Documenti di Didattica
Documenti di Professioni
Documenti di Cultura
the Human
SERIES EDITORS
Kate Jenckes
Published by State University of New York Press, Albany
Contents
Chapter 1 1
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism:
Apostrophe and Survival in Juan Gelman’s Poetry
Chapter 2 37
Myopic Witnessing and the Intermittent Possibilities of
Community in Sergio Chejfec’s Los planetas and Boca de lobo
Chapter 3 63
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity:
Roberto Bolaño and the Alter-immunological
Potential of Literature
Chapter 4 105
Image and Alterity Beyond the Sepulture of the Human:
Eugenio Dittborn’s Photocollages
Conclusion 157
Notes 161
Works Cited & Bibliography 201
Index 217
v
List of Illustrations
vii
Acknowledgments
I began writing this book in the short interval between the death
of my brother and the birth of my children. My fascination with
the nature of survival, a sense of life that exceeds the distinction
EHWZHHQOLIHDQGGHDWKLQWHQVLˋHGGXULQJWKLVSHULRGDQGHQDEOHG
me to write this version of the project.
The book was conceived much earlier, while I lived in Chile and
traveled regularly to Argentina, and was impelled to consider the nature
of survival in relation to the ongoing effects of the various golpes
associated with the dictatorships. It was shaped by the exhilarating
intellectual environment I was exposed to while in Chile, and which
I have followed to the best of my ability through readings and an
occasional exchange.
I am deeply grateful to all those who inspired and supported the
project and my intellectual development more generally, including
friends, colleagues, and students from all of my numerous homes
over the past several decades, including my current department at
the University of Michigan, which is one of the most intelligent and
VXSSRUWLYHGHSDUWPHQWVLQP\ˋHOG,ZRXOGOLNHWRDFNQRZOHGJHWKH
following individuals in particular, although there are countless others
who contributed in their own ways. From Chile: Willy Thayer, Pablo
2\DU]¼Q1HOO\5LFKDUG)HGHULFR*DOHQGH(OL]DEHWK&ROOLQJZRRG6HOE\
Oscar Cabezas, Sergio Villalobos-Ruminott, and special appreciation
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Williams, Cristina Moreiras-Menor, Jaime Rodríguez-Matos, Irving
Leon, Ross Chambers, and—why not?—Sergio again, since I am so
happy he has joined our department. From various other places: Alberto
0RUHLUDV%UHWW/HYLQVRQ3DWULFN'RYHDQG(ULQ*UDII=LYLQVSHFLDO
ix
x Acknowledgments
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and encouragement have played no small part in the completion of this
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editors at SUNY press, including David Johnson and Scott Michaelson,
Beth Bouloukos, Jenn Bennett, Fran Keneston, and all the others, whose
names I don’t know, who helped turn my words and ideas into a book.
My mom provided invaluable assistance at the very end. Finally, my
greatest gratitude goes to Thom, Claire, and Peter, for providing my life
with sparkle, warmth, and—crucial for the writing of this book—basic,
patient support.
Portions of Chapters 1 and 2 appeared in The New Centennial Review
and the Revista de estudios hispánicos. It is with their permission that
they are reprinted here.
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P\VDEEDWLFDOJDYHPHDSUHFLRXV\HDULQZKLFKWRˋQLVKWKHˋUVWGUDIW
of this book.
Introduction
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image of a black boxer knocked against the ropes and a man in white
leaning over him in a gesture of concern.1 Behind the boxer appear
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framed by the unmistakable curvature of an early television screen,
suggesting innumerable others. The piece is pointedly titled Pietá,
which refers to the iconic scene of Mary bent in grief over Jesus’s
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inscription written beneath the image reads, “Humanidad: del latín
humandoVHSXOWDUȥ,QWHQVLRQZLWKWKH%LEOLFDOVFHQHRIODPHQWDWLRQ
the image of the prostrate boxer seems to pose the question of how
the notion of humanity both resembles and differs from the Christian
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and spectators seek to bury the fallen boxer, containing and covering
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link between humus HDUWK DQG humanus? Or do they constitute a
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the Biblical moment of divine ascension? Or perhaps these are two
versions of the same thing, human suffering serving as the ground
from which redemption—whether Judeo-Christian, secular humanist,
or as part of the culture of sport—springs. The piece can be seen as
posing the question of what it might mean to respond to the suffering
of another in the absence of a redemptive, prosopopoeic structure. In
other words, it can be considered to address the question of testimony
beyond the salvation or sepulture of the human.
xi
xii Introduction
self, both individual and collective, the nature of relation, including the
work of mourning and witnessing, and the nature of history, including a
relation to the past as well as to the radically historical nature of present
life, which is inevitably exposed to that which comes and is always
coming, from both past and future. In different but complementary
ways, Gelman, Chejfec, Bolaño, and Dittborn radicalize the relation
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rethinking the structures of self, other, humanity, community, and
history, and opening them to an otherness that exceeds certainty
and representation. Although their texts are not generally considered
testimonial in any conventional sense, I propose that they correspond to
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a radical alterity—in the sense both of uncertain address and tentative
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knowledge and familiarity, including, most broadly, a sense that the
other is like me, human.
Q Q Q
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significantly different things at different times, and to different
thinkers. Dittborn’s neologistic humando or humanar seems to indicate
a general sense of humanizing that is presumed by all three terms,
a sense of the human as ground for understanding ourselves and
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RIWKHKXPDQLVWOHJDF\E\(XURSHDQWKLQNHUVVXFKDV0LFKHO)RXFDXOW
and Jacques Derrida, among others, an awareness made explicit in
the philosophical writings of Dittborn’s compatriot and contem-
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and ’70s. ,QDQHVVD\IURPWZR\HDUVDIWHU'LWWERUQȢVPietá
0DUFKDQWGHˋQHVKXPDQLVPDVDVWUXFWXUHRIWKRXJKWWKDW seeks to
provide a name, frame, meaning, place, and teleology for historical
existence, which adds up to the sense that humans are in control
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tension between two elements of the legacy of humanism: namely,
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and the process of critique are incompatible with the anthropological
universalisms of humanism, which formalized the concept of man as
xiv Introduction
Q Q Q
Increasingly toward the end of his career Derrida described the relation
to the other in terms of two primary models of thinking about life, which
LQFOXGHVEXWLVQRWOLPLWHGWRWKHˋJXUHRIWKHKXPDQ10 On one extreme
is what he calls the immunological, which is structured defensively,
protecting itself against foreign antigens or anything perceived as
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xvi Introduction
external and internal elements such as other beings, time, death, the
unconscious, or our own animality. He describes how the biological
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that is fundamentally concerned with salvation and preservation—a
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relation: on the one hand, a bond or re-ligio, which Derrida associates
with the structure of immunity, implying at once an economic sense of
protection from debt to others and a biological protection from disease.
Such a relation of the same to itself pervades both religious and secular
contexts, and, indeed, the secular construct of humanism may serve as
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denominator of the immunological: the human understood as anthropo-
theological, redeemed by virtue of a relationship and resemblance to
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a symbolic practice of dominating threats to immunological safety,
generally performed through acts of ingestion or internalization,
including forms of representation that bring their objects into the
economy of the same.11
On the other extreme is what Derrida describes as “the incalculability
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SUHVHQWWRLWVRXWVLGHWKHRSHQLQJWRH[WHULRULW\LQJHQHUDOȥRogues
He describes this sense of incalculable exteriority that is also interior
through what he names autoimmunity, which is basically another term
for différance, installed at the heart of the biological metaphor. For
this reason I propose to call it alter-immunity, to stress the sense of
differential excess that exceeds and disturbs the immunological, a
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&DOFXODWLRQRIWKH6XEMHFWȥȤ)DLWKȥ12 It corresponds to another
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carries life beyond present life or its actual being-there, its empirical or
ontological actuality: not toward death but toward a living-on [sur-vie],
namely, a trace of which life and death would themselves be but traces and
Introduction xvii
LQFOXGHVȤRWKHURWKHUVȥWKHVWURSKLFHOHPHQWRIDSRVWURSKHDOZD\V
WXUQLQJȤIURPRQHWRZDUGWKHRWKHUDZD\IURPRQHWRZDUGRWKHUVȥ
DQGXOWLPDWHO\WRZDUGWKHZRUOGȤ3RHWLFVȥ Such testifying
is conditioned by what Derrida calls faith, as opposed to knowledge,
naming an openness to something that cannot be internalized by
subjective experience or anthropo-theological ideality—including, for
LQVWDQFH*RGȤ3RHWLFVȥIIȤ)DLWKȥȟ7KHZLWQHVVFDQQRWEH
sure of the other’s existence, although she or he feels compelled to
address it, and to convey the fact of this address to others, responding
to a faith that there is another, even though it cannot be confirmed
in any full sense, since the other maintains an ineradicable alterity to
any attempt to articulate it. One aspect of this alterity is finitude, the
fact that the other, like the self, is vulnerable to death and forgetting,
and in this sense witnessing is virtually synonymous with mourning,
which also acknowledges the fact that life is never immune from death
and the traces of an ongoing sur-vie that exceeds the distinctions
between life and death. The testimony itself is not an intact vehicle
of communication, but is inf licted by the same uncertainty and
vulnerability that informs the testimonial relation. It is marked by an
internal limit to what can be said, a radical and inexhaustible secret,
what Maurice Blanchot describes as a “word still to be spoken beyond
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folds and hiatuses, and gestures beyond them to the “differently finite
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poem-testimony as a wound that is also a mouth, “whose lips will
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Derrida’s description of witnessing bears a strong similarity to other
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work The Differend: Phrases in Dispute and Giorgio Agamben’s Remnants
of Auschwitz: The Witness and the Archive. In The Differend, which
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presents a notion of witnessing that comes quite close to Derrida’s.
'HSDUWLQJIURPWKHTXHVWLRQRI+RORFDXVWGHQLHUVZKRDIˋ[HGWRWKHLU
own version of events, lack faith in witnesses, Lyotard turns to consider
a basic distinction between what he calls a genre, a discursive structure
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xx Introduction
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ZKLFKKHFDOOVWKHȤGLIIHUHQGȥ
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experience or absence. 2QWKHFRQWUDU\KHDIˋUPVWKDWWHVWLPRQ\
is a site in which such impossibility is delivered, impossibility
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immanent force, simultaneously in and beyond language. In this
metaphysical resolution, both referential language and its lacunae
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as the reference to the Gospel of John suggests: witnessing is named
as a form of bearing a heliocentric truth, like the divine Word and the
Johnian gospel. Referential language and its poetic silences constitute
the remnants of life and death, the human and inhuman, the sayable
and the unsayable, as synechdocally experienced in Auschwitz, and
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as the “act of an auctor, as the difference and completion of an
impossibility and possibility of speaking of the inhuman and the
KXPDQȥ Remnants $JDPEHQ FRQFOXGHV KLV ERRN ZLWK VXFK
fragments, supplementing or supplanting his critical analysis with
the greater authority of remnants of testimony from concentration
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DQGWKHȤVDYHGȥLQ3ULPR/HYLȢVSDUODQFHWKDWSXUSRUWHGO\ȤVSHDNȥ
the possibility and impossibility of saying. He calls such testimonial
remnants messianic: “not what redeems time in the direction of the
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judgment, in favor of what he calls in State of Exception a messianic
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The differences between Agamben’s metaphysical interpretation of
testimony and Derrida’s should be quite evident. As opposed to revelation
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simultaneously marking and redeeming the inhuman effects of the
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testimony to be the inherently uncertain address of another that is
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Introduction xxiii
act that allows the incalculability of the other and the unconditionality
of justice to unsettle the calculations of judgment, representation, and
law.27
Although not in explicit relation to the nature of testimony, Alberto
Moreiras has articulated similar ideas regarding the limitations of
humanist subjectivism for a thinking of politics. Rejecting the tendency
to associate politics with subjectivity, he writes, “subjectivism in politics
is always based on exclusion, it is always particularist, even when
the subject is assumed to be a communitarian subject, and also when
WKHVXEMHFWDVVXPHVLWVHOIDVDUHSUHVHQWDWLYHRIWKHXQLYHUVDOȥLínea
de sombra: El no sujeto de lo político /LNH'HUULGD0RUHLUDVFDOOV
WKHH[FOXVLRQWKDWXQGHUOLHVWKHˋJXUHRIWKHVXEMHFWVDFULˋFLDODQG
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he understands as “the deconstruction of the ethical instance by the
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Rather than relying on a subjectivist ground, infrapolitics responds to
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permeates and exceeds agency, discernability, activity and passivity, and
persists as an inhuman remainder of both particularist and universalist
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same time that it interrogates some of the principal categories on which
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not politically active, at least not in the same way as Gelman, but he
participated in intellectual and cultural movements loosely associated
with the political opposition under the Pinochet regime, which informed
his questioning of the epistemological complexities underlying both
political and aesthetic action, and the traditional Left as well as the
Right. He continued to explore such complexities long after the dispersal
of critical and cultural movements and the return of democracy in
Chile. Chejfec and Bolaño belong to a subsequent generation, and their
work reflects their respective experiences of distance vis-à-vis the
dictatorships, as well as an awareness of how the structure of political
RSSRVLWLRQWKDWGHˋQHGWKDWHUDGLVVROYHGLQWRDKD]LHUDQGLQVRPH
ways more insidious, state. Whereas the work of Gelman and Dittborn,
each in its own way, uses aesthetic form to interrogate the grounds of
the traditional Left, resisting any straightforward sense of political
commitment, Chejfec and Bolaño not only deepen their suspicions of
such commitment, but come to ask whether there is not a prevailing
complicity between culture, politics, and barbarism, while paradoxically
feeling compelled to respond to such a complicity through literature.
Although such generational and political considerations inform my
discussion of their work, they do not determine its structure, which
attends to different modes of anti-humanist attestation, characterized
by an alter-immunological sense of life, address, and histor y in
Gelman, a myopic form of witnessing in Chejfec, a tension between the
immunological and the alter-immunological in Bolaño, and a disruption
of humanist sepulture in Dittborn.
0\ˋUVWFKDSWHUZDVLQVSLUHGIURPDORQJVWDQGLQJLQWHUHVWLQWKHZD\V
Gelman’s poetry appears—and is often understood—to diverge from his
participation in revolutionary politics, his subsequent civic activism,
and his journalistic career. This tension was exacerbated in the past
decade when Oscar del Barco, a philosopher and former fellow member
of the armed revolutionary group Montoneros, publicly renounced his
RZQSDUWLFLSDWLRQLQWKHFRQˌLFWVRIWKHVDQGVLQJOHGRXW*HOPDQ
DVDKLJKSURˋOHSXEOLFˋJXUHZKRVKRXOGGRWKHVDPHUDWKHUWKDQDV
he saw it, seeking redemption through poetry and civic activism. Del
Barco’s public renunciation set off a wave of recriminations concerning
the so-called turn from revolutionary militancy to an ethical concern for
Introduction xxvii
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or fully self-present, and thereby impervious to change. Although
acknowledging such saturation as a real danger, especially in structures
VXFKDVPHPRU\ERWKSXEOLFDQGSULYDWHDQGVRFLDORUJDQL]DWLRQWKH
novels demonstrate how life is inevitably characterized by a kind of
intermittence that disrupts any sense of self-presence, and constitutes
the condition of possibility of alter-immunological relationality,
and, ultimately, social change. This intermittence is described as a
WHPSRUDOVSDWLDO HIIHFW WKDW H[FHHGV DQG LQWHUQDOO\ GLVUXSWV DQ\
sense of subjective autonomy. It affects everyone and everything,
but is particularly powerful in cases of disappearance, including the
disappearances and other forms of absence related to the Dirty War,
and the related disappearance or non-appearance of labor power, and
therefore social relations in general, in consumer-driven late capitalism.
Los planetas focuses on the former kind of disappearance, Boca de lobo
RQWKHVHFRQGDQGERWKSHUIRUPDP\RSLFIRUPRIZLWQHVVLQJRIWKH
effects of intermittence on personal and social relations, memory and
representation, and literature itself.
My chapter on Bolaño departs from the question of whether his
fictions present a dystopian view of millennial modernity, or whether
they indicate possibilities, however tenuous, for disruption and
change. Critics have pointed to his depictions of writers and artists
as either aimless and self-indulgent, or complicit with authoritarian
regimes, to support the idea that he had a fairly hopeless view on the
possibilities of literature and art. The epigraph of his final novel,
2666, seems to support this reading: “An oasis of horror in a desert of
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with the poet contemplating his own mortality. In his discussion
RIWKLVSRHPLQDQHVVD\WLWOHGȤ/LWHUDWXUH6LFNQHVV 6LFNQHVVȥ
Bolaño describes this epic structure of modernity as a kind of zombie-
like monotony, punctuated by states of exception that function as
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of the structure of immunity and what he calls “indemnificatory or
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there is an assertion of an ideal identity that implies an interiorization
Introduction xxix
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apparent contamination of the self, is destroyed in the name of self-
restoration. However, Bolaño also indicates a third alternative, which
corresponds to what I am calling the alter-immunological, in which
the self is intrinsically exposed to an inappropriable alterity, including
WKH DE\VV RI LWV RZQ PRUWDOLW\ Ȥ/LWHUDWXUH 6LFNQHVV 6LFNQHVVȥ
Through readings of a selection of his fictions, culminating with
2666, I consider how his work testifies to the violence of modernity’s
immunological appropriations and exclusions and to the possibilities
of alter-immunological disruption.
,QP\ˋQDOFKDSWHU,UHWXUQWRFRQVLGHU'LWWERUQȢVSKRWRFROODJHVDVD
mode of witnessing beyond the sepulture of the human—or, as Derrida
says of photography, a mode that “bears witness by interrogating us:
:KDWLVDQDFWRIZLWQHVVLQJ"ȥTWGLQ5LFKWHUȤ%HWZHHQ7UDQVODWLRQ
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considering the question of photography’s indexical nature, a recurrent
topic of debate in photographic theory and of particular interest
regarding the aesthetic use of photography in Chilean art to address
the effects of political disappearance. I relate this to the extended debate
among Nelly Richard, Pablo Oyarzún, and Willy Thayer concerning
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artistic production during the Chilean dictatorship, including Dittborn’s
work. I then turn to Dittborn’s photocollages, which are primarily
FRQVWUXFWHGRXWRIIRXQGSRUWUDLWVRIȤWKHKXPDQIDFHȥIURPGLIIHUHQW
time periods, as implied by the title of his lengthy series from the
VHistoria del rostro humano. Since he established himself as an
artist in the early years of the dictatorship, his use of found images
has frequently been read as a subversive way of indicating censored
acts of violence, including political disappearance and extrajudicial
assassination. However, his work consistently challenges the ideal of
representation as a making visible of what cannot be seen, partly due
to the fact that, as Thayer observes, in an era in which news constitutes
a consumable good, and in which historical representation is used to
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of his Pietá, much of Dittborn’s work consists of exploring the ways in
which representation constitutes a kind of humanist sepulture. From
xxx Introduction
his early work during the dictatorship to his later Pinturas Aeropostales,
he dismantles figures of the human that correspond to anthropo-
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other possibilities of relation and world.
As Derrida says of photography, the works of Gelman, Chejfec,
Bolaño, and Dittborn can be seen as bearing witness by interrogating
the categories through which we tend to understand ourselves and
others. They testify to the limits of the immunological structure of the
human, and to what exceeds and disrupts it, what Derrida describes as
an alterity that must remain “nonreappropriable, nonsubjectivable, and
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a period when the nature of the human was hotly contested, as the raw
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DVDFRQGLWLRQRISRVVLELOLW\IRUWKLQNLQJSROLWLFVGLIIHUHQWO\Rogues
Q 1 Q
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism
Apostrophe and Survival in Juan Gelman’s Poetry
1
2 Witnessing beyond the Human
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the group and in the interviews with Roberto Mero collected in the
YROXPHContraderrota: Montoneros y la revolución perdida, Gelman
indicates some of the key elements for such a rethinking. In these
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WKDQPDWHULDOLVWDQG0HVVLDQLF+HGHVFULEHVKRZWKHRUJDQL]DWLRQ
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populist base, including differences of perspective and the uncertainties
of popular struggle, in favor of a vertical-militaristic and ultimately
elitist structure. This top-down approach culminated when the group
ZHQWFODQGHVWLQHLQHIIHFWLYHO\UHQRXQFLQJWKHSRWHQWLDORISRSXODU
organization in favor of militaristic command, and leaving its populist
supporters vulnerable to the death squads in what amounted to “political
VXLFLGHȥ Contraderrota 6XFK SROLWLFDO VXLFLGH ZDV UHSHDWHG
internally in the organization with the controversial distribution of
cyanide pills and the order to take them following capture, to avoid the
danger of breaking under torture.
Gelman interprets this relation to suicide as part of a theological
dimension of the Montonero philosophy, which he and Mero specify as
associated with the Thomistic tradition in Christianity. Gelman explains
that Thomas of Aquinas distinguished the Old and New Testaments as
SHUWDLQLQJWRWKHȤUHLJQRIQDWXUHȥDQGWKHȤUHLJQRIVSLULWȥUHVSHFWLYHO\
He then extends this distinction to the nature of human life, considering
that the physical body corresponds to that which is obsolete and can
be superseded, and the human spirit to what will be redeemed. Mero
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LQIRUPHGWKHȤP\VWLFLVPȥRIPXFKUHYROXWLRQDU\WKRXJKWLQFOXGLQJWKDW
of the Montoneros, which perhaps more than any other organization
believed in the spirit of revolution, and its redemptive resolution at
WKHVDFULˋFLDOH[SHQVHRILWVPDWHULDOEHDUHUV*HOPDQGHFULHVKRZWKH
Montonero leadership sought to instill not only a Thomistic promise
of the endurance of spirit over matter, but also one based on a notion
RIȤLQGLYLGXDOVDOYDWLRQȥDOEHLWLQWKHQDPHRIFROOHFWLYHFKDQJH+H
gives the example of a military leader saying such things as, “If you
die it doesn’t matter, because tomorrow, when we achieve victory,
WKHUHZLOOEHDVFKRROQDPHGDIWHU\RXȥContraderrota*HOPDQ
contrasts this ideal of individual martyrdom with the objective of
collective action, as well as other ways of relating to life, including
alternate mystical approaches that do not appeal to a sense of spiritual
4 Witnessing beyond the Human
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SK\VLFDOȟ
In keeping with his critique of the immunological and teleological
tenets of Montonero ideology, Gelman’s poetry insists on the alter-
immunological vulnerability and interrelatedness of life, death, self,
RWKHUDQGSDVWSUHVHQWDQGIXWXUH+LVDSSURDFKWRWKHVHˋJXUHVLV
FOHDUO\LQˌXHQFHGE\WKHJHQHUDOL]HGH[SHULHQFHRIORVVDIWHUWKHFRXS
GȢHWDWLQZKLFKLQFOXGHGWKHORVVRIFRXQWU\GXHERWKWRWKH
repression and restructuring of Argentina, and his own experience of
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UHVLGHQFHLQ$UJHQWLQDWKHSURMHFWRIUHYROXWLRQDQGWKHGLVDSSHDUDQFH
and death of his son, pregnant daughter-in-law, and numerous friends
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(XURSHGXULQJWKLVWLPHKHZURWHDJUHDWGHDORISRHWU\PXFKRIZKLFK
UHˌHFWVWKHH[SHULHQFHRIPRXUQLQJDWWLPHVPRUHH[SOLFLWO\WKDQRWKHUV
Critics have tended to view these poems as forms of elegiac lamentation,
a kind of poetic burial of what cannot strictly be buried. At a different
extreme, Ben Bollig, building on del Barco’s critique, suggests that they
provide a melancholic means of keeping the past alive, resisting the
passage of time and the need for historical re-evaluation.
Nevertheless Gelman’s poetry articulates a considerably different
approach to the experience of loss:
corresponds to life, our own life as humans, but also life—or survival,
what he later terms másvida—as something that exceeds and disrupts
any sense whereby human life is understood to be fully present to
LWVHOI,WWKHUHIRUHȤGHKXPDQL]HVȥXVRUVKRZVRXUKXPDQLW\LQWKH
process of being undone, confronted by limits that are nevertheless
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Derrida considers the relation between the human fig ure or
anthropomorphism and death in his discussion of mourning in Memoires
for Paul de Man, where he suggests that mourning is a fundamental
element of life that concerns not only our memories of the dead, but
also our relationships with the living, who, like us, are fundamentally
PRUWDOȤ0QHPRV\QHȥȟ+HGHVFULEHVWZRGLIIHUHQWWHQGHQFLHVRI
mourning, one of which could be called prosopopoeic, coming from de
0DQȢVFRQVLGHUDWLRQRISURVRSRSRHLDDVDPDVWHUˋJXUHXVHGWRVLWXDWH
self and others within knowledge and representation. Prosopopoeia
FRPHVIURPWKH*UHHNprosopon poieinPHDQLQJWRJLYHRUPDNHD
face, and is a process whereby the other “is made as intelligible and
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Ȥ$XWRELRJUDSK\DV'HIDFHPHQWȥ3URVRSRSRHLFPRXUQLQJVHHNV
to confer a knowable, determinate self to the other, threatened by
dissolution and death.
Derrida describes this kind of mourning as a form of interiorization:
we bring the other into ourselves and our memory for safekeeping.
He characterizes such interiorization as something both violent and
tender: both as a kind of devouring of the other, and a carrying of the
RWKHUDVLILWZHUHDQXQERUQFKLOGȤ0QHPRV\QHȥȟ+HFRQFHGHV
that it can be tempting to hold a loved one near even though he is gone
forever—to keep him in one’s heart, to preserve his memory through
images of his face and imagined conversations based on what he might
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LVDZHOONQRZQSDURG\RIWKLVWHQGHQF\1HYHUWKHOHVV'HUULGDVWUHVVHV
in keeping with de Man, that such attempts at preservation ultimately
serve to mask the other’s loss, and, perhaps even more importantly,
the fact that the other is another, and can never be fully interiorized.
The other’s death obliges us to confront the fact, perhaps more obvious
during life, that the other “is greater than . . . what . . . we can bear,
FDUU\RUFRPSUHKHQGȥȤ0QHPRV\QHȥ
This leads Derrida to seek a different form of mourning, one that
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6 Witnessing beyond the Human
Ȥ0QHPRV\QHȥ7KDWLVKHVHHNVDPRXUQLQJWKDWZRXOGLQFOXGH
“respect for the other as other, a sort of tender rejection, a movement
of renunciation which leaves the other alone, outside, over there,
LQ KLV GHDWK RXWVLGH RI XVȥ 5DWKHU WKDQ D IRUP RI SURVRSRSRHLD
this mourning would constitute a kind of apostrophe in the sense
invoked by Ross Chambers, as informed by the Greek roots apo and
strophe LQGLFDWLQJ D WXUQLQJDZD\ Untimely Inter ventions: AIDS
Writing, Testimonial, and the Rhetoric of Haunting This other
kind of mourning involves a turning-to that is also a turning-away,
a turning that recognizes the other’s turning—taken to an extreme
in the form of death, even though it occurs in life as well. This sense
of apostrophe testifies to the other as inappropriable and ultimately
unknowable, responding to the law of iterability mentioned in the
LQWURGXFWLRQLWLQYROYHVDȤVKRXOGȥDUHVSRQVLELOLW\WRWKHRWKHUDQG
yet it is also ultimately inevitable.
This turning has two especially important effects on the survivor
and survival itself, including the survivor’s relationship to time and
the world. Mourning presupposes a connection to something past,
and the prosopopoeic form of mourning tries to bring that past
into the present, whereby the lost other continues to live in the
mind of the survivor—often in a timeless fashion, since the other’s
persona consists of memories that are for the most part unchanging.
Apostrophic memory and mourning address the past and the past life
of another, but they do not try to contain them in the present. On
the contrary, they open the present to the temporality of the other,
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temporalities, including the future.
Related to this opening to the temporality of the other is Derrida’s
description of mourning in relation to an alternate notion of pregnancy:
not as the carriage of an integral other within an integral self, as in
prosopopoeic mourning, but as an experience that disrupts self-presence
and shows us that “we are never ourselvesȥȤ0QHPRV\QHȥ7 The
aporia of mourning involves a kind of taking-in of something that
cannot be taken in, and which leads to an engendering of possibility
LQVHPLQDWLRQDVGLVVHPLQDWLRQLI\RXZLOO/LNHSUHJQDQF\PRXUQLQJ
“can only take . . . form through the trace of the other in us, the other’s
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WKHWUDFHRIWKHRWKHUWKHˋQLWXGHRIPHPRU\DQGWKXVWKHDSSURDFKRU
UHPHPEUDQFHRIWKHIXWXUHȥȤ0QHPRV\QHȥ
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism 7
between life and survival, the frontal and the frontier, the singular and
the multiple, and past, present, and future. The encounter with the
other is never immediate and present, but extends out into search and
passage. A sense of exposure to the unknown occurs whether the other
is familiar or a stranger, dead or alive, or an individual or a collective.
It also inevitably occurs in time, in which the traces of the past and
the future expose the present to multiple, unknowable possibilities—
radically distinct from the structural narrative of redemption that he
associates with Montonero philosophy, in which past and future are
foregone conclusions, and the materiality of life or másvidaLVVDFULˋFHG
LQIDYRURIDQLGHDOHQG(VFKHZLQJVXFKDOLQHDUWHOHRORJ\*HOPDQȢV
work appeals to an alternate form of Messianism, analogous to what
Derrida calls messianicity, in which an openness to the alterity of time
and the temporality of the other forms the condition of possibility of
real change, including a radical sense of justice.
Gelman’s idiosyncratic style is central to his apostrophic poetics,
which engages the materiality of language to disrupt familiarity and
coherence. The most characteristic of these techniques is his excessive
use of the virgule, normally used to indicate poetic line breaks in
prose quotations, but which is used throughout much of his work as
an indication of rupture and discontinuity. In addition to his peculiar
punctuation, Gelman makes minor innovations in his use of language,
using feminine articles for masculine nouns and vice versa, making
verbs out of nouns, and other similar shifts. These strategies introduce
elements of strangeness into the familiar space of language, requiring
us to question the reliability of linguistic convention, and stressing the
fact that meaning is not something to be taken for granted. Together
with a frequent use of diminutives, these alterations also suggest the
idea that language is unfamiliar to the poet, as well, as if he were a
FKLOGOHDUQLQJWRXVHODQJXDJHWKLVLVLPSOLHGHVSHFLDOO\ZLWKȤHUURUVȥ
such as using escribidos for escritos,QGHHGSRHWU\PD\EHRQHIRUPRI
communicating how much we need to learn in and of language. Such
learning is also always an unlearning, in that it does not result in a wiser,
more complete poetic subject, analogous to his remark about how the
awareness of death makes us human and inhuman.10 He indicates this
through a recurrence of pseudonyms, pseudo-translation, quotation, and
intertextuality, among other techniques. This emphasis on mediation
disrupts any sense of self-possession through language, and performs
the inevitable disruption and incompleteness of humanist autonomy. His
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism 9
life and death, history and the present are not mutually exclusive,
but are permeable and interdependent. Sidney West himself is said
to be both human and animal, alive and dead, and—in a particularly
intriguing image—he is described as split and turning around himself
OLNH D ZDWHUZKHHO GRQNH\ sidney . . . // giró con west como burro de
noria Like the equivocal truths that structure the poem, he, or his
DSRFU\SKDODXWKRULDOQDPHLVQRWXQLˋHGDQGGLVWLQJXLVKHGIURP
what he is not, but is internally divided and rotating. Such a rotation
suggests an errancy intrinsic to both subjectivity and writing, and, as
the poems attributed to West attest, is also related to the way we relate
to ourselves and others.
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ȟLQWURGXFHVWKHUHODWLRQVDPRQJSRHWLFHUUDQF\PRUWDOLW\DQG
community. The poem describes a man who was found dead during a
WLPHRIXQVSHFLˋHGQDWLRQDOFULVLVDQGZKRVHOLIHDQGGHDWKJRDOPRVW
entirely unnoticed, even by forces that view themselves as revolutionary.
In the midst of the national upheaval, parsifal’s dead body is found in
GLIIHUHQWWLPHVDQGSODFHVlo encontraron muerto varias vecesVXJJHVWLQJ
a recurrent encounter with the nearly invisible lives and deaths of the
underclass. His death receives no formal notice—there is no obituary,
and his body is unceremoniously picked up by a trash collector—but
nevertheless a trace remains that years of rain cannot erase: “that rain
rained for years and years on the pavement of Hereby Street // without
HUDVLQJWKHOHDVWWUDFHRIZKDWKDSSHQHGȥ¡esa lluvia llovió años y años
sobre el pavimento de Hereby Street // sin borrar la más minima huella de lo
acontecido!:LWKPRFNFHUWLWXGHWKHSRHPXUJHVWKHUHDGHUWRDFFHSW
this as truth—“know that this is exactly what happened // that nothing
HOVHKDSSHQHGEXWWKLVEHQHDWKWKLVEOXHVN\RUYDXOWȥsepa que esto
es exactamente lo que pasó // que ninguna otra cosa pasó sino esto // bajo
este cielo o bóveda celeste+RZHYHUWKHVRXQGRIȤRȥDVERWKLQWHUMHFWLRQ
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VXFKDVHQVHRIFORVXUHDQGFHUWDLQW\7KHˋQDOLPDJHRIWKHVN\DV
metaphor for clarity and truth, is divided and rendered equivocal by
WKHFRPSDUDWLYHȤRȥZKLFKUHLQIRUFHVWKHGXDOVHQVHRIbóveda, shared
E\WKH(QJOLVKȤYDXOWȥDVERWKWKHFXUYHGH[SDQVHRIVN\DQGEXULDO
chamber, stressing an indeterminate relation between revelation and
concealment, knowledge and not-knowing, regarding parsifal’s death.
7KHSRHPȤODPHQWIRUWKHXWHUXVuteróRIPHFKDYDXJKDPȥȤȟ
extends this sense of indeterminacy to the nature of life. The poem
12 Witnessing beyond the Human
describes a woman who lived most of her life in her uterus, far from
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a preterit verb, suggesting that her reproductive potential has ended.
Nevertheless, things grow and thrive inside her—she has, in effect, an
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ODQGVFDSHVIXOORIQHUYRXVELUGVȥ>conoció paisajes raros llenos de pájaros
nerviosos@6KHUHDOL]HVWKDWVKHFDQQRWPRYHDVIUHHO\DVWKHFUHDWXUHV
inside her, but their movement inspires her to ask why this is:
ȤZKDWLVWKLVWKDWPDNHVPHVWLFNWRWKHˌRRU"
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would the world the ox that which childs be /
if we didn’t devour ourselves /
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DV\QGHWRQ ȤWKH ZRUOG WKH R[ WKDW ZKLFK FKLOGVȥ VHHPV WR LQGLFDWH
that the three elements share a common condition, and may even be
considered different aspects of the same thing, that is, the experience
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that a kind of animality is central to the world. Gelman’s animal
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of life that can be repressed or domesticated, and even castrated, but
QHYHUIXOO\WKHˋQDOVRXQGRIȤ\ȥLQbuey suggesting the possibility
of something else emerging from it, as mecha’s poem indicates
ZLWKWKHRGGH[SUHVVLRQȤWKDWZKLFKFKLOGVȥ Mecha asks how this
self-differential, procreative world would be “if we didn’t devour
ourselves / if we loved a lot . . . // if we were or were / like human
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form of ingestion, a subsumption of the other into the self, and
amorar D QHRORJLVP WKDW FRQWDLQV WKH ZRUGV IRU ORYH amor DQG
GZHOOLQJ morar DSSHDUV WR FRQWUDVW ZLWK VXFK LQWHUQDOL]DWLRQ17
7KH IRUPXODWLRQ ȤKXPDQ IDFHVȥ DVVRFLDWHV VXFK OLYLQJ WKURXJK
and with others as a specifically human attribute. At first glance it
might appear that such humanness is characterized by a completion
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resonance between rostros and resto VXJJHVWVWKDWWKHˋJXUHRIWKH
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conjunctive o DQG VWULFWO\ K\SRWKHWLFDO si fuéremos o fuésemos
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as supplement of something that can never be complete, el resto,
understood as both indeterminate others and that which remains.
7KHˋQDOODPHQWRIWKHERRNȤODPHQWIRUWKHOLWWOHVSRRQRIVDPP\
PFFR\ȥȟGHVFULEHVWKHSHUPHDEOHDQGVKLIWLQJOLPLWVRIOLIH
and death. The figure of the spoon evokes two texts that similarly
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DQG&«VDU9DOOHMRȢVȤ3HGUR5RMDVȥ In both cases, death represents
QRWˋQDOLW\EXWDFRQWLQXDWLRQRIOLIHDQGUHSUHVHQWDWLRQ,Q0DVWHUVȢV
book—undoubtedly a source of inspiration for Los poemas de Sidney
WestȠGHDGFKDUDFWHUVSUHVHQWHSLWDSKVRIWKHLUIHOORZWRZQVSHRSOH
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is found on the dead body of Pedro Rojas before he rises to continue
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compañeros,QȤODPHQWIRUWKHOLWWOHVSRRQRIVDPP\PFFR\ȥWKHOLWWOH
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14 Witnessing beyond the Human
that which the rain the sun or the great planet or the system of
life separates
death brings back together
but sammy mccoy still spoke
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7KH V\VWHP RU juego RI OLIH LV VDLG WR VHSDUDWH WKLQJV LPSO\LQJ D
perpetuation of difference and movement, while death is said to bring
things together, subsuming difference into the same. The mention
of rain and sun may be a gesture to temporal difference, reinforced
by the fact that the word for weather in Spanish is the same as the
ZRUGIRUWLPHel tiempoVDPP\ȢVTXHVWLRQUHSHDWHGHYHQDIWHUKLV
death, resists the idea that death is an atemporal and unified state.
+LVȤFKLOGUHQȥ ZKRVH WHPSRUDO GLIIHUHQFHV DUH RVWHQVLEO\ EURXJKW
WRJHWKHULQGHDWKfueron juntosPRFNDVKDGRZWKDWWULHVWRXQLWH
them, shouting güeya güeyaZKLFKFDQPHDQVRPHWKLQJOLNHȤIRROȥ
but is also homophonic with the word huella, meaning track or trace.
Both repetition and traces involve time and difference even after
GHDWK7KHˋQDOOLQHRIWKHSRHPUHLQIRUFHVWKLVLGHDZLWKDSOD\RQ
words: “sammy the one who walks // sammy mccoy stepped on the
VXQDQGGHSDUWHGȥVDPP\HOTXHFDPLQDVDPP\PFFR\SLVµHOVRO\
SDUWLµ21 sammy’s death is described not as a cessation of movement
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continue to move and change in time, even as his traces—like those of
parsifal hoolig—persist beneath the elements.
ȤWRP\VRQȥLWLVDOVRGHVFULEHGDVDQRSHQOHWWHUDQGSXEOLVKHGDVD
book. The openness of this poetic letter functions on several different
levels. In the most explicit sense it is a public declaration of his intimate
grief for his son coupled with a demand for justice. On another level
the book’s title invokes an apostrophic address of the lost son, which,
like Derrida’s reading of Celan’s association of world and loss, opens
toward—engendering and sending itself toward—a different sense of
world. Appealing to alter-immunological notions of life and singularity,
justice and world, this sense of openness contrasts starkly with the
GLFWDWRUVKLSȢVˌDJUDQWGLVUHJDUGIRUOLIHDQGLQVWUXPHQWDOL]DWLRQRI
disappearance and death. Coming on the heels of Gelman’s break with
the Montoneros and subsequent death sentence, it can also be seen as
DFULWLTXHRIWKHLUVDFULˋFLDOLGHRORJ\LQZKLFKGHDWKVVXFKDVWKLVZHUH
HDVLO\MXVWLˋHGE\WKHLGHDORIUHYROXWLRQȤ,I\RXGLHLWGRHVQȢWPDWWHU
because tomorrow, when we achieve victory, there will be a school
QDPHGDIWHU\RXȥContraderrota,WLVDOVRIXQGDPHQWDOO\GLVWLQFW
from the prosopopoeic nature of most memory politics, including what
Bollig, following Christian Gundermann, calls a melancholic embrace
of the past.
Carta abierta FRQVLVWVRIWZHQW\ˋYHSRHPVIROORZHGE\DQDIWHUZRUG
that explains the circumstances of his son’s loss:
RQ$XJXVW
my son marcelo ariel and
his pregnant wife claudia
were kidnapped in
buenos aires by a
military commando. their child
was born [and died] in
the concentration camp.
as in tens of thousands
of other cases, the military
GLFWDWRUVKLSQHYHURIˋFLDOO\
recognized these
ȤGLVDSSHDUHGȥLWVSRNHRI
ȤWKRVHDEVHQWIRUHYHUȥ
until i see their bodies
or their killers, i’ll never
JLYHWKHPXSIRUGHDWKCarta abierta
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism 17
el 24 de agosto de 1976
mi hijo marcelo ariel y
su mujer claudia, encinta,
fueron secuestrados en
buenos aires por un
comando militar. el hijo
de ambos nació [y murió] en
el campo de concentración.
como en decenas de miles
de otros casos, la dictadura
militar nunca reconoció
RˋFLDOPHQWHDHVWRV
‘desaparecidos.’ habló de
‘los ausentes para siempre.’
hasta que no vea sus cadáveres
o a sus asesinos, nunca los
daré por muertos.
RUWKHLUNLOOHUVȥWRDNLQGRIDSSDULWLRQDOKDXQWLQJRIWKLVZRUOGDQG
especially the capacities of state power. The epilogue is conditioned
E\WKLVˋQDOSURPLVHZKLFKEUHDNVIURPWKHFRQVWDWLYHODQJXDJHRI
WKHˋUVWVHFWLRQDQGVHQGVWKHERRNRIIWRZDUGWKHZRUOGZLWKDQRSHQ
commitment to memory and justice.
The poems themselves are hard to read, in more ways than one.
The terrible topic of the son’s death is approached in a fragmented
and halting way, marked by numerous virg ules and convoluted
syntax. The book opens with the urgent and unresolvable question of
address, that is, what kind of relationship the poet can have with his
absent son: “speak or unspeak to you/ my pain/ // way of having you/
XQKDYLQJ\RXȥhablarte o deshablarte/ dolor mío/ //manera de tenerte/
destenerte/ ,QLWLDOO\ WKH WZR SDLUV RI YHUEV DSSHDU WR EH SRVLWLYH
and negative terms, corresponding roughly to having or unhaving,
speaking or unspeaking. +RZHYHUWKHSUHˋ[des-, which echoes the
VRQȢV VWDWXV RI GLVDSSHDUHG desaparecido LQGLFDWHV QRW VR PXFK D
VWULFWQHJDWLYHDVWKHQHHGWRˋQGDQRWKHUZD\RIPRXUQLQJEH\RQG
the prosopopoeic presence implied by the verbs speaking and having.
Any memory or address to the son must acknowledge the fact that
he cannot be held, either in life or in memory. The poems repeatedly
observe how there is no integral sense of self to sustain his memory.
One poem describes the son’s disappearance as a stroke that pushes
WKHSRHWRXWRIKLPVHOItoque sacándome de mí DQGZKLFKUHQGHUV
XVHOHVVDQGRGLRXVVWDWLFFDWHJRULHVRIPHPRU\ȤWKHZDVWKHOHWȢV
UHPHPEHUȥ>el sido/ el recordemos@3RHP;,,,5DWKHUWKDQKROGLQJ
integral memories and images of his son, the poet is left to gather
fragments that will never add up to be a whole: “what am I going to do
ZLWKPHP\SLHFH"ZKDWOLWWOHSLHFHVFDQ,FROOHFWQRZ"ȥ¿qué voy
a hacer con mí/ pedazo mío? // ¿qué pedacitos puedo ya juntar?/ Poem
,,,1RWRQO\LVWKHUHQRWDZKROHLPDJHRUPHPRU\RIKLVVRQWRKDYH
or speak to, but any address of the son is also an address of himself.
This is the sense of the accent in mí, which introduces an ambiguity
EHWZHHQSRVVHVVLYHDGMHFWLYHȤZKDWDP,JRLQJWRGRZLWKP\SLHFH"ȥ
DQGUHˌH[LYHREMHFWDQGHSLWKHWȤZKDWDP,JRLQJWRGRZLWKP\VHOI
P\ SLHFH"ȥ 7KLV ȤHTXLYRFDWLRQȥ LV DOVR HYLGHQW LQ WKH ˋUVW OLQH RI
SRHP,LQZKLFKWKHIRUPXODWLRQȤGRORUP¯RȥLVERWKDWHQGHUHSLWKHW
applied to the son and a reference to the poet’s own pain.
To unhave and unspeak—returning to the first poem’s opening
questions—appears to correspond to an apostrophic form of mourning
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism 19
that turns toward the other and also recognizes the distance and
disaggregation of both self and other. Following the questions of how
to speak and hold the other, the poem describes a dynamic that moves
beyond having and holding: “passion that worlds its punishment like //
VRQWKDWˌLHVWKURXJKTXLHWQHVVWKURXJKUDSWXUHVȥpasión que munda
su castigo como // hijo que vuela por quietudes por // arrobamientos/7KLV
form of passion is impersonal, belonging not to the poet, but moving
through him like the memories of his son move through different
states and spaces. The association of passion and movement invokes
the etymological link between passion and passage, that is, between
suffering and movement. 27 The emphasis on movement recalls the
LGHDSUHVHQWHGLQȤODPHQWRSRUVDPP\PFFR\ȥWKDWGHDWKLVDVWDWH
of completion and sameness, whereas life involves movement and
difference. The poet cannot have his son or hold on to him in memory,
but he can continue to follow the movements of his absence, both in
himself and in the world.
This passionate movement—even of disappearance and death—in
some sense constitutes the world, indicated by the neologism mundar.
The sense of world and worlding is mentioned at other points in the book
DQGWKURXJKRXW*HOPDQȢVZRUNDQRWDEOHLQVWDQFHLVKLVERRNRI
poems, Mundar,QCarta abierta, it appears together with the neologism
terrarHDUWKLQJDVDQRSHQLQJWRWKHPRYHPHQWVRIOLIHLQWKHVHQVHRI
a survival that includes the past as well as the future. This is indicated
in the rest of poem I, where the poet’s grief pushes out of the imagined
HPEUDFHZLWKWKHVRQWRDVHULHVRIGLVFRQWLQXRXVLPDJHVWKDWȤKDXQWȥ
penarWKHSRHWȢVSUHVHQWDQGHQGVZLWKWKHRSHQVN\RIWKHIXWXUH
7KHUHVWOHVVQHVVRIKLVSDLQDQGWKHQRWTXLWHGHDGQHVVRIWKHVRQWZR
kinds of penaOHDGWKHSRHWWRVD\WKDWKHZRXOGQHYHUȤWLUHRIXQZDLWLQJ
>XQKRSLQJGHVSDLULQJ@\RXȥcansaría de desesperarte/), invoking a
peculiar kind of hope and waiting. This unhoping for the disappeared is
not a theological anticipation of the resurrection of his spirit, nor only
a literal waiting for the return of his body, but an apostrophic openness
to his spectral traces and a commitment to what may come—including,
but not limited to, the return of his son’s remains. The poet describes
KLVVRQDVȤIDFHRUQLJKWZKHUH\RXVKLQHPRVWVWDUULO\RI\RXȥrostro
o noche // donde brillás astrísimo de vosVXJJHVWLQJWKDWLQVSLWHRIWKH
SRHWȢVSURIHVVHGVHQVHRIEOLQGQHVVciegüísimoKHSHUFHLYHVJOLPPHUV
of light through the dark sky, like the light of distant and possibly dead
stars that continues to shine through time and space.
20 Witnessing beyond the Human
padre que te dolía, qué país sangrás, 3RHPV ,,, 9,,ȠDQG VHHP WR
disappear, at least in their known forms, into “suffering or suffered
ODQJXDJHȥpadecimiento o lengua padecida3RHP,,,,QWKHVXIIHULQJ
ODQJXDJHRIWKHVHSRHPVZKLFKDJDLQHYRNHVWKHILJXUHRIWKHIDWKHU
as padre and decirWKHSRHWVWUXJJOHVWRhijar new forms of relation
that respond both to his son’s disappearance and the continued
coming of the world.
7KHˋQDOWZRSRHPVSUHVHQWGLIIHUHQWFRQFHSWLRQVRIZKDWWKHHQG
of mourning will be like and what it will mean for a sense of the world.
Poem XXIV imagines a kind of resurrection of the son:
The virgules and the question marks disrupt any sense of narra-
tive continuity or certainty. The first questions indicate a sense of
searching in the dark for the son, at once familiar and strange, distant
and close. The juxtaposition of the gerund forms of muriendo and desmu-
riendo suggests that there is no resolution in sight. The dying and not
dying of disappearance may well affect the present “para siempreȥ
7KLVVHQVHRILQˋQLW\KRZHYHULVQRWZLWKRXWFKDQJHVLQFHWKHVRQȢV
language begins to move. The father wonders if he will deface his diga,
the command to speak, possibly invoking the presumed interrogations
before his death, or perhaps even a wishful father who wants his son’s
absence to say something to him. Speech thus freed from the demand
for prosopopoeic knowledge of the other, the son’s peros or protesta-
tions, and his desdecir—possibly also a form of speaking against, but
DOVRSRVVLEO\ZKDWKLVGLVDSSHDUDQFHȤVD\VȥWKHVSHFWUDOVLOHQFHRIKLV
DEVHQFHȠFDQHQWHULQWRPRWLRQERWKDVDVSHFWUDOZDQGHULQJrecam-
inarDQGDQH[SORVLYHVFDWWHULQJllover, estallar7KHGLYHUJHQFHDQG
GLVVHPLQDWLRQSDUDGR[LFDOO\FRH[LVWZLWKDWXUQLQJLQZDUGenvuelto
RUWKHFDUULDJHRIVRPHWKLQJJDWKHUHGDQGHQIROGHG7KHˋUVWZRUGRI
WKHˋQDOVWDQ]DVXJJHVWVWKDWZKDWLVFDUULHGPD\EHFRQVLGHUHGWREH
24 Witnessing beyond the Human
WKHVRQȢVȤVRXOȥEXWQRWLQWKHFRQYHQWLRQDO&KULVWLDQVHQVHRIDVSLULW
GHVWLQHGIRUUHGHPSWLRQȤ$OP£VȥDQGLWVHFKRȤDP£VȥVXJJHVWWKDWWKH
LQZDUGWXUQRIWKHVRXODOVRLQYROYHVDQRXWZDUGWXUQWRRWKHUVamar
DQGWRDQXQNQRZQIXWXUHa más7KHRXWZDUGWHPSRUDODQGVSDWLDO
turn is reiterated in the next clause, in which the soul is said to terrar, a
neologism that seems to signify the same material movement as mundar,
while also evoking and exceeding its cognates enterrar and desterrar
EXU\ DQG H[LOH 7KH PRYHPHQWV RI WKLV UHVWOHVV VRXOȠWKDW LVWKH
enduring memory of his disappearance—will inexorably haunt our world,
RSHQLQJLWWRWKHSRVVLELOLW\RIMXVWLFHDSRVVLELOLW\ˋJXUHGDVDȤVXQȥD
not-so-distant star to which the earth is unavoidably exposed. Justice
appears not as a predetermined outcome—for instance, the punishment
of his son’s assassins—but as a name that invokes an unknown possi-
bility, including the possibility that something called justice may come
to be. This resonates with Derrida’s understanding of the term, which
KHGHVFULEHVDVDUDGLFDOH[SRVXUHWRWKHȤODZȥRIWKHRWKHURogues
ȠZKDW,GHVFULEHLQP\LQWURGXFWLRQDVVLPXOWDQHRXVO\DQXQHQGLQJ
responsibility to others and the unavoidable fact that otherness exists.
This exposure to the other is the essence of ¿hijás?, a word that reminds
us how fragile possibility is.
patria as something that can be sought but never fully found, whether
externally, as an autonomous object, or internally, as an ideal:
“country of grace // . . . you work hidden in me // and the more I seek
\RX RXWVLGH WKH PRUH KLGGHQ \RX DUH IURP \RXUVHOIȥ patria de
gracia // . . . trabajás escondida en mí // y cuánto más te busco fuera //
más escondida sos/ de vos/ Comentario ;;;,,WVXQDWWDLQDELOLW\LVQRW
temporary, but part of its very nature, a result of the alterity inherent
to every collective relation. The search for how to live with others
without the comforting structure of propriety or place—traditional
attributes of patria—runs throughout the poems. Patria is only one
QDPHIRUWKLVVHDUFKJHQHUDOO\LWLVQRWQDPHGDWDOORQO\DGGUHVVHG
through the relationship of the poet and the unnamed vos, and
implied through the book’s dedications. At times, however, it receives
WKHQDPHȤZRUOGȥLQNHHSLQJZLWK*HOPDQȢVUHFXUUHQWWXUQWRWKLV
term as the fundamentally open space of life. The poems endeavor
WRNHHSWKLVVSDFHRSHQXVLQJȤRSHQZRUGVȥpalabrabiertas) to resist
ȤWKHHQFORVXUHRIWKHZRUOGȥel encerramiento de la mundo Citas XLV,
;;,97KLVRSHQQHVVGHVFULEHVQRWMXVWDQRSHQQHVVWRZDUGRWKHUV
but also—as at the end of Carta abierta—the ultimate consequence of
DUDGLFDORSHQQHVVWRRWKHUVWKHSRVVLELOLW\RIMXVWLFHȤERG\WRWKH
VXQRIMXVWLFH"ȥ>¿cuerpo al sol de la justicia?/] &LWDV;;;,,,;/,,,
Contrary to this emphasis on openness, María del Carmen Sillato
GHVFULEHVWKHSRHPVDVDVHDUFKIRUXQLRQZLWKWKHRWKHUˋJXUHGDVD
kind of entrance into interiority. This sense of interiority operates at
VHYHUDOOHYHOVLQFOXGLQJWKHLQWHULRULW\RILQWLPDF\EHWZHHQORYHUVȤD
GLDORJXHLQZKLFKWKHRXWVLGHLVH[FOXGHGȥJuan Gelman, Las estrategias
de la otredad DQGWKDWRILQFOXVLRQLQDFROOHFWLYLW\ȤLQRUGHUWR
LQFOXGHKLPVHOILQDFROOHFWLYHZLWKZKLFKKHLGHQWLˋHVȥJuan Gelman, Las
estrategias de la otredad:KHQWKHSRHPLQGLFDWHVWKDWWKHGHVLUHG
entrance into interiority is not possible, she claims that the entrance is
achieved internally, by means of spiritualism and writing: “The union-
reencounter with his lover . . . is possible in the most interior site of his
soul within the frame of a mystical experience that the poet recuperates
WKDQNVWRKLVZULWLQJȥJuan Gelman, Las estrategias de la otredad
She considers the structure of interiority especially pronounced in the
ˋUVWSRHPVRIComentarios, which she links to Santa Teresa’s treatise
Interior Castles, or The Mansions Castillo interior, o MoradasDWH[W
that describes the path to God as an entrance into an interior castle.
Although the poems undoubtedly use imagery from this source, they
28 Witnessing beyond the Human
GHPRQVWUDWHDGLVWLQFWO\GLIIHUHQWUHODWLRQVKLSWRWKHˋJXUHRILQWHULRULW\
than that proposed by Sillato.
Ȥ&RPHQWDULR,,,VDQWDWHUHVDȥLVSHUKDSVWKHPRVWHYLGHQWH[DPSOH
of a spatialized relationship between the poet and the vos. The vos
is described as an enclosed space, protected from disturbance or
memory: “mud/ glass/ stone/ everything // must be ordered or silent
RUHQFORVHGDQGQRWKLQJVKRXOGOHDYHDGLVWXUEDQFHRUPHPRU\ȥ
EDUURYLGULRSLHGUDWRGRVHRUGHQHRFDOOHRWDSLH\QDGDGHMH
HVWRUER R PHPRULDȥ 7KH GHVFULSWLRQ RI RUGHU VLOHQFH HQFORVXUH
and resistance to memory and other forms of disturbance suggests a
country under military rule. In spite of its fortification, the enclosed
structure nevertheless has a point of vulnerability, a door where “love
FDQHQWHUȥ7KLVGRHVQRWKRZHYHUPHDQWKDWWKHSRHWFDQHQWHULWV
interior or that any union can be consummated. Love is described as
ZDUPWKOLJKWQLJKWDQGȤGHVLUHGGHVLUHȥȤOLNHKHDWRUFODULW\RU
like shelter/ . . . or light // if they extinguished the day/ or like // desire
WKDWLVGHVLUHGȥ>como calor o claridad/ . . . o como amparo/ . . . o luz
// si apagaron el día/ o como // deseo que es deseado@DOOHSKLPHUDO
things that can filter through the protective shield but not necessarily
remain interiorized. Other things, including the poet himself, are
barred entrance: “even if //nothing else enters/ not even // I enter and
UHPDLQDURXQGOLNHPHHNZRUNOLNHVXFFXOHQWVRUURZRYHU\RXȥ
aunque // nada otra cosa entre/ ni siquiera // yo entre y quede alrededor
// como manso trabajo/ como pena // sabrosa sobre vos,QVSLWHRIKLV
LQDELOLW\WRHQWHUWKHVSDFHRIWKHRWKHUKHȤUHPDLQVDURXQGȥLW7KLV
ȤUHPDLQLQJDURXQGȥLVGHVFULEHGDVDNLQGRIFDOPZRUNWKDWLVLWLVD
form not of passive inactivity, but a task that returns him repeatedly
to the impossibility of entrance to the other. It is also described as a
form of pena, a word that signifies pain or grief but also, as we saw in
Open Letter, a form of haunting—a form of limbo or return from which
one cannot move on. The fact that pena also means a pen or writing
LQVWUXPHQWIURPWKH/DWLQpennaIHDWKHUVXJJHVWVWKDWWKLVIRUP
of remaining around is related to writing, performed by the versical
turns of the poems themselves.
,Q Ȥ&RPHQWDULR , VDQWD WHUHVDȥ WKH SRHWȢV UHODWLRQVKLS WR WKH
other is shown to be more complex than a simple spatial metaphor of
LQVLGHDQGRXWVLGH/LNHȤ&RPHQWDULR,,,ȥWKHSRHPLVDGGUHVVHGWR
an unnamed vos that can be understood to be both an intimate lover
and the poet’s country. In this poem, perhaps more than the other, it
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism 29
The final stanza describes another form of search for the singular-
plural vos: “or rather/ life is hard or this // health that I tunnel to
find you like light/ // or word/ little branch where you sit like // your
KDQGRQP\KHDUWȥo sea/ dura es la vida o esta // salud que cavo para
encontrarte como luz/ // o palabra/ ramita donde te poses como // la
mano tuya sobre mi corazón 7KH LPDJH RI WKH SRHW GLJJLQJ ZLWKLQ
himself to find the other seems to point to the idea proposed by
Sillato, that the poet conjures a mystical and literary union within
himself as a substitute for a reunion with the vos. However, the act of
tunneling or digging in himself, literally in his salud—health, but also
WKDWZKLFKLVXQKDUPHGRUZKROHIURPWKH/DWLQsalvusȠVXJJHVWVD
self-partition that disrupts any intact, mystical sense of interiority. He
searches within himself not hoping to find the other prosopopoeically
intact, but for an encounter that he compares to a light, a word, or a
twig where the other, as the bird-like love addressed in the first stanza,
might rest momentarily from its flight. The poet does not hope to
LQWHUQDOL]HWKHRWKHUZLWKLQKLPVHOIQRUGRHVKHDLPWRȤFDSWXUHȥWKH
RWKHU WKURXJK ODQJXDJH DV 6LOODWR DIILUPV /DQJXDJH LV QRW D
space of interiority, but a site of passage, a medium that might retain
traces of the other’s partitions and departures.
,QȤ&RPHQWDULR,ȥDVLQȤ&RPHQWDULR,,,ȥWKHSRHWFDQEHVDLGWRȤUHPDLQ
DURXQGȥWKHRXWVLGHRILPSRVVLEOHLQWHULRULW\,QWLPDF\DQGFROOHFWLYLW\
are not integral and static structures, houses that can be entered and
OHIWHQGVWKDWFDQEHGHˋQLWLYHO\DFKLHYHG7KH\DUHERWKREMHFWVRIDQG
participants in an endless search, an endless dynamic of rodeando and
ȤSDUWLHQGR\TXHG£QGRVHDODYH]ȥUHPDLQLQJSDUWRIVRPHWKLQJIURP
which they always necessarily depart. This is of course exacerbated by
the loss of loved ones, country, and the collective effort to revolutionize
the nation, but it is not exclusively dependent on such losses, nor is it a
temporary condition that can be overcome. The experiences of exile and
PRXUQLQJPD\LQGHHGLQGLFDWHDFRQGLWLRQRILQFRPSOHWLRQDQGˋQLWXGH
that is always there—even though they can also inspire the opposite
UHDFWLRQDWDOLVPDQLFEHOLHILQWKHLQWHJULW\RIWKHKRPHODQGNQRZQ
DVORQJGLVWDQFHQDWLRQDOLVPRUSURVRSRSRHLFPHPRU\:KLOHQRQH
of Gelman’s previous poems espouse redemptive notions of unity and
completion, the poems in Comentarios and Citas are perhaps the most
pointed in emphasizing their impossibility in the individual and collective
relationships that constitute the aporetic notion of patria.
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism 31
The beginning of the poem describes a longing to move from the sabor
RIWKHRWKHUWRDUULYHDWDYLVLRQRIXQLˋFDWLRQȤYHUQRVHQYRVȥȠDQ
arrival that some critics have taken at face value. The subjunctive
mood of the verbs in the first two stanzas serve, however, as a
cautionary reminder that such a transformation remains an unrealized
desire. In stanza two the first word, igual, suggests an achievement
of synchronic sameness that is belied by the subsequent paratactic
inversions between the yo and the vos, which seem better represented
E\WKHˋQDOZRUGLQWKHVWDQ]Dconvirtiéndome, which etymologically
VLJQLˋHVDWXUQLQJ with as much as a turning into. The similes in stanza
three appear to illustrate this process of con-version or turning. The
ˋUVWLPDJHLQYRNHVDWDFWLOHˋJXUHWKDWFRQWUDVWVZLWKWKHˋUVWVWDQ]DȢV
emphasis on visuality, and whose peculiar syntax suggests a continued
separation, in which the poet’s hand reaches out to find the other.
7KHRWKHULPDJHVUHLQIRUFHWKLVVHQVHRILQFRPSOHWLRQRUXQIXOˋOPHQW
ZLWKDGHVLULQJGHVLUHDQGDˋUHWKDWFUDFNOHVDJDLQVWSDLQLQWKHVDOLYD
LQDVSDWLDOO\FRQIXVLQJLPDJHWKDWVHHPVWRVXJJHVWDˋUHZDUGLQJRII
wild animals from a cave, except that the threat comes from within,
DQGVSHFLˋFDOO\IURPWKHYHU\SODFHRIsabor, the mouth.
In stanza four the poem begins a dizzying series of inversions of
the gazes of the yo and the vosȤ\\RWHYHU«DYRVHQWXKHUPRVXUD
\PHYHU£VHQWXKHUPRVXUD\\RPHYHU«HQYRVHQWXKHUPRVXUDȥ
As in stanza two, the structure seems to multiply and confuse the two
rather than fuse them into one. Furthermore, the virgules and the
34 Witnessing beyond the Human
SRO\V\QGHWRQLFFRQMXQFWLRQVOHIWGDQJOLQJDWWKHHQGRIOLQHVȤ\\Rȥ
Ȥ\ȥȤ\VHDȥȤ\YRVȥVXJJHVWGLVUXSWLRQDQGDQH[FHVVLYHUHPDLQGHUWKDW
does not allow the yo and the vos to fold in on themselves. The triple
repetition of the preposition comoDWWKHHQGRIOLQHVLQWKHˋQDOWKUHH
stanzas emphasizes the sense of an incomplete analogy or turn between
the two gazes.
The penultimate comoDWWKHHQGRIVWDQ]DˋYHUHWXUQVWKHORRSLQJ
conversions of yo and vos WR WKH ȤGLFKD VDERU GH YRVȥ ZLWK ZKLFK
the poem began. This repetition stresses a second sense of dicha not
necessarily evident in the first iteration—that is, dicha as the past
participle of decir, as well as the primary meaning of happiness or
good fortune. The sense of repetition, performed by the poem itself,
underscores the fact that the sabor de vos is not a sign of mystical
cannibalism, the incorporation of the vos into the yo, but a linguistic
effect, the reiteration of a memory that has been uttered before.
7KHˋJXUHRIWKHWXUQLQJSODQHWȤSODQHWDGXOFHFDORUTXHJLUD
DOUHGHGRUȥHPSKDVL]HVWKHG\QDPLFRIWXUQVDQGUHWXUQVDPRYHPHQW
that keeps the yo and the vos turning around and toward the other. The
SODQHWDU\ZDUPWKWKDWȤJLUDDOUHGHGRUȥVXJJHVWVDQRQJRLQJVHQVHRI
life that keeps turning even after loss and separation, through the turns
DQGUHWXUQVRIPRXUQLQJ7KHˋJXUHRIWKHWXUQLQJZRUOGLVHFKRHGLQ
other poems, as well. In one poem the poet describes his memories as
ȤPRYHPHQWVOLNHZRUOGUHYROYLQJWR\RXȥmovimientos como mundos //
girando a vos/, Comentario;;9,,,DQRWKHUDVNVȤZKDWLVWKLVERG\RI
\RXWKDWUHYROYHVOLNHDIRUHLJQVWDUWRP\HIIRUWVRI\RXȥqué es este
// cuerpo de vos que gira como astro/ extranjero // a mis esfuerzos de vos/,
Comentario ;,,,7KHVHRUELWLQJERGLHVWXUQWRZDUGDQGDZD\IURPRQH
another, like the dizzying turns, inversions and con-versions between
the yo and the vos in “Comentario;;,9ȥ$WWKHHQGRIWKLVSRHPWKH
turnings toward and from, indicated by an alternation between the
prepositions en and deDUHSXQFWXDWHGE\WKHDV\QGHWRQLFȤ\RYRVȥ
This does not indicate, as critics have claimed, the achievement of
synthesis between the two.,WLVQRWDQDUULYDODWWKHLGHDOL]HGȤXVȥRI
WKHˋUVWVWDQ]DVȤquisiera vernos en vosȥȤque lleguemos a serȥEXWDQ
amalgamation, a being together that maintains difference rather than
erasing it. It is a comparison, introduced by the preposition como, that,
like the amalgamated másvida, suggests the idea that life is always more
than individual biological life, involving a turning toward and around
WKDWQHYHUHQGVLQDVWDWLFDQGVHDPOHVVˋJXUHRIXQLRQ
Messianicity beyond Militant Messianism 35
Q Q Q
-XDQ-RV«6DHUȢVVKRUWVWRU\Ȥ&DUWDDODYLGHQWHȥLVVWUXFWXUHGDVDQ
HSLVWRODU\SDUDEOHLQZKLFKDP\RSHZULWHVDOHWWHUWRDȤVHHUȥ7KHVWRU\
mimics Rimbaud’s famous letters to Paul Demeny and Georges Izambard,
in which he describes the Poet as a privileged Seer, which in Spanish
DUHNQRZQDVWKHȤFDUWDVGHOYLGHQWHȥ1 The narrator of Saer’s story
describes the act of seeing in traditional metaphysical terms, as a seizure
of meaning from appearance, a vertical feat of illumination that is like
the strike of a lightning bolt: “ver . . . no consiste en contemplar, inerte,
el paso incansable de la apariencia, sino en asir, de esa apariencia, un
VHQWLGR(QXQDSDODEUDHOWUDEDMRYHUWLFDOFRPRHOGHOUD\RGHOLOXPL-
QDGRȥȤVHHLQJGRHVQRWFRQVLVWLQLGO\FRQWHPSODWLQJWKHWLUHOHVV
passing of appearance, but in seizing from that appearance a meaning.
In a word, [it is] a vertical labor, like that of a lightning bolt, or of an
LOOXPLQDWHȥLa mayor ȟ+HH[SODLQVWKDWKHKLPVHOILVLQFDSDEOH
of such lightning-strike comprehension, and that he is condemned to
grope his way through the world’s dense materiality, which, like him,
LVLQVHPLGDUNQHVVDQGSUHVHQWVLWVHOIRQO\DVȤPDQFKRQHVIXJDFHV
IXJLWLYRVLQWHUPLWHQWHVFX\RVERUGHVHVW£QFRPLGRVSRUODRVFXULGDGȥ
ȤˌHHWLQJEORWFKHVIXJLWLYHLQWHUPLWWHQWZKRVHHGJHVDUHHDWHQE\
GDUNQHVVȥLa mayor ,QWKLVWDVNKLVKDQGDFWVDVKLVȤPXVHȥ
Ȥ0LPXVDSRUOODPDUODDV¯HVVLVHTXLHUHPDQXDOȥȤODPDQRHQ
HVDSHQXPEUDVHPXHYHHTX¯YRFDFHUU£QGRVHDEUL«QGRVHPRVWUDQGR
DELHUWDOLVDTXHQRKDDIHUUDGRQDGDȥȤ0\PXVHWRFDOOLWWKXVLVVKDOO
ZHVD\DPDQXDORQHȥȤP\KDQGPRYHVLQWKDWSHQXPEUDXQFHUWDLQ
closing, opening, showing itself open and smooth, that it hasn’t grasped
DQ\WKLQJȥ La mayor
37
38 Witnessing beyond the Human
DQG\HWFXULRXVO\SRZHUIXOKRSHLQWLPHVWKDWZHUHLQGHHGGDUN
9HUWLFDO=HXVOLNHVHL]XUHRIPHDQLQJLVDQLGHDOWKDWLVQRWUHVWULFWHG
to poets and seers such as Rimbaud or the addressee of Saer’s story.
It is a metaphysical ideal that motivates much of Western history,
and which has had nefarious consequences when translated into the
political sphere. Vision has long been associated with control, the ocular
ȤVHL]XUH RI PHDQLQJȥ EHFRPLQJ D PHWDSKRU IRU QXPHURXV NLQGV RI
appropriation and domination. While literature and culture undoubtedly
SDUWLFLSDWHLQVXFKȤ(QOLJKWHQHGȥGLVFLSOLQLQJRIWKHSURSHUWKHNLQGRI
myopic exploration that Saer’s narrator describes points to a different
understanding of literature, one that has the potential to disrupt
any pretensions to totality. Throughout the dictatorship, tentative
explorations of many kinds accompanied more militant challenges to
totalitarianism, producing among other things a vast body of literary
and artistic work, by writers and artists both in and out of exile,
which explored different conceptions of life, death, community, and
MXVWLFHWKDQWKRVHLPSRVHGE\WKHPLOLWDU\JRYHUQPHQW(YHQDIWHUWKH
dictatorship, such explorations remained critical, not only in relation
to the legacy of the dictatorship, which left deep scars on the national
psyche, but also in relation to globalized neoliberal politics and the
social exclusions they continue to produce.
Sergio Chejfec is without question one of the most important
writers to emerge in Argentina since the end of the dictatorship.
Chronologically, he is identified as a writer of the post-dictatorship
SHULRGDOWKRXJKKLVZULWLQJVDUHLQIXVHGZLWKDVHQVHRIEHLQJȤSRVWȥ
other things, as well: his characters wander among ruins of national
myths, half-abandoned industrial landscapes, and memories of both
immigration and exile. His works reveal a strong influence from Saer,
especially at the stylistic level of meandering sentence structure and
dream-like descriptions, but also in their uncertain, myopic grasping
DWȤPDQFKRQHVIXJDFHVIXJLWLYRVLQWHUPLWHQWHVFX\RVERUGHVHVW£Q
FRPLGRVSRUODRVFXULGDGȥȠWKDWLVZKDW6DHURQFHPHPRUDEO\FDOOHG
ȤODVHOYDHVSHVDGHORUHDOȥȤWKHGHQVHMXQJOHRIWKHUHDOȥ&KHMIHF
re-situates this myopic exploration at the turn of the millennium,
and draws out some of the ethical and political consequences that
Saer’s fictions alluded to only obliquely. His novels are concerned
with interrupting the smooth surfaces of the present and revealing
things that have no place in it because they have disappeared either
WHPSRUDOO\RUVSDWLDOO\LQFOXGLQJWKH'LUW\:DUȢVȤGLVDSSHDUHGȥDQG
40 Witnessing beyond the Human
other scars from the nation’s past, and also elements that are not seen
or acknowledged in the nation’s present, such as ethnic differences,
the distant provinces, and the poor and working classes. He delves
into the murky depths of time and space—what he calls the “most
H[WHQVLYHRIWKHLQYLVLEOHFRXQWULHVȥLos planetasȠWRVHDUFKIRUD
sense of community or temporal and spatial co-existence that differs
from the nation’s strict boundaries and presentist sense of identity.
Chejfec reaches beneath the surfaces of the present, but, like the
myope in Saer’s story, he does not grasp anything among the shadows.
His protagonists do not attempt to bring what is absent into the present,
or what is marginal into the center. For them, it is not a matter of
bringing being and memory out of the shadows into the light, but, in a
NLQGRIȤP\RSLFZLWQHVVLQJȥRIDFNQRZOHGJLQJWKHLUVKDGRZ\QDWXUH
which disturbs the oppositions between light and dark, presence and
absence, center and margin. They repeatedly encounter intermittence, or
temporal-spatial interruptions, in the apparent continuity and coherence
of the narratives in which they are embedded. Such interruptions are
sites where other possible narratives can emerge, the most important of
which concern new formations of community or relationality. Relating
to others is always a tenuous possibility in Chejfec’s novels, and a
sense of community that would be based on such delicate, intermittent
relations, rather than the relatively homogeneous and continuous
relationality presumed by narratives of nationality, is only a distant
hope. Nevertheless, it is this hope that forms the ethical horizon of
&KHMIHFȢVZULWLQJWRXFKLQJRQWKHˋJXUHVRIPHPRU\KLVWRU\YLROHQFH
and ethnic, cultural, and class differences.
Language is a place where both visual seizure and myopic encounter
with intermittence can occur, as Saer’s parable suggests. In Los planetas
MRXUQDOLVPLVFLWHGDVDIRUPRIODQJXDJHWKDWLVLQWHQGHGWRJUDVS
a black and white truth out of the shadows of experience. A newspaper
article can inform us of an event, but it does so by cynically enclosing
WLPHDQGWKHUHE\ERUGHUVRQHYLOȤHOPDOȥ$IWHUDQH[SORVLRQVFDWWHUV
ERG\SDUWVRIGLVDSSHDUHGSULVRQHUVDURXQGDˋHOGLQWKHFRXQWU\VLGHWKH
narrator reads an article describing the occurrence, and considers how
la vida proliferaba en hechos mientras las letras del diario ya eran algo
detenido, que a su vez hablaba de un pasado a primera vista fatal, una
FRVDVREUHODTXHQRFDE¯DDEULJDUHVSHUDQ]DVHWF«WHUD0LHQWUDVODYLGD
DXQDGDFRQHOWLHPSRLEDKDFLDDGHODQWH\VHPXOWLSOLFDEDHQVXVLQˋQLWDV
Myopic Witnessing and the Intermittent Possibilities 41
UDPLˋFDFLRQHV\SRVLELOLGDGHVODVQRWLFLDVTXHFDQFHODEDQHOSDVDGR\
QRVGHMDEDQVLQHVSHUDQ]DVHUDQFRPRODPXHFDF¯QLFDGHORSRUYHQLU
life proliferated in acts while the letters in the newspaper were already
VRPHWKLQJIUR]HQZKLFKVSRNHDWRQFHRIDSDVWWKDWZDVDWˋUVWJODQFH
fatal, something for which there was nothing left to hope, etcetera.
:KLOHOLIHFRQQHFWHGWRWLPHZHQWIRUZDUGDQGPXOWLSOLHGLQWRLQˋQLWH
UDPLˋFDWLRQVDQGSRVVLELOLWLHVWKHQHZVWKDWFDQFHOHGWKHSDVWDQGOHIW
us without hope was like a cynical grimace of the future.
+HUHˌHFWVKRZMRXUQDOLVPFORVHVLWVHOIRIIIURPWKHWHPSRUDOLW\RI
OLIHȤODYLGDDXQDGDFRQHOWLHPSRȥDQGWKHUHIRUHDOVRIURPKRSH
As such, it aligns itself with evil, which structurally prefers closure:
“como sabemos que el bien puede no terminar nunca, acaso en el
interior del mal . . . se torne imperiosa la necesidad de acabar las
KLVWRULDVȥȤVLQFHZHNQRZWKDWWKHJRRGFDQQHYHUHQGSHUKDSVLQWKH
LQWHULRURIHYLOLWEHFRPHVQHFHVVDU\WRFRQFOXGHVWRULHVȥȟ
7KH ȤJRRGȥ el bien LV OLNH WHPSRUDO OLIH PXOWLSO\LQJ LQWR LQILQLWH
ramifications and possibilities, even when it concerns a terrible
HYHQWVXFKDVPXUGHURUGLVDSSHDUDQFHȤ(YLOȥel malRSSRVHVVXFK
openness, closing off possibility both through policies that privilege
social order and national unity over freedom and justice, and also, on
a smaller scale, through representational schemes that present such
endings as incontrovertible fact.
But while language can be used to seize meaning or order, it can also be
used to explore the murky waters of temporal life. Los planetas concerns
the narrator’s memories of his childhood friend, who was disappeared
by the military regime for no evident reason. Writing plays an important
role in his coming to terms with his friend’s disappearance. He notes that
his friend, to whom he refers with the initial M—which he says could
refer to Miguel, or Mauricio, or even Daniel, since “behind letters there
FDQEHDQ\QDPHȥȠZDVVXSSRVHGWREHDZULWHUUDWKHUWKDQKLP
Although he is deeply troubled by this fact, he acknowledges that it is
precisely the memory of his friend that makes it possible for him to write.
He says that if anything is worth saying in Spanish, it is dictated by M’s
memory: “si hay algo en mi idioma—el idioma particular—algo plausible
GHVHUGLFKR>HVW£HQDOJ¼QPRGRGLFWDGR@SRUODPHPRULDGH08QD
ˋGHOLGDGDVXUHFXHUGRPHOOHYDDHVFULELUȥȤLIWKHUHLVVRPHWKLQJLQP\
language—this particular language—something plausible to be said . . .
42 Witnessing beyond the Human
>LWLVLQVRPHZD\GLFWDWHG@E\0ȢVPHPRU\$ˋGHOLW\WRKLVPHPRU\
OHDGVPHWRZULWHȥ+HLQLWLDOO\WKRXJKWWKDWWKLVPHDQWDEDQGRQLQJ
KLPVHOIWRDSODFHRILQGLYLGXDOPHDQLQJȠȤDOJXQDVYHFHVSHQV«TXHFRQ
esta tarea me abandono . . . a un estado impreciso donde se confunden
ORVVHQWLGRVLQGLYLGXDOHV\ODVQRFLRQHVGHULYDGDVGHHOORVȥȤ,WKRXJKW
at times that this task required me to abandon myself to . . . an imprecise
state in which individual meanings and notions derived from them
PLQJOHȥȠEXWKHVRRQUHDOL]HGWKDWLQGLYLGXDOLW\LVQHYHUWUXO\GLVFUHWH
or homogeneous. His friendship with M showed him that
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UHFRQRFHUHVWDVLQWHUPLWHQFLDVDWUDY«VGHODVFXDOHVQXHVWUDLGHQWLGDG
aparece . . . Con M alcanzamos la solidaridad, un lazo efectivo dentro
del cual nuestra intermitencia lograba desenvolverse . . . con visos de
FRPSHQHWUDFLµQ
+HDGGVWKDWȤWDPEL«QHVFLHUWRTXHLJQRUDPRVcuándoVRPRVHVWR
lo advierten los otros, quienes nos rodean, en cierto momento al ver
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ZHDUHWKLVLVVRPHWKLQJWKDWRWKHUVSHUFHLYHWKRVHZKRVXUURXQGXV
DWDFHUWDLQPRPHQWZKHQWKH\VHHRXUVLJQVDSSHDUȥ+HFRPSDUHV
LQGLYLGXDOVWRVWDUVZKRVHˌLFNHULQJOLJKWLQGLFDWHVWKHIDFWWKDWWKH\
DUHDOLYHȤORVODWLGRVGHVXVHUȥ
Far from being limited to interiority and individual meaning, writing
is a space where we can explore the limits of ourselves and our rela-
tionships with others, which are themselves compared to a kind of
ZULWLQJ'XULQJKLVOLIHWLPH0WDXJKWWKHQDUUDWRUWRȤUHDGȥDVDNLQG
of myopic witnessing, the traces of other beings on our lives, and to
understand the way they interrupt our presumed self-presence, not
MXVWLQWKHVSDWLRWHPSRUDOSUHVHQWEXWIURPRWKHUWHPSRUDOLWLHVDQG
SHUKDSVIURPWLPHȢVLQˋQLWHSRVVLELOLWLHVDVZHOO7KHVHWUDFHVRUVLJQV
señalesDSSHDUWHQXRXVO\OLNHVWDUOLJKWWKURXJKVSDFLQJVWKDWKHFDOOV
intermittences, breaks in a uniform and continuous sense of time and
Myopic Witnessing and the Intermittent Possibilities 43
VSDFH7KHZRUGȤLQWHUPLWWHQFHȥFRPHVIURPWKH/DWLQYHUEmittere, to
send or let go, and in this sense, it seems particularly suited for talking
DERXWWKHˌLFNHULQJOLJKWRIVWDUVZKLFKVHQGWKHLUOLJKWRXWLQWRWKH
darkness, until it is received as intermittent glimmer, millions of miles
DZD\,QWHUPLWWHQFHLVDȤVHQGLQJEHWZHHQȥZKLFKPHDQVWKDWWKH
missive has a potentially interruptive effect, capable of inserting itself
into something—although as the astral metaphor would suggest, it is a
fairly feeble possibility. This metaphor, along with the planetary meta-
phor implied by the novel’s title, imagines individuals as monads, who
PD\RUPD\QRWEHDEOHWRUHFHLYHWKHˌLFNHULQJVLJQVRIRWKHUIRUPVRI
life.7 Part of this reception involves a process of recognizing the traces
RUȤHVWHODVȥWKDWRWKHUVOHDYHRQXV:HFDQQRWVWULFWO\NQRZWKHVH
others, especially since they can come from other times as well as our
own. Both distant stars and intimate friends leave such traces on us:
even though the narrator and M were close friends and ostensibly knew
much about one another, there is still something not entirely knowable
DERXWKRZ0DIIHFWVWKHQDUUDWRU(ULQ*UDII=LYLQJRHVVRIDUDVWR
suggest that the initial M, which can stand for so many different things,
PD\DOVRVLJQLI\ȤPDUNȥVLQFHWKHIDFWWKDWKHKDVPDUNHGWKHQDUUDWRU
LVWKHSULPDU\WKLQJZHFDQNQRZDERXWKLPȤ(OOHQJXDMHVHFXHVWUDGR
HVW«WLFD«WLFD\SRO¯WLFDHQLos planetasȥ7KHLGHDRI0ȢVWUDFHV
on the narrator is especially poignant, since M was disappeared, and all
that remains of him are the effects he has made on others, but M was
aware of such interstellar marks even when he was alive.
Such a process of blind writing and reading recalls Saer’s myope,
ZKRLVȤVHQGLQJȥDPHVVDJHRIQRWNQRZLQJWRVRPHRQHZKRLVVXUH
of her own powers of perception. But more than the myope’s letter,
which is an intentional missive, such intermittent interrelatedness
resembles language itself, which operates on a level that exceeds will
and control. Language is characterized by a constant inter-sending:
words are always related to other words, and meaning, far from being
capable of being seized intact, is both deferred and interrupted by
linguistic relationality. This is why Chejfec’s narrator can say that
ZULWLQJLVȤHORUGHQTXHPHMRUDVXPHHOHUURUȥLWVȤRUGHUȥDOORZVDQ
LQILQLW\RIUHODWLRQVWRZDQGHUWKURXJKLWLos planetas :KLOH
some kinds of writing, like journalism, seek to detain this wandering,
other kinds of writing embrace and even intensify it. Chejfec’s
narrator sees in the errancy of writing a way to honor his friend’s
influence on him, as well as the lesson he learned from M that we are
44 Witnessing beyond the Human
7KHȤRUELWVȥRIWKHLUIULHQGVKLSDUHLQˌXHQFHGE\RWKHUIRUFHVZKLFK
through a double entendre, carry out the astronomical metaphor and
DOVRORFDWHWKHRUELWVLQWKHVSDFHRIWKHFLW\ZKHUHȤHPSXMHVȥOLWHUDOO\
ȤSXVKHVȥRUȤVKRYHVȥDQGȤPDVDVȥDIIHFWWKHLUGDLO\SHUDPEXODWLRQV
bringing them into constant contact with others.12 These planetary
forces affect one another as well as the space through which they
circulate. M ref lects that “Todo lo que se mueve . . . todo aquello
TXHSLHUGHRJDQDFDORUGHMDVXKXHOODLPERUUDEOHȥȤ(YHU\WKLQJWKDW
moves . . . everything that loses or gains heat, leaves its indelible
SULQWȥ 7KH HYHQW WKDW DIIHFWV WKH VXUIDFH WKDW GLVUXSWV WKH
spatialized present, is an event of encounter and being-together that
exceeds any notion of homogeneous commonality, such as those
defended beneath the banners of opposing ideologies or different forms
of nationalism. While such forms of commonality are described as
ˌRDWLQJDORQJRQWKHVXUIDFHRIWKHRFHDQXQHQFXPEHUHGE\REVWDFOHV
ȤIORWDUVLQSUHRFXSDFLRQHVSRUODYHUGDGȥWKHLQWHUSODQHWDU\
life that M and the narrator perceive in their explorations of Buenos
$LUHV LV HQGOHVVO\ LQWHUUXSWHG HLWKHU E\ RWKHU ȤSODQHWVȥ RU E\ WKH
space through which they move.
6XFKLQWHUFRQQHFWHGRUELWVFRQWUDVWVLJQLˋFDQWO\ZLWKWKHVWDELOLW\
DQGKRPRJHQHLW\SUHVXPHGE\WKHˋJXUHRIWKHQDWLRQ8UEDQVSDFH
creates its own kinds of ever-shifting communities and connections.
Two anecdotes describe similar spaces of orbits and interactions, at two
GLVWLQFWPDUJLQVRI$UJHQWLQHVRFLHW\7KHˋUVWFRQFHUQVWKH-HZLVK
community in Buenos Aires, to which M and the narrator belong, even
if not as active practitioners. The boys ponder the question of whether
2UWKRGR[-HZVDUHPRUHȤJHQXLQHDQGDXWKHQWLFȥWKDQRWKHUVȠZKHWKHU
48 Witnessing beyond the Human
XQOLNHRWKHUIRUPVRILGHQWLW\WKHLUULWXDOVFRQˋUPFRQWLQXLW\EHORQJLQJ
WUXWKȟ7KH\FRQFOXGHKRZHYHUWKDWWKLVLVQRWWKHFDVHDQGWKH\
VHHLQ-HZLVKȤLGHQWLW\ȥȠHYHQLQUHOLJLRXVULWXDOȠDFRQˋUPDWLRQRIWKH
idea that “el ser, la identidad, la verdad se muestran y prevalecen con
LQWHUPLWHQFLDMDP£VVRQSHUPDQHQWHVQLFRQVWDQWHVȥȤEHLQJLGHQWLW\
truth reveal themselves and prevail through intermittence, they are
QHYHUSHUPDQHQWRUFRQVWDQWȥ7KH\VHHHYLGHQFHRIWKLVLQWKH
synagogues, where bowing old men perform an “intermittent retreat
EHIRUHWKHP\VWHU\ȥDQGXQULWXDOL]HGVRFLDOL]LQJUHYHDOVQRWRUJDQLF
continuity and absolute belonging, but a shared experience of existing
LQDȤWLPHRIGLVVROXWLRQȥ1HYHUWKHOHVVVRPHWKLQJFRQQHFWVWKHPWR
other Jews, something that the boys understand as a “traza imaginaria
entre sus cuerpos y los nuestros . . . como si todos, ellos y nosotros,
IX«UDPRVˋJXUDVHQWLGDGHVPXWXDPHQWHQHFHVDULDVSDUDGLEXMDUOD
FRQVWHODFLµQȥȤLPDJLQDU\WUDFHEHWZHHQWKHLUERGLHVDQGRXUVDV
LIHYHU\RQHWKHPDQGXVZHUHˋJXUHVHQWLWLHVPXWXDOO\QHFHVVDU\WR
GUDZDFRQVWHOODWLRQȥ
Community as constellation or mutually inscribing planetary orbits
FRQWUDVWVVLJQLˋFDQWO\ZLWKWKHˋJXUHRIWKHQDWLRQDVLWDSSHDUVLQDQ
anecdote that concerns a couple from the northern province of Formosa.
This couple, inspired by travel magazines that present Argentina
as a glistening and exotic place, decides to leave home and explore
their country. Without any particular aim, they head north, and are
disillusioned to see that the landscape and the people stay very much the
same, even as they pass, without noticing, into Paraguay. However, when
they turn around to try another direction, they are stopped at the border
and detained as illegal Paraguayan immigrants. There, at the desert
IULQJHVRIWKHLUZRUOGȤORTXHEDXWL]DEDDOKRUL]RQWHHUDHO(VWDGRȥ
ȤWKH6WDWHLVZKDWEDSWL]HVWKHKRUL]RQȥ(YHU\WKLQJORRNVH[DFWO\
the same, but the State regulates the sameness, distinguishing proper
from improper, that which belongs from that which does not. National
belonging is connected to property, and since the couple are poor and
own nothing in Formosa, they cannot prove their provenance. They
eventually make it back into Argentina, albeit with immigrant papers.
M and the narrator myopically read the traces of one another
and others against the background of historical currents such as
Peronism and anti-Peronism, the endlessly intersecting orbits of life
in Buenos Aires, constellations created by associations such as being
Jewish, and social exclusions that orbit beneath and around their
Myopic Witnessing and the Intermittent Possibilities 49
ȠWKHQRYHOHQGVZLWKRXWHQGLQJLQGLFDWLQJWKDWLWKDVRQO\EHHQ
one leg in a journey, one attempt to create a space in which to read the
marks of the absent and the invisible on the shifting expanses of the
SUHVHQW$VVXFKLWLVQHFHVVDULO\ȤXQDKLVWRULDTXHQRKDWHUPLQDGRȥ
ȤDKLVWRU\WKDWKDVQRWHQGHGȥDQGLWPXVWWKHUHIRUHORRNWRWKH
IXWXUHWRȤODYLGDDXQDGDFRQHOWLHPSRȥDQGWKHSURPLVHȠDOEHLWD
mournful one—that such a sense of life implies.
Q Q Q
I have always been troubled by the idea that geography doesn’t change in
spite of time, in spite of our changes and the changes they produce in it.
We retain something immaterial, just like geography, which also retains
something immaterial. Nevertheless, even though it doesn’t change,
geography is the measure of change. It is just like what occurs with body
temperature: bodies maintain a trace of previous heat . . . Bodies are and
WKH\ȢUHQRWWKH\DUHPRUHDQGOHVVDWWKHVDPHWLPH:LWKJHRJUDSK\
something similar happens, I mean, it’s indocile.
52 Witnessing beyond the Human
he came to the industrial margins of this city to fall in love with Delia.
He is middle aged and comes from the middle class, which is implied
from his lack of familiarity with the kinds of hardships that Delia and
her peers are forced to endure. He is identified as a reader of novels,
and repeatedly compares his own experiences to books he has read
ȤKHOH¯GRQRYHODVTXHKD\QRYHODVTXHȥ7KHUHFXUULQJ
JHVWXUHWRILFWLRQUHFDOOVD%RUJHVLDQDQG&HUYDQWLQHFRPPRQSODFH
whereby a character ventures into an unknown territory, often within
the same city, and imagines that he understands that world, when
what he thinks he sees is shaped and conditioned by the books he has
read. Nevertheless, the narrator of Boca de lobo cites the novels he has
read not as figures of authority but with a sense of contrast between
how those novels manage to present a narrative coherence that he is
unable to perceive in the world around him.
The source of this incoherence is Delia and the proletarian life she
embodies. The fact that she works at a factory fascinates and disturbs
him, and this reaction is exacerbated by her young age. He sees in
her and the other workers evidence of an enormous debt, “la deuda
LQˋQLWDDFXPXODGDSRUODKXPDQLGDGȥȤWKHLQˋQLWHGHEWDFFXPXODWHGE\
KXPDQLW\ȥ+HZDVDZDUHRIWKLVGHEWEHIRUHKHPHWKHUDWWHQWLYHWR
WKHQHDUO\LQYLVLEOHPDUNVRIWKLVGHEWLQZKDWKHFDOOVWKHȤSDUDGR[HVȥ
of property: “toda la gente que no es obrera advierte esto, percibe, como
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FRVDVTXHSRVHHRXWLOL]DȥȤHYHU\RQHZKRLVQRWDZRUNHUQRWLFHVWKLV
perceives, like an anonymous sign and like a warning, the proletarian
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RIIDEOHseñal, advertenciaWKDWXQVHWWOHVWKHQDUUDWRUȢVSULYLOHJHG
life, and he determines to try to understand it and its origins in the
underprivileged world of this industrial district. He discovers the
tyranny of the factory, which he describes as the very heart of power and
DȤZROIȢVPRXWKȥWKDWGHYRXUVWKHZRUNHUVLQWRDOLIHRIPHDQLQJOHVV
UHSHWLWLRQDQGVHOIVDFULˋFHȤDOO¯HVWDEDODYHUGDG\QRPHUHˋHURVµORD
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Delia fascinates him because she has not yet been entirely swallowed
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XPEUDOHV(VWULERVGHFROHFWLYRVSRUWRQHVGHI£EULFDVODMDVGHMDUGLQHV
FHUFDVGHWHUUHQRVXPEUDOHVGHFDVDVERUGHVGHFDPLQRVȥȤFURVVLQJ
thresholds. Bus steps, factory gates, garden stepping stones, plot fences,
WKUHVKROGVRIKRXVHVHGJHVRIURDGVȥ6KHOLYHVRQWKHOLPLWVRIWKH
54 Witnessing beyond the Human
city, and treads the limits of inside and out in a number of ways. She
is in between childhood and adulthood, school and factory life, her
parents’ supervision and adult sexual involvements, and still displays a
curiosity and zest for life that is lacking in some of her older friends. She
becomes the narrator’s lover, but she retains a reticence toward him, a
reticence that manifests itself as a spatio-temporal disruption or delay,
not unlike the astral intermittence described in Los planetas: “estaba
DTX¯SRUHMHPSORSHURGDEDODLPSUHVLµQGHGHPRUDUVHPXFKRDQWHV
de terminar de llegar . . . Se situaba en algo previo o posterior, nunca
HQHVHSUHFLVRPRPHQWRȤ6KHZDVKHUHIRUH[DPSOHEXWVKHJDYHWKH
impression of slowing down before actually arriving . . . She was situated
LQVRPHWKLQJSUHYLRXVRUSRVWHULRUQHYHULQWKDWVDPHPRPHQWȥȟ
She is a kind of absent presence to him, and this quality seeps into her
ODQJXDJHDVZHOOKHUVLOHQFHVȤVSHDNȥDQGKHUZRUGVH[KLELWDNLQGRI
GHOD\RUȤȡDSHQDVȢFURQROµJLFRȥȤFKURQRORJLFDOȡEDUHO\Ȣȥ
Delia represents for the narrator the liminal and potentially
transformative situation of the proletariat. She and her peers live
forgotten and invisible lives, oppressed by the power of the factory and
the compulsion to produce for the rest of society. Nevertheless, their
silences speak in the almost imperceptible marks they leave on the
objects they produce, and in the peripheral, ruinous world they inhabit.
These marks, described variously as traces, fossils, gestures, shadows,
RUQHJDWLYHVLQGLFDWHDQLQWHUPLWWHQWRUVSHFWUDO
presence that criss-crosses our world like so many erratic planets, muted
UHPLQGHUVRIRXUȤLQˋQLWHGHEWȥWRWKHIRUJRWWHQHOHPHQWVRIVRFLHW\
Occupying the margins of modernization, the proletariat lead a liminal
existence, not just in the sense of being displaced from the center of
things, but also in the sense that “al estar sobre el umbral, los hechos
VXHOHQVHULQDFDEDGRVȥȤRQDWKUHVKROGWKLQJVWHQGWREHXQˋQLVKHGȥ
6LQFHWKH\DUHPDUJLQDOL]HGQRWH[FOXGHGDVIRUH[DPSOHWKHFRXSOH
from Formosa in Los planetasLVVRFLHW\GHSHQGVRQWKHPDQGDVORQJ
DVWKLVLVVRWKHVWUXFWXUHRISRZHULVQRWGHˋQLWLYHȠLWLVȤXQˋQLVKHGȥ
Downtrodden though they may seem, they are the indocility of history,
indicating with their very lives a tenuous possibility of change. This is
DWOHDVWSDUWRIZKDWWKHQDUUDWRUVHHPVWRFRXUWWKURXJKWKHˋJXUHRI
Delia: the hope of a proletarian revolution, the possibility—however
distant—of radical social change.
The narrator’s character is not heroic or appealing in any way.
+LV VRPHZKDW SDWKHWLF ILJXUH PLGGOH DJHG ODFNDGDLVLFDO LQ ORYH
Myopic Witnessing and the Intermittent Possibilities 55
ZLWK D ZRPDQ KH LGHDOL]HV PLJKW VHHP WR VXJJHVW WKDW WKH KRSH
for a socialist revolution is an outdated, romantic ideal. Indeed, his
character could be read as a rebuke to a particular kind of midcentury
revolutionary attitude, in which the pursuit of social equality was
accompanied by a machismo that mimicked the power it set out to
critique. However, while the narrator’s shortcomings may reflect the
confusion of political legacies and the lack of a ready-made model for
political action in contemporary Latin America, they do not negate
the relevance of a search for social change, which is as pressing today
as it ever was. The narrator’s search involves an awareness of class,
but it does not invoke a classical Marxist call for a class uprising,
which may indeed be a distant ideal in this peripheral post-modernity.
His attention to traces and spatio-temporal interruptions of excluded
and forgotten elements of society is an important response to the
question of whether change can occur: whether we are stuck in the
ȤFRXQWU\RIWKHSUHVHQWȥRUZKHWKHUWKDWȤFRXQWU\ȥLVYXOQHUDEOHWR
the different times and forces that live within it. Such a response bears
resemblance to a number of different theories of change, including
moments in Marx’s own writings. Jacques Rancière’s re-readings of
Marx emphasize the proletariat as a marker of exclusion, rather than
as a hegemonically formed identity group:
The proletariat are neither manual workers nor the labor classes. They are
the class of the uncounted that only exists in the very declaration in which
WKH\DUHFRXQWHGDVWKRVHRIQRDFFRXQW7KHQDPHSUROHWDULDQGHˋQHV
QHLWKHUDVHWRISURSHUWLHVPDQXDOODERULQGXVWULDOODERUGHVWLWXWLRQ
HWFWKDWZRXOGEHVKDUHGHTXDOO\E\DPXOWLWXGHRILQGLYLGXDOVQRUD
FROOHFWLYHERG\,WLVSDUWRIDSURFHVVRIVXEMHFWLˋFDWLRQLGHQWLFDOWRWKH
SURFHVVRIH[SRXQGLQJDZURQJ:KDWLVVXEMHFWLˋHGLVQHLWKHUZRUN
QRUGHVWLWXWLRQEXWWKHVLPSOHFRXQWLQJRIWKHXQFRXQWHGDisagreement:
Politics and Philosophy
WLHPSRDWU£VKHSHQVDGRTXHSUHFLVDPHQWHODVPDUFDVGHODJHQWHDQµQLPD
sobre el mundo, incluidas las hechas sobre papel, tienen como objeto
enfrentarse a la letra escrita, en primer lugar a las novelas. No es un
FRPEDWHDELHUWRQRHVTXHDOJXQDVQLHJDQDTXHOORTXHODVRWUDVDˋUPDQ
HVXQFRPEDWHVHFUHWR\PXWXDPHQWHLJQRUDGR
I have thought for some time that the purpose of the marks of anonymous
people on the world, including those made on paper, is precisely to
confront written language, especially novels. It is not an open combat,
DQGLWLVQRWWKDWRQHDIˋUPVZKDWWKHRWKHUGHQLHVLWLVDVHFUHWFRPEDW
and one that is mutually ignored.
+HDGGVWKDWZLWKRXWWKHVHPDUNVȤWKHZRUOGZRXOGEHLQWROHUDEOHȥ
which suggests that his interest in them is not merely literary. He
H[SODLQVWKDWWKLVLQYLVLEOHFRPEDWLVKLGGHQEHKLQGIDEOHVZKLFK
as we have seen is a form that for Chejfec names the need to insist on
the possibility of change in the world. The repeated references to
novels throughout this novel are not intended to dismiss literature,
but rather to question its relevance to the world, bringing it more
directly to an encounter with the anonymous inscriptions that mark
our world. Literature that bears these marks of exclusion, that seeks
them out myopically, provides a place for political inscription to occur,
DQGȤSROLWLFVȥȠLQWKHVHQVHRIDGLVUXSWLRQRIQDUUDWLYHȠWREHJLQ
Myopic Witnessing and the Intermittent Possibilities 57
However, one day the narrator loses faith in such a notion of politics,
and the uncertainty or myopia that it requires. This change of heart
occurs after he watches two young proletarian boys collecting discarded
REMHFWVLQDQHPSW\ORWMXVWDVKHFROOHFWVWUDFHVRIH[FOXVLRQȟ
He realizes that the boys are on the threshold of a life of bitter hardship,
and collecting detritus in the weedy expanses of the city’s margins is
not going to change that fact. He imagines them caught in a spatial and
WHPSRUDOȤERFDGHORERȥLQZKLFKQRWKLQJHYHUFKDQJHVUHIOHFWHGLQ
WKHGHVRODWHODQGVFDSHDQGH[SDQGHGLQˋQLWHO\E\WKHQLJKW7KHLGHD
RFFXUVWRKLPWKDWWKLVȤERFDGHORERȥLVUHSHDWHGLQVLGHRI'HOLDȤHQHO
LQWHULRUGH'HOLDȥ+HUHHOVDWWKLVWKRXJKWDVLIIDFHGZLWKDGL]]\LQJ
abyss, and yearns for salvation, which he violently seeks by raping her
+HUOLPLQDOQDWXUHDQGWKHSRVVLELOLW\RIFKDQJHLWVHHPHGWR
SURPLVHVXGGHQO\DSSHDULQVXIˋFLHQWWRKLP+HUHMHFWVKLVSUDFWLFHRI
myopic sifting through traces of exclusion for a vertical lightning-bolt
seizure, to invoke Saer’s story again. The rape represents an annihilating
attempt to conquer Delia and yank the promise she represents into the
SUHVHQWLQWKHIRUPRIDFKLOGȤ1RHUDXQGHVHRGHSRVHVLµQVLQRP£V
que eso: una urgencia por alcanzar la conquista arrollando, destruyendo,
aniquilando. Sentí que Delia tenía algo que ya me pertenecía, y que si no
ORDUUDQFDEDDFRPRGLHUDOXJDUQXQFDORKDEU¯DGHREWHQHUȥȤ,WZDVQȢWD
desire to possess, it was more than that: an urgency to reach a conquest,
crushing, destroying, annihilating. I felt that Delia had something that
already belonged to me, and that if I didn’t start to bring it about, I would
QHYHUJHWLWȥ7KHQDUUDWRUȢVȤVDOYDWLRQȥUHTXLUHV'HOLDȢVȤVDFULˋFHȥ
as indeed the class system already does: his act simultaneously makes
KHUSURGXFHDQGQHJDWHVKHU7KHˋQDOWRXFKRIWKLVQHJDWLRQ
is abandonment to the wolf’s mouth of poverty, now compounded by an
unwanted pregnancy. The novel concludes with the hopeless sentence,
Ȥ(OOD\HOKLMRKDE¯DQHQWUDGRHQODERFDGHORERȥȤ6KHDQGKHUFKLOGKDG
HQWHUHGWKHZROIȢVPRXWKȥ
1HYHUWKHOHVVWKHQRYHOGRHVQRWUHDOO\ˋQLVKZLWKWKLVUHGULGLQJ
hood-esque ending. The narrative is structured as a series of memories,
and several scenes appear in the middle of the novel that clearly post-
date the rape and abandonment, providing different angles on the
fable the novel has endeavored to tell. We see in these scenes that
the narrator did not manage to save himself from grinding repetition
and the perpetuation of class oppression, as he hoped he might. After
58 Witnessing beyond the Human
6LKD\XQDEHOOH]DHQHOPXQGRSHQV£EDPRVFRQ'HOLDVLDOJRJROSHDOD
HPRFLµQKDVWDGHMDUQRVVLQDOLHQWRVLDOJRFRQIXQGHORVUHFXHUGRVKDVWD
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$ O VDOLU GH OD YHQWDQD DSDJ X« OD OX] \ PH SXVH D HVFULELU HQ OD
oscuridad . . . Mirando . . . hacia adelante para no ver otra cosa que
matices borrosos y sombras en movimiento, me puse a escribir. Sin la
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WHQHUXQDYLGDP£VDXWµQRPDTXHGHFRVWXPEUH/DVIUDVHVDSDUHF¯DQ
\GHVDSDUHF¯DQFRPRHOSDLVDMHDPHGLGDTXHDYDQ]DPRV\JUDFLDV
DHVDSURJUHVLµQDFXPXODWLYDRPHMRUGLFKRDQWLDFXPXODWLYD\RLED
encontrando, en donde menos la esperaba y bajo otra forma, la naturaleza
GHODHVSHUDȟ
When I left the window, I turned out the light and began to write in
the darkness . . . Looking straight ahead so as not to see anything but
blurry shades and shadows in movement, I began to write. Without the
vigilance of vision, my hand first and then the letters . . . seemed to
have a more autonomous life than usual. The sentences appeared and
GLVDSSHDUHGOLNHWKHODQGVFDSHDVZHSDVVRYHULWDQGWKDQNVWRWKDW
accumulative progression, or better said antiaccumulative progression, I
VWDUWHGˋQGLQJZKHUH,OHDVWH[SHFWHGLWDQGLQDQRWKHUIRUPWKHQDWXUH
of waiting.
7KHHSLJUDSKRI5REHUWR%ROD³RȢVLPSRVLQJˋQDOQRYHO2666, reads
ȤDQ RDVLV RI KRUURU LQ D GHVHUW RI ERUHGRPȥ The line comes from
%DXGHODLUHȢV SRHP Ȥ7KH 9R\DJHȥ SXEOLVKHG LQ The Flowers of Evil
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evil, and the question of the nature of literature. Bolaño dedicated
an entire essay to the discussion of these motifs in relation to
%DXGHODLUHȢVSRHPWLWOHGȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVV ,OOQHVVȥȤ/LWHUDWXUD
HQIHUPHGDG HQIHUPHGDGȥ 7KLV HVVD\ ZDV SXEOLVKHG LQ
the year before 2666FDPHRXWERWKWH[WVZHUHDSSDUHQWO\ZULWWHQ
MXVW EHIRUH %ROD³RȢV XQWLPHO\ GHDWK LQ DQG ZHUH SXEOLVKHG
SRVWKXPRXVO\Ȥ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVV ,OOQHVVȥVHUYHVDVDNLQGRIars
poetica in which Bolaño presents—in slightly more explicit fashion
WKDQLQKLVˋFWLRQȠZKDWLVDWVWDNHIRUKLPLQWKHSUDFWLFHRIZULWLQJ
vis-à-vis the horrors of the modern world.
Throughout his work, Bolaño repeatedly stages literature and art as
GHPRQLFUHˌHFWLRQVRIUHSUHVVLYHVWUXFWXUHVRUSDWKHWLFXQGHUWDNLQJV
that lead nowhere. He is particularly disparaging of aesthetic practices
that aspire to be modernist or avant-garde, which, like Baudelaire’s
63
64 Witnessing beyond the Human
voyage, seek to depart from the old in search of the New. He depicts
not only their impotence vis-à-vis the evils of modernity, but also their
complicity with them. In what has become a fairly celebrated debate on
the nature of aesthetic production both in and beyond Chile, Willy Thayer
HFKRHVVXFKDFRQGHPQDWLRQDOEHLWZLWKQRDFNQRZOHGJPHQWRI%ROD³R
in his critique of Nelly Richard’s account of the Chilean neo-avant-garde.
Thayer rejects Richard’s assessment that the Chilean neo-avant-garde,
DFWLYHGXULQJWKHˋUVWGHFDGHRIWKH3LQRFKHWGLFWDWRUVKLSSHUIRUPHG
a disruption or insubordination of repressive discourse, since in his
view the military regime executed a rupture that effectively absorbed
RUGHˌHFWHGDQ\RWKHUIRUPRIUXSWXUHKHSURYRFDWLYHO\FDOOVWKHFRXS
the avant-garde event par excellence. 2 He makes this argument in
relation to another primary facet of modernity, as well, characterizing
FRQWHPSRUDU\FDSLWDOLVPDVWKHȤUXSWXUHRIDOOQRUPDOLW\ȥDFRQGLWLRQ
of rupture in which an aesthetics based on disruption is ineffectual or,
worse, becomes absorbed into its logic.
Some critics have suggested that Bolaño not only illustrates the
complicity of the avant-garde with the states of exception that constitute
the political economies of late modernity, but in fact recreates it—not
as an avant-garde, exactly, but through what Brett Levinson has called
his dissociative style, which Gareth Williams links to the “generalized
PHWRQ\PL]DWLRQȥRIXQUHVWUDLQHGFDSLWDOLVP In other words, Levinson
and Williams suggest that Bolaño’s work mirrors the dissociative
GLVUXSWLRQVRIODWHFDSLWDOLVWVRFLHW\VLJQDOLQJDGHˋQLWLYHGLVUXSWLRQ
of the political potential of aesthetic disruption, a state of inescapable
madness. Thayer, Levinson, and Williams do not believe that we are
WUXO\GHIHQVHOHVVDJDLQVWVXFKDVWDWHIXUWKHUPRUHWKH\DOOEHOLHYHLQD
political potencia of art and criticism. The questions they raise concern
what might constitute that potential, and, for Levinson and Williams,
whether Bolaño’s work contributes to it or not.
6XFKFRQVLGHUDWLRQVLQIRUPȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVV ,OOQHVVȥ7KHHVVD\
alternates between an autobiographical account of Bolaño’s thoughts
on the day he was given a terminal diagnosis of liver disease, and a
consideration of philosophical and literary treatments of the nature of
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as posing and answering a question, namely whether literature protects
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Draper describes the essay as addressing the aporia that lies at the
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Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 65
7KHKHDUWRIȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVV ,OOQHVVȥFRQVLGHUVWKHˋJXUHRIWKH
YR\DJHLQSRHPVE\%DXGHODLUHDQG0DOODUP«QDPHO\%DXGHODLUHȢV
Ȥ7KH9R\DJHȥWKHSRHPIURPZKLFKWKHHSLJUDSKWR2666 is taken, and
0DOODUP«ȢVȤ6HD%UHH]HȥDQGȤ$7KURZRIWKH'LFHȥ%ROD³RVXJJHVWV
that the work of nineteenth-century poets such as Baudelaire and
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PDMRUDQGVWLOOXQUHVROYHGSUREOHPVWKDW(XURSHDQG:HVWHUQFXOWXUH
ZHUHWRIDFHLQWKHWZHQWLHWKFHQWXU\ȥȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVVȥ
We should note that for Bolaño we are still very much within a
paradigm of modernity, confronted with the same problems as in the
nineteenth century, albeit in different forms and conditions. What he
understands by modernity is not quite so clear, since he names revolution,
GHDWKERUHGRPDQGˌLJKWDVLWVSULPDU\FRQFHUQVȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVVȥ
7KLVLVDSHFXOLDUOLVWEXWLWFRUUHVSRQGVTXLWHFORVHO\WR:DOWHU
%HQMDPLQȢVHTXDOO\SHFXOLDUXQGHUVWDQGLQJRIPRGHUQLW\OLNHO\EHFDXVH
KHWRRZDVDQDYLGUHDGHURI%DXGHODLUH,QDQXWVKHOO%HQMDPLQȢV
66 Witnessing beyond the Human
XQGHUVWDQGLQJRIPRGHUQLW\LQYROYHVDQDFNQRZOHGJPHQWRIˋQLWXGH
that aims to redeem it through secular means, primarily through a kind
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the allegorical death’s head or danse macabre illustrating the limits of
modernity’s masquerades.
%DXGHODLUHȢVȤ7KH9R\DJHȥZKLFK%ROD³RFDOOVȤSHUKDSVWKHPRVW
FOHDUH\HGSRHPRIWKHHQWLUHQLQHWHHQWKFHQWXU\ȥȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVVȥ
UHFRXQWVWKHHSLFGHVLUHRI the modern esprit humaine, which
VHHNVWRGHSDUWIURPZKDWLVNQRZQLQRUGHUWRDIˋUPLWVRZQLQˋQLWH
LGHQWLW\DJDLQVWWKHˋQLWXGHRIWKHZRUOG It begins with a childlike
ORQJLQJWRSDVVEH\RQGWKHFRQˋQHVRIWKHIDPLOLDUDQGSURWHFWHGDQG
develops into an imperialist lust for plunder and conquest: rupture with
the old to establish a new or renewed sense of property or propriety
LQFOXGLQJ ERWK WKH LQGLYLGXDO VXEMHFW DQG humanitas DV D ZKROH
However, such an economic journey of conquest and appropriation
is repeatedly thwarted, in part by the resistances of the world, and in
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entanglements of time.77KHHSLFLGHDORIWKHUHDIˋUPDWLRQRIVHOI
VRYHUHLJQW\WKURXJKDGYHQWXUHLVFRQIURQWHGZLWKWKHȤKRUURUȥRILWV
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existence: “the world/ has shown—will always show us—what we are:/
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,OOQHVVȥ In spite of, or toVSLWHWKLVVHOIUHˌHFWLRQWKH
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into the abysmal destination of death. The economy of modernity,
VDLOLQJEHQHDWKWKHDHVWKHWLFEDQQHURIWKH1HZ le Nouveau, is depicted
as a shipwreck from its very inception.
Bolaño singles out the verse that describes the adventurer confronted
with the horror of his own image, and remarks that it provides one of the
PRVWOXFLGGHSLFWLRQVRIWKHȤVLFNQHVVȥFRQIURQWLQJPRGHUQLW\ȤWKHUHLV
QRPRUHOXFLGGLDJQRVLVRIWKHLOOQHVVRIPRGHUQKXPDQLW\ȥ
RISRVVLELOLW\1DQF\GHVFULEHVWKHVXEMHFWDVȤDOZD\VVLPXOWDQHRXVO\
in actu and in potentia [Experience@ȥOLQNLQJERWKZKDWLVDQGZKDW
PLJKWEHWRWKHSRZHURIWKHVXEMHFWWRUHDOL]HLWVDFWXDOLW\
With the terminology of immunity, Derrida adds to the complexity
of this understanding of subjective sovereignty and its corresponding
notion of freedom. As I explain in my Introduction he uses the notion
of the immunological to describe the establishment and protection of a
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the root munusZKLFKUHIHUVWRGXWLHVRUREOLJDWLRQV,PPXQLW\UHOLHV
RQDQGHYHQGHˋQHVWKHVWUXFWXUHRIRSSRVLWLRQRSSRVLWLRQVEHWZHHQ
self and others, between health and sickness, and, in socio-political
terms, between a collectivity based on the common and others that
do not share in that common, including what Carl Schmitt calls the
fundamental political distinction between friend and enemy. Such a
relation of the same to itself involves a transcendent sense of life, in
which life is understood as that which is “safe and sound, unscathed,
intact, immune, freeȥ'HUULGDȤ)DLWKDQG.QRZOHGJHȥP\HPSKDVLV
This immunological, vital sense of freedom opposes itself to anything
that might disturb the organism’s autonomy, including death or illness,
relations beyond the fraternal or familial, the unknown, memory, the
future, and the very nature of thought and experience. It either eschews
them or appropriates them, through what Derrida unconventionally calls
VDFULˋFHE\ZKLFKKHPHDQVDV\PEROLFSUDFWLFHRIGRPLQDWLQJWKUHDWV
to immunological safety, generally performed through acts of ingestion
or internalization, including forms of representation that bring their
objects into the economy of the semblable.10 When these basic procedures
of resistance or incorporation fail, another operation sometimes kicks
in, which Derrida calls reactive autoimmunity or “indemnificatory
RUDXWRLPPXQLWDU\UHDFWLYLW\ȥȤ)DLWKȥ$XWRLPPXQLW\QDPHV
the failure of an organism to recognize itself as self, resulting in an
immune reaction against its own structure. When this occurs as a
ȤSURFHVVRIFRPSHQVDWLRQDQGUHVWLWXWLRQVRPHWLPHVVDFULˋFLDO
WKDWUHFRQVWLWXWHVSXULW\LQWDFWWKDWUHVWRUHVFOHDQOLQHVVpropreté
DQGSURSHUW\XQLPSDLUHGȥ'HUULGDGHVFULEHVLWDVDQLQGHPQLˋFDWRU\
UHDFWLRQWKDWLVERWKȤLPPXQLWDU\DQGDXWRLPPXQHȥȤ)DLWKȥQ
Salient examples include suicide bombing motivated by fundamentalism,
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against terror that employs terrorist tactics.
The grim alternative that Bolaño delineates between enslaved zombies
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 69
ȤIHGRQVRPDȥDQGHYLOesclavizadoresZKRDIˋUPWKHLUVHQVHRIIUHHGRP
based on the obliteration of others complements and extends Nancy’s
and Derrida’s associations among freedom, life, and power.11 The zombies
VWDQGDVDFDXWLRQDU\ˋJXUHRIWKHWUDSRIWKHLGHDOVRILPPXQLW\RUVHOI
UHIHUHQWLDOLW\7KH\DUHWKHOLYLQJGHDGIUHHIURPWKHWKUHDWRIˋQLWXGH
but also free from life itself, condemned to a timeless present of self-
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Baudelaire’s traveler seem to embody the ideal of subjectivity, pursuing an
ideal of freedom beyond the un-life of zombies, asserting a sense of vital
DJHQF\DJDLQVWWKHREMHFWLˋFDWLRQRIDOOHOVH7KHˋOLFLGHZKRGHFODUHGD
sense of freedom based on his actions is an extreme and sinister example
of this ideal—one that corresponds, furthermore, to Derrida’s description
RIDXWRLPPXQLWDU\UHDFWLYLW\LQZKLFKWKHGHVWUXFWLRQRIWKHSURSHUWKH
IDPLO\VHHPVWRGHOLYHUWKHSURSHUWKHVHOI
'LUHFWO\IROORZLQJKLVGHVFULSWLRQRIWKHˋOLFLGH%ROD³RSURYLGHV
another example of auto-immunitary reactivity with the description of
DPDVRFKLVWˋOPPDNHUZKRGHGLFDWHVKLPVHOIWRˋOPLQJVFHQHVRISDLQ
and later his own death.12 This example highlights what Derrida calls
WKHLQGHPQLˋFDWRU\DVSHFWRIDXWRLPPXQLWDU\UHDFWLYLW\QDPHO\WKH
LGHDWKDWVHOIGHVWUXFWLRQZLOOEHFRPSHQVDWHGE\VHOIDIˋUPDWLRQ7KH
VHOIGRFXPHQWLQJPDVRFKLVWUHFDOOVRWKHUˋJXUHVLQ%ROD³RȢVZRUNPRVW
QRWDEO\WKHȤEDUEDULFZULWHUVȥLQDistant Star DQGWKHDUWLVW
(GZLQ-RKQVLQ2666, who cuts off his own hand and places it at the center
RIDVHOISRUWUDLW6XFKH[SXOVLRQRIVHOILQWKHQDPHRIVHOI
DIˋUPLQJUHSUHVHQWDWLRQȠZKDW1DQF\FDOOVȤIUHHUHSUHVHQWDWLRQZKHUH
,DFFHGHVRYHUHLJQO\WRP\VHOIRIIUHHUHSUHVHQWDWLRQZKLFKGHSHQGV
RQO\RQP\ZLOOȥ>Experience @ȠWXUQVLQZDUGWKHUHSUHVHQWDWLRQRI
self at the expense of others represented by the likes of Carlos Wieder
in Distant Star and the unknown perpetrators of the serial murders of
working women in 2666ˋJXUHVWKDWFKLOOLQJO\FRQˌDWHPXUGHUDQG
art, using dead bodies as material for “free representation . . . of free
UHSUHVHQWDWLRQȥ1DQF\Experience$OORIWKHVHH[DPSOHVLOOXVWUDWHD
tendency of the avant-garde, namely, an association between destruction
IRULQVWDQFHRIWUDGLWLRQDFFHSWHGQRUPVHWFDQGH[SLDWLRQRUUHQHZHG
self-sovereignty, and also political modernity, which alternates between
SHULRGVRI]RPELˋHGVWDVLVDQGGHVWUXFWLRQLQWKHQDPHRIIUHHGRP
,QGLVWLQFWLRQWRWKHLGHDORIIUHHGRPWKDWSLWVWKHLQˋQLW\RIWKH
VXEMHFWDJDLQVWWKHˋQLWHQDWXUHRIWKHZRUOGGHVFULEHGE\%DXGHODLUH
DVWKHWUDYHOHUȢVGUHDPRIȤRXULQˋQLWHVHOIDZDVKRQWKHˋQLWHVHDȥ
70 Witnessing beyond the Human
TWGLQȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVVȥ1DQF\DQG'HUULGDDIˋUPWKH
possibility of another kind of freedom. Nancy terms this alternative
ȤˋQLWHIUHHGRPȥDQGGHVFULEHVLWDVFRQVLVWLQJRIDQH[SRVXUHWRWKH
RSHQQHVVRIEHLQJWRDOWHULW\DQGSRVVLELOLW\ExperienceII,QWKLV
sense the notion of freedom resembles the structure of experience,
XQGHUVWRRGQRWDVDȤOLPLWHGVSDFHRIDFWLRQȥExperience[[LLLEXW
DVLWVHW\PRORJ\VXJJHVWVDVDȤSHULORXVWUDYHUVLQJpeiroRIWKHOLPLW
perasȥExperience[[1DQF\ZULWHVȤ$QH[SHULHQFHLVDQDWWHPSW
executed without reserve, given over to the peril of its own lack of
foundation and security in the ‘object’ of which it is not a subject but
LQVWHDGWKHSDVVLRQH[SRVHGOLNHWKHSLUDWHpeiratesZKRIUHHO\WULHV
KLVOXFNRQWKHKLJKVHDVȥExperience Ȥ([SHULHQFHȥDQGȤSLUDWHȥ
share an etymological root that connotes an attempt or effort that
LQYROYHVDULVN7KHZRUGȤHPSLULFLVPȥDOVRVKDUHVWKLVURRWDQG1DQF\
uses this term unconventionally to designate a praxis of thought of
the experience of freedom, an exposure to “the coming up, without
ground, and the taking over, without possession, which is named in the
word ‘sur-priseȢȥExperience [[[ As such, it also involves the active
UHVLVWDQFHRIDOODWWHPSWVWRDSSURSULDWHWKHIXQGDPHQWDOˋQLWXGHRI
existence, to incorporate it into the economy of the proper. Perhaps
most importantly, since such experience and epistemological praxis of
freedom resist self-relation, they constitute the condition of possibility
for a relationality or com-pearance of singularities rather than sovereign
VXEMHFWVDFRPPXQLW\EH\RQGFRPPRQDOLW\Experience ȟ
,QDVLPLODUIDVKLRQ'HUULGDLQGLFDWHVWKHSRVVLELOLW\RIDˋQLWHIRUPRI
freedom with what he calls, surprisingly, autoimmunity. This other kind
RIDXWRLPPXQLW\LVQRWUHDFWLYHDQGLQGHPQLˋFDWRU\ȠLWGRHVQRWVHUYH
to restore or renew immunity or sovereignty. Rather it names for Derrida
WKHVWUXFWXUDOLPSRVVLELOLW\RIWKHLPPXQRORJLFDODQLQWHUQDOˋQLWXGHRU
ȤGHVWUXFWXULQJVWUXFWXUDWLRQȥLQWULQVLFWRHYHU\VWUXFWXUHȤ(DWLQJ:HOOȥ
$V,PHQWLRQLQP\,QWURGXFWLRQ,SURSRVHWRFDOOWKLVPRGHȤDOWHU
LPPXQLW\ȥWRVWUHVVLWVGLIIHUHQFHIURPWKHUHDFWLYHRULQGHPQLˋFDWRU\
kind. In addition to the indication of an alterity intrinsic to every living
organism, Derrida describes it as an exposure to an exterior alterity,
“something other and more than itself: the other, the future, death,
freedomȥȤ)DLWKȥP\HPSKDVLV/LNH1DQF\KHJLYHVWKHQDPH
ȤIUHHGRPȥWRDQRSHQQHVVWRWKDWZKLFKKDVQRIRXQGDWLRQȠWKHUDGLFDO
unknowability that constitutes the nature of the possible, which comes
from the past and the dead as well as from the future and from life. It
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 71
KDSSHQVLVWKHRQO\SODFHZKHUHWKHDQWLGRWHFDQEHIRXQGȥ
7KH1HZIRU0DOODUP«LVQHLWKHUUHGHPSWLRQQRUFRQGHPQDWLRQQRW
WKHȤWRWDOLWDULDQȥVWDWHVRIKHDOWKRUVLFNQHVVEXWH[SRVXUHWRWKHDE\VV
RUXQJURXQGHGQHVVRIˋQLWHH[LVWHQFHZKLFKLVDOVRWKHFRQGLWLRQRI
possibility of encounter.,XQGHUVWDQGWKHVHQVHRIWKHZRUGȤDQWLGRWHȥ
here to mean not absolute protection against sickness, as a means to
UHFRYHUKHDOWKDQGLQWHJULW\EXWDNLQGRISKDUPDFRORJLFDOpharmakon-
RORJLFDORUDOWHULPPXQHUHDFWLRQWRWKHRSSRVLWLRQEHWZHHQKHDOWK
DQGVLFNQHVVȠDQDIˋUPDWLRQRIOLIHQRWFRPSOHWHO\VHFOXGHGIURPGHDWK
The structure of different forms of freedom—or different modes of
relation to singularity, and thereby to the very nature of relation—is
GHYHORSHGIXUWKHUDQGLQDZD\WKDWKLJKOLJKWVWKHVLJQLˋFDQFHRIDOO
WKLVIRUDWKLQNLQJRIFRPPXQLW\LQȤ3ROLFH5DWȥ7KHVWRU\IHDWXUHVD
rat society in which most of the rats are focused on the basic needs of
survival, that is, the production and reproduction of the species: “We
live in a collective, and what the collective depends on is, above all, the
daily labor, the ceaseless activity of each of its members, working toward
a goal that transcends our individual aspirations but is nevertheless the
RQO\JXDUDQWHHRIRXUH[LVWHQFHDVLQGLYLGXDOVȥ,WLVDUDWUHSXEOLF
that aspires to self-protection through the subsumption of the many
to the one, an ideal immunological structure. The protagonist, Pepe,
is the eponymous rat policeman, and the nephew of none other than
Franz Kafka’s character Josephine the Singer. This kinship recalls other
ˋFWLRQVLQZKLFK%ROD³RSRUWUD\VDFRPSOLFLW\DQGFRPSOHPHQWDULW\
between artists and defenders of the social order. In this story, the
relationship between Pepe and his aunt serves to indicate the limits
of law and representation, limits that are uncomfortably witnessed by
Pepe, but ultimately upheld.
Pepe spends his days in solitude patrolling the web of pipes and
WXQQHOVLQKDELWHGE\KLVIHOORZUDWVVSDFHWKDWVHHPVWRIDLWKIXOO\UHˌHFW
DQGIDFLOLWDWHWKHSUHVXPHGWRWDOLW\WKHVHOIDSSHDULQJs’apparaîtreRI
the social: “where we are constantly digging tunnels to gain access to
new food sources or provide escape routes or link up with labyrinths
WKDWVHHPDWˋUVWJODQFHWRVHUYHQRSXUSRVHDQG\HWDOOWKRVHE\ZD\V
JRWRPDNHXSWKHQHWZRUNLQZKLFKRXUSHRSOHFLUFXODWHDQGVXUYLYHȥ
+LVPDLQIXQFWLRQDVSROLFHPDQVHHPVWREHWRVHHNRXWWKUHDWV
WRWKHLUVHFXULW\PDLQO\SUHGDWRUVELJJHUDQLPDOVDQGSRLVRQSODFHG
E\KXPDQV+HWHQGVWRˋQGPRVWRIWKHVHWKUHDWVEH\RQGWKHSULPDU\
WXQQHOVLQZKDWKHFDOOVȤGHDGVHZHUVȥȤSODFHVWKDWKDYHEHHQIRUJRWWHQ
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 73
not the only rodent to endure such an existence, but she is held up as
an extreme case:
GLDJQRVHVWKHVHGHDWKVDVDFFLGHQWDO3HSHUHˌHFWVWKDWLWLVPRUHOLNH
DȤSHUPDQHQWDFFLGHQWȥDVHQVHWKDWLVHFKRHGE\DQHFFHQWULF
passerby who shouts, a propos of nothing in particular, “everything
LVVWUDQJHVWUDQJHLVQRUPDOIHYHULVKHDOWKSRLVRQLVIRRGȥ
17 He begins to suspect that another rat is the perpetrator of the
crimes—an autoimmune reaction against the synthetic whole of the
collective—although he is discouraged from this interpretation by his
VXSHULRUVVLQFHWKH\FODLPȤUDWVGRQȢWNLOOUDWVȥ
:KHQ3HSHWUDFNVGRZQWKHSHUSHWUDWRUD\RXQJUDWQDPHG+«FWRU
he discovers that the murders were committed in the name of freedom
DQGDUW:KHQ3HSHFRQIURQWVKLP+«FWRULQYRNHVEXWGLVWLQJXLVKHV
himself from Josephine, whose singing he describes as an expression
RIIHDUDQGˋQLWXGHȤVKHZDVVFDUHGWRGHDWK7KHPHPEHUVRIKHU
audience were scared to death as well, although they didn’t know it. But
she didn’t die once and for all [3HUR-RVHˋQDHVWDEDP£VTXHPXHUWD]: she
GLHGHYHU\GD\DWWKHFHQWHURIIHDUDQGLQIHDUVKHFDPHEDFNWROLIHȥ
$OWKRXJK+«FWRUDFNQRZOHGJHVH[SHULHQFLQJIHDUKHIUDPHV
the killings as a kind of poeisisRUˋJXUDWLRQWKDWDLPVWRWUDQVFHQG
RUUHFRQˋJXUHWKDWIHDU$VZLWKWKHˋOLFLGHLQȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVV
,OOQHVVȥVXFKVXEMXJDWLRQLVSHFXOLDUO\ DVVRFLDWHGZLWKDNLQGRI
IUHHGRPKHGHFODUHVȤ,ȢPDIUHHUDWȥ7KLVDVVHUWLRQRIIUHHGRP
appears to be in distinction to both the general rat society, which could
HDVLO\EHTXDOLˋHGTXDWKHGHVFULSWLRQLQȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVV ,OOQHVVȥ
DV]RPELHOLNHDQGˋQLWXGHUHSUHVHQWHGE\-RVHSKLQHȢVVLQJLQJDQGWKH
fragile bodies that served as the material for his “free representation
ZKHUH,DFFHGHVRYHUHLJQO\WRP\VHOIRIIUHHUHSUHVHQWDWLRQZKLFK
GHSHQGVRQO\RQP\ZLOOȥ1DQF\Experience $VRIˋFLDOGHIHQGHURI
WKHLPPXQRORJLFDOVWUXFWXUHRIUDWVRFLHW\3HSHGHPDQGVWKDW+«FWRU
surrender, and when he refuses, Pepe attacks and kills him.
Unable to understand the difference between such autoimmune
reactivity, which attacks the immunity of rat society in the interest of
establishing an autonomous form of subjectivity, and the alter-immune
function associated with Josephine’s singing—and possibly because of his
RZQRIˋFLDOO\VDQFWLRQHGVWHSIURPSDVVLYHJXDUGLDQVKLSWRWKHYLROHQW
suppression of violence—Pepe falls into despair. He is admonished by
his superiors to cover up the challenge to the ideal of immunity. The
rat queen describes Hector as “a poison that shall not spell the end
RIOLIHIRUXVȥDQGWKHSROLFHFRPPLVVDU\SURKLELWVKLPIURP
talking about the murders with anyone: “The case was closed, and the
76 Witnessing beyond the Human
best thing for me to do was to forget about him and get on with my
OLIHDQGZRUNȥȤseguir viviendo y trabajandoȥ,QVSLWHRIWKLV
decree of immunological closure, in which threats to the vital integrity
RIWKHFROOHFWLYHDUHGLVDYRZHG3HSHˋQGVWKDWKHFDQQRWVLPSO\FORVH
the case. He comes to the realization that the ideal of social integrity is
LQIDFWFRQVWLWXWLYHO\ˌDZHGQRWRQO\IURPURJXHDVVDVVLQVOLNH+«FWRU
but as a generalized condition, represented for him in a dream of a virus
infecting the entire rat population, and a sense of general condemnation
ȟ+HFRQVLGHUVWKHLGHDORIFROOHFWLYLW\DWKHDWULFDODUWLˋFH
ȤDVHWWLQJDQGEDFNGURSIRURXUGDLO\DFWVRIKHURLVPȥȤHVFHQRJUDI¯D\
WHOµQSDUDQXHVWUDVKHURLFLGDGHVFRWLGLDQDVȥDQGUHWUHDWVIURP
the performance to what could be called the backstage, the dead spaces
ȤDOFDQWDULOODVPXHUWDVȥWKDWVHHPWRVHUYHDVDPHWRQ\PRIDOOWKDW
does not contribute to the rats’ intact sense of life. He waits in this alter-
VSDFHȤKLGLQJZDLWLQJȥDVLIIRUVRPHWKLQJEH\RQGWKHLPPXQHEXW
QRWKLQJKDSSHQHGȤQRRFXUULµQDGDȥ
Not perceiving that what he is waiting for is already there, in the
interstices of the social, punctuated furthermore by the skeletal memo-
ries of Josephine’s singing, he returns, disgusted and hopeless, to the
police commissary. A new recruit informs him that a weasel has cornered
a family of rats nearby, and says that it is too late to call for reinforce-
PHQWV3HSHUHˌHFWVȤ,WȢVDOUHDG\WRRODWHIRUHYHU\WKLQJȥ
and having renounced the untimeliness or other-timeliness represented
by the dead sewers, he cynically seizes the opportunity to act in the
present, performing an act of sham heroism that is its own theatrical
closure or telón. The story ends as he sets off to rescue the family, a
metonym of the organic collective, from external depredation.20
The associations among art, exposure to the limits of the immunological,
DQGSROLFLQJWKDWFRPHWRJHWKHULQWKHFKDUDFWHURI3HSHUHFDOOVWKHˋQDO
chapters of Distant Star. In these chapters a former policeman-turned-
hitman hires the narrator, a somewhat hapless writer, to help him track
GRZQ&DUORV:LHGHUD+«FWRUOLNHFKDUDFWHUZKRKDVPDGHDFDUHHURXW
of fusing cruelty and avant-garde aesthetics. The narrator reluctantly
complies, lured by the promise of a generous compensation, and, after
LGHQWLI\LQJ:LHGHUȢVVW\OHLQDQXPEHURIWH[WVKHLVDVNHGWRFRQˋUP
his identity in person as a prelude to his elimination. When the narrator
ˋUVWVHHV:LHGHUWKHOHWWHUVRQWKHSDJHVRIWKHERRNE\%UXQR6FKXO]
WKDWKHLVSUHWHQGLQJWRUHDGWDNHRQDȤPRQVWURXVFKDUDFWHUȥȤdimensión
monstruosaȥZKLUOLQJDURXQGOLNHEHHWOHVDQGWKHQOLNHH\HVRSHQLQJ
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 77
,Q Ȥ3ROLFH 5DWȥ DQG Distant Star the figure of the police seems to
indicate an exposure to history, as described by Fredric Jameson’s
PHPRUDEOHSKUDVHȤKLVWRU\LVZKDWKXUWVȥȠVHQVHOHVVWHUULI\LQJDQG
IXOORILQMXVWLFHȠDVZHOODVLWVȤFRQYHUVLRQȥLQWRWKHLPPXQRORJLFDO
LQFOXGLQJQRWRQO\SROLFHORJLFIULHQGHQHP\GLVWLQFWLRQDQGQDUUDWLYH
FORVXUHEXWDOVRDVRYHUHLJQLQGLYLGXDOLVPFDSDEOHRIȤIUHHLQJȥLWVHOI
from that pain, turning its aporias into humanist tales of freedom. 22
Although the stories conclude with this sense of closure and
conversion, I want to propose that in Bolaño’s work such endings are
not conclusive. The case is not closed—we are not left in a blind alley
ZLWKVODYLVK]RPELHVDQGVHOIVDWLVˋHGPXUGHUHUV$VZLWK%ROD³RȢV
discussion of nineteenth-century poetry, there is a tenuous but also
resurgent alternative: an exposure to the alter-immunological that
is the condition of possibility of an ethical relationality not based
on subjugation. Literature for Bolaño is an exemplary space of such
a possibility, perhaps because of its ability to indicate a “perilous
WUDYHUVLQJȥ RI WKH OLPLWV RI WKH LPPXQRORJLFDO 1DQF\ Experience
[[ 7KLV WUDYHUVLQJ LV SUHVHQWHG RQ VHYHUDO RFFDVLRQV WKURXJK D
kind of disarticulation and what I will call, following Sara Guyer, a
ȤEXFFDOL]DWLRQȥRIKXPDQLVWVRYHUHLJQW\SXWDWLYHRULJLQDQGHQGRI
the practice of immunological conversion.
One instance of such a disarticulation is indicated by the description
in Distant Star of the blinking eyes that appear in the book by Bruno
Schulz, a blinking that seems to indicate the alter-immunological nature
of witnessing, which resists reduction into immunological distinctions
between self and other, friend and enemy, and even present and past,
WKHOLYLQJSUHVHQWDQGWKHWH[WXDOO\VSHFWUDO%UXQR6FKXO]ZDVD3ROLVK
Jewish writer and artist successively rescued and killed by members of
WKH*HVWDSR7KLVGHVFULSWLRQUHVHPEOHVWKHSDVVDJHLQZKLFKWKH\HDU
LVH[SODLQHGLQAmulet, a propos the Avenida Guerrero in Mexico
City: “Guerrero, at that time of night, is more like a cemetery than an
DYHQXHDFHPHWHU\LQWKH\HDUDIRUJRWWHQFHPHWHU\XQGHU
the eyelid of a corpse or an unborn child, bathed in the dispassionate
ˌXLGVRIDQH\HWKDWWULHGVRKDUGWRIRUJHWRQHSDUWLFXODUWKLQJWKDW
LWHQGHGXSIRUJHWWLQJHYHU\WKLQJHOVHȤOD*XHUUHURDHVDKRUD
se parece sobre todas las cosas a un cementerio, . . . un cementario de
XQFHPHQWHULRROYLGDGRGHEDMRGHXQS£USDGRPXHUWRRQRQDWR
las acuosidades desapasionadas de un ojo que por querer olvidar algo
KDWHUPLQDGRSRUROYLGDUWRGRȥAmuletȟ%RWKRFXODULPDJHV
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 79
*X\HUFDOOVDJHQHUDOȤRULˋFDWLRQȥRIWKHVXEMHFWLQZKLFKWKHRULˋFHV
PRVWDVVRFLDWHGZLWKSURVRSRSRHLFVXEMHFWLˋFDWLRQEHFRPHRSHQLQJVWR
WKHRWKHU*X\HU*X\HUFRPSDUHVWKLVVHQVHRIRULˋFDWLRQWR1DQF\ȢV
description of buccality. She explains how Nancy distinguishes orality,
which he calls a metonymy of discourse and the prosopopoeic, from the
buccal, which he describes as “an opening—unstable and mobile—[that]
forms at the instant of speaking. For the instant, one discerns nothing:
HJRGRHVQRWPHDQDQ\WKLQJHJRRQO\RSHQVWKLVFDYLW\(YHU\PRXWKLVD
VKDGRZPRXWKEgo SumTWGLQ*X\HU,QOn Touching—Jean
Luc Nancy, Derrida calls the buccal the “originary spacing of a mouth
RSHQLQJLWVHOIȥTWGLQ*X\HU
%ROD³RFRQFOXGHVȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVV ,OOQHVVȥZLWKDVWULNLQJLPDJH
that I want to suggest is his version of the buccality invoked through
Josephine’s strange singing, reverberating at the aporetic limits of
speech and silence, self and other, life and death. After his consider-
DWLRQRIWKHˋJXUHRIWKHYR\DJHDVHLWKHUDQLPPXQRORJLFDOUHWXUQWR
VHOI%DXGHODLUHRUDQDOWHULPPXQRORJLFDOJHVWXUHEH\RQGWKHȤWRWDOL-
WDULDQȥVWDWHVRIKHDOWKDQGVLFNQHVV0DOODUP«%ROD³RUHWXUQVWRKLV
experience of the day he was diagnosed with incurable liver disease.
The entire essay seems to be dedicated to countering the image of
OLIHDVOLQHDUDQGK\JLHQLFDVUHSUHVHQWHGE\KLVȤYR\DJHȥLQDODUJH
PRGHUQHOHYDWRUWKDWHIˋFLHQWO\VSHHGVKLPIURPRQHˌRRUWRWKHQH[W
LQWKHKRVSLWDOȠDSODFHWKDWH[HPSODULO\GHˋQHVOLIHDVLPPXQRORJLFDO
in spite of the aporia haunting its name. The elevator delivers him to
DˌRRUZKHUHDGRFWRUH[DPLQHVKLPWRUHJLVWHUKLVSURJUHVVWRZDUG
death. This measurement is performed through a series of tests, one of
which he describes in detail: “It consisted of holding my hands out in
DYHUWLFDOSRVLWLRQIRUDIHZVHFRQGVWKDWLVZLWKWKHˋQJHUVSRLQWLQJ
XSWKHSDOPVIDFLQJKHU>WKHGRFWRU@DQGWKHEDFNVWRPHȥȤ&RQVLVW¯D
en mantener durante unos segundos las manos extendidas de forma
YHUWLFDOYDOHGHFLUFRQORVGHGRVKDFLDDUULEDHQVH³£QGROHDHOODODV
SDOPDV\FRQWHPSODQGR\RHOGRUVRȥ+HDVNVWKHGRFWRUWKH
purpose of this test, and is told that in the late stages of his disease he
ZLOOQRWEHDEOHWRPDLQWDLQKLVˋQJHUVLQWKLVSRVLWLRQ He writes, “In
any case, every day since then, wherever I happen to be, I take that test.
I hold my hands out, palms facing away, and for a few seconds I examine
my knuckles, my nails, the wrinkles that form on every phalange. The
GD\ZKHQP\ˋQJHUVFDQȢWKROGWKHPVHOYHVXSVWUDLJKW,GRQȢWUHDOO\
NQRZZKDW,ȢOOGRȥ
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 81
The image of the writer contemplating his own hands evokes the scene
in Baudelaire’s poem in which the traveler observes with horror that his
horizon has become his own image. It also calls to mind Heidegger’s
discussion of the hand as a principal point of contact with being, which
for him is always related to the imminence of death. Heidegger regards
the hand as a distinguishing trait of human beings, not, in a strictly
evolutionary-biological sense, because of its ability to grasp objects,
QRULQLWVˋJXUDOVHQVHRIFRPSUHKHQGLQJFRQFHSWVWKH*HUPDQZRUG
for concept, BegriffLPSOLHVDVHQVHRIJUDVSLQJ Instead, as part of
his longstanding effort to think beyond classical subjectivity and the
physical and conceptual forms of domination that seem to accompany
LWKHQDPHVWKHKDQGDVDVLWHRIJLYLQJDQGE\H[WHQVLRQDˋJXUH
for thinking, which he names “Man’s simplest Hand-werkȥDVZHOO
DVIRUZULWLQJTWGLQAnimal Rites: American Culture, the Discourse of
Species, and Posthumanist Theory:ROIH,QKLVFULWLTXHRI+HLGHJJHUȢV
DSSURDFKWRWKHKDQG'HUULGDVWUHVVHVWKDW+HLGHJJHULGHQWLˋHVWKHKDQG
QRWRQO\DVWKDWZKLFKJLYHVEXWVSHFLˋFDOO\DVWKDWZKLFKJLYHVLWVHOI
ȤVLHUHFKWVLFKVȢRIIUHȥTWGLQ/DZORU/HRQDUG/DZORUHPSKDVL]HV
how this self-giving is related to a sense of pointing, or indexicality, to
the living self and also to the fact of death. For Heidegger, animals have
no hands not because they lack opposable thumbs, but because they do
not understand life in relation to death. Only humans are capable of
pointing to themselves and the eventuality of death, and therefore of
ȤJLYLQJȥRUUHODWLQJWREHLQJDVWKDWZKLFKȤJLYHVȥEs gibt,QVSLWHRIWKH
fact that Heidegger aims to displace the specular structure of the classic
subject, represented by Baudelaire’s poem in which the traveler comes
IDFHWRIDFHZLWKKLVRZQUHˌHFWLRQKHHQGVXSUHLQVWDWLQJDVSHFXODU
return to the proper in his insistence on the privileged distinction of
human beings.27
Unlike Baudelaire’s return to self and Heidegger’s appeal to the hand as
an instrument of self-possessed giving, Bolaño’s description of the hand
test suggests a deep defamiliarization, an encounter with the unfamil-
iarity of something generally considered the epitome of the familiar—a
tentative, probing experience of what life is before death, “given over
WRWKHSHULORILWVRZQODFNRIIRXQGDWLRQDQGVHFXULW\ȥ1DQF\Experi-
ence)RU%ROD³RWKLVSHULORUOLPLWLVFORVHUDQGPRUHGLVWLQFWWKDQ
for most, given his terminal illness, but not fundamentally different.
His description of his hands implies neither grasping nor giving, nor a
FRQVLGHUDWLRQRIGHDWKȤDVVXFKȥEXWUDWKHUDQH[SRVXUHWRWKHWKUHVKROGV
82 Witnessing beyond the Human
between life and death, self and not-self, and, akin to Josephine’s
singing, writing as a kind of buccal spacing between speech and silence.
A propos of his contemplation of his hands as limit but also opening,
%ROD³RLQYRNHV0DOODUP«DQG.DIND+HUHIHUVWR0DOODUP«ȢVȤ$7KURZ
RIWKH'LFH:LOO1HYHU$EROLVK&KDQFHȥLQZKLFKWKHHSLFFRQVWLWXWLRQRI
VXEMHFWLYLW\LVˋUPO\VKLSZUHFNHGDQGWKHVKDUGVDUHORRVHO\JDWKHUHGLQ
a kind of constellation that holds open the fact of possibility, graphically
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wrote that a roll of the dice will never abolish chance. And yet every
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EHWDNHQHYHU\GD\ȥȤ0DOODUP«HVFULELµTXHXQJROSHGHGDGRVMDP£V
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ȟ:LWKDUDWKHUZHDNȠSHUKDSVLQWHQWLRQDOO\LQˋUPȠSOD\RQ
words between dados and dedos%ROD³RDIˋUPVWKDWGHVSLWHWKHOLPLWHG
QDWXUHRIKLVOLIHRUSHUKDSVHYHQEHFDXVHRILWSRVVLELOLW\H[LVWV7KH
description of his hands suggests how in both writing and life things
can happen, the golpes of chance and of life, and also the strikes of the
pen or keyboard, that is, the potential for surprise or encounter that can
be experienced through writing.
+HH[SDQGVRQWKLVZLWKDFRQVLGHUDWLRQRI(OLDV&DQHWWLȢVREVHUYDWLRQ
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which seems to have been one of the primary sources of inspiration for
this essay on literature and sickness:
The description of paths that lead nowhere and yet must be traversed
HYRNHVWKHWHUPȤDSRULDȥZKLFKHW\PRORJLFDOO\UHIHUVWRDQLPSDVVDELOLW\
or impossibility, and yet which Derrida insists is inextricable from the
nature of the possible. Like Josephine’s singing, calling across the
DSRUHWLFOLPLWVRIWKHLPPXQRORJLFDO.DINDȢVZULWLQJȠOLNH0DOODUP«ȢV
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 83
shining eyes. I thought that the death of the Indian woman with gum
FDQFHUKDGDIIHFWHGKLPPRUHWKDQ,EHOLHYHGDWˋUVW$QGP\IULHQGVDLG
you’re asking yourself what is the secret history? Well the secret history
is the one we’ll never know, the one we’re living day to day, thinking that
we’re living, thinking that we have it all under control, thinking that what
we overlook doesn’t matter. But every single damn thing matters! We just
tell ourselves that art runs along this sidewalk and that life, our life, runs
DORQJWKHRWKHURQHDQGZHGRQȢWUHDOL]HWKDWȢVDOLHȟȟ
The headlights swept across a dirt road . . . and then we emerged suddenly
into what seemed to be the country, although it equally could have been
a garbage dump . . . In the distance I could see headlights gliding along
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 85
a highway: another world, and yet I felt those distant moving lights were
VRPHKRZȠKRUULEO\ȠHPEOHPDWLFRIRXUGHVWLQ\
Ramírez can live, and he can write, and yet due to the distance
between social classes, which condemns him to the peripheries
surrounding this already peripheral city, his literary perambulations
ZLOOQHYHUILQGLQVFULSWLRQUHFHSWLRQGLVWULEXWLRQFDQRQL]DWLRQ
Ramírez will never become Rimbaud.
<HWLQVSLWHRIWKHGLVWDQFHVVHSDUDWLQJȤRQHVLGHZDONDQGDQRWKHUȥ
Ramírez writes. Unable to commit himself to the road of literature and
OLIHOLNH5LPEDXGDQGWKHQXPHURXVZULWHUWUDYHOHUVWKDWSRSXODWH
%ROD³RȢVˋFWLRQVKHPDQDJHVWRˋQGWKLQJVDORQJWKHSDWKVDYDLODEOH
to him, as Bolaño puts it in his description of Kaf ka: “paths that
don’t lead anywhere, and that nevertheless . . . are paths one has to
IROORZDQGORVHRQHVHOIRQVRDVWREHDEOHWRˋQGRQHVHOIDJDLQRU
WRˋQGVRPHWKLQJȥȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVVȥ7KLVSRVVLELOLW\
of encounter—including the encounter with the long history of pain
and its open mouths suspended between silence and speech—is what
WKHGHQWLVWFDOOVWKHȤPDWUL[RIWKHVHFUHWKLVWRU\ȥ7KLVPDWULFDO
possibility requires an openness, an opening of enclosed spaces, of which
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6XFKDQRSHQLQJLVUHSUHVHQWHGLQDGUHDPWKHQDUUDWRUKDVDIWHU
UHDGLQJ5DP¯UH]ȢVˋFWLRQIRUWKHˋUVWWLPHLQZKLFKWKHERG\RIWKHROG
Indian woman who died of mouth cancer appears in Ramírez’s house: “I
WKLQNKHUZDNHZDVEHLQJKHOGLQ5DP¯UH]ȢVKRXVHȥȤ&UHRTXHODHVWDEDQ
YHODQGRHQODFDVDGH5DP¯UH]ȥ5DP¯UH]ȢVKRXVHZKLFKVHHPV
WREHDUHFRQˋJXUDWLRQRIKLVˋFWLRQLWLVGHVFULEHGDVULVLQJXSRXWRI
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nature of his neighborhood, but also to the towering classic of modern
0H[LFDQˋFWLRQPedro PáramoDSSHDUVDVDVSDFHRIERWKFRQFHDOPHQW
and unconcealment—in Spanish velar means both to veil and to watch
RYHUDVLQDZDNHvelorioȠRIWKHXQVSRNHQSDLQRIKLVWRU\UHSUHVHQWHG
by the Indian woman’s mouth. Such an opening of the enclosed space of
WKHGRPHVWLFDQGWKHDSSDUHQWO\ȤLUUHPHGLDEOHȥGLVWDQFHVHSDUDWLQJWKH
middle-class protagonists and Ramírez, is also evoked by the description
RIDGRRULQKLVDFWXDOKRXVHLHQRWLQWKHQDUUDWRUȢVGUHDPZKLFK
VHHPVWRKDYHEHHQUHFHQWO\KHZQE\DQD[H7KLVLPDJH
seems to describe Ramírez’s writing not only as a space that houses
SURWHFWVDQGUHYHDOVWKHEXFFDORSHQLQJRIWKHVXEDOWHUQEXWDOVRDVD
86 Witnessing beyond the Human
,QWKHˋUVWWZRWH[WV,H[DPLQHLQWKLVFKDSWHU%ROD³RGRHVQRWIRFXV
RQVSHFLILFJHRKLVWRULFDOFLUFXPVWDQFHV$VLQȤ'HQWLVWȥKRZHYHU
many of his works are geographically and historically situated,
generally in relation to Mexico or Chile, or to the uneasy continuities
EHWZHHQ(XURSHDQKLVWRU\DQG/DWLQ$PHULFD,QWKHVSUDZOLQJSDJHV
of 2666, the question of modernity, posed on the first page by the
Baudelairean epigraph, is carried through the rise and subsequent
UXLQRILPSHULDOSRZHUVLQPLGFHQWXU\(XURSH1D]LDQG6RYLHWWR
the simultaneous rise and ruin of late global capital as represented
E\WKH8QLWHG6WDWHVȟ0H[LFRERUGHUDWWKHWXUQRIWKHWZHQW\ILUVW
century. This setting seems on the one hand to illustrate the sense
RIȤDGHVHUWRIERUHGRPȥEURNHQRQO\E\RDVHVRIKRUURUVLQFHWKH
ˋFWLRQDOWRZQDWWKHFHQWHURIWKHQRYHO6DQWD7HUHVDȠDˋFWLRQDOL]HG
YHUVLRQRI&LXGDG-X£UH]ȠLVORFDWHGLQWKHGHVHUWDQGLVSODJXHGE\
a seemingly unstoppable series of murders. But more than simply
presenting a modernized depiction of Baudelaire’s phrase, 2666
brings the question of modernity to an extreme limit, represented
by this frontier setting, as if to ask whether we are still crossing the
same desert as before, and whether our tools for surviving it—alter-
immunologically—still function.
As Patrick Dove eloquently explains in his recent book Literature
and “Interregnum”: Globalization, War, and the Crisis of Sovereignty in
Latin AmericaWKH8QLWHG6WDWHVȟ0H[LFRERUGHUUHSUHVHQWVDKLVWRULFDO
IURQWLHUDVZHOODVDSROLWLFDORQH ,WLVDVLWHRIˌLJKWDQGˌRZVRI
ERWKKXPDQDQGFDSLWDOEH\RQGWKHOLPLWVRIWUDGLWLRQDOFRQˋJXUDWLRQV
LQFOXGLQJSULPDULO\WKHQDWLRQVWDWH7KLVSRVWQDWLRQDOˌRZFRQVWLWXWHV
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voyage explored earlier, although perhaps the predominant difference—
aside from the conditions of the travelers f leeing from poverty,
threatened by violence at every step, subjected to unjust working
conditions in enormous frontier factories or as migrant farmworkers in
WKH8QLWHG6WDWHVDQGWKHVLPXOWDQHRXVMRXUQH\VRIGUXJVPRQH\DQG
arms, often on the backs of similarly destitute and ostensibly disposable
LQGLYLGXDOVȠLVWKDWLWLVDˌRZZLWKRXWUHWXUQRUZLWKDSXUHO\FDSLWDOLVW
return, which falls directly into the pockets of multinational companies
and drug traffickers. The peculiar inside-outside space of such
88 Witnessing beyond the Human
WUDQVQDWLRQDOˌRZLVUHSUHVHQWHGHPEOHPDWLFDOO\E\WKHPDTXLODGRUDV
multinationally owned factories located inside free-trade zones along the
border, which are exempt from duties and taxes as well as labor laws and
other nationally imposed limits on capitalist accumulation. The series
RIPXUGHUVWKDWWDNHVSODFHLQ6DQWD7HUHVDUHˌHFWLQJDFWXDOHYHQWV
LQ&LXGDG-X£UH]FODLPPRVWRIWKHLUYLFWLPVIURPDPRQJWKHIHPDOH
maquiladora workers, or take place close to their hulking structures, as
if making visible a violence that lies beneath the new world order. The
PXUGHUHUVȠOLNHO\GUXJWUDIˋFNHUVWKHRWKHUDJHQWVˋJKWLQJIRUFRQWURO
over this extra or transnational territory—turn women’s bodies into a
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sovereignty, a more explicitly violent version of the way multinational
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Dove joins a number of other critics who have interpreted this
symbolically charged setting of 2666 as an indication of the end of the
paradigm of modernity. Jean Franco denounces Bolaño’s novel, and
his writing in general, for depicting the apparent futility of modern
structures of resistance and subversion, including the constitution of
political subjectivities and historical knowledge, which she believes
are vital to political action. At an opposite extreme, critics such as
Levinson and Williams—who do not share Franco’s belief in the relations
among politics, subjectivity, and representation—describe the narrative
landscape of 2666 as one slashed by madness: not madness as crisis or
possibility, as Derrida reads in Foucault’s work, but pure dissociation,
ZKLFKWKH\VHHDVDUHˌHFWLRQRIDODWHFDSLWDOLVP In “Case Closed:
Madness and Dissociation in 2666ȥ/HYLQVRQFRQVLGHUVWKDWFKDSWHU
Ȥ7KH3DUW$ERXWWKH&ULPHVȥSHUIRUPVWKLVGLVVRFLDWLRQLQLWVUHOHQWOHVV
recounting of the details of the serial murders, part journalism and part
police log. This chapter in many ways seems to epitomize the futility not
only of forms of telling, namely narrative as based on continuity, but
also the traditional structure of knowledge based on revelation. Dove
VWUHVVHVWKLVSRLQWZKHQKHGHVFULEHVWKHGHVHUWODQGVFDSHDVDˋJXUHIRU
an era in which everything is out in the open, overexposed, and “the old
epistemological pairings of revelation and concealment, masking and
unmasking, appearance and truth, prove ineffective for understanding
RXUFXUUHQWVLWXDWLRQȥȤ/LWHUDWXUHDQGWKH6HFUHWRIWKH:RUOGȥ
Although literature and art over the past century have sought to
disrupt and question such epistemological binaries, Dove emphasizes
that in 2666 Bolaño depicts their role on the geo-historical frontiers
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 89
WRRNKLPIURP&KLOHWR0H[LFRWRDWRZQRXWVLGH%DUFHORQD$OWKRXJK
the ostensible reason for his move is a job in a philosophy department at
WKHORFDOXQLYHUVLW\KHVHHPVWRKDYHQRLGHDZK\KHLVWKHUHLWVHHPV
to be just one more place in a life constituted by displacement. In one
sense, the move seems to have been conceived as the attempt to take
control of such displacement, representing a personal-historical effort
to disengage with the past associated by the previous place, including
the memory of his Catalan wife, who lost her sanity and abandoned
her family when Rosa was a toddler. Her recent return and subsequent
GHSDUWXUHVHHPWRKDYHEHHQWKHFDWDO\VWIRU$PDOˋWDQRȢVGHFLVLRQWR
OHDYH6SDLQUHSUHVHQWLQJDˌLJKWIURPDFUD]\DQGDEDQGRQLQJZLIH
DQGPRWKHUHFKRLQJKLVHDUOLHUDWWHPSWWRˌHHDFUD]\DQGDEDQGRQLQJ
PRWKHUODQG1RWVXUSULVLQJO\WKLVDWWHPSWWRHVFDSHWKHSDVWEDFNˋUHV
DQGLQVWHDGRIDUULYLQJVDQHO\LQDVHFXUHDQGQXUWXULQJODQGKHˋQGV
himself in a desert border town characterized by violent abandonment,
traumatized by a series of inexplicably brutal murders of young women
of roughly the same age as his daughter, in which any semblance of
state-provided welfare or protection, any sense of the nation as home, is
ODFNLQJ(YHQWKHKDSOHVVSROLFHEHDUWKHQDPHVRIDEDQGRQHGFKLOGUHQ
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exposure is experienced as a personal and psychic frontier as well as
one with historical and political implications. Against this background,
KLVMREDVSKLORVRSK\SURIHVVRUVHHPVHVSHFLDOO\VLJQLˋFDQWSRVLQJWKH
question to what extent he—and modernity in general—has arrived at
an epistemological limit.
7KHˋUVWGHVFULSWLRQVRI$PDOˋWDQRȢVQHZOLIHLQ0H[LFRVHHPWR
suggest that the setting of Santa Teresa represents if not an exhaustion,
then an extreme limit of knowledge, as represented by the academic
structure of the university. The university where he has arrived to work
is described as a ruin that does not acknowledge its ruined condition:
“The University of Santa Teresa was like a cemetery that suddenly
EHJLQVWRWKLQNLQYDLQȥ2ULJLQDOO\XQLYHUVLWLHVZHUH
conceived as institutions dedicated to synthesizing diverse forms of
knowledge about the universe, with man as their solar center, both
subject and ultimate object of its versical investigations. (XURSHZDV
the geographical site of these establishments, and the humanities, and
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In Santa Teresa, on the peripheries of modernity, such universalist
structures seem out of place and on the verge of futility.
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 91
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SKLORVRSK\DQGOLWHUDWXUHZKROLNHVRPDQ\XQLYHUVLW\RIˋFLDOVWRGD\
YLHZVSKLORVRSK\ȠQRORQJHUH[FOXVLYHO\DQH[HUFLVHDIˋUPLQJPDQȢV
capacity for knowledge, but also naming different modes of inquiry
into the limits of such knowledge—as a particularly outmoded exercise
YLV¢YLVWKHTXDQWLˋDEOHDGYDQFHVRIVFLHQFHDQGWHFKQRORJ\+HFDOOV
philosophy “a discipline frankly on the decline in the face of the current
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however with an idiosyncratic understanding of the continued relevance
of literature and history: “literature does have a future, believe it or not,
and so does history . . . take biographies, there used to be almost no
supply or demand and today all anybody does is read them. Careful, I’m
talking about biographies, not autobiographies. People have a thirst to
OHDUQDERXWRWKHUOLYHVȥ7KHKXPDQLWLHVLQLWLDOO\GHGLFDWHG
to determining humans’ place in the world as a means of understanding
the world, are fundamentally surpassed by science and technology,
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Philosophy, as a discipline oriented to considering the question of
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is caricatured as the nadir of such translation, whereas literature and
history are defended, somewhat feebly, as modes of production of
knowledge about human lives, packaged as consumable goods that
ˌRZDORQJVLGHVFLHQWLˋFDGYDQFHVDVSDUWRIWKHFDSLWDOLVWV\VWHP7KLV
assessment of the humanities as a factory for packaging up life and
history recalls the description, quoted previously, of the conversion of
the alterity of history into human-semblanced parcels: “It turned the
pain of others into one’s own memory. It turned pain, which is long
and natural and which always triumphs, into personal memory, which
is human and brief and which always escapes. It turned a barbaric story
of injustices and abuses, an incoherent howl with no beginning or end,
LQWRDQHDWO\VWUXFWXUHGKLVWRU\ȥ
Later in the novel such a sense of conversion is associated with
aesthetic tropology, described in the context of the writer Archimboldi’s
post-war selection of his pseudonym. He chooses this name in relation
to the description of the Italian Renaissance painter Giuseppe
Arcimboldo in the journal of a revolutionary Jewish-Russian refugee
named Boris Ansky. Ansky describes thoughts of Arcimboldo’s work
as providing mental relief from the escalating conditions of war. The
SDLQWHUȢVVW\OHLVEDVHGRQKXPDQˋJXUHVFRPSULVHGRIVWLOOOLIHREMHFWV
92 Witnessing beyond the Human
the border-town of Santa Teresa and all that it represents. Among the
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totalizing conversion is perhaps most peculiarly but paradigmatically
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the Middle Ages. Llull can be seen as one of the founding fathers of
the modern ideal of conversion, spanning both political-religious
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convert Muslims to Christianity, and he is considered a forerunner
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XQGHUVWRRGDVWKHUHDVRQHGFDOFXODWLRQRIWUXWKDOWKRXJKD0HGLHYDO
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consisted of a combinatory graphic, known as a logic machine, which
combines different elements to show “all possible truth about a subject
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that he draws subconsciously as he begins to lose his grip on reason
2666+LVJUDSKLFVXQOLNH/OXOOȢVIDLOWR\LHOGDQ\XQLW\RIVHQVH
combining the names of philosophers with no apparent logic other
than subconscious association, once again recalling Bolaño’s reference
to paths that lead nowhere but provide the possibility of encounter,
suggesting an intrinsic difference between philosophy’s tendency toward
systematization and thought that perilously traverses the limits of the
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elements in such a way that stresses the tension between the creation
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VHQVHRIJURXQGarche,QGHHGDVLIWRVWUHVVWKHUHODWLRQVKLSEHWZHHQ
philosophical calculation and prosopopoeic figuration, just before
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DIDFHDQGHUDVHGLWDQGWKHQLPPHUVHGKLPVHOIse ensimismóLQWKH
memory of the obliterated face [aquel rostro despedazado@ȥȟ
/LNH$UFKLPEROGLKHFRQWHPSODWHVWKHIORDWLQJIUDJPHQWV RI
his philosophical heritage, as part of a broader attempt to come to
terms with the nature of life—as alter-immunological survival—on this
catastrophic limit of late modernity.
2QHRIWKHVHˌRDWLQJIUDJPHQWVUHLQFRUSRUDWHVLWVHOIVRWRVSHDN
and comes back to Amalfitano in the form of a disembodied voice.
Alongside the fact that the voice seems to be another symptom of a
developing psychosis, it reveals an internal dilemma over the nature
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Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 95
7KHVH+DQGVDQG7KLV%RG\$UH0LQH"ȥ$VVXJJHVWHGE\WKLVTXHVWLRQ
Descartes challenges himself to imagine that his sensory organs are
mere illusion, in part to repudiate through reason such an irrational
doubt, but also, as Butler reminds us, because “it is Descartes’s ultimate
project to understand himself as a soul, as a res cogitans and not as a
body . . . Thus, his effort to establish radical self-certainty as a rational
EHLQJOHDGVZLWKLQWKHWH[WWRDQLGHQWLˋFDWLRQZLWKWKHLUUDWLRQDOȥ
'HVFDUWHVȢVH[SHULPHQWDWLRQLQWKLVIRXQGDWLRQDOWH[WRIPRGHUQ
WKRXJKWLVDFOHDUH[DPSOHRIZKDW'HUULGDFDOOVȤLQGHPQLˋFDWRU\RU
DXWRLPPXQLWDU\UHDFWLYLW\ȥȤ)DLWKȥEHFRPLQJLUUDWLRQDOLQRUGHU
WRFRQˋUPKLVUDWLRQDOLW\ Furthermore, although he questions whether
his body is synonymous with his sense of self, he takes its functions for
JUDQWHGLQFOXGLQJIRULQVWDQFHWKHˋJXUDOVHQVHRILQVWUXPHQWDOLW\
generally associated with the hands, as concepts or words capable of
grasping or giving meaning, which are subordinated nonetheless to the
ostensible immediacy and corporeal centrality of the voice.
With the question of whether Amalfitano teaches Wittgenstein and
whether he has asked himself if his hand is a hand, the voice—which
lacks the figural integrity invoked by Moore—appears to confuse
Wittgenstein’s questioning of Moore’s immunological certainty with
a Cartesian sense of indemnificatory reactivity. The voice directs
Amalfitano to calm down, since “calm is the one thing that is
LQFDSDEOHRIEHWUD\LQJXVȥ&ODULI\LQJZKDWKHPHDQVE\
calmness, the paternalistic voice urges Amalfitano to ignore what
lies outside of his control, including both the aural intrusion and the
YLROHQFH WKDW WKUHDWHQV IURP ZLWKRXW DQG ȤGR VRPHWKLQJ XVHIXOȥ
specifically, to wash the dishes and then “check that all the doors
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UHLWHUDWHVWKH&DQGLGHOLNHUHIHUHQFHWRJDUGHQLQJȤZK\QRWJRWR
a nursery and buy seeds and plants and maybe even a little tree to
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emphasis on the immunological space of the house and the role of
pater familias. Although the admonition to do something useful
implies the use of hands, such use is fully subordinate to paternalistic
authority and a restricted domestic economy. However, the voice
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else, including physical materiality and presumptive vehicles of
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and capable of betrayal.
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 97
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$PDOˋWDQRLQVLVWVȤ(WKLFVEHWUD\VXV"7KHVHQVHRIGXW\EHWUD\VXV"
&XULRVLW\EHWUD\VXV"/RYHEHWUD\VXV"9DOXHYDORUvalorEHWUD\VXV"
Art betrays us? Well yes, said the voice, everything, everything betrays
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no love, there is no epic, there is no lyric poetry that isn’t a gurgle or
chuckle of egoists, murmur of cheats, babble of traitors, burble of social
FOLPEHUVZDUEOHRIIDJJRWVȥȤ1RKD\DPLVWDGQRKD\DPRUQRKD\
«SLFDQRKD\SRHV¯DO¯ULFDTXHQRVHDXQJRUJRWHRRXQJRUMHRGHHJR¯VWDV
WULQRGHWUDPSRVRVERUEROOµQGHWUDLGRUHVEXUEXMHRGHDUULELVWDV
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$PDOˋWDQRȢVFHUWDLQW\DERXWKLVKDQGWKLVOLWDQ\RIDVVHUWLRQVLPSOLHV
WKDWHYHU\WKLQJWKDWOLHVRXWVLGHRISKRQRORJRFHQWULFKHWHURQRUPDWLYH
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well as epistemological, is unreliable, elusive and illusive, and ultimately
nothing but noise, an inhuman, inarticulate noise like the chirping of a
bird, or the gurgling of a throat on the verge of death.
$PDOˋWDQRUHMHFWVWKHYRLFHȢVDOOHJDWLRQVXWWHULQJDVKDUSȤ1Rȥ
$OWKRXJKKHGRHVQRWHODERUDWHDWOHDVWDWWKLVSRLQW it is possible
to interpret the force of his negation as a telegraphic protest that he
has in fact read Wittgenstein—whom Bolaño elsewhere calls “greatest
SKLORVRSKHURIWKHWZHQWLHWKFHQWXU\ȥȤ/LWHUDWXUH,OOQHVVȥȠ
and that he has understood him as saying something very different
from what the voice implies. In On Certainty, Wittgenstein rejects the
Moorean certainty of the hand syllogism, in which showing and saying
are presumed to join together in the same structure of commonsense
or knowledge, but, contrary to the voice’s implications, he does so not
WRVXJJHVWWKDWQRNQRZOHGJHLVSRVVLEOHQRUWRDIˋUPWKHVXSHULRULW\
of the questioner who questions everything except the authority of the
question. Rather, he does so, as he does throughout his work, in order
to consider the relationship between knowing, showing, and saying.
Beginning with the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, he focuses on the
limit between what can be said and what can be shown, what Pablo
2\DU]¼QJORVVHVDVWKHLGHDȤWKDWWKHWUXWKRIWKHUHDOLVXQVD\DEOHȥ
and therefore resists metaphysical doctrine, understood as the idea that
WKHWUXWKRIWKHUHDOFDQEHVDLGȤ7HRU¯D\HMHPSORȥȟ,QKLVODWHU
work, Wittgenstein examines this limit not in relation to a transcendent
notion of language, but in relation to how things are said and how this
VD\LQJSHUIRUPVLWVRZQˋQLWXGHLQZKDWKHIDPRXVO\FDOOHGODQJXDJH
98 Witnessing beyond the Human
JDPHVZKLFKKHDOVRWHUPVOHVVIDPRXVO\RUPRUHHQLJPDWLFDOO\ȤIRUPV
RIOLIHȥ-HDQ)UDQ©RLV/\RWDUGVWUHVVHVWKHVHULRXVQHVVRIWKHVHȤJDPHVȥ
“You don’t play around with language. And in this sense, there are no
ODQJXDJHJDPHV7KHUHDUHVWDNHVWLHGWRJHQUHVRIGLVFRXUVHȥThe
Differend: Phrases in Dispute7KHZD\ZHVD\WKLQJVWKHJHQUHVWKDW
structure discourse, vary endlessly, but they are generally oriented to
saying what they can say, rather than acknowledging their limits—what
Lyotard designates with the term differend, the sense that there is an
ȤXQVWDEOHȥUHPDLQGHUWRȤZKDWWKH\FDQSUHVHQWO\SKUDVHȥ
Although Wittgenstein does not have a corresponding term for what
lies outside of language games or generic phrasings, the fact of such
a remainder is a constant concern of his thought. In On Certainty,
he grapples with propositions that assert a correspondence between
VKRZLQJDQGNQRZLQJ0RRUHȤ+HUHDUHP\KDQGV,NQRZWKHZRUOG
H[LVWVȥH[DPLQLQJERWKWKHGLIIHUHQWIDFHWVRIWKHSKUDVLQJRINQRZOHGJH
VHHNLQJVXSSRUWDVVHUWLQJSURSRVLWLRQVFORVHH[DPLQDWLRQRISURRI
HWFDQGWKHTXHVWLRQRIZKDWUHDOO\FDQEHNQRZQDUHWKH\UHDOO\
hands, are they really mine, does my intuition of the object correspond
to knowledge, that is, is the real really sayable? Does my intuition
FRQVWLWXWHDȤSURSHUJURXQGȥIRUNQRZOHGJH">:LWWJHQVWHLQSDUD@
This method of investigation is distinct from skepticism in that it does
not cast doubt on the relationship between knowing and being, but rather
teases out its multiple disjunctions, illustrated by the metaphor of a river
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2\DU]¼QSXVKLQJDWWKHFKDUDFWHUL]DWLRQRI:LWWJHQVHWLQȢVZRUN
as logical empiricism, calls this method a radical form of empiricism,
which recalls Nancy’s description of a perilous traversing, an exposure
WRWKHLQWULQVLFˋQLWXGHRIVXEMHFWREMHFWDQGWKHPHGLXPRIODQJXDJH
2\DU]¼QȤ7HRU¯D\HMHPSORȥ1DQF\ Experience[[
Amalfitano’s staccato rejection of the voice’s assertions can be
seen as stemming from his familiarity with this radical dimension of
Wittgenstein’s work. The voice’s question about his hand concerns a
PRUHJHQHUDOTXHVWLRQRINQRZOHGJHLVLWSRVVLEOHWRNQRZDQ\WKLQJ"
DQGUHODWLRQZKDWNLQGRIUHODWLRQFDQZHKDYHWRZKDWZHGRRUGR
QRW NQRZ" 7KH YRLFH VXJJHVWV WKDW ZH FDQQRW NQRZ DQ\WKLQJ IRU
certain, except that very fact, and in that not-knowing we are either
FUHDWXUHO\OLPLWHGWRXWWHUDQFHZLWKRXWPHDQLQJgorgoteo, gorjeo,
gorgoritoRUZHFDQF\QLFDOO\GHGLFDWHRXUVHOYHVWRRUGHULQJRXUKRXVH
Living and Writing in the Deserts of Modernity 99
taking care of what is ours, and leaving all the rest to its own senseless
VSXWWHULQJ$PDOˋWDQRUHMHFWVWKLVLGHDDOWKRXJKLWDOVRDSSHDUVWRFRPH
from within, from an impulse toward self-interest, as well as from the
SDWULOLQHDOWUDGLWLRQLQZKLFKKHLVWUDLQHGDFNQRZOHGJLQJWKDWZKLOH
the question of what it means to know anything, especially on this
psychic and historico-political frontier, is very much in question, such
questioning does not absolve us of trying to understand, of traversing
WKHOLPLWVRIXQGHUVWDQGLQJHYHQDWRXURZQSHULO(YHQZKHQZHUHWUHDW
into defensive structures such as a domestic economy, or the analogous
Candide-like cultivation of academic knowledge, we are structurally
exposed to what knowledge cannot domesticate. In this sense, the
ȤJHQUHVȥWKDWWKHYRLFHGLVSDUDJHVLQFOXGLQJDUWSRHWU\DQGHYHQORYH
and ethical obligation, can be seen not only as hands that cannot grasp
WKHLUREMHFWVEXWDVEXFFDORSHQLQJVgorgoteoHWF to what they cannot
ȤSUHVHQWO\SKUDVHȥ/\RWDUGDifferend
Contrary to such buccality, and against the backdrop of the brutal
effects of the economies of late modernity, two other scenes in the novel
IHDWXUHWKHˋJXUHRIWKHKDQGLQUHODWLRQWRWKHVWUXFWXUHRIFDSLWDOLVP,Q
one, we are presented again with the familiar strawman of avant-garde
DHVWKHWLFVLQWKHˋJXUHRI(GZLQ-RKQVDQDUWLVWNQRZQSULPDULO\IRUD
SLHFHWKDWLVWRXWHGDVȤWKHPRVWUDGLFDOVHOISRUWUDLWRIRXUWLPHȥ2666,
7KHSLHFHFRQVLVWVRIȤDQHOOLSVLVRIVHOISRUWUDLWVVRPHWLPHV
a spiral of self portraits . . . in the center of which hung the painter’s
PXPPLˋHGULJKWKDQGȥ6XFKDSLHFHUHSUHVHQWVDQRSSRVLWH
H[WUHPHIURPERWKSKLORVRSKLFDOGHWHUPLQDWLRQVRIWKHKDQGDVDWRROIRU
HLWKHUFRQFHSWXDOXQGHUVWDQGLQJRULQGHPQLˋFDWRU\SUDJPDWLVPDQGWKH
totalizing aesthetic represented by Ansky’s idealization of Arcimboldo’s
SRUWUDLWV5DWKHUWKDQSUHKHQVLOLW\RUȤHYHU\WKLQJLQHYHU\WKLQJȥ
ZHKDYHDVHYHUHGKDQGDWWKHFHQWHURIDQXQVWDEOHYRUWH[RIVHOI
representation. Nevertheless, the ellipses seem to suture or frame the
relationship between the part and the whole more than indicate their
incommensurability. Recalling the explanation in “Literature + Illness =
,OOQHVVȥ-RKQVȢVVHOISRUWUDLWVHHPVWRGHSLFWDQLGHQWLW\PRUHLQOLQHZLWK
Baudelaire—self as the unshakable frame of the turbulent voyage—than
0DOODUP«ȠYR\DJHDVH[SRVXUHWRWKHDE\VVRISRVVLELOLW\
The relationship between the ellipses and the hand echoes the
relationship between the self-portrait and the other paintings in
Johns’s exhibition. The others are renderings of an area of London
100 Witnessing beyond the Human
what the third leg of the human table is . . . Life is demand and supply,
or supply and demand, that’s what it all boils down to, but you can’t live
with just that. A third leg is needed to keep the table from collapsing into
the garbage pit of history, which in turn is permanently collapsing into
WKHJDUEDJHSLWRIWKHYRLGlos basurales del vacío6RWDNHQRWH7KLVLV
WKHHTXDWLRQVXSSO\GHPDQGPDJLF
He then shows Amalfitano his hand that lacks several fingers and
downs a shot of vodka. The dream includes a number of overlapping
allusions to body parts and the economy. The reference to the legs of
the human table evokes Marx’s description of the dancing table, in
which he suggests that commodities are imbued with a kind of life
that is not only analogous to but may even surpass that of humans
0DU[,WDOVREULQJVWRPLQGWKH6SKLQ[ȢVULGGOHUHJDUGLQJWKH
ages of Man, in which humans walk successively on four, two, and
three legs, with the third leg being a prosthesis that compensates
IRUKXPDQLQˋUPLW\6RSKRFOHVQ)LQDOO\LWDSSHDUVWRUHIHUWRD
short essay by Virgilio Piñera on the Marquis de Sade in which he
describes the dark impulses challenging humanistic normativity as
RQHRIWKHOHJVRIWKHȤKXPDQWDEOHȥ3L³HUD The assertion that
KXPDQOLIHFRQVLVWVRIȤVXSSO\GHPDQGPDJLFȥHYRNHVIXUWKHUPRUH
$GDP 6PLWKȢV ILJXUH RI DQ LQYLVLEOH KDQG WKDW PDJLFDOO\ FUHDWHV
VRFLDOEHQHILWRXWRIFDSLWDOLVWLFVHOILQWHUHVW6PLWK7RJHWKHU
with the other allusions, the association between Smith’s metaphor
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more ferocious than Smith ever imagined, but also that it involves a
certain autoimmune reactivity that destroys components of human
life in order to preserve and promote an epic economy that takes on a
life of its own even while leaving death and devastation in its wake,
H[HPSOLˋHGLQWKLVERRNE\WKHPXWLODWHGERGLHVRIZRPHQGLVFDUGHG
in the basurales of the free-trade zone of Santa Teresa.
The passages involving the figure of the hand, including that of
the disembodied voice, Johns’s self-portrait, and Amalfitano’s dream
about Yeltsin, all concern related forms of grasping, in which the
acquisition of wealth and immunological protection are purchased at
WKHH[SHQVHRIWKHȤWKHSDLQRIRWKHUVȥand the alterity that inflicts
HYHU\LPPXQRORJLFDOVWUXFWXUHȤSDLQZKLFKLVORQJDQGQDWXUDODQG
ZKLFKDOZD\VWULXPSKVȥ2666, $OWKRXJK$PDOILWDQRGRHV
102 Witnessing beyond the Human
(XFOLGLQK\SHUEROLFJHRPHWU\WKHUHLVDQLQILQLWHQXPEHURISDUDOOHOV
possible for any given point, and in elliptical geometry there are no
parallels possible, since every line intersects every other line.
7KHUHIHUHQFHWRQRQ(XFOLGHDQJHRPHWU\UHFDOOV:DOWHU%HQMDPLQȢV
invocation of Riemann in his discussion of Brecht. Samuel Weber
brings this to our attention in Benjamin’s –abilities, in which he glosses
Benjamin’s interpretation of the key function of Brecht’s epic theater as
a citational form of gesture that indicates the convergence of actuality
DQGYLUWXDOLW\&RPSDULQJWUDGLWLRQDOWKHDWHUWR(XFOLGHDQJHRPHWU\
LQZKLFKWKH$ULVWRWHOLDQLGHDOVRIXQLˋHGDFWLRQDQGDFDWKDUWLFHQG
WDNHSODFHLQDVSDFHWKDWLVXQGHUVWRRGWREHȤKRPRJHQHRXVȥDQG
ȤHPSW\ȥ%UHFKWȢVGUDPDVDUHFKDUDFWHUL]HGE\DȤFXUYHG5LHPDQQLDQ
VSDFHGHˋQHGDQGSXQFWXDWHGE\WKRVHLQWHUUXSWLRQVRIFRQWLQXLW\WKDW
Benjamin calls Zustände, di-stances that gesticulate and whose being
here and now is determined by their virtual capacity to be there and thenȥ
:HEHUȟ
Re-enacting an artistic action by Marcel Duchamp, Amalfitano
hangs Dieste’s book on the clothesline in his backyard, an emblematic
line of domestic economy on which our prosopopoeic garments are
renewed. The suspension of Dieste’s book from this line, alongside
such garments, constitutes a citational gesture toward the limits of
the immunological to the Zustände that both traverse and surround
them. Such a traversal is anthropomorphized in the figure of the wind,
which is described as blowing over the dead bodies of the murdered
women and the prosopopoeic catachresis of the desert landscape
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clothesline as though trying them on, and ruffling through the pages
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for thinking the traversals and intersections of immunological
structures, although it necessarily blows apart its very figuration,
along with the ideal of conceptual comprehension or other forms of
grasping. It is like the currents and ripples that seem to disperse the
parts of Archimboldi’s body as an infant, an effect that he recreated
DVDQDGXOWLQQDUUDWLYHVWKDWȤGLGQȢWOHDGDQ\ZKHUHȥD
buccal opening of internalizing figuration which, like Kafka’s aimless
paths, constitutes the condition of possibility of encounter. The
JHVWXUHWRWKHSDUDOOHOVDQGLQWHUVHFWLRQVRISRVW(XFOLGHDQJHRPHWU\
extends this association between disarticulation and encounter, self
104 Witnessing beyond the Human
DQGRWKHU$VWKHGHQWLVWVD\VLQȤ'HQWLVWȥZHDUHQHYHUDORQHEXWDUH
always exposed to di-stance and difference, which includes the long
history of pain and the experience of finitude. Amalfitano’s hanging
of Dieste’s book can be seen as a gestural citation of Bolaño’s own
citational gestures to the alter-immunological di-stances that traverse
and puncture the immunological structures and ostensibly seamless
expanses of late modernity.
Q 4 Q
Image and Alterity Beyond the Sepulture
of the Human
(XJHQLR'LWWERUQȢV3KRWRFROODJHV
([KXPDWLRQZLOOSURGXFHDGHˋQLWLYHGLVDSSHDUDQFH
—Willy Thayer
I invented these folded paintings to get out from this place, to be in the
world. . . . They are like messages in a bottle.
Ƞ(XJHQLR'LWWERUQ
105
along with the unresolvable tensions it evokes, including “recuerdo
\ROYLGRODWHQFLD\PXHUWHUHYHODFLµQ\RFXOWDPLHQWRSUXHED\
GHQHJDFLµQVXVWUDFFLµQ\UHVWLWXFLµQȥInsubordinación
This chapter considers the ways in which humanist emplacement
is challenged in visual representation, primarily photography and the
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other critics, notes that photography became a privileged medium to
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debates about the nature of representation among artists and thinkers
GXULQJWKHGLFWDWRUVKLSInsubordinación 2QWKHRQHKDQGSKRWRJ-
raphy served an important documentary function, revealing the effects
of clandestine violence in opposition to the dictatorship’s sanitized
accounts of social order and economic progress. As important as this
visual activism was, it often overlooked epistemological tensions in the
LQWHUHVWRISROLWLFDOHIˋFDF\DIˋUPLQJSKRWRJUDSK\ȢVFDSDFLWLHVIRUUHYH-
lation, proof, and restitution, its frame serving as a humanistic home
Figure 4.1: (XJHQLR 'LWWERUQ The 6th History of the Human Face (Black and Red
Camino), Airmail Painting No. 70 3KRWR VLONVFUHHQ RQ WHQ VHFWLRQV RI
QRQZRYHQIDEULF[LQFKHV,PDJHFRXUWHV\RI$OH[DQGHUDQG%RQLQ1HZ<RUN
Image and Alterity Beyond the Sepulture of the Human 107
for the “memory and forgetting, latency and death, . . . revelation and
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'LWWERUQˋJXUHGSURPLQHQWO\SUREHGWKHHSLVWHPRORJLFDODQGHWKLFDO
complexities of photographic representation, resisting the sense of
it as a site of revelation and recuperation of what was destroyed and
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FRQFHUQHGZLWKDVHQVHRIȤKLVWRULFDOPRXUQLQJȥXQGHUVWRRGQRWRQO\
as a relationship to the past or to individual deaths and disappearances,
but to totalizing paradigms of history, truth, and national or ideological
FRPPRQDOLW\Insubordinación 2 She describes this work of mourning
as an unending and inconclusive acknowledgment of the present’s
YXOQHUDELOLW\WRDOOWKDWGRHVQRWˋWLQWRDQLQWHJUDOVHQVHRIQDWLRQDO
presence. In what follows I will explore this sense of historical mourning,
VWUHVVLQJLWVHQJDJHPHQWZLWKWKHKLVWRULFDORUˋQLWHQDWXUHRIHYHU\
relationship, including, quintessentially, the relationships between self
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IDFWȥEHWZHHQVLJQDQGUHIHUHQWDVRSSRVHGWRWKHV\PEROLQZKLFK
the correspondence is only imputed, and the icon, in which it is
based on likeness. Peirce illustrates the index with the examples of a
weathercock and the footprint of a killer beside the body of his victim.
In both cases, the relationship between the sign and the referent is a
physical one: in the former, the wind pushes the weathercock in one
direction, and the weathercock signals that the wind is blowing in
WKDWGLUHFWLRQLQWKHODWWHUWKHIRRWSULQWE\WKHFRUSVHVLJQDOVWKDWD
person had been there.7
From its earliest conception, photography was associated with a
similar physical correspondence, because its images are direct effects of
light hitting a light-sensitive sheet. Hubertus von Amelunxen notes that
LQWKHLQYHQWRURIWKHQHJDWLYHSURFHVV:LOOLDP+HQU\)R[7DOERW
GHVFULEHGSKRWRJUDSK\DVDȤSHQFLORIQDWXUHȥLQZKLFKWKHLPDJHLV
produced directly, “by the effect of the light, and not engravings after
WKHLUPRGHOȥVHFWLRQ,;,Q$QGU«%D]LQIDPRXVO\HFKRHGWKLV
sentiment when he described photography as sharing, “by virtue of
the very process of its becoming, the being of the model of which it
LVWKHUHSURGXFWLRQLWLVWKHPRGHOȥTWGLQ.UDXVV$PHOXQ[HQ
stresses that this disavowal of the difference between an object and its
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to do away with temporal and spatial dislocation in order to create a
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UHDOVHFWLRQV;,9,,,,QWKLVVHQVHWKHLQGH[LFDOLQWHUSUHWDWLRQRID
photograph can be understood as a kind of police vision, in which, to
UHWXUQWR3HLUFHȢVH[DPSOHRIWKHLQGH[LFDOVLJQˋQGLQJDIRRWSULQWQH[W
to the corpse is as good as nabbing the killer.
Documentary photography is widely viewed as an instrument of
resistance to police order, and as Richard observes, this was especially
so in post-dictatorship Chile, where it was regarded as a means to
UHYHDOWKHHIIHFWVRIFODQGHVWLQHYLROHQFHDQGFRXQWHURIˋFLDOYHUVLRQVRI
history. In spite of its strategic uses, which are undeniable, it structurally
imitates the sense of an indexical presence. Although it seems to be
oriented toward the other—other bodies, other histories—it effectively
internalizes, and thereby denies, the other. Documentation aims to
capture something the way it really is in order to reduce the distance
between the photographed scene or object and the spectator of the
photograph. This is similar to Benjamin’s account of the empathy or
Einfühlung involved in historicism, in which the person contemplating
112 Witnessing beyond the Human
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+LVWRU\ȥ$PHOXQ[HQGHVFULEHVWKLVDVDSK\VLFDOVHQVHRIHPDQDWLRQ
from an origin, which he illustrates with the metaphors of translation
and inheritance, the photograph providing a “translation of a spatio-
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9,,,:LWKWKHVHDQDORJLHVWKHRWKHUREVHUYHGLQWKHSKRWRJUDSKLV
approached as an extension or even foundation of the self.
.UDXVVREVHUYHVWKDWLQWKHV1RUWK$PHULFDQDUWLVWVEHJDQWR
push at the relationship between photography and indexicality, not
to reject it, but to refashion its terms—a refashioning that, although
she does not make this explicit, resists subjection to a police vision
that professes to capture its subjects in representation. She links this
transmuted sense of the index somewhat unexpectedly to the work
of Marcel Duchamp. Krauss suggests that the matrix of ideas that
DUWLVWVLQWKHVVKDUHGZLWK'XFKDPSȠVKHLQVLVWVWKDWVKHLVQRW
LQWHUHVWHGLQDUWKLVWRULFDOLQˌXHQFHSHUVHȠFRQFHUQVWKHȤEUHDNGRZQȥ
RI UHSUHVHQWDWLRQ WR ȤORFDWH WKH VHOI LQ UHODWLRQ WR LWV ZRUOGȥ
Duchamp, together with other avant-garde artists such as Man Ray,
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SDSHUWRSURGXFHDQLPSUHVVLRQWRVWUHVVWKHIDFWWKDWPDWHULDOREMHFWV
exist, but that their representations do not, as Amelunxen describes,
WXUQGDUNQHVVLQWROLJKWDVȤVLPXOWDQHRXVUHFROOHFWLRQȥRIZKDWLVJRQH
VHFWLRQ9,,,'XFKDPSGHGLFDWHGKLPVHOIWRH[SORULQJWKHHIIHFWRI
WLPHRQUHSUHVHQWDWLRQIRULQVWDQFHZLWKKLVVRFDOOHGȤGXVWEUHHGLQJȥ
in which accumulated dust serves as an index of the passage of time.
Furthermore, his work suggests that reality is never fully present to
LWVHOIDQLGHDH[HPSOLˋHGE\DSLHFHWLWOHGWith My Tongue in My Cheek,
which consists of the distorted impression of Duchamp’s face in plaster,
his tongue clearly in his cheek. This work suggests that indices, even
ones as apparently straightforward as a facial cast, should never be
WDNHQȤDWIDFHYDOXHȥ7KHUHLVDGLVWDQFHEHWZHHQWKHLPDJHDQGZKDW
LWSXUSRUWVWRUHSUHVHQWWKHH[SUHVVLRQȤWRQJXHLQFKHHNȥVXJJHVWLQJD
playful equivocation or verbal doubling. Krauss stresses, furthermore,
WKDWȤWDNHQOLWHUDOO\ȥDWRQJXHLQFKHHNFDQDOVRLQGLFDWHDORVVRIFDSDFLW\
for speech, an impediment to the subject’s mastery over representation,
DQG WKHUHIRUH DOVR RYHU KLPVHOI 6KH VXVWDLQV WKDW 'XFKDPSȢV
exploration of the index is always accompanied by similar disruptions of
subjective and objective self-identity. His work was driven by an effort
to demonstrate how we cannot fully know or represent ourselves or
Image and Alterity Beyond the Sepulture of the Human 113
the world in which we live, but that nevertheless things exist, and they
impose themselves on our structures of representation. Krauss describes
KRZ1RUWK$PHULFDQDUWLVWVLQWKHVHQGHDYRUHGWRLQGLFDWHDVLPLODU
ȤLPSRVLWLRQRIWKLQJVȥRQPRGHVRIXQGHUVWDQGLQJLQFOXGLQJHVSHFLDOO\
those modes equated with evidence, such as photography.
,Q &KLOH LQ WKH V WKH desaparecidos were primar y among
WKH ȤWKLQJVȥ LPSRVLQJ WKHPVHOYHV RQ TXHVWLRQV RI VHOI ZRUOG DQG
representation. This imposition is not limited to their literal absence
or the conditions of clandestine violence, which could in fact be
revealed, but concerns the effects of their disappearance on history
and relationality. As in North America and elsewhere, artists in Chile
turned to photography in order to indicate the impossibility of complete
UHYHODWLRQDQGWKHUHSUHVHQWDWLRQDOVXEMHFWRUVorbildLQWKHSURFHVV
of disappearing, and the incontrovertible fact that things—materiality,
KLVWRU\ DOWHULW\ȠH[LVW and that they alter and disturb any intact
sense of self or presence. As opposed to the ideal of “simultaneous
UHFROOHFWLRQȥ$PHOXQ[HQZKLFKHIIHFWLYHO\GHQLHVWLPHWKLVDOWHUQDWH
PRGHRILQGH[LFDOLW\LQGLFDWHVDQȤXQVHDOHGWLPHȥDQGVSDFHWKDWHOXGH
UHGHPSWLYHFORVXUH5LFKDUG Insubordinación
,DSSHDOWR$PHOXQ[HQȢVZRUNLQSDUWEHFDXVHRIWKHVWDUNQHVVRU
LQVWUXFWLYHRYHUVLPSOLˋFDWLRQRIKLVGHVFULSWLRQRIWKHUHODWLRQVKLS
between photography and indexicality, but primarily because he is one
of the most interesting proponents of the idea that we are living in a
post-indexical age.10 This claim, shared by a growing number of critics,
throws into relief what is at stake in the distinction between different
conceptions of indexicality. He avers that the ideology of the index has
EHHQRYHUWXUQHGE\WKHDGYHQWRIGLJLWDOSKRWRJUDSK\DFODLPWKDW
can easily be extended to any form of mechanical reproduction of the
photograph, including techniques commonly employed by Dittborn,
VXFKDVSKRWRFRS\LQJDQGVLONVFUHHQLQJ$PHOXQ[HQGHVFULEHVWKLV
FKDQJHZLWKDVHQVHRIJLGG\H[FLWHPHQWȠZKLFKKHDOVRTXDOLˋHVDV
terrifying—proposing that digital photography “offers new possibilities
IRUPRQWDJHȥVHFWLRQ,,,$OWKRXJKKHLOOXVWUDWHVWKLVSRWHQWLDOZLWKD
UHIHUHQFHWR(LVHQVWHLQZKRGHVFULEHGKLVFLQHPDWLFXVHRIPRQWDJHDV
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digital montage is much more extreme: it is based on “sets of data capable
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longer bound by the presumed continuity of time and space, which is
114 Witnessing beyond the Human
the invention that invents us. For the other is always another origin of
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[[[Y Derrida suggests that photography demonstrates this exposure
WKURXJKWKHLQGHˋQLWHGHIHUUDOdemeureH[HPSOLˋHGE\DOWKRXJKQRW
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of the perceptible referent. It gives the prerogative to the other, opens
WKHLQˋQLWHXQFHUWDLQW\RIDUHODWLRQWRWKHFRPSOHWHO\RWKHUDUHODWLRQ
ZLWKRXWUHODWLRQȥTWGLQ5LFKWHUȤ8QVHWWOLQJ3KRWRJUDSK\.DIND
'HUULGD0RVHVȥ5LFKWHUVWUHVVHVWKHZD\WKDWSKRWRJUDSK\LQ
WKLVVHQVHVWDJHVWKHTXHVWLRQRIUHODWLRQWKHȤUHODWLRQWRUHODWLRQȥ
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Ȥ8QVHWWOLQJ3KRWRJUDSK\ȥ'HUULGDFRQWHQGVWKDWVXFKTXHVWLRQV
“condition . . . every ‘social bond,’ every questioning, all knowledge,
SHUIRUPDWLYLW\DQGHYHU\WHOHVFLHQWLˋFSHUIRUPDQFHLQFOXGLQJWKRVH
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Roland Barthes is widely regarded as a naïve apologist for a
straightforward conception of the indexical nature of photography,
DQGDVXEMHFWLYHRUȤLQYHQWLYHȥUHFHSWLRQRIWKLVLQGH[LFDOLW\ This is no
doubt based on his assertions that the photograph “attest[s] that what
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notwithstanding, Barthes’s Camera Lucida is deeply concerned with what
Derrida calls the question of photography’s relationship to witnessing,
the way that photography poses the question of what witnessing is—
beyond a belief in direct representation and the subjective authority
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collapsing of the difference between distance and proximity, concealment
and revelation, or past and present, as in the classical sense of the index,
nor an inventive or calculated re-assembly of them, as in the notion of
the transcendence of photography’s indexical dimension.
Against declarations of Camera LucidaȢV REVROHVFHQFH (GXDUGR
&DGDYD DQG 3DROD &RUW«V5RFFD SURSRVH ZLWK DQ H[SOLFLW QRG WR
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indexicality that is based not on a direct reference to the past or to an
absent other, but on a vulnerability to the traces of time, death, and the
other. While many readers have stressed the apparent oppositions in
Barthes’s text—between image and referent, self and other, living and
GHDGSUHVHQWDQGSDVWWKDWZKLFKFDQEHXQGHUVWRRGVWXGLXPDQG
116 Witnessing beyond the Human
HVSHFLDOO\WKHGLVSXWHEHJXQLQWKHVFRQFHUQLQJWKHUHODWLRQVKLS
between art and politics in the Avanzada, represented primarily by Pablo
Oyarzún’s and Willy Thayer’s critiques of Richard’s work.
Ronald Kay’s Del espacio de acáSXEOLVKHGLQ&KLOHLQWKHVDPH
year as Camera Lucida, complements and extends the scope of Barthes’s
essay. Kay describes the potential of photography in general—and, in the
latter half of the book, Dittborn’s work in particular— to disrupt what
KHFDOOVWKHȤGRJPDRIWKHRSWLFRIUHSUHVHQWDWLRQȥLQZKLFKLPDJHVDUH
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Ȥ(OWLHPSRTXHVHGLYLGHȥȤ7KH7LPHWKDW'LYLGHV>,WVHOI@ȥSXEOLVKHG
RULJLQDOO\LQ*HUPDQLQ.D\GHVFULEHVWKLVGRJPDDVIRUPLQJWKH
basis of a visual ideology shared by institutional and economic powers
WKDWGRPHVWLFDWHKXPDQOLIHDQGQDWXUDOKLVWRU\LQWRWKHˌDWVSDFHRI
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that time in the photograph refuses to disappear, even in the apparent
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to time’s own internal divisions, exposing and engaging with “energías
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5DWKHUWKDQVKRZLQJDPRPHQWȤWKHZD\LWUHDOO\ZDVȥ%HQMDPLQ
Ȥ&RQFHSWRI+LVWRU\ȥRUWKHZD\LWVKRXOGEHDFFRUGLQJWRWKLVRU
that ideal, the photograph disturbs both past and present, revealing
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WZRXQUHODWHGPRPHQWVWRJHWKHULQȤDQLQWHUFKURQLFPRPHQWȥLQZKLFK
“both orders enter into a reciprocal relation of quotation and become,
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the photographic process rips a scene out of its context and opens it to
new and indeterminate contexts, “toward other ages, toward other sites,
WRZDUGRWKHUVLWXDWLRQVȥ
Kay suggests that in this way the photograph always includes within
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PLUDGD GH XQ WHVWLJR SRWHQFLDOȥ QRW MXVW WKH UHDO SRVVLELOLW\ WKDW
someone will see and acknowledge a given image, but a structural
form of testimony that exceeds both individuality and consciousness.
Kay extends Benjamin’s notion of an optical unconsciousness to include
a virtuality that is inevitably elicited by every photograph, and which
inhabits not only the photograph itself, but also the event to which it
UHIHUV7KLVSKRWRJUDSKLFYLUWXDOLW\LVFRPSDUHGWRODQJXDJHȠ
ȤZULWLQJla grafíaLQWKHHQLJPDRIWKHYLVLEOHȥȠLQWKHVHQVHRI
a communicability and interrelatednessness that only ever appear in
118 Witnessing beyond the Human
LQLW'HUULGDThe Post Card: From Socrates to Freud and Beyond
Marchant explains how this epistolary aspect of photography—he avers
WKDWOHWWHUVDUHȤWKHPRVWGDQJHURXVRISKRWRJUDSKVȥȠLVPDQLIHVW
in a simultaneous distance and proximity of the image, described by
the Heideggerian term Entfernung ȤGLVWDQFLQJ a-lejamiento RI D
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the act of representation re-enacts the interplay of distance and
proximity intrinsic to every relation, the distances inherent to every
presumption of familiarity, and the intimacy that underlies apparent
distances and differences.
Pablo Oyarzún expands on the ideas of both Kay and Marchant in
KLVHVVD\Ȥ,PDJHQ\GXHORȥȤ,PDJHDQG0RXUQLQJȥIRFXVLQJPRUHRQ
the way artists associated with the Avanzada—and while Dittborn is
not named explicitly, he seems to be especially implicated—subverted
the humanist dogma of visual presence or preservation. Oyarzún
structures his account of the Avanzada’s work with photography around
WZRSULPDU\ˋJXUHVparpadeo and piedad, blinking and compassion.
He explains that the appeal of the medium of photography during
the dictatorship was related to what he terms parpadeo. He draws the
notion of parpadeoIURPDSDVVDJHRIȤ'HOHVSDFLRGHDF£ȥLQZKLFK
Kay describes the camera shutter as a prosthetic exteriorization of the
alternation between optical consciousness and the optical unconscious.
Oyarzún describes how this idea of mortal and mechanical blinking
moves us from an ideological and metaphysical sense of visual capture,
ȤVHHLQJLVKDYLQJVHHQȥDORQJZLWKLWVFRUROODU\ȤZKDWLVVHHQLVLQ
LWVHOIYLVLEOHȥImagen y dueloWRDVHQVHRIVHHLQJDVLQWULQVLFDOO\
GLVFRQWLQXRXV DQG LQFRPSOHWH ȤVHHLQJ LVJOLPSVLQJȥ entrever,
OLWHUDOO\VHHLQJEHWZHHQ7KHGLVUXSWLRQRIWKHparpadeo indicates
ERWKȤH[FHVVDQGDEVHQFHȥERWKZKDWFDQQRWEHVHHQDQGWKHIDFWWKDW
what can be seen does not necessarily tell all—the idea that, as Kay avers,
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that while the parpadeo is a point of non-knowledge, it is paradoxically
WKHSRLQWIURPZKLFKDOONQRZOHGJHHPHUJHV20
He pairs the visual metaphor of parpadeo with an affective, material
RQH(ODERUDWLQJRQDQHVVD\E\0DUFKDQW2\DU]¼QFXULRXVO\FRPSDUHV
the Avanzada’s often transient and insubstantial invocations of the
present to a weighty gem of canonical art, Michaelangelo’s Pietá21
As is well known, the Pietá represents the Biblical scene in which
120 Witnessing beyond the Human
Mary holds up her son’s dead body after its removal from the cross.
Michaelangelo’s depiction of this moment emphasizes the heaviness and
fragility of Christ’s body, to which Mary responds with a look of great
tenderness.22 Oyarzún suggests that the works of the Avanzada perform
a gesture similar to the one represented in the Pietá. Like Mary, they
seek to hold up the creaturely body, often brutally made more creaturely
by the dictatorship. They grasp it in the moment of its fall, suspending
and making visible its agony and the injustice it embodies:
PRUHUHFHQWȤ/LWHUDWXUD\HVFHSWLFLVPRȥȤ/LWHUDWXUHDQG6NHSWLFLVPȥ
he describes how from its inception literature has performed a Skeptical
suspension of truth and judgment, expressed in its most radical form
in the genre of the essay, which he says “remains always in suspense
permanece siempre en suspensoLWVVWDWXVLVWKXVSHUHQQLDOO\
SURYLVLRQDOȥ His suggestion of permanence is a bit misleading,
since such suspension is not a permanent state, but an active, essayistic
engagement with the differed and differential, but always potentially
imminent, nature of existence.
Oyarzún draws some of these ideas together in his “Tesis breves sobre
DUWH\SRO¯WLFDHQOD«SRFDGHODHOLSVLVGHODREUDȥȤ%ULHI7KHVHVRQ$UW
DQG3ROLWLFVLQWKH(UDRIWKH(OOLSVLVRIWKH:RUNȥSXEOLVKHGLQ
a volume titled Arte y Política that he co-edited with Richard. Likely
intended as an intervention into the longstanding debate between
Richard and Thayer, Oyarzún’s position overlaps with Thayer’s, but
only up to a point. Describing the relations among criticism, art, and
VXVSHQVLRQ2\DU]¼QH[SODLQVKRZPRGHUQDYDQWJDUGHDQGȤSRVW
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nearly closed circuit of consumption and communication—“consumption
DVFRPPXQLFDWLRQDQGFRPPXQLFDWLRQDVFRQVXPSWLRQȥȤ7HVLV
EUHYHVȥ He argues that they ultimately lack the force to disrupt or
resist this circuitry and are inevitably subsumed into its logic.
Nevertheless, Oyarzún proposes that art and criticism have an
elliptical or interstitial function, through which they can open up,
WKRXJKDNLQGRIFULWLFDODQGVHOIFULWLFDOXQZRUNLQJdesobramiento
“a suspensive moment, a small dehiscence, a minimal dilation of the
breathless tempoRIPDUNHWFLUFXODWLRQȥȤXQPRPHQWRVXVSHQVLYRXQD
SHTXH³DGHVKLFHQVLDXQDP¯QLPDGLODWDFLµQGHOtempo sin respiro de
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unworking is not only internal to the work itself, with both spectator
DQGZRUOGGDQJOLQJSDVVLYHO\RXWVLGHRILWDVWKRXJKFDXJKWLQDZHEred
of incomprehensionWKLVLPDJHLQSDUWLFXODUVHHPVWRHYRNH7KD\HUȢV
GHVFULSWLRQRIWKHDUWFULWLFW\SLQJXVHOHVVO\RQWKHVKHOORIWKHDUWZRUN
but constitutes “the call or convocation of a subject to come into being
in that place . . . certainly not as concrete presence, but rather as a
transitory trace, as the conatus of relation, as a non-consumable enquiry
RUUHTXHVWIRUFRPPXQLW\ȥȤODLQWHUSHODFLµQRFRQYRFDFLµQGHXQVXMHWR
a constituirse en ese lugar, . . . ciertamente no como presencia maciza,
VLQRFRPRHVER]RWUDQVLWRULRFRQDWRGHUHODFLµQFRPRLQWHUURJDFLµQR
126 Witnessing beyond the Human
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that the suspension is situated both within the work of art and between
work and world, including, although not limited to, the work of criticism.
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but as a singular moment that is always in relation to both itself and
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circulation of market logic in a number of ways: exceeding the artwork’s
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encounter—the very possibility of community—beyond consumption or
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Although he does not elaborate on the relation between witnessing
and the encounter with alterity convoked by the unworking of art, his
use of this term witness—which is very much implied in his description
of the twinned effects of parpadeo and piedadLQȤ,PDJHQ\GXHORȥ
and which does in fact appear in his writing on Dittborn, which I will
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the introduction to Arte y políticaWRLQWHUURJDWH7KHWHUPVHUYHVWR
punctuate the potential ethico-political function of art and thought
that seeks neither to reveal or invent the other, or deny its accessibility,
but rather to address it as something that can never fully be known, a
ȤQRQFRQVXPDEOHHQTXLU\ȥRIUHODWLRQDOLW\WKHIDFWthat there are others.
Oyarzún’s association between suspension and testimonial exposure
to the other is markedly different from the mode of suspension invoked
by Thayer, a suspension that is not a vital limit that forms the condition
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for instance the anasemic stratum of art that cannot be touched by the
critical word, and the breath that may stir within the ruins of thought.
Thayer at times seems to insist on its absoluteness, describing how the
SULPDU\VWUDWXPRIDUWSHUVLVWVLQpersevera enRUVXEVLVWVEHQHDWK
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lo primario fuese, ello mismo, el único testigo anterior al narcisismo
de la palabra que no deja de hablar de sí cuando supone hablar de
RWURȥ>7KD\HUȤ9DQJXDUGLD@ Such a persistent separation differs
Image and Alterity Beyond the Sepulture of the Human 127
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WHUPȤDQDVHPLDȥLQWKHHW\PRORJLFDOVHQVHRIDVLJQWKDWVLJQLILHV
ȤEDFNȥRUDJDLQDQHZ0LFKDHO/HYLQHGHVFULEHVWKLVQRWLRQRIDVHFUHW
VLJQRULQGH[einen heimliche IndexDVDFDOORUDGGUHVVWKDWDQQRXQFHV
the ongoing survival of the past and appeals to the potential for a
PHHWLQJEHWZHHQSDVWDQGIXWXUHA Weak Messianic Power ȟ+H
stresses that this meeting—what Kay called an interchronic moment—is
not so much a coming together of future and past, but a coming “about
one another, . . . in such a way that circumvents conventional modalities
RISUHVHQFHDQGKROGVWLPHRSHQWRWKHFRPLQJRIDQRWKHUA Weak
Messianic Power ,QWKLVVHQVHWKHODFXQDHRIKLVWRU\ȠHFKRHVWUDFHV
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of a secret circulation, which involves the possibility of reception
or encounter. This activation is in fact acknowledged by Oyarzún’s
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not developed. He describes piedadDVVKHOWHUDQGSURWHFWLRQcustodia,
acogida, resguardo, protecciónEXWDOVRDNLQGRIVHQGLQJRQremisión,
envío,QFLGHQWDOO\WKLVVHQVHRIȤSLHW\ȥUHVRQDWHVZLWK%DUWKHVȢVXVH
of the term piété at the end of Camera Lucida. There he turns from the
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he describes as a mad, passionate gathering of lacunae—“what is dead,
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does not level differences and distances between self and other, past
DQGSUHVHQWDVDKLVWRULFLVWIRUPRIHPSDWK\%HQMDPLQȢVEinfühlung,
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The painter owes his works to the human face, unique and generic in its
somatic constitution . . . hunting grounds of photogenia . . . The painter
owes his works to the body of the human person deported in a photogenic
state to the collective space of the magazine, consecration of its perpetual
H[SRVXUHFinal de pistaFDWDORJ
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debe sus trabajos al cuerpo de la persona humana deportado en estado
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desamparo.
Figure 4.7: (XJHQLR'LWWERUQLa sagrada familia, from Final de Pista GHWDLO
,PDJHFRXUWHV\RI(XJHQLR'LWWERUQ
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in the audience, and extended indefinitely in the virtual televised
audience as well as the virtual observers of Dittborn’s citation of this
image, performs a similar raising up of the fallen in the form of a
humane or humanitarian reaction, a concern for the other based on a
presumption of commonality, which in turn reinforces and redeems our
sense of humanity. In a way, as in Foucault’s discussion of Velazquez’s
Las Meninas, we—the spectators of the pista of deportation—are the
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our concern for the other redeems him in a shared sense of humanity.
This sense of humanity misses structural differences such as the fact
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and racially and geopolitically marginalized, as well as the fact that
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undeniable alterity.
An interesting detail in the scene of Paret’s knockout, of which
Dittborn may or may not have been aware, adds an additional element
to this sense of humanitarian sovereignty. It turns out that the light-
VNLQQHGRIˋFLDOOHDQLQJRYHU3DUHWLVDQ$IULFDQ$PHULFDQGRFWRUDIDFW
that adds extra weight to the tension between the series of oppositions
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expense of socio-political differences, this in-visible similarity can
be understood as overshadowing the evident differences in the scene,
including the fundamental difference between the structure of the
anthropo-theological and the creaturely body, which always exceeds and
disturbs its pistas. The fact that this man is a doctor on the staff of the
boxing commission adds another dimension to the secular salvation of
WKHIDOOHQ$WHFKQLFDOSUDFWLWLRQHURIKXPDQLWDULDQLVPRUWKHKXPDQH
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will rise to play again, and, in the spirit of medical professionals present
during torture sessions, for determining that the violence sanctioned
by the game does not kill the players.
Dittborn’s recurrent use of this image is not intended simply to
Image and Alterity Beyond the Sepulture of the Human 141
7KHˋUVWPHGLDWLRQZRXOGEHWKH79VFUHHQRQZKLFKLUUXSWHGWKHLPDJH
of Beny [sic] Kid Paret lying in agony on the canvas at Madison Square
Garden. A UPI [United Press International] photographer photographed
the scene from the TV screen, and later the UPI sent this photo to the
&KLOHDQPDJD]LQHȤ*RO\*ROȥZKLFKSULQWHGDQGSXEOLVKHGLW$FRS\RI
WKLVPDJD]LQHHQGHGXS\HDUVODWHULQDVHFRQGKDQGERRNVWRUHZKHUH,
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UHSULQWLQJLWPDQ\WLPHVMapa
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that sepulture is never complete, that human life is not contained by
the pistas of deportation.
This spectral dynamic is indicated within the image by the inclusion of
the television frame. The anachronistic curvature of the frame functions
as a temporal and spatial fold, a reminder of the fact of mediation that
GLVUXSWVWKHFROODSVLQJRIGLVWDQFHSURPLVHGE\WKHWHUPȤWHOHYLVLRQȥ
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lamentation, like Christ’s sepulture in the apocryphal translation, is left
open, to elude and interrogate the secular narratives of humanitarian
UHGHPSWLRQ,QWKHYHUVLRQRIWKH Pietá ˋJXUH,LQDGGLWLRQWR
the frame within the frame, two other subtle pistasPDUNVRUWUDFHV
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barely visible, but noted in the list of materials—sprinkled on the surface
142 Witnessing beyond the Human
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attempts to represent Latin America, which Dittborn suggests are based
on a similar kind of epic economy as colonial expropriation, constitute
a grotesque distortion of life and history in Latin America.
For Dittborn, the motif of travel concerns different forms of
HPSODFHPHQWDQGWKHLUSRWHQWLDOGLVUXSWLRQVȤ(SLFȥQDPHVDIRUPRI
voyage that constitutes and reinforces a specular relationship between
VHOIDQGRWKHUDVZHOODVVHOIDQGJHRFXOWXUDOVHOI7KHWHUPȤFDULFDWXUHȥ
stresses the way that such economic emplacement occurs in and as
representation, a journey toward the self or other with an aim to uncover
and recover, as though extracting gold from a corpse. Such a description
recalls the numerous distorted faces that appear throughout his work,
including the images of exhumed corpses interspersed throughout the
Aeropostales, a motif that evokes the practice of mining and recuperating
ȤHOSROYRGHORVPXHUWRVȥ7KHVHLPDJHVIXQFWLRQLQSDUWDVDNLQGRI
ZDUQLQJˌDJWRUHPLQGXVRIVXFKWHQGHQFLHV
However, like the images of sepulchral emplacement in Dittborn’s
earlier work, they also form part of an extended query into what it
means to regard or represent the other beyond the extraction of gold or
WKHUHFRYHU\RIWKHGXVWRIWKHGHDG'LWWERUQDIˋUPVWKDWȤWKHYR\DJH
of the AeropostalesUHIRUPXODWHVWKHHQWLUHTXHVWLRQRIJROGȥMapa
DQGVXJJHVWVWKDWKLVZRUNVDUHPRWLYDWHGE\WKHTXHVWLRQRIȤKRZ
to invent . . . a gaze that would seek to gather up not only the dust
of the dead but also that which resists such gathering from the most
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FRQˋQHPHQWH[FOXVLRQDQGGHDWKȥMapa7KDWLVWKH\UHMHFW
an epic economy of recovery and redemption in favor of another kind
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ephemerality, and dispersion of the other, that is, the fact that the other
LVDOZD\VDOVRIXQGDPHQWDOO\LQWUDQVLW
In a related discussion, a propos of an exhibition of colonial and post-
FRORQLDO/DWLQ$PHULFDQDUWRUJDQL]HGE\D%HOJLDQPXVHXPLQ
'LWWERUQFRQVLGHUVKRZ(XURSHDQVKDYHWUDGLWLRQDOO\SHUFHLYHG/DWLQ
$PHULFDQDUW+HFKDUDFWHUL]HVWKHWUDGLWLRQDO(XURSHDQSHUVSHFWLYHDV
PHWDSK\VLFDOZKLFKKHGHˋQHVDVEHLQJJURXQGHGE\DVERWKSRLQWRI
GHSDUWXUHDQGGHVWLQDWLRQLQWKHVWUXFWXUHRIHSLFȤWKHPLUDJHRIRULJLQ
DGLVWDQWSRLQWRIEDODQFHXQFKDQJLQJDQGKLGGHQORVWDQGLGHDOL]HGȥ
Mapa+HREVHUYHVIXUWKHUPRUHWKDWȤWKH(XURSHDQVȠIURP
Image and Alterity Beyond the Sepulture of the Human 145
Figure 4.9: (XJHQLR 'LWWERUQ If Left to Its Own Devices, Airmail Painting No. 75,
ȟ 3DLQW HPEURLGHU\ VWLWFKLQJ FKDUFRDO DQG SKRWR VLONVFUHHQ RQ WZR
VHFWLRQVRIQRQZRYHQIDEULF[LQFKHVRYHUDOO,PDJHFRXUWHV\RI$OH[DQGHU
and Bonin, New York.
WRˋQGIDFHVWKDWDUHDWDPD[LPXPGLVWDQFHIURPRQHDQRWKHU$FHUWDLQ
vertigo is produced by these abysses, these jumps from one face to the
next, from one technique to another, and between the different places in
which I found each face. So that as each Airmail Painting travels, there
are journeys within the work itself: the enormous distances between one
IDFHDQGWKHQH[W$QWLSRGHVDEUXSWO\SODFHGLQWRFRQWDFWMapa
Like any citation ripped out of context and placed into another,
Dittborn’s collages stress both discontinuity and new possibilities
of association, what Richard describes as the possibility of an event:
“The temporality of that which is gone becomes an event again by
YLUWXHRIEHLQJWUDQVIHUUHGLQWRWKHSUHVHQWXQGHUVWRRGDVD]RQHRI
VKRFNVEHWZHHQYLVLELOLW\DQGGLVDSSHDUDQFHȥȤ(VDWHPSRUDOLGDGGHOR
ido redeviene acontecimiento por el hecho de trasladarse al presente
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This event involves both the suspension and disruption of any epic
sense of representation—of history, of humanity—and the possiblity
of non-epic journeys, a bringing together that is also a distancing, a
Figure 4.10: (XJHQLR'LWWERUQThe 6th History of the Human Face (Black and Red
Camino), Airmail Painting No. 70 GHWDLO3KRWRVLONVFUHHQRQWHQVHFWLRQV
RI QRQZRYHQ IDEULF [ LQFKHV ,PDJH FRXUWHV\ RI $OH[DQGHU DQG %RQLQ
New York.
154 Witnessing beyond the Human
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RWUDˋJXUDXQSURFHGLPLHQWRW«FQLFRFRQRWUR1RHVODUHPLQLVFHQFLD
UHVFDWDGDGHDOJ¼QIRQGR\WUD¯GDDODVXSHUˋFLHVLQRXQW«UPLQRTXHVH
precipita sobre otro para transformarlo o que vertiginosamente recorre
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FDW£VWURIHSURGXFHPHPRULD
Richard draws attention to the fact that the abysses and folds that lie
between the faces in the AeropostalesUHˌHFWDQDE\VVWKDWOLHVEHWZHHQ
our faces and theirs. She describes this abyss as both an unbridgeable
GLVWDQFHLQGLFDWHGE\WKHYLUJXOHLQWKHWLWOHRIKHUHVVD\Ȥ1RVRWURVORV
RWURVȥ>8V2WKHUV@EXWDOVRDVWKHFRQGLWLRQRISRVVLELOLW\RIHQFRXQWHU
DFRQGLWLRQVKHWHUPVȤUHYHUVLEOHIURQWDOLW\ȥ,ZRXOGSURSRVH
to modify this slightly, borrowing from David Wills, to call it more of a
reversible dorsality. Rather than indicating a potential reversibility or
H[FKDQJHRIIDFHVDQGSHUVSHFWLYHVȤZHIDFHWKRVHZKRIDFHXVȥWKLV
would suggest an en/frentamientoWKHWHUPLV5LFKDUGȢVRUHQFRXQWHU
that confronts the fact that the face—of the other, of ourselves—is not
a direct form of transmission, but a necessarily enfolded surface, a mark
of manifold distances and deviations.
Dittborn’s work repeatedly emphasizes how our sense of the human
is always in tropic transit. As seen in one of the epigraphs for this
chapter, he describes his collages as attempts to “get out from this
SODFHWREHLQWKHZRUOGȥOLNHFU\SWLFDQGUXGGHUOHVVȤPHVVDJHVLQD
ERWWOHȥ7KLVDQDORJ\UHVRQDWHVZLWK3DXO&HODQȢVGHVFULSWLRQRIKLV
SRHPVDVȤPHVVDJHVLQDERWWOHȥPDNLQJWKHLUZD\WRZDUGȤVRPHWKLQJ
VWDQGLQJRSHQȥ&HODQVHHDOVR/HYLQH6XFKRSHQQHVV
conditions not only the addressee, but also the message itself, as both
Celan’s and Dittborn’s work ceaselessly demonstrate. Dittborn illustrates
KRZKLVZRUNXVHVWKHKXPDQˋJXUHDVDNLQGRIPHVVDJHLQDERWWOH
ZLWKUHIHUHQFHWRD%ULWLVKVS\ˋOPWLWOHGThe Man Who Never Was, in
ZKLFKWKHȤVS\ȥLVDFWXDOO\DGHDGERG\SODQWHGZLWKPLVLQIRUPDWLRQ
and thrown into the waters off the Spanish coast. This anecdote
can be read as suggesting how the faces that peer out from Dittborn’s
FROODJHVȤQHYHUZHUHȥLQDQ\VWUDLJKWIRUZDUGVHQVHWKH\ZHUHQHYHUWUXH
agents bearing forthright messages, but, bearing manifold treacherous
messages, are making their way toward something beyond the horizon
of the known, which is nonetheless intrinsically folded, bearing a secret
that cannot be known. Another anecdote illustrates this in another way:
Dittborn recounts how his sister was bringing him a mask from Africa
when she died en route, and he compares the faces in his collages to
WKDWPDVNMapa7KLVDQDORJ\VWUHVVHVKRZWKHSURVRSRSRHLF
ȤPHVVDJHȥRIWKHRWKHULVQHYHULQWDFWDQGIDLWKIXOEXWUDWKHUDVD
given or sent face, is a catechresis of something that can never be fully
known. Dittborn’s work constitutes a repeated effort to tear such
messages from their archival frames and indicate the voyages they are
always inevitably making toward the alterity of the world.
Conclusion
,QDQG'LWWERUQSURGXFHGVHYHUDOZRUNVWKDWLQYRNHWKH
figure of Robinson Crusoe. These include Aeropostales that feature
shipwrecks and footprints amidst icons of domesticity, and a video
SHUIRUPDQFHWKDWIHDWXUHVDEHDUGHGDQGKDOIQDNHGPDQZKRˋQGV
himself washed up on an indeterminate shore.1 The years of these works
coincide with the end of the Pinochet dictatorship and the beginning
of the transition to democracy. They can be seen as allusions to a
sense of vulnerability and exposure related to the historical period
in which they were made, although the lack of historical markers
underscores the fact that creaturely vulnerability is not the exclusive
mark of dictatorship societies. Alfonso Iommi observes of the Crusoe
video that it presents not only the vulnerability of existence, but also
the precariousness, and indeed inadequacy, of the structures we have
WRPDNHVHQVHRIVXFKYXOQHUDELOLW\
In the second volume of The Beast and the Sovereign, Derrida considers
Crusoe’s encounter with a footprint in relation to how the notions
of humanity and world immunologically seek to dominate or banish
such vulnerability. Shipwrecked and apparently alone on an unknown
island, Crusoe’s world is gone, and yet he recreates it as an insular-
LPPXQRORJLFDOVSDFHRIVHOINQRZOHGJH$VWKHPDUNRIDQRWKHUKH
cannot identify, his discovery of the footprint threatens this sense of
world. Not only might it belong to a beast-like force capable of devouring
him, rather than a beast-like subject of his tiny realm, he also begins to
question whether it was left by him, a trace of his own humanness that
he can nevertheless not recognize, the mark of a disorientation that
unsettles his sense of self-awareness and requires him to cautiously
157
158 Witnessing beyond the Human
Figure C.1: (XJHQLR 'LWWERUQ The Gloom in the Valley, Airmail Painting No. 74,
6WLWFKLQJDQGSKRWRVLONVFUHHQRQWZRVHFWLRQVRIQRQZRYHQIDEULF[
LQFKHV,PDJHFRXUWHV\RI$OH[DQGHUDQG%RQLQ1HZ<RUN
Introduction
,GLVFXVVWKLVSLHFHDWOHQJWKLQ&KDSWHU'LWWERUQLQFOXGHGWKLVLPDJHLQD
VHULHVRISLHFHVVWDUWLQJLQ,DPIRFXVLQJRQWKHYHUVLRQIURPGXH
to the inscription, which is not included in any of the other versions.
)RU LQWHUHVWLQJ SHUVSHFWLYHV RQ WKH WHUPȤSRVWGLFWDWRUVKLSȥ VHH /XLV
0DUW¯Q&DEUHUDȟDQG)HGHULFR*DOHQGHȤ3RVWGLFWDWXUDHVDSDODEUDȥ
:DOWHU%HQMDPLQȢVQRWLRQRIWKHFUHDWXUHO\ERG\DQGWKHSURIHVVHGVDQFWLW\
of life haunts these thinkers from the second half of the twentieth century,
probably more Derrida’s and Marchant’s than Foucault’s. See for instance
Benjamin’s description of the preservation of life as pretext for institutional
YLROHQFHDWWKHHQGRIȤ&ULWLTXHRI9LROHQFHȥȟDQGDOVR(ULF6DQW-
ner’s On Creaturely Life.
,DPGUDZLQJKHUHIURPȤ:KDWLV(QOLJKWHQPHQW"ȥThe Order of Things, and
Society Must Be Defended. See also Cary Wolfe, What is Posthumanism?[LYȟ
[YLDQGȤCinders $IWHU%LRSROLWLFVȥ[YL
2IˋFLDOFRXQWVWDOO\FDVHVRIWRUWXUHDQGRIGHDWKDQGGLVDS-
SHDUDQFHLQ&KLOHDQGFDVHVRIGHDWKDQGGLVDSSHDUDQFHLQ$UJHQ-
tina, although in both cases the numbers are understood to be higher. See
,QIRUPHGHOD&RPLVLµQ1DFLRQDOVREUH3ULVLµQ3RO¯WLFD\7RUWXUD
Ȥ5HFKD]DPRVFDWHJµULFDPHQWHODFRQFHSFLµQPDU[LVWDGHOKRPEUH\GHOD
VRFLHGDGSRUTXHHOODQLHJDORVYDORUHVP£VHQWUD³DEOHVGHODOPDQDFLRQDO\
pretende dividir a los chilenos en una lucha deliberada entre clases aparen-
WHPHQWHDQWDJµQLFDVSDUDWHUPLQDULPSODQWDQGRXQVLVWHPDWRWDOLWDULR
\RSUHVRUGRQGHVHQLHJXHORVP£VFDURVDWULEXWRVGHOKRPEUHFRPRVHU
UDFLRQDO\OLEUHȤ'LVFXUVRGH$XJXVWR3LQRFKHWDXQPHVGHODFRQVWLWXFLµQ
GHODMXQWDGHJRELHUQRȥQSȤ8QFXOSDEOHVLOHQFLRKDQJXDUGDGROD8QLµQ
6RYL«WLFD\&XEDIUHQWHDORVUHLWHUDGRVGHVDILRVTXHOHVKHPRVKHFKRHQ
PDWHULDGHUHVSHWRDODGLJQLGDGKXPDQDȥ0HQVDMHSUHVLGHQFLDO6HSW
7. For insightful discussions of the limitations of human rights discourse in
161
162 Notes
UHODWLRQWR&KLOHVHH0DUW¯Q&DEUHUDFKDQG$OHVVDQGUR)RUQD]]DUL
Speculative Fictions: Chilean Culture, Economics, and the Neoliberal Transition.
Derrida’s own perspectives on the necessity of human rights, but also the
need to recognize their limitations, can be found in “Philosophy in a Time
RI7HUURUȥOn Cosmopolitanism, RoguesȤ,QWHUSUHWDWLRQVDW:DUȥDQGȤ)RUFH
RI/DZȥDPRQJRWKHUWH[WV6HHDOVRAnd Justice for All? The Claims of Human
RightsHG(GXDUGR&DGDYDDQG,DQ%DOIRXU'XUKDP1&'XNH8QLYHUVLW\
3UHVV
6HHIRULQVWDQFHLa insubordinación de los signos2QWKHUHODWLRQVKLS
between the tenets of traditional Leftist ideology and the figure of testi-
PRQ\VHHSSȟ$QGILQDOO\VHHKHUFDXWLRQUHJDUGLQJWKHUHODWLRQ
EHWZHHQUHSUHVHQWDWLRQDQGWKHKXPDQRQSSȟ$OOWKHVHLGHDVDUH
recurrent throughout Richard’s work.
5LFKDUGDGGUHVVHVVXFKDOWHUQDWLYHDSSURDFKHVLQ La Insubordinación de
los signosIRULQVWDQFHIIDQGWKURXJKRXWKHUZRUN,GLVFXVVVRPH
GLIIHUHQWDVSHFWVDQGSHUVSHFWLYHVRQWKHVHLGHDVLQ&KDSWHUHVSHFLDOO\WKH
tensions that have arisen between her thought and that of Pablo Oyarzún
DQG:LOO\7KD\HU0\RZQZRUNKDVEHHQPRUHLQˌXHQFHGE\2\DU]¼QWKDQ
Richard, although I have an enormous respect for her enduring contribu-
tion to contemporary critical thought. Other critics who address similar
issues relating to Latin America in ways compatible with my own, and whose
work has inspired and influenced me in countless ways, include Sergio
Villalobos-Ruminott, Alberto Moreiras, Federico Galende, Gareth Williams,
3DWULFN'RYH%UHWW/HYLQVRQ6XVDQD'UDSHUDQG(ULQ*UDII=LYLQ
0DUWLQ+¦JJOXQGREVHUYHVWKDW'HUULGDGHVFULEHVWKHUHODWLRQVKLSRIVSDFLQJ
to life as early as Writing and DifferenceRadical Atheism,WLVDOVR
present in almost all his discussions of Heidegger, most notably Of Spirit.
'HUULGDȢVGLVFXVVLRQRIVDFULˋFHLQWKLVVHQVHLVODLGRXWPRVWFOHDUO\LQȤ(DWLQJ
:HOOȥWKHUHLVDOVRDQDOOXVLRQWRLWLQȤ)RUFHRI/DZȥ,WLVDOVRLPSOLFLW
WKURXJKRXWȤ)DLWKDQG.QRZOHGJHȥ7KLVODWWHUHVVD\LVXQGRXEWHGO\RQHRI
Derrida’s most important essays, and, interestingly enough, can be read as
DUHZULWLQJRIȤ7KH(QGVRI0DQȥ'HUULGDDSSURDFKHVVDFULˋFHLQDVOLJKWO\
different way in The Gift of Death, where he considers it in relation to the
nature of aporia, although the roots for his later approximation are indeed
DOUHDG\HYLGHQWVHHGift [70] and also David Wills Matchbook: Essays in Decon-
struction ȟ&DU\:ROIHȢVGLVFXVVLRQVRI'HUULGDȢVXQGHUVWDQGLQJRI
life have contributed greatly to this section. See “Cinders$IWHU%LRSROLWLFVȥ
Animal Rites&KDSWHUDQGWhat is Posthumanism?&KDSWHU
'HUULGDȢVGHVFULSWLRQRIDXWRLPPXQLW\DVDȤSULQFLSOHRIVDFULˋFLDOVHOIGH-
VWUXFWLRQUXLQLQJWKHSULQFLSOHRIVHOISURWHFWLRQȥȤ)DLWKDQG.QRZOHGJHȥ
PHDQVWKDWLWVDFULILFHVWKHLQWHUQDOL]LQJH[WHUQDOL]LQJVWUXFWXUHRI
VDFULˋFHSHUIRUPLQJZKDWKHFDOOVLQȤ(DWLQJ:HOOȥDȤVDFULˋFHRIVDFULˋFHȥ
VHHDOVRȤ)RUFHRI/DZȥȟDERYHDOOLQUHODWLRQWRWKHTXHVWLRQRI
MXVWLFHZKLFK,DGGUHVVEHORZ
'HUULGD ILUVW DGGUHVVHG WKH WHUP ȤVXUYLYDOȥ LQ Demeure: Fiction and
Notes 163
Testimony, DQGGHYHORSHGLWPRUHIXOO\LQȤ/LYLQJ2Q%RUGHU/LQHVȥSpecters
of Marx, and Learning to Live Finally: The Final Interview.
7KLVTXRWDWLRQDOVRDSSHDUVLQ:ROIHȢVLQWURGXFWLRQWRCinders. In a similar
vein, Derrida also describes survival and auto-immunological disruption as
opening to “the other, the future, death, the coming of the other, the space
DQGWLPHRIDVSHFWUDOL]LQJPHVVLDQLFLW\EH\RQGDOOPHVVLDQLVPȥȤ)DLWKȥ
'HUULGDGLVFXVVHVUHVSRQVLELOLW\LQDQXPEHURISODFHVLQFOXGLQJEXWQRW
OLPLWHGWRȤ3RHWLFVDQG3ROLWLFVRI:LWQHVVLQJȥȤ)RUFHRI/DZȥII
On the NameIIEating WellȟDQGPolitics of Friendship
6HH DOVR 7KRPDV .HHQDQȢV LQVLJKWIXO GLVFXVVLRQ RI UHVSRQVLELOLW\
throughout Fables of Responsibility.
,QȤ3RHWLFVDQG3ROLWLFVRI:LWQHVVLQJȥDQGLQWHUPLWWHQWO\LQȤ)DLWKDQG
.QRZHOGJHȥ'HUULGDSOD\VZLWKWKHPXOWLSOHPHDQLQJVRIZLWQHVVLQJDQG
WHVWLPRQ\LQFOXGLQJWKHGRXEOHVHQVHRIȤWHVWLI\LQJWRȥWKHRWKHU7KHUHLV
FOHDUO\QRWDQDEVROXWHGLVWLQFWLRQEHWZHHQȤUHVSRQVLELOLW\ȥȤUHVSRQVHȥDQG
ȤWHVWLPRQ\ȥQRWWRPHQWLRQVRPHRIKLVRWKHUWHUPVVXFKDVȤVDOXWȥDQG
ȤKRVSLWDOLW\ȥ
17. On the notion of a law of iterability, suspended halfway between a struc-
tural law and a Kantian imperative, see “This Strange Institution Called
/LWHUDWXUHȥȟȤ3ROLWLFVDQG3RHWLFVRI:LWQHVVLQJȥȤ7KH8QLYHU-
VLW\:LWKRXW&RQGLWLRQȥȤ(DWLQJ:HOOȥUHJDUGLQJWKHH[FHVV
RIWKH.DQWLDQLPSHUDWLYH6HHDOVR:ROIHȢVGLVFXVVLRQRIWKLVODZLQWhat
is Posthumanism?ȟ$OWKRXJKWKHQRWLRQRIȤUHVSRQVLELOLW\ȥLVRIWHQ
DVVRFLDWHGZLWKȤODWH'HUULGDȥLWLVDOVRSUHVHQWLQVRPHRIKLVHDUOLHUZRUNV
PRVWQRWDEO\Ȥ9LROHQFHDQG0HWDSK\VLFVȥ
2QWKHGLIIHUHQWVHQVHVRIȤZLWQHVVLQJȥDQGȤWHVWLPRQ\ȥVHH5DFKHO%RZO-
by’s comments on the relation between witnessing and témoignage in the
QRWHWRKHUWUDQVODWLRQRI'HUULGDȢVȤ$6HOI8QVHDOLQJ3RHWLF7H[WȥQ
6HHDOVR3DWULFN'RYHȢVH[FHOOHQWGLVFXVVLRQRIWKLVLQȤ0HPRU\%HWZHHQ
3ROLWLFVDQG(WKLFV'HO%DUFRȢV/HWWHUȥ
4WGLQ&KDPEHUV6HHDOVR:ROIHHVSHFLDOO\UHJDUGLQJWKH:LWWJHQ-
VWHLQLDQFRPSRQHQWRI/\RWDUGȢVQRWLRQRIJHQUH,GLVFXVVWKLVLQ&KDSWHU
It should be noted that Derrida presents a cogent critique of Lyotard’s The
Differend, primarily in relation to the apparent inclusiveness of the pronoun
ȤZHȥȤ/\RWDUGDQG8Vȥ
21. Cary Wolfe discusses Derrida’s silent interpellation of Agamben’s work in
his prologue to Cinders[[QQRWLQJWKDWLWDSSHDUVSULPDULO\LQWKHWKLUG
session of The Beast and the Sovereign, vol. 1, and The Animal That Therefore
I Am.
22. Throughout Remnants of Auschwitz, and indeed the entire Homo Sacer
trilogy, Agamben refers to the demarcation of humanity and inhumanity,
which he examines more explicitly in The Open: Man and Animal. His
conclusions in The Open are consistent with his analysis of the inhuman
and human components of testimony in Remnants. Like the convergence
164 Notes
of the possible and impossible, and the inhuman and human, elements of
WHVWLPRQ\LQDˋJXUHVXFKDV3ULPR/HYLZKRUHDFKHGDVWDWHRILPSRVVLEOH
witnessing but returned to testify to the experience, Agamben describes a
convergence of animal and human life in a structure of redemptive medi-
ality, which he characterizes as a form of suspension—“the suspension of
VXVSHQVLRQ6KDEEDWRIERWKDQLPDODQGPDQȥȠDIˋUPLQJWKDWLWSURPLVHV
UHGHPSWLRQHYHQLQWKHDEVHQFHRIUHGHPSWLRQThe Open
0\GLVFXVVLRQRI$JDPEHQLVJUHDWO\LQGHEWHGWR/LEUHWW6HHDOVR:ROIHȢV
reference to his work in the Prologue to Cinders.
6HH IRU LQVWDQFH /D]]DUD DQG 0DUW¯Q&DEUHUD ȟ $OWKRXJK
0DUW¯Q&DEUHUDGHVFULEHVWKHȤUDGLFDOO\DQWLRQWRORJLFDOQDWXUHȥRI$JDP-
ben’s theory of testimony, I am not sure to what extent he understands
Agamben’s argument. He discusses Agamben’s theory of testimony in rela-
WLRQWRDVFHQHIURP3DWULFLR*X]P£QȢVEl caso Pinochet in which the mother
of a desaparecido is brought to see a common grave where the remains
of her son were found. She says, “And now, I have seen . . . I haven’t seen
DQ\WKLQJ DQG , GRQȢW WKLQN , DP HYHQ JRLQJ WR VHH DQ\WKLQJȥ 0DUW¯Q
&DEUHUDGHVFULEHVKRZLQWKLVVHJPHQWRIWKHˋOPWKHFDPHUDȤZRUNVDVWKH
$JDPEHQLDQ2WKHURIWKHZLWQHVVWKDWJXDUDQWHHVWKHSRVVLELOLW\RIWUDQV-
PLWWLQJWKHLPSRVVLELOLW\RIWHVWLPRQ\ȥ,QWKLVVHQVHWKHFLQHPDWLF
FDPHUDLVOLNHWKHYRLFHRIWHVWLPRQ\WKDWWUDQVFHQGVDQGXQLˋHVWHVWLPR-
ny’s possibilities and impossibilities. Nevertheless, Martín-Cabrera seems
WRUHJDUGWKHHQFRXQWHUEHWZHHQUHYHODWLRQDQGFRQFHDOPHQWLQWKHˋOPDV
DFDOOIRUFKDQJHȤDGLIIHUHQWQRWLRQRIMXVWLFH\HWWRFRPHȥZKLFKPHDQV
WKDWRQWRSRHWLFIXOˋOOPHQWKDVQRW\HWEHHQUHDFKHG
$JDPEHQ EDVHV KLV XQGHUVWDQGLQJ RI VXFK D ODZ RQ :DOWHU %HQMDPLQȢV
QRWLRQRIȤSXUHODQJXDJHȥȤ:HZLOOWKHQKDYHEHIRUHXVDȡSXUHȢODZLQWKH
sense in which Benjamin speaks of a ‘pure’ language and a ‘pure’ violence. To
a word that does not bind, that neither commands nor prohibits anything,
but says only itself, would correspond an action as pure means, which shows
RQO\LWVHOIZLWKRXWDQ\UHODWLRQWRDQHQGȥState of Exception7KH
problem with this, however, is that Benjamin never suggested that we could
live in pure language. Pure language or the potentiality of meaning is some-
thing we can indicate only through certain uses of language or gesture such
DVWUDQVODWLRQFLWDWLRQFROOHFWLRQˋOPFXWVDQGSKRWRJUDSK\7KHVHFXWVRU
coups are not instrumental, but neither are they pure means without ends.
They are in fact forms of decision. See also Librett’s analysis of Agamben’s
ȤVDFULˋFHȥRIODZȟ
6HHIRULQVWDQFHȤ)RUFHRI/DZȥȟ
27. Derrida goes great lengths to explain how witnessing gestures to something
fundamentally heterogeneous to knowledge, certainty, and judgment, which
QHYHUWKHOHVVXQGHUOLHVDQ\DIˋUPDWLRQRINQRZOHGJHRUMXGJPHQWȤ3RHWLFVȥ
ȟ+HGHVFULEHV&HODQȢVSRHPȤ$VFKHQJORULHȥDVDȤGHVSHUDWHVLJKȥWKDW
WHVWLˋHVWRWKLVSDUDGR[
(ULQ*UDII=LYLQSURYLGHVWKLVLOOXPLQDWLQJTXRWDWLRQLQKHUH[FHOOHQWHVVD\
Notes 165
Ȥ%H\RQG,QTXLVLWLRQDO/RJLFȥȤ:KDWLIEHIRUHHWKLFVWKHUHZHUHDQRWKHU
practice that makes of the double suspension of the ethical by the polit-
ical and of the political by the ethical its very possibility? This practice,
ZKLFKˋQGVLWVH[SUHVVLRQLQOLWHUDWXUHEXWLVQRWOLPLWHGWROLWHUDWXUHLV
infrapolitical practice. It exposes us without ulterior purpose, and there-
fore remains, itself, beyond the double suspension. It remains haunted, and
OLYHVLQWKHKDXQWLQJȥTWGLQ*UDII=LYLQIURP0RUHLUDVȤ,QIUDSROLWLFDO
/LWHUDWXUHȥ6HHDOVR*UDII=LYLQȢVHQWU\RQ(WKLFVLQWKHDictionary of
Latin American Cultural Studies.
7KLVUHFDOOV5HL7HUDGDȢVLPDJLQDU\GLDORJXHEHWZHHQ'HUULGDDQG3DXOGH
Man on how or whether to name what lies beyond prosopopoeia: “Even if
\RXLPDJLQHWKDW\RXOHDYHWKHJURXQGȡEH\RQGSURVRSRSRHLDȢXQGHˋQHGFDOOLQJ
LWPHUHO\ȡWKHRWKHUȢRUȡWKHQHZȢWKHVHFKDUDFWHUL]DWLRQVDUHDVGHˋQLWLRQDODQG
as hallucinatory as others. ‘Beyond prosopopoeia’ you have placed prosopo-
SRHLDLWVHOI,QIDFWWKDWȢVZKDWSURVRSRSRHLDLVLQWKHˋUVWSODFHȠWKHLGHDWKDW
there’s something ‘beyond prosopopoeia.’ But to this Derrida could reply: Yes,
but listen to what you’ve said: prosopopoeia is the idea that there’s something
beyond prosopopoeiaȥ,QȤ3V\FKHȥDQGWKURXJKRXWKLVZRUN'HUULGD
PDNHVFOHDUWKDWWKHWHUPȤRWKHUȥH[FHHGVVXEMHFWLYHDQGREMHFWLYHFDWHJR-
ULHVVHHIRULQVWDQFH7HUDGD
,DPLQGHEWHGWR*HUKDUG5LFKWHUȢVGLVFXVVLRQRILQYHQWLRQLQȤ%HWZHHQ
7UDQVODWLRQDQG,QYHQWLRQȥIRUWKLVGLVWLQFWLRQ,ZRXOGDUJXHWKDWPDQ\RI
the writers and artists associated with the traditional avant-garde were also
more engaged with such invention than an appropriative gesture of the new.
,ZLOOGLVFXVVWKHFRQWHQWLRXVˋJXUHRIWKHDYDQWJDUGHLQJUHDWHUGHSWKLQ
&KDSWHUVDQG
6HH GHO %DUFR QS DQG 3DWULFN 'RYHȢV H[FHOOHQW GLVFXVVLRQ RI WKLV LQ
Ȥ0HPRU\EHWZHHQ3ROLWLFVDQG(WKLFV'HO%DUFRȢV/HWWHUȥ
1. The quotations in this paragraph come from the editorial “Poesía, memoria,
YHUGDG\MXVWLFLDȥ$OOWUDQVODWLRQVDUHPLQH
/D&£PSRUDD3HURQLVWRUJDQL]DWLRQUHOHDVHGDVWDWHPHQWREVHUYLQJWKDW
while many people acknowledging Gelman’s passing have never read
his poetry, “contrariamente a lo que pueda parecer, eso no representa
un defecto, sino una gran virtud. Cuando se define lo popular, se debería
tener como paradigma una figura similar a la de un poeta que pocos han
leído pero que lo conocen y admiran millones. Porque su vida y su obra
se entremezclan a tal punto de que ya no es posible separarlas. Su obra se
GLOX\HHQVXYLGD\YLFHYHUVDȥȤ3RHV¯DPHPRULDYHUGDG\MXVWLFLDȥQS
)HUQ£QGH]ȢVHOHYDWLRQRI*HOPDQȢVGHDWKLQWRDQRFFDVLRQIRUQDWLRQDO
mourning can be seen as a public relations appropriation of his life story
as representative of the Peronist party, as one whose commitment to social
MXVWLFHZDVEUXWDOO\GLVUXSWHGE\WKHPLOLWDU\FRXSLQDQG\HWUHWXUQHG
166 Notes
WRFRQWLQXHLWVPLVVLRQȠSHUKDSVQRWVRPXFKLQWKHRSXOHQWVEXW
IURPWKHDVKHVRIWKHSROLWLFDODQGHFRQRPLFFULVLVZLWK)HUQ£QGH]ȢV
KXVEDQG1«VWRU.LUFKQHUDQGVXEVHTXHQWO\)HUQ£QGH]KHUVHOI7KH.LUFK-
ners were the presidents most dedicated to addressing the abuses of the
dictatorship, supporting, among other things, the overturning of the laws
of impunity and the subsequent prosecution of some of the dictatorship’s
primary agents.
In terms of published criticism, Pablo Montanero’s Juan Gelman: Esper-
anza, utopia y resistenciaLVSUREDEO\WKHEHVWUHSUHVHQWDWLYHRIWKLV
WHQGHQF\WRYLHZKLVSRHWU\DVDQH[WHQVLRQRIKLVSROLWLFV-RUJH%RFFDQH-
ra’s &RQˋDUHQHOPLVWHULR9LDMHSRUODSRHV¯DGH-XDQ*HOPDQLVSURE-
ably the best representative of the view that his poetry is disengaged from
his politics. The best works of criticism on Gelman’s poetry, in my view,
are María del Carmen Sillato’s Juan Gelman: las estrategias de la otredad
DQG*HQHYLªYH)DEU\ȢVLas formas del vacío: La escritura del duelo en
la poesía de Juan Gelman6LOODWRDSSURDFKHV*HOPDQȢVZRUNZLWKD
theoretical lens, but tends to turn away from politics toward autobiograph-
ical or literary historical questions at key moments. Fabry divides her anal-
\VLVDORQJWKHOLQHVRIWKHWZRGHˋQLWLRQVRIWKHZRUGdueloDVSROLWLFDO
FRPEDWDQGSHUVRQDOPRXUQLQJ6KHGRHVKRZHYHUDFNQRZOHGJHWKDW
the two meanings are inseparable and omnipresent in Gelman’s work.
Two relatively recent chapters on Gelman are worth special mention for
their innovative approaches to questions of the personal and the political
in Gelman’s work: they appear in Monique Balbuena’s Homeless Tongues:
Poetry and Languages of the Sephardic Diaspora and Ben Bollig’s Modern
Argentine Poetry.
The attention to Gelman’s political involvement may be less evident
in what is written about him than in what is not written. In a personal
FRQYHUVDWLRQLQ-XO\WKHSRHWDQGOLWHUDU\FULWLF7DPDUD.DPHQV]DLQ
commented that Gelman is not taken very seriously in Argentine literary
FLUFOHVEHFDXVHKHLVFRQVLGHUHGWREHDQȤHVFULWRUFRPSURPHWLGRȥWKDWLV
his literary productions are conditioned by his political commitment.
6HHContraderrotaȟDQGȤ0RQWRQHURV'RFXPHQWRVLQWHUQRV
UHVROXFLRQHVFRPXQLFDGRV\SDUWHVGHJXHUUDȥ&RQFHUQLQJWKHGLIIHUHQFHV
and uncertainty that inevitably confront revolutionary struggle, Gelman
and Mero discuss the need for, and relative absence of, critical reflection
DQGGLVFXVVLRQLQWKH0RQWRQHURVDQHHGZKLFKFRQWUDVWHGIXUWKHUPRUH
with the Messianic zeal discussed below, but strangely evocative of a kind
of alternate mysticism, that is, a space apart from rational decisionism and
a confrontation with aporia. For instance: “creo que a medida que las condi-
FLRQHVVHSRQHQP£VMRGLGDVKD\P£VQHFHVLGDGGHSHQVDUVREUHODVDFFLRQHV
DVHJXLU(VWRQRHVFXHVWLµQGHWLHPSRPDWHULDOHVWDPEL«QXQWLHPSRLQWH-
ULRUHQHOVHQWLGRGHTXHGHEHGDUVHHQWRQFHVXQWLSRGLVWLQWRGHUHˌH[LµQȥ
VHHDOVRDQGII
,QContraderrota Gelman and Mero discuss the religious dimension of the
Notes 167
0RQWRQHURVRQȟ7KRPLVWLFWKRXJKWRQWKHFRPSRVLWHQDWXUHRI
human existence is slightly more complex than the outline they give here,
but this is perhaps not fully relevant.
2OLYHUD:LOOLDPV8ULEHDQG6LOODWRDUHQRWDEOHLQWKLVUHJDUG,QKHUDGPLUDEOH
book Las formas del vacío: La escritura del duelo en la poesía de Juan Gelman,
Geneviève Fabry presents a more complex and nuanced approach to the role
of mourning in Gelman’s work. In many ways her analysis of Gelman’s poetry
DVDȤZULWLQJRIPRXUQLQJȥLVTXLWHVLPLODUWRP\GLVFXVVLRQRIKLVDSRVWURSKLF
poetics. She seeks to show how, throughout his work, Gelman’s writing indi-
cates the effects of loss on the experience of life, representing it not as some-
thing prosopopoeically recuperable, but as something that ruptures and exceeds
NQRZQIRUPVRIUHSUHVHQWDWLRQDVDȤIRUPDGHVHQFDQWDGDGHORSRVLEOHȥ
However, I disagree with her assessment of Gelman’s belief in the redemptive
power of poetry, described as a Phoenix that rises from the ashes of catastrophe:
Ȥ(QVXYXHORHOS£MDURHVER]DXQDWUD\HFWRULDGHUHFRQFLOLDFLµQFRQHOYDF¯R
/HMRVGHKXLUGHOYDF¯RHOS£MDURVHDOHMDGHODWLHUUDOROOHQRKDFLDHOFLHOROR
YDF¯Rȥ7KLVDSRWKHRVLVRIWKHSRHWDQGWKHLPSOLFLWSURPLVHRIUHGHPS-
tion, a linear progress toward a positive or negative divinity, is at odds with my
own reading of Gelman’s work.
7KHGLVWLQFWLRQEHWZHHQSURVRSRSRHLDDQGDSRVWURSKHLVDKHXULVWLFRQH
De Man acknowledges that there are different uses of prosopopoeia: one
in which it is assumed that the giving of face is a restoration of an original,
SUHH[LVWHQWIDFHDQGDQRWKHULQZKLFKLWLVDFNQRZOHGJHGWKDWȤWKHRULJ-
LQDOIDFHFDQEHPLVVLQJRUQRQH[LVWHQWȥ+HDOVRFRQVLGHUVSURVRSRSRHLD
to be the trope of apostrophe, that is, the unreliable instrument on which
DQ\DGGUHVVWRDQRWKHUȠRQHDEVHQWRULQYLVLEOHȠGHSHQGVThe Resistance to
Theory
Note that Derrida acknowledges the play between strophe and apostrophe
LQȤ3RHWLFVDQG3ROLWLFVRI:LWQHVVLQJȥ
Also, the distinction between prosopopoeia and apostrophe roughly
corresponds to that between mourning and melancholy, and even more
so to that between introjection and incorporation as discussed by Maria
Torok and Nicholas Abraham. Not surprisingly, Derrida rejects the neatness
RIVXFKRSSRVLWLRQV+HZULWHVWKDWLQFRUSRUDWLRQDQDORJRXVWRDFHUWDLQ
point, with melancholy, at least in the sense in which melancholy desig-
nates an experience of loss in which it is not known exactly what has been
ORVW>)UHXG@VHHPVȤWRSUHVHUYHWKHRWKHUDVRWKHUIRUHLJQEXWLW
also does the opposite. It is not the other that the process of incorporation
preserves, but a certain topography it keeps safe, intact, untouched by the
very relationship with the other to which, paradoxically enough, introjection
LVPRUHRSHQȥȤ)RUVȥ+HKDVDOVRFDOOHGWKHDOWHUQDWHIRUPRIPRXUQLQJ
ȤPLGPRXUQLQJȥThe Post Card6HH5DQMDQD.KDQQDȢVGLVFXVVLRQRI
this in Algerian CutsII
7. Derrida uses the metaphor of pregnancy and maternity throughout his work
VHHȤ0QHPRV\QHȥDOVRVHH&OHR0F1HOO\.HDUQVȢVȤ0DU\0DWHUQLW\
168 Notes
DQG$EUDKDPLF+RVSLWDOLW\LQ'HUULGDȢV5HDGLQJRI0DVVLJQRQȥ6HHDOVRP\
GLVFXVVLRQRIWKLVLQȤ-XDQ*HOPDQȢV2SHQ/HWWHUVȥ
2Q'HUULGDȢVXQGHUVWDQGLQJRIPHVVLDQLFLW\VHHȤ0DU[ 6RQVȥHVSHFLDOO\
ȟRQMXVWLFHVHHȤ)RUFHRI/DZȥHVSHFLDOO\ȟ
,QDQLQWHUYLHZZLWK0DULR%HQHGHWWL*HOPDQRIIHUHGVRPHWKRXJKWVRQ
the effects of fragmentation: “Los lenguajes fragmentarios se malentienden
y son causa de cacofonía, pero en su interior, como adentro de una vaina,
se agita el balbuceo. La palabra balbuceo contiene, en una bolsa de agua,
ODDFFLµQGHEXFHDU\SRUHVRORVOHQJXDMHVIUDJPHQWDULRVMXQWRDVXGXUD
soledad, conocen el posible vigor de la raíz buscada y el seguro rechazo
GHORTXHIXHPHQWLUD\FRQVWUXFFLµQTXHFRQGXMHURQDHVWDGHVWUXFFLµQ
como verdad. Los lenguajes fragmentarios cuestionan al mundo como niños
que lloran asustados por el trueno, y de ese llanto y susto extraen fuerza y
SRUYHQLUȥTWGLQ)DEU\Q
10. Gelman asserts that a process of learning and unlearning is also central to
DQ\SURMHFWRIUHYROXWLRQContraderrota
11. Los poemas de Sidney West, Traducciones III is part of a series begun with
two other books, Los poemas de John Wendell and Los poemas de Yamano-
cuchi Ando, published in Cólera BueyIURPPDWHULDOZULWWHQEHWZHHQ
DQG*HOPDQGHVFULEHGWKLVRQJRLQJSURMHFWRQQXPHURXVRFFD-
sions, describing his use of heteronyms at one point as a form of Brechtian
GHIDPLOLDUL]DWLRQȤFXDQGRHPSHF«FRQHOLQJO«VIXHSDUDH[WUD³DUPHGH
DOJRTXHPHHVWDEDRFXUULHQGRH[WUD³DUPHORGLJRHQHOVHQWLGREUHFKWLDQR
SRUTXHPLSRHV¯DVHHVWDEDYROYLHQGRPX\¯QWLPDȥTWGLQ2Ȣ+DUDȤ(OFDQWR
TXHVHFDQWDGHSUHVWDGRGH6LGQH\*HOPDQD-XDQ:HVWȥ$WDQRWKHU
SRLQWKHH[SODLQHGȤ,QYHQW«WHUFHURV\ORVSXEOLTX«GHHVDPDQHUDHQ
SDUWHSRUTXHFRQVWLWX\HQDV¯XQDSURYRFDFLµQDODVFRUULHQWHVSRSXOLVWDVHQ
boga, que suponen que una poesía es nacional—o no—si menciona—o no—
ORVVLWLRV\RWUDVDQ«FGRWDVGHODQDFLµQȥTWGLQ6LOODWR2QWKHXVHRI
SVHXGRQ\PVLQ*HOPDQȢVSRHWU\VHH%ROOLJȤ:KDW'R:H6D\:KHQ:H6D\
-XDQ*HOPDQ"2Q3VHXGRQ\PVDQG3ROHPLFVLQ5HFHQW$UJHQWLQH3RHWU\ȥ
12. Since much of Gelman’s poetry employs virgules in the text, I will use a
double virgule to indicate line breaks.
7KHIROORZLQJTXRWDWLRQVVXJJHVWWKDW:HVWLVERWKKXPDQDQGDQLPDOȤTX«
SRFDSRUDOUHGHGRUGHHVWHKRPEUH\DGHQWURTX«DQLPDOȥDQGWKDW:HVW
LVERWKDOLYHDQGGHDGȤDVLGQH\ZHVWVHORFRPLHURQWRGRVORVS£MDURVTXH
VXSRLQYHQWDUȥȤcHQHOFHPHQWHULRGH2DNDOO¯ORSXVLHURQDVLGQH\
ZHVWTXHGXHUPDȥȟ
7KHUHDUHPDQ\GHWDLOVLQWKHVHSRHPVWKDW,GRQRWXQGHUVWDQG2QHRI
WKHPLVWKHVLJQLˋFDQFHRIWKHQDPHV3DUVLIDODSSHDUVWRUHIHUWR5LFKDUG
Wagner’s opera of that name, possibly due to the young orphan called a fool
for not understanding other knights’ suffering.
7KHVHVWDQ]DVUHSOLFDWHSDUWRIWKHSRHPȤ6¯ȥIURP Cólera buey, which,
similar to this and the previously discussed poem, stresses the link between
SRVVLELOLW\DQGDIˋUPDWLRQ
Notes 169
LQZKLFKWKHSRHWVHHNVWRDUULYHDWȤWXDOPLWDUȥDQHRORJLVPWKDWHYRNHV
both the alma and altar of the son—suggesting that the poet’s disap-
SHDUHGVRQLVVLWXDWHGDVDVHPLGLYLQHILJXUHȟ)DEU\DVWXWHO\
observes that this intertextual reference does not imply that Carta abierta
VKDUHV 6DQ -XDQȢV QDUUDWLYH RI WUDQVFHQGHQFH ([FHSW IRU PRPHQWV RI
wistful longing for a liberation from his pain, Gelman appears to use San
-XDQȢVZRUNDVDȤWHRU¯DGHOGRORUȥDQGDPRGHORIPHPRU\LQZKLFK
PHPRU\LVOLQNHGWRWKHSDLQRIGHDWK6KHDOVRUHIHUVDQH[SODQD-
WLRQJLYHQE\*HOPDQRIKLVXVHRI6DQ-XDQȢVDTXHOORDVDˋJXUHWKDWȤGD
FXHQWDGHORTXHQRWLHQHIRUPD\GHMDWUD]DȥTWGLQ)DEU\*HOPDQ
Ȥ1RWDVDOSLHȥ
Fabry’s reading of poem XXIV as a glimpse of hope, and of XV as a
UHWXUQWRWKHFORVXUHDQGFORLVWHULQJRIDPRXUQLQJQHFHVVDULO\LQFRP-
plete until the remains of the desaparecidos are returned reveals her own
DVVRFLDWLRQEHWZHHQWKHFRPSOHWLRQRIPRXUQLQJDQGWUDQVFHQGHQFHLas
formas del vacío7KLVDVVRFLDWLRQLVDOVRJOLPSVHGLQKHUGHVFULSWLRQ
of how Gelman’s poetry seeks to find a voice so that the “‘cementerio de
ODPHPRULDȢVHOLEHUHSURJUHVLYDPHQWHGHVXVHVSHFWURVȥLas formas del
vacío
)DEU\SURYLGHVDVXJJHVWLYHLQWHUSUHWDWLRQRIWKHHQGRIWKHSRHPDVLQGL-
cating a mutual engendering of father and son, as well as an engendering of
GHDWK6KHDOVRSRLQWVRXWWKDWWKHQHRORJLVPhijar can be found in the
ZRUNRI&«VDU9DOOHMRIRULQVWDQFHLQTrilce;,,,)DEU\Q
7KHLQGHWHUPLQDF\RIWKLVQHRORJLVPFRUUHVSRQGVWRWKHSKUDVHH[SUHVVHG
by the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo that “nuestros hijos nos parieron en la
OXFKDȥTWGLQ/XLV0DUW¯Q&DEUHUD
$OWKRXJK,WKLQNWKDWWKHPDLQSRLQWLQWKHDVVRFLDWLRQEHWZHHQIDWKHUDQG
country is the dual sense of loss, another element probably informs the
GHVFULSWLRQRIWKHIDWKHUDVȤGROHGRUGHWDQWRȥZKLFKLVWKHNQRZOHGJHWKDW
the son’s abduction was directly related to the father’s political involve-
PHQW7KHXVHRIWKHIHPLQLQHDUWLFOHWRȤLQFRUUHFWO\ȥPRGLI\WKHZRUG
ȤSDGUHȥPD\LQGLFDWHWKHSRHWȢVYXOQHUDELOLW\DQGWKHIDFWWKDWKHKDGQR
LQWHQWLRQRILQˌLFWLQJSDLQ
7KHDiccionario de la lengua española de la Real Academia Española states
that alma is derived from the Latin anima. The sense of detaching the
son from death evokes the beginning of Gabriela Mistral’s “Sonetos de la
PXHUWH'HOQLFKRKHODGRHQTXHORVKRPEUHVWHSXVLHURQWHEDMDU«DOD
WLHUUDKXPLOGH\VROHDGDȥ
,DPSULPDULO\WKLQNLQJRIWKHVHQVHRIGHˋQLWLRQRIobra in the Diccio-
nario de la lengua española de la Real Academia Española: “10. I$FFLµQ
moral, y principalmente la que se encamina al provecho del alma, o la que le
KDFHGD³RȥXVHGSULPDULO\LQWKHSOXUDO%LEOLFDOUHIHUHQFHVLQFOXGH-DPHV
DQG3HWHUHVSHFLDOO\LQUHODWLRQWREXLOGLQJZLWKVWRQHVLQIXVHGE\
VSLULWRUEUHDWK)DEU\SRLQWVRXWWKDWobra and trabajo are words used in
San Juan’s Cántico espiritual
172 Notes
7KHPRWLIRIWKHVXQLQ*HOPDQȢVSRHWU\LVDFRPSOH[DQGVKLIWLQJRQHQRW
an immutable point of reference by which earthly systems orient themselves
IRULQVWDQFHDVD*RGIRUUHOLJLRQVRUDV5HDVRQIRUWKH(QOLJKWHQPHQW
In Carta abiertaWKHVXQDSSHDUVDVSOXUDO3RHP;;,9IHPLQLQH3RHP
,;SHUVRQDODQGGLPLQXWLYHȤWXVROLWRȥ3RHP9,,,DVDYHUEȤVROH£V"ȥ
3RHP;;,,SRVVHVVLQJDQLPDOIRUFHȤVROTXHEXH\£Vȥ3RHP;;,,DQG
UHSUHVHQWLQJWKHVRQȢVDEVHQFHȤVROGHWXVDXVHQFLDVȥȤUHY«VGHOX]GRQGH
FDOODEDVPXFKRFRPRFDQWRFD\HQGRGHODVROȥ3RHP,;
,Q WKHLU GHWDLOHG DQDO\VHV RI WKHVH ERRNV /LOL£Q 8ULEH DQG 0DU¯D GHO
Carmen Sillato attempt to identify specific texts that Gelman’s poems
may be rewriting, highlighting similarities between the poems and their
presumed sources. They defend this approach by virtue of their under-
standing of the books’s titles. Uribe explains the term citar as a form of
UHIHUHQFHWKDWPDLQWDLQVDȤˋGHOLW\ȥWRLWVVRXUFHDQGcomentar as a mode
RIȤFODULˋFDWLRQȥZKLFKVKHXQGHUVWDQGVDVDIRUPRIȤLQFRUSRUDWLRQȥRU
ȤLQWHJUDWLRQȥRIRQHYRLFHLQWRDQRWKHUȢV6LOODWRREVHUYHVWKDWcitar
FDQDOVRPHDQȤWRPHHWZLWKȥVXJJHVWLQJDIDFHWRIDFHGLDORJXHEHWZHHQ
*HOPDQȢVSRHPVDQGWKHRULJLQDOVRXUFHV7KHDQDORJ\FRPSOHPHQWV
the prosopopoeic address of the other presumed by these and other critics.
Sillato and Uribe follow María Rosa Olivera-Williams’s lead in regarding
Citas and Comentarios as books that express the poet’s determination to
ȤXQLUVHFRQODDXVHQWHȥZKHWKHUWKHREMHFWRIUHFXSHUDWLRQEHDZRPDQRU
the poet’s patria
6LOODWRQRWHVWKDW6DQ-XDQDQG6DQWD7HUHVDZHUHGHVFHQGHQWVRI-HZLVK
converts to Christianity, and that sixteenth-century Christian mysti-
FLVPZDVLQIOXHQFHGE\&DEEDOLVWLFWKHRULHV+RZHYHULQNHHSLQJ
with her comparisons of Gelman’s poems and Santa Teresa’s and San
Juan’s texts, she stresses continuities and similarities between the Chris-
tian mystics and the possible Kabbalistic sources without explaining
the differences between them and their significance for understanding
Gelman’s poetry. For example, although Sillato identifies images such as
GRRUVFLUFOHVDQGEXWWHUˌLHVFRPPRQWRERWKWKH.DEEDOLVWLFDQG&KULV-
WLDQ P\VWLFDO WUDGLWLRQV ȟ VKH GRHV QRW DFNQRZOHGJH WKH EDVLF
difference between the Teresan doctrine of teleological progress toward
God and the Kabbalistic understanding of Messianic change, which rejects
the notion of progress and imagines an end to exile not as a return to a
ȤKRPHȥ RUȤIDWKHUȥ EXW DV WKH XVKHULQJ LQ RI DQ DJH ZLWKRXW VXIIHULQJ
VXFK DV QHYHU EHHQ NQRZQ EHIRUH %XFN0RUVV ȟ 7KH KLGGHQ
influence of Jewish mysticism on the Christian mystical texts cited in
Citas and Comentarios offers insight into Gelman’s approach to tradi-
tion and the use and quotation of older texts. The word Kabbalah means
ȤWKDWZKLFKLVUHFHLYHGWKURXJKWUDGLWLRQȥEXWWKHQRWLRQRIWUDGLWLRQWKDW
it invokes is different from the usual linear structure leading back to an
authoritative original. For Kabbalist scholars, the present time reveals
new aspects to old texts, and vice versa. Reading and interpretation
Notes 173
1. Rimbaud included the image of the seer in at least two letters, one to
*HRUJHV,]DPEDUGGDWHG0D\DQGDQRWKHUWR3DXO'HPHQ\GDWHG
0D\Rimbaud: Complete Works, ȟ+HGHYHORSVWKHLPDJH
more in the second letter.
2. “The Poet makes himself a seer by a long, gigantic and rational derange-
ment of all the senses. All forms of love, suffering, and madness. He searches
himself. He exhausts all poisons in himself and keeps only their quintes-
sences. Unspeakable torture where he needs all his faith, all his superhuman
strength, where he becomes among all men the great patient, the great
criminal, the one accursed—and the supreme Scholar!—Because he reaches
the unknown! Since he cultivated his soul, rich already, more than any man!
He reaches the unknown, and when, bewildered, he ends by losing the intel-
ligence of his visions, he has seen them. Let him die as he leaps through
XQKHDUGRIDQGXQQDPDEOHWKLQJVRWKHUKRUULEOHZRUNHUVZLOOFRPHWKH\
ZLOOEHJLQIURPWKHKRUL]RQVZKHUHWKHRWKHURQHFROODSVHGȥ5LPEDXG
6DHUOLYHGLQ3DULVIURPRQEXWKHDOZD\VUHPDLQHGVWURQJO\LGHQWLˋHG
as an Argentine writer.
7KH HSLJUDSK RI WKH ERRN UHDGVȤ'HO FRQMXQWR GH SD¯VHV LQYLVLEOHV HO
SUHVHQWHHVHOP£VH[WHQVRȥ7KLVVHQWHQFHLVDOVRUHSHDWHGDWWKHEHJLQQLQJ
RIWKHˋQDOFKDSWHUDWZKLFKSRLQWWKHQDUUDWRUPXVHVZKHWKHUKHEHOLHYHV
it to be true, and what it might mean. The repetition of this sentence at the
beginning and at the end of the novel recalls Borges’s use of repetition in
WH[WVVXFKDVȤ/DHVIHUDGH3DVFDOȥZKLFKHPSKDVL]HVWKHGLYLGHGȠZKLFKLV
to say, temporal—nature of the present.
&KHMIHFȢVQRWLRQVRIFRPPXQLW\DQGUHODWLRQDOLW\UHVRQDWHVWURQJO\ZLWK
Jean-Luc Nancy’s influential discussion of community in The Inopera-
tive CommunityZKLFKLVLWVHOISDUWRIDGHFDGHVORQJFRQYHUVDWLRQDERXW
the nature of community, including the voices of Maurice Blanchot and
-DFTXHV'HUULGDDPRQJRWKHUV1DQF\GLVWLQJXLVKHVcommunity from forms
of collectivity based on identity, ideal communion, or collective “produc-
WLRQȥ&RPPXQLW\QDPHVDQLGHDORIEHLQJWRJHWKHUWKDWUHVLVWVDQGUHDFKHV
beyond social and political divisions, administrative organization, and atem-
SRUDOLGHQWLˋFDWLRQVZKHWKHUQDWLRQDOUHJLRQDORUXQLYHUVDOKXPDQLVW)RU
Nancy, community is a temporal, and therefore endlessly shifting, experience
of being-together that is inevitably divided, a shared exposure to an other-
ness that can never be fully known, and which inhabits both self and other.
,QBoca de lobo, Chejfec ironically turns his criticism from journalism to
QDUUDWLYHˋFWLRQVXJJHVWLQJWKDWQRYHOVWHQGWRVWLFNWRWKHVXUIDFHRIWKLQJV
like boats that cross through icy waters, never recognizing how much danger
OLHVEHQHDWK&OHDUO\VRPHQRYHOVDOVRDGGUHVVWKHPXUN\ZDWHUVEHQHDWK
the surface.
7. The figure of intermittent starlight is evocative of Walter Benjamin’s
176 Notes
7KHWHUPȤVDFULILFHȥXVHGLQUHODWLRQWR0ȢVGLVDSSHDUDQFHLVDPELJXRXV,WLV
DVDFULILFHWKDWKDVQRFRQQHFWLRQWRVDOYDWLRQȤ0HUDHOP£UWLUSHURQR
SRUTXHVXVDFULˋFLRHVWXYLHUDGLULJLGRDQXHVWUDVDOYDFLµQVLQRSRUTXHVX
GHVDSDULFLµQHUDQXHVWUDPDUFDȥ0ȢVGLVDSSHDUDQFHLVVDLGWROLYHRQDV
DNLQGRIGHEWWXUQLQJDOOWKRVHZKRUHPDLQLQWRGHEWRUVDFRQFHLWWKDWLV
reiterated in Boca de loboZLWKUHJDUGWRWKHSUROHWDULDW
$VLQKLVREVHUYDWLRQVDERXW6HEDOGȢVZULWLQJ&KHMIHFGHYHORSVDVXVWDLQHG
FULWLTXHRIZKDWKHFDOOVȤPHPRU\DVDSRVLWLYHHQWLW\ȥWKURXJKRXWKLVZRUN
Ȥ(OHVFHQDULRȥ,QLos planetas, we read how “Cada vez hay menos señales
TXHUHPLWHQD«O6µORHQODPHPRULDVHFRQVHUYDQSHUROOHJDXQPRPHQWR
cuando no estamos seguros del verdadero valor de lo guardado, porque así
como podemos decir tantas cosas cuando decimos olvido, muchas de ellas
FRQWUDSXHVWDV\FRPSOHPHQWDULDVWDPEL«QHVYHUGDGTXHDOGHFLUUHFXHUGR
PHPRULDRVLPSOHPHQWHHYRFDFLµQQRGHEHPRVVLQRGHVFRQˋDUWDPEL«Q
DOO¯VHGLVLPXODXQDFXHYDGHVRPEUDVȥȟ
0DUW¯Q .RKDQ REVHUYHV WKDW LQGHWHUPLQDWLRQ LV RQH RI WKH NH\ FRPSR-
nents of this novel: “la novela prescinde así de todas las marcas de lo real
\VHSODQWHDHQW«UPLQRVGHXQDQRWRULDLQGHWHUPLQDFLµQȥȤ(VFULWXUDGH
ORVRFLDO"ȥ:KLOH,DJUHHJHQHUDOO\ZLWKWKLVREVHUYDWLRQWKHYRFDEXODU\
VHHPVWRLQGLFDWHDQ$UJHQWLQHFLW\VFDSHHJȤFROHFWLYRVȥZKLFKLVPRVW
likely the outskirts of Buenos Aires or Rosario. Kohan concedes that the only
thing that breaks through the haze of indetermination is the name Borges,
DQGLQGHHG&KHMIHFVHHPVWREHXSGDWLQJ%RUJHVȢVFKURQRWRSLFˋJXUHRIWKH
ȤRULOODVȥRUXUEDQOLPLWVWRWKHWXUQRIWKHPLOOHQQLXP2QWKLVWURSHVHH
Beatriz Sarlo, and Jenckes, Reading Borges after Benjamin: Allegory, Afterlife,
and the Writing of History, chapter 1.
7KLVGHVFULSWLRQDSSHDUVRQWKHEDFNFRYHURIBoca de lobo.
(YHQEHIRUHKHVSHDNVWRKHUIRUWKHˋUVWWLPHWKHQDUUDWRUREVHUYHVȤ'HOLD
HQFDUQDEDSDUDP¯HOLGHDOGHPXMHUP£VGHVHDEOH\DFDEDGRȥ'DQLHO
Noemi Voionmaa stresses the idealization of the figure of Delia in his
analysis of Boca de lobo in Leer la pobreza en América Latina: literatura y
velocidad.
,DPLQGHEWHGWR%UHWW/HYLQVRQDQG*DUHWK:LOOLDPVIRULQWURGXFLQJPHWR
5DQFLªUHȢVWKRXJKW6HH:LOOLDPVȤ7KH0H[LFDQ([FHSWLRQDQGWKHȡ2WKHU
&DPSDLJQȢȥDQG/HYLQVRQMarket and Thought,&KDSWHU2QDVLPLODU
interpretation of Marx, see Federico Galende’s discussion of the proletariat
LQȤ(OporPDU[LVPRȥ
0HQVDMH3UHVLGHQFLDO6HSWHPEHU
6HH7KD\HUȤ9DQJXDUGLDGLFWDGXUDJOREDOL]DFLµQȥLQPensar en/la postdict-
aduraDQGȤ(O*ROSHFRPRFRQVXPDFLµQGHODYDQJXDUGLDȥEl fragmento
repetido. For his remark on capitalism as rupture, see “The Possibility of
&ULWLFLVPȥNepantla 1:1. For an intriguing alternative perspective on the
178 Notes
DYDQWJDUGHVHH$QGUHHD0DULQHVFXȤ,&DQȢW*R2Q,ȢOO*R2Qȥ6HHDOVRP\
GLVFXVVLRQRI7KD\HUȢVLGHDVLQP\FKDSWHURQ'LWWERUQ&KDSWHU
6HH /HYLQVRQ Ȥ&DVH &ORVHG 0DGQHVV DQG 'LVVRFLDWLRQ LQ 2666ȥ DQG
:LOOLDPVȤ6RYHUHLJQW\DQG0HODQFKROLF3DUDO\VLVLQ5REHUWR%ROD³RȥDQG
“2666DQGWKH(QGRI,QWHUUXSWLRQȥ,WVHHPVWRPHWKDWWKHWHUPȤJHQHU-
DOL]HGPHWRQ\PL]DWLRQȥZKLFK:LOOLDPVFLWHVIURP-HOLFD6XPLFPLJKWEH
said to mirror the blogosphere, where, perhaps not coincidentally, Bolaño’s
work is summarily celebrated, as if viewed as an extension of itself.
,KDYHFRQVXOWHGDQGDWWLPHVUHOLHGRQKHDYLO\WKHH[LVWLQJWUDQVODWLRQVRI
%ROD³RȢVZRUNEXWWKHUHDUHQXPHURXVRFFDVLRQVRQZKLFK,KDYHPRGLˋHG
those translations somewhat heavily. Nonetheless I include page references
WRERWK(QJOLVKDQG6SDQLVKLQWKDWRUGHU
)RUDPRUHGHWDLOHGGLVFXVVLRQRIWKLVVHH6DPXHO:HEHUBenjamin’s –abil-
itiesSSIIIDQG5RVV&KDPEHUVȢVAn Atmospherics of the City:
Baudelaire and the Poetics of Noise. Benjamin focuses on two historical
FRQˋJXUDWLRQVRIPRGHUQLW\WKH*HUPDQ%DURTXHDQGWKHKLJKFDSLWDOLVPRI
QLQHWHHQWKFHQWXU\3DULV,QWKHVHYHQWHHQWKFHQWXU\WKHˋJXUHRIVXEMHF-
WLYLW\ZDVH[HPSOLˋHGLQWKHˋJXUHRIWKHZLO\FRXUWLQWULJXHUZKRZRUNHG
WKHOHYHUVEHQHDWKWKHPDVTXHUDGHRIPRQDUFK\WKHIDFWRIWKLVPDVTXHUDGH
ZDVWKHIRFXVRIWKH*HUPDQ%DURTXHGUDPDDFFRUGLQJWR%HQMDPLQ,QWKH
QLQHWHHQWKFHQWXU\WKHȤFDSLWDOȥRIWKHPRGHUQVXEMHFWZDVSULPDULO\ˋQDQ-
cial, accumulated and displayed in bourgeois living rooms and arcades. For
Benjamin, Baudelaire served as its most astute chronicler: in his work the
danse macabre wins out over the lure of lyric redemption, and the econo-
PLHVRIODQJXDJHDQGVXEMHFWLYLW\DUHOHIWWXPEOLQJRQWKHVHDRIˋQLWXGH
unable to complete their epic adventures and close their economies. In his
work, subjectivity is captured in mid-parry, and economies of all types are
fed counterfeit coins.
6HHIRULQVWDQFHWKHYHUVHVȤ3RXUQȢ¬WUHSDVFKDQJ«VHQE¬WHVȥDQGȤ%HU©DQW
QRWUHLQˋQLVXUOHˋQLGHVPHUVȥ
6HHIRULQVWDQFHȤ&KDTXH°ORWVLJQDO«SDUOȢKRPPHGHYLJLH(VWXQ(OGRUDGR
SURPLVSDUOH'HVWLQȥȤVDQVVDYRLUSRXUTXRLGLVHQWWRXMRXUV$OORQVȥȤ8QH
YRL[GHODKXQHDUGHQWHHWIROOHFULHm$PRXUJORLUHERQKHXU}(QIHU
FȢHVWXQ«FXHLOȥȤULHQQHVXIˋWQLZDJRQQLYDLVVHDX3RXUIXLUFHU«WLDLUH
LQI¤PHȥ
Ȥ/HPRQGHPRQRWRQHHWSHWLWDXMRXUGȢKXL+LHUGHPDLQWRXMRXUVQRXV
IDLWYRLUQRWUHLPDJH8QHRDVLVGȢKRUUHXUGDQVXQG«VHUWGȢHQQXLȥ
,DPJUDWHIXOWR:LOOLDPVIRUOHDGLQJPHWRWKLVSDVVDJHLQKLVSDSHUȤ2666
DQGWKH(QGRI,QWHUUXSWLRQȥ
Ȥ)DLWKDQG.QRZOHGJHȥȤ(DWLQJ:HOOȥHWSDVVLP
1DQF\ DOVR DGGUHVVHV WKH WHUPȤHYLOȥ ȟ 7KLV LQWHUSUHWDWLRQ RI
%ROD³RȢVXQGHUVWDQGLQJRIHYLOGLIIHUVFRQVLGHUDEO\IURP'RYHȢVLiterature
and Interregnum
12. Bolaño enigmatically describes how the documentary of death is really two
ˋOPV,VXJJHVWWKDWWKHVHQVHRIGRXEOHQHVVUHIHUVWRWKHIDOVH
Notes 179
alternative between enslaving and being enslaved. In the former, the “actual
ˋOPȥWKHˋOPPDNHUDWWHPSWVWRDVVHUWWKHVRYHUHLJQW\RIVXEMHFWLYLW\RYHU
death. The latter might be considered the rough footage of the process of
death, more a desert of tedium than an oasis of horror. The director is said
WRGLUHFWWKLVRQHIURPKLV3URFUXVWHDQEHGLQZKLFKFDVHWKHȤˋOPȥPRUH
DQDFNQRZOHGJPHQWRIWKHIDFWRIGHDWKH[SRVHVWKHYLROHQWH[FLVLRQV
behind the ontological ideal of subjectivity. Bolaño’s essay constitutes an
DOWHUQDWLYHWRWKHVHWZRPDVRFKLVWLFˋOPV
,QKLVFRQVLGHUDWLRQRIWKHVKDUHGURRWVRIWKHWHUPVȤHPSLULFLVPȥDQG
ȤH[SHULHQFHȥ 1DQF\ UHVSRQGV WR 'HUULGDȢV FRPPHQWV LQȤ9LROHQFH DQG
0HWDSK\VLFVȥFRQFHUQLQJ/HYLQDVȢVUHIHUHQFHWRDȤUDGLFDOHPSLULFLVPȥDQG
its link to experience. Derrida asks, “But can one speak of an experience of
WKHRWKHURURIGLIIHUHQFH"ȥȤ9LROHQFHDQG0HWDSK\VLFVȥ,WFRXOGEH
said that the entirety of The Experience of Freedom constitutes an attempt to
respond to this question.
Ȥ,PSRVVLELOLW\PHDQVWKDWHWKLFVDQGMXVWLFHFDQˋQGQRSULYLOHJHGJURXQG
for their articulation, no unquestionable epistemological standpoint
somehow removed from the strife, investments and contamination regularly
associated with them. Justice and responsibility are only possible, if they
have a chance of happening at all, starting from their exposure to a strict
DQGXQSUHGLFWDEO\UHFXUULQJSRVVLELOLW\ȥ.HHQDQ
2QWKHˋJXUHRIWKHDE\VVVHH1DQF\Ȥ7KHDE\VVRIIUHHGRPLVWKDWWKHUH
is something, and it is nothing else. It ‘is’ therefore, as abyss, only the
unleashing that emerges ‘out of it,’ or more exactly and because there is no
substantiality or interiority to the abyss, the ‘abyss’ itself—a term still too
evocative of depths—is only the unleashing, prodigality, or generosity of the
EHLQJLQWKHZRUOGRIVRPHWKLQJȥȟ
7\UDQQ\LVWKHURRWRI3HSHȢVHSLWKHWȤ3HSHHO7LUDȥZKLFKKHH[SODLQVUHIHUV
WRKLVSURIHVVLRQtiraLVDFROORTXLDOZRUGIRUFRSSULPDULO\LQ0H[LFREXW
also evokes the tyranny associated with that profession. He asks, “Where
does the word cop come from? It comes from copper, he who cops or caps,
that is captures . . . he who doesn’t have to answer to anyone, who has impu-
nityȥȤ'HGµQGHYLHQHODSDODEUD7LUD"9LHQHGHWLUDQDWLUDQRHOTXHKDFH
cualquier cosa sin tener que responder de sus actos ante nadie, el que goza,
en una palabra, de impunidadȥ7KHWHUPVȤW\UDQWȥDQGȤLPSXQLW\ȥ
hardly seem to apply to the mild-mannered Pepe or the anguished singing
of his aunt. These attributions may be subtle holdovers from other Bolaño
fictions in which he portrays a complicity and complementarity between
defenders of the social order and cutting-edge art. Nevertheless there is a
certain consistency with this story, in which such complicity and comple-
PHQWDULW\LVTXHVWLRQHGIURPZLWKLQLWVLQWHUQDOˌDZVREVHUYHGE\3HSH,
EHOLHYHWKDWLQWKLVFRQWH[WWKHWHUPȤLPSXQLW\ȥUHIHUVQRWWRDVWDWXVDERYH
or beyond the law, or the pain or punishment it entails, although clearly it
HYRNHVVXFKDVWDWXVHQMR\HGE\PDQ\ȤHQIRUFHUVRIWKHODZȥ5DWKHUOLNH
WKHHTXDOO\VXUSULVLQJDWWULEXWHRIȤW\UDQQ\ȥLWVHHPVWRHYRNHDVLPLODU
180 Notes
resonates with the allusion in By Night in Chile to the imbunche, the myth-
ical creature of Mapuche legend created from the capture and mutilation
of a child, a mutilation that includes, among other things, a suturing of his
RULˋFHV7KLVDOOXVLRQLVPDGHLQBy Night in ChileLQUHODWLRQWR6HEDVWL£Q
the son of María Canales and Jimmy Thomson, who torture political dissi-
GHQWVLQWKHEDVHPHQWZKLOHKROGLQJOLWHUDU\VRLU«HVRQWKHPDLQˌRRU7KH
narrator describes his impression of the child as having “los labios sellados,
ORVRMRVVHOODGRVWRGRVXFXHUSHFLWRLQRFHQWHVHOODGRȥZKLOHDWWKHVDPH
WLPHȤHVRV JUDQGHV RMRV YH¯DQ OR TXH QR TXHU¯DQ YHUȥ $V DQ
LPEXQFKHOLNHˋJXUHKHLVDZLWQHVVWKDWFDQQRWZLWQHVVRUZKRVHDWWHVWD-
tion has no outlet, an interesting counterpart to the literati that do not see
what is underneath their noses.
7KHSURMHFWHGLQDELOLW\WRPDLQWDLQKLVILQJHUVLQDQHUHFWSRVLWLRQREYL-
ously implies the expectation of sexual impotence, which corresponds to
the fact that in the midst of his despair Bolaño has just been surprised by
the desire to make love to his doctor. In a section titled “Illness and Height
[estatura@ȥKHFRQVLGHUVWKLVGHVLUHLQUHODWLRQWRWKHQDWXUHRIOLIHDQGWKH
human, beginning with the account of how, after receiving his terminal
diagnosis, “I had the impression that others were crawling on all fours, while
,ZDVXSULJKWȥȟ$WWKHPRPHQWLQZKLFKKHLVDERXWWRIDOO
over from fear and start crawling, the doctor, who is very short, approaches
him to invite him to perform some diagnostic tests, including the test of the
ȤXSULJKWˋQJHUVȥ7KLVH[WHQGHGSOD\RQVWDWXUHWRJHWKHUZLWKWKHQDUUDWRUȢV
observation, as he contemplates his desire for the short doctor, that anyone
DERXWWRGLHLQFOXGLQJȤWKHKHOSOHVVWKHLPSRWHQWWKHFDVWUDWHGWKH
seriously injured, the suicidal, the impenitent disciples [seguidores irre-
dentos@RI+HLGHJJHUȥȟZDQWVPRVWRIDOOWRIXFNWDNHVWKH
notion of human rectitude to its limit. Stature implies stasis, the opposite
RIWKHGLIIHUHQWNLQGVRIWUDYHODQGHQFRXQWHULQFOXGLQJVH[DQGOLWHUDWXUH
invoked throughout the essay.
%ROD³RPHQWLRQV+HLGHJJHUHDUOLHULQWKHHVVD\
'HUULGDQRWHVWKDWWKHUHODWLRQVKLSEHWZHHQWKLQNLQJDQGJUDVSLQJKDVD
long tradition, including key moments in Descartes, and informing much of
+HJHOȢVZRUNȤGechlecht,,+HLGHJJHUȢV+DQGȥȟ:ROIHKLJKOLJKWV
Derrida’s point that an important component of Heidegger’s discussion of
WKHKDQGDQGRIJHQUH*HVFKOHFKWLQJHQHUDOHVSHFLDOO\KLVUHVLVWDQFHWR
evolutionary determinism, concerns his attempt “to distinguish between
the national and nationalism, that is, between the national and a biolo-
JLFLVWDQGUDFLVWLGHRORJ\ȥ'HUULGDTWGLQ:ROIHAnimal Rites,
am indebted throughout this section to the discussions of Heidegger and
Derrida in Lawlor and Wolfe.
'HUULGDȤ+HLGHJJHUȢV+DQGȥ,QThe Experience of Freedom, Nancy writes,
“On the archi-originary register of sharing, which is also that of singulari-
ty’s ‘at every moment,’ there are no ‘human beings’ . . . It is . . . freedom that
gives humanity, and not the inverse. But the gift that freedom gives is never,
182 Notes
1. This is Pablo Oyarzún and Willy Thayer’s gloss on Marchant’s work on the
name of the patria, from their prologue to Escritura y temblor. The allu-
VLRQLVWR0DUFKDQWȢVHVVD\Ȥȡ$WµSLFRVȢȡHWFȢHȡLQGLRVHVSLULWXDOHVȢȥEscri-
tura y temblorȟ6HHDOVR6HUJLR9LOODORERV5XPLQRWWSoberanías en
suspenso
2. I am extrapolating slightly on Richard’s ideas here, combining her descrip-
WLRQRIDȤGXHORKLVWµULFRȥDQGȤXQDWHPSRUDOLGDGQRVHOODGD>@LQFRQFOXVDȥ
LQGLFDWHGE\WKHȤUHIUDFWRU\ȥDHVWKHWLFVRIWKH$YDQ]DGDInsubordinación
ZLWKKHURQJRLQJULJRURXVFULWLTXHRIWKHPHWDSK\VLFDOWHQGHQFLHVRIWKH
political Left in Chile. In Márgenes e instituciones, for instance, she explains
how the Chilean Left sustained a belief that ideological coherence and
historical continuity had merely been interrupted by the military coup. She
describes how its members, largely dispersed and exiled during the dicta-
torship, longed for the “continuity [of history], for a complete and transcen-
GHQWDOPHDQLQJIRUDQRULJLQDQGDGHVWLQ\ȥMárgenes
7KLVLVDOVRIURP2\DU]¼QDQG7KD\HUȢVSURORJXHWREscuritura y temblor.
In another essay, Oyarzún describes Dittborn’s work as interrogating “los
XPEUDOHVFRUSµUHRVGHODKRPLQL]DFLµQȥRabo
'HUULGDXVHVWKHQDPHkhora to designate this sense of spacing beyond
presence or foundation, interiority and exteriority, and anthropo-
theological management of global geographies. He describes it as a
non-place that is nevertheless the possibility of a taking-place or event, “a
support or a subject which would giveSODFHE\UHFHLYLQJRUFRQFHLYLQJȥ
Ȥ.KRUDȥ+HGHVFULEHVDPRGHRIVXVSHQVLRQRUȤLQGHFLVLYHRVFLOODWLRQȥ
188 Notes
epokhéLQZKLFKWKLVVHQVHRIVSDFLQJDVUHFHSWLRQLVHQFRXQWHUHG+H
VWUHVVHVWKDWRQHFDQQRWUHPDLQLQWKLVVWDWHRIVXVSHQVLRQUDWKHULWLVȤWKH
FKDQFHRIHYHU\SRVVLEOHGHFLVLRQȥRUHYHQWȤ)DLWKȥ,ZLOOUHWXUQWRWKLV
later in my chapter.
7KHVHWHUPVGHULYHIURP+HLGHJJHUȢVDWWHPSWWRGLVWLQJXLVKEHWZHHQDQ
ontological poetics capable of revealing the aletheia of Being, and Christi-
anity, which dictates a teleology of revelation through God. In spite of this
dimension to these terms, I believe that what Derrida is saying about them
goes beyond his differences with Heidegger, or rather, can be understood
without recourse to the details of this dispute.
6HHWKHStanford Encyclopedia of PhilosophyHQWU\Ȥ3HLUFHȢV7KHRU\RI6LJQVȥ
-DPHV(ONLQVFDXWLRQVWKDWWKHXVHRIWKHWHUPȤLQGH[ȥLQSKRWRJUDSK\
theory has tended to oversimplify Peirce’s semiotics, in which the index is
described as multifarious and inextricably related to other kinds of signs,
LQFOXGLQJEXWQRWOLPLWHGWRWKHV\PERODQGWKHLFRQ(ONLQVQ
0DU\$QQ'RDQHIROORZLQJ'LGL+XEHUPDQQRWHVWKDWWKHWHUPȤLQGH[ȥ
LPSOLHVWZRLQFRPSDWLEOHRUFRQWUDGLFWRU\GHˋQLWLRQVWKHWUDFHRULPSULQW
IRULQVWDQFHWKHIRRWSULQWDQGWKHGHL[LVWKHZHDWKHUYDQHRUSRLQWLQJ
ˋQJHU7KHIRUPHUVLJQLˋHVȤLWZDVȥDȤEUXWHDQGRSDTXHIDFWȥZKHUHDVWKH
ODWWHULQGLFDWLQJRQO\DGLUHFWLRQLVPRUHOLNHDSURPLVHȟ
7KHSRLQWKHUHLVQRWWRGHPRQL]HUHDOLVWSKRWRJUDSK\EXWWROHDUQKRZWR
approach it critically via montage. See Didi-Huberman’s cautious handling
RI&ODXGH/DQ]PDQQȢVUHMHFWLRQRIȤDUFKLYDOȥSKRWRJUDSK\IIDQGKLV
GLVFXVVLRQRI6LHJIULHG.UDFDXHUȢVFULWLTXHRIFLQHPDWLFUHDOLVPȟ
6HH 7KRPDV 'HDQH 7XFNHUȢV Derridada: Duchamp as Readymade Decon-
structionHVSHFLDOO\&KDSWHUIRUDQLQWULJXLQJGLVFXVVLRQRI'XFKDPSȢV
approach to the traces of time.
2QWKLVVHH)ULHGDVZHOODV(ONLQVDQG.UDXVVLQWKHVDPHYROXPH
especially Krauss’s terse note on how Fried’s “need for artistic control over
HYHU\DVSHFWRIWKHZRUNOHDGVWRKLVVXSSRUWRIGLJLWDOLPDJLQJȥQ
$OVRVHH-RV«3DEOR&RQFKDZKRVWUHVVHVWKHH[FHVVHVWKDWXSVHWWKHLGHDORI
documentary indexicality, which he sees threatened by digital photography
Más allá del referente
11. These analogies are clearly intended as nods to Derrida’s and Benjamin’s
interpretations of translation and inheritance, and in his critique of analog-
ical photography Amelunxen seems to acknowledge what he calls the “alle-
JRULFDOZHDOWKRISKRWRJUDSK\ȥLQZKLFKUHIHUHQFHLVWUDYHUVHGE\différance
to result in the differential, that which concerns the transmission of what is
GLIIHUHQWEXW\HWJHDUHGWRLWVRWKHUVHFWLRQ9,,,DQGQRWH1HYHUWKHOHVV
Amelunxen appears to discard this component when he turns to the nature
of digital photography.
12. This sense of photographic witnessing as interrogation of what is witnessing
DQGZKDWLVZLWQHVVHGUHFDOOV'HUULGDȢVXVHRIWKHWHUPȤUHIHUHQWLDOȥLQȤ7KH
'HDWKVRI5RODQG%DUWKHVȥ
5HL 7HUDGD DOVR GLVFXVVHV WKH ILJXUH RI LQYHQWLRQ LQ 'HUULGDȢV Psyche:
Notes 189
by his most immediate heirs, Oyarzún and Thayer. They call this essay the
SXQFWXPRIWKHERRNDQGGHVFULEHLWDVDSRHPEscritura y temblor
Ȥ3DUSDGHR\SLHGDGȥLVWKHWLWOHRIDQHDUOLHUYHUVLRQRIWKLVHVVD\ZKLFK
is referenced by Nelly Richard in La insubordinacion de los signos. It was
SXEOLVKHGLQDVSDUWRIWKHFDWDORJIRUDQH[KLELWLRQFDOOHGȤ&LUXJ¯D
SO£VWLFDȥDQGZDVUHSULQWHGLQArte, visualidad e historiaȤ,PDJHQ\GXHORȥ
was published in 2000 in Mexico.
1RWHWKDW2\DU]¼QXVHVWKHWHUPȤ$YDQ]DGDȥZLWKUHOXFWDQFHUHPDUNLQJ
WKDWLWȤSRVWXODODXQLGDGUHIHUHQFLDOGHXQDPXOWLWXGKHWHURJ«QHDGHREUDV\
SHVTXLVDVȥ'LWWERUQLVQRWPHQWLRQHGH[SOLFLWO\EXW2\DU]¼QȢVDOOXVLRQV
to reproductivity, seriality, folds, sending, and the Pietá are all suggestive of
Dittborn’s work.
20. Although mentioned only as a function of Kay’s Benjaminian approach,
Oyarzún’s description of the parpadeo is clearly based on an interpreta-
tion of Benjamin’s theory of a dialectical image that erupts into the present
instant, which he describes as an Augenblick. Augenblick is a composite word
WKDWOLWHUDOO\PHDQVȤH\HORRNȥDQGȤLVRIWHQPLVWDNHQO\EXWVXJJHVWLYHO\
WUDQVODWHGLQ(QJOLVK>DV@LQWKHȡEOLQNLQJRIDQH\HȢȥ:HEHUȤ0DVV0HGL-
DXUXVȥ7KHWHUPDSSHDUVWKURXJKRXW%HQMDPLQȢVZULWLQJVRQKLVWRU\
LQFOXGLQJDIDPLOLDUSDVVDJHIURPȤ2QWKH&RQFHSWRI+LVWRU\ȥȤ$UWLFXODWLQJ
the past historically does not mean recognizing it ‘the way it really was.’ It
PHDQVDSSURSULDWLQJDPHPRU\DVLWˌDVKHVXSLQDPRPHQWAugenblick
RIGDQJHUȥ$VRSSRVHGWRDKLVWRULFLVWDSSURDFKWKDWVHHNVWRUHFRQ-
struct the past, Benjamin calls for a historical practice that responds to the
ˌHHWLQJOHJLELOLW\RILPDJHVWKDWˌDVKXQH[SHFWHGO\IURPWKHSDVWOLNHLQYRO-
untary memories. Unsurprisingly, Benjamin suggests that photography
JDLQVLWVVLJQLˋFDQFHIURPLWVHYDQHVFHQWLQFXUVLRQLQWKHAugenblick VHH
:HEHUȤ0DVV0HGLDXUXVDQG%HQMDPLQȤ2Q6RPH0RWLIVLQ%DXGHODLUHȥ
Samuel Weber describes the dialectical image as a momentary interpene-
WUDWLRQRIDFWXDOLW\DQGYLUWXDOLW\Benjamin’s –abilities5HVRQDWLQJZLWK
Oyarzún’s characterization of the image as a promise that relates to both fu-
WXUHDQGSDVWLa dialéctica en suspenso ȟDQGZLWK.D\ȢVDFFRXQWRI
the photographic call to a virtual collectivity, Weber explains this interpene-
tration as the condition of historical possibility. He construes this virtuality
as a becoming readable or recognizable that explodes from the past into the
present, which it reveals as divided and itself virtual, capable of becoming
ȤRWKHUWKDQLWLVDQGKDVEHHQȥ
21. Neither Marchant nor Oyarzún mentions Dittborn’s recurrent invocations
of the Pietá, although since both critics were actively engaged with his work,
they were undoubtedly familiar with it. Marchant discusses Michaelangelo’s
Pietá in Sobre árboles y madres.
)ROORZLQJ0DUFKDQWZKRYLHZVWKHSLHFHDVSUHVHQWLQJWKHTXHVWLRQRI
OLIHRUVXUYLYDOȤHVHVRODYLGD"ȥ2\DU]¼QVWUHVVHVWKHWUDQTXLOLW\DQG
HYHQȤFRQIRUPLGDGȥ LQ 0LFKDHODQJHORȢV GHSLFWLRQ RI 0DU\ȢV H[SUHVVLRQ
Notes 191
)RU2\DU]¼QVXFKFRQIRUPLW\UHODWHVWRWKHȤFRQIRUPLGDGGHOGXHOR
FRPRWUDEDMRGHDPRUȥDJHVWXUHKHFRQVLGHUVUHSHDWHGLQWKH$YDQ-
zada : “No habría opuesto un poder a otro, ilusoriamente, habría buscado no
HQWDEODUUHODFLµQFRQHOSRGHU\VXYLROHQFLD6X¼QLFRVDEHUKDEU¯DHVWULEDGR
HQDˋUPDUTXHHQHODUWHODPD\RUIXHU]DSRVLEOHHUDQRRWUDODIXHU]DGH
SDVLµQHQODKXHOODGHODLPDJHQȥȤ,PDJHQ\GXHORȥ,GLVDJUHHZLWK
such a characterization, which sounds altogether too contemplative, in the
sense Benjamin explicitly rejected. Dittborn’s Pietá, as I will discuss later in
the chapter, rejects any such conformity or withdrawal.
Ȥ1RHVXQFXHUSRFD¯GRVLQRHQWUDQFHGHFDHU\HQHVWHVHQWLGRXQFXHUSR
VXVSHQGLGRFRJLGRHQVXVSHQVR\H[SXHVWRHQYLUWXGGHHVDFRJLGD(OJHVWR
de pietá coge en suspenso ese cuerpo, la mano zurda lo tiende, la mirada
FHODGDORJXDUGDORSURWHJH(OJHVWRGHpietá retiene al cuerpo en una zona
OLPLQDUQRP£VTXHHVRVLQSUHGLVSRQHUORDODUHVXUUHFFLµQȥ2\DU]¼Q
Ȥ,PDJHQ\GXHORȥ
2\DU]¼QGRHVQRWPDNHWKH%HQMDPLQLDQUHIHUHQFHVH[SOLFLWLQWKLVHVVD\
but they are very clearly implied.
5LFKDUGȢV ERRN ZDV SXEOLVKHG LQLWLDOO\ LQ D ELOLQJXDO HGLWLRQ LQ
Margins and Institutions. Art in Chile since 1973. It was republished, entirely
in Spanish, in 2007, together with a new prologue by Richard and essays
SUHVHQWHGDVSDUWRID)/$&62VHPLQDUWLWOHGȤ$UWHHQ&KLOHGHVGH
(VFHQDGH$YDQ]DGD\VRFLHGDGȥ2\DU]¼QȢVFULWLTXHDSSHDUVSULPDULO\LQ
Ȥ&U¯WLFDKLVWRULDȥRQHRIWKH)/$&62WH[WVDQGȤ$UWHHQ&KLOHGHYHLQWH
WUHLQWDD³RVȥERWKIURP6RPHRIWKHFRQFHUQVWKDW2\DU]¼QDUWLF-
XODWHVLQȤ&U¯WLFDKLVWRULDȥUXQWKURXJKRXWWKHRWKHU)/$&62HVVD\VLQ
various formulations. My focus on Oyarzún’s critique is primarily due to
limitations of space, but also to the way it is developed by Thayer and later
E\2\DU]¼QKLPVHOIDQGDOVRLQVSHFLˋFUHODWLRQWR'LWWERUQȢVZRUN
What primarily interests me in this debate is the way Oyarzún, and later
Thayer, explain the relations among criticism, aesthetics, and politics. Con-
sequently I do not include much discussion of Richard’s work or weigh in on
whether I believe their critique to be apt. In her prologue to the revised edi-
tion of Márgenes e instituciones, Richard acknowledges that her tone in the
ERRNZDVSROHPLFDODQGWKDWVRPHRIWKHSURSRVLWLRQVZHUHȤWRRVFKHPDWLFȥ
Ȥ/DXUJHQFLDFU¯WLFRSRO¯WLFDGHDˋODUORVFRUWHVGHODȡDYDQ]DGDȢSDUD
GDUOHPD\RUQLWLGH]GHSHUˋOHV\FRQWRUQRVDXQDVXEHVFHQDTXHHOOLEUR
TXHU¯DGRWDUGHYLVLELOLGDGHVWUDW«JLFD\GHIXHU]DLQWHUSHODQWHHQXQPHGLR
DGYHUVRIRU]µHOWRQRGHOOLEURDVHUP£VDˋUPDWLYRTXHLQWHUURJDWLYRȥ
I believe this goes a long way toward explaining the differences between
Oyarzún’s and Richard’s work: Oyarzún’s tone tends in the opposite direc-
tion, toward the interrogative—sometimes so much so that it threatens to
FDQFHODQ\SRWHQWLDOȤSROLWLFDOȥDIˋUPDWLRQWKHVFDUHTXRWHVLQGLFDWLQJWKH
sense in which the political always necessarily implies an interrogation of
LWVHOI7KHGLIIHUHQFHVEHWZHHQWKHLUDSSURDFKHVSULPDULO\FRPHGRZQWRD
question of naming: whether the act of declaring something political some-
192 Notes
KRZUHGXFHVZKDWȤWKHSROLWLFDOȥPLJKWEH7KHRWKHUSULPDU\GLIIHUHQFH
FRPHVIURPWKHLUSKLORVRSKLFDODIˋOLDWLRQV5LFKDUGȢVXQˌDJJLQJDSSHDOWR
SOXUDOLW\DQGKHWHURJHQHLW\HPHUJLQJIURPDVWURQJDIˋQLW\IRU%DNKWLQDQG
)RXFDXOWGLIIHUVFRQVLGHUDEO\IURP2\DU]¼QȢVLQVLVWHQFHRQVXVSHQVLRQSUL-
PDULO\UHODWHGWR%HQMDPLQDQG'HUULGD9LOODORERV5XPLQRWWSURYLGHVDQ
insightful and nuanced explanation of this debate. He notes that all three
FULWLFVDGGUHVVWKHȤLPDJHRIGLVDSSHDUDQFHȥDQGLWVFKDOOHQJHVWRUHSUH-
sentation, but he stresses that what is at stake in their different approaches
LVDUHODWLRQVKLSWRKLVWRU\EH\RQGUHSUHVHQWDWLRQSoberanías en suspenso,
&KDSWHU0\DFFRXQWRIWKLVGHEDWHRZHVPXFKWRKLVGLVFXVVLRQ6HHDOVR
Paula Cucurella’s “A Weak Force: On the Chilean Dictatorship and the Visual
$UWVȥRQWKHSKLORVRSKLFDODVVXPSWLRQVEHKLQG5LFKDUGȢVZRUN
,QKHUFRQWULEXWLRQWRWKH)/$&62VHPLQDU'LDPHOD(OWLWRIIHUVDQDOWHUQDWH
GHVFULSWLRQRIWKHȤILVXUDHQWUHPDUJHQHLQVWLWXFLµQȥDVDTXDVLVFKL]R-
phrenic state. She says that Richard’s book resembles the works of art it
H[DPLQHVDQGDVVXFKLVDYXOQHUDEOHDQGHPHUJHQWȤODUYDȥVLWXDWHGLQWKLV
ˋVVXUHȤ(OHJLUHODUWHHVVH³DODUVHODUYDȥ(OWLWȤ<DFHULQFXEDGDȥ
2\DU]¼QZULWHVLQȤ$UWHHQ&KLOHGHYHLQWHWUHLQWDD³RVȥȤ(OJLURHVHQFLDO
GHODSURGXFFLµQGHȡDYDQ]DGDȢDHVWHUHVSHFWRHVSDGHFHUHOGDWRSULPDULR
de ese indecible como algo que es clandestino aun para su propio portador,
que, por lo tanto, desarticula las pautas de identidad individual y colec-
tiva . . . aparece aquí como transitoriedad insuprimible, que determina la
índole de obra de estas manifestaciones a partir de la fragilidad de su propio
procesoGHFRQVWLWXFLµQȥ+HVXJJHVWVWZRQDPHVIRUWKLVLUUHSUHVVLEOH
WUDQVLWRULQHVVKLVWRU\DQG&KLOHȤ/RTXHHVWDSURGXFFLµQUHFRQRFHFRPR
VXQRVDEHUHVGHVXVWDQFLDKLVWµULFDȥȤ$FDVRVXLQGHFLEOHHVȡ&KLOHȢFRPR
REMHWRIXJD]GHDOXVLµQȥ7KHSULPDU\GLIIHUHQFHZLWK5LFKDUGȢV
approach is the emphasis on the unsayable and ungraspable nature of this
KLVWRU\+HFRQFOXGHVKLVȤ&U¯WLFDKLVWRULDȥZLWKWKHWKRXJKWWKDW5LFKDUG
KDVQRWVXIˋFLHQWO\H[SORUHGZKDWLVȤGHˋQLWLYDPHQWHLQDUWLFXODEOHȥLQWKH
ZRUNVRIWKH$YDQ]DGD
7KD\HUȢVUHFXSHUDWLRQDQGLQWHQVLˋFDWLRQRIWKLVGHEDWHFXOPLQDWHGLQWZR
HVVD\VWKDWKHZURWHLQDQGUHVSHFWLYHO\WLWOHGȤ9DQJXDUGLD
GLFWDGXUDJOREDOL]DFLµQ/DVHULHGHODVDUWHVYLVXDOHVHQ&KLOHȟȥ
DQGȤ(OJROSHFRPRFRQVXPDFLµQGHODYDQJXDUGLDȥLQFOXGHGLQEl frag-
mento repetido5LFKDUGUHVSRQGHGWRWKLVVHFRQGHVVD\ZLWKDQHVVD\WLWOHG
Ȥ4XL«QWHPHDODQHRYDQJXDUGLD"ȥ$V9LOODORERV5XPLQRWWQRWHVWKH
ideas behind Thayer’s acerbic critique were already explicit in his refuta-
WLRQRI5LFKDUGȢVSUHVHQWDWLRQRIKLVERRNLa crisis no moderna de la
universidad modernaSXEOLVKHGLQ(QJOLVKDVȤ7KH3RVVLELOLW\RI&ULWLFLVP
A Response to Nelly Richard’s ‘The Language of Criticism: How to Speak
'LIIHUHQFH"Ȣȥ$VWULNLQJO\UHYHDOLQJDQDORJ\RIKHULQWHUSUHWDWLRQRIKLVERRN
DVWKHDFWRIDEDGPRWKHUZKRKDVLQˌLFWHGWUDXPDWRKHUQHZERUQJRHVD
long way toward explaining the peculiarly ad mulierem tone that pervades
this short text as well as his subsequent engagements with Richard’s work
Notes 193
Ȥ7KH3RVVLELOLW\RI&ULWLFLVPȥ7KHILJXUHRIWKHPRWKHUVKRXOGEH
understood in psychoanalytic terms, and was invoked in the initial reception
RIKHUERRNDV(OWLWQRWHVLQȤ<DFHULQFXEDGDȥ
(XJHQLR'LWWERUQȢVUHPDUNWKDWFULWLFDOHVVD\VIURP/DWLQ$PHULFDQȤFDQ-
not be translated. In them one is constantly burning what one has said and
VXJJHVWLQJZKDWZLOOQHYHUEHVDLGȥULQJVHVSHFLDOO\WUXHIRU7KD\HUȢVZRUN
Mapa,UHDOL]HWKDWP\DWWHPSWWRȤWUDQVODWHȥVRPHRIKLVWH[WVKHUHYL-
RODWHVZKDWKHPLJKWFDOODQHIIHUYHVFHQFHRIKLVSURVHDQGWKRXJKW,DP
FHUWDLQO\RQWKHVLGHRIȤFULWLFLVPȥUDWKHUWKDQȤWKRXJKWȥLQKLVWHUPV1HY-
HUWKHOHVVPDLQWDLQLQJDGLVWDQFHIURPWKRXJKWLVDNLQWRUHLI\LQJLWP\HI-
IRUWVKHUHDLPWRUHVLVWVXFKUHLˋFDWLRQ,ZDQWWRDGGWKDWP\FULWLTXHRI
Thayer’s work stems from my very deep respect and affection for him. I hope
he understands it as such.
,QȤ7KH3RVVLELOLW\RI&ULWLFLVPȥ7KD\HUVLPLODUO\GHVFULEHVȤFRQWHPSRUDU\
FDSLWDOLVPDVUXSWXUHRIDOOQRUPDOLW\LUUHFRQFLOLDELOLW\DVHIIHFWLYLW\
,W LV SRVVLEOH WKDW 7KD\HUȢV UHIHUHQFH WR DQDVHPLD LV LQIOXHQFHG E\ KLV
mentor Patricio Marchant, who, as Villalobos-Ruminott points out, appealed
to Abraham’s term in his exegesis of Gabriela Mistral’s poetry to describe
DQȤDQWHULRUODQJXDJHȥIURPZKLFKGLIIHUHQWODQJXDJHVHPHUJH0DUFKDQW
Escritura y temblor9LOODORERV5XPLQRWWSoberanías en suspenso
Marchant names this stratum poetic, and describes it as existing within
HYHU\KXPDQEHLQJȤHOSRHPDGHOLQFRQVFLHQWHȥ,QFRQWUDVWWR7KD\HU
however, he affirms the possibility of analysis: “analizar la obra de arte
misma para comprender lo que es obra produce, trae a la luz, como produc-
FLµQPD\RUQXHYDHVDGHFLUFRPRRWUDSRVLELOLGDGRWUDVDOLGDRWUDDOWHU-
QDWLYDȥEscritura y temblor0DUFKDQWOLQNVWKLVQRWLRQRIDQRULJLQDU\
SRHWLFVSDFHWR0LVWUDOȢVZRUNVSHFLˋFDOO\DV9LOODORERV5XPLQRWWSXWVLW
ȤHOWµSLFRSVLFRDQDO¯WLFRGHODPDGUHFRPRˋFFLµQJHQHUDWLYDGHORULJHQȥ
Soberanías del suspenso
$WWKHHQGRIWKLVGLVWLQFWO\DSRFDO\SWLFHVVD\ZKLFKDFNQRZOHGJHVDOPRVW
QRSRVVLELOLW\RIDGLVUXSWLRQWRZKDWKHFDOOVWKHȤK\SHUUHDOLW\RIOLJKWȥ
WKDWLVWKHDEVHQFHRIGLIIHUHQFHWLPHKRSHHYHQWHWFKHJHVWXUHV
toward a potential space of difference in the psyches of the viewers of the
images: “Nosotros, los visitantes, somos su reserva de luz, su secreto, su
novedad y el acontecimiento que la fotografía espera. Bajo la illusion de
LQWHUQDUQRVVXSHUˋFLHDGHQWURODVXSHUˋFLHIRWRJU£ˋFDH[SORUDHQQXHVWUD
IDQWDVLDȥ 7KH ORFDWLRQ RI WKHVH SRVVLELOLWLHVLQIDQWDV\KRZHYHU
threatens to negate any real potential of event, the realm of fantasy func-
tioning as its own kind of [HQRWDˋR. For a compelling discussion of the apoc-
alyptic tendencies in Thayer’s work, see Oyarzún’s review of Thayer’s The
Unmodern Crisis of the Modern University.
+HGHVFULEHVWKHGLDOHFWLFDOLPDJHDVDQȤHVWDGRGHH[FHSFLµQSXUDPHQWH
GHVWUXFWLYRȥ D VXVSHQVLRQ WKDW IRXQGV GHFLGHV OHJLVODWHV UHSUHVHQWV
SURPLVHVQRWKLQJWKHOLPLWDQGGHDWKRIUHSUHVHQWDWLRQDWHPSRUDO
VXVSHQVLRQEHWZHHQWKHȤ\DQRP£VȥDQGWKHȤD¼QQRȥȟ
194 Notes
7KD\HUDFNQRZOHGJHVWKDWKLVERRNOLHVFORVHUWRFULWLFLVPWKDQWRWKRXJKW
although he lays the blame for this at the feet of his editors at Metales
Pesados, a gesture that could be read as guarding the potential of thought in
the autonomy of the writer, which more closely resembles the kind of police
logic that he associates with criticism than with the destruction of inherited
LGHDOVWKDWKHDWWULEXWHVWRWKRXJKW
The kernel of the ideas presented in this book repeat and develop key
SRLQWVIURP7KD\HUȢVˋUVWERRNLa crisis no moderna de la universidad mod-
ernaVHHIRULQVWDQFHDQGDVZHOODVWKHGLVFXVVLRQRIWKHERRNLQ
essays by Oyarzún, Richard, and Thayer’s response to Richard, which antici-
pates the debate about the Avanzada.
2\DU]¼QȢVGHVFULSWLRQRIWKH5HDG\PDGHDVDQHYHQWIUHHGLQWRHYHQWQHVV
LVSUHFHGHGE\DOLVWRIHSLWKHWVWKDW,ˋQGVRPHZKDWWURXEOLQJȤXQHVS¯ULWX
suelto, un espritXQLQJHQLRDELHUWRȥ,FDQQRWKHOSEXWDVVRFLDWHWKLV
characterization with the character Ariel from Shakespeare’s The Tempest,
FODLPHGE\-RV«(QULTXH5RGµDVWKHV\PERORI/DWLQ$PHULFDQVXSHULRULW\
to North American materialism. Whether or not this allusion was intended,
I suspect that Oyarzún’s objective was to stress how Duchamp’s work radi-
cally disturbed the conventional distinction between matter and idea, as an
eminent performance of proto-deconstruction. See Thomas Deane Tuck-
er’s intriguing book Derridada for a detailed discussion of the relationship
between Duchamp and Derrida.
Incidentally, Oyarzún’s interpretation of the Readymade as an event of
eventness differs substantially from Lyotard’s appraisal of Duchamp’s work
DVIXQGDPHQWDOO\WHPSRUDOOLQHDUFRQGLWLRQHGE\WKHˋJXUHRIvanitasKH
LVUHIHUULQJWR/DUJH*ODVVLQGLVWLQFWLRQWR%HUQDUG1HZPDQȢVZRUNZKLFK
KHFRQVLGHUVWRHPERG\WKHHYHQWThe Inhuman
+HGHVFULEHVȤHOPDQWHQLPLHQWRVREUHHODELVPRȥDVȤODFODYHGHOSURSµVLWR
EHQMDPLQLDQRȥȤ6REUHHOFRQFHSWREHQMDPLQLDQRGHWUDGXFFLµQȥ
2\DU]¼QPDNHVVRPHLQWULJXLQJGLVWLQFWLRQVEHWZHHQQDUUDWLYHˋFWLRQDQG
the essay. Using Borges’s work as exemplary of literature’s fundamentally
VNHSWLFDOQDWXUHKHGHVFULEHVKRZWKHVWRULHVRIDˋFWLWLRXVXQLYHUVHLQGL-
cate a deep uncertainty of how the world really is. Using a line from one of
Borges’s essays, he suggests that the form of the essay concerns not only
QRQNQRZOHGJHRUˋFWLRQEXWDOVRWKHSRVVLEOHȤLQPLQHQFLDGHXQDUHYH-
ODFLµQȥDWHQVHUHODWLRQVKLSEHWZHHQWKHDFWLYHGHVWUXFWLRQRIUHFHLYHG
truths, and what may come, what is different and deferred from present
NQRZOHGJHȤ/LWHUDWXUD\HVFHSWLFLVPRȥ2\DU]¼QDOVRGHVFULEHV
KRZLQLWVHDUOLHVW(XURSHDQIRUPWKHHVVD\ZDVIRXQGHGDVˋFWLRQVLQFH
it turned its back toward the conquest of America, and consequently “veri-
ˋHGWKHVSDFHRI(XURSHDQˋFWLRQȥZKLFKKHFRQVLGHUVWKHGRPHVWLFVLGH
RIFRORQLDOLVP%RUJHVLVKHOGXSLQWKLVFRQWH[WDVWKHˋJXUHZKRPRVW
radically opposes such insensibility, developing the form of the essay—
HYHQLQKLVˋFWLRQVȠDVDIXQGDPHQWDOO\$PHULFDQJHQUHDQWLFLSDWLQJDQG
Notes 195
LQYHUWLQJWKHQRWLRQDUWLFXODWHGE\*HUP£Q$UFLQLHJDVWKDWȤ$P«ULFDHV
XQHQVD\RȥTWGLQDQLQYHUVLRQDUWLFXODWHGE\-RUJH3DQHVLȢVDVVHVV-
PHQWWKDWȤ$PHULFDLWVHOILVD%RUJHVHDQVXEMHFWȥ3DQHVL
7KHDVVRFLDWLRQEHWZHHQFRPPXQLFDWLRQDQGFRQVXPSWLRQFRQFHUQVWKH
ideal of a seamless exchange of meaning without remainder, among auton-
omous subjects in control of their language. This resonates with Marchant’s
work, as discussed earlier, and also Thayer’s, as discussed below.
2\DU]¼QLVSOD\LQJKHUHZLWKWKHURRWRIWKHZRUGSHUSOH[LW\perplejidad
which comes from the Latin plectere (and earlier the Greek pleikinZKLFK
means to plait or interweave. In his introduction to the volume, he names
the experience and exploration of perplexity as the core of the critical task
LQȤ7HVLVEUHYHVVREUHDUWH\SRO¯WLFDȥKHGHVFULEHVLWDVȤODP¼OWLSOH
GLVSRQLELOLGDGGHVXFXHUSRDOSDGHFLPLHQWRGHODLQWHUURJDFLµQODDSHU-
WXUDDODGLYHUJHQFLDȥ7KLVQRWLRQRISHUSOH[LW\QRGRXEWDOVRLPSOLHV
a certain relation to the fold or pliegue, which shares the same Greek, if not
/DWLQURRWLWFRPHVIURPplicare rather than plectere
,WLVSRVVLEOHWKDW7KD\HULQWHQGVWKHZRUGperseverar in the psychological
sense of a compulsive repetition detached from the original stimulus. Such a
repetition would, however, like the psychological connotations of anasemia,
challenge the distinction he makes between the primary and secondary
spheres.
'HUULGDPHQWLRQVepokhe throughout his work in relation to a number of
GLIIHUHQWGLVFRXUVHVLQFOXGLQJOLWHUDWXUHLQYRNLQJVSHFLILFDOO\GH0DQȢV
VHQVHRILURQ\DQG&HODQȢVSRHWLFVODZDQGUHVSRQVLELOLW\Ȥ)RUFHRI/DZȥ
ȟPRXUQLQJPolitics of FriendshipDQGIDLWKDVRSSRVHGWRNQRZO-
HGJHZKLFKKHGLVFHUQVDWWKHKHDUWRIWKHWHVWLPRQLDOH[SHULHQFHȤ(SRFKH
DQG)DLWK$QLQWHUYLHZȥLQDerrida and Religion: Other Testaments
Ȥ)DLWKDQG.QRZOHGJHȥ
9LOODORERV5XPLQRWWȢVDSSHDOWRDNLQGRIFDWDVWURSKLFFRQVWHOODWLRQȤFLHOR
GHVDVWUDGRȥLVGHHSO\LQˌXHQFHGE\'LGL+XEHUPDQȢVUHDGLQJRI%HQMDPLQ
VHHIRULQVWDQFHSoberanías en suspenso ȟ
'LGL+XEHUPDQDOVRGHVFULEHVWKLVTXDOLW\RIGLVFRQWLQXLW\RIWKHPRQWDJH
DVLQWULQVLFWRWKHLPDJHLWVHOIVHH9LOODORERV5XPLQRWWȢVUHIHUHQFHWRKLVLa
imagen mariposa in Soberanías en suspenso
6HH 6DPXHO :HEHUȢV GLVFXVVLRQ RI WKH WHQVLRQ EHWZHHQ Einfühlung and
disruption related to montage in Chapter 7 of Benjamin’s –abilitiesHVSH-
FLDOO\DQG
7KHSXEOLVKHGFULWLFLVPRQ'LWWERUQȢVZRUNLVULFKDQGYDULHGDQGVRPH
of what I say will no doubt be repeating what others have said before me.
In the spirit of the collage, however, I hope to bring things together in a
slightly different way, to discuss the ways that Dittborn’s work interrogates
the visual emplacement of the human.
6HH-XVWR3DVWRU0HOODGR
'HUULGDUHPLQGVXVWKDWWKHPXOWLSOHPHDQLQJVDWWULEXWHGWRWKH*UHHNURRW
196 Notes
7KLVPRWLILVGLVFXVVHGE\.D\LQWKHFKDSWHUWLWOHGȤ/DUHSURGXFFLµQGHO
QXHYRPXQGRȥLQDel espacio de acá, as well as by Richard in “Nosotros/Los
RWURVȥ
6HH'RDQHȢVGLVFXVVLRQRI'LGL+XEHUPDQȢVGHVFULSWLRQRIWKHVKURXGRI
7XULQDVWKHHSLWRPHRIWKHLQGH[DVZHOODV7KD\HUȢVȤ(O[HQRWDˋRGHOX]ȥ
discussed earlier, on the notion of photographs as empty cenotaphs, that
is, the converse of indexicality.
Many critics have offered interpretations of the gesture of staining in
'LWWERUQȢVZRUN2QWKLVVHH9DOG«VȢVPRUHUHFHQWHVVD\Ȥ*HVWDȥ5REHU-
WR0HULQRȢVȤ/DUXWDGHODVPDQFKDVȥ5LFKDUGȢVȤ1RVRWURVORVRWURVȥ.D\ȢV
Ȥ(OFXHUSRTXHPDQFKDȥLQDel espacio de acáDQG2VYDOGRGHOD7RUUHȢV
chapter on Dittborn. Oyarzún notes that in the Aeropostales Dittborn
PRYHGDZD\IURPKLVHDUOLHUDSSHDOWRWKHVWDLQHGVKURXGZKLFKVXJJHVWV
a more direct form of indexicality, to the innumerable crossings of an ir-
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Thayer, Brett engages the term entrelugar: “Dittborn’s Airmail Paintings
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nication across distances as a primary concern of Mapa, that is, Dittborn’s
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198 Notes
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August 2011.
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$QVFRPEH2[IRUG%DVLO%ODFNZHOO3ULQW
Wolfe, Cary. Animal Rites: American Culture, the Discourse of Species, and
Posthumanist Theory&KLFDJR&KLFDJR8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV3ULQW
. “CindersDIWHU%LRSROLWLFVȥ,QWURGXFWLRQWR'HUULGDCinders. Minne-
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. What is Posthumanism? Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press,
2010. Print.
Index
$JDPEHQ*LRUJLR[L[[[Lȟ[[LLL %DUWKHV5RODQGȟ
ȟQ ȟQQ
Alter-immunity, alter-immuno- %DXGHODLUH&KDUOHV[[YLLL
ORJLFDO[YL[[LLL[[YLȟ[[L[ ȟȟ
ȟȟ Q
ȟ %HQMDPLQ:DOWHU
QQQSee also ȟȟ
autoimmunity QQȟQQQ
DOWHULW\[LLL[Y[YLLȟ[YL[[[LLLȟ ȟQȟQ
[[LY[[YLL[[L[ȟ[[[ȟ %ROD³R5REHUWR[LLȟ[LLL[[LYȟ[[YL
[[YLLLȟ[[[ȟȟ
ȟQȟQ2666
See also otherness ȟȟQȟQ
$PHOXQ[HQ+XEHUWXVYRQȟ AmuletoȟȤ'HQWLVWDȥ
Q ȟEstrella distante
DSRULDȟȟ ȟQȤ/LWHUDWXUDHQIHU-
ȟ PHGDG HQIHUPHGDGȥȟ
QQQQ ȟȟȟ
DSRVWURSKHDSRVWURSKLF[L[ȟ ȟȟQȟQ
ȟȟ Nocturno de ChileȟQȤ(O
Q SROLF¯DGHODVUDWDVȥȟ
autoimmunity, reactive or indem- ȟQ
QLˋFDWRU\[[YLLLȟ %ROOLJ%HQMDPLQȟQ
ȟQ
DXWRLPPXQLW\QRQLQGHPQLˋ- %RUJHV-RUJH/XLVQ
FDWRU\[YLȟȟ QQQQȟQ
See also Q
alter-immunity %XWOHU-XGLWK
avant-garde, neo-avant-garde,
[[Yȟȟ &DGDYD(GXDUGR
ȟQQQ QQ
217
218 Index
*X\%UHWWȟQ [YLLQODZRIWKHRWKHU
*X\HU6DUDȟ
+¦JJOXQG0DUWLQQ /DZORU/HRQDUGQ
human, humanity, humanism, xi, /HYLQH0LFKDHO[YLLL
[LLLȟ[YLLL[[ȟ[[LL[[LYȟ[[YL
[[L[ȟ[[[ȟ /HYLQVRQ%UHWWQQ
ȟȟȟ QQ
ȟȟ Lezra, Jacques, xiv
ȟȟȟ /LEUHWW-HIIUH\[[LQ
ȟȟȟ /LIH[LLL[Yȟ[YLL[L[[[LL[[LY
ȟQȟQQQ [[YLȟ[[YLLL[[[ȟȟ
ȟQQ ȟȟȟȟ
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ȟȟȟȟ
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[YL[L[[[LLLȟ[[[
ȟȟȟ ȟQ
QQȟQQ
ȟ
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QQȟQSee also
See also survival
autoimmunity
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LQGH[[[L[ȟ
ȟQQ
ȟȟQQ
Q
,RPPL$OIRQVR
Madres de la Plaza de Mayo, 17,
-DPHVRQ)UHGULFQ
ȟQ
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0DUFKDQW3DWULFLR[LLL
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ȟȟȟQ ȟQQQ
MXVWLFH[[L[[LLLȟ[[LY[[YLL 0DULQHVFX$QGUHHDQQ
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0DU[.DUOQ
.D\5RQDOGȟȟQ PHPRU\[YLL[[YLLȟ[[YLLLȟ
Q ȟȟ
.HHQDQ7KRPDVQQ ȟ
Kelsey, Robin, and Blake Stimson, ȟ
Q ȟQQQ
.KDQQD5DQMDQDQ Q
.UDXVV5RVDOLQGȟ 0RUHLUDV$OEHUWR[[LYQQ
ȟQ PRXUQLQJ[LLL[L[[[YLLȟ
ȟ
ODZ[[Lȟ[[LYQ ȟQȟQ
QQODZRILWHUDELOLW\ QQ
220 Index
1DQF\-HDQȟ/XFȟ ȟȟ
ȟQ QQQ
ȟQQ SURVRSRSRHLD[Lȟ
1HUXGD3DEOR ȟȟ
Noemi Voionmaa, Daniel, 177n QQQ
QQ
2OLYHUDȟ:LOOLDPV0DU¯D5RVD
QȟQ 4XLQWDQD,VDEHOQ
otherness, others, the other, xiii,
[Yȟ[[[ȟȟȟ 5DQFLHUH-DFTXHVȟ
ȟȟ redemption, resurrection, salvation,
ȟȟȟȟ UHFRYHU\[L[YL[[YL[[[ȟ
ȟ ȟ
ȟȟ ȟ
ȟȟȟ ȟQQ
ȟQQQȟQ QQ
QQQSee also UHVSRQVLELOLW\[YLLȟ[YLLL[[LLL[[[
alterity
QQQ
2\DU]¼Q3DEOR[[L[ȟ
UHYHODWLRQ[Y[[LL[[Y[[L[
ȟȟȟ
ȟȟ
ȟȟ
ȟȟ
QȟQQȟQ
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QQQ
5LFKDUG1HOO\[LYȟ[Y[[L[
SKRWRJUDSK\[L[ȟ[[[ȟ
ȟ
ȟȟȟ
ȟQQQ
ȟQȟQ
ȟQ ȟQQȟQ
Pietá,[Lȟ[LLL[[L[ȟ 5LFKWHU*HUKDUGȟQ
ȟȟȟ 5LPEDXG$UWKXU[[YLLȟ[[YLLL
ȟQQ ȟȟQ
3RVDGD-RV«*XDGDOXSHȟ 5LVFR$QD0DU¯DQ
5RELQVRQ&UXVRHFKDUDFWHU
SRVVLELOLW\LPSRVVLELOLW\[LY[YLLȟ ȟQ
[YLLL[[Lȟ[[LLL[[YLLȟ[[YLLL[[[
ȟȟ VDFULˋFH[YLȟ[YLL[[LY[[YLL[[[
ȟȟ ȟ
ȟȟȟ ȟ
ȟȟȟȟ QQQQQ
ȟ 6DHU-XDQ-RV«[[YLLȟ
ȟ ȟQ
ȟQQQQQ 6FKPLWW&DUO
QQQQ VHFUHW[L[ȟȟ
pregnancy, engendering, pro- ȟȟQQ
FUHDWLRQ[YLLLȟȟȟ VHQGLQJ[[YLL[[[
Index 221
ȟ ȟȟ
Q QQ
6LOODWR0DU¯DGHO&DUPHQ QQ
ȟȟQȟQ 7XFNHU7KRPDV'HDQHQQ
survival, másvida[YLȟ[YLLL[[LL
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ȟȟȟ
QQ 9DOG«V$GULDQDQQ
VXVSHQVLRQ 9LOODORERVȟ5XPLQRWW6HUJLR
ȟ ȟQ
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QȟQQQ
:HEHU6DPXHOQ
7HUDGD5HLQȟQ QQȟQȟQ
QQ :LOOLDPV*DUHWKQ
7KD\HU[[L[ȟ ȟQQQQ
ȟQQQ :LOOV'DYLGQQ
QQQȟQ witnessing, testimony, xi, xiii, xv,
ȟQ [YLLȟ[[[ȟ
WLPHWHPSRUDOLW\[YLȟ[YLL[[LLȟ ȟȟ
[[LLL[[YLLȟ[[YLLLȟ
ȟȟȟ ȟQQQQ
ȟȟ ȟQ
ȟȟȟȟ :LWWJHQVWHLQ/XGZLJȟQ
ȟQQ Q
QQQȟQ :ROIH&DU\ȟQȟQ
ȟQȟQQ Q
WUDQVODWLRQȟ world, xvii, xix, xxv, xxvii, xxx,
ȟ ȟȟȟ
ȟQQȟQ ȟȟȟ
QQ ȟ
travels, travelers, voyage, xxviii, ȟȟȟ
ȟȟȟ ȟQQQ