“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self:” Writing, Presence, and the Subject in the Work of Samuel Beckett, JacquesDerrida, and Gilles Deleuze Sarah Gendron Marquette University here is a tendency among Beckett scholars to equate Beckett’s work with his life. Beckett himself encourages this type of reading by peppering his work with supposed childhood memories, references to his Irish background (Irish towns, foods, street names, and so on), and by allowing both his English and French language texts to be colored by Irish colloquialisms. Despite the many references in his texts that seem to beg for autobiographical interpretation, I would suggest that Beckett’s work is less an example of autobiography than an illustration of what H. Porter Abbott refers to as “auto-graphy” (35–46). Rather than attempting to define or give shape to his own life—to make himself present to himself through writing—his work explores the notion of the self, the subject, and its relation to the written word. Beckett’s work thus e dialogues with so-called postmodern thinkers like Jacques Derrida and Gilles Deleuze. Beckett, Derrida and Deleuze evoke elements of traditional narrative and of the self in order ultimately to problematize any beliefs we might have about narrative and about the writing/written subject. From their work, we learn that the self is capable of producing text, but it is in turn subject to being produced by text, even, in the end, reduced to nothing more than text itself. T 48 Journal of Modern Literature I. “SELF PRESENTATION:” WESTERN THEORIZATIONS OF PRESENCE AND THE SELF Of Grammatology is Derrida’s major work on the history and status of writing in y Western civilization. It is here that he challenges the long held speech/writing power structure. An offshoot of this hierarchy that is significant in this text is the question of how presence relates (or does not relate) to both writing and to our conceptualization of the self. Focusing primarily on Rousseau’s work as the object of his inquiry, Derrida examines the role that presence has historically played in the construction of the stable, distinct, authoritative, phenomenological subject—a concept of the self that was theorized by Descartes, Rousseau, Hegel, and countless other Western philosophers. According to this model, the self is determined and known only through self-presence. In the case of Descartes, the subject is formed by applying systematic doubt to everything about which the mind cannot be absolutely certain. The Cartesian self is therefore what remains after everything external to the mind, and everything that could be potentially deceptive, has been eliminated. This subject then is arrived at by making the self as “present” to the mind as possible; by a process of self-reflexive mediation. The question many post-structural thinkers have asked themselves is whether or not self-presence is even possible. And if it is not possible, what then becomes of the concept of the phenomenological subject? Jean Starobinski examines this predicament as it relates to Rousseau, who lauded both the healing properties of the present time, saying “The great remedy to the miseries of this world is the absorption into the present moment” (“Le grand remède aux misères de ce monde, c’est l’absorption dans l’instant présent,”)¹ and the related, but certainly not identical idea of presence of being.² Like Descartes, he also based his abstraction of the self on this notion of presence. Yet, as Starobinski notes, in order to show himself for what he really is—to reveal his “true self ” to both himself and to the world—Rousseau does not himself cultivate presence at all: I would love society as much as any other man, where I not sure of showing myself there not only to my disadvantage but quite other than I really am. My decision to write and to hide myself was perfectly suited to me. With me present, no one would f ever have known what I was worth. (Rousseau 116, my emphasis) As Starobinski argues, paradoxically Rousseau must hide “in order to make himself more visible” (125). He must be absent in order to be present. In Difference and Repetition, Gilles Deleuze makes a similar argument about the relationship between the self and self-presence. He begins by asserting that Descartes was correct in stating that one can come to an idea of the self only through contemplation. Unlike Descartes however, Deleuze does not Deleuze actually attributes this new and improved version of the cogito— one he qualifies as a “cogito for the dissolved self ” or the “aborted cogito” (110)—to Emanuel Kant. my emphasis). Billy Whitelaw. Whitelaw asked Beckett whether May was even alive. like . Some of his characters are literally absent in one way or another. Whitelaw was set to play the ephemeral “May”: a character who converses with the many voices in her “poor mind” and denies being where other characters claim to have seen her. “is an Other” (86). a fissure or crack in the pure self of the ‘I think.” Deleuze writes. in the same stroke “he introduce[d] a kind of disequilibrium. as a subject. Paul de Man reasons in his essay “Self (Pygmalion)” that one can know the self by way of self-contemplation. the self can never be present to itself as itself. one of Beckett’s favorite actresses. He claims that the moment Kant called rational theology into question. Oftentimes they are barely present at all. for example.⁴ II. The self has become the equivalent off “the unequal in itself ” (90). “LET’S JUST SAY YOU’RE NOT QUITE THERE:” SELF PRESENCE AND THE BECKETTIAN SUBJECT Though many scholars have noted Beckett’s continual allusions to Descartes’s method of forming the subject through the employment of systematic doubt. it must cease to be the subject that contemplates and become instead the object of contemplation (De Man 168). what e they are is “not quite there. the self must mutate into something other than it is.’ ” It is this “open[ing] of Being directly on to difference” that exposes the “schizophrenic” makeup of the subject: “Underneath the self which acts are little selves which contemplate and f which render possible both the action and the active subject” (75. there is no denying that the subject can “represent its own spontaneity only as an Other” (58)³ only live itself “like an Other within itself. can ever be contemplated by itself. Where Descartes ultimately is able to give form to the subject through self-reflection. In order to contemplate the self.⁵ the results Beckett’s characters get after using this method are dramatically different from those of Descartes. His response has become something of favorite of Beckett scholars: “Let’s just say you’re not quite there” (Connor 24–30). became acutely aware of the ambiguous status of being in Beckett’s work while preparing for a production of Footfalls. This is the status of the majority of Beckett’s characters: if they are. my emphasis). In other words. according to Deleuze “we must always contemplate something else in order e to be filled with an image of ourselves” (74–75. On the contrary. Others. “Auditor” in Not I can.” “I.” This lack of pure presence in the subject comes in a variety of forms. Unsure of the relative nature of her character. But in order to reflect upon the self. as a subject. Like Deleuze. From this point on. be seen but not heard. Beckett’s characters never achieve that same stability.“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 49 believe that the self. but not present either. Mercier. Although there are some e references to characters—many who appeared in Beckett’s earlier novels—who seem to correspond to the traditional subject in that they are endowed with a name and a familiar. cannot be called “present” simply because they are not alive at all.” When trying to define himself. They are. What is more. Molloy. Camier.⁶ But it is not simply s the characters of previous texts that are called into question in The Unnamable. them and all the others. The “characters” of this text. they were invented. “[i]nexistent. he has recoiled into something that no longer has a form or is a form. “by me alone. if one could call them that. within the confines of a skull. for he later states that it is not just s s e that he has a head. . can be heard but not seen. nature and the light of day. Some characters.]. narrating subject is questioned as early as the first words of the text: “Where now? Who now? When now? Unquestioning. yet he is from the start. Murphy. he informs us. According to one of the narrators.” just like “God and man. scarcely audible Willy in Happy Days. Malone are all brought back to life again by the narrator of this text only to be instantly waved away. or is a head. always in the process of expiring. But having the possibility of being both seen and heard is not. whole. There. Moreover. those I have used and those I have not used [. as the title suggests. these identities do not remain stable long. are merely ghost-like. the heart’s outpourings and the means of understanding” (304). inventés pour expliquer je ne sais plus quoi”). rendering their status as characters or subjects questionable: “Let them be gone now. there is nothing “truthful” or “real” about Basil and his gang. But this portrait does not last long. say I. invented to explain I forget what” (“Inexistants. such as the barely visible. now there is no one here but me” (Three Novels 304). like Ada in Embers.” the offstage voice in Footfalls. Sans le penser” (L’Innommable 7)). . Over the course of a few pages. enough to guarantee presence in Beckett’s work.” Soon though he describes his entire being as nothing more than a head. Beckett’s characters do not even seem to be human. he begins by describing his head as “a great smooth ball [he] carr[ies] on [his] shoulders. “a big talking ball” (305). but now exists within form. This is particularly true in The Unnamable. Watt. . Malone of Malone Dies is described as both visible s and audible. in itself. human physical form. Others. but that he is inside a head. exclaiming more than once. are also continuously rendered suspect. Dire je. They are instead ghosts. Beckett had even initially intended to name this work The Absent (One) (Admussen 66).⁷ Even the narrator has ⁷ difficulty comprehending his own limits. Moran. “I don’t know where I end. Unbelieving” (Three Novels 291) (“Où maintenant ? Quand maintenant ? Qui maintenant ? Sans me le s demander. where the idea of an authoritative. I.50 Journal of Modern Literature “V. not entirely absent. this narrator admits. the relationship is delirious in that it does not correspond to the way in which we imagine that s we experience language. the separation between an object and its function. discourse—often more attuned to that of birds—Molloy describes his relationship to language in the following way: “The words I heard were heard [. The Beckettian character shares this fundamental characteristic. the virtual object is the embodiment of self-estrangement: of being Other within itself. Never fully present.] as pure sounds. Beckett’s “subjects” scarcely resemble subjects at all. “VIRTUAL SUBJECTS:” BECKETT’S SUBJECTS AND DELEUZE’S VIRTUAL OBJECTS While this ever morphing narrator of The Unnamable is undoubtedly an extreme e example of a “character. In fact. “there is none”(360). Even his relationship to objects and to language is characterized by a split or separation. ordinary. underneath. paradoxical as it may sound. free of all meaning.” because. wherever they go” (Deleuze 102. they greatly resemble what Deleuze calls the “virtual object. and admits to “strut[ting]” before himself “like a stranger” (Molloy 42).” It is at any time but a “shred or remainder” of what it ought to be (102). It should be noted that Deleuze’s use of the word “virtual” to describe this “object” does not mean that it has no place in the “real. they are also never entirely absent. and Willy never quite there. They are. They have the property of “being and not being where d they are. Constantly signaling his inability to comprehend regular.⁸ For Deleuze. like Ada. as the narrator e of The Unnamable proposes.” he does nonetheless represent the Beckettian subject in that he is distinctly different from the classic Cartesian subject. a word and its meaning. In the most immediately available sense of the word. Indeed. V. the most salient quality of the virtual object is that it “lacks its own identity” (101). This is primarily because it can never. like “Mouth” and I “Auditor” of Not I.” In fact. it is the only “real” thing—subject or object—of which to speak since it is what all metaphysically imagined subjects and objects “really” are. in the end. emphasis in the original). Perhaps.” His relationship with language could thus be characterized by the French word délire. though “Beckett’s subjects” seem to have little in common with those imagined by Descartes. But it is also a relationship that is constitutive of a . It is born of a split within itself that causes it to be forever “displaced in relation to itself ” (105). This is the very condition for its possibility. Molloy exemplifies this schizophrenic subject. and in particular humanization. just who or what the subject is in Beckett’s work in the end “doesn’t matter. . . Split into “[at least] two parts” where one part is “always missing from the other” (100). be anything more than a “fragment of itself. It too is split apart on the inside and is often unrecognizable even to itself.” an entity that escapes determination. He refers to himself alternately in the first person and the third person.“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 51 III. May. consistently forgets his own name. it is in this tenuous place where the self is nearly entirely dispossessed that he accomplishes this endeavor. but I say my pots. “says Malone. and unconscious of his own actions (234). But while Malone claims . writing and stable. Blanchot’s writer’s sacrifice of self in the face of his work is also strikingly reminiscent of Lacan’s “mirror stage. in another” (195.” he begins. or e r a separation of the signifier from the signified. my emphasis). it is a necessity. become other [. “other eyes close” (195). Indeed. be another. who remains unnamed for the first eighty pages of this text. or more specifically by a dé-lier –an un-linking.]” (215–216). Caught up as he is in the act of writing.”¹⁰ All three write of the benefit of the subject perceiving itself as Other.¹³ This projection away from and outside of the self is facilitated by Malone’s recounting of “stories.⁹ In order for words to spill out onto a blank page—for any text to be written—the writing subject must splinter apart and become a stranger to himself. the one that is most illustrative of this process of splintering and self-estrangement of the writing subject is probably Malone Dies. On the contrary. “The work demands. There are moments when Malone is not only completely conscious of the need for this dispossession of self. my window. this is more than a benefit. my emphasis). but also on the verge of “vanishing” (195). in myself. “I succeed in being another”(194).¹² He finds himself not only forgetting his own being (224). However. Despite the negative connotations created by the negative prefi x of the words “un-linking” and “un-reading. . Malone. solidly fi xed identities do not go hand in hand. “that the man who writes it sacrifice himself for the work. as d I say me” (252.52 Journal of Modern Literature general dé-lire (un-reading). . spends his bedridden time alternately thinking about what he owns and who he is in an attempt to both compose his stories and solidify an image of himself.” the foundation of subjectivity. as well as Heidegger’s conception of the forward and outward projection of the self: “l’être-pour-la-mort.” those micro-narratives into which we are drawn and from which we are incessantly ejected. cause to live. This description of the subject’s need to separate from itself is not at all uncommon in contemporary theory. to try and live. In the section entitled “Where Now? Who Now” of The Book to Come. the virtual object is only actualized in splitting up and being divided (Deleuze 112). At some level. Of all of Beckett’s works. Malone is unable to resist the split that occurs within himself: “They are not mine. as the splitting of the subject is impossible to avoid. Maurice Blanchot argues. The fragmentation of the subject is a consequence of being born into language. Blanchot lays the foundations for what he calls the “threat” inherent in all writing to which all writers are subject. or “go[ing] liquid” (225).” the split that occurs within the virtual object is in no way a hindrance to its well being.¹¹ He willingly strives for self-abandon (255) so as to reach the point of finally being able to feel behind his closed eyes. “On the threshold of being no more. but even goes so far as to cultivate his own alterity: “I began again. this is also the condition of possibility for all writing. as I say my bed. . in spite of [his] stories” (257). Malone finds himself at times “swelling. The Unnamable.¹⁴ these fictions ⁴ often lead right back to the teller. this is not at all the case. and Company. n’était l’exactitude prodigieuse de Gaber pour tout ce qui touchait à ces commissions.” (298) Mahood and others before him went so far as to “take themselves” for him (315).” “Ruth” mutates into “Edith.] There were others too. [. But let us leave it at that. this splintering sometimes manifests itself as a mingling of several formerly distinct identities. . .” and finally “Rose.] Have I watched myself live?” [179]). Mais restons-en là. .” In The Unnamable. and always. while this increased self awareness might lead one to believe that Malone does not succeed in making himself Other. la caricature que j’en faisais. m’attendait quelque part.¹⁵ the reader learns that even when speaking of others Malone is still. (“I shall not watch myself die [. . wavering between subject and object: at once on the threshold of holding his own and on the verge of becoming no one at all. By inventing characters in his proper likeness (Sapo/MacMann) and by endowing them with qualities or actions that recall his own. Yet. the party is big enough. no. . en chair et en os. [.] J’ajouterai donc un cinquième Molloy. celui de Youdi. if you don’t mind. J’y ajouterais celui de Youdi.] I will therefore add a fifth Molloy. speaking of himself—perhaps more than ever. the subject does not split into just two parts or hover between only two states of being. in fact. four Molloys. Loy” changes to “Lousse. non. Constantly in the process of changing and growing. Molloy: The fact was there were three. Celui de mes entrailles. si vous voulez bien. The narrator claims.” only to be later baptized as “Sophie.] Il y en avait d’autres évidemment. my caricature of same. “Mrs. In other texts by Beckett. such subjects embody what Deleuze refers to as the only real form of Being: the “being of becoming” (Deleuze 41). . (Molloy 115) y Il y avait en somme trois. Rather than observing his own self-diminishment in the course of recounting his tales.“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 53 to resort to telling himself stories so as to take the focus off himself. . . the subject splinters off into myriad simulacra. He is. that while Basil simply “usurp[ed] [his] name. that of Youdi [. To these I would add Youdi’s were it not for Gaber’s corpse fidelity to the letter of his messages [. Moran is acutely aware of this. The narrator . . Gaber’s and the man of flesh and blood somewhere awaiting me. dans notre petit cercle d’initiés. quatre Molloy. In Molloy. there is no way to stop the proliferation of the Beckettian subjects once it starts—and it has always already started. for example. all throughout this work. Just as there is no way to contain the split within the virtual object from breaking off and splitting indefinitely. of course. He that inhabited me. celui de Gaber et celui qui. but especially where it concerns the object of his quest. (Molloy 156) y This proliferation of identities within one subject is also reflected in the multiple names conferred upon certain characters. I’ll call him Mahood instead. Oh les derniers l tours. [. . sinon nous e n’arriverons jamais.] C’est sa voix qui s’est souvent. once referred to by the narrator as Basil(e). He looks as if he had slowed own. or refused to leave me any more. . sortait de moi. since last year. I never reached them [. only to stumble clumsily over the referents: According to Mahood. “more than once” turns out to be something of an understatement: Decidedly Basil is becoming important. on dirait.]. is at first distinguished from the narrator. entered back into me. “my master” and even “me. I don’t know. But not so fast.54 Journal of Modern Literature himself is not immune to such confusions. He’ll never reach us if he doesn’t l l get a move on. (L’Innommable 37) e Basil(e). depuis l’année dernière. . otherwise referred to as Mahood. toujours. ou n’a plus voulu me quitter. Finally. otherwise we’ll never arrive. Basil(e)/Mahood separates definitively from the narrator (“he left me for good”) or decides never to do so (“or refused to leave me any more”). lived in my stead. issued forth from me. du train où il va. ça va vite. Je ne sais pas comment ça se faisait.” then “il. revenait vers moi. But one of the most extreme examples of this proliferation and shifting of subjects occurs several pages later when the narrator attempts to relate the conclusion of one of his stories. Qui sait s’il arrivera jamais. Next. j’aime mieux ça. and eventually even overcomes him. . Until he left me for good.” . But this “je” quickly transforms into “nous. It was he told me stories about me.” informs the narrator that “je” will never reach his family. and sometimes drowned it completely. he lives in his “stead” and tells him stories about himself. I’m queer. je suis bizarre. a r e my emphasis) In this example. (The Unnamable 309) e Décidément Basile prend de l’importance. C’est lui qui me racontait des histoires sur moi. Ma jambe en moins leur était indifférente. then a part of him. It’s no longer I in any case. I don’t know how it was done [.]. As the following excerpt demonstrates. in a decidedly indefinite move. heaped stories on my head.]. D’ailleurs ce n’est plus moi. . (The Unnamable 318. admitting that “more than once. rentrait dans moi. My missing leg didn’t seem to affect them. . . (L’Innommable 53. mêlée à la mienne. au point quelquefois de la couvrir tout à fait. I took myself for the other”(316). Mais n’anticipons pas. . came back to me. It is his voice that has often. jusqu’au jour où il m’a quitté pour de bon. Je vais donc l’appeler Mahood plutôt. vivait pour moi. je ne sais pas.” and finally “moi/ma. Il a ralenti. m’agonissait d’histoires. he becomes the narrator’s product. Mahood. my emphasis) D’après Mahood je ne suis jamais arrivé [. I prefer that. always. Oh the last laps e e won’t take him long. mingled with mine. en passant par les nuances les plus caractéristiques du désenchantement. how encouraging that would be [. hurler. and multiply to the point where they become completely unrecognizable as subjects.] changeant méthodiquement d’expression. or fallen. . just as the narrator does—“Bah. Worm has real presence: “That would be nice. “ANY OLD PRONOUN WILL DO:” ATTEMPTS TO STABILIZE THE SUBJECT What the subject must submit to The Unnamable is nothing less than an ampue tation of all recognizable body parts. nothing save one lidless and endlessly tearing eye. bless its soul. ouvrir la bouche. . But it is not until Worm is given physical shape in the form of a face that he becomes a satisfactory subject in the eyes of “the committee”: A face. open its mouth. a general disarticulation of the subject. comme se serait agréable [. . It might even pause.]. the chaps clenched to cracking point. one cannot help asking—just as the narrator himself does—“what then is a subject?” If one takes the example illustrated in The Unnamable.] depuis la joie sans mélange jusqu’à la morne fi xité du marbre. raise its eyebrows.¹⁷ But despite . . with feelings and a face to match. one must not assume that just because many of Beckett’s “characters” do not resemble traditional subjects that no attempt was ever made to make them so. . Worm is a case in point. ou ballantes. There is. . [. the committee. s’étonner.¹⁶ Only now can others (Basil[e]. groan and finally shut up.] passing from unmixed joy to the sullen fi xity of marble. gémir et finalement la fermer. In The Unnamable. in other words. “Basil(e) and the gang” try desperately to “humanize” (360) Worm by conferring upon him certain feelings and the ability to hear. balbutier. A presence at last” (362).“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 55 Given the incessant amount of splintering within each subject and shifting between each of them. the narrator and the reader) really relate to Worm. . any old pronoun will do” (343). mutter. stutter. comme se serait encourageant [. (The Unnamable 362) e Un visage. howl. . Il pourrait même s’arrêter. tiens tiens. (L’Innommable 126) e Finally. pour laisser passer l’écume. how pleasant that would be [. one can only respond—indeed. He is an amorphous creature with almost nothing that would link him to what one would traditionally conceive of as a subject. However. to let the dribble out. les mâchoires serrées à se rompre.]. and speak of him using the same clichéd terms as we would use for any cliché of a subject: “Look at ⁷ old Worm. marmotter. via the most characteristic shades of disenchantment. . IV.” we could all say. . Subjects mutate. jubiler. “waiting for his sweetheart” (363). divide. . . . . .56 Journal of Modern Literature their effort. . but it too highlights the impossibility of ever forming a whole subject. . while Worm’s humanization would certainly be “worth seeing. As the narrator concedes. . and all that follows” (307). then on . nothing to reflect the joy of living and succedanea” (367). all that early April morning light .” like all of the others. Company also starts out with what seems to be two subjects engaged in a pseudo-psychotherapy session. . . . a few steps then stop . quoi ? . .” the narrator informs us. non ! . . soon drifting around . a few more . qui ? . . . les yeux dans le vide . . halte et le vide à nouveau . . . but here the roles of the speaker and the listener are reversed. . . . .” It is just a “fairy-tale. However.” Dipping in and out of the past. The attempt to solidify the subject takes the form of a parody of the psychoanalytic endeavor in Beckett’s Not I and Company. yet another. .] . this is the only place in which one can end up: “it is always a third person who says ‘me’ ” (75). gradually all went out . Basil(e) and the others do not succeed in making Worm a human subject. .¹⁸ Less has been written about Beckett’s short prose text Company. . the same limited success as in The Unnamable. puis allez encore quelques . For Deleuze. . . . . . . with however. . “there is no face. . . . . when suddenly . not . . . . Mouth attempts this five times during the play—repeating the pattern “what? who? not . . No work of his is more often quoted as I illustrative of this theme than Not I: a play that is structured like a nightmarish therapy session in which only the most rudimentary elements of the doctor/ patient pairing remain. she! (Not I 37) [. in a gesture of helpless compassion. . . . stare into space .”) verbatim—only to wind up at the same place: the third person singular “she” (“elle”). . .” it is really just a “dream. but in actuality does little more than effect “the simple sideways raising of arms from sides and their falling back. . . . arms. . quand soudain . Mouth recounts what appears to be a story—fragmented though it is—that will eventually lead “her” to say “I/me” [. . tout s’éteint . . . the speaker is not trying to lay claim to the “I” as much as it is trying to help the auditor—or the “hearer”—to do so. début avril . There is a Mouth that attempts to form itself as a subject by taking control verbally of the pronoun “I/me. . nor anything resembling one. In Company. . step and stare again . toute cette lumière matinale . “For here. . and she found herself in the—what? who? . . . . quelques pas puis halte . .” (“quoi? qui? non . . et la voilà dans le . . ainsi de suite . it does so somewhat differently than Not I. elle ! (Pas Moi 82) Yet although it appears that Mouth is on the verge of affirming her selfhood by uttering “I” (moi)— even if it is only to deny herself by saying “I” (moi) after the word “not” (non)—she never does. trunks. with their “heads. . .” There is also an Auditor that presumably listens to the mouth. legs. peu à peu . à la dérive . .] . . ” the voice seeks to prod the hearer into taking on the first person singular pronoun. even if it were only to repeat what it has already said one too many times before: the constant reminder that “You.” (10) twice. never belonging to either one. However. for the “hearer. like the voice. For although the narrator speaks of a certain relief in the thought of the “voice” becoming silent. As the text progresses. “Yes I remember.” this never happens. Gontarski describes this work as a dance: it is a “fugue” between “he” and an external voice which addresses the hearer as “you. and the narrator). S. The hearer. As the title suggests. never hearing either. lying “on his back in the dark. What we witness instead of this condensation of the subject is an apparent accumulation of distinct subjects. What is really being sought is the “I. The few times that the pronoun “I” is actually uttered it is always the “voice” that articulates it. the “voice” uses a method that greatly resembles what one would typically imagine of a therapy session: hypnosis.” the “he.” Little by little the “need” to hear that voice again becomes overwhelming. one can logically assume. the . the collection of short prose texts in y which the English version of Company is published. “is clearly necessary”(11). all “devising it all” for “company. are on your back in the dark” (40). But it is not long before the vast space in which they are initially presented as occupying alone is teaming with various “devised” and “divided” voices (the “voice. To accomplish this goal. The “I” is left floating somewhere between the voice and the hearer.” The narrator presents this desire for company as a primordial need “to temper” the “nothingness” (Nohow On 32) in which we exist. to populate the darkness in which we are.” the “you. into finally uttering.” Beckett reveals in this work the subject’s position in language. as if willing him by this dint to make them his [own].” the “I”. the “craving” for company always inevitably “revives. and never even in relation to itself. speaking and.” “in which the former tries to provide the latter with a history and so a life” (Nohow On xxi). in spite of the voice’s constant prodding for the hearer to become one with the “I.” is exposed to an incessantly repetitive internal cinema of so-called memories and pressed to take them on as representative of his proper past. nor simply “one.” The voice’s objective then is to aid the hearer in the formation of his own being: “to have the hearer have a past and acknowledge it” (24). Repeating these often pathetic tales. “with only minor variants.” explains the narrator. The text begins with only two subjects. this is all done in order to create “company. the “one” who lies on his back in the dark and the “voice” that comes to him. while “the voice alone is company.” it is not enough: “Company apart this effect.” As Deleuze writes.E.“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 57 In his introduction to Nohow On. a position in which one can never be simply alone. this need for company becomes.¹⁹ However. as we “always were.” a matter of desperation akin to an addiction.” “alone” (46). thus never. Malone of Malone Dies is bedridden from the beginning of his narration. [. “whose voice asking this? Who asks. Although Molloy and Moran of Molloy are capable at one point of walking and riding a bike. . V. “A MAN OF LETTERS:” LANGUAGE AND THE SELF IN MALONE DIES AND THE UNNAMABLE In his essay Where Now?Who Now?. . the “shifters” of language. . . Blanchot claims that in order to write there ? must be some form of self-estrangement. Unnamable. This is especially true of Malone Dies and The Unnamable. Last person. and his interests. For the characters of all three texts it manifests itself initially as physical subjugation rather than linguistic. . one accompanies oneself. . But these three texts highlight more than just the physical subjugation of their subjects. the writer with his duties. This idea of the subjugated subject is one that also haunts the pages of the trilogy. (293. Whose voice asking this?” only to respond to himself: “The unthinkable . being Other within the self or even Others within the self. . . my emphasis) e The work demands of the author a transformation not into someone different. but also suggest that we as subjects—especially as writing subjects—are perhaps nothing more than language itself. s which not only underscore how we are born into language and are henceforth subjected to language. but into “no one. It is only “natural” then that the subject automatically “speaks of himself as of another” (18)²¹ and asks. one is one’s own company. is not enough to produce writing. But he suggests that just being split in half.] devienne non pas un autre.²⁰ From the moment the subject enters into language it is multiple: “devised” and “divided.] that the man who writes it sacrifice himself for the work become [. ses satisfactions et ses interêts.” into “the empty and animated space where the call of the work resounds” (216).]. . they both eventually need to rely on crutches or sticks to support themselves and end up unable to leave their beds. . l’écrivain avec ses devoirs. . du vivant qu’il était. r his satisfactions. .].” Like a multi-talented musician. “Subject” is just a name for the constant mingling and separating of various pronouns.] que l’homme qui l’écrit se sacrifie pour l’oeuvre. .²² Company reminds us that being a subject in language entails being subject to language: to internal division and to the transitory character of pronouns.] not other than the living man he was. I” (17). the writing subject must in some sense cease to be: The work demands [. mais plutôt personne [. my e emphasis) L’oeuvre demande [.²³ Blanchot describes this evacuation of self in ominous . non pas.58 Journal of Modern Literature subject can speak of the self “only by virtue of these thousands of little witnesses which contemplate within us” (75). In order for writing to take place. . The narrators of The Unnamable remain motionless throughout the e entire work. but he must become no one [. (215–216. Merciers. defy total dispossession of the self by effecting a continuous “coming and going” between descriptions of his “present state” and the telling of his stories. “assuming it really exists” (255). lead. the fall. Although Malone does. the gulf.” In giving himself over to this demand.” [135]). There are moments when he appears to want to “give himself over” to this threat. His subjective assessment of the existence of his objects²⁵ serves temporarily to reinforce his own sense of being when faced with the threat of self-dispossession. where the “I” is no longer the author but the demand that has dispossessed him. Given this link between possessions and self-possession. With an existence and self-definition that are entirely dependent upon the material tools of language. once indicative of his own self-possession and self definition. . to nothingness . his description of what he calls his “present state” (significantly referred to as time set aside to take inventory of his “possessions”) is meant to do just the opposite. “What I sought. the anxiety of the narrative “I” when faced with a progressive dispossession of the self manifests itself in the narrator’s obsession with his objects. . the letting go. The French expression employed by Blanchot to communicate this notion of “giving in” is “s’y livrer. while he claims to invent stories so as not to “watch” himself. from time to time. .²⁴ Yet. the relapse to darkness. this is not accom⁴ plished without some trepidation on his part. except his “exercise-book. what is to be said of his subject when he himself admits that nothing is his anymore (“plus rien n’est à moi . Morans and Malones” (236). perhaps even becomes the work in the process. to dissolve into this place where the “I” cannot be named. it is not surprising that the narrator/writer is ceaselessly compelled to reassess the objects that surround him and to interrupt consistently his own stories in order to reestablish what is progressively lost.” he explains.Yet if the objects in his possession are indeed constitutive of his being. In Malone Dies.²⁶ This association of his identity with “nothing more”²⁷ than those objects involved ⁷ in writing is further reinforced later in the text when Malone equates his life definitively with his “child’s exercise-book” (274). towards the end of the narration he loses more and more control of himself. there is also an evident distress in the possibility of self erasure. In Malone Dies.“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 59 terms as a “threat” to which the author has no choice but to “give in” (215). reduces the narrative subject to the level of his many disposable “characters”: “the Murphys. Molloys. . Malone often seems actually to desire this self-erasure. .” (195).” an expression which also includes the French word for book: “livre. “was the rapture of vertigo. the author gives himself over to the work. gives in to it. For although there is a “rapture” to be enjoyed in the vertigo of self-loss. Thus.” and a French pencil. Malone—the text seems to suggest—is but a word. The progressive diminishing of what he officially classifies as his possessions. Hence. the logic of Malone’s proclamation towards the end of Malone Dies that he will never really s disappear: “My story ended I’ll be living yet” (283). . and Deleuze—would later theorize about subjectivity. precisely because there is no self outside of language. those that mere. language itself (289). se rencontrant pour dire. and exists only as language: “It all boils down to a question of words. que je les suis tous. Vico . Morans and Molloys—crumble to pieces and lose progressively more and more of their ability to move. (L’Innommable 166) e If the subject is anything. . tous ces étrangers. se fuyant pour dire. Where the “human subjects”—the Malones.²⁹ In his essay “Dante . ceux qui s’unissent. I must not forget this. it is a textual object.] je suis tous ces mots. We cannot come to an idea of the self by way of an exploration of full or sheer presence or even through self-reflection. Derrida. .²⁸ Words in Beckett’s oeuvre are increasingly divorced from any human container. Bruno. ceux qui s’ignorent. . des mots des autres [. produced by.] I’m in words. Lacan. Like everything else that s seems to be. those that part. no sky for their dispersing. made of words. For any Beckett . Not long after making this claim. others’ words [. sans fond où se poser.” which includes but is not limited to his “system of nutrition and elimination” (45).60 Journal of Modern Literature Beckett’s portrait of the self as a linguistic construct anticipates what many post-structuralist thinkers—in particular Barthes. with no ground for their settling. . . Beckett’s illustration of this concept. Joyce. those that never meet.” for which all life eventually become fodder. .]. Similar to Malone Dies. all these strangers. . coming together to say. .] I’m all these words. the narrator plays down the identification of himself with living creatures (“worms” or even Worm) and instead emphasizes his relationship with the second meaning of the word “vers” : [. (The Unnamable 386) e [. fleeing one another to say. while apparent in Malone Dies. all of them. In “Self (Pygmalion)” Paul de Man likewise contends that the self is in fact nothing if not “a structure of tropes” (186). ceux qui se quittent. et pas autre chose . je suis fait de mots. that I am they. .] je suis en mots. . . his existence is predicated upon the “worms. . . He soon admits though that these “possessions” that were the guarantee of his Being are perhaps nothing but “vers. it too is made of. describing it as if the words themselves had a life of their own separate from the events they described. and nothing else [. the words of these texts come to life. cette poussière de verbe. and/or. this dust of words.” words. the narrator of The Unnamable also justifies his existence e by cataloguing what he refers to as “my little heap of my possessions. sans ciel où se dissiper. I have not forgotten it” (335).” In other words. . on “verses.” Beckett characterizes James Joyce’s writing in a similar fashion. becomes much more explicit in The Unnamable. . and glow and blaze and fade and a disappear” (Disjecta 27–28).” or in the French singular by “l’être”—a word that is phonetically identical to “lettres” and therefore shows its difference only in writing.” It is present—but only to the extent that it is absent. When the sense is dancing. content “is” form. .” the words in Joyce’s works are “alive:” “They elbow their way on to the page. is speaking. it remains unidentifiable. dans un endroit dur. Beckett continues. the words dance [.” he quickly follows that up with a denial of this declaration: [. (L’Innommable 166) e The narrating subject is comprised exclusively of words—yet it is also “wordless. which combine and multiply in order to create text. nothing speaks[. . “made of words” and “nothing else. clos. as Barthes said. His writing is not “about” something. sec. it is that something itself. une chose muette. You complain that this stuff is not written in English. noir. Beckett’s works often seem to be generated by words themselves. “when the sense is sleep. .] yes. tout autre chose. despite the fact that we are invited to do so several times by The Unnamable’s narrators. It is not written at all. outside of me . finally.” It is rather. a quite different thing.”). Given the ambiguous. virtually unnamable. “M” and “W”—as opposed to “beings. (The Unnamable 386. these words are sometimes even produced by letters (in French “lettres”)—such as those articulated by the “characters” created to fill the empty space. . Neither one thing nor the other. .]. rien ne parle [. It claims to both participate in its stories and remain outside of them (“I’ll have said it inside me. vide. my emphasis) e [. . For the response to such a question is that no one speaks—no being and no “body.]. this description of Joyce rings more like a characterization of his own work: Here form “is” content. the words. net. . where nothing g stirs.” Light years from “the polite contortions of 20t century printer’s ink. où rien ne bouge. It is to be looked at and listened to. a wordless thing in an empty place. But to equate the Beckettian subject with language alone is naïve and a bit simplistic. the words go to sleep. For. something else. Indeed. .] si. “ça” or “it” that speaks: the text. although this narrator claims to be words. it makes little sense to dwell on the question of who. Thus.“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 61 scholar. . It is not to be read—or rather it is not only to be read. In Company. . que je suis tout autre chose. a hard shut dry cold black place. The only possible “name” that one . then in the same breath. even delicate status of the subject in Beckett’s work.]. that I’m something quite different. . Blanchot’s “rumeur” of language that lives inside of us from the moment of our birth. . it is a name that represents the impossibility of determination and thus nomination: perhaps [. . that Beckett is able to gesture to what lies outside traditional western thought and representation: to that place where the subject “neither is. paradoxically. la chose qui divise le monde en deux. I’m in the middle. Appropriately enough. the co-presence of the other and of the self. the tympanum represents everything that is outside the grasp of representation as we know it.].” But it is by presenting the subject as an entity that is indefinite and unclassifiable. somewhat unfair: “It’s a lot to expect of one creature. . and instead attempting to articulate the unknown as such.” in De la Grammatologie (436). the place that exists outside the metaphysical margins. and y “Du Supplément à la source.] to be borne to the end.62 Journal of Modern Literature could give it. subjectivity. . subject and object. In avoiding the temptation to explain away the unknown. presence and absence. I am working off of Derrida’s definition of the “present” as one of the many sub-determinations that are produced from the association of Being with Presence: “presence of the thing to the sight as eidos. je suis la cloison. then as if he were [. .” in Of Grammatology (309). it gives itself. we permit writing to go on. [. and where the language dies that permits of such expressions. e 2. j’ai deux faces et pas d’épaisseur [. presence as substance/essence/existence [ousia]. I’m the partition. . . the concrete manifestation of the unimaginable in general. Beckett’s indefinable. It names. (L’Innommable 160) e As Derrida argues in his essay of (almost) the same name (“Tympan”). I’m neither one side nor the other. .” Some might say that this is the pensum par excellence. . it symbolizes all that is between speech and writing.] I am the thing that divides the world in two [. . inside and outside.] je suis le tympan [.] I’m the tympanum [.] mince comme une lame. and so forth” (Grammatology. Notes 1. . as it were. [.] thin as foil. to expect this of a subject is. I’ve two surfaces and no thickness. the “tympanum” is the ultimate representative of différance. that hovers between the traditional polarities of being and nothingness. .] c’est peut-être ça que je suis. . . 12). Quoted in Derrida’s “From/Of the Supplement to the Source. .]. . . In plain English. that he should first behave as if he were not. As the narrator of The Unnamable asserts. Denoting on one hand the ear drum and on the other a term associated with the printing press. . . . unexplainable subject is. temporal presence as point [stigmè] of the now or of the moment [nun]. it’s a lot to ask. the self-presence of the cogito. (The Unnamable 383) e [. and thus allows for the textual exploration and recording of the ever “unthinkable unspeakable” (334–335) beyond. origins and copies. intersubjectivity as the intentional phenomenon of the ego. nor is not. je suis au milieu. to say the least. je ne suis ni d’un côté ni de l’autre. consciousness. ] Me suis-je regardé vivre ?” (Malone meurt 8). Seeing only a part of it.“A Cogito for the Dissolved Self” 3.” (Malone Dies 234. Je” (Compagnie 31). “ce à quoi le moi s’est égalisé. 4. du retour au noir. Begam. il n’y a plus que moi ici” (L’Innommable 31). “Ce à quoi je voulais arriver [. devienne autre . 10. 17. t 14. 19. Th is is compounded at the end when the text closes with these very words “plus rien. Malone meurt 100). . t 12. his description of his stick (255). 63 6. t 11.” he is still able to recognize it as not just any stick but the one that belongs to him. Une présence enfin” (L’Innommable 126). Comme tout. “Regarde-moi ce vieux Worm qui attend sa belle” (L’Innommable 127). de la chute. . les élans du coeur et le moyen de comprendre” (L’Innommable 29). One example of this is Sapo’s lack of knowledge with respect to the “art of thinking”: that he did not know to “put the index on the subject and the little finger on the verb” (Malone Dies 193. . . t 13. ceux qui m’ont servi. en moi.] c’était aux extases du vertige. See. however. s t 16. quelquefois je l’oublie. . 5. eux et les autres. “derrière mes yeux fermés. e 8. “Mon histoire arrêtée je vivrai encore” (Malone meurt 183). “Ce serait gentil. . en autrui” (Malone meurt 34). “L’oeuvre demande [. “L’impensable ultime. t 15. 21.] que l’homme qui l’écrit se sacrifie pour l’oeuvre. t 9. repeat “je me rappelle”. ceux qui attendent [. . e 7. être autrui. de l’engouff rement. Innommable. “je recommençais. “représenter sa propre spontanéité que comme celle d’un Autre” (Deleuze 82). See for example Connor. “as of all one sees. que tout est une question de voix. au rien” (Malone meurt 34). “Et à la veille de ne plus être j’arrive à être un autre” (Malone meurt 32). “c’est toujours un tiers qui dit moi” (Deleuze 103). “Dieu et les hommes. à vouloir vivre. t 27. Voilà. “Il ne faut pas oublier. 24. 23. Ce qui se passe ce e sont des mots” (L’Innommable 98). . Kenner and Harvey. “le lieu vide et animé où rétention l’appel de l’oeuvre” (Blanchot 293). e 18. e 22. . 20. “Je ne me regarderai pas mourir [.]. “[la] propriété d’être et de ne pas être là où il est. c’est l’inégal en soi” (Deleuze 121). Toute dernière personne. t . . Malone is in fact Heidegger’s “l’être-pour-la-mort” par excellence. 29. “que par ces mille témoins qui contemplent en nous” (Deleuze 103). “parle de soi comme d’un autre” (Compagnie 33).” (Godot 126). Not long after Malone makes this description. faire vivre. It is interesting to note that the French version does not.” (Blanchot 294). “Que maintenant ils s’en aillent. t 25.” 28. se fermer d’autres yeux” (Malone meurt 35). le jour et la nature. he mentions his own inability to control the t subject and the verb while sleeping: that when dozing off and continuing to write. for example. “à supposer qu’il existe réellement” (Malone meurt 135). du lâchage. 26. où qu’il aille” (Deleuze 135). His very fi rst utterances of this text “I shall soon be quite dead at last “(Malone Dies 179) remind us of that we are indeed born “astride s a grave. the “subject falls far from the verb. Malone s meurt 30). Samuel. Stanford University Press. Company in Nohow On. Trans. Molloy. Charlotte Mandell. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Grove Press. Deleuze. 1988. Paris: Minuit. Malone meurt. Paris: Minuit. Narratricide: Samuel Beckett as Autographe. in Pléiade I. Derrida. John. . Paris: Editions de Minuit. New York: Grove Press. Arthur Goldhammer. 1959. Gontarski. . Nohow On. I Starobinski. De Man. New Haven: Yale University Press. Romance Studies II. London: Faber. Blanchot. H. 1979. Porter. Boston: G. “Du Supplément à la source. 1955. Maurice. 1951. . “From/Of the Supplement to the Source. . Rousseau. Transparency and Obstruction. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. Paul. Beckett. Jacques. 1996. Trans. Trans. Ed.. New York: Grove Press. . Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. . and The Unnamable. . Stanford. Malone Dies. . Not I in The Complete Dramatic Works. The Samuel Beckett Manuscripts: A Study. . Oh les beaux jours suivi de Pas moi. New York. “Rockaby Baby. 1986. Trans. 1967. 1983. London : John Calder. New York: Grove Press. Disjecta: Miscellaneous Writings and a Dramatic Fragment. y . 1976. 1963. The Unnamable. r Connor. The Book to Come. 1956 . Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Grove Press. New York: Grove Press.64 Journal of Modern Literature Works Cited Abbott. Compagnie. 1955. Hall and Co. Jean.” in Allegories of Reading. Richard L. “Self (Pygmalion). . Trans. ” in Of Grammatology. Paris. L’Innommable. Gallimard. Malone Dies.” in City Limits. .” in De la Grammatologie. 1996. . Paul Patton. Samuel Beckett and Patrick Bowles. Paris: Editions de Minuit. New York: Columbia University Press. 1986. 1951. . I Admussen. Three Novels: Molloy. Difference and Repetition. 1953. Paris: Editions de Minuit. g 1979. Le Livre à venir. Gilles. 1987. 1958. Confessions. Différence et répétition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1994. E. .K. Paris : Editions de Minuit. New York. 2003. 1968. Molloy. 1985.
Report "''a Cogito for the Dissolved Self'' - Writing, Presence, And the Subject in the Work of a And Deleuze"