To Read & To Write

For a philosophical text translated from French to English, reading Lyotard's Libidinal Economy (1970) wasn't too difficult, albeit requiring, of course, ample time and concentration. And for the book having been published a little over fifty years ago, the text remains significant today as a commentary on those forces that drive us, either towards death or into life, passionately, lovingly, flailingly, pathetically, skillfully, terribly, hatefully, so on and so forth... enmeshing us within Lyotard 's concept of the libidinal band - that kind of mobius strip exemplifying the only kind of economy we'd want to be a part of - one that knows no difference between the revealing physical exteriors and the inner, innate, structures that define what lies within. Much of the fascinating aspects of this text ride on the socio-cultural manifestations concerning how the libidinal economy flourishes (as opposed to an economy purely political or purely religious). Sexuality, Marxis...

“Ignorance is a treasure of infinite price that most men squander, when they should cherish its least fragments; some ruin it by educating themselves, others, unable so much as to conceive of making use of it, let it waste away. Quite on the contrary, we should search for it assiduously in what we think we know best. Leaf through a dictionary or try to make one, and you will find that every word covers and masks a well so bottomless that the questions you toss into it arouse no more than an echo.” Paul Valery’s essay, “Sea Shells”, which, in its Beacon Press Edition, is put beautifully within a red covered and gold titled illustrated book, is, quite simply, a masterpiece of thought. It makes sense that this book would not be classified under philosophical works, but rather a form of (literary) criticism and theory. In it, Valery thinks about seashells. His goal is to write down his thoughts and observations of and about seashells without using any pure framework. Even so, this...

“Incidents” by Roland Barthes is a book containing excerpts of deeply personal journal entries written by the French philosopher in Morocco and France during the 1960s and 1970s. They were published posthumously, and provide unique insight into the uninhibited mind of this thinker. His work is mostly academic, but “Incidents” reminds us that he was not only a theorist, but he was human, too. Barthes - *you creep* - ran through my head many times as I read this – for all his looking he doesn’t seem to feel shame at watching others either, particularly others who may not have as sharp faculties as he had. That being said, I never once felt awkward or uncomfortable reading “Incidents”. Perhaps he did feel, if not shame, than a frustration at his addiction to watching, to yes, I would even say judging, people by their actions as well as appearances – this one dirty, this one handsome, this one knew what he was talking about, this one lying… keep in mind that Barthes was “studyi...