L'Abcdaire de Gilles Deleuze, avec Claire Parnet <Gilles Deleuze's ABC Primer, with Claire Parnet> Directed by Pierre-Andr

B utan! "#$$%&
Overview prepared by Charles J. Stivale, Romance Languages & Literatures, Wayne State niversity

Part '' - G thr u!h (

!" as in #"auche# $Le%t&, ' as in 'istory o% (hilosophy, ) as in )dea, J as in Joy, * as in *ant, L as in Literature, + as in #+aladie# $)llness&, $-he %ollowing is the second part o% a three.part overview o% the eight.hour series o% interviews between "illes /eleu0e and Claire (arnet that were %ilmed by (ierre.1ndr2 3outang in 4565. /estined to be broadcast only a%ter /eleu0e#s death, these interviews were shown with his permission on the 1rte channel between 7ovember 4558 and spring 4559, i.e. during the year prior to his death. Rather than provide a transcription and translation into :nglish, ) try to provide the main points o% the ;uestions posed by (arnet and /eleu0e#s responses, and all in%elicities and omissions are entirely my responsibility. See the summary o% the previous part %or details on the interview <set<.& 1t the end o% the previous letter, = as in =idelity !Loyalty,, /eleu0e says that all people only have charm through their madness !folie,. What is charming is the side o% someone that shows that they#re a bit unhinged !o ils perdent un peu les pdales,. )% you can#t grasp the small trace o% madness in someone, you can#t be their %riend. 3ut i% you grasp that small point o% insanity, <d2mence,< o% someone, the point where they are a%raid or even happy, that point o% madness is the very source o% his>her charm. 'e then pauses, smiles, and says? </#o@ #"#< !Which leads us to #"#,...

G as in 'Gauche' ")e*t&
(arnet reminds /eleu0e that although he comes %rom a bourgeois %amily with #right# political leanings, he has since the Liberation in 4589 been a #homme de gauche# !le%tist,, and she reminds him also that while so many o% his %riends Aoined the =rench Communist (arty !(C,, he never did. WhyB /eleu0e says, yes, they all went through the (C, and what prevented him %rom doing so was that he was always so hard.worCing $travailleur&, plus he simply could never stand attending all those meetingsD 'e reminds (arnet that this was at the period o% the #appel de StocCholm# !StocCholm 1ppeal,, and all o% his %riends, people o% great talent, spent all their time walCing around getting signatures on this petition... 1n entire generation got caught up in this, /eleu0e says, but that posed a problem %or him. 'e had a lot o% %riends who were Communist historians, and /eleu0e %elt that it would have been much more important %or the (C i% these %riends had spent their energy on %inishing their dissertations than getting signatures. So, he had no interest in that, nor was he very

talCative anyway, so all this petition.signing would have put him in a state o% complete panic. (arnet asCs i% /eleu0e nonetheless %elt close to the (arty#s commitments, and he says no, that they never concerned him, something else that saved him %rom all these discussions about Stalin, and about the revolution going wrong. /eleu0e chortles at this point, says who are they trying to Cid $de ;ui on se mo;ue&, all these #nouveauE philosophes# !7ew (hilosophers, who have discovered that the revolution went wrong, you really have to be dimwitted $dbile&, since that was evident with Stalin. /eleu0e pursues this line brutally? whoever thought that a revolution would go well, he asCsB WhoB WhoB (eople say the :nglish could not have a revolution, but that#s %alse? they did, they had Cromwell as a result, and all o% :nglish Romanticism, which is a long meditation on the %ailure o% the revolution. -hey didn#t wait %or 1ndr2 "lucCsmann, says /eleu0e, to re%lect on the %ailure o% the revolution. 1nd 1mericans never get discussed, they had their revolution, as much i% not more so than the 3olsheviCs. :ven be%ore the Revolutionary War, they presented this as a new notion and went beyond these notions eEactly liCe +arE spoCe later o% the proletariat? they led %orth a new people, and had a true revolution. Just as the +arEists discovered universal proletariati0ation, the 1mericans counted on universal immigration, the two means o% class struggle. -his is absolutely revolutionary, says /eleu0e, it#s the 1merica o% Je%%erson, o% +elville, an absolutely revolutionary 1merica that announced the #new man# Aust as the 3olsheviC revolution announced the #new man#. -hat revolution %ailed, all revolutions do, and now people are pretending to <rediscover< that. Fou really have to be dimwitted, /eleu0e repeats... :veryone is getting lost in this current revisionism. -here is =ranGois =uret who discovered that the =rench Revolution wasn#t as great as had been thought, that it %ailed. 3ut everybody Cnows that, the =rench Revolution gave us 7apoleonD (eople are maCing <discoveries< that, %or /eleu0e, are not very impressive through their novelty $on fait des dcouvertes qui ne sont pas trs mouvantes par leur nouveaut&. -he 3ritish Revolution resulted in Cromwell, the 1merican Revolution had worse results, the political parties, Reagan, which don#t seem any better. /eleu0e pursues this %arther? people are in such a state o% con%usion about revolutions %ailing, going bad. Fet that never prevented people %rom becoming revolutionary. /eleu0e argues that people are con%using two absolutely di%%erent things? the situation in which the only outcome %or man is to become revolutionary, it#s the con%usion between becoming and history, and i% people become revolutionary, that#s historians# con%usion. 'istorians, says /eleu0e, speaC o% the %uture o% the revolution, but that is not at all the ;uestion. -he concrete problem is how and why people become revolutionary, and %ortunately historians can#t prevent them %rom doing so. )t#s obvious, /eleu0e says, that the South 1%ricans are caught up in a becoming.revolutionary, the (alestinians as well. -hen, /eleu0e says, i% someone tells him a%ter that, even i% their revolution succeeds, it will go badly, /eleu0e responds? %irst o% all, they will not be the same Cinds o% problems, but new situations will eEist, becomings.revolutionary will be unleashed. -he business o% people in situations o% oppression and tyranny, argues /eleu0e, is to enter into becomings.revolutionary, and when someone says, <oh, it#s not worCing out,< we aren#t

talCing about the same thing, it#s as i% we were speaCing two di%%erent languages .. the %uture o% history and the %uture o% becomings are not at all the same thing, he concludes. HHHHH I-R17SL1-:/ S:C-)O7J I-R17SCR)3:/ S:C-)O7, )7 =R:7C'J (arnet picCs up another current issue !in 4566,, the respect %or the<rights o% man< $les droits de l'homme& which is so %ashionable, but is not revolutionary, ;uite the opposite. /eleu0e replies so%tly, even wearily, that he thinCs the respect %or the <rights o% man< belongs to this weaC thinCing $pense molle& o% the impoverished intellectual period that they discussed earlier !under <C as in Culture<,. )t#s purely abstract, says /eleu0e, these <rights o% man<, purely abstract, completely empty. )t#s liCe what he was trying to say about desire? desire does not consist o% erecting an obAect, o% saying ) desire this... we don#t desire an obAect, it#s 0eroK rather, we %ind ourselves in situations. /eleu0e taCes an eEample %rom the news, the 1rmenian situation? an enclave in another 1rmenian Soviet republic, a %irst stepK then there is a massacre by some sort o% -urCish group, so the 1rmenians retreat into their republic, and right then, there is an earth;uaCe. Fou#d thinC you were in something written by the +ar;uis de Sade, /eleu0e says, these poor people in these aw%ul circumstances. !/eleu0e gives this eEample as a set o% situations,. 'e continues that when people say <the rights o% man,< it#s Aust intellectual discourse, odious intellectuals at that, who have no ideas. /eleu0e insists that these declarations are never made as a %unction o% the people that are directly concerned, the 1rmenians, %or eEample. -heir problem is not the <rights o% man.< -his is what /eleu0e calls an <assemblage< $agencement&? what must one do to suppress this enclave or to maCe it possible %or this enclave to surviveB )t#s a ;uestion o% territory, not one o% the <rights o% man,< not a ;uestion o% Austice, but a ;uestion o% Aurisprudence. 1ll the abominations that humans undergo, says /eleu0e, are cases, not elements o% abstract law. -hese are abominable cases, Aust as the 1rmenian problem is an eEtremely compleE problem o% Aurisprudence, to save the 1rmenians or help them save themselves. -hen, an earth;uaCe occurs to con%use everything . -o act %or %reedom, becoming revolutionary, is to operate in Aurisprudence when one turns to the Austice system. So it#s not a ;uestion o% applying the <rights o% man,< but rather o% inventing %orms o% Aurisprudence, so that %or each case, this would no longer be possible. /eleu0e o%%ers an eEample to help eEplain what Aurisprudence is? he recalls when smoCing in taEis was %orbidden. 1t %irst, some re%used, and the whole matter became ;uite public because o% smoCers. )n an aside, /eleu0e mentions that i% he hadn#t studied philosophy, he would have studied law, but not the <rights o% man.< Rather he#d have studied Aurisprudence, it#s li%eK there are no <rights o% man,< says /eleu0e, only rights o% li%e, case by case. 'e returns to the taEi eEample? one day, some guy does not want to stop smoCing, so he sues the cab, the cab loses the case on the grounds that when someone taCes a taEi, he is renting it, and the renter has the right to smoCe in his rented location. -he taEi is assimilated to being a rolling apartment, and the customer is the renter. -en years later, the taEi is no longer assimilated in this way, it becomes assimilated instead to being a %orm o% public service, and no one has the right any more to smoCe.

So it#s a ;uestion o% situations that evolve, and %ighting %or %reedom is to engage in Aurisprudence. )n 1rmenia, what are the <rights o% man<B -he -urCs don#t have the right to massacre 1rmenians? how %ar does that really get usB )t#s the dimwitted or hypocrites really, /eleu0e argues, who have this idea o% the <rights o% man.< -he creation o% rights is the creation o% Aurisprudence and %ighting %or it. -hat#s what the le%t is, creating rights. HHHHHHH I:7/ o% -R17SL1-:/ S:C-)O7, see aboveJ (arnet a%%irms that this demand %or the <rights o% man< is liCe a denial o% +ay #L6 and a denial o% +arEism as well. Fet /eleu0e was never a Communist, and still he maCes use o% +arE who continues to be a re%erent %or him. 1nd /eleu0e, says (arnet, is one o% the last persons who has not said that +ay #L6 was nil, schoolroom pranCsK and ,everyone changes. She asCs him to talC a bit about +ay #L6. /eleu0e chides her, says she is too harsh, he is not one o% the last people, lots o% people thinC well o% +ay #L6. (arnet counters that these are his %riends. /eleu0e says still, lots o% people have not denied or recanted on +ay #L6. =or /eleu0e, +ay #L6 is simple? it#s an intrusion o% the real. (eople o%ten have wanted to view it as the reign o% the imaginary, but it#s really, says /eleu0e, a gust o% the real in its pure state $une bou%%2e du r2el dans l#2tat pur&. )t#s the real, he repeats, and people don#t understand that, it was prodigiousD (eople in reality, that#s what a becoming is. -here can be bad becomings, and it#s almost re;uired %or historians not to have understood that, /eleu0e believes, because at such moments, the di%%erence between history and becomings is revealed, and +ay #L6 was a becoming.revolutionary without a revolutionary %uture. (eople can always maCe %un o% it a%ter the %act, but becomings tooC hold o% people, even becomings.animal, even becomings.children, becomings. women %or men, becomings.men %or women. 1ll these aspects are in this very special domain that /eleu0e and (arnet have been pouring over since the start o% her ;uestions. (arnet asCs /eleu0e i% he had becomings.revolutionary himsel% at that moment, and he says that her smile tells him it#s a ;uestion not devoid o% mocCery. So she rephrases it? 3etween /eleu0e#s cynicism as a <homme de gauche<>le%tist and his becoming. revolutionary as a le%tist, how does he unravel, eEplain all that $se d2brouiller&, and what does it mean %or /eleu0e to be <de gauche<, on the le%tB /eleu0e pauses here be%ore answering. -hen he says he does not believe that a le%tist government eEists, which is not astonishing. -he best one can hope %or, he believes, is a government %avorable to certain demands %rom the le%t. 3ut a le%tist government does not eEist since being on the le%t has nothing to do with governments $n#est pas une a%%aire de gouvernement&. So how to de%ine being on the le%t, he continuesB )n two ways? %irst, it#s a matter o% perception, which means this? what would HnotH being on the le%t meanB )t#s a little liCe an address, eEtending outward %rom a person? the street where you are, the city, the country, other countries %arther and %arther away $/eleu0e gestures outward&. )t starts %rom the sel%, and to the eEtent that one is privileged, living in a rich country, one might asC, what can we do to maCe this situation lastB One senses that dangers eEist, that it might not last, it#s all so cra0y, so what might be done so that :urope lastsB 3eing on the le%t is the opposite? it#s perceiving... 1nd people say the Japanese perceive liCe that, not liCe us... they perceive %irst the periphery $/eleu0e gestures outward inward&, they would say the world, the continent .. let#s say :urope .., =rance, etc. etc., rue de 3i0erte,

me? it#s a phenomenon o% perception, perceiving the hori0on, perceiving on the hori0on. (arnet understandably obAects that the Japanese aren#t really so le%tist, and /eleu0e gestures at her dismissively, her obAection isn#t ade;uate $c#est pas une raison&, on the basis o% that $their perception&, they#re le%tist, on the basis o% their sense o% address, postal address. =irst, you see the hori0on, /eleu0e says. 1nd you Cnow these millions o% starving people can#t last, he continues, there#s no point in Cidding about it, it#s an absolutely worn.out Austice system, it#s not a matter o% morality, but in perception itsel%. )t#s not in saying that the natality rate has to be reduced, which is Aust another way o% Ceeping the privileges %or :urope. $3eing on the le%t& is really %inding arrangements, %inding world.wide assemblages. 3eing on the le%t, it is o%ten only -hird World problems that are closer to us than problems in our neighborhoods. So it#s really a ;uestion o% perceptions, says /eleu0e, more than being a ;uestion o% <beauti%ul souls< $belles Mmes&, that#s what being on the le%t is. 1nd second, he continues, being on the le%t is a problem o% becomings, o% never ceasing to become minoritarian. -hat is, the le%t is never o% the maAority, and %or a very simple reason? the maAority is something that assumes that it#s not the huge ;uantity that votes %or something, but it assumes a standard $2talon&K in the West, the standard that every maAority assumes is? 4, man, N, adult O, manly>virile $male&, 8, city dweller... :0ra (ound, Joyce say things& liCe that, it#s a standard. So, the maAority by its nature will go %or whomever or whatever aggregate at a particular moment will succeed with this standard, that is, the supposed image o% the urban, virile, adult male such that a maAority, /eleu0e insists, is never anyone, it#s an empty standard. Simply, a maEimum o% persons recogni0e themselves in this empty standard. So, he continues, women will maCe their marC either by intervening in this maAority, or in the minorities according to groupings in which they are placed according to this standard. /eleu0e clari%ies this? being a woman is not a given by nature, women have their own becomings.womanK and so, i% women have a becoming.woman, men have a becoming.woman as well. /eleu0e reminds (arnet o% talCing earlier about becomings. animal, about children having their own becomings, not being children naturally. (arnet wonders that men cannot become men, and that#s toughD /eleu0e says, no, that#s a maAoritarian standard, virile, adult, male... they can become women, and then they enter into minoritarian practices. -he Le%t, /eleu0e concludes, is the aggregate o% processes o% minoritarian becomings. So, says /eleu0e, ;uite literally, the maAority is no one, the minority is everyone, and that#s what being on the le%t is? Cnowing that the minority is everyone and that it#s there that phenomena o% becomings occur. -hat#s why however great they thinC are, they still have doubts about the outcome o% elections.

+, as in ,ist ry * Phil s -hy+

(arnet lists /eleu0e#s early worCs, the %irst phase on the history o% philosophy .. on 'ume, 7iet0sche, *ant, 3ergson, Spino0a .., then says that someone encountering his later worCs .. P/i%%erence and RepetitionP, PLogic o% SenseP, and worCs with "uattari .. might thinC he had a JeCyll>'yde personality. -hen, she remarCs, he returned in 4566 to Leibni0, so asCs what he enAoyed and still enAoys in the history o% philosophyB /eleu0e pauses, then says it#s a complicated matter because this history o% philosophy encompasses philosophy itsel%. 'e assumes that a lot o% people thinC o% philosophy as

being ;uite abstract and mostly %or specialists, but in his view, it has nothing to do with specialists, or is so only in the way that music or painting are. So he indicates that he tries to pose the problem di%%erently.P /eleu0e says that, conventionally, the history o% philosophy is abstract in the second degree since it does not consist o% talCing about abstract ideas, but o% %orming abstract ideas about abstract ideas. 3ut he has always seen it di%%erently, comparing it to painting. 'e re%ers to letters by Qan "ogh on the distinctions between portraiture or landscapes $see PLogi;ue de la sensationP RQ, %or more eEtensive discussion o% Qan "ogh#s correspondence&. =or /eleu0e, the history o% philosophy is, as in painting, a Cind o% art o% the portrait, creating a philosopher#s portrait, but a philosophical portrait o% a philosopher, a mental or spiritual portrait such that it#s an activity that belongs %ully within philosophy itsel%, Aust as a portraiture belongs to painting. /eleu0e wonders i% he#s going a bit %ast with this comparison with painting, though, and says that i% he invoCes painters liCe Qan "ogh or "auguin, it#s because something in their worCs has an enormous e%%ect on him, the Cind o% immense respect or rather %ear and even panic they evince when %aced with getting in $aborder& color. -hese painters, says /eleu0e, are the two greatest colorists ever, but in their worCs, they employ color only with great hesitation $tremblement&. )n the beginning o% their careers, they used earthen colors $couleurs patate, de terre&, nothing striCing, because they did not yet dare to taCe on color. )t#s a very moving ;uestion, as i%, literally, they did not yet Audge themselves worthy o% color, not ready or able to taCe it on and really do painting. )t tooC them years and years be%ore being able to do so. When you see the results o% their worC, /eleu0e says, one has to re%lect on this immense slowness to undertaCe that worC. Color %or a painter is something that can taCe him>her into madness, into insanity, thus is something ;uite di%%icult, taCing years to dare to come close to it. So, it#s not that he is particularly modest, /eleu0e says, but it striCes him as being ;uite shocCing were there philosophers who simply said, hey, )#m going into philosophy now, going to do my own philosophy. -hese are %eeble statements, argues /eleu0e, because philosophy is liCe Ipainting withJ colors, be%ore entering into it, one has to taCe so many precautions, be%ore con;uering the <philosophical color< $la couleur philosophi;ue& .. and the philosophical color is the concept. 3e%ore succeeding in inventing concepts, an enormous amount o% worC is necessary. /eleu0e sees the history o% philosophy as this slow modesty, taCing a long time doing portraits. )t#s liCe a novelist, /eleu0e suggests, who might say, )#m writing novels, but cannot read any because )#d risC compromising my inspiration. /eleu0e says he has heard young writers maCe such %rightening statements which, %or him, means they simply do not need to worC. +oreover, /eleu0e sees the history o% philosophy not only as having this preparatory role, it succeeds ;uite well by itsel%. )t is the art o% portraiture in so %ar as it allows one to reach toward something. 1t this point, it becomes a bit mysterious, says /eleu0e, and he asCs (arnet perhaps to give him another ;uestion so he can de%ine this . (arnet says that the use%ulness o% the history o% philosophy %or /eleu0e is clear in this eEplanation. 3ut the use%ulness o% history o% philosophy %or people in general, what is that, she asCs, since /eleu0e says that he does not want to see it as a Cind o% speciali0ationB =or /eleu0e, this is very simple. Fou can understand what philosophy is, he says .. that

is, the eEtent to which it is no more an abstract thing than a painting or a musical worC .. only through the history o% philosophy, provided that you conceive o% it in the proper manner $comme il %aut&. What might that beB One thing is certain? a philosopher is not someone who contemplates or even re%lects, but is someone who creates, and creates a very special Cind o% thing, concepts, not stars that one ga0es at in the sCy. /eleu0e argues $as he and "uattari will in PWhat is (hilosophyBP& that you have to create, %abricate concepts. So many ;uestions emerge here? what %orB Why create concepts, and what is thatB /eleu0e leaves these ;uestions aside to provide an eEample? we Cnow that (lato created a concept that did not eEist be%ore him, translated generally as the )dea. What he calls an )dea is truly a (latonic concept. Concretely, /eleu0e asCs, what is itB -hat#s what one has to asC. 1n )dea is a thing that wouldn#t be something else, i.e. would only be what it is... /eleu0e pauses to asC? is that abstractB 7o, he replies, and gives the eEample not %ound in (lato? a mother is not only a mother, but also a wi%e, a daughter o% a mother. Let us imagine, he continues, that a mother would only be a mother, e.g. the Qirgin +ary. :ven i% that doesn#t eEist, a mother that would only be not something else would be an )dea o% mother. i.e. a thing that would only be what it is. -his, /eleu0e a%%irms, is what (lato meant when he said only Austice is Aust, only Austice is not something else than Aust. (lato doesn#t stop there, but he created a veritable concept o% the )dea o% something as pure. /eleu0e admits that this still remains abstract, and asCs whyB )% we proceed to read through (lato, everything becomes concrete, /eleu0e insists. (lato didn#t create this concept o% )dea by chanceK he said that whatever happens in this concrete situation, whatever might be a given therein, there are rivals $pr2tendents&, i.e. people who say? %or this thing, )#m the best eEample o% it. (lato gave an eEample o% the politician with an initial de%inition as the pastor o% men, who taCes care o% people. 1s a result, people step %orward to say, )#m the true pastor o% men !the merchant, the shepherd, the doctor,, i.e. di%%erent levels. )n other words, there are rivals, and so with that, things starts to appear a bit more concrete. /eleu0e insists that a philosopher creates concepts, e.g. the )dea, the thing in so %ar as it is pure $la chose en tant ;ue pure&. -he reader doesn#t understand immediately what it#s about, or why one would need to create such a concept. )% he>she continues and re%lects on it, he>she sees the reason? there are all sorts o% rivals who present themselves as claimants %or things. So the problem %or (lato is not at all, what is the )deaB -hat way, things would Aust remain abstract. Rather, it#s how to select the claimants, how to discover among them which one is genuine !le bon,. )t#s the )dea, i.e. the thing in a pure state, that will permit this selection, that will select the claimant who is closest to it. /eleu0e sees this allows the discussion to move %orward a bit since every concept, e.g. the )dea, re%ers to a problem, in this case, how to select the claimant. )% you do philosophy abstractly, he insists, you do not even see the problem, but i% one reaches this problem... One might wonder why the problem isn#t stated clearly by a philosopher since it certainly eEists in his worC, and /eleu0e maintains that it#s because one can#t do everything at once. -he philosopher#s tasC is already that o% eEposing the concepts that s>he#s in the process o% creating, so s>he can#t eEpose the problems on top o% that, or at least one can discover these problems only through the concepts being created. /eleu0e insists? i% you haven#t %ound the problem to which a concept corresponds, everything stays abstract. )% you#ve %ound the problem, everything becomes concrete. -hat#s why in (lato, there are constantly these claimants, these rivals.

/eleu0e goes on to asC, why does this occur in the "reeC city, and in (latoB -he concept is the )dea as means o% selecting the suitors, but why did this concept and this problem taCe %orm in the "reeC milieuB $3ecause& it#s a typically "reeC problem, o% the democratic, "reeC city, even i% (lato did not accept the democratic character o% the city. =or it#s in the "reeC city that, %or eEample, a magistracy is an obAect o% pretension, %or which someone can pose a candidacy %or a particular %unction. )n an imperial %ormation, %unctionaries are named by the emperor, whereas the 1thenian city is a rivalry o% climants, an entire milieu o% "reeC problems, a civili0ation in which the con%rontation o% rivals constantly appears? that#s why they invented gymnastics, Olympic games, legal procedures also. 1nd in philosophy, there are suitors as well, e.g. (lato#s struggle against the Sophists. 'e believed that the Sophists were claimants %or something to which they had no right. What would de%ine the right or the non.right o% a claimant, asCs /eleu0eB 1ll this is as interesting as a great novel or a painting, but in philosophy, there are two things at once? the creation o% a concept always occurs as a %unction o% a problem. )% one has not %ound the problem, philosophy remains abstract. 'e gives another eEample? people usually don#t see problems, these usually stay hidden, but to engage in the history o% philosophy is to restore these problems and, through this, to discover what#s innovative in these concepts. -he history o% philosophy linCs up concepts as i% they seemed to go without saying, as i% they weren#t created, so there tends to be total ignorance about problems. /eleu0e o%%ers a %inal eEample? much later, Leibni0 arrived and invented an eEtraordinary concept to which he gave the name, monad. -here is always something a bit cra0y in a concept. Leibni0#s monad, /eleu0e continues, designated a subAect, somebody, you or me, in so %ar as it eEpresses the totality o% the world, and in eEpressing the totality o% the world, it only eEpresses clearly a tiny region o% the world, its territory, or what Leibni0 calls his <department<. So a subAective unity that eEpresses the entire world, but that only clearly eEpresses a region o% the world .. this is called a monad. )t#s a concept Leibni0 created, but why state it this wayB One has to %ind the problem, that#s the charm o% reading philosophy, as charming as reading a good booC. Leibni0 poses a problem, speci%ically that everything only eEists as %olded... 'e saw the world as an aggregate o% things %olded within each other. /eleu0e here suggests stepping bacC a bit? why did he see the world liCe thisB What was happening bacC thenB What counts, /eleu0e argues, is the idea o% the %old, everything is %olded, and everything is a %old o% a %old, you can never reach something that is completely un%olded. +atter is constituted o% %olds overlapping bacC onto it, and things o% the mind, perceptions, %eelings, ideas, are %olded into the soul. )t#s precisely because perceptions, %eeling, ideas are %olded into a soul that Leibni0 constructed this concept o% a soul that eEpresses the entire world, i.e. in which he discovers the entire world to be %olded. /eleu0e asCs abruptly, what is a bad philosopher, or a great philosopherB -he bad one, he answers, creates no concepts, uses ready.made ideas, thus puts %orth opinions, and does not do philosophy, and poses no problems. So, to do history o% philosophy is this long apprenticeship in which one learns, or one is truly an apprentice in this domain, the constitution o% problems and the creation o% concepts. 1nd how is it that thought can be idiotic, moronicB Some people talC, don#t create concepts, put %orth opinions, but moreover, we don#t Cnow what problems they#re talCing about. 1t most, one Cnows the ;uestions, but not the problems behind certain ;uestions !e.g. /oes "od eEistB doesn#t

pose any problem, what might be behind that..., )% you have neither a concept nor a problem, says /eleu0e, you aren#t doing philosophy. 1ll this is to say, /eleu0e insists, the eEtent to which philosophy is amusing. So doing history o% philosophy is to discover nothing di%%erent than what one %inds while looCing at a painting or listening to a musical worC. (arnet asCs, since /eleu0e evoCed "auguin#s and Qan "ogh#s ;uaCing and hesitation %rom %ear be%ore taCing on color, what happened to him, /eleu0e, when he passed %rom history o% philosophy to doing his own philosophyB /eleu0e answers swi%tly, this is what happened? history o% philosophy gave him the chance to learn things, made him more capable o% moving toward what color is in philosophy. 1nd he asCs, why does philosophy not cease to eEist, why do we still have philosophy todayB 3ecause there is always an occasion to create concepts. 3ut today, he continues, this notion o% creation o% concepts is taCen over by the media, publicityK with computers, they say you can create concepts, an entire language stolen %rom philosophy %or <communication.< 3ut what they call concepts, creating, /eleu0e says dismissively, is truly comic, no need to insist on it. -hat still remains philosophy#s tasC. /eleu0e states that he never was a%%ected by people who proclaim the death o% philosophy, getting $d2passer& beyond philosophy, etc., since he always wondered what that could mean. 1s long as there#s a need to create concepts, there will be philosophy since that#s the de%inition o% philosophy, we have to create them, and we create them as a %unction o% problems, and problems evolve. Certainly, one can be (latonician, Leibni0ian, *antian today, that is, one Audges that certain problems .. not all .. posed by (lato remain valid provided one maCes certain trans%ormations, and so one is (latonician since one still has use %or (latonic concepts. )% we pose problems o% a completely di%%erent nature, doing philosophy is creating new concepts as a %unction o% problems posed today. -he %inal aspect, /eleu0e continues, is what is the evolution o% problemsB We might say historical, social %orces, but there is something deeper. )t#s all very mysterious, /eleu0e admits, maybe they don#t have time in the interview to pursue it, but /eleu0e sees us reaching a Cind o% becoming o% thought, evolution o% thought that results not only in no longer posing the same problems, they are no longer posed in the same way. -here is an urgent appeal, a necessity even to create and re.create new concepts. So history o% philosophy cannot be reduced to sociological in%luence, he argues. -here is a becoming o% thought, something very mysterious that causes us perhaps no longer to thinC in the same way as a hundred years ago, new thought processes, ellipses o% thought. /eleu0e maintains that there is a history o% pure thought, and that#s what history o% philosophy is, it has always had only one %unction, so there#s no need to get beyond it, as it has its sole %unction. (arnet asCs how a problem evolves through time, and /eleu0e o%%ers another eEample? what, %or most o% the great philosophers in the 4Sth century, was their negative worryB )t was a matter o% warding o%% the dangers o% error, i.e. the negative o% thought, to prevent the mind %rom %alling into error. -here was a long, gradual slide and in the 46th century, a di%%erent problem emerges, not at all the same? no longer denouncing error, but denouncing illusions, the idea that the mind is not only surrounded by illusions, but could even produce them itsel%. So this is the movement in the 46th century, the denunciation o% superstitions, and while it appears similar to the 4Sth century,

something completely new is being born in the 46th century. One might say that it#s due to social causes, but /eleu0e maintains that there is also a secret history o% thought that would be a passionate subAect to pursue. -hen, in the 45th century .. here, /eleu0e admits that he is stating things in an eEtremely simple and rudimentary way .. things have slid . )t#s no longer how to avoid illusionK no, as spiritual creatures, men ceaselessly emit inanities $bTtises&, which is not the same thing as %alling into illusion? how to ward o%% <bTtises<, inanitiesB -hat appears clearly in people on the border o% philosophy, =laubert, 3audelaire, the problem o% <bTtises<. 1nd there again, social evolution, the evolution o% the bourgeoisie, made the problem o% <bTtises< an urgent problem. 3ut there is also something deeper in this Cind o% history o% problems that thought con%ronts. :very time one poses a problem, new concepts appear such that, i% we understand the history o% philosophy this way .. creation o% concepts, constitution o% problems, problems being more or less hidden, so we have to discover them .., we see that philosophy has strictly nothing to do with the true or the %alse. LooCing %or the truth means nothing. Creating concepts and constituting problems is a matter o% meaning, not truth or %alsity... a problem with meaning, so doing philosophy is to constitute problems that have a sense and to create concepts that cause us to move toward the understanding and solution o% problems. (arnet returns to two special ;uestions %or /eleu0e? when he returned to doing history o% philosophy in the Leibni0 booC !P-he =oldP, the previous year, was it in the same way as NU years earlier, i.e. be%ore he had produced his own philosophyB /eleu0e answers, certainly not. 3e%ore, he used history o% philosophy as this Cind o% indispensable apprenticeship in order to looC %or the concepts o% others, o% great philosophers, and problems %or which their concepts provided answers. Whereas, in the booC on Leibni0 .. and /eleu0e says, there#s nothing vain in what he is about to say .., he miEed in problems %rom the NUth century, that might be his own problems, with those posed by Leibni0, since /eleu0e is persuaded o% the actuality o% great philosophers. So, what does it mean to act as $%aire comme& a great philosopher wouldB )t#s not necessarily to be his disciple, but to eEtend his tasC, create concepts in relation to and in evolution with the concepts he created. 3y worCing on Leibni0, /eleu0e was more in this path, whereas in the %irst booCs on the history o% philosophy, he was in the <pre. color< stage. (arnet continues by asCing about his worC on Spino0a and 7iet0sche, about which /eleu0e had said that he %ocused therein on the rather accursed and hidden area o% philosophy. What did he meanB /eleu0e says that, %or him, this hidden area re%erred to thinCers who reAected all transcendence, all universals, the idea or concepts having universal values, any instance that goes beyond the earth and men... authors o% immanence. (arnet pursues this by observing that his booCs on 7iet0sche and Spino0a were real events, booCs that he is Cnown %or, yet one cannot say that he is a 7iet0schean or a Spino0ian. /eleu0e passed through all that, even during his apprenticeship, and (arnet says that he was already /eleu0ean. /eleu0e appears slightly embarrassed, saying that she has given him an enormous compliment, i% it#s true. What he always hoped %or, he says, whether his worC was good or bad, and he Cnew he could %ail, was trying to pose problems %or his own purposes $pour mon compte&, and to create concepts %or his own purposes. /eleu0e then suggests that, at the eEtreme, he would have wanted a Cind o%

;uanti%ication o% philosophy, such that each philosopher would be attributed a Cind o% magic number corresponding to the number o% concepts he really created, re%erring to problems .. /escartes, Leibni0, 'egel. /eleu0e %inds that an interesting idea, and thinCs perhaps he would have had a small magic number, having created concepts as a %unction o% problems. 3ut /eleu0e concludes by saying that his point o% honor is simply that, whatever the Cind o% concept he tried to create, he can state what problem the concept corresponded to. Otherwise, it would have all been empty chatter. (arnet#s %inal ;uestion on this topic? during the period around 45L6, and be%ore, when everyone was involved in reading +arE and Reich, wasn#t /eleu0e rather deliberately provocative in turning toward 7iet0sche, suspected o% %ascism, and toward Spino0a and the body, when everyone was preaching about ReichB /idn#t history o% philosophy serve a bit as a dare, a provocation %or himB /eleu0e responds by saying that this is connected to what they#ve been discussing all along, the same ;uestion. What he was looCing %or, even with "uattari, was this Cind o% truly immanent dimension o% the unconscious. (sychoanalysis is entirely %ull o% transcendental elements .. the law, the %ather, the mother .. whereas a %ield o% immanence that would allow him to de%ine the unconscious was the domain into which Spino0a went the %arthest, and 7iet0sche as well, %arther than anyone be%ore them. So there was no provocation, but Spino0a and 7iet0sche %orm in philosophy perhaps the greatest liberation o% thought, almost eEplosive in nature, and the most unusual concepts, because their problems were somewhat condemned problems, that people did not dare pose during their eras. $/eleu0e stops, smiling at (arnet, and she responds ;uite oddly, saying !almost in the tone o% scolding parent,? <We#ll go on then since you don#t want to answer .< /eleu0e simply maCes a so%t ;uestioning <ehB< as (arnet announces,?

' as in 'dea
(arnet begins by saying that this <idea< is no longer in the (latonic domain. Rather, she says, /eleu0e always spoCe passionately about philosophers# ideas, but also ideas o% thinCers in cinema !directors,, artists# and painters# ideas. 'e always pre%erred an <idea< to eEplications and commentary. So why, %or /eleu0e, does the <idea< taCe precedence over everything elseB /eleu0e admits that this is ;uite correct? the <idea< as he uses it traverses all creative activities, since creating means having an idea. 3ut there are people .. not at all to be scorned %or this .. who go through li%e without ever having an idea. /eleu0e insists that it is usually ;uite rare to have an idea, it doesn#t happen every day. 1nd a painter is no less liCely to have ideas than a philosopher, Aust not the same Cind o% ideas. So, /eleu0e asCs, in what %orm does an idea occur in a particular caseB )n philosophy, at least, in two ways? the idea occurs in the %orm o% concepts and o% creation o% concepts. /eleu0e is strucC by %ilmmaCers? while some have no ideas, some have ;uite a %ew, since ideas are ;uite haunting, coming and going, and taCing diverse %orms. /eleu0e gives an eEample o% the %ilm director, +inelli. )n his worCs, one sees that he asCs himsel%? what does it mean to be caught up in someone#s dreamingB )t goes %rom the

comic to the tragic and even to the abominable. So %rom getting caught in another#s dreaming can result aw%ul things, it#s possibly horror in its pure state. So, in +inelli#s worC, one can get caught in the nightmare o% war, and that produces the admirable P=our 'orsemen o% the 1pocalypseP, not war viewed as war, but as a nightmare. What would it mean to be caught in a young girl#s dreamB -hat results in musical comedies, in which =red 1staire and "ene *elly .. /eleu0e indicates he#s not ;uite sure o% the names .. escape %rom tigresses and blacC panthers. -hat#s an idea. /eleu0e is ;uicC to point out that it#s not a concept though, and +inelli is not doing philosophy, but creating cinema $il %ait du cin2ma&. /eleu0e continues by suggesting that we almost have to distinguish three dimensions, which is his %uture worC $that he and "uattari develop in PWhat is (hilosophyBP&? 4, in the %irst, there are concepts that are invented in philosophyK N, in the second, there are percepts in the domain o% art. 1n artist creates percepts, a word re;uired to distinguish these %rom perceptions. What does a novelist wantB 'e wants to be able to construct aggregates o% perceptions and sensations that survive those who read the novel. /eleu0e gives eEamples in -olstoy or CheChov, each in his own way, who are able to write liCe a painter manages to paint. So, to try to give to this compleE web o% sensations a radical independence in relation to he>she who eEperiences them? -olstoy described atmospheresK =aulCner, and another great 1merican novelist, -homas Wol%e who nearly stated this in his short stories? someone goes out in the morning, smells toast, sees a bird %lying, and %eels a compleE web o% sensations. So, what happens when someone who eEperiences the sensations goes on to do something elseB -his, says /eleu0e, is a bit liCe in art, where we %ind an answer. )t#s to give a duration or an eternity to this compleE web o% sensations that are no longer grasped as being eEperienced by someone, or at the outside, might be grasped as eEperienced by a %ictional character. What does a painter doB 'e gives consistency to percepts, he tears percepts out o% perception. /eleu0e points to the )mpressionists who utterly twisted perception. 1 concept, /eleu0e says, creates a cracC in the sCull $%end le crane&, it#s a habit o% thought that is completely new, and people aren#t used to thinCing liCe that, not used to having their sCulls cracCed, since a concept twists our nerves. /eleu0e cites C20anne %rom memory, who said something liCe, we have to maCe impressionism last>durable, that is, new methods are re;uired in order to maCe it have duration, so that the percept ac;uires an ever greater autonomy. O, 1 third order o% things, a Cind o% connection among them all, are a%%ects. /eleu0e says that, o% course, there are no percepts without a%%ects, but that these are speci%ic as well? these are becomings that eEceed him or her who goes through them, eEceed the strength o% those who go through them. /oesn#t music lead us into these %orces $puissances& that eEceed our graspB )t#s possible, /eleu0e answers. )% one taCes a philosophical concept, it causes one to see things $%aire voir des choses& since the greatest philosophers have this <seeing< trait or aspect $cVt2 #voyant#&, at least in the philosophers that /eleu0e admires? Spino0a causes one to <see<, one o% the most visionary $voyant& philosophers, 7iet0sche as well. -hey all hurl %orth %antastic a%%ects, there is a music in these philosophers, and inversely, music maCes one see some very strange things, colors and percepts. /eleu0e says he imagines a Cind o% circulation o%

these dimensions into each other, between philosophical concepts, pictorial percepts, and musical a%%ects. -here#s nothing surprising in there being these resonances, he maintains, Aust the worC o% very di%%erent people, but that never stop interpenetrating. (arnet notes that /eleu0e is always very interested in the ideas o% painters, artists, philosophers, but she asCs why he never seems interested in looCing at or reading something that would simply be amusing or something merely diverting with having an idea. )sn#t that an idea possible there as wellB /eleu0e says that, in the sense that he de%ines <idea,< he has di%%iculty seeing how that would be possible. )% you show him a painting that has no percepts or play %or him some music without a%%ect, /eleu0e says he almost cannot understand what that would mean. 1nd a stupid booC o% philosophy, he says he would have trouble understanding what Cind o% pleasure he would derive %rom it, other than an eEtremely sicCly pleasure. (arnet says that one might simply picC up a deliberately amusing booC, and /eleu0e says that such a booC could well be %ull o% ideas, it all depends. 'e says that no one has ever made him laugh more than 3ecCett and *a%Ca, and he considers himsel% to be sensitive to humor, but that it#s true that he does not liCe comedy on television very much. (arnet says that the eEception %or /eleu0e is 3enny 'ill !D,, and /eleu0e says yes, because he I3enny 'illJ <has an idea,< but that even in this domain, the great 1merican comics $burles;ues& have lots o% ideas. (arnet asCs i% it ever happens that /eleu0e sits down to his writing table without an idea o% what he#s going to do, that is, without having any ideas at all. /eleu0e says o% course not, i% he has no ideas, he doesn#t sit down to write. 3ut what happens is that the idea hasn#t developed enough, the idea escapes him, the idea disappears, there might be holes. 'e has these pain%ul eEperiences, he admits, and it doesn#t go smoothly since ideas are not ready.made, there are terrible moments, even desperate moments o% this sort. (arnet brings up an eEpression? the idea that maCes a hole that is missing $l#id2e ;ui %ait un trou ;ui man;ue&, and /eleu0e responds by saying that#s impossible to distinguish. /o ) have an idea that ) am Aust unable to eEpress, or do ) Aust not have any ideas at allB =or /eleu0e, it#s ;uite the same thing? i% he cannot eEpress it, he doesn#t have the idea, or a piece o% it is missing since ideas don#t arrive in a completely %ormed blocC, there are things that come in %rom diverse hori0ons, and i% you are missing a piece, then it is unusable.

. as in . y

(arnet begins by saying that this is a concept that /eleu0e is particularly attached to since it#s a Spino0aist concept and Spino0a turned Aoy into a concept o% resistance and li%e? let us avoid sad passions, let us live with Aoy in order to be at the maEimum o% our %orce $puissance&K there%ore, we must %lee %rom resignation, bad %aith, guilt, sad a%%ects that Audges and psychoanalysts would eEploit. So we can see entirely why, (arnet continues, /eleu0e would be pleased by all that. So %irst, she asCs him to distinguish Aoy %rom sadness, both %or Spino0a and %or himsel%. )s Spino0a#s concept entirely /eleu0e#s, and what did /eleu0e %ind when he read o% Spino0a#s conceptB /eleu0e says yes, these teEts are the most eEtraordinarily charged with a%%ect. )n

Spino0a that means .. to simpli%y .. that Aoy is everything that consists in %ul%illing a %orce $remplir une puissance&. What is thatB /eleu0e suggests returning to earlier eEamples? ) con;uer, however little this might be, ) con;uer a small piece o% color, ) enter a little %arther into color, that#s where Aoy can be located. Joy is %ul%illing a %orce, reali0ing $e%%ectuer& a %orce. )t#s the word <%orce< $puissance& that is ambiguous. /eleu0e asC %irst, what about the opposite, what is sadnessB )t occurs when one is separated %rom a %orce o% which ) believed mysel%, rightly or wrongly, to be capable? ) could have done that, but circumstances didn#t allow, or it was %orbidden, etc. 1ll sadness is the e%%ect o% power $pouvoir& over me. 1ll this poses problems, obviously, more details are needed because there are no bad %orcesK what is bad is the lowest degree o% %orce, and that#s power. /eleu0e insists that wicCedness consists o% preventing someone %rom doing what he>she can, %rom reali0ing one#s %orce. Such that there is no bad %orce, only wicCed powers... +aybe all power is wicCed necessarily, but /eleu0e suggests that maybe this is too %acile a position. /eleu0e continues by suggesting that the con%usion between %orce and powers is ;uite costly because power always separates people who are subAected to it %rom what they are able to do. Spino0a started %rom this point, /eleu0e says, and he returns to something (arnet said in asCing her ;uestion, that sadness is linCed to priests, to tyrants, to Audges, and these are perpetually the people who separate their subAects %rom what they are able to do, %orbid them %rom reali0ing %orces. /eleu0e recalls something that (arnet said under <) as in )dea,< re%erring to 7iet0sche#s anti.Semitism. /eleu0e sees this as an important ;uestion, since there are teEts o% 7iet0sche that one can %ind ;uite disturbing i% they are read in the manner mentioned earlier, reading philosophers too ;uicCly. What striCes /eleu0e as curious is that in all the teEts in which 7iet0sche lashes out against the Jewish people, what does he reproach them %or, and what has contributed to his anti.Semitic reputationB 7iet0sche reproaches them in ;uite speci%ic conditions %or having invented a character that had never eEisted be%ore the Jewish people, the character o% the priest. /eleu0e argues that, to his Cnowledge, in no teEt o% 7iet0sche is there the least re%erence to Jews in a general attacC mode, but strictly an attacC against the Jewish people.inventors o% the priest. /eleu0e says that 7iet0sche does point out that in other social %ormations, there can be sorcerers, scribes, but these are not at all the same as the priest. /eleu0e maintains that one source o% 7iet0sche#s greatness as a philosopher is that he never ceases to admire that which he attacCs, %or he sees the priest as a truly incredible invention, something ;uite astounding. 1nd this results in an immediate connection with Christians, but not the same type o% priest. So the Christians will conceive o% another type o% priest and will continue in the same path o% the priestly character. -his shows, /eleu0e argues, the eEtent to which philosophy is concrete, %or /eleu0e insists that 7iet0sche is, to his Cnowledge, the %irst philosopher to have invented, created, the concept o% the priest, and %rom that point onward, to have posed %undamental problems? what does sincere, total power consist o%B what is the di%%erence between sincere, total power and royal power, etc.B =or /eleu0e, these are ;uestions that remain entirely actual. 'ere /eleu0e wishes to show, as he had begun earlier, how one can continue and eEtend philosophy. 'e re%ers to how =oucault, through his own means, emphasi0ed pastoral power, a new concept that is not the same as 7iet0sche#s, but that engages directly with 7iet0sche, and in this way, one develops a history o% thought.

So what is the concept o% the priest, and how is it linCed to sadness, /eleu0e asCsB 1ccording to 7iet0sche, this priest is de%ined as inventing the idea that men eEist in a state o% in%inite debt. 3e%ore the priest, there is a history o% debt, and ethnologists would do well to read some 7iet0sche. -hey#ve done much research on this during our century, in so.called primitive societies, where things %unctioned through pieces o% debt, blocCs o% %inite debt, they received and then gave it bacC, all linCed to time, de%erred parcels. -his is an immense area o% study, says /eleu0e, since it suggests that debt was primary to eEchange. -hese are properly philosophical problems, /eleu0e argues, but 7iet0sche spoCe about this well be%ore the ethnologists. )n so %ar as debt eEists in a %inite regime, man can %ree himsel% %rom it. When the Jewish priest invoCes this idea by virtue o% an alliance o% in%inite debt between the Jewish people and "od, when the Christians adopt this in another %orm, the idea o% in%inite debt linCed to original sin, this reveals the very curious character o% the priest about which it is philosophy#s responsibility to create the concept. /eleu0e is care%ul to say that he does not claim that philosophy is necessarily atheist, but in Spino0a#s case, he had already outlined an analysis o% the Jewish priest, in the P-heologico.(olitical -reatiseP. )t happens, says /eleu0e, that philosophical concepts are veritable characters that maCes philosophy concrete $Clearly /eleu0e is developing the concept o% <conceptual personae< that he and "uattari propose in PWhat is (hilosophyBP&. Creating the concept o% the priest is liCe another Cind o% artist would create in a painting o% the priest. So, the concept o% the priest pursued by Spino0a, then by 7iet0sche, then by =oucault %orms an eEciting lineage. /eleu0e says that he#d liCe to connect himsel% with it, to re%lect a bit on this pastoral power, that some people say no longer %unctions. 3ut, as /eleu0e insists, one would have to see how it has been taCen up again, %or eEample, psychoanalysis as the new avatar o% pastoral power. 1nd how do we de%ine itB )t#s not the same thing as tyrants and priests, but they at least have in common that they derive their power %rom the sad passions that they inspire in men, o% the sort? repent in the name o% in%inite debt, you are the obAects o% in%inite debt, etc. )t#s through this that they have power, it#s through this that their power is an obstacle blocCing the reali0ation o% %orces. Whereas /eleu0e argues that all power is sad, even i% those who have it seem to revel in having it, it is still a sad Aoy. On the other hand, /eleu0e continues, Aoy is the reali0ation $e%%ectuation& o% %orces. 'e says that he Cnows o% no %orces that would be wicCed. -o taCe delight and Aoy $se r2Aouir& is delighting in being what one is, that is, in having reached where one is. )t#s not sel%.satis%action, not some enAoyment o% being pleased with onesel%. Rather, it#s the pleasure in con;uest $con;uTte&, as 7iet0sche said, but the con;uest does not consist o% serving people, con;uest is when painters use and then con;uer colors. -hat#s what Aoy is, even i% it goes badly. =or in this history o% %orces and con;uest o% %orces, it happens that one can reali0e too much %orce %or one#s own sel%, resulting in cracCing up, liCe Qan "ogh. IChange o% set, interview continues the neEt dayJ (arnet says that /eleu0e has been %ortunate to escape in%inite debt, so how is it that he complains %rom morning to night, and that he is the great de%ender o% the complaint $plainte& and the elegyB Smiling at this, /eleu0e observes that this is a personal ;uestion. 'e then says that the elegy is a principal source o% poetry, a great complaint. 1 history o% the elegy should be done, it probably has alreadyK the complaint o% the

prophet, he continues, is the opposite o% the priest. -he prophet wails, why did "od choose meB and what#s happening to me is too much %or meK i% one accepts that this is what the complaint is, something we don#t see everyday. 1nd it#s not ow ow ow, )#m in pain, although it could also be that, says /eleu0e, but the person complaining doesn#t always Cnow what he>she means. -he elderly lady who complains about her rheumatism, she means, what %orce is taCing hold o% my leg that is too great %or me to standB )% we looC at history, /eleu0e says, the elegy is a source o% poetry, Latin poets liCe Catullus or -iberius. 1nd what is the elegyB )t#s the eEpression o% he>she who, temporarily or not, no longer has any social status. -o complain .. a little old man, someone in prison .. it#s not sadness at all, but something ;uite di%%erent, the demand, something in the complaint that is astonishing, an adoration, liCe a prayer. -he complaint o% prophets, or something (arnet is particularly interested in, the complaint o% hypochondriacs. -he intensity o% their complaint is beauti%ul it#s sublime, /eleu0e says. So, he continues, it#s the socially eEcluded who are in a situation o% complaint. -here is a 'ungarian specialist, -WCei, who studied the Chinese elegy that is enlivened by those no longer bearing a social status, i.e. the %reed slave. 1 slave, however un%ortunate he or she might be, still has a social status. -he %reed slave, though, is outside everything, liCe at the liberation o% 1merican blacCs with the abolition o% slavery, or in Russia, when no statute had been %oreseen. So they %ind themselves eEcluded %rom any community I/eleu0e and "uattari re%er to -WCei in this same conteEt in 1 -housand (lateaus !885, 9L5, note 5,J. -hen the great complaint is born. 'owever, the great complaint does not eEpress the pain they have, /eleu0e argues, but is a Cind o% chant>song. -his is why the complaint is a great poetic source. /eleu0e says $with some laughter %rom (arnet in response& that i% he hadn#t been a philosopher and i% he had been a woman, he would have wanted to be a wailer $pleureuse&, the complaint rises and it#s an art. 1nd the complaint has this per%idious side as well, as i% to say? don#t taCe on my complaint, don#t touch me, don#t %eel sorry %or me, )#m taCing care o% it. 1nd in taCing care o% it %or onesel%, the complaint is trans%ormed? what is happening is too overwhelming %or me, because this is Aoy, Aoy in a pure state. 3ut we are care%ul to hide it, /eleu0e says, because there are people who aren#t very pleased with someone being Aoyous, so you have to hide it in a Cind o% complaint. 3ut the complaint is not only Aoy, it#s also unease, because, in %act, reali0ing a %orce can re;uire a price? one wonders, am ) going to risC my sCin>li%e $laisser ma peau&B 1s soon as one reali0es a %orce, %or eEample, a painter reaching %or color, doesn#t he risC his sCin>li%eB Literally, one should thinC o% the way Qan "ogh went toward color, then eEperienced Aoy, and this is more connected to his madness than all these psychoanalytical stories. Something risCs getting broCen, it#s too overwhelming %or me, and that#s what the complaint is, something too great %or me, in mis%ortune or in happiness, but usually mis%ortune.

/ as in /ant

(arnet starts by stating that, o% all the philosophers /eleu0e has written on, *ant seems the %arthest %rom his own thought. 'owever, /eleu0e has said that all the authors he has studied have something in common. So is there something in common between *ant and Spino0a, which is not at all obviousB /eleu0e pauses, then says that he#d pre%er, i% he dares, to address the %irst part o% the ;uestion, i.e. why he tooC on *ant, once we say simply that there is nothing in common between *ant and Spino0a, or between 7iet0sche and *ant !although, he points out, 7iet0sche read *ant closely, but they would have a very di%%erent conception o% philosophy,. So why was he %ascinated by *ant, /eleu0e asCs himsel%B =or two reasons, *ant 4, was such a turning point and N, went as %ar as possible, initiating something that had never been advanced in philosophy. Speci%ically, says /eleu0e, he erects tribunals $il 2rige des tribunauE&, perhaps under the in%luence o% the =rench Revolution. /eleu0e reminds (arnet that so %ar, he has been trying to talC about concepts as characters. So, be%ore *ant, says /eleu0e, in the 46th century, there is a new Cind o% philosopher presented as an investigator $en;uTteur&, the investigation, titles appear with )nvestigation on this or that. -he philosopher saw himsel% as an investigator. :ven in the 4Sth century, and Leibni0 is the last to represent this tendency, he saw himsel% as a lawyer, de%ending a cause, and the greatest thing is that Leibni0 pretended to be "od#s lawyer. 1s there must have been things to reproach "od %or at the time, Leibni0 writes a marvelous little worC <"od#s Cause,< in the Auridical sense o% cause, "od#s cause to be de%ended. )t#s liCe a se;uence o% characters? the lawyer, the investigator, and then with *ant, the arrival o% a tribunal, a tribunal o% reason, things being Audged as a %unction o% a tribunal o% reason. 1nd the %aculties, in the sense o% understanding .. the imagination, Cnowledge, morality .. are measured as a %unction o% the tribunal o% reason. O% course, he uses a certain method that he invented, a prodigious method called the critical method, the properly *antian method. /eleu0e admits that he %inds all o% this aspect o% *ant ;uite horrible, but it#s both %ascination and horror, because it#s so ingenious. 1nd in engaging with the concepts that *ant invented, /eleu0e considers the concept o% the tribunal o% reason as inseparable %rom the critical method. 3ut %inally, he says, it#s a tribunal o% Audgment, the system o% Audgment, Aust one that no longer needs "od, based on reason, no longer on "od. )n an aside, /eleu0e points out that one might wonder about something he %inds mysterious .. why someone, you or me, gets connected or relates especially to one Cind o% problem and not anotherB What is someone#s a%%inity %or a particular Cind o% problemB 1 person might be %ated %or one problem since we don#t Aust taCe on Aust any problem. 1nd this is true, /eleu0e %eels, %or researchers in the sciences, an a%%inity %or a particular problem. 1nd philosophy is an aggregate o% problems, with its own consistency, but it does not pretend to deal with all problems, thanC "od, /eleu0e intones. Well, he %eels somewhat linCed to problems that aim at seeCing the means to do away with the system o% Audges, and to replace it with something else. )t#s a great <no<... /eleu0e thinCs about what (arnet said earlier, and says in %act, *ant is another addition. /eleu0e sees Spino0a, sees 7iet0sche, in literature I/.'.J Lawrence, and %inally the most recent and one o% the greatest writers, 1rtaud, his <-o 'ave /one With the Judgement o% "od,< which has meaning, not the words o% a madman, one really has to taCe this literally, /eleu0e argues. ISee <-o 'ave /one With Judgment,< Essays Critical and Clinical 4NL.4O9J

1nd underneath, when /eleu0e says that one has to looC underneath concepts, there are some astonishing statements by *ant, marvelous. /eleu0e says that he was the %irst to have created an astonishing reversal o% concepts, which is why /eleu0e gets so sad when people, even young people preparing the baccalaureate, are taught in an abstract way without even trying to have them participate in problems that are ;uite %antastic problems. /eleu0e insists that, up until *ant, %or eEample, time was derived %rom movement, was second in relation to movement, considered to be a number or a measure o% movement. What does *ant doB (arenthetically, /eleu0e reminds (arnet that all he is doing here is constantly to consider what it means to create a concept. Continuing, he says *ant creates a concept because he reverses the subordination, so that with him, movement depends on time. 1nd suddenly, time changes its nature, it ceases being circular. 3e%ore, time is subordinate to movement in which movement is the great periodic movement o% heavenly bodies, so it#s circular. On the contrary, when time is %reed %rom movement and movement depends on time, then time becomes a straight line. /eleu0e recalls something 3orges said .. although he has little relation to *ant .., that a more %rightening labyrinth than a circular labyrinth is one in a straight line, marvelous, but it was *ant who lets time loose. 1nd this story o% the tribunal, /eleu0e maintains, measuring the role o% each %aculty as a %unction o% a particular goal, that#s what *ant collides with at the end o% his li%e, as he is one o% the rare philosophers to write a booC as an old man that would renew everything, the PCriti;ue o% JudgmentP. 'e reaches the idea that the %aculties have to have disorderly relations with each other, that they collide with each other, and then reconcile, but no longer being subAect to a tribunal. 'e introduces his conception o% the Sublime, in which the %aculties enter into con%licts, so that there would be discordant accords $accords discordants&. -he labyrinth and its reversal o% relations pleases /eleu0e in%initely, he says, and goes ? all modern philosophy %lows %orth %rom this point, time and its reversal in relation to movement, and *ant#s conception o% the Sublime, with the discordant accords. /eleu0e is enormously moved by these things. *ant is clearly a great philosopher, /eleu0e maintains, and there is a whole undergirding in his worCs that maCes /eleu0e ;uite enthusiastic. 1nd all that is built on top o% this has no interest %or /eleu0e, but he says he doesn#t Audge it, it#s Aust a system o% Audgment that he#d liCe to do away with, but without standing in Audgment. (arnet tries to asC /eleu0e !as the tape runs out, about *ant#s li%e, and /eleu0e eEclaims, we didn#t discuss that be%orehand. So (arnet asCs a di%%erent ;uestion? there is an aspect o% *ant#s worC that might also please /eleu0e greatly, the aspect that -homas /e Xuincey discussed Iin The Last Days of mmanuel !antJ, this %antastically regulated li%e %ull o% habits, his little daily walC, the almost mythical image o% a philosopher. (arent says that this image also applies to /eleu0e, that is, something ;uite regulated, with an enormous number o% habits... /eleu0e smiles again, says he sees what she means, and /e Xuincey#s teEt is one that /eleu0e %inds ;uite eEciting, a real worC o% art. 3ut he sees this aspect belonging to all philosophers, not the same habits, but to say that they are creatures o% habit seems to suggests that they have no %amiliarity with... $/eleu0e does not complete this thought& 3eing creatures o% habit is almost re;uired o% them... Spino0a as well... /eleu0e says that his impression o% Spino0a is that there#s not very much surprising in his li%e, he polished his lenses, received visitors, it wasn#t a very turbulent li%e eEcept %or certain

political upheavals at that time. *ant also lived through some very intense political upheavals. -hus, all that people say about *ant#s clothing apparatuses !to pull up his socCs, etc.,, /eleu0e sees that as Cind o% charming, i% one needs that Cind o% thing. 3ut, it#s a bit liCe 7iet0sche said, philosophers are generally chaste, poor, and 7iet0sche adds, how does the philosopher maCe use o% all o% this, this chastity, this poverty, etc.B *ant had his little walC, but that#s nothing in itsel%, /eleu0e %eels? what happened during his little walC, what was he looCing atB )n the long run, /eleu0e says, that philosophers are creatures o% habit corresponds to a Cind o% contemplation, contemplating something. 1s %or his own habits, yes, he says, he has ;uite a %ew, but they are a Cind o% contemplation, and o% things that he is alone in seeing.

) as in )iterature
(arnet begins by observing that literature and philosophy constitute /eleu0e#s li%e, the he reads and re.reads <great literature< $la grande litt2rature&, and treats great literary writers as thinCers. 3etween his booCs on *ant and 7iet0sche, he wrote P(roust and SignsP, then subse;uently published three augmented versions o% the booC. 'e has written on Carroll and Yola in PLogic o% SenseP, on +asoch, *a%Ca, 3ritish and 1merican literatures. One gets the impression, she says, that it#s almost more through literature than through the history o% thought that he inaugurates a new Cind o% thinCing. So, she asCs, has /eleu0e always been a readerB /eleu0e says yes, although at one point, he was a much more active reader o% philosophy since that was part o% his apprenticeship, and he didn#t have time %or novels. 3ut throughout his li%e, he read, and more and more. /oes he maCe use o% it %or philosophyB he asCs. Fes, certainly, %or eEample, he indicates that he owes an immense amount to =it0gerald, and =aulCner as well, and although not usually considered a very philosophical writer. $/eleu0e here indicates that he can#t recall which writers are important %or him& /eleu0e continues, saying that his literary reading can be eEplained as a %unction o% what they discussed earlier, the history o% the concept is never alone? at the same time that it pursues its tasC, it maCes us see things, that is, there is an interconnection onto percepts. Whenever one %inds percepts in a novel, there is a perpetual communication between concepts and percepts. -here are also stylistic problems that are the same in philosophy and literature. /eleu0e suggests posing the ;uestion in ;uite simple terms? the great literary characters are great thinCers. 'e re.reads +elville a lot, and considers Captain 1hab to be a great thinCer, 3artleby as well, in his own way. -hey cause us to thinC in such a way that a literary worC traces as large a trail o% intermittent concepts $en pointill2& as it does percepts. Xuite simply, he argues, it#s not the tasC o% the literary writer who cannot do everything at once, he>she is caught up in the problems o% percepts and o% creating visions $%aire voir&, causing perceptions $%aire percevoir&, and creating characters, a %rightening tasC. 1nd a philosopher creates concepts, but it happens that they communiate greatly since, in certain ways, the concept is a character, and the character taCes on dimensions o% the concept. What /eleu0e %inds in common between <great literature< and <great philosophy< is that

both bear witness %or li%e $ils t2moignent pour la vie&, what he called <%orce< earlier bears witness %or li%e. -his is why great authors are not always in good health. Sometimes, there are cases liCe Qictor 'ugo when they are, so one must not say that all writers do not enAoy good health since many do. 3ut why, /eleu0e asCs, are there so many literary writers who do not enAoy good healthB )t#s because he>she eEperiences a %lood o% li%e $%lot de vie&, be it the weaC health o% Spino0a or I-.:. or /.'.J Lawrence. )t corresponds to what /eleu0e said earlier about the complaint? these writers have seen something too enormous %or them, they are seers, visionaries, unable to handle it so it breaCs them. Why is CheChov broCen to such an eEtentB 'e <saw< something. (hilosophers and literary writers are in the same situation, /eleu0e argues. -here are things we manage to see, and in some ways, we never recover, never return. -his happens %re;uently %or authors, but generally, these are percepts at the border o% being ungraspable, o% being thinCable. So between the creation o% a great character and a great concept, so many linCs eEist that one can see it as constituting somewhat the same enterprise. (arnet asCs i% /eleu0e considers himsel% to be a writer in philosophy, as one would say writer in a literary sense. /eleu0e answers that he doesn#t Cnow i% he#s a writer in philosophy, but that he Cnows that every great philosopher is a great writer. (arnet observes that there seems to be a nostalgia %or creating %ictional worC when one is a great philosopher, but /eleu0e says no, that does not even come up, it#s as i% you asCed a painter why he doesn#t create musicB /eleu0e admits that one could conceive o% a philosopher who wrote novels, o% course, why notB /eleu0e says he does not consider Sartre to have been a novelist, although he did try to be, and in general, /eleu0e sees no really great philosophers who were also important novelists. 3ut on the other hand, /eleu0e %eels that philosophers have created characters, notably and eminently (lato, and certainly 7iet0sche, with Yarathustra. So these are intersections that are discussed constantly, and /eleu0e considers the creation o% Yarathustra to be an immense success politically and literarily, Aust as (lato#s characters were. -hese are points about which one cannot be completely certain whether they are concepts or characters, and are perhaps the most beauti%ul moments. (arnet re%ers to /eleu0e#s love %or secondary literary authors, liCe Qilliers de l#)sle. 1dam, Resti% de la 3retonne, asCing i% he has always cultivated this a%%ection. 'ere, /eleu0e covers his %ace with one hand as he responds that he %inds it truly bi0arre to hear Qilliers re%erred to as a secondary author $/eleu0e laughs&. )% you consider that ;uestion... $he pauses, shrugging his shoulders& 'e says that there is something really shame%ul, entirely shame%ul... 'e recalls that when he was ;uite young, he liCed the idea o% reading an author#s worC in his entirety, the complete worCs. 1s a result, he had great a%%ection not %or secondary authors, although his a%%ection sometimes coincided with them, but %or authors who had written little. Some worCs were too enormous, overwhelming %or him, liCe 'ugo#s, such that /eleu0e was ready to say the 'ugo wasn#t a very good writer. On the other hand, /eleu0e Cnew the worCs o% (aul.Louis Courrier nearly by heart, ;uite deeply. So /eleu0e admits to having this penchant %or so.called secondary authors, although Qilliers is not a secondary author. Joubert was also an author he Cnew deeply, and one reason why he Cnew these authors was %or a rather shame%ul reason, he admits? it had %or him a certain prestige to be %amiliar with authors that were hardly Cnown... 3ut that was a Cind o% mania, /eleu0e concludes, and it tooC him ;uite a while to learn Aust how great 'ugo is, and that the si0e o% worC was no measure.

/eleu0e continues in this vein, agreeing that in so.called secondary literatures... 'e insists that in Russian literature, %or eEample, it#s not limited to /ostoyevsCi and -olstoy, but one cannot call I7iColaiJ LesCov secondary as there is so much that is astonishing in LesCov. So these are great geniuses. /eleu0e then says that he %eels he has little to say on this point, on secondary authors, but what he is happy about is to have tried to %ind in any unCnown author something that might show him a concept or an eEtraordinary character. 3ut yes, /eleu0e says, he has not engaged in any systematic research $in this domain&. (arnet pursues this by re%erring again to his worC on (roust as the only sustained worC that he ever devoted to a single author, although literature is such a re%erence in his philosophy. So she wonders about him never having devoted a %ull.length booC to literature, a re%lective booC $livre de pens2e& on literature. /eleu0e says he Aust has not had the time, but that he plans to do so. (arnet says that this has haunted him, and he replies, he plans to do it because he wants to. (arnet asCs i% it will be a booC o% criticism, and /eleu0e says rather than that, it will be on the problem o% what writing means, %or him, in literature. 'e says that (arnet is %amiliar with his whole research program, so they#ll see i% he has the time. -he last ;uestion on the letter L re%ers to the %act that while /eleu0e reads many great !canonic, authors, one does not get the impression that he reads many contemporary authors. /eleu0e says he understands what she means, and can answer ;uicCly? it#s not that he does not liCe to read them, it#s that literature is a truly speciali0ed activity in which one has to have training $%ormation&, something di%%icult in contemporary production. )t#s a ;uestion o% taste, Aust liCe people %inding new paintersK one has to learn how $to paint&. /eleu0e says he greatly admires people who go into galleries and %eel that there is someone who is truly a painter, but he can#t, and he eEplains why? it tooC him %ive years, he says, to understand .. not 3ecCett, that happened immediately .. but what Cind o% innovation Robbe."rillet#s writing represented. /eleu0e claims to have been one o% the stupidest o% the stupid when talCing about Robbe."rillet at the beginning. /eleu0e does not consider himsel% to be a discoverer in this area, whereas in philosophy, he is more con%ident because he is sensitive to a new tone and what, on the other hand, is completely nil and redundant. )n the domain o% the novel, /eleu0e says he is ;uite sensitive enough to Cnow what has already been said and is o% no interest. 'e did have one discovery in his own way, someone he Audged to be a great young novelist, 1rmand =arachi.I)n <)ntroduction? Rhi0ome< in 1 -housand (lateaus, /eleu0e and "uattari re%er to =arachi#s booC, La /islocation, as an eEample !among several others, o% a model o% nomadic and rhi0omatic writing !NO.N8,.J So the ;uestion (arnet raises, /eleu0e says, is ;uite sound, but he argues that one should not believe that, without eEperience, one can Audge what is being created. What /eleu0e pre%ers and what brings him great Aoy is when something that he is creating o%% on his own has an echo in a young painter#s or a young writer#s worC. )n that way, /eleu0e %eels that he can have a Cind o% encounter with what is happening currently, with another mode o% creation. /eleu0e says that his insu%%iciency as regard Audgments is compensated by these encounters with people who resonate with what he is doing, and inversely. (arnet says that painting and cinema, %or eEample, are %avored %or such encounters since

he goes to galleries and to the movies, but that she has trouble imagining him strolling into a booCstore and looCing at booCs that Aust came out in the previous %ew months. /eleu0e says she#s right, but that this is linCed to the idea that literature is not very strong at the moment, an idea that is a preconceived one in his mind, that literature is so corrupted by the system o% distribution, o% literary pri0es, that it#s not even worth the trouble.

( as in (alady0'llness
1s (arnet announces this title, /eleu0e ;uietly repeats the word <maladie<. (arnet recounts that Aust a%ter completing P/i%%erence and RepetitionP in 45L6, /eleu0e was hospitali0ed %or a very severe case o% tuberculosis. So, Aust as /eleu0e was re%erring to Spino0a#s and 7iet0sche#s weaC state o% health, %rom 45L6 onward, /eleu0e was %orced to live with illness. She asCs i% he had Cnown %or a while that he had tuberculosis. /eleu0e says that he Cnew he had something %or ;uite a while, but liCe a lot o% people, he had no real desire to %ind out, and also he Aust assumed it was cancer, and wasn#t in a big hurry. So he did not Cnow it was tuberculosis, not until he was spitting up blood. 'e says that he was the child o% someone with tuberculosis, but at the moment o% his diagnosis, there was no real danger thanCs to antibiotics. )t was serious, and a %ew years earlier, he might not have survived, whereas in 45L6, it was no longer a problem. )t#s an illness without much pain, and so he could say he was ill, but he maintains that it#s a great privilege, an illness without pain and curable, hardly an illness at all. 3e%ore it, he says, his health was not all that great, he became %atigued easily. -he ;uestion, says /eleu0e, is whether the illness made something easier, not necessarily more success%ul though, speci%ically an enterprise o% thought, and /eleu0e thinCs that a very weaCened state o% illness %avors this. )t#s not that one is tuned in to one#s own li%e, but %or him, it did seem liCe he was tuned into li%e. -uning into li%e is something other than thinCing about one#s own health. 'e repeats that he thinCs a %ragile state o% health %avors this Cind o% tuning.in. When he was speaCing earlier about authors liCe Lawrence or Spino0a, to some eEtent they saw something so enormous, so overwhelming that it was too much %or them. )t really means, /eleu0e says, that one cannot thinC i% one isn#t already in a domain that eEceeds one#s strength to some eEtent, that maCes one %ragile. 'e repeats that he always had a %ragile state o% health, and this was underscored when he was diagnosed with tuberculosis, at which point he ac;uired all the rights accorded to a %ragile state o% health. (arnet points out that /eleu0e#s relations with doctors and drugs changed %rom that moment onward? he had to go see doctors, taCe drugs regularly, and it was a constraint imposed on him, all the more so since he does not liCe doctors. /eleu0e says yes, although it#s not a personal thing between him and doctorsK he points out that he has been treated by some very charming, <delicious< doctors. What he disliCes is a Cind o% power, or a way in which they manipulate power .. here /eleu0e points out that, once again, they return to ;uestions previously discussed, as i% hal% o% the letters already discussed were encompassed and %olded bacC upon the totality.

/eleu0e states that he %inds odious the way doctors manipulate power, and that he has a great hatred, not %or individuals, but %or medical power and the way doctors use it. -here is only one thing that made him happy, he says, as much as it displeased them. )t would occur when they used their machines and tests on him. 'e considers these to be very unpleasant %or a patient since these are tests that really seem completely useless, eEcept to maCe the doctors %eel better about diagnoses that they already have made. )% they had so much talent, says /eleu0e, then these doctors seem only to use these cruel tests to maCe themselves %eel better by playing with these inadmissible tests. So what made /eleu0e ;uite happy was each time he had to be tested by one o% their machines .. his breath was too inaudible to register on their machines, or they weren#t able to give him a cardiac test .. they got %urious with him, they hated this poor patient, because they could accept ;uite easily the %act their diagnosis might be wrong, but not that their machine wouldn#t worC on him. +oreover, /eleu0e Audges them to be %ar too uncultured, or when they attempt to be cultured, the results are catastrophic. -hey are very strange people, doctors, but /eleu0e#s consolation is that i% they earn a lot o% money, they don#t have time to spend it and to taCe advantage o% it because they lead a very hard li%e. So it#s true, /eleu0e repeats, he does not %ind doctors very attractive, but individuals can be ;uite eE;uisite, yet they treat people liCe dogs in their o%%icial %unctions. So it really reveals class struggle because i% one is a little bit wealthy, they are at least a bit polite, eEcept in surgery. Surgeons are a di%%erent case altogether. /eleu0e says that some Cind o% re%orm o% doctors is needed. (arnet asCs i% /eleu0e taCes drugs all the time, and /eleu0e says yes, he liCes doing that, it doesn#t bother him eEcept that they tend to tire him out. (arnet is surprised that /eleu0e actually enAoys taCing medicine, and /eleu0e says, yes, when there#s a lotD )n his current state !in 4566,, his little pile every morning is a real hoot $bou%%onnerie&D 3ut he also considers them to be ;uite use%ul. /eleu0e says he#s always been in %avor o% drugs, even in the domain o% psychiatry. $/eleu0e rubs his %ace and eyes o%ten as he answers and listens& (arnet says that with this %atigue connected to illness, one thinCs o% 3lanchot writing about %atigue and %riendship. She says that %atigue plays a great role in his li%e, and sometimes one gets the impression that it#s an eEcuse %or avoiding a lot o% things that bore>bother him, and that %atigue has always been very use%ul. /eleu0e says that being a%%ected in this way, this thought leads bacC to the theme o% %orce $puissance&, i.e. what it is to reali0e a little %orce, to do what one can. /eleu0e says that it#s an aw%ully complicated notion, connected to what it is that constitutes one#s lacC o% %orce $impuissance&, %or eEample, one#s %ragile health or illness. /eleu0e maintains that it#s a ;uestion o% Cnowing what use to maCe o% it so that, through it, one can recuperate a little %orce. So /eleu0e is certain that illness should be used %or something, and not merely in relation to li%e %or which it should give one some %eeling. =or /eleu0e, illness is not an enemy, not something that gives the %eeling o% death, but rather, something that gives a %eeling o% li%e, but not in the sense that <) still want to live, and so once )#m cured, )#ll start living.< /eleu0e says he cannot thinC o% anything more abAect in the world than what people call a <bon vivant.< On the contrary, <bon vivants< are men with very weaC health. So %or /eleu0e the ;uestion is clear? illness sharpens a Cind o% vision o% li%e or a sense o% li%e. 'e emphasi0es that when he says vision, vision

o% li%e, li%e, it#s in the sense o% him saying <to see li%e,< these di%%iculties that sharpen, that give li%e a vision o% li%e, illness, li%e in all its %orce, in all its beauty. /eleu0e %eels ;uite certain o% this, he says. 3ut how can one have secondary bene%its %rom illness, he asCsB One has to use it, even in order to be a bit more %ree, otherwise it#s very troublesome, %or eEample, i% one worCs too hard, something one ought not to do. -o worC too hard .. i% it#s a ;uestion o% worCing to reali0e any %orce, it#s worth it, but worCing too hard socially ../eleu0e says he can#t understand a doctor worCing too hard because he has too many patients. So, to reali0e a bene%it %rom illness is, in %act, to %ree onesel% %rom things that one cannot be %ree %rom in ordinary li%e. /eleu0e says that, personally, he never liCed traveling, because he never really Cnew how, although he has great respect %or travelers. 3ut the %act that his health was so weaCened insured his being able to decline invitations to travel. Or going to bed too late was always di%%icult %or him, so once he had his %ragile health, there was no longer any ;uestion o% going to bed too late. 'e says he#s not talCing about people closest to him in his li%e, but %rom social duties, illness is eEtraordinarily liberating, is really good in that way. (arnet asCs i% /eleu0e sees %atigue as an illness, and /eleu0e says it#s something else. =or him, it means? )#ve done what ) could today, that#s it, the day is over. 'e sees %atigue biologically as the day being done. )t#s possible that it could last %or other reasons, social reasons, but %atigue is the biological %ormulation o% the day being done, o% one not being able to draw anything %urther %rom onesel%. So, i% you taCe it this way, says /eleu0e, it#s not a bothersome %eeling, it#s rather pleasant, unless one hasn#t done anything, then indeed, it#s ;uite agoni0ing. )t#s to these states o% %atigue, these %limsy, %leeting states $2tats cotonneuE& that /eleu0e has always been sensitive. 'e liCes that state, the end o% something, and it probably has a name in music, a coda, %atigue as coda. (arnet says that be%ore discussing old age, they might discuss his relationship to %ood. /eleu0e ;uietly says <ahD la vieillesse< $ah, old age&. (arnet says he liCes %ood that seems to bring him strength and vitality, liCe marrow and lobster. She points out that he has a special relationship to %ood since he doesn#t liCe eating. /eleu0e says it#s true. =or him, eating is the most boring thing in the world. /rinCing is something eEtraordinarily interesting, but eating bores him to death. 'e detests eating alone, but eating with someone he liCes changes everything, but it does not trans%orm %ood, it only helps him stand eating, maCing it less boring even i% it happens that he has really nothing to say. 1ll people say that about eating alone, /eleu0e maintains, and it proves how boring eating is since most people admit that eating alone is an abominable tasC. 'aving said this, /eleu0e continues, he certainly has things he enAoys immensely $mes %Ttes&, that are rather special, despite some universal disgust he does have. 'e says he can stand it when others eat cheese .. (arnet says that /eleu0e doesn#t liCe cheese .. and %or someone who hates cheese, he says that he#s one o% the rare people to be tolerant, not to get up and leave or throw the person out eating cheese. =or /eleu0e, the taste %or cheese is a little liCe a Cind o% cannibalism $here (arnet laughs out loud&, a total horror. Continuing, /eleu0e imagines that someone might asC him what his %avorite meal might be, an utterly cra0y undertaCing, he says, but he always comes bacC to three things that he always %ound sublime, but that are ;uite properly disgusting? tongue, brains, and marrow. -hese are all ;uite nourishing. -here are a %ew restaurants in (aris, /eleu0e

says, that serve marrow, and a%ter, he can eat nothing else. -hey prepare these little marrow s;uares, really ;uite %ascinating, he says, brains, tongue... -hen, /eleu0e tries to situate this taste di%%erently, in relation to things they#ve already discussed? these things constitute a Cind o% trinity since one might say .. /eleu0e admits that this is a bit too anecdotic .. that brains are "od the %ather, marrow, the son since it#s liCe vertebrates that are little crabs. So "od is the brain, the vertebrates the son, Jesus, and tongue is the 'oly Spirit, which is the %orce o% the tongue. Or, and /eleu0e hesitates a bit here, it#s the brain that is the concept, marrow is a%%ect, and tongue, the percept. /eleu0e tells (arnet not to asC him why, it#s Aust that he sees these trinities as very ... $he does not complete the sentence&... So, he concludes, that would maCe a %antastic meal. 'e asCs i% he#s ever had all three together at onceB +aybe on a birthday with %riends $(arnet laughs here&, they might maCe him a meal liCe $/eleu0e smiles at (arnet&, ehB he says, a party $%Tte& $'e laughs, very amused&. (arnet says besides eating these three things, she wants to discuss old ageK /eleu0e says, yes, eating all three would be a bit much, and (arnet says, laughing, yes, disgustingD /eleu0e picCs up the thread on old age, again saying so%tly, <ahD la vieillesseD< /eleu0e says there is someone who has spoCen about old age very well, a novel by Raymond /evos that, %or /eleu0e, is the best statement on old age. /eleu0e sees it as a splendid age. O% course, there are problems, %or eEample, one is overcome by a certain slowness. 3ut the worst is when someone says, <no, you#re not so old,< because in saying that, he doesn#t understand what the complaint is. /eleu0e says, ) complain, ) say, oh, )#m old, that is, ) invoCe the %orces o% old age, but then somebody tries to cheer me up by saying <no, you#re not so old.< So, says /eleu0e, ) smacC him with my cane $alors Ae vais lui %outre un coup de canne& $(arnet laughs&, because he#s so %ree about saying that )#m in the old age complaint. /eleu0e says it would be better Aust to say? <yes, in %act you#re rightD< but it#s pure Aoy, says /eleu0e, Aoy everywhere eEcept in this bit o% slowness. What#s aw%ul in old age, /eleu0e continues, is pain and misery, but they are not old age. /eleu0e says he means that what maCes old age pathetic, something sad, is poor old people who do not have enough money to live, nor a minimum o% health, only this very weaC health, and a lot o% su%%ering. -hat#s what is abominable, but it#s not old age, /eleu0e argues, it#s not an evil at all. With enough money and a little bit o% health remaining, it#s great because it#s only in old age that one has arrived. )t#s not a %eeling o% triumph, Aust the %act o% having reached it, a%ter all, in a world that included wars and %ilthy viruses, one has crossed through all that. 1nd it#s an age, he continues, in which it#s only a ;uestion o% a single thing, o% being. 7o longer o% being this or being that, but being old is Aust being, period, that#s it. 'e is, ;uite simply. Who has the right Aust simply to beB =or an elderly person can say he>she has plans, but it#s true and not true, not true in the way that someone who is OU has plans. /eleu0e says that he hopes to complete two booCs that he really is committed to, one on literature, another on philosophy, but that does not change the %act that he#s %ree o% all plans. When one is old, /eleu0e says, one is no longer susceptible>sensitive, one no longer has any %undamental disappointments, one tends to be a lot more disinterested, and one really liCes people %or themselves. =or /eleu0e, it seems that old

age hones his perception o% things that he never had seen be%ore, elegant things $des 2l2gances&, to which he had never been sensitive. 'e sees better, he maintains, because he looCs at someone else %or him>hersel% as i% it were a ;uestion o% carrying away an image, a percept o% the person. /eleu0e admits that he has days that pass with their amount o% %atigue, but %or him, %atigue is not an illness, but something else, not death, Aust the signal o% day#s end. O% course, there are agonies in old age, he says, but one has to ward them o%%, and it#s easy to ward them o%%, a little liCe with loup.garous or vampires, one can#t be alone when it starts getting cold because one is too slow to survive. So one has to avoid some things, but what#s marvelous, he says, is that people release you, society lets you go. 3eing released by society, he says, is so wonder%ul, not that society really had /eleu0e in its grips, but someone who isn#t /eleu0e#s age, not retired, cannot suspect how much Aoy one can %eel being released by society. Obviously, he continues, when he hears the elderly complaining, these are old people who don#t want to be old or not as old as they are. -hey can#t stand being retired, and /eleu0e doesn#t Cnow why since they might discover something, and he does not believe in retired people not being able to %ind something to do. /eleu0e says that one has to give onesel% a shaCe $se secouer& so that all the parasites that one has on his>her bacC the whole li%e through %all o%%, and what#s le%t around youB 7othing but the people that you love and that support you and that love you, i% they %eel the need. -he rest have let go o% you. 1nd what is really tough is when something catches hold o% you again. /eleu0e says he can#t stand society, and only Cnows it now through his li%e in retirement. 'e sees himsel% as being completely unCnown to society. What#s catastrophic, he declares, is when someone who thinCs he still belongs to society asCs him %or an interview. /eleu0e pauses to say that the 13C (rimer %ilming is di%%erent since what they#re doing belongs entirely to his dream o% old age. 3ut when someone seeCs an interview, he would liCe to asC i% the person#s %eeling oC $Ga va pas, la tTteB&. -hat person isn#t aware that /eleu0e is old and society has let go o% himB $/eleu0e laughs& 3ut /eleu0e thinCs people con%use two things? one should not talC about the elderly, but about misery and su%%ering, %or when one is old, miserable, and su%%ering, there is not a word to describe it. 1 pure elderly person $un pur vieuE& who is nothing other than elderly means that one Aust is. (arnet says that with /eleu0e being ill, tired, and old, $/eleu0e laughs& it#s sometimes di%%icult %or people around him, less elderly than him, his children, his wi%e. /eleu0e responds that there#s not much problem %or his children. -here could have been i% they were younger, but now they#re big enough to live on their own, and /eleu0e is not a burden %or them, not a problem, eEcept perhaps in terms o% a%%ection, liCe them saying, oh, he really looCs too tired. 1s %or =anny, his wi%e, /eleu0e doesn#t thinC it#s a problem, although it could be, he doesn#t Cnow. )t#s ;uite di%%icult, he says, to asC someone that one loves what they might have done in another li%e. /eleu0e guesses that =anny would have liCed to travel more, but he wonders what she would have discovered so di%%erent i% she had travelled. She !and (arnet, he says, have a strong literary bacCground, so she was able to %ind splendid things through reading& novels, and that, says /eleu0e, e;uals traveling. Certainly there are problems, but they are beyond /eleu0e#s understanding, he admits.

(arnet says that, to %inish up, she wants to asC about his proAects, liCe the one on literature or PWhat )s (hilosophyBP. When he undertaCes a proAect liCe these, what does he %ind enAoyable as an old man taCing these onB She reminds him that earlier he said that perhaps he won#t %inish them, but that there is something amusing in them. /eleu0e says that it#s something ;uite marvelous, a whole evolution, and when one is old, one has a certain idea o% what one hopes to do that becomes increasingly pure, more and more puri%ied. /eleu0e says he conceives o% the %amous Japanese line drawings, lines that are so pure and then there is nothing, nothing but little lines. -hat#s how he conceives o% an old man#s proAect, something that would be so pure, so nothing, and at the same time, everything, marvelous. 'e means this as reaching a sobriety, something that can only come late in li%e. 'e points to PWhat is (hilosophyBP, his research on it? %irst, it#s ;uite enAoyable $trZs gai& at his age to %eel liCe he Cnows the answer, and liCe he#s the only one to Cnow, as i% he got on a bus, and nobody else there could Cnow. $(arnet laughs& 1ll o% this, %or /eleu0e, is very enAoyable. (erhaps he could have created a booC on PWhat is (hilosophyBP thirty years ago, one that would have been a very very di%%erent booC %rom the way he conceives it now. -here is a Cind o% sobriety such that... whether he succeeds or not .. he Cnows that it#s now that he can conceive o% this, that be%ore he couldn#t have done it, but now he sees himsel% able to do it, to do something, in any case, that doesn#t resemble ... oC $/eleu0e does not %inish the sentence, %ree0e %rame and credits roll at the end o% tape two&.