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  • Prof: Now, I don't think it's ever

  • happened to me before-- although it might have but I

  • can't recall its having happened--

  • that I found myself lecturing on a person who had lectured

  • yesterday here at Yale, but that's what happened in

  • this case.

  • You read--let's just call it--the facetious article on the

  • lecture in The Daily News this morning.

  • Some of you may actually have been in attendance.

  • I unfortunately could not be, but as it happened I ran into

  • her later in the evening and talked to some of her colleagues

  • about what she'd said, so I do have a certain sense of

  • what went on.

  • In any case, as to what went on,

  • I'm going to be talking today about the slipperiest

  • intellectual phenomenon in her essay having to do with what she

  • calls "psychic excess,"

  • the charge or excess from the unconscious which in some

  • measure unsettles even that which can be performed.

  • We perform identity, we perform our subjectivity,

  • we perform gender in all the ways that we'll be discussing in

  • this lecture, but beyond what we can

  • perform there is "sexuality,"

  • which I'm going to be turning to in a minute.

  • This has something to do with the authentic realm of the

  • unconscious from which it emerges.

  • What Butler did in her lecture yesterday was to return to the

  • psychoanalytic aspect of the essay that you read for today,

  • emphasizing particularly the work of Lacan's disciple,

  • Jean Laplanche, and developing the ways in

  • which sexuality is something that belongs in a dimension that

  • exceeds and is less accessible than those more coded concepts

  • that we think of as gender or as identity in general.

  • So conveniently enough, for those of you who did attend

  • her lecture yesterday, in many ways she really did

  • return to the issues that concerned her at the period of

  • her career when she wrote Gender Trouble and when

  • she wrote the essay that you've read for today.

  • All right.

  • Now I do want to begin with what ought to be an innocent

  • question.

  • Surely we're entitled to an answer to this question,

  • and the question is: what is sexuality?

  • Now of course you may be given pause--

  • especially if you've got an ear fine-tuned to jargon--

  • you may be given pause by the very word

  • "sexuality," which is obviously relatively

  • recent in the language.

  • People didn't used to talk about sexuality.

  • They talked about sex, which seems somehow more

  • straightforward, but "sexuality"

  • is a term which is not only pervasive in cultural thought

  • but also has a certain privilege among other ways of describing

  • that aspect of our lives.

  • In other words, there is something authentic,

  • as I've already begun to suggest, about our sexuality,

  • something more authentic about that than the sorts of aspects

  • of ourselves that we can and do perform.

  • That's Butler's argument, and it's an interesting

  • starting point, but it's not yet,

  • or perhaps not at all, an answer to the question,

  • "What is sexuality?"

  • Now for Foucault sexuality is arguably something like desired

  • and experienced bodily pleasure, but the problem in Foucault is

  • that this pleasure is always orchestrated by a set of factors

  • that surround it, a very complicated set of

  • factors which is articulated perhaps best on page 1634 in his

  • text, the lower right-hand column.

  • He's talking about the difference between and the

  • interaction between what he calls the "deployment of

  • alliance" and the "deployment

  • of"-- our word--"sexuality."

  • I want to read this passage and then comment on it briefly:

  • "In a word [and it's of course not in a word;

  • it's in several words], the deployment of alliance is

  • attuned to a homeostasis of the social body..."

  • The deployment of alliance is the way in which,

  • in a given culture, the nuclear reproductive unit

  • is defined, typically as the

  • "family," but the family in itself

  • changes in its nature and its structure.

  • The way in which the family is viewed,

  • the sorts of activities that are supposed to take place and

  • not take place in the family-- because Foucault lays a certain

  • amount of stress on incest and the atmospheric threat of

  • incest-- the sorts of things that go on

  • in the family and are surrounded by certain kinds of discourse

  • conveying knowledge-- and we'll come back to the

  • latter part of that sentence-- all have to do with the

  • deployment of alliance.

  • On the other hand, the deployment of sexuality we

  • understand as the way in which whatever this thing is that

  • we're trying to define is talked about--

  • and therefore not by any state apparatus or actual legal system

  • necessarily-- but nevertheless simply by the

  • prevalence and force of various sorts of knowledge police.

  • Okay.

  • To continue the passage: In a word, the deployment of

  • alliance is attuned to a homeostasis [or a

  • regularization; that's what he means by

  • "homeostasis"] of the social body,

  • which it has the function of maintaining;

  • whence its privileged link with the law [that is to say,

  • the law tells us all sorts of things about the family--

  • including whether or not there can be gay marriage,

  • just incidentally: I'll come back to that in a

  • minute]; whence too the fact that the

  • important phase for it is "reproduction."

  • The deployment of sexuality has its reason for being,

  • not in reproducing itself, but in proliferating,

  • innovating, annexing, creating, and penetrating

  • bodies in an increasingly detailed way,

  • and in controlling populations in an increasingly comprehensive

  • way.

  • What he's saying is, among other things,

  • that a deployment of sexuality, which isn't necessarily a bad

  • thing-- these deployments aren't meant

  • somehow or another to be terroristic regimes--

  • a deployment of sexuality, which for example favored forms

  • of sexuality such as birth control or homosexuality,

  • would certainly be a means of controlling reproduction.

  • Just in that degree, the deployment of sexuality

  • could be seen as subtly or not so subtly at odds with the

  • deployment of alliance, alliance which is all for the

  • purpose of reproduction or at least takes as its primary sign,

  • as Foucault suggests, the importance,

  • the centrality, to a given culture--

  • or sociobiological system, if you wil--

  • of reproduction.

  • These are the ways in which the deployment of alliance and the

  • deployment of sexuality converge, don't converge,

  • and conflict with each other.

  • But in all of these ways, we keep seeing this concept of

  • sexuality; but, as I say,

  • it continues to be somewhat elusive what precisely it is.

  • Just to bracket that for the moment, let me make another

  • comment or two on the concepts in the passage that I have just

  • read.

  • Let's say once and for all at the outset that the central idea

  • in Foucault's text, the idea which he continues to

  • develop throughout the three volumes on the history of

  • sexuality-- the central idea is this idea

  • of "power" as something other than that

  • which is enforced through legal, policing or state apparatus

  • means.

  • This is power which is enforced as a circulation or distribution

  • of knowledge, which is discursive in nature,

  • and which enforces its norms for all of us,

  • for better or for worse--because discourse can

  • release and can constitute sites of resistance as well as

  • oppress-- which, for better or worse,

  • circulates among us ideas that are in a certain sense governing

  • ideas about whatever it is that's in question,

  • in this case, obviously, sexuality.

  • Foucault calls this, sometimes hyphenating it,

  • "power-knowledge."

  • This is absolutely the central idea in late Foucault.

  • I introduced it, you remember,

  • last time in talking about Said.

  • I come back to it now as that which really governs--

  • and guides you through--the whole text of Foucault:

  • the distinction between power as it's traditionally understood

  • as authoritative-- as sort of top- down,

  • coming from above, imposed on us by law,

  • by the police, by whatever establishment of

  • that kind there might be-- the distinction between power

  • of that kind and power which is simply the way in which

  • knowledge-- and knowledge is not,

  • by the way, necessarily a good word,

  • it's not necessarily knowledge of the truth--

  • the way in which knowledge circulates and imposes its

  • effects on us, our behavior,

  • the way we are or the way at least that we think we are--

  • the way in which we "perform,"

  • in Butler's term.

  • All of that in Foucault is to be understood as an effect of

  • power-knowledge.

  • Now notice, however, in terms of our question--What

  • is sexuality?--that Foucault is being quite coy.

  • He's talking about sexuality but he's not talking about it in

  • itself, whatever it "in

  • itself" might be.

  • He's talking about the deployment of it,

  • that is to say the way in which power-knowledge constructs it,

  • makes it visible, makes it available to us,

  • and makes it a channel through which desire can get itself

  • expressed, but a channel which is still

  • not necessarily in and of itself that natural thing that we look

  • for and long for and continue to seek: the nature of sexuality.

  • So when the emphasis in Foucault's discussion is really

  • on deployment, that is, the way in which

  • alliance-- the family, whatever the

  • nuclear social structure might be--

  • or sexuality--whatever it is that gets itself expressed as

  • desire-- the way in which these matters,

  • these aspects of our lives, can be deployed,

  • we still aren't necessarily talking about the thing in

  • itself.

  • Foucault isn't an anthropologist.

  • He's not talking about the family in itself either.

  • He's talking about the way in which a basic concept of

  • alliance out of which reproduction arises and gets

  • itself channeled can be deployed,

  • and understood as manipulated by, the circulation of

  • power-knowledge.

  • The issue of gay marriage is very interestingly,

  • by the way, between the concepts of the deployment of

  • alliance and the deployment of sexuality,

  • because there's a certain sense in which the deployment of

  • sexuality is at odds with the deployment of alliance.

  • If sexuality is something that is really just looking around

  • for ways to get itself expressed,

  • taking advantage of deployment where that's a good thing and

  • trying to resist deployment where that seems more like

  • policing-- if it's just looking around for

  • a way to get expressed, it's not particularly

  • interested in alliance.

  • It's not interested in the way in which relationships involving

  • sexuality could settle into any kind of a coded pattern or

  • system of regularity, so that there is this tension

  • which, of course, gets itself

  • expressed whenever, within the gay community,

  • people strongly support gay marriage and see that as the

  • politicized center of contemporary gay life;

  • or people also in the gay community,

  • many of them theoretically advanced,

  • think of it as a non-issue or a side issue which loses track

  • precisely of what Foucault calls the deployment of sexuality,

  • simply trying to extend the domain,

  • arguably a tyrannical domain, of the deployment of alliance--

  • in other words, to redefine the basic concept

  • of alliance in such a way that doesn't really touch very

  • closely on the deployment of sexuality.

  • So it's an interesting and rather mixed set of issues that

  • the whole question, the whole sort of profoundly

  • politicized question, of gay marriage gives rise to.

  • So that's what sexuality is >

  • in Foucault.

  • In Butler it's just clearer that to ask the question--What

  • is sexuality?-- is--well, it's just been a false start.

  • We thought it was an innocent question, but you get into

  • Butler and you see very clearly that you simply can't be

  • a certain sexuality.

  • You can perform an identity, as we'll see,

  • by repeating, by imitating,

  • and by parodying in drag.

  • You can perform an identity, but you can't wholly

  • perform sexuality precisely because of this element of

  • psychic excess to which her thinking continues very candidly

  • and openly and honestly to return.

  • Butler's work, in other words,

  • is not just about "the construction of identity."

  • It's not just about the domain of performance,

  • as one might say.

  • It acknowledges that there is something very difficult to

  • grasp and articulate beyond performance.

  • Its main business is to explain the nature and purview and

  • purposes of performance, but it's nevertheless always

  • clear in Butler, as she returns to the question

  • of the unconscious in particular,

  • that there is something in excess of,

  • or not fully to be encompassed by, ideas of performance.

  • So we've made a false start.

  • We've asked a question we can't answer, but at the same time we

  • have learned certain things.

  • We've learned certainly that sexuality,

  • whatever it is, is more flexible and also in

  • some sense more authentic-- that is to say,

  • closest to the actual nature of the drives.

  • Yesterday Butler made a distinction between instinct and

  • drive which I won't go into because it had to do with her

  • reflections on what is cultural and what is biological or not

  • cultural in the life of the unconscious.

  • For our purposes, whatever role sexuality may

  • play in the unconscious, and however authentic--that is

  • to say, however not culturally

  • determined that role may turn out to be--

  • it's more flexible.

  • That's the important thing, more than any kind of social

  • coding: the sort of coding, for example,

  • that Foucault would indicate in speaking of alliance or deployed

  • sexuality and the sort of coding that Butler refers to repeatedly

  • as "gendering."

  • Still, for both of them--and this is the other thing we've

  • learned-- even sexuality through

  • deployment, or through the way in which it can get expressed in

  • relation to gender and performance, is discursive.

  • It's a matter of discourse.

  • It arises out of linguistic formations,

  • formations that Foucault understands as circulated

  • knowledge and that Butler understands,

  • again, as performance.

  • Foucault sees sexuality as the effect of power-knowledge,

  • power as knowledge.

  • Butler sees it as the effect--insofar as it's visible,

  • insofar as it is acted out--sees it as the effect of

  • performance.

  • So now to take the way in which Butler makes this relationship

  • between what one might suppose to be authentic,

  • actual, all about one's self, and that which is performed,

  • that which is one's constructs toward being a self,

  • let's take one of the most provocative sentences in her

  • essay, which is on page 1711 about a

  • third of the way down: "Since I was sixteen,

  • being a lesbian is what I've been."

  • Now what she's doing--remember at the very beginning of the

  • essay she says that her whole purpose is to reflect,

  • is somehow or another to register a politicized

  • intervention in gender studies in terms of a philosophical

  • reflection-- on ontology,

  • on "being."

  • What is it in other words, she says, to be

  • something?

  • Now what she's doing in this sentence,

  • which is an awkward-seeming sentence,

  • "[B]eing a lesbian is what I've been,"

  • is pointing out to us that to be something is very different

  • from to be "being" something.

  • For example, I can say I'm busy.

  • (By the way, I am.)

  • I can say I'm busy and I expect you to take it that there's a

  • certain integrity, there's a certain authenticity

  • in the fact that I'm busy.

  • Yes, I'm busy, but suppose you say,

  • suspecting that I'm not really busy, "Oh,

  • he's being busy."

  • In other words, he's performing busy-ness.

  • He's going around being busy, sort of imposing on me the idea

  • that this lazy person is actually accomplishing

  • something.

  • So, the performance of being busy.

  • But here's the interesting point that Butler is making:

  • the ontological realm is supposed to be about the simple

  • being or existence of things, and it's always in philosophy

  • contrasted with agency, with the doing of things,

  • with getting something done, with the performance of things.

  • But what Butler is saying--and that's why she says that she

  • takes an interest in the ontological aspect of the

  • question-- what she's saying is that there

  • is an element of the performative which actually

  • creeps into the ontological.

  • Even being, she says, is something that in some

  • measure--perhaps not altogether but in some measure--something

  • we perform.

  • Hence the doubling up of the word "being"

  • in the sentence, "Since I was sixteen,

  • being a lesbian is what I've been."

  • In one sense, yeah, I am--that's what I am,

  • but in another sense I've been performing it.

  • I've been being one.

  • >

  • I've been outing myself, if you will.

  • I have been taking up a role that can be understood,

  • as all roles can, intelligibly in terms of its

  • performance.

  • So that's why she puts the sentence that way,

  • and if you made a big mark in the margin and said,

  • "Aha, got her!

  • This is where she says she really is something.

  • No more of this stuff about just constructivism,

  • making oneself up as one goes along.

  • This is where she says she really is

  • something," then you're wrong.

  • >

  • She's escaped your criticism because she says,

  • "Oh, no, no, no.

  • I have been being a lesbian: I've been being one,

  • which is a different thing, although not altogether a

  • different thing, from being one."

  • She is deliberately, in other words,

  • on the fence between the sense of the ontological as authentic

  • and her own innovative sense of the ontological as belonging

  • within the realm of performance.

  • She doesn't want to get off the fence.

  • She really doesn't want to come down squarely on either side

  • because for her-- and this is what I like best

  • about her work, even though it's perhaps the

  • most frustrating thing about it--

  • because for her, what she is talking about is

  • ultimately mysterious.

  • She has a great deal to say about it,

  • but she's not pretending that in what she has to say about it

  • she's exhausted the "subject."

  • That's why it seems to me to be admirable that she stays on the

  • fence about this, and not simply an occasion for

  • our frustration.

  • So with all of this said--and mystification aside,

  • if you will, as well--with all of this said,

  • it seems plain that Foucault and Butler do have a common

  • political agenda.

  • Foucault is a gay writer who was, in the later stages of

  • writing The History of Sexuality, dying of

  • AIDS; Butler is a lesbian writer.

  • Both of them are very much concerned for the political

  • implications of their marginalized gender roles,

  • while at the same time--of course, being theoretically very

  • sophisticated about them.

  • Their common political agenda is to destabilize the

  • hetero-normative by denying the authenticity,

  • or in Butler's parlance "originality,"

  • of privileged gender roles.

  • In other words, who says heterosexuality came

  • first?

  • Who says the nuclear family is natural?

  • Who says sexuality can only get itself expressed in certain ways

  • that power-knowledge deploys for it?

  • These are the sorts of questions, the politicized

  • questions, which these discourses raise in common.

  • So it seems to me that they have a very broad agenda in

  • common, and it also seems to me that they are very closely in

  • agreement.

  • I say that just in order to pause briefly on the moment in

  • which they seem not to be.

  • You've probably noticed that one text is referring to another

  • at one point in your reading, and so let's go there:

  • page 1712, the right-hand margin.

  • The context for this, of course, is Butler talking

  • about Jesse Helms having deplored male homosexuality in

  • attacking the photography of Robert Mapplethorpe,

  • and by implication, Butler argues,

  • simply erasing female homosexuality because his

  • diatribe pays no attention to it.

  • Butler then complains that there's a certain injustice in

  • that because, in a way, it's even worse,

  • she says, sort of to be declared

  • nonexistent than it is to be declared deviant.

  • At least the male homosexual gets to be declared deviant:

  • we're simply erased.

  • That's the position she's taking here, and then at that

  • point, what she says is: To be prohibited explicitly is

  • to occupy a discursive site from which something like a

  • reverse-discourse can be articulated;

  • to be implicitly proscribed is not even to qualify as an object

  • of prohibition.

  • Here's where she gives us a footnote on Foucault,

  • footnote fifteen (you know we love footnotes):

  • It is this particular ruse of erasure which Foucault for the

  • most part fails to take account of in his analysis of power.

  • Butler's argument is that in Foucauldian terms,

  • there's got to be discourse for there to be

  • identity.

  • Helms's refusal of the category of "lesbian"

  • simply by omission-- and of course,

  • we know, by the way, that this is a refusal

  • only by omission-- Helms's refusal of this

  • category is, in other words,

  • an erasure of discourse.

  • No discourse, no identity.

  • That is, in other words, what Butler is claiming

  • Foucault's position entails.

  • Discourse creates power-knowledge.

  • Power-knowledge creates identity.

  • Therefore, where there's no discourse,

  • there can be no identity, and since Helms has erased the

  • lesbian by refusing discourse about it,

  • it must follow that there is no such thing as a lesbian.

  • That's the implication of this footnote.

  • He almost always presumes [and we must do honor to that word

  • "almost"] that power takes place through

  • discourse as its instrument, and that oppression is linked

  • with subjection and subjectivization,

  • that is, that it is installed as the formative principle of

  • the identity of subjects.

  • Now in defense of Foucault, let's go to page 1632,

  • the upper right-hand column, a passage that's fascinating on

  • a number of grounds.

  • It's rather long but I think I will read it,

  • upper right-hand column.

  • Foucault says: Consider for example the

  • history of what was once "the"

  • great sin against nature.

  • The extreme discretion of the texts dealing with sodomy--

  • that utterly confused category--and the nearly

  • universal reticence in talking about it made possible a twofold

  • operation.

  • Okay.

  • Here's Foucault saying that this is a category.

  • The homosexual identity, as understood in terms of

  • sodomy, is a category.

  • He's going to go on to say that it's punishable in the extreme

  • by law, but in the meantime he's saying there's no discourse.

  • There's a kind of almost universal silence on the

  • subject.

  • You don't get silence in Dante, as I'm sure you know,

  • but in most cases in this period nobody talks about it.

  • It's punishable, severely punishable by law,

  • and yet nobody talks about it.

  • This would seem to violate Foucault's own premise

  • that discourse constitutes identity but also plainly

  • does contradict Butler's claim that Foucault supposes

  • that discourse always constitutes identity.

  • Let's continue: … [T]he nearly universal

  • reticence in talking about it made possible a twofold

  • operation: on the one hand, there was an extreme severity

  • (punishment by fire was meted out well into the eighteenth

  • century, without there being any

  • substantial protest expressed before the middle of the

  • century) [Discourse is here failing also in that it's not

  • constituting a site of resistance,

  • and nobody's complaining about these severe punishments just as

  • on the other hand nobody's talking very much about them:

  • there is, in other words,

  • an erasure of discourse], and [he continues]

  • on the other hand, a tolerance that must have been

  • widespread (which one can deduce indirectly from the infrequency

  • of judicial sentences, and which one glimpses more

  • directly through certain statements concerning societies

  • of men that were thought to exist in the army or in the

  • courts)-- In other words,

  • he's saying there was an identity and that identity was

  • not--at least not very much-- constituted by discourse.

  • As you read down the column, he's going to go on to say that

  • in a way, the plight of the homosexual got worse when it

  • started being talked about.

  • Yes, penalties for being homosexual were less severe,

  • but the surveillance of homosexuality--

  • the way in which it could be sort of dictated to by therapy

  • and by the clergy and by everyone else who might have

  • something to say about it-- became far more pervasive and

  • determinate than it was when there was no discourse about it.

  • In a certain way, Foucault is going so far as to

  • say silence was, while perilous to the few,

  • a good thing for the many; whereas discourse which perhaps

  • relieves the few of extreme fear nevertheless sort of imposes a

  • kind of hegemonic authority on all that remain and constitutes

  • them as something that power-knowledge believes them to

  • be, rather than something that in

  • any sense according to their sexuality they spontaneously

  • are.

  • It seems to me that this pointed disagreement with

  • Foucault, raised by Butler,

  • is answered in advance by Foucault and that even there,

  • when you think about it, they're really in agreement

  • with each other.

  • Foucault's position is more flexible than she takes it to

  • be, but that just means that it's

  • similar to her own and, as I say, that fact together

  • with the broad shared political agenda that they have seems to

  • me to suggest that they're writing very much in concert and

  • in keeping with each other's views.

  • Now in method they are somewhat different.

  • Foucault is a more historical writer, although historians

  • often criticize him for not being historical.

  • The reason historians don't think he's historical is that he

  • never really explains how you get from one moment in history

  • to the next.

  • He talks about moments in history, but he talks about them

  • in terms of bodies of knowledge--

  • "epistemic moments," as he sometimes says.

  • Then these moments somehow mysteriously become other

  • moments and are transformed.

  • The kind of causality that might explain such a thing from

  • an historian's point of view tends in Foucault's arguments to

  • be left out.

  • He nevertheless is concerned, however,

  • with the way in which views of things change over time,

  • and it's the change in those views that his argument in

  • The History of Sexuality tends to concentrate on;

  • so that he can say that starting in the nineteenth

  • century and continuing to the present,

  • there are essentially four cathected beings around which

  • power-knowledge deploys itself.

  • He describes them as the hysterical woman,

  • the masturbating child, the Malthusian couple--

  • meaning the couple that is enjoined not to reproduce too

  • much because the economy won't stand for it,

  • which is a way of, you see, of deploying alliance

  • in such a way as to manipulate and control reproduction.

  • That's a moment, by the way, in which the

  • deployment of alliance and the deployment of sexuality may be

  • in league with each other, because obviously birth control

  • and homosexual practices can also control reproduction.

  • As you see, it's not always a question of conflict between

  • these two forms of deployment.

  • So in any case, there's the Malthusian couple

  • and then the perverse adult, meaning the queer person in

  • whatever form.

  • He says about this--on page 1634 in the left-hand column--

  • that you get these four types, and he says that therapy,

  • the clergy, family, parental advice,

  • and the various ways in which knowledge of this kind

  • circulates have to do primarily with the preoccupation with,

  • tension about, anxiety about these four types.

  • The hysterical woman is determined to be hysterical once

  • it begins to be thought that her whole being is her sexuality.

  • The masturbating child violates the idea that children are born

  • innocent and must be-- because it suggests something

  • terribly wrong about the cult of the innocent child that begins

  • in the nineteenth century-- it's something that is subject

  • to extreme and severe surveillance.

  • "Who knows what will come of this?"

  • Scientific thinking about masturbation had to do with the

  • notion that it led to impotence, that by the time you got around

  • to being in a relationship, there wouldn't be anything

  • there anymore.

  • Just terrible thoughts--also it stunted your growth and you died

  • sooner--just terrible, terrible thoughts about

  • masturbation existed.

  • All of this dominated the scientific literature until well

  • into the twentieth century.

  • Then the Malthusian couple, which was primarily a

  • phenomenon of what's called "political economy"

  • in the earlier nineteenth century but has prevailed,

  • by the way, in what we suppose to be,

  • and indeed what is, our progressive technology of

  • the promotion of birth control around the world.

  • "We must control population"

  • is still the Malthusian principle on which we base the

  • idea that people really need to be enlightened about the

  • possibility of not just having an infinite number of children.

  • Again you see that Foucault is right still to suppose that the

  • notion of the Malthusian couple prevails among us.

  • Then finally the perverse adult, who is first discoursed

  • about in the nineteenth century, as the earlier passage that I

  • read suggested, and is still,

  • of course, widely discoursed about.

  • Of course it now has a voice and discourses in its own right:

  • a literature, a journalism and all the rest

  • of it, and is in other words very much

  • in the mainstream of discourse and still has controversy

  • swirling around it, precisely because of the

  • discursive formations that attach to it.

  • All of this Foucault takes to be in the nature of historical

  • observation.

  • For Butler on the other hand, as you can tell from her

  • style-- I am sure that,

  • as in the case of reading Bhabha,

  • you recognize a lot of Derrida in Butler's style--

  • in Butler it's a question of taking these same issues and

  • orienting them more in the direction of philosophy.

  • I've already suggested the way in which she understands this

  • particular essay as a contribution to that branch of

  • philosophy called "ontology,"

  • the philosophy of being.

  • In general she takes a particular and acute interest in

  • that.

  • Her basic move is something that I hope by this time you've

  • become familiar with and recognize and perhaps even

  • anticipate.

  • For us, perhaps, the inaugural moves of this

  • kind were the various distinctions made by

  • Levi-Strauss.

  • The one that I mentioned in particular--

  • as accessible and I think immediately explanatory of how

  • the move works-- is "the raw"

  • and "the cooked."

  • I tried to show that intuitively, obviously,

  • the raw precedes the cooked.

  • First it's raw, then it's cooked,

  • and yet at the same time if we understand the relationship

  • between the raw and the cooked to be a discursive formation,

  • we have to recognize that there would be no such thing as the

  • raw if there weren't the cooked.

  • If you talk about eating a raw carrot, you have to have had a

  • cooked carrot.

  • You don't just pick up a carrot, which you've never seen

  • before, and say, "This is raw."

  • The only way you know it's raw is to know that it can be and

  • has been cooked.

  • Well, this is the Butler move, the move that she makes again

  • and again and again.

  • What do you mean, the heterosexual precedes the

  • homosexual?

  • What do you mean, the heterosexual is an original

  • and the homosexual is just a copy of it?

  • Who would ever think of the concept of the heterosexual?

  • You're the only person on earth.

  • You stand there and you say, "I'm heterosexual."

  • >

  • You don't do that.

  • You just say, "Well, I have

  • sexuality."

  • You could say that.

  • If you had enough jargon at your disposal,

  • you could say that, but you can't say,

  • "I am heterosexual."

  • You can't have the concept heterosexual without having the

  • concept homosexual.

  • They are absolutely mutually dependent, and it has nothing to

  • do with any possible truth of a chicken and egg nature as to

  • which came first.

  • In sexuality, the very strong supposition is

  • for Butler that neither came first.

  • They're always already there together in that psychic excess

  • with which we identify sexuality,

  • but in social terms the idea that what's natural is the

  • heterosexual and what's unnatural,

  • secondary, derivative, and imitative of the

  • heterosexual is the homosexual is belied simply by the fact

  • that you can't have one conceptually without the other.

  • It's the same thing with gender and drag.

  • Drag comes along and parodies, mimics, and imitates gender,

  • but what it points out is that gender is always in and of

  • itself precisely performance.

  • This could, of course, take the form of a critique,

  • I suppose, but we're all quite virtuoso when it comes to

  • performing.

  • Here I am.

  • I'm standing in front of you performing professionalism.

  • I'm performing whiteness.

  • I'm performing masculinity.

  • I'm doing all of those things.

  • I'm quite a virtuoso: what a performance!

  • >

  • Perhaps it's kind of hard to imagine my standing here sort of

  • exclusively performing masculinity as opposed to all

  • the other things that I am performing,

  • but okay, I'm certainly doing that too.

  • I'm insecure about all of these things, Butler argues,

  • because I keep performing them.

  • In other words, I keep repeating what I suppose

  • myself to be.

  • I'm not comfortable in my skin, presumably, and I don't just

  • relax into what I suppose myself to be.

  • I perform it.

  • It is, in other words, a perpetual self-construction

  • which does two things at once.

  • It stabilizes my identity, which is its intention,

  • but at the same time it betrays my anxiety about my identity in

  • that I must perpetually repeat it to keep it going.

  • All of this is going on in this notion of performance,

  • so what drag does is precisely bring all this to our attention.

  • It shows us once and for all that that's what's at stake in

  • the seemingly natural categories of gender that we imagine

  • ourselves to inhabit like a set of comfortable old clothes.

  • Drag, which is not at all comfortable old clothes,

  • reminds >

  • us how awkward the apparel of ourselves that we can call our

  • identity actually is, and so it plays that role.

  • The relationship between identity and performance is just

  • the same.

  • This notion of performing identity should recall for you

  • "signifyin'" in the thinking of Henry Louis

  • Gates.

  • It should recall for you, in other words,

  • the way in which the identity of another is appropriated

  • through parody, through derision,

  • through self-distancing, and through a sense of the way

  • in which one is something precisely insofar as one is not

  • simply inhabiting the subject position of another.

  • It should also recall for you the "sly civility"

  • of the subaltern in Homi Bhabha's thinking:

  • the way in which double consciousness is partly in the

  • subject position of another, partly in one's own in such a

  • way that one liberates oneself from the sense that it's the

  • other person who is authentic and that one is oneself somehow

  • derivative, subordinate, and dependent.

  • All of these relations ought to gel in your minds as belonging

  • very much to the same sphere of thought.

  • The way in which you can't have the raw without the cooked is

  • the way in which, generally speaking,

  • categories of self and other and of identity per se

  • simply can't be thought in stable terms in and for

  • themselves, but only relationally.

  • Now "why is this literary theory?"

  • you ask yourself, or you have been asking

  • yourself.

  • Of course, Butler gives the greatest example at the end of

  • her essay when she says, "Suppose Aretha is singing

  • to me."

  • "You make me feel," not a natural woman,

  • because there's no such thing as natural.

  • "You make me feel like a natural

  • woman," "you" presumably being some

  • hetero-normative other who shows me what it is really to be a

  • woman.

  • Suppose, however, "Aretha is singing to

  • me," or suppose she is singing to a drag queen.

  • That is reading.

  • That's reading a song text in a way that is, precisely,

  • literary theory.

  • Now obviously I'm thinking of Virginia Woolf's Mr.

  • Ramsay in writing this sentence [gestures to sentence on

  • chalkboard: "The philosopher in a dark mood paced

  • on his oriental rug."].

  • It's a terrible sentence for which I apologize.

  • Virginia Woolf never would have written it;

  • but just to pass in review the way in which what we've been

  • doing is literary theory: the Marxist critic would,

  • of course, focus on "his"

  • because the nexus for the Marxist critic in this sentence

  • would be possession-- that is to say,

  • the deployment of capital such that a strategy of possession

  • can be enacted.

  • The African American critic would call attention to white

  • color-coded metaphors, insisting, in other words,

  • that one of the ways in which literature needs to be read is

  • through a demystification of processes of metaphorization

  • whereby white is bright and sunlit and central,

  • and black, as Toni Morrison suggests in her essay,

  • is an absence, is a negation,

  • and is a negativity.

  • This is bad, a dark mood.

  • For the postcolonialist critic, obviously the problem is an

  • expropriated but also undifferentiated commodity.

  • By "Oriental" you don't mean Oriental.

  • You mean Kazakh or Bukhara or Kilim.

  • In other words, the very lack of specificity in

  • the concept suggests the reified or objectified other in the

  • imagination or consciousness of the discourse.

  • Finally, for gender theory the masculine anger of the

  • philosopher, Mr.

  • Ramsay--you remember he is so frustrated because he can't get

  • past r; he wants to get to s,

  • but he can't get past r--

  • the masculinized anger of the philosopher masks the effeteness

  • of the aestheticism of somebody who has an Oriental rug.

  • That in turn might mask the effete professorial type,

  • that might mask an altogether too hetero-normative

  • sexual predation and on and on and on dialectically if you read

  • this sentence as an aspect or element of gender theory.

  • Okay.

  • I will certainly end there, and next time we'll take up the

  • way in which what we've been talking about for a few

  • lectures, the construction of identity

  • and of things, which has obviously been one of

  • the common features of this course,

  • is theorized at an even more abstract level,

  • with certain conclusions.

Prof: Now, I don't think it's ever

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