Writer, Artisan, Narrator

Author(s): Yve-Alain Bois

Source: October, Vol. 26 (Autumn, 1983), pp. 27-33
Published by: The MIT Press
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/778566
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Writer,Artisan, Narrator*

YVE-ALAIN

BOIS

In lookingback I can say this:one day I thoughtofhis workas a tool. I

didn'tonlywantto quote it (forquotationsmay be used to no otherpurpose
or exhilaration),
thanaffection
but to use his textin a sortoftrusteeship,
as a
theoretical
arsenalin thetangleofproblemsI was trying
to solveat thetime;to
findin his writings
theconcepts,thevectors,and gridthatwouldaddressmy
and
make a new startpossible.
specificconcerns,
It was just a fewmonthsafterhis death; enoughtimehad finallypassed
forme to thinkclearlyagain about Roland Barthes,and ofa wholearea ofmy
past thatI would look back on as finished.Thingshad changedlong before
withoutmy realizingit: I stilloftenrecalledhis wordswhileI worked(fragmentsof lectures,signalideas thatstubbornly
lodgedin my head); I would
sometimesimaginehis agreeingor disagreeingwithwhat I was writingas I
wroteit; itwas hisimagethatcame to mindeventhroughthedistanceofmemory:thatextremeconcernfordetailsin an unfocusedbackground.His death
a departurethattookplace gradually,surreptitiously,
ratified
and thatwas in
no way a signofinfidelity.
And it was undoubtedly
thisseparationthatmade
me wantto makeuse ofhimin a waythatbeforewouldhavebeenunthinkable.
in thisrecourseto Roland Barthes,twounexpected
Yet in thisact ofreturning,
discoveriesawaitedme, and theywereheartrending
at first,inasmuchas they
seemedbeyondcomprehension.
Almostimmediately
I realizedthatBarthes'stextwas no boon; thatit
would not serveas a guide to answerspecificquestions(even thoughit often
broacheda topicI wantedto debate,whichisn'tthesame thing).Far fromophis textindolently
eratingas a focusingmechanismor synthesizer,
dispersed
theintertwined
threadsofmythought.It removednoneoftheobstacles,butalto pointout anothertrackin an alreadyoverly
waysansweredwithindirection
articulated
For
the
first
timeitwas nota trustworthy
labyrinth.
ally,butsomething useless and unuseable.

*
This essay was originallypublished as "Ecrivain, artisan, narrateur,"in a special issue, devoted to Roland Barthes, of Critique,no. 425 (August-September 1982), 785-796.

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28

OCTOBER

My second realization was in directresponse to being set in thisfirsttailspin. What I had always loved in Roland Barthes was his verymaternal,wordteachingpresence. I had become so familiarwithhis language duringmy regular attendance in the seminars and lectures that I thoughtof it as a second
mothertongue: The child learns, withoutreflection,to speakas well as understand the language spoken by his mother.Yet even ifsome of the atoms of language had succeeded in passing fromthe speech of the master to that of the
pupil, theywere stillonly idiosyncraticand caricatural. And so to a certainextent I simplyforgotthat language! As if to prove to myselfthe untruthof my
fantasy. Inflectionslost their precision; certain statementsno longer found
theirecho in me. A gentleamnesia had transformedmy reading, and thatlanguage sounded once more harsh to my ears.
I had returnedin a certainway to my firstdiscoveryof Barthes, to my first
astonishmentin reading him; when he was neitherthinker,giverof language,
mother,nor father,still unknown to me, except as a writer.I realize that his
death restoredhim to me in thatform,reinstatedhis text,naked, freeof imperfectionsand of his responsibilitytoward me.

Then what? Had I been his pupil only to findmyselfsuddenlyconfronted

once again with his work as I had ten years earlier? If it isn't his "thought"(its
structure,conclusions, and so forth); if it isn't his "language," what then is
Roland Barthes's bequest?The same that it was to everyone--his text. But to
me? What is thereof his thatwill belong always only to me? What do I owe him
in return?
The answer occurs immediately,and with it, the need to writeit down: I
am indebtedto him forwhat painterscall "studiotechniques."No, not a method,
but a thousand practical formulations,which may eventually become ideas,
but are general enough to address all contexts; forexample: "Always look behind Nature, for History." It could be called a meager inheritance. I would
like, however, to demonstrateits greatness(not so much thatof the actual precepts, as of the practical instructionthat it inadvertentlyimparts). Using this
approach, I am followingwhat was for me Roland Barthes's "first"lesson:
Nothing that seems trivial is meaningless. To begin with, we have to look at
thingsveryclosely,at theendsofournoses,as materiallyas possible, because only
thisslightnearsightednessfreesus at the outsetfromthe mythofdepth. (Questioned about his "workingmethod," Barthes gives the make of his pen, mentioninghis hatred forball-points.)' The real flavoris foundin the grain, on the
surfaceof things.
"An almost obsessive concern with writinginstruments,"from remarks reportedby J.-L.
1.
de Rambures, Le Monde, September 27, 1973.

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Writer,
Artisan,Narrator

29

There were other revelations. Rereading the seminar notes, I found it

hard to believe that I reallyattended the lecturesregularlyforonly threeyears,
followedby a fourthyear of irregularattendance, beforequietlyfreeingmyself
fromthe group (attended
mightgive the impressionof active participation,while
in factI was as circumspectlymum as could be). I was also surprisedto see that
what I am speaking about here- work methods--Barthes had already, and
often,spoken of; he called them workprotocols.Even certain images that occur
to me are to be rediscoveredthere, in these faded notebooks. What are these
two additional lapses of memoryworth? They tell me this: You thoughtyou
had been in thrallto his voice fora longer time than you actually had, because
its resonance is strongerin you than you think.Why is this? Because it wasn't
so much what his voice said that leftits mark, as the way, throngedwith images, that it was said.
In a text Barthes gave "in the seminar"(its title),he set fortha rule of instruction:"Let us write in the present; let us produce a book in view of everyone else and sometimeswith them, as it's being written:Let us show ourselves
"2 This is exactly what I was witness to during my long
in a stateofenunciation.
with
Roland
Barthes; in the many books and articles,and, yes, even this
"stay"
text, "In the Seminar," which was pieced togetherbefore us, and with us, at
many sittings,several years running, before being set down on paper. Like
everyone else I would measure the discrepancybetween the feverish,groping,
self-indulgently
peripateticresearch and the inevitablyanticlimactictext; like
I
else
was
able to appreciate the disproportionbetween the wayward
everyone
work of writingand its discreteprintedform.When I read "In the Seminar" at
the timeof its publication,I rememberedverywell how I had been disappointed
at the appearance of certain textsthat had issued directlyfrommy firstseminar. Whereas then that disappointmenthad served to teach me nothing,now,
suddenlytherewas a rule, an approach: farfromindulgingthe hackneyedidea
(so uncharacteristicof Barthes) that the spoken language is richerthan mute
writing,the differencebetween "In the Seminar" and what I rememberedof the
sessions spent developing it as a texttaught me this: Writinginvolves a great
deal ofwasted effort;you have to let go of everythingand then,bit by bit, allow
only the rightthingsto surface.
In "In the Seminar," Roland Barthes suggeststhreerules ofeducation: the
firststates the general idea that academic knowledge is transmittedthrough
"oral or writtendiscourse, enveloped in a declarative flux." It is the typical
"teachingrelationship":one distillsthe science, the otherdrinksit in. The second is apprenticeship:
the master "worksforhimself
in the apprentice'spresence.
is
. . Competence silentlytransmitted;a performanceis given (that of doing),
in which the apprentice, crossingfromaudience to stage, slowlypresentshimself."The thirdis mothering.
"When a child learns to walk, the motherdoes not
2.

Roland Barthes, "Au seminaire,"L'Arc,special issue in honor of Barthes, no. 56 (1974), 54.

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30

OCTOBER

She doesn'tteachthechildhow to walk; she

speaknordoes she demonstrate.
doesn'trepresentit (she doesn'twalkforthechild).She supports,encourages,
and calls out (drawsback and calls)."3
Here again is an instanceoftheparentaloppositionthatBarthesha'ddiscarded. Not wantingto be thefather(the preceptor,authority),
unable to be
themother,he chosethesecondway,theotherway; and we werehishappyapevenso). He wholamenteda certainartofliving
prentices
(a littlebitmothered
thetargetof
thathas nowdisappeared,he whooftenmadethecultureindustry
his attacks,he belongedto theworldoftheartisan.But an artisanofa strange
ofthemeansof production
sort,one who was unfazedby thetransformation
notknowledge,but knowand theadventofthemachine.He communicated
aboutme,"he said,"isthis,
how: he taughtus hisexperience."What'sdifferent
and nothingelse: I have written."4
Barthesinsistsupon thesilenceofthemasterbeforehis apprentices:"He
doesn'tspeak,or at leasthe doesn'tdelivera lecture;hiswordsare purelydeictic.'Here,' he says,'I do thisto avoid that.'"5One could saythatthereis somethingparadoxicalabout wantingto makehimselfintosucha master:didn'tit
forhis speech?In spiteofhis reserve,whichwas proeverleave us frustrated
secondshis
verbial,wasn'the alwaysgenerous?Of course,but Barthes'ssilence
voice and amountsto thefactthathe nevergave us a setofcommandments.
The recipesI spokeofhad to be decipheredby each ofus, in ourownway,betweenthelinesofhisdiscourse.Because he didn'tshowus howto writereally,
but how to put ourselvesin a situationto write.His methodwas onlypartly
he gaveus advice.WalterBenjamin
didn'tsupplyexplanations;
deictic:Barthe's
much
advice
isn't
so
that
writes "giving
answering
questionsas itis makingsuga
as
it's
of
outcome
the
takingplace."6The suggestions
story,
gestionsabout
sincetheyso oftenlackeda preciseformuthatBarthesmade werenonviolent,
lation,but therewas alwaysa moralto whathe said, an intimatedmorality.
hisexperience,whodoes notprovideexplanaThe artisanwhotransmits
themoralofthestory
tionsbut allowshis audienceto elaborateforthemselves
- he is theone whoknowshowto tella story;he is thenarratorwhoseportrait
Benjamindrewwithsuchskill.It seemsthattherehas been verylittlethought
of
giventohowmuchBarthesborrowedfromand broughttothegreattradition
oral narrative(not onlyin his teaching,but in theverytextureof his critical
writing);yeteveryonewhoheardhimrecognizedand spokeofhowextremely
musicalhis voicewas. There is clearevidenceofit onlyin his laterwork(disbut
withoutbooks,"and so forth),
themeof"writers
coveryofthebiographeme,
3.
Ibid.,p. 52.
4.
Ibid.
5.
Ibid.,p. 54.
trans. Harry Zohn, New York,
in Illuminations,
Walter Benjamin,"The Storyteller,"
6.
Schocken,1969, p. 86.

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Artisan,Narrator
Writer,

31

all his metaphoricalverve, all the pleasure of incongruous lists, the contradictoryexample (the best, in his opinion),7 his great love of the concrete, all this
forme is a sign of how much a storytellerBartheswas. It also explains his preference forsmall, classroom-size spaces, and his discomfortat having to speak
before large gatherings. A story cannot be told anonymously; firsta group
mustbe identified.Barthesliked the seminarbecause he could sense our listening to him, and rediscoverit, even as it changed, week afterweek.8
The art of the narrator,linked to the repetitive,endless cycle of the craftsman, began to crumble,accordingto Benjamin, withthe inventionof the novel,
forthe novel takes on meaning only withthe appearance ofthe words"theend."
Certainlynarrationreceiveditsdeath blow fromthe rise of thatmoderndemon,
and blind to the past, an assertionlessassertion,the daily
the news- indifferent
fatuityon which the world gorges itself:mass media. Barthes set the novelistic
in oppositionto the novel; and to the vast indifference
ofthe news, the "blade of
value." If he resistedthe novel so stubbornly,it wasn't only because he knew it
couldn'tbe writtenanymore,but also because a much earlierpast existedwithin
him that rebelled against the entire teleological structureof the novel, against
what makes this art a storyof the fall.9And ifhe devoted an entirebook to the
way the novel is written,it is undoubtedly because it is the purest form,the
emptiestform,of the news; as if the only possible response to this second, definitiveoffensiveagainst the art of storytellingwas forhim to analyze its structure in its most innocuous form.

"Narration is, as it were, an artisanal formof communication,"according

to Benjamin. "It doesn't attemptto transmitthe pure 'in itself'of something,as
does a news storyor a report; it locates somethingwithinthe very life of the
7.
Roland Barthespar Roland Barthes,Editions du Seuil, 1975, p. 84; English translation by
Richard Howard, Roland BarthesbyRoland Barthes,New York, Hill and Wang, 1977.
8.
Was he happy at the Collige de France? I don't thinkso. The seminar, as I had the good
- seated around a table), was
fortuneto know it (a small group of people - approximately fifteen
Barthes's response to a growing problem which finally,reached crisis proportions.,In the fall of
1971, attendance had increased to the point that the Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes had to
rent a large hall located near the Champs de Mars. It was actually a theater, with footlights,
wings, a backstage, etc. The funnythingabout it was that it belonged to the French Theosophical
Society. But Barthes's agony can well be imagined, alone there on the stage, in the spotlight,
forced to preside ex cathedrabefore those hundreds of shadowy faces. The inevitable happened.
Using some pretext,one of those in the overcrowded hall- undoubtedly expressing the frustration of everyonethere- suddenly lashed out at the speaker. Afterthat anonymous attack, Barthes
closed the session to all but officiallyenrolled studentsand institutedthe actual seminar in a more
suitable place. To facilitatea closer rapport, he divided the group into threesubgroups, devoting
to each an entire afternoon,two hours a week.
9.
See PritexteRoland Barthes,actes du colloque de Cerisy, UGE, 1978, pp. 251-252; and
"Reponses," Tel Quel, no. 47 (Autumn 1971), 102: "The novel formappeals to me, but I know
that the novel is dead: that, I believe, is what I am really saying."

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OCTOBER

32

thenarrator's
and fromthatlifelaterborrowsitback. It imprints
narrator,
sign
on thestory,as thepotterleavesthetraceofhishandson theclay."Beginning
ofsemiology,
a subwiththefirstseminar,Barthesstartedto relatethehistory
an
was
which
his
audience
with
already
theoretically
apparacquainted,
ject
entlyneutralchoice,and too mucha currentissue to hold any dark secrets.
to a veryspecificacFromthebeginningitappearedthatwe wouldbe listening
count: Roland Barthes'sown "initiation"into semiologicalstudies(Brecht
ratherthanSaussurewas the firstwriterto be considered).The storyof that
and we werebeingtolda story
longpassagewas a delight:We wereapprentices
ofapprenticeship!
(somewhata specialcase, however,sincethepupilhad been
and as he was himselfinformed
almostentirelyself-taught,
by semiology,he
about the
to itstheoretical
contributed
foundation).But whatwas interesting
we were
seminarwas thatas Barthesreeledoffa criticalsurveyofeverything
fromsemiology.The narrareadingat thetime,he himselfwas withdrawing
and thedesireto pass on to otherthingswereperfectly
tion(transmission)
synwithone ofthegreat
chronized.So it was thatveryearlyon I was confronted
thepreceptwritpracticalprinciplesofRoland Barthes,whichis undoubtedly
of
I
the
Unbelief.
will
call
tenwitha capitalP, and which
Principle
ofscience,Koyresaid
Explainingthepointofviewadoptedforthehistory
an enorif
even
it
is
at
a
theoretical
that"arriving
false,represents
formulation,
would
Barthes
state."10
the
over
mous advance
certainlyhave
pretheoretical
of
"Even
the
science
forever:
true
remains
no
that
added
desire,psychotheory
analysis,willsomeday pass away,"he wrote,"eventhoughwe are greatlyinHis slight
thanitsinterpretation."11
debtedto it.. . , becausedesireis stronger
maa
tactical
but
not
a
of
is
of
extremism
absence
his
sign defeat,
scepticism,
and endlesslyimprovesthe conditionof the critic's
neuverthat refurbishes
toreweapons.Two corollariesfollowfromthePrincipleof Unbelief:theright
to
the
its
but
is
often
which
asserted,
especially contrapositive, right safecant,
he oftentoldus; it's
Criticalideas shouldnotbe let go ofprematurely,
guard.12
betterto takeit easy thanto takeone's distance."Ease, theorderofdesire,is
moresubversivethandistance,theorderofcensure."13
"I don'tthinkhe believedin thatoppositionor in manyothers,"Derrida
14and
thenature/history
observedconcerning
oppositionin Barthes'swritings;
to otherdualities(forexample,towhat
extendsthisobservation
Derridarightly
Bartheshad to say aboutconnotation):"An idea thathas alwaysgreatlyinter10.

de la pensdescientifique,
A. Koyre, Etudes d'histoire
Paris, Gallimard, 1973, p. 117.

12.

Barthes, Lefon,p. 31; Roland Barthespar Roland Barthes,pp. 75, 106.

11. Roland Barthes,Lefon,Editionsdu Seuil, 1978, p. 29; Englishtranslationby Richard

Howard,"Lecturein InaugurationoftheChairofLiterarySemiology,Collige de France,"October,no. 8 (Spring1979).
no. 29 (Spring1971), 18.
13. Roland Barthes,"Digressions,"
Promesse,
14. Jacques Derrida, "Les mortsde Roland Barthes,"Poitique,special issue in honor of
Barthes,no 47 (September1981), 271.

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Artisan,Narrator
Writer,

33

ested me, and that I cannot dispense with, even though there is a certain risk
involved in presentingdenotation as a natural state, and connotationas a cultural state of language."'5 But what the effortto shore up crumblingoppositionsteaches us, above all, is the necessityof those oppositions; we must"set up
a paradigm to produce a meaning and then be able to derive some use from
it."16 This, as Barthes oftenshowed us, is the way to begin.
Many more of Barthes's ideas remain alive for me- an endless resource
which I gradually become conscious of during the course of my work. A substantialnumber of these preceptsare simplythe moral of the storieshe told us;
thereare othersthat reflectthe wordless influencehe had over me, whateverit
is that constituteshis entirecraft.One of these indelible marks is what I shall
call the click. Rereading the notebooks that I've kept from those apprentice
years, I agree with his descriptionof the notes taken in the seminar: harumscarum,17equivalent transcriptions,perhaps, of the kind oflisteningpsychoanalyststerm"floating."Barthes applied this floatingquality to the entiresphere
oflanguage, to reading,to everyutterance,to all conversation.I was astounded,
like everyoneelse, when I saw him take out a notebook fromhis pocketone day
while I was speaking to him, and write down several lines before answering.
Again a littlelater I observed the same action, but thenrealizing my mistakeas
I watched his scribblinghand, I knew that there was no apparent connection
between the fragmentsof language thatwere circulatingin the air and what he
was consigningto his notebook: that was the click, that turningof the key that
released the association of ideas.
"It's when you liftyour head that you're really reading," Roland Barthes
oftensaid. That is what I had thoughtI would be able to forget,when I thought
of his text as a tool. To my embarrassment,I realized I could not escape that
click,even ifI would ever want to. If Barthes'stextdidn'tanswer my questions,
it was because I had been too clearly on his side, withoutfeelingany compulsion fromthat sudden, insouciant turningof the key. It's not only the many
flashes of insightthat I remember fromthe seminar, but the way they were
meant to be heard, at least that is my hope: unleash thoughtagainst something
solid; let the signs deflectover and around an opposition, an analogy, before
puttingthem in order.

15.

16.
17.

Barthes, "Reponses," p. 98.

RolandBarthes
parRolandBarthes,
p. 96.
Barthes, "Au seminaire," p. 51.

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