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This book, as the author
professes, is an attempt to make Continental philosophy more
accessible to the American academic. Interestingly, the cover of
the book which carries an attractive picture of Julia Kristeva
is intended to break the prudery of the Anglo-American culture
that often deflects desire and seduction towards puritanism and
excessive abstraction. I would venture here to say that French
academics are, by and large, more fashionably turned out than
their British counterparts. Lacan is often remembered for his
fancy ties and his disregard for a proper dress-code, for
instance, and Barthes for his seductive voice. This aspect of
‘sensory pleasure’ is not always considered to be
politically correct by those across the Channel or the Atlantic.
Kristeva is
among the founder members of the journal, Tel Quel, most
of who participated in the events of May 1968. In many ways,
French feminism may also be said to have received its impetus
from the revolutionary environment of 1968 which cried out for
change in the stable subject-positions regarding women. Julia
Kristeva is among the four pioneer French women who cleared the
space for feminist thinking (the others being Luce Irigaray,
Hélène Cixous and Monique Wittig). The shared aims of the
workers and students to bring down the French government also
meant for the intellectual a freedom of expression in the world
of language. By connecting language to the unconscious, an
effort was made to hear the voices that remained subdued by an
ordered, stable and structured language. The repressed dimension
of language came to be equated with unconscious drives, energies
and forces which needed exploring, and which would later be
known in Cixous’s words as écriture féminine or the
feminine practice of writing.
Kristeva
believes that the philosophy of language as it exists is
necrophiliac. But she argues that one’s bodily drives survive
in ‘semiotic’ discourse. She expands the notion of écriture
féminine by putting forward the terms symbolic and
semiotic. The semiotic, which is poetic, musical and rhythmical,
is the site of writing from the woman’s body. It contains art,
poetry, love and psychoanalysis, all of which she regards as ‘imaginative’.
This heterogeneous discourse is disruptive to the ‘order’
and ‘patriarchy’ of the symbolic. For Kristeva readers, the
dual strands of language as perceived from both the above
standpoints explains how language is produced. Needless to say,
both the symbolic and the symbiotic are always present in any
given sample of language. Before her, Roland Barthes had in fact
already put forward the notion of a text of ‘bliss’ and a
text of ‘pleasure’. The former for him brings to the reader jouissance,
a disturbing rupture and violent delight of disruptive intensity
unsettling his or her cultural and historical assumptions. The
latter ends up bringing the much sought after bourgeois element
of contentment which is a desire of having a snug relationship
with language. From confirmatory positivism to the ‘consistently
inconsistent’, from the expected and the unchanging to the
bliss of ceaselessly ‘becoming’: these are the dialectics of
reading.
Kristeva’s Revolution
in Poetic Language is about both facets of knowledge which
are deeply enmeshed in signification, the semiotic referring to
a hidden meaning which is not signified, and the symbolic to an
overt meaning which is almost always signified. As Kristeva
writes poignantly: ‘If we did not ceaselessly expose the
strangeness of our internal life – and transpose it
ceaselessly into other signs, would there be a life of the
psyche, would we be living beings?’
The above also highlights the
ambiguity between the public and the private which Smith brings
out: in adopting the West, Kristeva effectively abandoned her
native country and never visited home until the fall of the
Berlin Wall in 1989. Kristeva experienced the emotions of being
a dissident, a foreigner and a woman in the male order of things
all at once. These are subject-positions which have enabled her
to be interrogative, to inhabit spaces both inside and out, to
be French and ‘perfectly foreign at home’, an
anti-nationalist as well as a cosmopolitan obsessed with the
questions of justice and injustice – all of which can only be
the prerogatives of an exile.
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