Many thanks to Evens, Ocana, Seigworth, Goodchild and others for rich,
splendid, and thoughtful recent postings. I am reading Deleuze's LS, AO,
Bergsonism, D&R, together with Klossowski and Blanchot in an attempt to
understand his unfairly neglected film books. I am trapped in a jumble of
superimpositons of spiritual automata, BwOs, suspensions, acts, pure pasts,
cones, virtuals and actuals--and I like it. Because he is without doubt
thinking very profoundly and severly as well as quite obviously
enthusiastically. Let me also quote from Lispector's *G.H.*: "And my
impersonal soul scorches me. A star's grandiose indifference is the
cockroach's soul, the star is the very exhorbitance of the cockroach's
body" [115].
Isn't Deleuze, in his way, like Blanchot, obsessed with the Neuter, with
implacable indiffenence--as when you love someone who doesn't love you (I
borrow this comparison from a private message from R. Thomas). Isn't
discontinuity for D (as for Blanchot) a contact with an Outside. Doesn't
this indifference act on a part of me that is also indifferent to me (my
impersonal soul--a BwO?)? Or am I way off the mark here? There is an
inhuman indifference at work throughout D's writings and the "pure past"
(which is also dispersion--thanks) is the "image" of that indifference. ??
It acts the way "it rains". (Deleuze compares cinema to rain somewhere).
When I love someone who doesn't love me my love is dispersed--this is the
contact with an Outside--and the one I love sinks back into the void: every
encounter with her is a fragment of nothing, my very body a superfluous
mass of sensation. The presence of the one who does not love me is
precisely a non-presence, a past/future because he or she looks at me from
before/beyond my love for her as if I (her lover) was not there.
Am I on to anything here?
Still in the Void,
Tom
------------------
splendid, and thoughtful recent postings. I am reading Deleuze's LS, AO,
Bergsonism, D&R, together with Klossowski and Blanchot in an attempt to
understand his unfairly neglected film books. I am trapped in a jumble of
superimpositons of spiritual automata, BwOs, suspensions, acts, pure pasts,
cones, virtuals and actuals--and I like it. Because he is without doubt
thinking very profoundly and severly as well as quite obviously
enthusiastically. Let me also quote from Lispector's *G.H.*: "And my
impersonal soul scorches me. A star's grandiose indifference is the
cockroach's soul, the star is the very exhorbitance of the cockroach's
body" [115].
Isn't Deleuze, in his way, like Blanchot, obsessed with the Neuter, with
implacable indiffenence--as when you love someone who doesn't love you (I
borrow this comparison from a private message from R. Thomas). Isn't
discontinuity for D (as for Blanchot) a contact with an Outside. Doesn't
this indifference act on a part of me that is also indifferent to me (my
impersonal soul--a BwO?)? Or am I way off the mark here? There is an
inhuman indifference at work throughout D's writings and the "pure past"
(which is also dispersion--thanks) is the "image" of that indifference. ??
It acts the way "it rains". (Deleuze compares cinema to rain somewhere).
When I love someone who doesn't love me my love is dispersed--this is the
contact with an Outside--and the one I love sinks back into the void: every
encounter with her is a fragment of nothing, my very body a superfluous
mass of sensation. The presence of the one who does not love me is
precisely a non-presence, a past/future because he or she looks at me from
before/beyond my love for her as if I (her lover) was not there.
Am I on to anything here?
Still in the Void,
Tom
------------------