of arry
|
|
organism, the probability of this
|
|
very singular little chap being
|
|
born-a mixed-rose child held in
|
|
two pairs of hands: one pair black
|
|
and the other white--is so low
|
|
that one might call this too a
|
|
"miracle'. Science enables us to see
|
|
the reality of miracles.
|
|
Wall painting from the chapel
|
|
in the counted urte
|
|
Bouroc. France
|
|
NOEL
|
|
There's a radio message from an aircraft in flight: it was
|
|
ill-advised of her to have boarded in her condition. A
|
|
pregnant woman passenger, en route from Israel, is suf
|
|
ering contractions in mid-air. The aircraft lands
|
|
Pia runs to the arrivals lounge.
|
|
She is astonished at the sight that greets her.
|
|
Since people are pushing round to look, the air
|
|
stewardesses have to get the mother-to-be away from
|
|
|
|
MIONIGHT
|
|
A group of astronomers and chemists has flown in
|
|
from Iraq for a scientific conference; they stand by and
|
|
burn incense... The woman's baby is delivered.
|
|
The shop's window display collapses….. furry toy ani-
|
|
mals all over the place... a donkey, and ox.... A man
|
|
is leaning over the woman..... The new-born child is
|
|
minute, naked, shining with a tiny light.
|
|
As Pia stands there, she thinks:
|
|
"As between the banal perception and the ecstasy,
|
|
between a setting like this and paradise, the hazards of
|
|
life and eternal happiness, this anonymous place and a
|
|
king's palace, between the dreariness of concrete and
|
|
the splendor of the story, the Messiah and the street
|
|
child.
|
|
"More errant than a tumbling dice, than a vapor, a
|
|
breath of wind, the smallest movement of some light
|
|
thing, a feather, an atom, a corpuscle, more impercepti-
|
|
ble than an intention, the difference always escapes us,
|
|
infinitesimal, equivalent to a breaking into tears.
|
|
"An experience so powerful and so conclusive that
|
|
one can call it ultimate, and think of dying, passing
|
|
immediately into another world ….. even here?
|
|
"To be born?" she wonders.
|
|
The young mother looks pale. She is bleeding. She says
|
|
that her belly feels heavy. Still smeared with afterbirth
|
|
the baby wails among the toy animals and the straw
|
|
dolls. The donkey seems to nuzzle up next to the ox. It
|
|
is night time, and cold.
|
|
Pia kneels down. The man whom she presumes to
|
|
be the father helps her, shakily, as she cuts the cord. She
|
|
imagines that he might be a carpenter. Like all good
|
|
manual workers, his heavy, skilful hands seem to be.
|
|
stamped with the silky grain of woods that resemble
|
|
joints of meat-pink, white, scented, according to the
|
|
way it's been cut and the knots that are in it: maternal
|
|
matter.
|
|
The shepherds offer cheeses.
|
|
Sheepskins and straw, mother and child, animals
|
|
blending with the crowd, people and things. In this
|
|
scene, what is pregnant is the flesh.
|
|
Music is playing over the airport tannoys. It overlays
|
|
the sounds of the crowd of onlookers. Pia busies herself
|
|
with the mother, who is uncomfortable in this cramped
|
|
|
|
Onty the mother, with her open
|
|
weenand tourneto
|
|
cakulate it, knows that the infant
|
|
Te, methorouterne
|
|
like a rare miracle, or Messiah. In
|
|
orde to undent and this win their
|
|
space, and with the child. Crouching low as she works,
|
|
she thinks wishful thoughts:
|
|
"I love the outdoor life. In the mountains, in the
|
|
country, at the seaside places where you can see for a
|
|
long way. Towns are so claustrophobic. With their
|
|
never-ending walls and streets they make it impossible
|
|
to see any distance. In the country there is an immensity
|
|
of space that soothes your eyes, calms their restlessness
|
|
at being confined by these prisons.
|
|
"Once I was walking on some hills from which you
|
|
could look out over the whole countryside. I heard a
|
|
woman calling from far off in the distance. It awoke in
|
|
|
|
The twilight of the angels.
|
|
anybody else. So what is the
|
|
were done yeti
|
|
of the painting refers? it is the
|
|
same conversation as that of our
|
|
monic, carlier. Savate but
|
|
together. It is at the same scale
|
|
as that of the Word. Here it is
|
|
again, ten. Crass ano srang:
|
|
produce music, and John the
|
|
Baptist as a child symbolizes the
|
|
cry in the desert. In the midst of
|
|
musicians, and in the face of that
|
|
trying voice, Jesus is the Word
|
|
she the westheteo
|
|
to say, the sum totality of the
|
|
Message. This genealogy having
|
|
been fulfilled, the angels return
|
|
to their normal places: in the
|
|
orchestra pit.
|
|
Vittore Caroacciol
|
|
(1460-1526), Sacra
|
|
Conversazione, Musée du Petit-
|
|
Palals, Avignon, France.
|
|
|
|
MIDNIGHT
|
|
me an ancient memory from way back, from the years
|
|
of my childhood in the countryside, when the voices of
|
|
our neighbors would hail us from the horizon. So the
|
|
space of our auditory horizons was also immense.
|
|
"But now that the sound-pollution of engines and
|
|
never-ending industrial muzak have invaded all avail-
|
|
able space, nobody any longer calls to people over such
|
|
long distances. Our voices find themselves shut out of
|
|
the world. These walls of sound intercept our messages
|
|
and corral us, even out of doors, into a field of hearing
|
|
that is tiny. Views are cut off, hearing is blocked, so
|
|
what am I doing here?
|
|
"We have chased all the angels out of our country-
|
|
side, where they will never again sing the hymn of the
|
|
heavens.
|
|
"What are they singing tonight? What are these angels?
|
|
They are messengers; guardians of wise people and of
|
|
people who are lost; advisers to kings good and bad, to
|
|
poor people and victims, to tyrannical empires and
|
|
egotistical villages; as a community they are responsi-
|
|
ble for the salvation of the Earth as a whole, by peoples,
|
|
nations and neighborhoods. And now here they are,
|
|
gathered together, in conference, arriving at the speed
|
|
of light from all places, from ali horizons, and from the
|
|
most remote past, because they have suddenly been
|
|
notified of the good tidings. They are happy, at last, to
|
|
be able to hand over their responsibilities to the Media-
|
|
tor, who is more efficiacious than they are because, for
|
|
all eternity, they fail in the undertaking of converting
|
|
the world, by groups and by individuals.
|
|
"Why is it that they fail?
|
|
"It's obvious," Pia thinks. "It's because of their
|
|
intelligence: quick as a flash, light as the wind, as fast-
|
|
moving and brilliant as light, dazzling like lightning
|
|
flying, abstract, graceful, gentle, full of wit and style, of
|
|
music, of spirit, of restless repartee, even of good-
|
|
ness... yes, of angelism.
|
|
"Unbearable.
|
|
"The reason why their messages do not come across
|
|
is because they lack body: they are intellectual."
|
|
"Singing the new Christmas hymn, they sing, con-
|
|
versely, the glory of the flesh. Wracked with humility,
|
|
once in a way, the angelic intellectuals of the cities fill
|
|
rural space with this strange annunciation that their
|
|
messages, now obsolete, volatile and empty, will, for
|
|
the time to come, give way to the heavy body which is,
|
|
in the here and now, it and it alone, the Word: flesh,
|
|
with its sweat and its meconium, its blood and its
|
|
saliva, the animality of ass and ox, wood and milk,
|
|
straw and dung, the presence of the three shepherds,
|
|
the mother's pain.
|
|
"The Word is no longer the cry in the desert, the
|
|
burning prophesy or the psalm, the music, the litany,
|
|
the motet, the rustling of crossed wings, the coded mes-
|
|
sage, transported, delivered, received and deciphered,
|
|
emphatic words and speeches, written law, sign, mean-
|
|
ing, the signified and the signifier, speech, language,
|
|
commentary and interpretation. all of which are
|
|
angelic... Rather it is the flesh. Yes, the real and actual
|
|
flesh, which has just been born from the other mother,
|
|
dense with divine life, divine intelligence and divine
|
|
presence.
|
|
"We are not talking of God as something distant,
|
|
living in the body and achieving lastingness through
|
|
blood; it is not that blood and the body symbolize him.
|
|
No: God is flesh and the flesh is God; one and the same.
|
|
|
|
"Angels will still be able to continue expressing
|
|
their language, writing and singing, transporting and
|
|
coding messages, distinguishing the symbol and the
|
|
devil, professing, like commentators, and commentat-
|
|
ing, like professors... but henceforth their role will be
|
|
subaltern, their age will have come to an end, and both
|
|
their role and their age will have been fulfilled, because
|
|
the message is here, in this place, in this living space, in
|
|
this stable with its animals, in this cradle surrounded
|
|
by quadrupeds, in this smelly immanence and real and
|
|
actual tangibility, at the crib.
|
|
"Today the City is a chattering, language-filled,
|
|
puritan, message-bearing, advertisement-laden thing.
|
|
It replaces reality with its representations in sound and
|
|
image; it no longer bears children; it destroys species
|
|
and keeps only pets as animals, having first neutered
|
|
them; it no longer examines life in its laboratories; it for-
|
|
sakes love and expatiates on sex, via the intermediary
|
|
of personal computers and psychiatrists; contemptuous
|
|
of muscle and heart, it follows the latest fads for exer-
|
|
cise and diets... the power, the capacity, the speed and
|
|
the shortcomings of angels haunt this City.
|
|
"Throughout the whole world, all the networks are
|
|
crying out about hunger, are screaming a thirst for incar-
|
|
nation, in a situation where the body is horribly lacking.
|
|
But at last, the Good News: the Messiah, the message, is
|
|
flesh, immanent, which saves itself, in and of itself."
|
|
She said these last few words out loud.
|
|
"To my knowledge," says one of the scientists, "this
|
|
flesh in itself teaches us nothing; in order to understand
|
|
or explain it we divide it into functions organs, cells and
|
|
molecules.."
|
|
"I know, but that is all a doctor has to go on-real,
|
|
all intermingled, all bones, nerves and blood, compact,
|
|
concrete, living, individual, pained with hate, joyous
|
|
with love, here seen in its nascent state...."
|
|
"A theologian's dreamings," he says.
|
|
"But also a practical everyday experience. When a
|
|
patient tells me that he has a pain, he points to a partic-
|
|
ular part of his body where different tissues, cells and
|
|
functions intermix. You never tell me anything about
|
|
that place."
|
|
"You're mixing up what we're trying to analyze.
|
|
You are confusing things!"
|
|
"In the laboratory you lose life: in my case life
|
|
requires of me that I comfort it and save it."
|
|
"You don't understand it, though."
|
|
"But how is one supposed to understand sick peo-
|
|
ple?"
|
|
"You explain nothing to them."
|
|
"But I bring them comfort. How can one manage
|
|
this without loving the flesh? These intermixings, com-
|
|
posites, mixtures, confluences... of carbon and nitro-
|
|
gen, of rare earths and metals, of organs and functions,
|
|
of sweat and milk, of gold, frankincense and myrrh, of
|
|
fires and signals, of forgetting and memory, of scientists
|
|
and shepherds, of Spanish-speakers and Arabs, of indi-
|
|
viduals in the crowd, of networks of communication
|
|
where wander those who are going to enrol on the cen-
|
|
sus registers and those who run congresses and confer-
|
|
ences, composite and varied multiplicities, these
|
|
encounters, including our own….. what way can we
|
|
find of naming them other than by calling them the
|
|
loves of humble, fleshly man..? Which was our point
|
|
of departure this morning, and the point which we
|
|
have regained, in its divinity, tonight."
|
|
By this point her logic has become too private for
|
|
the man. He interrupts her, impatiently.
|
|
3AS
|
|
|
|
208
|
|
The disappearance and leave-
|
|
taking of the anges. Viewed in
|
|
profile, the crocession of ancely
|
|
takes its leave, rapidly, each in turn
|
|
ween the Conten
|
|
then they fiy on, dive and
|
|
disappear. Who is left? The infant
|
|
father, sested and hall.aseeo: the
|
|
mother, recumbent; the sheep and
|
|
lambs lying down, the sheparos.
|
|
awestruck: the ox and the ass at
|
|
their manger: for some reason the
|
|
are all static. Nothing moves except
|
|
the angels. The flesh is there, and
|
|
the messengers are finishing their
|
|
workine day. They sach take a bon
|
|
as they exit, like actors at the end
|
|
ot a play. Please applaud
|
|
Gotto (1265-1357. Hatvity
|
|
Arena Chapel, Padua, Italy.
|
|
|
|
MIDNIGHT
|
|
"Here's the baby," he says.
|
|
Pia cradles it in her arms.
|
|
Pantope arrives and takes in the scene. Then he leads
|
|
the young mother to the airport medical center. She is
|
|
supported by the Basque shepherds, who are as strong as
|
|
bulls and as light as birds. They follow Pia, who leads the
|
|
way carrying the baby. They make a kind of procession,
|
|
and the Iraqi scientists open a way through the crowd.
|
|
The muzak plays endlessly.
|
|
"Glory be to this ordinary child," Pantope murmurs in
|
|
Pia's ear.
|
|
"What use is glory?" she asks.
|
|
"In their millions, and for all time, Newtown and
|
|
Oldtown have been dying of violence, and probably of
|
|
it alone: rivalries, wars, torture, oppression, killings,
|
|
dripping off every level of its vertical ladder. Read the
|
|
violence on all these faces, both the arrogant ones and
|
|
the oppressed, the gods of the West and the mortals of
|
|
the South."
|
|
He points to the two sections of the crowd before
|
|
them.
|
|
"That is regrettably true! But why do they go on
|
|
killing each other?"
|
|
"For the strength that glory gives, and for the vain-
|
|
glory that power offers."
|
|
"If only they were to sign a perpetual peace, we
|
|
could resolve the problem of evil...
|
|
"An unrealizable dream, a paradisaical Utopia!"
|
|
"So how are we to arrive at a truce between us? If
|
|
our wars devastate us for the sake of glory, we would
|
|
have to move to a point where glory was no longer
|
|
something to be desired."
|
|
"Impossible! The percentage of mentally sick peo-
|
|
ple who live only for glory has remained stable
|
|
throughout time. Could there even be coherent history
|
|
without the enticement of glory?"
|
|
"If we can't eradicate this scourge, couldn't we at
|
|
least set its price too high?"
|
|
"What would you propose?"
|
|
"When a father wants his children not to be able to
|
|
reach pots of jam or medicines, because his offspring
|
|
covet them and run the risk of a belly-ache, he puts
|
|
them on top of the highest available cupboard."
|
|
"But the kids are clever. They climb up on stools.
|
|
And at that point begins a game which the father
|
|
always loses. No matter how high he puts the forbid-
|
|
den object, the child who is willing to defy him can
|
|
reach it. Like all simple-minded parents, you've lost."
|
|
"Not at all. All one has to do is reverse the roles and
|
|
there one finds the winning strategy of the absolute
|
|
superlative: no matter how high the would-be burglar
|
|
hoists himself, glory will always be above him, will
|
|
always be out of reach. The object is situated at a level
|
|
which is so much in excelsis, so high in the heavens, that
|
|
nobody can reach it."
|
|
"All High, as they say of the Good Lord."
|
|
"To him alone be the power and the glory!"
|
|
"In light inaccessible. I see."
|
|
"Since none of us can ever attain them, there you
|
|
have peace restored. We no longer have any reason for
|
|
killing each other, because nobody can hope to reach
|
|
those heights."
|
|
"Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth to
|
|
men of goodwill. In other words: if our will becomes
|
|
sufficiently good for us to make an agreement between
|
|
us to accord glory only to a transcendent absent being,
|
|
then we will be able to live in peace.
|
|
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
"All the ladders, both the good but above all the
|
|
evil, which we have ascended and descended today are
|
|
infinite in this respect."
|
|
"All your complicated words are in fact saying
|
|
something very simple. Namely that no matter how
|
|
high a pretentious person attempts to reach, his feet still
|
|
stay on the ground, and his head will always be
|
|
beneath the level of God's glory."
|
|
"Whether complicated or simple, this brings our
|
|
day to an end. All hierarchy collapses."
|
|
"And at that point, the machine for fabricating gods
|
|
(the machine which also produces violence and war)
|
|
comes to a standstill.
|
|
"This unique solution to the problem of evil thus leads
|
|
"In the end of the sabbath, as it
|
|
began to dawn toward the first
|
|
day of the week, came Mary
|
|
Magdalene and the other Mary to
|
|
see the sepulchre.
|
|
"And, behold, there was a great
|
|
earthquake. Tor the anger of the
|
|
Lord descended from heaven, and
|
|
came and rolled back the stone
|
|
Com the score no wilted t
|
|
not to a demonstration of the existence of God, but to the
|
|
His countenance was like
|
|
fact that it is necessary for him to exist, and to the refuta- lightning, and his raiment white as
|
|
tion of polytheism, which is what dominates us today.
|
|
snow:
|
|
"Without a God who is one and unique, and with-
|
|
out his exclusive glory-these being the sole founda-
|
|
"And for fear of him the
|
|
keepers did shake, and became as
|
|
tions of peace— the war of all against everyone will con-
|
|
tinue to rage."
|
|
'And the Angel answered and
|
|
said unto the women, fear not ye:
|
|
They now arrive at the medical center, where Gabriel's
|
|
body rests.
|
|
"A passion and a nativity, together in one single
|
|
day," he muses.
|
|
"Ah!" she replies, dazzled, "let us rejoice in the re-
|
|
surrection."
|
|
Meanwhile, the shepherds with their rugby-player
|
|
shoulders are less intimidated, and being in rowdy
|
|
mood they begin singing Basque mountain songs at
|
|
the tops of their voices.
|
|
which was crucified,
|
|
"He is not here: for he is
|
|
risen..
|
|
(Matthew 28:1-6)
|
|
The Angel Appears to the Holy
|
|
Jumièges, c. 1050. Ms. 274.
|
|
Bibliothèque municipale, Rouen,
|
|
France.
|
|
|
|
LEGEND
|
|
The reader:
|
|
"Why should we be interested in angels nowadays?"
|
|
The author:
|
|
"Because our universe is organized around message-
|
|
bearing systems, and because, as message-bearers, they are
|
|
more numerous, complex and sophisticated than Hermes,
|
|
who was was only one person, and a cheat and a thief to boot.
|
|
"Each angel is a bearer of one or more relationships;
|
|
today they exist in myriad forms, and every day we invent
|
|
billions of new ones. However we lack a philosophy of such
|
|
relationships.
|
|
"Instead of weaving networks of things or of beings, let
|
|
us therefore map some of the interlacings of paths. The angels
|
|
are unceasingly drawing up the maps of our new universe."
|
|
"Before getting on to things quite so erudite, I wonder
|
|
whether you could provide me with a key, in order to make it
|
|
easier for me to read your book."
|
|
"Since an angel is himself a skeleton key, he offers some-
|
|
thing even better: a whole bunch of keys!"
|
|
"A bunch of keys?"
|
|
"As messenger, he is able to pass through space, time and
|
|
walls; he keeps watch; he passes through closed doors. Noth-
|
|
ing stands in his way. Follow him."
|
|
"What are the stages through which he passes?"
|
|
"The dialog headed Morning describes them and their
|
|
functioning: a new labor-process, of message-bearing, a
|
|
recent outcome of a hard-borne history; from this derives the
|
|
organization of the City, which is new, vertical and global,
|
|
|
|
LEGEND
|
|
and maybe angelic or arrogant; a production of messages
|
|
according to a less rigid scale of degrees; an activity on the
|
|
part of messengers, who appear and disappear; the existence
|
|
of guardians, who provide assistance to the producers of
|
|
messages; and finally prepositions, which are active ele-
|
|
ments of messages, which are message-bearing entities in
|
|
themselves, and which are pre-posed agents and subsequently
|
|
nodes in the network of message-bearing systems."
|
|
"But doesn't this functioning process pose questions of
|
|
ethics in, for example, the injustice of that City and the code
|
|
of conduct by which these messengers operate?"
|
|
"After the anguished excursus on life and death heard at
|
|
Midday, the time of the Angelus, the Afternoon deals with
|
|
the following: we live in a world that is tending towards
|
|
angelism in its fluxes and its messages; there are interchang-
|
|
ers or cherubim in that world, which make the message-
|
|
bearing system universal, and which should, in that process,
|
|
be generating equalization, a balancing-out, a mixing which
|
|
is both homogeneous and strongly differentiated, and thus
|
|
social equity. So how does it happen that, quite the contrary,
|
|
it is heading to more bestial evil, to more false gods and to
|
|
more devilish wrath, to the constitution of more crushing
|
|
degrees of power and dominion, to an injustice that is even
|
|
more vicious than all its predecessors?
|
|
"There, if you like, is how the problem of evil presents
|
|
itself today."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"Because our all-powerful science and our new, effica-
|
|
cious and rehable technologies mean that we ourselves are
|
|
responsible for our destiny."
|
|
"Does that mean that we too are angels?"
|
|
"We communicate among ourselves at the speed of light;
|
|
we travel at the speed of sound; and we transform others and
|
|
the world by our words!"
|
|
"And what about evil?"
|
|
"The fall of angels-our fall—-places it right at center-
|
|
stage.
|
|
"It reveals some bizarre reversals. From 'for' to' against'.
|
|
Like the fluxes and the elements. The reversals include
|
|
appearances and disappearances, the necessity but the cruelty
|
|
of our guardians, the transformation of beauty into beast, of
|
|
victims into torturers, of upright citizens into abominable
|
|
gods... from which derive the extraordinary problems in
|
|
judging: you might as well try to cut a coin in half in an
|
|
attempt to separate the components of its alloy!"
|
|
"But in the final analysis, do you really not judge
|
|
things?"
|
|
"Satan, which is a Hebreto name, translates into English
|
|
as public attorney or public prosecutor. It way happen that
|
|
the activity of message-bearing drifts off into acls of accusa-
|
|
tion."
|
|
"I agree, and, as a bystander, I see this pao. suppening
|
|
every day."
|
|
"So therefore it would be better to open doors. Iy weans
|
|
of Mercy, rather than concluding cases n...'
|
|
undge-
|
|
ment and sending people to prison."
|
|
"How does your key open these doors
|
|
"The angel makes it possible, simmitmeast, noth to
|
|
understand, by means of refined tech phs ter tand wing
|
|
of things, of men and of tools, and to expos arosabry, sire
|
|
thing. That is why we have a day.
|
|
acts, divided at midday."
|
|
"So what's your solution, if you dor? say
|
|
"This is given in the sections heric wis have ta Mat
|
|
night, in the absent light of Lisming up Yins, t n
|
|
Satanic light-bearer, a mobile which haras, dra's cod arter
|
|
mixes. It reveals true Justice, which m is es moosity 24
|
|
2M
|
|
|
|
LEGEND
|
|
Mercy, as a passage-way to the ecstatic love of seraphim,
|
|
melted and fused, and, above all, to equality, at the lowest of
|
|
low points, around the new-born child, at Christmas, among
|
|
the simple and the wretched of this world, thom our book, at
|
|
Dawn, chose to call archangels.
|
|
"This equality or equity, these circles, turn, at random,
|
|
on themselves, according to how the draught blows. They
|
|
bring together the ner-born child, who is announced before
|
|
Midday by the little Angélique, and Gabriel, who died at the
|
|
medical center. They resolve the iniquity and injustice of the
|
|
scales and degrees— vertical and arrogant— of power and of
|
|
glory.
|
|
"When the word becomes flesh, the angel, a messenger of
|
|
pure language, restores all glory to All-High, and retires;
|
|
being invisible, he has a vocation for detachment."
|
|
"Would you say that this universal key has enabled you to
|
|
write an open book?™
|
|
"Are you familiar with the small watertight lockers in
|
|
submarines and caissons, which enable you to pass from
|
|
water into air, or from one level to the next?"
|
|
"Airlocks?"
|
|
"So, imagine a skeleton key for all imaginable airlocks,
|
|
and there you have angelic universality!"
|
|
"Before you begin showing off, I want to see the shape of
|
|
the key!"
|
|
"Have you ever felt, in your hair, on your skin, before
|
|
your eyes and in your ears, an insight like a pool of light, a
|
|
globe with millions of facets, a high, roaring waterfall on a
|
|
river, the myriad gusts of a squalling wind?"
|
|
The reader is at a loss.
|
|
"There, you've lost me again! Are you talking about an
|
|
apparition?"
|
|
"Both of apparitions and dis-apparitions, all together."
|
|
"Of light?"
|
|
"Yes, but also of wind, of all the fluxes of nature!"
|
|
"Of a person?"
|
|
"Yes, since it sometimes happens that he bears a name:
|
|
Raphael, Gabriel and Michael."
|
|
"Only sometimes?"
|
|
"Yes, because most often this person is multiplied into
|
|
innumerable entities. When individuated, this person speaks;
|
|
as a choir it plays music and sings; as a crowd, it buzzes."
|
|
"This person thus fluctuates between the collective and
|
|
the individual."
|
|
"Masses of angels, a swarming, multitudes, an army, a
|
|
troop, a procession, a parade... a barely ordered chaos, from
|
|
within which individualities may sometimes emerge. Angels
|
|
80 up and down an immense ladder, or scale of degrees, or
|
|
river along which is constructed, and then incarnated, the
|
|
Word-ranging between noise, music, annunciation and
|
|
dialog, and extending through to the flesh."
|
|
"Spirits?"
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
"Ideas?"
|
|
"Yes, again: ideas are idols, and they bear their name.
|
|
Now, it is said that angels embody traces of the false gods, and
|
|
that if they fall they become objects of pain worship. ideas,
|
|
therefore, beginnings of spirits."
|
|
"Breaths of wind, then?"
|
|
"Yes, always. A big wind deployed in billions of particles,
|
|
ever-finer, fluxes which are scattered and everywhere inter-
|
|
connected, volatile transports linking the universe by means
|
|
of their rivers."
|
|
"Are they physical or spiritual in nature?"
|
|
"Both. Fluxes in movement in the ocean, the atmosphere
|
|
and the climate; as armies of starry constellations, spirits and
|
|
messages, global and immaterial, they once again unite these
|
|
|
|
LEGEND
|
|
two realms, which, thanks to them, are inseparable and which
|
|
to read our present era like an open book: our sciences, both
|
|
formerly were stupidly separated."
|
|
abstract and practical, our hardware and software technolo-
|
|
"Intelligent?
|
|
gies-all our activities, both concrete and volatile.
|
|
"Certainly: as much so as human beings. Objects, the
|
|
"By the reverse token, these shed on these old angelic
|
|
world and sophisticated machinery are also intelligent."
|
|
forms a light that is new and, curiously, close to us. One
|
|
"Corporeal?"
|
|
might say that these are two mirrors which, when put face to
|
|
"They may be; but they all meet together on Christmas
|
|
face, multiply clarity, in white and in colors.
|
|
night to celebrate the incarnation of the new mediator."
|
|
"So why don't you go back to that simple insight of a
|
|
"These ancient mediators thus provide a perfect image for
|
|
globe or pool of light. Start with that."
|
|
our telegraph operators, postmen, translators, representatives,
|
|
"It brings together a very intricate tangle of meanings."
|
|
commentators.... the armies of our new labor processes."
|
|
"This interlacing is a fine airlock or interchanger! Do
|
|
"Absolutely."
|
|
you believe that you can find a better zany of grasping the
|
|
"But also fiber optics, and the intelligent machines that
|
|
meaning of words of philosophy, distinguished or detailed by
|
|
we have built to connect networks between them: switchers
|
|
a vocabulary whose nets are holed letting everything pass
|
|
and routers?"
|
|
through?"
|
|
"Of course, and more besides: cherubim with several
|
|
"That being the case, might these metaphors relieve you,
|
|
bodies, whether physical, living, human, artificial or in the
|
|
for example, of a treatise on cognitive science or philosophy of
|
|
realm of ideas..interchangers, interchangers, airlocks or keys... there we
|
|
language?"
|
|
have some fine new concepts to enable us better to produce
|
|
"What a relief!"
|
|
and understand."
|
|
"Of an ethics?"
|
|
"So your angels are individual and multiple; messengers
|
|
"Have you seen angels fall?"
|
|
that both appear and disappear; visible and invisible; con-
|
|
"Of a sociology of work?"
|
|
structive of messages and message-bearing systems; spirit
|
|
"And above all, of public holidays."
|
|
and body; spiritual and physical; of two sexes and of none;
|
|
"Of a physics of the Earth and of a climatology?"
|
|
natural and manufactured; collective and social; both orderly
|
|
"As workers or operators, angels construct the human,
|
|
and disorderly; producers of noise, music and language;
|
|
technological and physical universe."
|
|
intermediaries and interchangers; intelligence that can be
|
|
"Of a cosmology?"
|
|
found in the world's objects and artefacts... You must
|
|
"In nascent state."
|
|
admit that your angels are elusive. What's more, sometimes
|
|
"Of theology?"
|
|
they can be very evil!"
|
|
"Trust to God!"
|
|
"Their form is generally fairly adaptable. That form is the
|
|
"So what does it not say?"
|
|
skeleton key which enables them to open the blackest boxes,
|
|
"Who cares for categories such as these! Their only pur-
|
|
and this wealth of different forms extends to embrace all the
|
|
pose is to shroud themselves in a terrifying vocabulary in
|
|
different aspects that you have just listed and thus enables us
|
|
order to protect privilege and corporate interests. Since, as
|
|
|
|
LEGEND
|
|
people say, today we are seeing the dissolution of philosophy,
|
|
we find ourselves once again living the times of original
|
|
beginnings. Here glitters a vast and interconnected pool, here
|
|
flows a torrent of shimmering brilliance, seized at the
|
|
moment of its commencement."
|
|
"How are these things to be expressed, explained or
|
|
painted?"
|
|
"I have tried my best."
|
|
"In a fable or a philosophical dialog? A romantic novel or
|
|
a statement of opinion? A piece of theater, with its three uni-
|
|
ties? A film screenplay..?"
|
|
"All those are precisely how I'd have liked you to read
|
|
this book. Anyway, have you ever tried are welding?"
|
|
"Eh….?"
|
|
"It produces a sudden bright flash of light, which leaves
|
|
on two pieces of metal a scar, the color of which goes from blue
|
|
to cherry red, and it rather resembles the aforementioned
|
|
insight and pool of light."
|
|
"What are you attempting to unify or join, with this hot
|
|
fusion?"
|
|
"Several things, in fact: stience and the wretched of the
|
|
earth, nature and cultures, roason and religions...."
|
|
"But the Enlightenment taught us to separate these."
|
|
"...and the local differences between them.….."
|
|
"But this century of ours has taught us to study their
|
|
singularities, independently."
|
|
"...and finally, the one and the multiple!"
|
|
"But, yesterday again, the latter banned the former!"
|
|
"There you have it: knowledge unceasingly changes its
|
|
form, flesh, content and light!"
|
|
"Are we heading towards a new universe?"
|
|
"Yes, on the wings of angels, who are its workers."
|
|
"Will we come back down?"
|
|
"That remains to be seen!"
|
|
"You're dreaming again... Anyway, now I understand
|
|
why you described messengers of all kinds as angels; and our
|
|
leaders both great and small as Powers, Thrones and Domin-
|
|
ions; and interchangers, whether techological, living or ver-
|
|
bal, as multi-bodied cherubim; and lovers as supreme
|
|
seraphim. But in this classification of the tradition, whose
|
|
sum comprises the general message-bearing system, I don't
|
|
understand why, right at the start, you showed us a named
|
|
archangel appearing, and then dying, and why he had to be a
|
|
wretched doson-and-out."
|
|
"Because the word arche also means beginning", and
|
|
therefore because destitute poverty and exclusion stand at the
|
|
source almast as precursors of the future world that is
|
|
coming into being, in the same way that deathly violence has
|
|
been the foundation of human history,"
|
|
"One question, before you leave. What happens to Pantope
|
|
and Pia?"
|
|
"She becomes a doctor of the world. She travels, and
|
|
knows no frontiers. Pantope, on the other hand, has recently
|
|
been appointed to a post at the airport, where he waits to zuel-
|
|
come her on her return.
|
|
"I overheard them saying to each other:
|
|
'Pia, whom or what will you be looking for, when you
|
|
travel?'
|
|
"Pantope, whom or what will you be waiting for, at the
|
|
airport?'
|
|
"And I heard them answer, almost together:
|
|
"We have found something which, even if it disappears,
|
|
toe will never lose!" |