Really guys, a MAN for president?!?!!

To: The United States of America

From: A concerned citizen

Now, it doesn't take a genius to realize the world is changing and there are some serious issues the country needs to consider when voting for the next president.  The United States is at a drastic point in its history and we don't need it skyrocketing out of control.  So, I got two words and a letter for you: George W. Bush.  People, really?  Since when did you think it would be okay to elect a man as president?  I mean, I'm not trying to be sexist but it’s science!  You can't argue with science!  Men are feelings-oriented.  It’s just a fact of life.  It’s inevitable that at least once a month they get overwhelmed with their emotions, and who knows what they might do!  There's no way of telling when they're going to get PMS—or Pissy man syndrome as I call it—and with the way men get at this time of the month, they might just decide to blow up a country that pissed them off!  It’s science people; it’s in their hormones—their testosterone. They just get too upset and emotional too often to be effective leaders. 

As for other matters, let’s be honest.  Whether you want to say it or not, we all know the man's place is in the home.  That's what he does best!  He should feel proud of what he was genetically made to do: support his family and kids and take care of the home.  Men are made to be naturals at it!  Hell, God made Adam first to support and serve the rest of the family with everything he had, including his rib.  Not only is it where he should be, but man's paternal instincts would make him too sympathetic to situations where he may have to be a little tough.  We can't have someone like Bush thinking about the enemy’s families and then turn his eyes so the enemy can bomb us.  And back to nature, when he messes up he's going to be so upset he'll need someone to rescue him. The job is just too dangerous for a man to be in charge!

Finally, let’s get to the facts that no one else wants to say.  How long does it take your man to do his hair in the morning?  World War III could start and end before most men finish doing their hair in the morning.  And when he's finally finished, he STILL has to pick out the perfect outfit which in turn will probably distract the public from listening to him.  It’s embedded in our society and inevitable that a man will be concerned with how he looks. And moreover, men are too promiscuous.  A man president would try to find a way to spend the national budget on shoes and ties for his perfect outfits, and then turn around and cause a media frenzy around what he's wearing instead of paying attention to, I don't know if you remember this, but THE COUNTRY?! And let’s say someone criticizes his outfit or says that men take criticism too harsh!  They take everything someone says to them personally.  There is no way they could hear criticism and not cry and be offended.  What would we do if our leader was being criticized and in front of Chinese political leaders he just cries?  China would say: "Um America? Your son is crying.You’re going to have to come pick him up.  Yes, he took his nap and ate all his food.  We told him he couldn't have what he wanted and he hasn't stopped crying, sorry." 

People, it’s natural to want to make things equal.  I mean, men deserve rights too!  But when it comes to leadership, we have to think of all the factors in science and what we know about men.  All I am asking is before you elect our newest leader, just think about what a man is capable of doing to our country.  The possibilities are horrifying.

"If you're gay, you're gay."

I've seen this video about two dozen times over the past year or so and if you want to know the truth, I still think its funny. I get a kick out of this clip for what I consider obvious reasons––the classic big hair and night gown, the perfection of the Long Island mother accent, the absurd one liners. But what really gets me time after time is the familiarity.

I can't help but feel like I know this woman. She's in Long Island, Boston, and everywhere in between. I've seen her at family functions, town meetings, in church and out at the bar. Shes my neighbor. Shes my great aunt. Shes my 6th grade teacher. And I think if you really think about it, she is yours too. 

At one time or another, more often for some than others, we have all witnessed the attitude of this character in regards to homosexuality because its everywhere.

The satirical sketch comedy by John Roberts, writer and star of the video, makes the devastation and confusion of a mother discovering her son is "gay", a loaded label full of negative connotations, appear as realistic and ridiculous as it truly can be. 

In Judith Butler's essay, "Imitation and Gender Insubordination", she discusses indentity politics and how assuming the identity of a lesbian can be liberating yet simultaneously perpetuate the oppression of the homosexuals by validating heterosexist thought.

Heterosexuality has gained advantage by claiming the dominant role of the "natural." Our society tends to view anything that contradicts the heterosexual lifestyle as strange and clashing. Butler argues that "gender is an imitation for which there is no original," meaning that the idea that heterosexuality is the norm is a falacy that lives on through repitition. 

Saying "I am a lesbian" poses a problem for Butler. She cannot accept or reject the label because she feels "identity categories tend to be instruments of regulatory regimes" but also identifies with the meaning of "lesbian", at least in part. Butler does not refuse the sign of "lesbian" but she does refuse any stability of its definitive meaning. Any label can be restricting and all labels come with connotations both negative and otherwise.  

Which brings me back to the video. "Gaaaahd!," wails the Long Island mother in a moment of pure anguish. She wants an explanation for her sons defiance of heteronormativity. She places blame in unreasonable places. "Gay," she says, "he moved to the city and now hes gay."

The word "gay" means something bad to this woman. It means different, unnatural and it comes with a feminine hand motion. It's breaking her feminine heart because, you know, women are naturally emotional. ...Right?

Wrong! Or so I've been told. 

The meaning of woman (or man for that matter) is not concrete. This may not surprise you nearly as much as it did me but at the ripe age of 22, I'm learning. Before reading Butler and our class discussion, I hadn't given very much thought to gender roles or what comes with identifying as gay, straight or anything for that matter. I knew that as a woman, I could have a variety of "feminine" as well as "masculine" qualities, but I had never thought about what those terms really mean or where they came from. 

I can see now how identity politics create a divide between all people. Language forces us to think in terms of wrong and right, natural and unnatural but none of it is authentic. Reading Butler and class discussion has been personally enlightening––I only hope I can someday share my new perspective with the distraught mother of a "gay" man.

Nothing Essential

                Helene Cixous and Judith Butler are both post-structuralist feminists.  Both theorists discuss the notions of masculinity and femininity, but while Cixous acknowledges binaries that are constructed by language, Butler examines the need for those concepts, which she sees as essentializing, in feminism.  Cixous, in her essay “Sorties,” begins her conversation by emphasizing the hierarchy of binaries and how they have influenced philosophical and literary history.  The notion of “difference” controls all thinking and naturalizes the superiority that is established from those differences.  She shows that logocentrism and the existence of the active/passive binary have created a man/woman binary in which the man is always privileged, yet she sees that the binary is unstable.  Her discussion centers on a desire to deconstruct language and the masculine/feminine binary, indicating the influence of Derrida in her work.  

                Cixous argues against Freud and Jones, who identify a “specific femininity” and reinforce phallocentric superiority (Rice & Waugh 233).  She writes, “We must guard against falling complacently or blindly into the essentialist ideological interpretation, as, for example, Freud and Jones, in different ways, ventured to do” (Rice & Waugh 232).  In this sense, Cixous, influenced by Lacan, is not essentialist as Foucauldians would argue.  Rather, she acknowledges the existence of the binary and looks to deconstruct that.  She views the binary and history’s use of the binary as something constructed in the symbolic through language.  This structure is ideological rather than essential, as we interpret her argument.  Although she stylistically rejects the masculine linear style of writing, her rejection of that style could be seen as a further attempt to deconstruct the binary rather than an essentializing quality of her work.   She writes that were the language and binaries to be deconstructed, “That which appears as ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ today would no longer amount to the same thing.  The general logic of difference would no longer fit into the opposition that still dominates.  The difference would be a crowning display of new differences” (Rice & Waugh 234).  Therefore, gender is something that is created within the realm of language rather than essential.  This deconstruction, she argues, would allow the woman to reach jouissance and liberation.  

                Lacan’s psychoanalytic theory, focusing on language, influences Cixous’s work.  Ashley Shelden’s guest post argues that, “There is no human subject, for Lacan, before language,” showing that there is no identity.  Furthermore, the idea of identity creates anxiety as the subject knows that it will always be lacking and unstable.  Cixous, in using Lacan’s theories, shows that the deconstruction of language and therefore the binaries is what will allow a woman to achieve jouissance and a destabilization of the self.        Butler, in Bodies that Matter, argues that gender is a performance rather than something essential.  To Butler, a Foucauldian, resists identity politics and the notion of an essential feminine.  Further, she rejects naturalizing a gender identity.  For Butler, gender is an example of iteration, showing that heterosexuality is always already a performance.  Through the influence of Derrida, she finds that the subject does not have a center and is not autonomous, indicating that there is nothing essential about someone, and therefore there is no essential feminine.  She finds Cixous’s work problematic, criticizing it for essentializing the feminine.  Contrary to Cixous, Butler uses a more traditional and linear style of writing, further denying the existence of an essential feminine.  For Butler, there is no essential masculine or feminine because of the performative nature of gender.  

                Heterosexuality as a performance demonstrates that the gender norms are constantly at risk and unstable.  Referring to gender norms, she writes, “Such norms are continually haunted by their own inefficacy; hence the anxiously repeated effort to install and augment their jurisdiction,” (Rice & Waugh 247).  Here she acknowledges that gender norms need to be maintained and therefore do not embody someone.  According to Aurelia Armstrong, “a Foudauldian approach to identity production demonstrates the role played by cultural norms in regulating how we embody or perform our gender identities.”  Armstrong indicates that Butler’s rejection of the essential feminine in feminism for it generalizes and establishes gender norms that insist on an identity and stable subject.   There is no stable subject, according to Butler, and it is through the performance of gender that the male/female binary is created and stabilized to begin.

Heterosexuality depends on stabilizing the binary between male and female, but according to Butler, drag disrupts this binary and emphasizes that gender is a performance and not an essence.  She writes, “What is ‘performed’ in drag is, of course, the sign of gender, a sign that is not the same as the body that it figures, but cannot be read without it,” (Rice & Waugh 247).  Drag therefore shows that the normativity of heterosexuality is illogical and must be a performance, because its dependence on masculinity and femininity insists on those essential qualities, which Butler finds impossible.  Butler therefore uses drag to emphasize that gender is only a performance.  

In terms of the “feminine” role in feminism, we argue that femininity is a capitalist construct projected on society through the hegemony.  For example, the ideal feminine identity accepted in the 1950’s and even before and after was one of being a housewife submissive to the needs of her husband.  This projection was offered through ISAs which as Althusser and Marxists argue construct the hegemonic ideals and perpetuate them in society.  Females believe their femininity is part of being a free autonomous subject with a unique personality when in fact they are being controlled internally.  Therefore, we would agree more along the lines of Butler through a Marxist approach that femininity is a performance that has been projected by the hegemony onto females through ISAs in a way that makes females believe they are choosing within their femininity but they are actually being interpellated by that femininity.  There is no gender binary because gender socialization is a corporate construct and therefore is a performance.  In this way, we are all in drag because a female only dresses as a female because it is a social construct, and a male only dresses as a male because it is the social, capitalist construct; however, if it weren’t for the hegemony a male may be dressing as a female and vice versa.  Therefore, the only reason there is a feminine identity to begin with is because the hegemony has created a notion of feminine through the corporate culture and projected it through ISAs.  The repetition of femininity, particularly through ISAs that privilege masculinity and normalize heterosexuality, shows that gender norms are always at risk of destabilizing.  Hence, there is no place for the “feminine” in femininity because outside of the social structure the feminine doesn’t exist.

Baudrillard: The Reality of Illusion

Rufo’s post puts Baudrillard’s complicated and intricate theories into historical perspective by discussing his original position as a Marxist looking to improve and expand upon the theory. Baudrillard discussed the importance of the understanding of “sign-value” in that an object is not worth what it is but instead what it represents. Rufo gives the example of brand name clothing such as Tommy Hilfiger. 

I found this example particularly interesting and disturbing. As a college student, keeping up with fashion is some what of a priority and a struggle. Through Capitalist ideologies, we are lead to believe that we need to work in order to have money for expensive things and that one tshirt is worth more money than another. However, it is not the material or labor that produced that shirt that we pay for, its the logo that represents what we want and how we want to be perceived. 

More importantly, Rufo explains that Baudrillard feels that Marx made a big mistake when he “naturalizes” labor. Marx claimed that in a communist society man would still work because he instinctively wants to feel useful and produce materials. This is an ideology that supports capitalism as well because there is truly no such thing as “natural,” only ideas and traditions that are passed on throughout society. Marx believes it should be the workers who control means of production instead of the capitalists but Baudrillard argues that this works in the capitalists favor. He thinks by claiming that labor is “natural” labor becomes the main focus, making the working class unconcerned and uninvolved with the means on production.

The concept of mass production relates directly to Baudrillard’s theories about simulation because the production of goods is constantly making it easier for people with less money to “simulate” the possessions and lifestyles of those in the higher class. I thought this was a particularly interesting concept because it really continues to dismiss any notion of originality and focus on the reality that there are only copies everywhere we go. He relates this not only to material things but to theories as well, such as Marxism, that present themselves as original thoughts and theoretical truths but in creating this insight they are also producing a simulation of insight.

Rufo goes on to discuss Baudrillards orders of simulation. He uses money as an example of how the orders work. Rufo explains how money starts out as a representation of goods but eventually has no correlation to anything real. We see this as the value of the dollar changes through circumstance, making the idea of a dollar a truly figurative thing. When traveling abroad, the value of my savings changed drastically from location to location making the meaning of a dollar unstable. This is not something we think about from day to day as we continue to participate in a system where we seek out money, an unstable representation of power, in order to obtain the things we want and need. Rufo later discusses how credit cards become part of the 4th order of the simulacrum. With credit cards, you are not only using something as unstable as money but you don’t even have to have it in order to spend it.

Later, Rufo expands on Baudrillards orders of the simulacra and I found this to be a particularly difficult concept. He mentions the term simulacrum, meaning a copy without and original, and uses theme parks as an example. When visiting a place like Disney, we see attempted recreations of movie scenes and famous locations but because nothing is exactly the same, the copy is original in its own right. Baudrillard claims that this confuses reality and furthers the simulacrum because our real experience is being shaped by the idea of something else. 

I find Baudrillard both confusing and frustrating. However, I can see that my frustration comes from a need for answers and a need to grasp what is real. Baudrillard wants us to let go of the idea of capturing reality and instead grasp on to the truth of illusion and mystery. We cannot grasp illusion in our society where everything is “realized” and as a student whose main goal is to obtain knowledge, this can be difficult.

Irving's Function

            In Foucault’s article, “What is an Author?” Foucault defines what he sees as a misinterpretation of how the author is meant to function as well as his interpretation of the “author function.”  After dismantling the theory offered in Barthes’ “The Death of the Author,” Foucault disagrees with the idea that the author is completely detached from the work.  He argues that claiming that the author is not the source origin and control in the work automatically accepts the work itself as the new source origin, which is also problematic.  Rather, Foucault explains that the author has in fact not disappeared.  The author is a function of discourse and the presence of the author function gives the work status.  The author is therefore an ideological presence rather than an individual source of knowledge that creates a work.  

            The author is not the function himself; it is his status in literary discourse that creates the author function.  In other words, if an author is famous for a particular text, he is more likely to have status and therefore his other works will carry that status.  As Tim Spurgin declares in his interpretation of Foucault’s text, a novel such as Oliver Twist has its status and standing because of the name Charles Dickens created for himself.  Therefore, the reader must look at the author function and think about how the proper name “Charles Dickens” defines our reading of the novel.  As Foucault states in his article, “The author’s name is not, therefore, just a proper name like the rest,” suggesting that an author’s name signifies not only the person but the works and ideas attributed to that person (381).  The author function complicates the author’s name as it plays a role in the literary discourse, valorizing the work.  It defines what works are given value and meant to be read in the literary world.

            The conversation on the author function leads to the interview with John Irving by Ron Hansen from The Paris Review.  The interview begins by describing an image of Irving, showing that although he is wealthy and famous, he still bring the interviewer into the small, crowded back room.  The interview questions are first directed to ask Irving about his life and how he established his status as well as how he feels about other authors such as Charles Dickens.  In this way, the interviewer asks how Irving views his author function not only in himself but in relation to other authors.  The questions indicate that the author’s influences and gain in status are significant in establishing the author function.  The interview itself automatically assumes Irving’s status as an author and contributes to his author function, as he is valorized as an author and his works are therefore given value.  

For instance, Hansen engages Irving in a conversation regarding his response to criticism on his work.  The discussion relates to the author function in that a review necessarily criticizes the author as well as the work, for it establishes the reputation of the author and therefore his author function.  Hansen asks, “How about the analysts and intellectuals? Have you ever learned anything from reading criticism about your work? Do reviews please or annoy you, or do you pay too little attention to them for that?”  The interviewer in this way is trying to demonstrate how the author functions in relation to other authors.  Irving’s response that “reviews are only important when no one knows who you are” is a perfect example of how the status of the author is vital in the acceptance of a work.  Irving says, “In a perfect world, all writers would be well-enough known to not need reviewers.”  Here, Irving recognizes that there is a need for an author function in order for work to be validated, have status, and be classified.  Foucault describes the significance of the author function when he writes that “The author’s name manifests the appearance of a certain discursive set and indicates the status of this discourse within a society and culture,” suggesting that the name is essential in determining whether a “work” is in fact considered a work (382).  Similarly with Irving, his comment that if all authors were well-known they would not need reviews shows that the status of the author dictates the success of the work.  The author function, therefore, is a presence in the work but not a creative authority over it.

Therefore, the author’s name is not just like any other proper name.  As Foucault says in his writing, “the name seems always to be present,” showing that the author is not simply the writer but plays a role in the text (382).  In this way, Charles Dickens’s name or Irving’s name mean more than your name or my name means because it carries a certain status in the literary world.  Furthermore, the name encompasses all that the author represents.  This status transfers into an author’s literary work and therefore the author’s function in the literary work is his status in literary discourse.  In addition, it is clear that certain works that necessarily need an author and may not have the same credibility had they not been backed by the status of the author function, such as Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist.

       Through Hansen’s questions to Irving, the interview allows a way for Irving to speak about his opinion on the author function.  Hansen challenges Irving to examine his function throughout the literary world.  For example, he asks, “Your literary debts to Charles Dickens, Günter Grass, and Kurt Vonnegut are pretty clear in your work, at least to some readers. How do you see their books contributing to your own?”  His question references other author functions that have influenced literary discourse.  The value placed on their impact rather than how an unknown writer influenced Irving indicates that the author function determines the status of a work and whether it is considered a work at all.  Irving responds in a way that shows his establishment of his status and his acknowledgement of his place in his writing.  

Irving seems to be aware that his author function contributes to the success and fame of his work.  The interviewer as well embraces Irving’s status from the author function, and it is evident that Irving’s author function contributes to the fame of his work.  For example, when Irving mentions a novel that he was in the process of writing at the time (A Prayer for Owen Meany), the interviewer asks him if he would be willing to say more on the new novel.  The interviewer’s interest in the novel, even though it is unfinished, shows that the author function automatically creates interest in his work.  Before Irving has completed a novel, people are interested in knowing what it will be about and therefore are already placing value on it.  Without the author function, this interest in an unfinished work would not occur.

The interview not only implies the author’s status but also authority in a work.  Throughout the interview, Irving insists on his control over his work as a writer, something that Foucault would find problematic on the surface.  Irving says in the interview, “The authority of the storyteller’s voice—of mine, anyway—comes from knowing how it all comes out before you begin.  It’s very plodding work, really,” indicating that he feels he is in control of the work.  However, it becomes evident that his idea of control is that it is important for a writer to tell a story properly and give it justice, for a writer does not create a story but finds it.  Irving says, “A writer is a vehicle.  I feel the story I am writing existed before I existed; I’m just the slob who finds it, and rather clumsily tries to do it, and the characters, justice,” showing that writer is not an inventor but rather shapes the work and is therefore constantly present in the work.  As Foucault writes, “The text always contains a certain number of signs referring to the author,” suggesting that the author’s function is complex, as he is always present and influencing it without direct authority.  Irving finds this ability to shape the work and its status important.  For instance, at one point in the interview Irving is asked to respond to the purpose of writers of screenplays.  Irving’s response includes his statement that in screenwriting, “the writer is not in control of the pace of the story, or of the tone of the narration.”  Therefore, Irving believes that he is in control of his writing and wants to deliver the story in a meaningful way, which does not necessarily mean he believes his in control of how people perceive his writing.  In other words, while he does believe he controls what is said in his works of literature, he is not declaring that he controls what happens once his works are distributed.  Therefore it is a fair assumption that his statement, “The story I’m writing existed before I existed,” is a correct establishment of how he understands his role as an author in crafting the work and recognizes that his author function gives his writing its status.

The interview questions are directed to question Irving’s opinion of his own author function and his relation to other author functions.  Irving seems to follow Foucault’s opinion that his function is only based on the status he gives to his work.  Even though Irving acknowledges the control he has in creating and shaping his work, he also recognizes his silent presence once his work is distributed and that his function at that point is no longer controlling the work but rather valorizing it.

Desire Lies within

Ashley Shelden’s analysis of Lacan’s psychoanalytic theory emphasizes the illusion of identity in the Symbolic.   Lacan, in comparing the structure of the unconscious to language, observes that the unconscious cannot be attained, is unstable, and has no meaning.  The limits of language prevent any entrance into the Real as we constantly try and fail to attain meaning, because meaning is an illusion on the symbolic level.  Lacan’s rejection of Saussure’s signified indicates his poststructuralist tendencies, suggesting that being is not simply lost but never existed.  The connection that Shelden makes between Lacan’s adaptation of Saussure’s work and the psychoanalytic concept of desire aids in the understanding of the unattainable pursuit of meaning, not only in language but also in the mind.  Lacan’s psychoanalytic theory embraces the poststructuralist rejection of meaning in the structure, suggesting that the unstable self of the Symbolic and Imaginary must be deconstructed.

Peter Barry explains Lacan’s rejection of a stable subject.  He writes, “Lacan seeks to alter nothing less than our deepest notions of what we are,” showing that Lacan rejects that being exists in the Symbolic (Barry 108).  Lacan shatters the illusion of identity, suggesting that language constructs the “I” that manifests itself in the Symbolic, and language itself is unstable and without meaning.  Shelden grapples with this instability of the subject in her post when she discusses the linguistic aspects of the unconscious, specifically metonymy.  She describes the “slippage” associated with metonymy, as one signifier leads to another which leads to another.  The search is unending, uncontrollable, and does not lead to any truth or meaning, a clear distinction from Saussure’s idea that the signifier and signified at least have a stable relationship with each other.  Metonymy is therefore a continuous cycle and signifiers are purely relational to each other. The illusion of meaning is produced through metonymy, as signifiers have no true meanings but rather only differ from one another.  We never reach any meaning at all; rather, we reach another signifier that defers meaning endlessly, creating an unstable reality within the Symbolic. .

Shelden’s explanation of language’s role in Lacan emphasizes language’s ability to entrap subjects in the Symbolic.  Shelden writes, “Language makes us who we are, and we are nothing other than signifiers in a metonymic chain, slipping and sliding towards a sense of self.”  In highlighting that we only exist through language, Lacan deconstructs the notion of the self, suggesting that the self, trapped in the illusion of meaning pursues desires indefinitely.  Shelden’s use of the word slippage recognizes the instability in meaning but also suggests an inability to control, as we constantly want to pursue our desires even though they are unattainable and will only lead to new desires.  The search for meaning never ends as long as we exist in the Symbolic.
            Evelyn Schreiber's article, “Memory believes before knowing remembers: the insistence of past and Lacan's unconscious desire in Light in August,” further explains Lacan’s discussion of language and desire through psychoanalytic theory. Schreiber says that “people relate to each other not in their full complexity as living, feeling individuals, but in terms of significations that have come to represent them in their essential absence. Thus, a subject only appears in relationship to the socially constructed symbolic order or cultural symbolic of a particular community.” Her comment suggests individuals are interrelated and connected through language and social relationships.  For example, race is perceived as a social construct which reifies white racial domination. This idea adds to Lacan's discussion of the repetition of signifiers.  The repetition of a social construct functions approach the desire and repeatedly try to fulfill it.  Just as a signifier leads to another signifier infinitely, society perpetuates a system to prevent a lack.  Desire to fill a void can therefore cause the repetition of negative aspects of society.  Shelden’s post deepens this understanding of desire when she describes the inability to reach the objet petit a.  She writes that “The inability to be satisfied by the object of desire maintains the lack in the subject, a void that can never be filled,” showing that the persistence of the void causes a need to fill it, as society continues its behavior in order to repeatedly fill the emptiness. 

Shelden describes desire as central to psychoanalysis, as language instills each subject of the Symbolic with desire.  However, language’s limitations in reaching the object of desire causes a constant need to attempt to fulfill the desire.  Consumerism exemplifies the need to repeatedly try to reach satisfaction.  However, after the individual purchases the latest iPhone or True Religion jeans, a void will remain.  The desire cannot be fulfilled and there will be a constant presence of wanting to replace the object or find satisfaction elsewhere. In turn, the Symbolic unconscious creates a programmed drive that cannot be satisfied because nothing exists that can satisfy the drive of desire.  Individuals are kept within the Symbolic and assume meaning to exist within the Symbolic.

In the Symbolic, individuals cannot freely enter and exit the system because they are born into existence. However, within Symbolic theory the drive cannot be satisfied because no object or concept can satisfy the drive. Hence, Lacan further explains psychoanalytic theory through the mirror stage.  Shelden’s explanation of the mirror stage clarifies the functions of the Symbolic and the Imaginary.    Shelden writes, “The Imaginary can only produce the illusion of stability through the operation of the image,” showing that the Imaginary’s role is to use images, while the Symbolic produces the illusion of stability through language.  Both language and images create the illusion of the subject “I,” yet both also establish lack and anxiety.  The death drive seeks to destroy these desires in the Symbolic in the Imaginary, threatening the illusion of the Symbolic and Imaginary self and pursuing the Real.

Shelden’s post helps to show that Lacan’s theory works to destabilize the sense of self through the death drive.   The death drive forces a neglect of the search for meaning and identity.  Her post is useful in connecting to the idea that, according to Lacan, the unconscious cannot be accessed.  Only with the death drive, through the momentary jouissance of sexual pleasure, can we experience any sense of being in the Real.  Shelden’s emphasis on the contradiction of searching for identity in the Symbolic when it is fundamentally unattainable suggests that existence within a structure does not allow for any stable meaning.  This poststructuralist tendency within psychoanalysis demonstrates the lack of meaning within the unconscious and completely destabilizes a unified self.    

Deconstructing Derrida

The film, Derrida, records Jacques Derrida as he resists the process of creating a documentary and providing truth.  Derrida, in poststructuralism, rejects the notion of a concrete and stable identity; therefore, the search for his true self in the film is unattainable, and moments that seem to get close to answering questions quickly begin to deconstruct.  The filmmakers, well aware of the artificiality that Derrida recognizes, emphasize that they are making a film, frequently showing cameras and footage of Derrida watching the film.  The film demonstrates that, as the narrator explains, “deconstruction is always already at work in the work.”  Attempts to create a coherent documentary continue to fail, an effect which the filmmakers embrace.  The film is continually aware of its structure as a film, and this awareness causes its frequent deconstruction.  The film in itself is exemplifies Derrida’s work, showing that whenever there seems to be an answer, it needs to be questioned, allowing for deconstruction to repeatedly occur.

                Early in the film the documentary shows footage of Derrida discussing biographies.  He explains that traditionally a biography becomes representative of truth, creating a fixed and stable image of a person.  Derrida’s skepticism of the biography indicates the poststructuralist ideas that stable identity and truth do not exist.  In poststructuralism, there is no unified meaning, for meaning is fluid, unstable, and constantly shifting.  Deconstruction destabilizes the fixed image that a biography creates about a person, rejecting the stability.  The film, however, interrupts Derrida’s discussion with footage of Derrida walking along the street.  The narrator narrates aspects of his life that essentially play the role of a biography.  The film, which as a documentary is supposed to tell the story of Derrida’s life and work, knows that it cannot capture the essence of Derrida; according to Derrida’s theories, he has no essence.  Therefore, the film’s choice to insert biographical information about Derrida while he disputes the validity of a biography shows how the film chooses to embrace the presence of deconstruction in the structure.  The film even acknowledges that a biography of a philosopher encompasses the philospher’s work and life, i.e. the system and the subject of the system.  It recognizes that there is a blurred or invisible line between the two, meaning that the relationship between the philosopher and his work is unstable.  Poststructuralism breaks down binaries and finds all meaning to be unstable. 

                Derrida’s recognition of the artificiality of the situation consumes the structure of the work.  Derrida refuses to naturalize what is not natural, as he resists the interview process and constantly draws attention to the cameras and the necessity for him to perform rather than behave naturally.  He even notes that when he normally spends time alone in his home he stays in his robe, but the presence of the camera caused him to alter his behavior.  He says, “I’m not really like this,” to show that it is impossible to capture his essence in a film, or perhaps impossible to define someone’s essence at all without imposing some sort of authority and autobiography in the portrayal.  We see that Derrida himself offers very little stable interpretation, including when he is asked about the beginning of his relationship with his wife.  First, Derrida notes the artificiality of the situation when the camera workers need to pause to fix the lighting, immediately making him more unlikely to feel comfortable in front of the camera.  Not only does he say very little––only facts about how they first met-- he later comments on how important it was that both he and his wife responded that way. He said "I'm not going to tell you everything. I'm just going to tell you superficial things."  Derrida is hesitant to disclose information in front of the camera, arguing that it is difficult for him to tell a story and suggesting that telling in itself is not sufficient.  His comment on narration indicates that narration implies some sort of authority and telling of truth, but the truth is unstable and therefore impossible to tell.  Moreover, throughout the film there are images of Derrida watching footage of footage of footage of this particular scene, further deconstructing the structure of the film and its authority.  We are left uncertain as the film actively deconstructs itself, showing that deconstruction is always present in the structure and constantly destabilizing meaning.

                The film also emphasizes instability during the scene on love.  Derrida brings to question the distinction between the who and the what, meaning the unique singularity of someone versus qualities of someone.  As he discusses the struggle of knowing whether to attribute love to the who or the what, he demonstrates the instability of the binary and that love is actually in the blurred line in between the two.  Derrida hence questions the existence of an absolute essence of someone, suggesting that there is no center and that play is always there from the beginning.  The I, in existing between reality and fiction, indicates the deconstruction of the binaries and the center of the self as the source of knowledge.  Identity is therefore not inherent but created and written. 

                The film’s emphasis on the instability of the center also manifests itself in the discussion of eyes and hands.  Throughout the film, the cameras focus on the image of Derrida’s eyes and hands, with the cameras functioning as the Other that from the outside deconstructs the cogito.  Derrida explains that the eyes and hands are, although integral parts to us, the parts that we see least easily in ourselves.  It is the Other that most easily sees them.  The eyes and the hands, therefore, are the center that exists both at the center of the structure and outside of it.  The center of a person (in this case Derrida) exists outside of him.  Derrida emphasizes this point in “Structure, Sign and Play,” when he says, “The center is at the center of the totality and yet, since the center does not belong to the totality (is not part of the totality), the totality has its center elsewhere,” (Rice and Waugh 196).  The filmmakers take on the center of Derrida as they view his eyes and hands from outside of him, destabilizing his essence while they ironically and somewhat mockingly try to tell his essence. 

                The film embraces poststructuralism as it constantly deconstructs itself throughout the process. Poststructuralism confirms play and asserts that the center never exists because it is always outside of itself.  As Derrida writes in “Stucture, Sign and Play,” “…it was necessary to begin thinking that there was no center, that the center could not be thought in the form a present-being, that the center had no natural site, that it was not a fixed locus but a function, a sort of nonlocus in which an infinite number of sign-substitutions came into play,” (Rice and Waugh 197).  Derrida doesn’t recognize the loss of the center but rather the nonexistence of it.  The film reflects Derrida’s deconstruction of the center and emphasis on instability.

                The song, “Jacques Derrida,” by Scritti Politti, embraces deconstruction with the notion that after reading Derrida’s work, the singer can understand his love for someone by deconstructing the person:

I'm in love with a Jacques Derrida
Read a page and know what I need to
Take apart my baby's heart

I’m in love

The song suggests the notion of repeatedly deconstructing someone, constantly unraveling the unstable meaning in poststructuralism and deconstructing the idea of any unified singularity of someone.  In deconstruction, there is no stability.  Derrida addresses the struggle between the who and the what in understanding love; moreover, the lyric suggests the instability of a person, existing unstably in between the who and the what.  The lyric deconstructs the notion of a center and assumes play.