Transcript
Claire Parnethow literature happens, passing through desert periods. On that hopeful note, we pass on to "D." So, for "D," I need to refer to this page since I am going to read what's in the Larousse. . . In the Petit Larousse Illustré, [a French dictionary], "Deleuze, Gilles, French philosopher, born in Paris in 1927. . ." Uh, "1925," excuse me. . .
So they've put me in the Larousse now, eh?
Claire ParnetWell, this is [the] 1988 [edition]. . .
They change things every year, the Larousse. . .
Claire Parnet"With Félix Guattari, they show the importance of desire and its revolutionary aspect confronting all institutions, even psychoanalytic." For the work demonstrating all this, they cite Anti-Oedipus, 1972. So precisely, since everyone wants you to pass for the philosopher of desire, I want you to talk about desire. What is desire, exactly? Let's consider the question as simply as possible. When Anti-Oedipus. . .
It's not what they thought it was, in any case, not what they thought it was, even back then. Even, I mean, the most charming people who were. . . It was a big ambiguity, it was a big misunderstanding, or rather a little one, a little misunderstanding. I believe that we wanted to say something very simple. In fact, we had an enormous ambition, notably when one writes a book, we thought that we would say something new, specifically that one way or another, people who wrote before us didn't understand what desire meant. That is, in undertaking our task as philosophers, we were hoping to propose a new concept of desire. But, regarding concepts, people who don't do philosophy mustn't think that they are so abstract. . . On the contrary, they refer to things that are extremely simple, extremely concrete, we'll see this later. . . There are no philosophical concepts that do not refer to non-philosophical coordinates. It's very simple, very concrete. What we wanted to express was the simplest thing in the world. We wanted to say: up until now, you speak abstractly about desire because you extract an object that's presumed to be the object of your desire. So, one could say, I desire a woman, I desire to leave on a trip, I desire this, that. And we were saying something really very simple, simple, simple: You never desire someone or something, you always desire an aggregate. It's not complicated. Our question was: what is the nature of relations between elements in order for there to be desire, for these elements to become desirable? I mean, I don't desire a woman-I am ashamed to say things like that since Proust already said it, and it's beautiful in Proust: I don't desire a woman, I also desire a landscape that is enveloped in this woman, a landscape that, if needs be-I don't know- but that I can feel. As long as I haven't yet unfolded the landscape that envelops her, I will not be happy, that is, my desire will not have been attained, my desire will remain unsatisfied. I believe in an aggregate with two terms: womanIlandscape, and it's something completely different. If a woman says, "I desire a dress," or "I desire (some) thing" or "(some) blouse," it's obvious that she does not desire this dress or that blouse in the abstract. She desires it in an entire context, a context of her own life that she is going to organize, the desire in relation not only with a landscape, but with people who are her friends, with people who are not her friends, with her profession, etc. I never desire some thing all by itself, I don't desire an aggregate either, I desire from within an aggregate. So we can return to something we were discussing earlier, about alcohol, drinking. Drinking never meant solely "I desire to drink" and that's it. It means, either I desire to drink all alone while working, or drink all alone while relaxing, or going out to find friends to have a drink, go to some little café. In other words, there is no desire that does not flow-I mean this precisely-flow within an assemblage. Such that desire has always been for me- I am looking for the abstract term that corresponds to desire- it has always been constructivism. To desire is to construct an assemblage, to construct an aggregate: the aggregate of a skirt, of a sun ray,
Claire Parneta woman
Of a street, an assemblage of a woman, of a vista. . .
Claire Parnet. . . of a color. . .
. . .of a color, that's what desire is: constructing an assemblage, constructing a region, really, to assemble. Desire is a constructivism. So, I say that, we, in Anti-Oedipus, we were trying. . .
Claire ParnetCan I . . .?
Yes?
Claire ParnetIs it because desire is an assemblage that you needed to be two in order to create it? In an aggregate, where Félix was necessary, who emerged then to help write?
Did it. . . well, perhaps that will be more connected to what we have to discuss about friendship, of the relationship between philosophy and something that concerns friendship. . . But certainly, with Félix, we created an assemblage, yes. . .. There are assemblages all alone, I repeat, and then there are assemblages with two people-Félix, everything I did with Félix was a shared assemblage, in which something passed between both of us. That is, all of this concerns physical phenomena. In order for an event to occur, a difference of potential is necessary, and for there to be a difference of potential, two levels are required, so that something occurs, a flash occurs or a flash doesn't occur, or a little stream. . . And that's in the domain of desire. That's what a desire is, constructing. Every one of us spends hisIher time constructing. . . When anyone says, every time anyone says, I desire this or that, that means that heIshe is in the process of constructing an assemblage, and it's nothing else, desire is nothing else.
Claire ParnetSo, precisely, is it just by chance that, since desire exists in an aggregate, in an assemblage, that Anti-Oedipus, where you talk about desire, where you start to talk about desire, is the first book you wrote with someone else. . . that is, with Félix Guattari?
Yes, you are quite right. . . No doubt, we had to enter into what was a new assemblage for us, to write as two, that each of us did not interpret or live in the same way, so that something might "pass." And if something "passed," this was finally a fundamental reaction, hostility against the dominant conceptions of desire, the psychoanalytical conceptions. We had to be two, Félix who had been in psychoanalysis, myself interested in this subject, we needed all that so that we could say we had the possibility here of a constructive, constructivist concept of desire.
Claire ParnetCan you define better, maybe quickly, simply, how you see the difference between this constructivism and analytical interpretation?. . . Are there any. . .
It's quite simple, I think, it's quite simple, given our position regarding psychoanalysis. . . There are multiple facets, but in terms of the problem of desire, really psychoanalysts speak of desire exactly like priests talk about it- this is not the only comparison- they are psychoanalyst-priests. And they talk about it under the guise of the great wailing about castration- castration, it's worse than original sin, castration is. . . It's a kind of enormous curse on desire that is quite precisely frightening. What did we try to do in Anti-Oedipus? I think there are three main points directly opposed to psychoanalysis. These three points are-well, for me and I think for Félix Guattari as well, we would change none of them at all. The three points are: 1 ) We are persuaded that the unconscious is not a theater, not a place where Hamlet and Oedipus interminably play out their scenes. It's not a theater, but a factory, it's production. . . The unconscious produces there, incessantly produces. . . It functions like a factory, it's the very opposite of the psychoanalytical vision of the unconscious as a theater where it's always a question of Hamlet or Oedipus moving about constantly, infinitely. . . 2) The second theme is that delirium, which is very closely linked to desire- to desire is to become delirious to some extent. . . If you look at delirium whatever it might be about, any delirium whatsoever, it is exactly the contrary of what psychoanalysis has latched onto about it, that is, we don't go into delirium about the father or mother. Rather, one "délires" about something completely different; this is the great secret of delirium, we "délire" about the whole world. That is, one "délires" about history, geography, tribes, deserts, peoples,
Claire ParnetClimates. . .
. . . races , climates, that's what we "délire" about. The world of delirium is, "I am an animal, a Negro," Rimbaud. It's: where are my tribes, how are my tribes arranged, surviving in the desert, etc.? The desert. . . uh, delirium is geographical-political; psychoanalysis links it always to familial determinants. Even after so many years since Anti-Oedipus, I maintain that psychoanalysis never understood anything at all about a phenomenon of delirium. One "délires" the world and not one's little family. And all this intersects: when I referred to literature not being someone's little private affair, it comes down to the same thing: delirium as well is not a delirium focused on the father and mother. 3) The third point, it returns to desire: desire always establishes itself, always constructs assemblages there and establishes itself in an assemblage, always putting several factors into play, and psychoanalysis ceaselessly reduces us to a single factor, always the same, sometimes the father, sometimes the mother, sometimes the phallus, etc. It is completely ignorant of what the multiple is, completely ignorant of constructivism, that is, of assemblages. I'll give some examples. We were talking about the animal earlier. For psychoanalysis, the animal is the image of the father, let's say, a horse is the image of the father. It's a fucking joke. I think of the example of Little Hans, a child about whom Freud rendered an opinion. . . He witnesses a horse falling in the street and the wagon driver who beats the horse with a whip, and the horse is twitching all around, kicking out. . . Before cars, automobiles, this was a common spectacle in the streets, something quite impressive for a child. The first time a child sees a horse fall in the street and a half-drunk driver trying to revive it by whipping it, that must have caused such an emotion. . . It was something happening in the street, the event in the street, sometimes a very bloody event. Then you hear the psychoanalysts talking about the image of the father, etc., it's in their heads that things get confused. Desire does not concern a horse fallen and beaten in the street, dying in the street, etc.; rather it's an assemblage, a fantastic assemblage for a child, it's disturbing to the very core. Another example I could choose, another example: we were talking about the animal. What is an animal? There is no single animal that could be the image of the father. Animals usually group together in a pack, there are packs. There is case that gives me a lot of pleasure, in a text that I adore by Jung, who broke off from Freud after a long collaboration. Jung told Freud that he had a dream about an ossuary, and Freud literally understood nothing. He told Jung constantly, "if you dream about a bone, it means the death of someone." But Jung never stopped telling him, "I didn't tell you about a bone, I dreamt about an ossuary." Freud didn't get it. He couldn't distinguish between an ossuary and a bone, that is. . . An ossuary is one hundred bones, a thousand bones, ten thousand bones. . . That's what a multiplicity is, that's what an assemblage is. I am walking in an ossuary. . . What does that mean? Where does desire "pass"? In an assemblage, it's always a collective, a kind of constructivism, etc., that's what desire is. Where does my desire "pass" among these thousand skulls, these thousand bones? Where does my desire "pass" in the pack? What is my position in the pack? Am I outside the pack, alongside, inside, at the center? All these things are phenomena of desire. That's what desire is.
Claire ParnetThis collective assemblage precisely. . . Since Anti-Oedipus is a book that was written in 1972, the collective assemblage came at an appropriate moment after May '68, that is, it was a reflection. . .
Exactly.
Claire Parnet. . . of that particular period, and against psychoanalysis that maintained its little affair. . .?
One can only say: delirium "délires" races and tribes, it "délires" peoples, it "délires" history and geography-all that seems to me to correspond precisely to May '68. That is, it seems to me, [May '68 was] an attempt to introduce a little bit of fresh air into the fetid, stifling atmosphere of familial deliriums. People saw quite clearly that this is what delirium was. . . If I am going to get delirious, it won't be about my childhood, about my little private affair. We "délire". . . Delirium is cosmic, one "délires" about the ends of the world, about particles, about electrons, not about papa and mama, obviously.
Claire ParnetWell, precisely about this collective assemblage of desire, I recall several misunderstandings. . . I remember at Vincennes in the 1970s, at the university, there were people who put into practice this "desire" that resulted instead in kinds of collective infatuations, as if they never really understood very well. So I would like. . . Or more precisely, because there were a lot of "crazies" at Vincennes. . . Since you started from schizoanalysis to fight against psychoanalysis, everybody thought that it was quite fine to be crazy, to be schizo. . . So we saw some incredible things among the students, and I would like you to tell me some funny stories, or not so funny ones, about these misunderstandings regarding desire.
Well, the misunderstandings. . . I can perhaps consider the misunderstandings more abstractly. The misunderstandings generally were connected to two points, two cases, which were more or less the same: some people thought that desire was a form of spontaneity, so there were all sorts of movements of "spontaneity"; and others thought desire was an occasion for partying. For us, it was neither one nor the other, but that had little importance since assemblages got created, even the crazies, the crazies, the crazies-there were so many, all kinds, they were part of what was happening then at Vincennes. But the crazies, they had their own discipline, their own way of. . . they made their speeches, they made their interventions, and they also entered into an assemblage, they constructed their own assemblage, and they did very well in the assemblage. There was a kind of guile, comprehension, a general good will of the crazies. But, if you prefer, on the level of theory, practically . . . These were assemblages that were established and that fell apart. Theoretically, the misunderstanding was to say: Ok, desire is spontaneity, hence the name they were called, the spontaneists; or it's partying, and that's not what it was. The so-called philosophy of desire consisted only in telling people: don't go get psychoanalyzed, never interpret, go experienceIexperiment with assemblages, search out the assemblages that suit you, let each person search. . . So, what was an assemblage? For me, an assemblage-for Félix, it's not, that he thought something else, but it was perhaps. . . I don't know- but for me, I would maintain that there were four components of an assemblage, if you wish. . . This said very very roughly, so I am not tied to it, maybe there are six. . . 1 ) An assemblage referred to "states of things," so that each of us might find the "state of things" that suits us. For example, earlier, for drinking, I like this café, I don't like that café, the people that are in a particular café, etc., that's a "state of things." 2) Another dimension of assemblages: "les énoncés," types of statements, each person has a kind of style, hisIher way of talking. So, it's between the two things. In the café, for example, there are friends, and one has a certain way of talking with one's friends, so each café has its style-I say the café, but that applies to all kinds of other things. Ok, so an assemblage encompasses "states of things" and then "statements," styles of enunciation . . . Eh.. it's really interesting. . . That's what History is made of. When does a new kind of statement appear. . . For example, in the Russian revolution, when did statements of a Leninist kind appear, how, in what form? In May '68, when did the first kinds of so-called '68 statements appear? It's very complex. In any case, every assemblage implies styles of enunciation. 3) An assemblage implies territories, each of us chooses or creates a territory, even just walking into a room, one chooses a territory. I walk into a room that I don't know, I look for a territory, that is, the spot where I feel the best in the room. 4) And then there are processes of what one has to call deterritorialization, that is, the way one leaves the territory. I would say that an assemblage encompasses these four dimensions: states of things, enunciations, territories, movements of deterritorialization. It's within these [components] that desire flows. So. . . the crazies. . .
Claire ParnetDid you feel particularly responsible for people who took drugs, who might have read Anti-Oedipus a bit too literally? Because, I mean, it's not a problem, it's not like someone who incites young people to commit stupid acts.
One always feels quite responsible for anyone for whom things went badly. . .
Claire ParnetWhat were the effects of Anti-Oedipus?
.. and I always tried to do what I could so that things went well. In any case, I believe-it's my point of honor- I never tried being cagey about those things. I never told a student to go on, it's ok, go get stoned, but always tried to do all that I could to help people make it through. For I am entirely too aware of the slightest thing that might suddenly push someone over and reduce himIher to a pulp-like state. If they drink, ok. . . I could never cast blame on anyone. . . Whatever they did, I just don't have the desire to cast blame. . . But, I felt that one had to watch for the moment when things were no longer acceptable. Let them drink, let them take drugs, let them do what they want. That is, we aren't cops, nor are we their fathers. I wasn't expected to prevent anything, but I tried nonetheless to keep them from being reduced to pulp. Whenever there is a risk, I can't stand it. I can stand a person taking drugs, but a person taking drugs to such an extent that he reaches, I don't know, a wild state, that's it, I tell myself, he's going to crack up. I can't stand it, especially young people. . . You referred to young people, I can't stand a young person cracking up, it's just unbearable. An old man who cracks up, who commits suicide even, he at least has already lived his life, but a young person who cracks up, out of stupidity, out of carelessness, because he drinks too much, because of, etc. . . . So I was always divided between the impossibility of finding fault with anyone and the absolute desire, or rather the absolute refusal, that anyone might be reduced to pulp. So, you know, it's a thin line. I cannot say that there are principles that apply, one just deals with each case, and it's true that the role of people in those moments is to try to save these young kids as much as one can. And saving them doesn't mean making them walk the straight and narrow, it means preventing them from heading towards being reduced to pulp. That's all I can say.
Claire ParnetNo, but it was about the effects of Anti-Oedipus, were there any?
That's it, that's it, prevent people from being reduced to pulp, from anyone at that time developing the early stages of schizophrenia, [prevent them] either from falling into a condition where they get thrown into a repressive hospital, all that, or someone who couldn't stand [alcohol] anymore. . . an alcoholic. . . going off the deep end, to do everything so that he might stop, stop. . .
Claire ParnetWas it nonetheless a revolutionary book to the extent that it seemed for the enemies of this book, the psychoanalysts, to be an apology for permissivity and to say that everything you said. . .?
Surely not. The book never was . . . I mean, when one reads this book, this book always marked out an extreme prudence. The book's lesson was: don't become a shredded rag. We never stopped opposing the schizophrenic process to the repressive hospital type, and for us, the Terror was in producing a "hospital creature." Nothing else counts. And I would nearly say that promoting the kinds of values of the "trip," what the anti- psychiatrists called the "trip" of the schizophrenic process, was precisely the way to prevent and ward off the production of pulp-like hospital creatures, that is, the production of schizophrenics, the fabrication of schizophrenics.
Claire ParnetDo you think, to finish with Anti-Oedipus, that this book still has effects today?
Yes, it's a good book, it's a good book, because it has a conception of the unconscious, in my opinion, the only case in which there was this kind of conception of the unconscious. I mean, with the two points, or the three points: 1 ) of multiplicities of the unconscious, 2) of delirium as world delirium, and not the family delirium, [but] the cosmic delirium, the delirium of races, the delirium of tribes, that's good; and 3) and the unconscious as a machine and a factory, not as a theater. I have nothing to change in these three points, and in my opinion, it remains absolutely new since all of psychoanalysis has been reconstituted. So, I believe, I hope that it's a book that will be rediscovered, perhaps, perhaps. . . I'll do a prayer for it to be rediscovered. . .