T h e D ia le c tic s o f Seeing

W alter Benjamin and the Arcades Project

Susan Buck-Morss

The M I T Press Cambridge, Massachusetts London, England

© 1989 Susan Buck-Morss

AH rights reserved. No part o f this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or
mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval)
w ithout permission in w riting from the publisher.

T his book was set in Baskerville

by Asco Trade Typesetting Ltd., Hong Kong,
and printed and bound by The H alliday Lithograph
in the U nited States of America.

L ib ra ry o f Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Buck-Morss, Susan.
The dialectics o f seeing: W alter Benjamin and the Arcades project/
Susan Buck-Morss.
p. cm.— (Studies in contemporary German social thought)
A n English reconstruction and analysis o f Benjamin’s Passagen
-Werk.
Bibliography: p.
Includes index.
ISB N 0-262-02268-0
I. Benjamin, Walter, 1892-1940. Passagen-Werk. 2. Benjamin,
W alter, 1892-1940— Philosophy. 3. Benjamin, Walter, 1892-1940
— Political and social views. I. Benjamin, Walter, 1892-1940.
Passagen-Werk. English. 1989. I I . T itle. I I I . Series.
PT2603.E455P334 1989
944'.36I081— dcl9 89-30870
C IP
For Eric Siggia
C ontents

Preface ix

Parti

Introduction 3

1 Temporal Origins 8

2 Spatial Origins 25

Part II

Introduction 47

3 Natural History: Fossil 58

4 M yth ic History: Fetish 78

5 M yth ic Nature: Wish Image 110

6 Historical Nature: Ruin 159

PartIII

Introduction 205

7 Is This Philosophy? 216

8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture 253

9 M aterialist Pedagogy 287

Contents

Afterword: Revolutionary Inheritance 331

Afterimages 341

Notes 376

Bibliography 478

Illustration Credits 485

Index 488
P reface

This is an unorthodox undertaking. I t is a picture book o f philoso­

phy, explicating the dialectics o f seeing developed by W alter Ben­
ja m in, who took seriously the debris o f mass culture as the source o f
philosophical truth. I t draws its authority from a book that was
never written, the Passagen-Werk (Arcades project), the unfinished,
major project of Benjamin’s mature years. Instead o f a “ work,” he
left us only a massive collection o f notes on nineteenth-century in ­
dustrial culture as it took form in Paris— and formed that city in
turn. These notes consist o f citations from a vast array o f historical
sources, which Benjamin filed w ith the barest m inim um of com­
mentary, and only the most general indications o f how the frag­
ments were eventually to have been arranged.
I have in the present study remained scrupulously close to the
fragments o f this never-written work. And yet it w ill be clear to
anyone fam iliar w ith the Passagen-Werk that I have not reproduced
it here but, rather, proceeded mimetically, extrapolating from it in
order to illum inate the world that Benjamin experienced and de­
scribed. I would be hard put to say whether this form o f scholarship
is a process o f discovering the Arcades project, or inventing it. The
reader is thus forewarned. W hat is given here is not an English-
language summary o f the original German and French manuscript.
I t is a different text, a story (of nineteenth-century Paris) told w ith ­
in a story (of Benjamin’s own historical experience) w ith the goal of
bringing to life the cognitive and political power o f the Passagen-
Werk that lies dormant w ithin the layers o f historical data o f which
it is composed.
Preface

B ut perhaps most o f all, this is the story o f the interpretive pro­

cess itself. The meaning o f Benjamin’s commentary in the Passagen-
Werk is cryptic. I t provides the reader with few answers as to Ben­
ja m in ’s intent but many clues, and these point ineluctably beyond
the text. Benjamin has simply not allowed us to w rite about his
work as an isolated literary product. Rather (and this is no small
part o f its political power), the Passagen-Werk makes o f us historical
detectives even against our w ill, forcing us to become actively in ­
volved in the reconstruction o f the work. I t is only by acceding to
the fact that his b rillia n t w riting, which we are so predisposed to
canonize, is really only a series o f captions to the world outside the
text, that we are able to make headway in penetrating the Passagen-
Werk. He compels us to search for images o f sociohistorical reality
that are the key to unlocking the meaning o f his commentary—ju st
as that commentary is the key to their significance. But in the
process, our attention has been redirected: Benjamin has surrepti­
tiously left the spotlight, which now shines brightly on the socio­
historical phenomena themselves. Moreover (and this is the mark
o f his pedagogical success), he allows us the experience o f feeling
that we are discovering the political meaning o f these phenomena
on our own.
Benjamin described his work as a “ Copernican revolution” in
the practice o f history w riting. His aim was to destroy the m ythic
immediacy o f the present, not by inserting it into a cultural con­
tinuum that affirms the present as its culmination, but by discover­
ing that constellation o f historical origins which has the power to
explode history’s “ continuum .” In the era o f industrial culture,
consciousness exists in a mythic, dream state, against which histor­
ical knowledge is the only antidote. But the particular kind o f his­
torical knowledge that is needed to free the present from myth is
not easily uncovered. Discarded and forgotten, it lies buried w ith in
surviving culture, remaining invisible precisely because it was o f so
little use to those in power.
Benjamin’s “ Copernican revolution” completely strips “ history”
o f its legitimating, ideological function. But i f history is abandoned
as a conceptual structure that deceptively transfigures the present,
its cultural contents are redeemed as the source o f critical knowl­
edge that alone can place the present into question. Benjamin makes
us aware that the transmission o f culture (high and low), which is
xi
Preface

central to this rescue operation, is a political act o f the highest im ­

port— not because culture in itself has the power to change the
given, but because historical memory affects decisively the collec­
tive, political w ill for change. Indeed, it is its only nourishment.
Now, w riting about the Passagen-Werk is exemplary o fju st the act
o f transm itting culture which Benjamin has problematized. This
locates the present project in a highly charged conceptual space,
one that w ill not tolerate too great a contradiction between form
and content. And yet, I have found a certain degree of tension un­
avoidable. In form, this study is scholarly, adhering quite rigorous­
ly to the mandates o f academic research, even as its content is a
protest against academia’s very understanding o f culture. But I can
see no politically justified reason for ceding to the latter a monopoly
o f philological rigor. Moreover, as the Passagen-Werk itself makes
clear, the option o f a short and popularly marketed summation of
the Passagen-Werk would have in no way avoided the dangers of
which Benjamin warned.
This book is long, and its argument is intricate. I t demands effort
on the part o f the reader. Yet I have tried to ensure that such effort
is not compounded by intellectual jargon that speaks only to those
already initiated into the world o f academic cults (among which the
Benjamin “ cult” now plays a leading role). The book requires no
specialized disciplinary knowledge. I t presupposes no particular
philosophical background. I t presumes only an openness to the
proposition that the common, everyday objects o f industrial culture
have as much o f value to teach us as that canon o f cultural “ trea­
sures” which we have for so long been taught to revere.
I am grateful to the Andrew D. W hite Society for the Humanities
o f Cornell University for a fellowship that allowed me to begin this
study o f the Passagen-Werk in 1982-83. The Deutsche Akademische Au-
stauschdienst generously provided support for research in Frankfurt
am M ain during the fall o f 1984. Jurgen Habermas and Leo
Lowenthal gave me encouragement when I needed it most. I have
benefited immensely from discussions w ith friends in the United
States, Germany, France, and the USSR: Hauke Brunkhorst,
Jacques Derrida, M iria m Hansen, Axel Honneth, Claude Im bert,
M a rtin Jay, D m itri Khanin, Grant Kester, Burkhardt Lindner,
M ichael Lowy, K irb y Malone, Pierre Missac, Valery Podoroga,
Gary Smith, R o lf Tiedemann, Heinz Wismann,_and Irvin g W ohl-
Preface

farth. Readings of the manuscript by Seyla Benhabib, Paul Breines,

and Carol Halberstadt were enormously helpful, as was the
research assistance o f Leslie Gazaway, Dean Robinson, Schuyler
Stevens, and Cynthia W itm ann. Graduate students in a seminar on
Benjamin in the spring o f 1985 were inspirational: W illia m
Andriette, Paul Ford, Daniel Purdy, Kasian Tejapira, Jennifer T if­
fany, Sharon Spitz, Michael Wilson, and Jiraporn Witayasakpan.
The photography and art work o f Michael Busch and Joan Sage
are major contributions to this study, as is the camera work o f
Helen Kelley. Consultants and photographers who helped w ith the
images include A rdai Baharmast, G rant Kester, K irb y Malone, Ro
Malone, Danielle M o rre tti, Norma Moruzzi, Donna Squier, Leah
Ulansey, and Rob Young. David Armstrong and A rline Blaker pro­
vided years o f help in preparing the manuscript.
I thank L arry Cohen at The M I T Press for believing in the
project. I appreciate his support.
A note on translations: Even when English translations o f Ben­
ja m in are available, I have made my own, not always because I
found the former to be lacking, but because in every case I have felt
it necessary to make that judgm ent, and to benefit from the associa­
tions o f meanings that come through more clearly in the original.
Sometimes, however, the English translations are so artful that, out
o f respect for the talents o f the translators, I have adhered strictly
to their wording, and credited them by name.
P a rt I
In tro d u c tio n

“ We have,” so says the illustrated guide to Paris from the year 1852,
[providing] a complete picture of the city of the Seine and its environs,
“ repeatedly thought of the arcades as interior boulevards, like those they
open onto. These passages, a new discovery of industrial luxury, are glass-
covered, marble-walled walkways through entire blocks of buildings, the
owners of which have joined together to engage in such a venture. Lining
both sides of these walkways which receive their light from above are the
most elegant of commodity shops, so that such an arcade is a city, a world
in miniature.” 1

Comments W alter Benjamin: “ This quotation is the locus classicus

for the representation o f the arcades \Passageri\,” 2 which lent their
name to his most daring intellectual project. The Passagen-Werk was
to be a “ materialist philosophy o f history,” constructed with “ the
utmost concreteness” 3 out o f the historical material itself, the
outdated remains o f those nineteenth-century buildings, technol­
ogies, and commodities that were the precursors of his own era.
As the “ ur-phenomena” o f modernity, they were to provide the
material necessary for an interpretation o f history’s most recent
configurations.
The Paris Passages b uilt in the early nineteenth century were the
origin o f the modern commercial arcade. Surely these earliest,
ur-shopping malls would seem a p itifu lly mundane site for philo­
sophical inspiration. But it was precisely Benjamin’s point to
bridge the gap between everyday experience and traditional
academic concerns, actually to achieve that phenomenological her­
meneutics o f the profane world which Heidegger only pretended.4
Benjamin’s goal was to take materialism so seriously that the his-
4

P a rti

0.1 Passage Choiseul, Paris.

to ric a l phenom ena them selves were b ro u g h t to speech. T h e p ro je c t

was to test “ h o w ‘ concrete' one can be in connection w ith the h is ­
to ry o f p h ilo s o p h y .” 5 C orsets, feather dusters, red and green-
colored com bs, o ld p h o to g ra p h s, so uve nir replicas o f the V e n u s d i
M ilo , c o lla r b u tto n s to sh irts lo n g since d isca rd e d — these b attered
h is to ric a l s u rvivo rs fro m the d aw n o f in d u s tria l c u ltu re th a t
appeared to g e th e r in the d y in g arcades as “ a w o rld o f secret
a ffin itie s ” 6 were the p h ilo s o p h ic a l ideas, as a co n s te lla tio n o f con­
crete, h is to ric a l referents. M o re o v e r, as “ p o litic a l d y n a m ite ,” 7 such
o u td a te d p ro d u cts o f mass c u ltu re w ere to p ro v id e a M a r x is t-
re v o lu tio n a ry , p o litic a l e du ca tio n fo r B e n ja m in 's ow n g e n e ra tio n o f
5
In tro d u c tio n

historical subjects, currently the victims o f mass culture’s more

recent soporific effects. “ [N ]ever,” wrote Benjamin to Gershom
Scholem in the early stages of the project, “ have I written with so
much risk o f failure.” 8 “ One w ill not be able to say of me that I
have made things easy for myself.” 9
The Arcades “ project” (as Benjamin most commonly referred to
the Passagen-Werk) ,10 was originally conceived as an essay o f fifty
pages.11 B ut the “ ever more puzzling, more intrusive face” o f the
project, “ howling like some small beastie in my nights whenever I
haven’t let it drink from the most remote sources during the day,” 12
did not let its author off so easily. In order to bring it to the light o f
day— and “ out o f an all-too ostensible proxim ity to the Surrealist
movement which could be fatal for me” 13— Benjamin kept extend­
ing its ground and deepening its base, both spatially and temporal­
ly. U ltim ately all o f Paris was drawn in, from the heights o f the
Eiffel Tower to its nether world o f catacombs and metros, and his
research spanned more than a century of the city’s most minute
historical details.
Benjamin began the Passagen-Werk in 1927. Although there were
interruptions, he worked on it intensively for thirteen years. The
project was still unfinished in 1940 when, unsuccessful in his
attempt to flee from France, he committed suicide. But from the
originally planned, fifty-page essay there had grown an ensemble of
material which, when published for the first time in 1982, num­
bered over a thousand pages. They consist o f fragments o f histori­
cal data gleaned p rim arily from the nineteenth- and twentieth-
century sources Benjamin found in B erlin’s Staatsbibliotek and
Paris’ Bibliotheque Nationale, and which he ordered chronologi­
cally in thirty-six files, or Konvoluts, each entitled w ith a key word or
phrase. These fragments, embedded in Benjamin’s commentary,
comprise more than 900 pages. They are thematically only loosely
arranged. To decipher their meaning we must rely on a series of
notes (1927-29; 1934-35) that provide invaluable, i f insufficient,
evidence as to the overall conception that guided Benjamin’s re­
search, as well as the two “ exposes” o f the Arcades project (1935
and 1939) that describe briefly the contents o f the intended
chapters.
The posthumous publication o f the Passagen-Werk, benefiting
from the scrupulous editing o f R o lf Tiedemann,14 is an astounding-
6
Parti

ly rich and provocative collection o f outlines, research notes, and

fragmentary commentary. I t demonstrates clearly that the Arcades
project was the most significant undertaking o f this very significant
intellectual figure. But the Passagen-Werk itself does not exist— not
even a first page, let alone a draft o f the whole. This nonexistent
text is the object o f the present study.
Intellectual biographies have commonly spoken o f Benjamin’s
thought in terms of three developmental, quasi-dialectical stages,
describing the first (to 1924, when his friendship w ith Gershom
Scholem was strongest) as metaphysical and theological, the
second (when in Berlin during late Weimar he came under the in ­
fluence of Bertolt Brecht) as M arxist and materialist, and the third
(when in exile in Paris he was affiliated w ith the Institut f i r Social-
forschung and intellectually close to Theodor Adorno) as an
attempt to sublate these two antithetical poles in an original syn­
thesis. I t was anticipated that the posthumous publication o f the
Passagen-Werk would be that synthesis, resolving the persistent
ambiguities between the theological and materialist strands in his
previously published works. The Passagen-Werk does indeed bring
together all the sides o f Benjamin’s intellectual personality w ithin
one conception, forcing us to rethink his entire opus, including his
early writings. I t demonstrates, moreover, that he was not ju st a
w riter o f b rillia n t but fragmentary aphorisms. The Arcades project
develops a highly original philosophical method, one which might
best be described as a dialectics o f seeing.
M uch o f the secondary literature on Benjamin has been pre­
occupied w ith determining the influences (of Scholem, Brecht, or
Adorno— or Bloch, Kracauer, even Heidegger) which were o f most
significance.15 This study purposely avoids the convention o f
academic hermeneutics that defines the theories o f one thinker in
terms o f the theories o f another, as such a method ensures that the
whole intellectual project becomes self-referential and idealist, her­
metically sealed w ith in precisely those musty corridors o f academia
from which Benjamin’s work attempts to escape. I t experiments
w ith an alternative hermeneutic strategy more appropriate to his
“ dialectics o f seeing,” one that relies, rather, on the interpretive
power o f images that make conceptual points concretely, w ith refer­
ence to the world outside the text.
7
Introduction

To the mind that would comprehend intellectual phenomena in

terms o f logical or chronological development wherein one thing
leads to another, to use Benjamin’s metaphor, “ like the beads o f a
rosary,” 16 his work offers little satisfaction. I t is grounded, rather,
on philosophical intuitions sparked by cognitive experiences
reaching as far back as childhood. These “ develop” only in the
sense that a photographic plate develops: time deepens definition
and contrast, but the im p rin t o f the image has been there from the
start. In spite of the metamorphoses that his w riting undergoes in
style and form o f expression, he held onto his philosophical in tu i­
tions tenaciously because, quite simply, he believed them to be
true.
Where, then, to begin?
1
T e m p o ra l O rig in s

Origin [Ursprung], although a thoroughly historical category, nonethe­

less has nothing to do with beginnings [. . .]. The term origin does not
mean the process of becoming of that which has emerged, but much more,
that which emerges out of the process of becoming and disappearing. The
origin stands in the flow of becoming as a whirlpool [ . . . ] ; its rhythm is
apparent only to a double insight.1

One can speak o f the origin o f the Passagen-Werk in the simple his­
torical sense o f the time and place it was conceived. But if “ origin”
is understood in Benjamin’s own philosophical sense, as “ that
which emerges out o f the process o f becoming and disappearing,”
then the moment is arguably the summer o f 1924, and the place is
not Paris, but Italy. Benjamin had gone there alone, leaving his
wife and six-year-old son in Berlin, in order to bring to paper his
Habilitationsschrift, Ursprung des deutschen Trauerspiels ( The Origin o f
German Tragic Drama), w ith which he hoped to secure an academic
position at the University o f Frankfurt.
He stayed in Capri among Berlin friends, including Ernst Bloch.
His marriage to Dora Poliak had for some time been in difficulty.2
A t thirty-tw o, he had not yet achieved economic independence
from his parents, in whose Berlin household his own shaky finances
still at times forced him to live. His father was an investor in in ­
novative urban projects (including a department store and an ice-
skating palace) w ith uneven success. Benjamin had a critical, in ­
deed cynical evaluation o f his parent’s bourgeois existence, leading
9
1 Temporal Origins

to “ bitter arguments” with his father that “ largely ruined” their

relationship.3 The chance for an academic position at Frankfurt
was, he wrote to Gershom Scholem, his “ last hope” for escaping
“ the increasingly gloomy atmosphere o f the financial situation,” 4
made critical by Germany’s astronomical inflation.5
As early as 1916, Benjamin had told Scholem that “ he saw his
future in a lectureship in philosophy,” and the conception o f his
study on German Trauerspiel dates from this year.6 Philosophical
questions even then preoccupied Benjamin. But the canon of
bourgeois philosophical texts in no way inspired his obedient re­
spect. He made, Scholem recalls, “ immoderate attacks on K a n t,”
whose theory o f experience he considered impoverished7; he was
“ repelled” by Hegel, whose “ mental physiognomy” he called “ that
o f an intellectual brute.” 8 Nor did more recent philosophical de­
bates capture his interest.9 Shortly after he arrived in Italy, Ben­
ja m in attended an international congress for philosophy in celebra­
tion o f the University o f Naples’ seventh centennial. I t reinforced,
he wrote to Scholem, his previous conviction (based not on M a rx­
ism, but on a more general criticism o f culture) “ that philosophers
are the most superfluous, hence worst paid lackeys of the interna­
tional bourgeoisie” :

Nowhere did there appear to be a real concern with scholarly communica­

tion. As a result, the entire enterprise very soon fell into the hands of
Cooks Tours, that provided the foreigners with countless “ reduced-rate
tours” in all directions through the countryside. On the second day I let
the conference go its way and went to Vesuvius [. . . ] and was yesterday
in the splendid National Museum of Pompeii.10

Benjamin’s choice in 1923 o f Frankfurt as the place for his Habilita-

tion was based less on hopes for intellectual collegiality11 than on
expediency. The Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Universitat was
new, liberal, and more open than most places for Jewish professors,
and he had connections there. But one senses that in pursuing this
possibility, Benjamin, more desperate than enthused, was going
through the motions.12 Granted, he enjoyed the isolated intensity o f
individual scholarship, and he had adopted many o f the social for­
malities and private-fam ilial living habits o f the bourgeoisie in spite
o f himself. Moreover, given his idiosyncratic w riting style and the
academic nature o f the topics he had thus far chosen to write
10
Parti

about,13 it was difficult to imagine him in anything but an academic

profession. A t issue was less the desirability than the possibility o f
traditional solutions. Benjamin believed that the bourgeois order
was already undermined, and he clearly suspected that his life path
was on quicksand. His mood is apparent in a short piece, later
entitled “ Im perial Panorama: A T o u r of German In fla tio n ,” which
was w ritten while traveling in Germany in 1923.14 I t questions the
v ia b ility o f personal solutions o f any kind, challenging attempts to
claim for oneself a “ special ju stification,” given the “ chaos” o f the
times, in which the phenomenon o f bourgeois decline had become
“ stability itse lf” 15:

The helpless fixation during the past decades on concepts of security and
possession prevents the average German from perceiving the highly re­
markable stabilities of an entirely new kind that underlie the present
structure. Since the relative stability of the period before the war benefited
him, he believed every condition that dispossessed him must, eo ipso, be
regarded as unstable. But stable relations do not need to be pleasant rela­
tions and earlier there were already millions for whom stabilized condi­
tions amounted to stabilized wretchedness.16

The realm o f private relations was not immune to the effects o f

inflation:

All more intimate personal relations are illuminated by the glare of an

almost inhuman, piercing clarity in which they are scarcely able to sur­
vive. Due to the fact that, on the one hand, money stands devastatingly in
the center of all vital interests, yet on the other, precisely this is the barrier
before which almost every human relationship breaks down, in both natu­
ral and ethical relations, the sphere of unreflectivc trust, calmness, and
health is increasingly disappearing.17

Benjamin gave this text to Gershom Scholem in the form o f a scroll,

on the occasion o f the la tte r’s emigration from Germany later that
year. Referring to the almost Nietzschean pessimism hanging over
the piece, Scholem recalled: “ I t was hard for me to understand
what could keep a man who had w ritten this in Germany,” 18 and
he urged Benjamin to consider jo in in g him in Palestine. Although
Benjamin, sharing Scholem’s interest in Judaic thought, was then
comfortable expressing philosophy in theological terms,19 and
although he would later consider the proposal seriously, precisely
in this year “ in which the catastrophic development o f inflation and
11
1 Temporal Origins

the general breakdown o f interpersonal relationships rendered the

prospect o f emigration acute for him ,” he “ displayed an attitude of
reserve toward Palestine [ . . . ] . ” 20
Behind this reserve was Benjamin’s awareness that his own
creativity depended for its nourishment on the Europe that was
disintegrating. W hat gave his philosophical intuitions a claim to
truth was that they were embedded in his own historical experi­
ence, and addressed specifically to the generation that had shared
them. T hat claim m ight indeed not survive a transplant to such
radically different soil, nourished by a Zionism o f which he was
suspicious not only because o f its nationalist particularism ,21 but
because he saw in its “ agricultural orientation” 22 an attempted
escape, an artificial return to a preindustrial world. Contemporary
historical reality was necessarily the philosopher’s material, even if
it now seemed to be leading him personally into a dead end.

These considerations determined Benjamin’s state o f mind in the

summer o f 1924, creating the specific constellation w ithin which,
without the author’s yet being aware o f it, the Passagen-Werk had its
origins. There was a muse who presided over the moment. Like
Ariadne, she promised to lead him out of the cul de sac that seemed
to lie before him. B ut i f her function befitted the antiquity of the
Mediterranean world where they met, her means were the most
modem: She was a Bolshevik from Latvia, active in postrevolution­
ary Soviet culture as an actress and director, and a member of the
Communist Party since the Duma Revolution. In Benjamin’s
words, she was “ ‘an outstanding Communist,” ’ and “ ‘one o f the
most outstanding women I have ever met.’ ” 23 Her name was Asja
Lacis. Beginning in June, Benjamin’s letters to Scholem from Capri
were fu ll o f “ cryptic allusions,” but Scholem was “ able to put two
and two together.” 24 Benjamin was in love w ith her.
Asja Lacis has recalled in her memoirs their first meeting. She
was in a shop to buy almonds and did not know the Italian word.
Benjamin helped her by translating. He then came up to her on
the piazza and asked i f he could carry her packages, introducing
himself w ith great bourgeois politeness. She recalled her first
impression:
12____
Parti

Eyeglasses that threw light like small spotlights, thick, dark hair, narrow
nose, clumsy hands—the packages fell out of his hands. In brief, a solid
intellectual, one from a well-to-do background. He accompanied me to the
house, took his leave and asked if he might visit me [. . . ].
He came back the very next day. I was in the kitchen (if this cubbyhole
can be called a kitchen) and cooked spaghetti [. . . ].
As we ate spaghetti, he said: “ I have been noticing you for two weeks,
how, in your white dresses, you and [your daughter] Daga who has such
long legs, didn’t walk across the piazza, but fluttered.” 25

Here is Benjamin’s account to Scholem:

Right here much has happened [. . . ] not the best for my work which it
threatens to interrupt, perhaps also not the best for that bourgeois life-
rhythm so indispensable for all work, but absolutely the best for a libera­
tion of vitality and an intensive insight into the actuality of a radical
Communism. I made the acquaintance of a Russian revolutionary from
Riga [ • • • ]-26
In retrospect, it m ight seem less surprising that Benjamin should
have now experienced “ an intensive insight into the actuality o f a
radical Communism” than the fact this had not happened sooner.
Yet it was actually quite far from the anarcho-socialist politics o f
his earlier years in the Jugendbewegung, which rebelled against
school and fam ily rather than the economic system, and which
called for social renewal as a generation rather than a class.27 Ben­
ja m in had taken little political interest in the Bolshevik Revolution
when it occurred,28 even i f he admired the conduct o f left-wing Ger­
man Communists during the war, particularly K a rl Liebknecht’s
refusal to vote for war credits in the Reichstag.29 He was bound to
find intellectually barren and uninteresting the neo-Kantian, posi­
tivistic reception of M arxism that characterized the Social Demo­
cratic Party. And yet despite this, his persistent criticism o f the
bourgeois world in which he had been raised and which he now saw
as in decline, touched close to the M arxist perception.30
Benjamin had always counted himself among the left-wing, in ­
deed, radical intellectuals o f his generation, but ever since his stu­
dent days before the war, he had been skeptical o f party politics, no
matter what ilk. He wrote in 1913: “ In the deepest sense, politics is
choosing the lesser evil. Never does the Idea appear, always the
Party.” 31 Benjamin’s resistance to active political participation had
been a point of dispute w ith Ernst Bloch for as long as they had
13
1 Temporal Origins

known each other, and Bloch, it w ill be remembered, was now w ith
Benjamin on Capri. Given Benjamin’s theological orientation in
these early years, one might have expected he would have been
sympathetic to Bloch’s own Messianic interpretation o f Marxism.
But while he felt a kinship to elements o f Bloch’s thought, he could
not accept the latter’s totalizing fusion o f empirical history and
theological transcendence, M arx and the Apocalypse, and he
read Bloch’s Geist der Utopie (Spirit o f Utopia) in 1919 w ith
“ impatience.” 32
The young Benjamin believed in the possibility o f metaphysical
knowledge o f the objective world— “ absolute” philosophical ex­
perience o f truth as revelation33— and held that (against the basic
tenet o f idealism) it would not end up showing him his own reflec­
tion. He insisted that there was ‘ “ something perceptibly objec­
tive’ ” in history.34 I f he rejected from the start the Hegelian
affirmation o f history itself as meaningful,35 he believed the mean­
ing which lay w ithin objects included their history most deci­
sively.36 Scholem reports that in 1916 Benjamin had on his desk
(
a Bavarian blue glazed tile, depicting a three-headed Christ; he told me
that its enigmatic design fascinated him [ . . . ] . In the twenties he was apt
to offer philosophical reflections as he brought forth a toy for his son
[ . . . ] . In his room in Paris hung a tattoo artist’s large pattern sheet
[ . . . of which he was] particularly proud.37

This quasi-magical cognitive attitude toward historical matter

remained basic to Benjamin’s understanding o f materialism.
Scholem recorded his “ extreme form ulation” : “ ‘A philosophy that
does not include the possibility o f soothsaying from coffee grounds
and cannot explicate it cannot be a true philosophy.’ ” 38 As Bloch
has commented, Benjamin proceeded “ as i f the world were
language.” 39 The objects were “ mute.” But their expressive (for
Benjamin, “ linguistic” ) potential became legible to the attentive
philosopher who “ named” them, translating this potential into the
human language o f words, and thereby bringing them to speech.40
M arxism had no comparable theory o f the language o f objects. But
what made Communism potentially more suited than theology for
the task as Benjamin already understood it was that rather than
turning its back on the realities o f the present, Communism made
precisely these its home, affirming the potential o f present indus-
14
Parti

trialism while criticizing its capitalist form, and thus grounding

utopian thinking in actual historical conditions. Moreover, its uni-
versalism cut across the religious sectarianism o f theology which,
for all his appreciation o f Judaism, Benjamin had never accepted.
In 1923 the redemptive moment in the otherwise profoundly
gloomy piece, “ Im perial Panorama: A T o u r through German In ­
flation” was expressed theologically. Benjamin wrote that the suf­
ferer o f poverty and deprivation must “ so discipline him self that his
suffering becomes no longer the dow nhill road o f hate, but the ris­
ing path o f prayer.” 41 This was the version Scholem received on the
occasion o f his emigration. When the piece was published in 1928,
there had been a significant substitution: Now suffering is to be­
come “ no longer the dow nhill road of g rie f” but “ the rising path o f
revolt” 42— “ m inor revisions,” states Scholem.43 He is not totally
wrong. Indeed, it is remarkable how little the structure o f Ben­
ja m in ’s thought was altered in accommodating his “ political
radicalization.” 44 But while Scholem means to demonstrate by this
example the depth o f Benjamin’s commitment to (Judaic) theology,
in fact it demonstrates how secondary for him was the theological
formulation, compared to the philosophico-historical experience
itself.45 And, o f course, the political implications o f these “ m inor
revisions” were profound.
Asja L aris’ work first raised for Benjamin the question: “ W hat is
the intelligentsia like in a country in which its employer is the pro­
letariat? [. . . ] W hat do intellectuals have to expect from a proleta­
rian government?” 46 1924 was the year o f Lenin’s death, when
Soviet cultural life was still open to innovations. Lacis was part o f
the Communist Party’s intellectual avant-garde, radical in aesthet­
ic form as well as social content. In the year before their meeting
she had worked w ith Brecht’s Expressionist theater in M unich, and
she would later become assistant to the “ Agit-prop” director E rw in
Piscator. Lacis saw her work as an integral part o f the revolution­
ary transformation o f society. As innovator o f a proletarian chil­
dren’s theater, she designed a revolutionary pedagogy for children
that was the antithesis o f authoritarian indoctrination: Through
their improvisational play on stage, children were to “ teach and
educate the attentive educators.” 47 Such practices threw a critical
light onto the musty halls o f academia which Benjamin had been
trying to convince him self to enter.
15
1 Temporal Origins

W ork on the Habilitationssckrift was going slowly. In Capri he

discussed it w ith Lacis, who recalled:

He was deep in work on The Origin of German Tragic Drama. When I

learned from him that it had to do with an analysis of German Baroque
tragedy of the seventeenth century, and that only a few specialists know
this literature— these tragedies were never played— I made a face. Why
busy oneself with dead literature? He was silent for a time, and then said:
First I am bringing into the discipline of aesthetics a new terminology. In
contemporary discussions of drama, the term tragedy and tragic drama
are used indiscriminately, just as words. I show the fundamental differ­
ence between [them . . . ]. The dramas of the Baroque express despair and
contempt for the world— they are really sad plays.
[•••]
Second, he said, his inquiry was not merely an academic piece of re­
search; it had a direct connection to very actual problems of contemporary
literature. He expressly emphasized that in his work he described Baroque
plays in search of linguistic form as a phenomenon analogous to Expres­
sionism. For that reason, so he said, I have handled the artistic prob­
lematic of allegory, emblem and ritual in such detail. Up to now the
aestheticians have evaluated allegory as an art medium of second
class. He wanted to prove that allegory was artistically a highly valued
means, and more, it was a particular artistic form of understanding truth
(Wahmehmen).48

Despite Benjamin’s defense (which, recounted by Lacis after the

passing o f h a lf a century, is still one o f the clearest summaries o f the
intent o f his Trauerspiel study), her criticism h it its mark. Benjamin
was having great difficulty w riting the theoretical introduction to
the piece, not only because o f the distractions o f being in love, but
also because the “ thematic restrictions” o f the study were making it
“ awkward” for him to express his own thoughts.49 Although he did
complete a draft o f the work by that fall, and was indeed quite
pleased w ith the results50 (which bear no trace o f his new com m it­
ment to Communism), he began simultaneously to formulate a new
w ritin g project. I t represented his response to what he called the
“ Communist signals” o f that summer, which marked

[. . . ] a turning point, awakening in me the will not, as before, to mask in

an outmoded form the contemporary (aktuell) and political moments in
my thinking, but to develop them, and to do this experimentally, in ex­
treme form. Naturally this implies that what recedes is the literary exege­
sis of German literature [. . . ].51
16
Parti

tDcltcc Benjamin

tlcfpcung
4>es beutfdjen Ztrauecfpiels

J 92 S

ifr n ft Xott?of)lt D rdag * B ftlin

1.1 The Origin o f German Tragic Drama. 1.2 One Way Street, jacket design by Jascha Stone.

The new project, a “ booklet for friends” o f “ my aphorisms, jokes,

dreams,” 52 was w ritten in short sections, many o f which were
published separately as fragments in daily newspapers. They
appeared together in 1928 as Einbahnstrasse (One Way Street), and
included as possibly its earliest component the revised, politicized
version o f the 1923 fragment “ Im perial Panorama: A T o ur o f Ger­
man In fla tio n .”
W ork on this book o f aphorisms not only overlapped the w riting
o f his Habilitationsschrift, but undercut it. One Way Street describes
the irretrievable passing o f that world in which, w ith The Origin o f
German Tragic Drama, Benjamin was trying to make his mark. The
methodological introduction of the Trauerspiel study, unabashedly
abstract and esoteric, defines the form o f the work as a “ philo­
sophical treatise.” 53 The philosophical theory o f “ ideas” that it
contains draws on the entire canon o f traditional, academic phi­
losophy, from Plato and Leibniz to Hermann Cohen and M ax
Scheler, and at the same time affirms “ the topics o f theology [ . . . ]
w ithout which truth cannot be thought.” 54 Nothing could contrast
17
1 Temporal Origins

more strongly than the opening section o f One Way Street, which
rejects the “ pretentious, universal gesture o f the book,” denouncing
as sterile any “ literary activity [. . . that] takes place w ith in a lite r­
ary frame,” 55 and praises instead “ leaflets, brochures, newspaper
articles and placards” because only the “ ready language” of these
forms “ shows itself capable o f immediate effectiveness.” 56 The
opening section is named “ Gas Station.” I t begins: “ The construc­
tion o f life at the moment lies far more in the power o f facts than in
convictions.” 57 And it ends by stating that such convictions “ are
for the gigantic apparatus o f social life what oil is for machines: you
do not go up to a turbine and pour machine oil all over it. You
spurt a b it o f it in the hidden rivets and joints that you must
know.” 58 Between the Trauerspiel study and One Way Street, the
author’s understanding o f his trade had changed from esoteric trea­
tise w riter to mechanical engineer.

In the Trauerspiel study, the abstractness o f representation has the

effect of sealing the reader w ithin the text, that creates its own w in­
dowless world. As in the stuffy, upholstered bourgeois interiors o f
the nineteenth century, one is threatened w ith claustrophobia.59 In
contrast, the atmosphere o f One Way Street has all the light, air, and
permeability o f the new architecture o f Gropius or Corbusier. The
outside world o f gas stations, metros, traffic noises, and neon lights,
which threatens to disrupt intellectual concentration, is incorporated
into the text. These material substances rub against thought w ith a
friction that generates cognitive sparks, illum inating the reader’s
own life -w o rld. Gloomy descriptions o f the decaying bourgeois
order are juxtaposed w ith the most varied aphoristic observations:
“ In summer those who are fat attract attention, in winter, those
who are th in .” 60 “ The Automobile Disease: [. . .] Its etiology: the
secret wish to discover out o f the general decline the quickest way
to do oneself in .” 61 “ Genuine polemics takes a book in hand as
lovingly as a cannibal prepares a baby.” 62 “ One complains about
beggars in the South and forgets that their tenaciousness in front o f
one’s nose is as justified as the obstinacy o f the scholar before a
difficult text.” 63 A ll o f these are assembled without regard for dis-
18
Parti

parities o f size and discontinuities in kind, like so many discrete

pieces in a photomontage or a Cubist collage. In short, One Way
Street represents an avant-garde, modernist aesthetics.64
But if the style o f these two works is antithetical, the content o f
the old-fashioned work maintains a striking affinity to the new one.
The Trauerspiel study attempts to “ redeem” allegory theoretically.
One Way Street does this practically, and transforms the meaning of
redemption in the process. Not the allegorical object (tragic dra­
ma), but the allegorical practice is redeemed. In Baroque dramas,
natural images— a dog, a stone, an old woman, a cypress tree— are
emblematic representations o f ideas.65 In Benjamin’s modernist
fragments, images o f the city and o f commodities function sim ilar­
ly: a “ fillin g station” (as we have seen) depicts the practical role of
the intellectual. “ Gloves” become the emblem for modern human­
ity ’s relation to its own anim ality.66 Some titles hang like shop signs
over their fragmentary contents (“ O ptician,” “ Stamp Shop,”
“ Watches and Jewelry,” “ D ry Goods” ); others are city commands
for attention (“ Caution, Steps!” “ Begging and Loitering Forbid­
den!” “ Post no B ills!” “ Closed for Repairs!” ), public warnings
posted over what m ight otherwise be mistaken as private practices
(writing, dreaming), while “ Fire A la rm ” is the warning sign over a
discussion of revolutionary practice. One Way Street in no way
mimics the stylized rhetoric and bombastic gestures o f Baroque
drama. I t is not the desire to rehabilitate an arcane dramatic genre
that motivates Benjamin,67 but the desire to make allegory actual.
The allegorical mode allows Benjamin to make visibly palpable the
experience o f a world in fragments, in which the passing o f time
means not progress but disintegration.
Parts o f One Way Street are as sad and melancholy a commentary
on the social state o f things as any tragic drama, w ith cities in
ruins,68 social rituals empty,69 the objects m orbidly cold.70 But
there are others that recount moments o f happiness— as a child,
particularly, and as a lover— when, as fleeting instances o f fu lfill­
ment, symbolic expression is demanded. I f petrified nature and .de­
caying objects provide the imagery adequate to allegory, the imag­
ery o f the symbol that would show'fleeting matter in a redeeming
light is (as the Trauerspiel study argued71) organic nature, active
and live, and for that reason unalterably passing. On being in love:
\9_____________
1 Temporal Origins

1.3 Asja Lads (left). 1.4 Dora Benjamin (right).

Our feelings, dazzled, flutter like a flock of birds in the woman’s radiance.
And as birds seek protection in the leafy recesses of a tree, so our feelings
take flight into the shaded wrinkles, the awkward gestures and invisible
blemishes of the body we love, where they can lie low in safety.72

R e c a llin g his ow n c h ild h o o d experience o f reading:

For a week you were wholly given up to the soft drift of the text that
surrounded you as secretly, densely, and unceasingly as snowflakes. You
entered it with limitless trust. The peacefulness of the book, that enticed
you further and further! [. . . To the child] the hero’s adventures can still
be read in the swirl of letters like figures and messages in the drifting
snowflakes. His breath is part of the air of the events narrated, and all the
participants breathe with his life. He mingles with the characters far more
closely than grown-ups do. He is unspeakably touched by the deeds, the
words that are exchanged, and, when he gets up, is blanched over and
over by the snow of his reading.73

C ounterposed to the sym b o lic experience o f reading, B e n ja m in de­

scribes the experience o f w r itin g in the m ode o f the a lle g o rica l:
“ T h e fin ish e d w o rk is the dea thm a sk o f its c o n ce p tio n .” 74 Ben­
ja m in ’ s p o in t is th a t, w h e th e r it is expressed a lle g o ric a lly (as eter­
nal passing) o r s y m b o lic a lly (as fle e tin g e te rn ity ) te m p o ra lity en­
ters in to every experience, n o t ju s t a b s tra c tly as H eid eg ge r w o u ld
20
Parti

have it, as the “ historicity” of Being, but concretely. T h at which is

eternally true can thus only be captured in the transitory, material
images o f history itself. “ [. . .T ]ru th refuses (like a child or a
woman who does not love us), facing the lens o f w riting while we
crouch under the black cloth, to keep still and look amiable.” 75
Both One Way Street and The Origin o f German Tragic Drama were
published by Rowohlt in Berlin in January 1928. The dedication to
One Way Street, like the title, expresses the irreversibility o f history
and the decisiveness o f new events: “ This street is named Asja
Lacis Street after her who, like an engineer, cut it through the
author.” 76 But the dedication to The Origin o f German Tragic Drama
looks backwards and remembers:

Conceived in 1916. Written 1925.

Then, as now, dedicated to my wife.77

One year before these books were published, Benjamin formulated

the earliest plans and notes for the Passagen-Werk. Observing that it
contained the same “ profane motifs” as One Way Street but in “ fien­
dish intensification,” he asserted that this project would close the
“ cycle o f production” that had begun w ith One Way Street, ju st
as the Trauerspiel study had completed the cycle on German
literature.78 Yet in the sense that we have ju st demonstrated, w ith
the closing o f the first “ cycle,” nothing essential to the theory o f the
Trauerspiel study had been left behind.79 I t has prompted us to look
for the origins o f the Arcades project at the historical moment when
the two “ cycles” overlapped, and to examine in some detail the two
works that allegedly divide them. A pplying Benjamin’s definition
o f origins not to the literary genre o f the tragic drama but to his
own literary production, the Passagen-Werk emerged in the eddy be­
tween two antithetical movements, the disappearing, “ outmoded
form ” o f the Trauerspiel study and the bourgeois intellectual world
which it represented on the one hand, and Benjamin’s new avant-
garde literary attitude and political commitment to M arxism that
determined the “ process o f becoming” on the other. This was, as
Scholem writes, “ exactly in keeping w ith his true convictions,
which at no time permitted him to write finis to an old way o f
thinking and to start a new one from a fresh Archimedean point.” 80
21
1 Temporal Origins

W hile surely in keeping w ith his character, Benjamin’s position

was philosophically ambiguous. The irreversibility of time and the
consequence o f inexorable decay that determines One Way Street—
indeed, the concept o f the tem porality o f truth generally— would
seem to be in conflict w ith the Trauerspiel study’s metaphysical
understanding o f philosophy as the representation o f eternal ideas, as
i f “ constellations” o f truth were impervious to precisely that tran­
sitoriness which was supposed to be tru th ’s most fundamental
quality. Put another way: I f the historical transiency of the physical
world is its truth, how is m*ta-physical speculation about it possi­
ble? Benjamin’s answer was at this time a visual image: “ Methodo­
logical relationship between the metaphysical investigation and the
historical one: a stocking turned inside out.” 81 The issue is not
thereby resolved, and it is a question to which we w ill need to
return.82
Surely the influence o f Asja Lacis on Benjamin was as decisive as
it was irreversible. She recalled that it included a definitive rejec­
tion o f im m igration to Palestine.

Once [on Capri] he brought with him a text book of the Hebrew language
and said he was learning Hebrew. His friend Scholem had promised a
secure existence for him there. I was speechless, and then came a sharp
exchange: The path of thinking, progressive persons in their right senses
leads to Moscow, not to Palestine. That Walter Benjamin did not go to
Palestine, I can say rightly was my doing.83

A t the very least, Lacis was telescoping the course o f events, as

Benjamin was never closer to im m igrating to Palestine than four
years after this “ sharp exchange” (and one year after his trip to
Moscow).84 U ltim ately, it would be the Passagen-Werk, not “ the
path to Moscow,” that kept him in Europe. But the “ liberation o f
v ita lity ” that he experienced as a philosopher, a writer, and a hu­
man being clearly was her doing,85 and for anyone who has known
the creative intensity o f the erotic and the political as ? double
awakening, wherein work and passion are not separate corners of
life but fused intensely into one, the decisive significance o f their
relationship w ill come as no surprise.
Yet Benjamin did not make any hasty changes in his life course.
He returned to Berlin, to his wife Dora and their son.86 And he
persisted in his attempt to secure a teaching post in Frankfurt. By
A p ril 1925, Benjamin had finished revising the Trauerspiel study. He
22
Parti

knew that it challenged not a few o f the shibboleths o f academic

tradition, and that its theoretical originality was risky. The in tro ­
duction, he admitted, was “ an extravagant hutzpa— namely, no
more nor less than the prolegomena to a theory o f knowledge” 87—
but his attempt was apparently totally in earnest, even i f in judging
optim istically the chances o f success, he was, as Lacis later said,
“ naive.” 88 He submitted the work in May. His committee could
not find it in themselves to accept it, not because it was daring, but
because, as one member said, he was “ ‘unable, despite repeated
efforts, to get any understandable meaning out o f it.’ ” 89 Benjamin
was advised to w ithdraw his petition for the Habilitation, rather
than suffer the embarrassment o f rejection. He did this, reluctantly,
in September. The following spring he composed a new “ preface”
addressed to the University at Frankfurt (but sent to Scholem). He
counted this among his “ most successful pieces.” 90 I t consisted o f
these lines:

I should like to tell, for a second time, the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty.
She slept in her thorn bush. And then, after so and so many years, she
awoke.
But not by the kiss of a fortunate prince.
The cook woke her up, as he gave the young cook a box in the ears that
resounded through the castle, ringing from the pent-up energy of so many
years.
A beautiful child sleeps behind the thorny hedge of the following pages.
Just don’t let any prince of fortune decked out in the dazzling equip­
ment of knowledge come near it. For in the bridal kiss, it will snap at him.
Much better that the author should awaken it, reserving for himself the
role of head cook. For too long the box in the ears has been due, that with
its shrill ring would pierce through the halls of knowledge.
Then, too, would this poor truth awaken, that has pricked itself on the
outmoded spindle as, forbiddenly, it thought to weave itself into the rat­
tletrap chambers of a professor’s gown.91

Academia was “ outmoded.” The long-slumbering tru th o f

metaphysics that Benjamin as author felt himself competent to
“ awaken” would have to appear otherwise than in the forbidden
academic gown. Was it so preposterous to search in a shopping
mall for more appropriate attire? Ernst Bloch remembered showing
23__________________
1 Temporal Origins

Benjamin his commentary on One Way Street: “ Here was— so I

wrote— a store-opening o f philosophy [. . . ] w ith the newest spring
models o f metaphysics in the show-window,” and Benjamin was
visibly pleased,92 perhaps because fashion expresses emblematical­
ly the essence o f a metaphysics o f transiency. As Benjamin wrote in
the Passagen-Werk: “ the eternal is in every case far more the ruffle on
a dress than an idea.” 93 But, to “ turn the stocking inside out” and
see the problem from the sociohistorical position, leaving the world
o f academia meant that Benjamin would subject his intellectual
production to the conditions o f the marketplace, where fashion
showed its other true face, as a reified, fetishized commodity and as
class ideology. As a freelance writer, he had access to the mass
media o f radio and newspapers. Was it possible, despite capitalist
form, to subvert these cultural apparatuses from within? The effect
o f technology on both work and leisure in the modern metropolis
had been to shatter experience into fragments, and journalistic
style reflected that fragmentation. Could montage as the formal
principle o f the new technology be used to reconstruct an experien­
tial world so that it provided a coherence o f vision necessary for
philosophical reflection? And more, could the metropolis of con­
sumption, the high ground o f bourgeois-capitalist culture, be trans­
formed from a world o f mystifying enchantment into one o f both
metaphysical and political illum ination? To answer these questions
was the point o f the Arcades project. Benjamin had, indeed, not
made things easy on himself.
In the late 1920s, during the years Benjamin was formulating the
themes o f the Passagen-Werk, he lived erratically, traveling exten­
sively in Europe. He returned to Naples (via Spain) in September
1925. T h at November he visited Asja Lacis in Riga, where she
was (illegally) directing Communist theater. In early 1926 he was
back in Berlin; in the spring he moved to Paris, where he saw
Ernst Bloch almost every evening, during “ a h alf year o f true
symbiosis.” 94 The autumn found him once again in Berlin; at the
year’s end he traveled to Moscow to see Lacis. The next spring and
summer (A p ril-O c to b e r 1927) he returned to Paris. There he again
saw Scholem (who was ju s t beginning research into Sabbatianism
as a Kabbalist movement), and found his “ sometimes somewhat
ostentatious self-assurance” hard to take95; yet he did not discour­
age Scholem’s efforts to secure for him a permanent academic posi-
24
Parti

tion in Jerusalem. The earliest notes for an “ essay” on the Paris

Arcades date from this summer. In November, Benjamin was back
in Berlin. In the spring o f 1928, he seriously considered going to
Jerusalem. He separated from his wife Dora in the summer; their
slow and painful divorce dragged on for a year. For two months
that winter he lived w ith Asja Lacis, who had come to Berlin in
November to work in the film department o f the Soviet Trade M is­
sion. I t was through her that he became part o f B erlin’s leftist thea­
ter circle, and met and befriended Bertolt Brecht. In the autumn o f
1929, he traveled w ith Lacis to Frankfurt. They spent several days
in the nearby Taunus mountains at Konigstein, in “ unforgettable,”
conversations w ith M ax Horkheimer, Theodor Adorno, and Gretel
Karplus that marked a “ historic” turning point in Benjamin’s own
philosophical approach, the “ end of an epoch of careless, archaic,
nature-biased philosophizing.” 96 I t was to this small group that
Benjamin read his early notes to the Passagen-Werk, and the group
enthusiastically heralded it as a model o f what the new epoch o f
philosophizing would become.
In 1930 Benjamin spoke o f beginning a “ new life.” 97 The histor­
ical moment could not have been less auspicious. The crisis in
world capitalism brought severe unemployment to Germany, threat­
ening his own economic position. The political crisis that brought
the Nazis to power destroyed it decisively. In M arch 1933, urged
by Gretel Karplus, he left Germany permanently. He moved to
Paris, and took up the Arcades project again, this time w ith exten­
sive historical research in the Bibliotheque Nationale. Except for
extended visits w ith Brecht in Svendborg, Denmark (and w ith his
son and former wife in San Remo), Benjamin stayed in Paris, con­
vinced that the Arcades project could only be completed there.
But when the city fell to H itle r in 1940, he had no choice but to
leave. Aided in securing an American visa by the exiled Frankfurt
Institutf i r SozialforschuTig, he made plans to jo in Adorno, Horkheim ­
er, and the other Institute members in New York, and named a text
on which he was working “ Central Park,” in anticipation o f asylum
there. But when he encountered problems crossing the border into
Spain, Benjamin took his own life w ith an overdose o f morphine.
His research notes, two exposes o f the Arcades project, and several
series o f conceptual notes (including those read at Konigstein),
were left behind in Paris, and survived. I t is these which, first pub­
lished in 1982, constitute the Passagen-Werk.
2_________________
Spatial Origins

O ne o n ly knows a spot once one has experienced it in as m any dim ensions

as possible. Y ou have to have approached a place from a ll fo u r ca rd in a l
points i f you w ant to take it in, and w h a t’s more, you also have to have left
it from a ll these points. O therw ise it w ill q u ite unexpectedly cross y o u r
path three or fo u r times before you are prepared to discover i t . 1

U n d e rly in g B enjam in’s transient existence d u ring the late 1920s

and 1930s is a structure that locates the Passagen-Werk geographi­
cally, and lends it a spatial order. R ather than consisting o f a sim ­
ple “ path to M oscow ,” this order incorporates all four points on the
compass (display A ). T o the W est is Paris, the origin o f bourgeois
society in the p o litica l-re vo lu tio n a ry sense; to the East, Moscow in
the same sense marks its end. T o the South, Naples locates the
M editerranean origins, the m yth-enshrouded childhood o f Western
civiliza tio n ; to the N o rth , B erlin locates the m yth-enshrouded
childhood o f the author himself.
T he Arcades project is conceptually situated at the n u ll p o in t o f

Display A

Berlin

Paris Moscow

Naples
26
P a rti

these tw o axes, the one in d ic a tin g the advance o f em pirical history

in terms o f social and technological potential, the other defining
history retrospectively as the ruins o f an un fu lfilled past. N ot only
schem atically, but experientially, these four cities were decisive for
the Passagen-Werk’s conception.

N aples

The Passagen-Werk w ould examine nineteenth-century neoclassi­

cism as an ideological attem pt to represent the unbroken pedigree o f
bourgeois c iviliza tio n and the eternal ve rity o f W estern im p e ria l
dom ination. T he h istorical disintegration visible in Ita ly ’s classical
ruins challenged such m yth ica l tem poral claims, speaking instead
o f the transiency o f empires. In 1924, Benjam in and Lacis toured
these ru in s.2 B u t when they sat down to w rite an article together, it
concerned a present-day process o f decay. The article is a descrip­
tion o f contem porary Naples, in w hich the central image o f “ poros­
ity ” (suggested by Lacis) captures the fact that the stru ctu rin g
boundaries o f m odern capitalism — between pu b lic and private,
labor and leisure, personal and com m unal— have not yet been
established: “ Just as the liv in g room reappears on the street [. . .]
so the street migrates in to the liv in g room ” 3; “ For sleeping and
eating there is no prescribed hour, sometimes no place.” 4 W h a t
M a rx is t theory conceptualizes as a transitional society appears
here in images o f spatial anarchy, social in te rm ingling, and, above
all, impermanence: “ B u ild in g and a c tiv ity interpenetrate [ . . . ] .
D e fin itio n , im p rin t is avoided. N o situation appears intended to
last forever; no form claims to be ‘so, and not otherwise.’ ” 5
In the south o f Ita ly , on the hollow and cru m bling shell o f the
precapitalist order, m odern social relations have been shakily,
unevenly erected. A v o id in g theoretical generalization, B enjam in
presents this tru th in the visual gesture o f an anecdote:

In a b u stlin g piazza a fa t lady drops her fan. She looks abo u t helplessly,
too unshapely to p ick i t up herself. A cavalier appears and is prepared to
perform this service fo r fifty lire . T h e y negotiate and the la d y receives her
fan fo r ten.6

“ Naples” speaks o f the ro u tin iz a tio n o f swindle and the profes­

sionalization o f begging, expressions o f the specifically capitalist
27________________
2 Spatial O rigins

form o f Naples’ underdevelopm ent, where “ poverty and misery

appear as contagious as they are pictured to be to children.” 7 Ben­
ja m in and Lacis record the disorganization o f the w orking class:
“ W ith the pawn shop and lotto, the state holds this p roletariat in a
vice: w h a t it advances to them in one hand it takes back again w ith
the oth e r.” 8 For this class, self-consciousness is less p o litica l than
theatrical:

Even the m ost w retched person is sovereign in the double consciousness o f

p la yin g a p a rt in every c o rru p tio n , every neve r-to -re tu rn image o f Neapo­
lita n street life, enjoying the leisure o f th e ir poverty, and fo llo w in g the
grand panoram a.9

T ra d itio n a l life goes on, except now, as a to u rist show, everything is

done for money. Tours and replicas o f the ruins o f Pompeii are for
sale10; natives perform the legendary eating o f macaroni w ith th e ir
hands fo r tourists fo r a p rice .11 A rtis ts create their w ork in pastels
on the street on w hich a few coins are tossed before feet erase it . 12
Cows are kept in five-story tenem ents.13 P o litical events are turned
in to festivals.14 One sees neither an ancient society nor a modern
one, b u t an im provisatory culture released, and even nourished, by
the c ity ’s ra p id decay.
T he essay “ Naples” appeared in the F rankfurter Zeitung in 1926.
I t is to be compared w ith those articles th a t s till comprise the
“ trave l” section o f Sunday newspapers. There is no lack o f hum or
or entertainm ent. There is no e xp licit p o litic a l message. Rather,
h a rd ly noticeable to the reader, an experim ent is underway, how
images, gathered by a person w a lkin g the streets o f a city, can be
interpreted against the grain o f idealist lite ra ry style. The images
are not subjective impressions, b u t objective expressions. The
phenomena— buildings, hum an gestures, spatial arrangements—
are “ read” as a language in w h ich a h isto rically transient tru th
(and the tru th o f historical transiency) is expressed concretely, and
the c ity ’s social form ation becomes legible w ith in perceived experi­
ence. T h is experim ent would have central m ethodological im p o rt
for the Passagen-Werk.

M oscow

A t the tu rn o f the year 1926-27, B enjam in traveled to Moscow.

Shut out from conversation by his ignorance o f the Russian lan-
28____
P a rti

guage, he attem pted to “ see” the presence o f the R evolution by the

same kin d o f image analysis, the same sensory experience o f tem ­
po ra lity, that he and Lacis had employed in the essay on Naples.
He explained his in te n t to M a rtin Buber, w ho had commissioned
him to w rite an essay on “ M oscow ” for his jo u rn a l D ie Kreatur.

[. . .A ] 11 theory w ill be kept fa r fro m m y presentation [. . .]. I w a n t to

present the city o f M oscow at the present m om ent in such a w ay th a t
“ everything factual is already th e o ry” [the cita tio n is fro m G oethe], there­
by re fra in in g from a ll deductive a bstraction, a ll prognosis, and even, w ith ­
in lim its , a ll ju d g m e n t [. . . ] . 15

In the essay, the “ concrete life-appearances” in M oscow th a t

struck Benjam in most deeply are made to reveal “ w ith o u t theo­
retical excursus” their “ internal position” in a political sense.16 Like
Naples, Moscow appears in transition, w ith elements o f the village
s till playing “ hide-and-seek” 17 w ith the city. B u t the tra n sitio n is to
socialism, so th a t the q u a lity o f transitoriness th at in Naples lent to
life the sense o f theater, here places “ each life, each day, each
thought [. . .] on a labora to ry table.” 18 Whereas in Naples, tra n ­
siency expressed the in s ta b ility and precariousness o f social o u t­
comes left to fate, in M oscow the changing locations o f offices and
streetcar stops, and the incessant fu rn itu re rearrangements are self-
conscious, underscoring society’s “ astonishing” experim entation,
and an “ uncond itional readiness for m o b iliza tio n .” 19
Nonetheless, M oscow ’s images are am bivalent. Begging exists
only as a “ corporation o f the d y in g ,” having lost its “ strongest
base, society’s bad conscience” 20; but, sim ultaneously, the New
Econom ic Policy (N E P ) is creating a new monied class. I f the
Neapolitans sell th e ir past to strangers, in Russia the proletarians
themselves visit the museums, and feel at ease there.21 M oscow ’s
villagelike squares have not, as in Europe, been “ profaned and des­
troyed” by m onum ents.22 A n d yet icons o f L enin are sold as to u rist
replicas o f the R evolution w hich, like religion before it, is in danger
o f becoming reified and dom in a tin g the people who created it . 23
T he am bivalence o f these images is evidence th at it makes a differ­
ence w hich class rules— and th a t the future is not thereby
guaranteed.24
Rem arkable is B e n ja m in ’s sense o f where the c ritica l m om ent for
the success o f the R evolution lies. I t is not in the realm o f the p ro ­
duction quotas, b u t in the ju n c tu re between p o litica l power and
29_________________
2 Spatial O rigins

consumer power. Whereas under capitalism , “ the m arket value o f

all power can be calculated” in terms o f money, in Russia, by hold­
ing the N E P men apart from the Party, the Soviet state has
“ severed” the “ c o n v e rtib ility o f money in to pow er.” 25 T his “ one
indispensable co n d itio n ” w ill determ ine the R evolution’s success:

[. . . ] th a t never (as one day happened even to the C h u rch ) should a black
m arket o f pow er be opened. S hould the European co rrelation o f pow er
and money penetrate Russia, too, then perhaps not the co u n try, perhaps
not even the P arty, b u t C om m unism in Russia w o u ld be lost. People here
have not yet developed European consum er concepts and consum er
needs. T h e reasons fo r this are above a ll economic. Y e t it is possible th a t
in a d d itio n an astute P arty stratagem is involved: to equal the level o f
consum ption in W estern Europe, the tria l by fire o f the Bolshevik-
bureaucracy, at a freely chosen m om ent, steeled and w ith the absolute
ce rta in ty o f v ic to ry .26

Soviet society was undergoing “ the conversion o f the revolutionary

effort in to a technological effort,” concerned most pressingly not
w ith social change, but w ith “ electrification, canal construction,
the b u ild in g o f factories.” 27 A t the same tim e, and this is w hy Ben­
ja m in considers the P arty’s a ttitu d e tow ard mass consum ption so
crucial, the p o in t o f the revolution is social, not economic. Increas­
ing the level o f production is m erely a means to the end o f a society
beyond scarcity th a t can fu lfill not only m aterial but aesthetic and
com m unal needs. T he vibrancy o f collective fantasy is a crucial
in d ica to r o f the healthy development o f these needs. L im ite d to an
analysis o f n onling uistic expressions, B enjam in finds this collective
fantasy in an unofficial form o f popula r culture, namely, the non-
essentials fo r sale from unlicensed vendors in the tem porary stalls
and m arkets th a t scatter color on the snow-covered city streets:
paper fish, picture books, lacquered boxes, C hristm as ornaments,
personal photographs, confectionery delights, and more: “ Shoe
polish and w ritin g m aterials, handkerchiefs, dolls’ sleighs, swings
for children, ladies’ underwear, stuffed birds, clothes hangers
[. . ] ” 28
Com m odities here as elsewhere (like religious symbols in an ear­
lie r era) store the fantasy energy fo r social transform ation in reified
form . B u t the exigencies o f socialist accum ulation demand th a t this
energy be displaced onto production, w hile consum ption is in ­
definite ly postponed. M oreover, the unofficial culture o f M oscow’s
street markets, even as it expresses collective fantasy, does so large-
30
P a rti

ly in p re in d u stria l form . Hence the new significance o f artists, who

are socially useful precisely as experimenters who discover the hu­
m an and cu ltu ra l potential w ith in the new technology. Hence also
the dilem m a o f the Party. Econom ic revolution is the prerequisite
o f the c u ltu ra l revolution w hich is its goal, b ut in struggling to
achieve the form er the la tte r is neglected, or even repressed. In the
Soviet U n io n , as economic p lannin g takes precedence, official cu l­
ture its e lf becomes reactionary.

I t is now apparent in Russia th a t European values are being pop u la rize d

in ju s t the distorted, desoladng fo rm fo r w hich u ltim a te ly they have
im p e ria lism to thank. T h e second academic theater— a state-supported
in s titu te — is presenting a perform ance o f the Oresteia in w h ich a dusty
G reek a n tiq u ity struts a bout the stage w ith as m uch phoniness as in a
G erm an court theater.29

A vant-garde experim entation is no longer encouraged:

C ontroversies regarding fo rm s till played a not inconsiderable role at the

tim e o f the civil war. N ow they have fallen silent. A nd today the doctrine is
official th a t subject m atter, n o t form , decides the re v o lu tio n a ry o r co u n te r­
re vo lu tio n a ry a ttitu d e [H altung] o f the w ork. Such doctrines c u t the
ground from under the feet o f the lite ra ry producers [. . .T ]h e in te lle c tu a l
is above a ll a fu n ctio n a ry, w o rk in g in the departm ents o f censorship, ju s ­
tice, finance, and, i f he survives ru in , p a rtic ip a tin g in the actio n — w h ich ,
however, in Russia means pow er. H e is a m em ber o f the ru lin g class.30

For tw o months (December 6 -F e b ru a ry 1), Benjam in observed

Soviet c u ltu ra l life, liv in g in a M oscow hotel, his pension subsidized
by the Soviet state.31 H e had come to Russia w ith the though t o f
com m itm ent, to Asja Lacis and the C om m unist P arty.32 As his
personal d ia ry o f the tr ip testifies,33 both anticipations were dis­
appointed. T he artists and intellectuals w ith w hom B enjam in came
in contact were members o f the le ft-c u ltu ra l opposition w ho felt
themselves caught in a double-bind, as com m itm ent to the P arty o f
revolu tio n increasingly entailed the repression o f w hat they saw as
the inte llig e n tsia ’s revolu tio n a ry w ork. One had, fru stra tin g ly,
more freedom to develop the new technological forms in bourgeois
centers (B erlin, Paris) th a t co-opted the results. T he alternatives
were power w ith o u t freedom, or freedom w ith o u t power. The
potentia l o f intellectuals to contribute to the creation o f a tru ly
socialist culture demanded both, and nowhere did they exist
together. In his d ia ry, B enjam in outlined the dilem m a:
31________________
2 Spatial O rigins

W ith in the P arty: the enormous advantage o f being able to project y o u r

own thoughts in to som ething like a preestablished field o f force. T h e
a d m is s ib ility o f rem ain in g outside the P arty is in the fin a l analysis deter­
m ined by the question o f w hether or not one can adopt a m a rg in a l posi­
tio n to one’s own tangible objective advantage w ith o u t thereby going over
to the side o f the bourgeoisie or adversely affecting one’s own w ork. [. . . ]
W h e th e r o r n o t m y ille g a l incognito am ong bourgeois authors makes any
sense. A n d w hether, fo r the sake o f m y w ork, I should avoid certain ex­
tremes o f “ m a te ria lis m ” or seek to w ork out m y disagreements w ith them
w ith in the P a rty .34

A lth o u g h recognizing that not jo in in g m ig h t be a mistake, Ben­

ja m in s till felt him self draw n to an independent position “ as a left-
w ing outsider” ; he wondered w hether such a position could be
consolidated economically, “ w hich w ould continue to grant me
the possib ility o f producing extensively in w hat has so far been
m y sphere o f w o rk .” 35
B enjam in is reporting here a conversation he had, not w ith
Lacis, b u t w ith Bernhard Reich, an A u stria n dram atist who as a
C om m unist had im m igrated to Russia, but was now critica l o f the
P a rty’s c u ltu ra l lin e .36 Reich was not only B enjam in’s source o f
entry in to Soviet intellectual circles; he was ro m antically involved
w ith Lacis, whom he m arried in later life. For most o f B enjam in’s
stay (u n til she moved in to R eich’s apartm ent), Lacis was in a sani-
to riu m , convalescing from a “ nervous breakdow n,” 37 and although
she could leave in the daytim e to be w ith Benjam in, their tim e
alone together was lim ite d . None o f the three— Lacis, Reich,
B enjam in— were monogamous in th e ir relationships.38 Yet the
em otional painfulness o f B enjam in’s situation haunts his diary,
even i f his laconic account o f events stops short o f fu ll explanations.
E arly in his visit, B enjam in told Lacis th a t he wanted to have a
child w ith her.39 B u t he held back, at times, more than she. T h e ir
meetings lacked ease. T hey quarreled explosively, expressed affec­
tion tentatively. B enjam in com m unicated his emotions through the
m ediation o f his w ritings; Lacis asserted her independence through
p o litic a l disagreements. T h e ir affair remained suspended in a force
field, as i f a resolution o f tension w ould be as com prom ising in the
personal realm as in the p o litic a l one.
B e n ja m in ’s interpretations o f lite ra ry texts have been described
c ritic a lly as only allegories for his own lived experiences.40 The
m atte r m ay w ell be the reverse, that Benjam in perceived his own
32
P a rti

life em blem atically, as an allegory for social reality, and sensed

keenly that no in d iv id u a l could live a resolved or affirm ative exis­
tence in a social w orld th a t was neither. T he reader o f B en ja m in ’s
M oscow d ia ry feels im patience (as one can discern Lacis did then).
W h y was there not more o f Jack Reed in this m an’s character; w hy
could he not com m it h im se lf in love and in politics? H is last days in
M oscow were preoccupied w ith b uying Russian toys for his collec­
tion. H is last m eeting w ith Asja was as indecisive as a ll the earlier
ones. H is last words in the d ia ry are these: “ A t first she seemed to
tu rn around as she walked away, then I lost sight o f her. H o ld in g
m y large suitcase on m y knees, I rode through the tw ilit streets to
the station in tears.” 41 Was his impotence childish, or wise? O r was
it both?

P aris

A t the beginning o f his stay in Moscow, Benjam in wrote to J u la

Cohn: “ [. . .V Jarious circumstances make it like ly that from now
on I w ill contribute substantial articles to Russian jo u rn a ls from
abroad, and it is possible th a t I m ig h t do considerable w o rk fo r the
[G reat Soviet] Encyclopedia.” 42 He in fact completed one article for
the Encyclopedia, an entry on Goethe.43 I t is a clearly w ritte n , h ig h ly
o rigin a l in te rp re ta tio n o f the im pact o f class on the production , re­
ception, and historical transm ission o f Goethe’s w ork. B u t (iro n i­
cally repeating the ju d g m e n ta l values o f bourgeois academics) the
Soviet edito ria l board considered it too unorthodox, and u ltim a te ly
rejected it.44 As B enjam in w rote to H ofm annsthal in June 1927:
“ [. . .] I was able to observe [in M oscow] for m yself ju s t how
o p p o rtu n istica lly it [the e d ito ria l board] vacillated between th e ir
M a rx is t program o f knowledge and th e ir desire to gain some sort o f
European prestige.” 45
B enjam in was w ritin g from Paris, d u rin g an extended stay w hich
resulted in the earliest notes for the Arcades project. In p a rt, they
were w ritte n collaborative ly w ith Franz Hessel, B e n ja m in ’s B e rlin
editor, also liv in g in Paris, w ith w hom he had been w o rkin g for
several years on a translation o f Proust’s Remembrance o f Things
P a s t*6 In p a rt, they were B e njam in’s own notes, w hich soon began
to take on m uch larger proportions than the o rig in a lly planned a rti­
cle. The la tte r notes p a rtic u la rly show the influence o f Paris’ most
33________________
2 Spatial O rigins

avant-garde lite ra ry movement: Surrealism .47 Benjam in recalled

th a t the conception for the Passagen-Werk was inspired by reading
Louis A ra g o n ’s Surrealist novel, Le Paysan de P aris , in w hich the
Paris arcades figure centrally:

[. . . EJvenings in bed I could n o t read m ore th a n a few words o f it before

m y heartbeat got so strong I had to p u t the book dow n [. . .] . A n d in fact
the firs t notes o f the Passagen come fro m this tim e. T h e n came the B e rlin
years, in w h ich the best p a rt o f m y frie n d sh ip w ith [F ra n z] Hessel was
nourished by the Passagen-p ro je ct in frequent conversations. F ro m th a t
tim e came the subtitle : A d ia le ctica l F a iry Scene.48

B enja m in ’s early notes49 are fragments o f com m entary in w hich the

great m a jo rity o f the project’s themes are stated in abbreviated
fashion. T hey are assembled in no p a rtic u la r order: Arcades,
fashion, boredom, kitsch, souvenirs, wax figures, gaslight, pano­
ramas, iro n construction, photography, p ro stitu tio n , Jugendstil,
flaneur, collector, gam bling, streets, casings, departm ent stores,
metros, railroads, street signs, perspective, m irrors, catacombs, in ­
teriors, weather, w orld expositions, gateways, architecture, hash­
ish, M a rx , Haussmann, Saint-Sim on, G randville, W iertz, Redon,
Sue, Baudelaire, Proust. C entral m ethodological concepts are also
present in the notes: dream image, dream house, dream ing collec­
tive, ur-histo ry, now -of-recognition, dialectical image.
T he lis t its e lf suggests the Surrealists’ fascination w ith urban
phenomena, w hich they experienced both as something objective
and as som ething dream t. In 1927 Benjam in began to w rite an essay
on Surrealism (published in 1929). A t a rime when the Communist
P arty was c ritic a l o f the avant-garde,50 this essay expresses Ben­
ja m in ’s enthusiasm fo r the “ radical concept o f freedom” 51 to w hich
the Surrealists gave voice, and fo r th e ir “ profane illu m in a tio n ” 52 o f
the m aterial w orld. T h e y presented the “ surrealist” face o f Paris,
“ the center o f this w o rld o f things and the most dream ed-of
object,” 53 in images w hich had the psychic force o f m emory traces
in the unconscious.54 A ndre B reton’s novel N adja (1928), B enjam in
notes, is a book more about Paris than about the elusive heroine
named in the title .55 Breton includes photographs o f Paris em pty o f
people th a t m ark the narrated events as i f transient experience
could be made present w ith in the m aterial space o f cafes and street-
corners know n to the reader. Louis A ragon’s novel, Paysan de P aris ,
describes in detail one arcade, the Passage de l ’Opera, ju s t before
34
P a rti

this m aterial space its e lf disappeared, torn down to b u ild the

Boulevard Haussmann. In both books the ephemeral q u a lity o f the
m aterial w o rld is charged w ith meaning. The early Passagen-Werk
notes speak o f a “ crossroads’ 5 in “ the development o f th in k in g ”
where, in regard to “ the new gaze at the historical w o rld ,” a deci­
sion m ust be made concerning “ its reactionary or revolutiona ry
evaluation. In this sense, the same th in g is at w ork in Surrealism
and Heidegger.” 56
A t the same tim e, B e n ja m in ’s essay also criticizes the n ih ilis tic
anarchism o f Surrealism , the lack o f a constructive, d icta to ria l, and
disciplined side to its th in k in g that could “ bind revolt to the
re vo lu tio n .” 57 T he Surrealists recognized re a lity as a dream; the
Passagen-Werk was to evoke history in order to awaken its readers
from it. Hence the title fo r the Arcades project in this early stage:
“ a dialectical F a iry Scene.” Benjam in was intendin g to tell the
story o f Sleeping Beauty once again.58

B e rlin

From autum n 1928 to spring 1933, B enjam in spent most o f his tim e
in B erlin. In these last years o f the W eim ar R epublic, he managed
to eke out a liv in g , w o rkin g in his own “ little w ritin g fa cto ry,” 59
and he achieved considerable success.60 H e was a regular c o n trib u ­
to r (1926—29) to the B e rlin lite ra ry jo u rn a l Literarische W elt, w hich
published his articles “ alm ost weekly,” 61 w hile his contribution s
(1930-33) to the F rankfurter Zeitung averaged fifteen articles per
year. U sing the fo rm a t o f the book review, he turned these feuilletons
in to a forum fo r a politicized discussion o f the lite ra ry w rite r’s so­
cial situ a tio n .62
Even more innovative was B enjam in’s w ork in the new mass
m edium o f radio. In the years from 1927-33, radio stations in
F ra n k fu rt and B e rlin broadcast eighty-four programs w ritte n and
delivered by B enjam in.63 These included a regular program for
B e rlin youth th a t drew on the common experience o f the city, m uch
as the novels o f A ragon and Breton had draw n on th e ir readers’
comm on experience o f Paris, as the context as w ell as the content o f
the story. B u t these program s were not fiction, nor was th e ir style
surreal. W h ile entertainin g and often hum orous, they had a peda­
gogic purpose, to teach th e ir young audiences to read both the
35________________
2 Spatial O rigins

urban landscape and the lite ra ry texts generated w ith in it as ex­

pressions o f social history. T he p o litic a lly c ritic a l stance o f these
shows is explicit. For example, at the close o f a program entitled
“ The Bastille, the O ld French State Prison,” we are told: “ A ll these
things show how m uch the B astille has been a tool o f power, how
little a means o f ju s tic e .” 64 B u t the program s are to ta lly free o f an
a u th o rita ria n voice. Rather, the did a ctic message emerges effort­
lessly and disarm ingly out o f historical anecdotes, adventure stories,
and biographies o f lite ra ry figures. As storyteller, B enjam in
seems to be in co m p licity w ith children— and also w ith the lower
classes fo r whom education has tra d itio n a lly been a lesson in in te l­
lectual h u m ilia tio n . He comments in a program about Theodor
Hosemann, a nineteenth-century lith o g ra p h ic illu s tra to r o f c h il­
dren’s books:

N ow , one w o u ld have th o u g h t th a t, o u t o f pride, the B e rlin populace

w ould not have been able to let this a rtis t alone, who portra ye d th e ir c ity
in every sm all detail. B u t th a t was n o t at a ll the case. [. . .] T he entire a rt
o f Hosem ann seemed to them a b it com m on, not refined or learned
enough. R ig h t then they were tro u b lin g th e ir heads over such aesthetic
questions as: w hether it is fin e r to p a in t h isto rica l pictures, great battles,
and scenes o f parliam ents and in augurations o f kings, o r so-called genre
paintings [ . . . ] scenes from d a ily life, fo r example the p o rtly m onk w ho
raises his w ine glass, le ttin g the sun shine through the w ine and s m ilin g
contentedly, or a g irl reading a love-letter, surprised by her father in the
background, w ho looks in th ro u g h a crack in the door [. . .]. B u t thank
goodness there were others. T h e com m on people [das Volk] and the c h il­
dren. I t was precisely fo r them th a t Hosem ann labored.65

These program s affirm the in trin s ic a lly progressive, a n tie litist

potential o f radio as a m edium o f com m unication, capable o f estab­
lishing a new form o f folk culture.66 T hey show the influence o f
Lacis’ w ork w ith proletarian ch ild re n ’s theater in th e ir a n tia u th o r­
ita ria n approach to p o litic a l education. A n d they bear strongly the
im pact o f his friendship w ith Brecht in th e ir use o f entertainm ent
forms fo r did a ctic content.67
Together w ith Brecht, B enjam in planned a jo u rn a l named Krise
u n d K u ltu r (C risis and Culture) w hich, w ith o u t Party affiliation, was to
serve as

[. . .] an organ in w h ich experts fro m the bourgeois camp [he named

G iedion, K ra ca u e r, K orsch, Lukacs, M arcuse, M u s il, Piscator, Reich,
A d o rn o , and others] should try to present the crisis in science and a rt
36____
P a rti

[. . . ] w ith the purpose o f d e m onstrating to the bourgeois in te llig e n tsia

th a t the methods o f d ia le ctica l m a te ria lism are dictated by th e ir own
necessities [. . .]. T h e jo u rn a l should serve as propaganda fo r d ia le ctica l
m aterialism through its application to questions that the bourgeois intelligentsia is
compelled to acknowledge as their own.6*

Benjam in had indeed taken up the role o f the “ left-w ing outsider”
th a t he had contem plated in M oscow as a tem pting alternative to
Party m em bership.69 H e w rote to Scholem d u rin g a short v is it to
Paris in Ja n u a ry 1930 th a t his goal was “ to be considered as the
best c ritic o f [contem porary] Germ an lite ra tu re ,” w hich entailed
“ recreating” the genre o f lite ra ry reviews.70 Y et the conditions o f
cu ltu ra l crisis th a t allowed B enjam in, however tenuously, to sus­
tain h im se lf as an outsider, allowed criticism from the R ig h t to
flourish as w ell. B e n ja m in ’s efforts had been to convince bourgeois
intellectuals th a t th e ir own objective interests compelled them to
the side o f the pro le ta ria t. M eanw hile, the p ro le ta ria t was its e lf
shifting sides.71
The N azi slogan, “ Deutschland Erwache/ ” (“ Germ any, A w aken!” )
urged som ething very different from B enjam in’s conception, not
awakening from recent history, but recapturing the past in a
pseudo-historical sense, as m yth. H itle r used the mass m edium of
radio to foster a p o litic a l culture antith e tica l to that fo r w hich Ben­
ja m in was w orking. Fascism reversed the avant-garde practice of
p u ttin g re a lity onto the stage, staging not only p o litica l spectacles
b u t historical events, and thereby m aking “ re a lity ” its e lf theater.
M oreover, this to ta lita ria n inversion o f the L e ft-cu ltu ra l program
was triu m p h a n t in terms o f p o litica l success, as the L e ft was not.
For B enjam in, who understood “ self-reflection” not in the psycho­
logical, b u t the “ historico-philoso phical” sense,72 these develop­
ments were experienced as a personal crisis. A gainst the backdrop
o f fascism, the pedagogic plan o f the Passagen-Werk, a presentation
o f history th a t w ould <femythify the present, had become all the
more urgent. H e w rote to Scholem in 1930 th a t the Arcades project
was s till “ the theater o f a ll m y struggles and all m y ideas,” necessi­
tating, fo r a “ firm scaffolding, a more serious theoretical grounding,
“ nothing less than a study o f certain aspects o f Hegel as w ell as
certain parts o f C a p ita l” 73 Benjam in was realizing how m uch w ork,
and therefore tim e, the project w ould entail. For the le ft-w in g in te l­
lectual “ outsider,” however, tim e was ru n n in g out.
In the sum m er o f 1931 and again in 1932,74 B enjam in contem-
37
2 Spatial O rigins

plated suicide. Asja Lacis had returned to M oscow in 1930; that

same year his m other died; his divorce was fin a l. I f he claimed to be
at peace w ith his subsequent loneliness— w hether in his B erlin
apartm ent w ith its two-thousand volum e lib ra ry or in a p rim itiv e
sum m er house in Ib izza — he was weary o f the financial “ struggle
fo r existence,” 75 w hich became increasingly arduous w ith fascism’s
rising strength. He wrote to Scholem in J u ly 1932, o f “ success in
the sm all things b u t failure in the large ones,” among w hich he
counted, centrally, the “ Paris Passagen” 76 By 1933, even the “ small
things” could find no publisher, due to a sense o f “ terror regarding
every stance or method o f expression that does not conform to ta lly
to the official [fascist] one.” 77 T he p o litic a l atmosphere in B erlin
had grow n stiflin g , allow ing one “ scarcely to breathe.” 78 In Ja n u ­
ary 1933, Benjam in broadcast his last radio program for youth. I t
was the story o f an actual event, the flood on the M ississippi in
1927, an apparently “ n a tu ra l” disaster th a t was in fact caused by
the state. In an attem pt to save the p o rt city o f New Orleans, the
U n ite d States governm ent assumed emergency, d icta to ria l power
and ordered the destruction o f dams protecting miles o f shore up­
stream, an act th a t led to an unanticipated degree o f devastation o f
this a g ric u ltu ra l region. Benjam in tells his young listeners the story
o f two brothers, farmers in Natchez, whose entire means o f produc­
tio n were thereby destroyed, and who, stranded, clim bed to th e ir
rooftop to escape the flood waters. As the riv e r rose, one brother did
not w a it for death, b u t ju m p e d in to the water: “ ‘Farewell, Louis!
Y ou see, it has taken too long. [...] I ’ve had enough.’ ” 79 B ut the
other, h o ld in g on u n til seen and rescued by a passing boat, lived to
tell the story. T he brothers personified two sides o f B enjam in’s own
reaction to economic a n n ih ila tio n . In A p ril 1931 he had described
h im se lf as “ [...] a shipwrecked person a d rift on the wreck, having
clim bed to the top o f the mast w hich is already torn apart. B u t he
has the chance from there to give a signal fo r his rescue.” 80
For seven years, u n til the next flood, it was the survivor in Ben­
ja m in ’s character who won out.

A rcades

T he arcades th a t in the nineteenth century housed the firs t con­

sumer dream w orlds appeared in the tw entieth as com m odity
38
Parti

graveyards, containing the refuse o f a discarded past. The power o f

the arcades to evoke history fo r people o f B enjam in’s era was cap­
tured by Franz Hessel in his 1929 book, Spazieren in B e rlin (A W alk
in B e rlin ), w hich describes B e rlin ’s Kaisergalerie (modeled after the
Paris arcades):

I cannot enter it without a damp chill coming over me, without the fear
that I might never find an exit. I am hardly past the shoeshine and news­
paper stands under the lofty arches of the entrance, and I feel a mild
confusion. A window promises me dancing daily and that Meyer without
whom no party would be complete. But where is the entrance? Next to the
ladies’ hairdresser there is another display: stamps and those curiously
named tools of the collector: adhesive pockets with guaranteed acid-free
rubber, a perforation gauge made of celluloid. “ Be sensible! Wear wool!”
demands the next window o f me [ . . . ] . I [ . . . ] almost stumbled over the
peep shows, where one poor schoolboy stands, his school bag under his
arm, wretched, immersed in the “ scene in the Bedroom.” [. . .]
I linger over [. . . ] Knipp-Knapp cufflinks, which are certainly the best,
and over the Diana air rifles, truly an honor to the goddess of the hunt. I
shrink back before grinning skulls, the fierce liqueur glasses of a white
bone cocktail set. The clowning face of a jockey, a handmade wooden
nutcracker graces the end o f the musical toilet paper holder [. . . ].
The whole center of the arcade is empty. I rush quickly to the exit; I feel
ghostly, hidden crowds o f people from days gone by, who hug the walls
with lustful glances at the tawdry jewelry, the clothing, the pictures [. . .].
A t the exit, at the windows o f the great travel agency, I breathe more
easily; the street, freedom, the present!81

The w ay the past confronted one in these neglected arcades as free­

ly associated, long-forgotten images, was an external physical
experience that paralleled the internal, mental experience o f “ in ­
vo lu n ta ry m em ory” described in Proust’s Remembrance o f Things
Past, w hich together Hessel and Benjam in had translated. In 1932,
ju s t after B enjam in had contem plated suicide, he w rote dow n frag­
m entary reminiscences o f his own childhood in B erlin. These
texts82 occupy a m iddle position between Proust’s personal memo­
ries and the collective h isto ry B enjam in intended to evoke in the
Arcades project. Sparked by rooms in w hich he had lived, Proust’s
memories rem ain personal, locked in the private w o rld o f the
bourgeois in te rio r. B enjam in was concerned, rather, w ith how p ub­
lic space, the city o f B e rlin , had entered in to his unconscious and,
for a ll his protected, bourgeois upbringing, held sway over his im ­
agination. B enjam in’s recollections are o f covered markets, deso-
39

2 Spatial O rigins

late schoolrooms, rides to the railro a d station, shopping excursions,

skating rinks, student meetinghouses, brothel rooms, cafes, and, as
a young ch ild , the m yth ic a lly charged Tiergarten w ith its stone lions,
la b y rin th in e hedge, and Hercules Bridge. Associated w ith these
p u b lic spaces, memories o f his earliest class awareness and sexual
awareness become p a rt o f a common, sociohistorical past; nothing
pleased Benjam in more than Scholem’s response that there were
times reading them when he was able to come across his own
childhoo d.83
W ritin g these reminiscences m arked B enjam in’s leavetaking o f
any hom eland, and was in fact an e xp licit attem pt to im m unize
h im se lf against homesickness.84 W hen he took up the Arcades pro­
je c t again in Paris in 1934, it had a “ new face,” 85 more sociological,
more scientific than the early notes he and Hessel had made, and
was, o f course, more remote from his own personal history than
were the texts on B erlin. Y et he retained the notion th a t the
Arcades project w ould present collective history as Proust had pre­
sented his ow n— not “ life as it was,” nor even life remembered, but
life as it has been “ forgotten .” 86 Like dream images, urban objects,
relics o f the last century, were hieroglyphic clues to a forgotten
past. B e njam in’s goal was to in te rp re t for his own generation these
dream fetishes in w hich, in fossilized form , h istory’s traces had
survived. He wrote: “ [. . .W Jhat Proust experienced in the phe­
nomenon o f remembrance as an in d iv id u a l, we have to experience
in regard to fashion.” 87 A n d :

As P roust begins his life story w ith aw akening, so m ust every w o rk o f

h isto ry begin w ith awakening; indeed, it a ctu a lly m ust be concerned w ith
n o th in g else. T h is w o rk is concerned w ith aw akening fro m the nineteenth
ce n tu ry.88

The covered shopping arcades o f the nineteenth century were Ben­

ja m in ’s central image because they were the precise m aterial re p li­
ca o f the in te rn a l consciousness, or rather, the ^conscious o f the
dream ing collective. A ll o f the errors o f bourgeois consciousness
could be found there (com m odity fetishism, reification, the w orld
as “ inw ardness” ), as w ell as (in fashion, p ro stitution, gam bling) all
o f its utopian dreams. M oreover, the arcades were the first interna­
tio n a l style o f modern architecture, hence p a rt o f the lived experi­
ence o f a w orldw ide, m etropolitan generation. By the end o f the
40____

Part I

n in e te e n th c e n tu ry , a rca d e s h a d b e co m e th e h a llm a r k o f a “ m o d ­
e rn ” m e tro p o lis (as w e ll as o f W e s te rn im p e r ia l d o m in a tio n ) , a n d
h a d been im ita te d th r o u g h o u t th e w o r ld , fro m C le v e la n d to I s t a n ­
b u l, fr o m G la s g o w to J o h a n n e s b u rg , fro m B u e n o s A ire s to M e l­
b o u rn e . A n d as B e n ja m in w as w e ll a w a re , th e y c o u ld be fo u n d in
each o f th e c itie s th a t h a d b e co m e p o in ts o f h is in te lle c tu a l c o m ­
pass: N a p le s , M o s c o w , P a ris , B e rlin .
41
2 Spatial O rigins

2.2 G U M , Moscow.
42____

P a rti

2.3 Passage Choiseul, Paris.

43__________________

2 Spatial O rigins

2.4 K aiscrgalcrie, Berlin.

Part II
Introduction

W e are ready to enter the Passagen m aterial itself. The reader w ill
protest th a t it is high tim e, suspecting the lengthy in tro d u ctio n has
been a delaying tactic in order to avoid plungin g into the real sub­
stance o f the work. The reason for the delay has been the need to
establish as a context both the personal and social history in w hich
the project is embedded. This need is not pro form a. The Passagen-
Werk is a double text. O stensibly a social and cu ltu ra l history o f
Paris in the nineteenth century, it is in fact intended to provide a
p o litic a l education fo r B enjam in’s own generation. I t is an “ ur-
h isto ry ,” a history o f the origins o f that present historical moment
w hich, w h ile rem aining largely invisible, is the determ ining
m o tiva tio n for B enjam in’s interest in the past. A n d although this
second level w ill not be treated them atically u n til Part I I I , it is
im p o rta n t for the reader to be aware o f the nature o f B enjam in’s
historical experiences from the start.
N ow , it'm u s t not be forgotten th a t there is no Passagen- Werk. We
are in a real sense confronting a void. T he phenomenon to w hich
the title applies, volum e V o f the Gesammelte Schriften , provides abun­
dant traces o f an intended w ork w ith o u t being one. Y et in sheer
q u a n tity , this volum e constitutes a sixth o f B e njam in’s intellectual
production , and its fragments o f research and com m entary bear on
th a t set o f concerns th a t guided all o f his m ature th in kin g and w r it­
ing. T h e documents published as the Passagen-Werk comprise no
to ta lity . T h e ir coherence is in relation to the rest o f B enjam in’s
48
Part I I

w ork, from w hich they can be only a rtific ia lly demarcated. Indeed,
the Passagen-Werk m aterial contributed d ire ctly to these other w r it­
ings, even as the la tte r not infre q u e n tly affords us the clearest ex­
planatio n as to the meaning o f its fragm entary m aterial. D isplay B
is a chronological table th a t shows this interrelationship. T he list o f
related essays is not exhaustive. (Ideas for countless m in o r pieces—
reviews o f contem porary lite ra tu re , film , photography— were bor-

Display B
Passagen-Werk Related Works

1923 Baudelaire translations

“The Task of the Translator"

1924 "Naples"

1925 Proust translations

1926

"Passages" 1927 "Moscow"

"Paris Passages P (A* series)

1928 One Wav Street
Stage I "Paris Passages II" (a* series) The Oriain of German Trade Drama

"The Ring of Saturn, or Something 1929 "Surrealism"

on Iron Construction" "On the Image of Proust"

1930
Hashish experiments

1931 "Karl Kraus"

"A Short History of Photography"

1932 "Berlin Chronicle"

"Berlin Childhood in 1900“

1933 "On the Mimetic Faculty"

Konvolut Stage 1 1934 “The Author as Producer"

"Kafka"
Notes for 1935 expose
1935 expose 1935 "The Artwork in the Age of Technical Reproduction'
(published 1936)

Stage II Konvolut Stage II 1936 "The Storyteller

1937 "Edward Fuchs. Collector and Historian"

Konvolut Stage III 1938 "The Paris of the Second Empire in Baudelaire"
("Central Park")

Stage III 1939 expose 1939 "On Some Motifs in Baudelaire"

1940 Theses "On the Concept of History'

49___________
In tro d u ctio n

rowed at times whole cloth from the Passagen-Werk.) B u t they repre­

sent B e n ja m in ’s m ajor articles d u rin g the late twenties and thirties,
and they are related to the Passagen complex as the visible tip o f the
iceberg o f his intellectua l a c tiv ity .1
As the display indicates, it is possible to distinguish three stages
o f the Arcades project. Stage I (1926-29) resulted in (a) the short
text, “ Passages,” 2 w hich is “ the only fu lly form ulated and intercon­
nected te x t” from the very early period o f collaboration w ith Franz
Hessel3; (b) fragm entary notes from 1927-29, organized by the
editor as “ Paris Passages I ” (A ° series) and the conceptually more
developed “ Paris Passages I I (a° series), w hich articulate the
m otifs (e.g., boredom , dust, fashion, the nineteenth century as
H e ll), histo rica l figures (G randville, F ourier, Baudelaire, etc.), so­
cial types (whore, collector, gam bler, flaneur), and cu ltu ra l objects
(p a rtic u la rly the arcades and th e ir contents) th a t interested Ben­
ja m in for philosophico-fristorical reasons; and fin a lly, (c) the short
piece “ S aturn’s Rings, or Something on Iro n C onstruction,” the
only “ finished” pages o f text.4 B enjam in’s o rig in a l conception, a
politicized version o f Sleeping Beauty as a fa iry tale o f “ awaken­
in g ,” retold along M a rx is t lines, was intended to “ set free the huge
powers o f h istory that are asleep w ith in the ’once upon a tim e’ o f
classical historical n a rra tio n .” 5
W hen B enjam in resumed w ork on the Arcades project in exile in
1934, he abandoned the title o f “ A D ialectical F airy Scene” be­
cause it was “ im perm issibly poetic.” 6 D u rin g 1934, he in itia te d
Stage I I by w ritin g a series o f tw enty-tw o conceptual notes w hich,
w hile not really breaking from the earliest conception, gave to it
“ new and inte rve n in g sociological perspectives.” 7 He referred to
the “ strongly changed aspects” o f the project,8 and wrote th a t it
was now “ less a galvanization o f the past than anticipato ry o f a
more hum ane fu tu re .” 9 These new notes resulted in the 1935 ex­
pose o f the project w ritte n for the In s titu te for Social Research,10
w ith the new title : “ Paris— T he C a p ita l o f the Nineteenth Cen­
tu ry .” T he shift th a t took place in 1934-35 involved a more self-
conscious and deliberate a ttem pt to ground the project in M a rx is t
term s.11 B enjam in w rote th a t the concept o f “ the fetish character o f
com m odities” now stood “ at the center.” 12
Stage I I I o f the project (1937-40) was dom inated by B enjam in’s
w ork on a book about the poet Charles Baudelaire, also commis-
50
Part I I

sioned by the In s titu te . T h e la tte r received a version o f the m iddle

section o f the book in 1938, and rejected it; a re w ritte n section was
accepted in 1939. B oth these versions drew so thorough ly from the
Passagen-Werk notes and com m entary that it has been recently
argued the planned Baudelaire book supersedes the Passagen-Werk
com pletely.13 Y e t B enjam in continued to add to the other Konvoluts
rig h t through to 1940, and he composed a new, m odified French
version o f the Passagen-Werk expose in 1939.
I t was d u rin g the second stage th a t B enjam in began his elabo­
rate filin g system. W o rk in g d a ily in Paris’ B ibliotheque N ationale,
he read extensively in nineteenth-century sources,14 directed by the
m otifs o f the early notes. T h e consequent amassing o f annotated
research notes necessitated for purely practical reasons a fu n ­
dam ental reorganization. H e set up a filin g system wherein the ear­
ly m otifs became key words under w hich the relevant historical
docum entation was assembled. These files are the Konvoluts. By
December 1934, B enjam in had copied m any o f the early notes in to
this new key w ord system,15 arranging them along w ith subsequent
research and com m entary by means o f a rigorous num bering code
( A l, 1. . .; A la , 1. . .; A l , 2 . . . etc.) H is entries u ltim a te ly n u m ­
bered in the thousands. Because the num bering is generally chro­
nological, and because B enjam in on tw o occasions had the Konvolut
m aterial photocopied, we can distinguish three periods o f Konvolut
entries: early (before June 1935); m iddle (before December 1937);
and late (to M a y 1940).16 A lis t o f the key words o f B enjam in’s
filin g system follow s17:

K o n v o lu t T itle T im e Period o f the E ntries

early m idd le late

A. Arcades, N o ve lty shops, A l- A 5 a A 6 -A 1 0 a A 1 1 -A 1 3
salesmen
B. Fashion B l- B 4 a B 5 -B 7 a B 9 *-B 1 0 a
C. A n c ie n t Paris, Catacom bs,
D e m olitions, R u in o f Paris C l- C 3 a C 4—C7a C 8 -C 9 a
D. B oredom , E te rn a l D l- D 2 a D 3 -D 4 a D 6 * -D 1 0 a
Recurrence
E. H aussm annization, E l- E 6 a E 7 -E 1 0 a E ll- E 1 4 a
B arricade F ig h tin g
F. Iro n C o nstruction F l- F 4 a F 5 -F 7 a F 8 -F 8 a
d \________
In tro d u ctio n

K o n v o lu t T itle T im e Period o f the E ntries

early m idd le late

G. M ethods o f D ispla y, G l- G 8 a G 9 -G 1 4 a G 1 5 -G 1 6 a
A d ve rtisin g , G ra n d v ille
H . T h e C o lle cto r H l- H 2 a H 3 -H 3 a H 4 -H 5
I. T he In te rio r, Trace 11—14a I5 - I5 a 16-18
J. B audelaire — — J l- J 9 2 a
K. D ream C ity and D ream
House, D ream s o f the F uture, K l- K 3 a K 4 -K 4 a K 5 —K 9 a
A n th ro p o lo g ic a l N ih ilis m ,
Jung
L. D ream House, M useum , L l- L 2 a L 3 -L 4 a L 5 -L 5 a
F o u n ta in H a ll
M . T he F laneur M l- M 5 a M 6 -M 1 3 a M 1 4 -M 2 1 a
N. E pistem ology, T h e o ry o f N l- N 3 a N 4 -N 7 a N 8 -N 2 0
Progress
O. P ro stitu tio n , G am b lin g 0 1 -0 6 a 0 7 - 0 10a 0 1 1 -0 1 4
P. T h e Streets o f Paris P l- P 2 a P 3 -P 4 a P5
Q. P anoram a Q l- Q 2 a Q 3 -Q 3 a Q 4 -Q 4 a
R. M ir r o r R l- R 2 a — R3
S. P a in tin g , Jugendstil, Newness S l-S 4 a S5-S 6a S7-S11
T. Form s o f L ig h tin g T l- T 2 a T 3 -T 3 a T 4 -T 5
U. S aint-S im on, R ailroads U l- U 9 a U 1 0 -U 1 6 a U 1 7 -U 1 8
V. Conspiracies, Compagnonnage V l- V 3 a V 4 —V 8 a V 9 -V 1 0
W . F o u rie r W l- W 6 a W 7 —W 16a W 1 7 -W 1 8
X. M a rx — X l- X 2 a X 3 —X 1 3 a
Y. P hotography Y l- Y 4 a Y 5 -Y 8 a Y 9 -Y 1 1
Z. D o ll, A u to m a to n — — **

a. Social M ovem ent a l- a 6 a a 7—a19a a20-a23

b. D a u m ie r — b l —b la b2
c................
d. L ite ra ry H is to ry , H u g o d l- d la d 2 - d l4 a d l5 - d !9
e.
f. ..........
g. Stock M a rk e t, E conom ic H is ­ g l- g la g 2 -g 3 a g4
to ry
h.
52_____
Part I I

K o n v o lu t T itle T im e Period o f the E ntries

early m id d le late
i. Technologies o f R eproduc­ il- i2
tion, L ith o g ra p h y
k. T h e C om m une k l- k la k 2 -k 3 a k4
l. T h e Seine, oldest Paris — 11—11a 12-12a
m. Idleness — — m l- m 5
n.
o.................
p. A n th ro p o lo g ica l M a te ria l­ — p l- p 3 a p 4 -p 6
ism , H is to ry o f Sects
q............
r. Ecole polytechnique r l- r 3 a r4 -r4 a

t.

w.

In the fa ll o f 1934, B enjam in w rote to H orkheim er: “ The clear con­

struction o f a book stands before m y eyes,” 18 and he reiterated to
A dorn o in the spring th a t he now had a “ m ajor p la n ” for the
“ ‘Passages.’ ” 19 O n M a y 20, he inform ed Scholem it was the first
plan th a t “ approxim ate d— from afar” th a t o f a book20; the same
day he w rote Brecht th a t for this “ book,” he needed to in fo rm h im ­
self about “ a num ber o f things” through his research.21 The 1935
expose described six “ provisional chapter divisions” 22 for the p ro­
je ct, each o f w hich bro u g h t together a historical figure23 w ith a
historical phenomenon:

I. F ourier or the Arcades

I I . Daguerre or the Dioram as
I I I . G ra n d ville or the W o rld Expositions
IV . Louis P hilippe o r the In te rio r
53___________
Introd uction

V . Baudelaire or the Streets o f Paris

V I. Haussm ann or the Barricades

I t w ould seem logical to presume that the 1935 expose provides the
closest appro xim a tio n to the “ clear construction” o f the book that
by then B enjam in had in his m in d ’s eye.24 B u t in fact this expose
was a very incom plete rendering o f the m aterial already assembled.
N ot only does it leave out im p o rta n t conceptions from the early
notes, as A do rn o c ritic a lly observed25; it neglects significant aspects
o f the notes o f 1934 that develop these early themes s till further.
W h a t holds the 1935 expose together is the central problem atic o f
the effect o f in d u s tria l production on tra d itio n a l cu ltural forms. I t
connects d ire ctly to the 1936 essay, “ T he W o rk o f A rt in the Age o f
its T echnical R e p ro d u c ib ility ” by revealing “ the hidden structural
character o f present-day a rt.” 26 T he expose’s central concern, the
effects o f in d u stria liz a tio n on a rt and th e ir im plications for present
cu ltu ra l practice, acted like a magnet on the Konvolut fragm ents— at
the same tim e d istu rb in g th e ir position in earlier constellations
suggested by his o rig in a l notes, th a t in fact pulled them in quite
different directions. T he 1935 expose could have been the Passagen-
Werk had B enjam in been w illin g to discard these previous
constellations— and not to construct new ones. H e seems to have
been not at a ll disposed to do either.
W ith the relentless tenacity o f the collector (that nineteenth-
century figure whose social physiognom y he described in the
Passagen-Werk so perceptively), Benjam in refused to let go o f any o f
his concerns th a t had the power to charge the m aterial. Instead he
superimposed them , w ith the result th a t the p roject’s fragments are
bew ild e rin g ly overdeterm ined. M oreover, the conceptions double
back on each other, so th a t chronological divisions in no way cor­
respond to them atic ones. F or example: T he file on “ M a rx ” (Konvo­
lu t X ) was not begun u n til Stage I I o f the docum entation. B ut the
“ theory o f M a rx ” is referred to in the early entry “ 0 ° , 67.” A nd
although evidence o f real study o f C apital does not appear u n til the
second stage, an early note (“ Q °, 4” ) gives the page reference in the
rare, firs t edition o f C apital to the crucial passage on the fetish char­
acter o f com m odities.27 The cosmology o f B la n q u i w hich represents
the most significant add itio n o f m aterial in the 1939 expose in fact
repeats the theme o f the nineteenth century as H e ll that, lamented
54
Part I I

by A dorno fo r its absence in the 1935 expose, played such a p ro m ­

inent role in the 1927-29 notes. W h ile the title “ A D ialectical Fairy
Scene” was dropped after Stage I, the m otifs o f “ dream w o rld ” and
“ dream im age,” and the understanding o f dialectics as “ awaken­
in g ” from a dream were not given u p .28 T he Baudelaire Konvolut
was not developed u n til Stage I I I . Y et Stage I anticipates the “ very
im p o rta n t” theme o f “ Baudelairean allegory” 29 that becomes cen­
tra l to the Baudelaire “ book” o f this last stage. M oreover, this
“ book” not only returns to the earliest notes, but reaches back even
earlier to the Trauerspiel study, passages o f w hich are cited d ire ctly
in fragments added to the Konvoluts d u rin g Stage I I I , w hile the con­
ception o f em pathy ( E in fiih lu n g ) th a t is central to B enjam in’s m uch-
adm ired theory o f experience in the second Baudelaire essay o f
1939, marks the re tu rn o f an idea expressed in the earliest notes
that had, in the m eantim e, been neglected.30
Every attem pt to capture the Passagen-Werk w ith in one narrative
frame m ust lead to failure. T he fragments plunge the interpreter
in to an abyss o f meanings, threatening her or him w ith an episte­
m ological despair th a t rivals the m elancholy o f the Baroque alle-
goricists. ( I a d m it to n o t a few moments in the past seven years
when y ie ld in g to such despair— or, alternatively, reveling in the
semiotic free fa ll, under the banner o f th a t postm odernism w hich
already claims B enjam in as its ow n— seemed a delicious tem pta­
tion.) Y et as I shall argue, w hat saves the project from arbitrariness
is B enjam in’s p o litic a l concern th a t provided the o verriding orienta­
tio n for every constellation. Indeed, i f the a ttem pt to in te rp re t this
massive assembly o f research m aterial is ju s tifie d , it is due n o t to
any in trin s ic value in adding to the hagiography th a t has come to
surround B enjam in’s name, b u t to the fact th a t this ove rrid in g con­
cern is s till very m uch o u r own.
A lth o u g h the arrangem ent o f Passagen- Werk m aterial in the chap­
ters th a t fo llo w is a d m itte d ly a rb itra ry , the focus o f the in te rp re ta ­
tion is not. T o say th a t the Passagen-Werk has no necessary narrative
structure so th a t the fragm ents can be grouped freely, is not at a ll to
suggest th a t it has no conceptual structure, as i f the m eaning o f the
w ork were its e lf to ta lly up to the capriciousness o f the reader. As
Benjam in said, a presentation o f confusion need not be the same as
a confused presentation.31 A n d although the fact w ill not be heard
gladly by m any o f those who presently cite Benjam in in support o f
55___________
Introd uction

their own epistemological arbitrariness— w hich they claim is lib e r­

ating and dem ocratic, b u t w hich, when to ta lly w ith o u t principle, is
lite ra lly ty ra n n ic a l— the Arcades project makes it abundantly clear
that B enjam in considered such capriciousness o f meaning as a his­
to rica lly p a rtic u la r h a llm a rk o f the m odern era, one th a t needed to
be c ritic a lly understood, not b lin d ly affirm ed. M oreover, aesthetics
and lite ra ry theory were not to take the place o f philosophy, but,
rather, to relinquish th e ir tra d itio n a l subject m atter to philosophi­
cal interpretatio n.

Benjam in described the Passagen-Werk as a project in Geschichtsphilo-

sophie. Translated, the term is imprecise. T he German language
allows for a montage o f tw o concepts ( Geschichts/Philosophie; N a tu r/
Geschichte) w ith o u t stip u la tin g the semantic nature o f their connec­
tion, b u t in this case English is more fastidious. I f Geschichtsphilo-
sophie is translated (as is usually the case) “ philosophy o f h isto ry,”
the im p lic a tio n is th a t history develops in a philosophically
m eaningful way, m anifesting a teleological plan or goal. I f it is
translated “ historical philosophy,” the im p lic a tio n is th a t philoso­
phy develops in a h isto rica lly relative fashion, as the expression o f
an evolving Zeitgeist. Both ideas miss B e n ja m in ’s point, w hich was
to construct, not a philosophy o f history, b u t philosophy om/ o f his­
tory, or (this amounts to the same th in g ) to reconstruct historical
m aterial as philosophy— indeed, “ philosophical h istory” 32 m ight
be a less m isleading nom enclature.
In the Passagen-Werk B enjam in was com m itted to a graphic, con­
crete representation o f tru th , in w hich historical images made visi­
ble the philosophical ideas. In them, history cut through the core o f
tru th w ith o u t p ro vid in g a to ta lizin g frame. Benjam in understood
these ideas as “ discontinuous.” 33 As a result, the same conceptual
elements appear in several images, in such va rying configurations
th a t th e ir meanings cannot be fixed in the abstract. S im ilarly, the
images themselves cannot be strung together in to a coherent, non-
contra d icto ry picture o f the whole. A historical construction o f p h i­
losophy th a t is sim ultaneously (dialectically) a philosophical recon­
struction o f history, one in w hich philosop hy’s ideational elements
are expressed as changing meanings w ith in historical images that
56
Part I I

themselves are discontinuous— such a project is not best discussed

in generalities. I t needs to be shown.
The next four chapters are an attem pt to demonstrate w hat is at
stake in the conception. Each deals w ith the same three concepts—
m yth, nature, and h isto ry— as they enter in to four d istin ct theore­
tical constellations, and focuses thereby on a specific, conceptual
center o f g ra vity o f the Passagen-Werk (o f w hich the num ber is m u lti­
ple, b u t not u n lim ite d ). These “ conceptual centers,” im p lic it in the
Konvolut entries, have here been made explicit, in order to present
B enjam in’s detailed histo rica l research w ith in a conceptual frame
that makes the philosophical significance o f this research apparent.
C hapter 3, “ N a tu ra l H is to ry ,” deals w ith the conception o f the
Arcades project as an u r-h isto ry o f the nineteenth century. I t ex­
plains how B enjam in viewed the w o rld o f in d u stria l objects as fos­
sils, as the trace o f liv in g history th a t can be read from the surfaces
o f the survivin g objects, and it introduces the significance o f visual
“ concreteness” in B e n ja m in ’s m ethodology o f dialectical images in
a discussion o f his conception o f ur-phenomena.
C hapter 4, “ M y th ic H is to ry ,” deals w ith B enjam in’s critique o f
progress. T he first p a rt o f the chapter is descriptive, sum m arizing
the copious research w ith w hich Benjam in documented how the
phantasm agoria o f progress became embedded w ith in nineteenth-
century discourse by focusing on m aterial that w ould not be
treated system atically by social historians u n til our generation.34
Y et such an archaeology o f knowledge was only p a rt o f the task o f
Benjam in’s “ philosophical history.” The second h a lf o f chapter 4
describes how Benjamin attempted to construct a counter-discourse
by unearthin g buried markers th a t expose “ progress” as the
fetishization o f m odem tem p o ra lity, w hich is an endless repetition
o f the “ new” as the “ always-the-same.” T he rebus in w hich this
te m p o ra lity appears is fashion.
In chapter 5, B e njam in’s controversial idea o f wish images in the
collective unconscious is examined w ith some philological detail,
and discussed in the context o f his theory o f the superstructure as a
dialectic between utopian im agination and the new technological
potential. I t examines his philosop hico-political understanding o f
m odern culture, revolving around the polar concepts o f m odernity
and a n tiq u ity , organic nature and the new nature produced by
industry, and suggests criteria for distinguishing authentic from
57___________
In tro d u ctio n

pseudo-“ sublations” o f these polarities, w hich allow us to identify

as progressive those cu ltu ra l forms th a t do not repeat the old, b u t
redeem it. C hapter 6 focuses on B enjam in’s analysis o f modern alle­
gory as it is expressed in the poetry o f Baudelaire. Benjamin treated
B audelaire’s poetry as a social object, not a lite ra ry one. The result
is a s ta rtlin g m odification o f his early theory o f allegory as pre­
sented in the Trauerspiel study, one th a t reveals the absolutely new
conditions under w hich this lite ra ry form had been reanimated. I t
tells us more about the nature o f com m odity society, captured in
the image o f the ru in , than about either B audelaire’s aesthetic in ­
tention or the co n tin u ity o f lite ra ry forms.
In a very rough way, the chapters are chronological: The concep­
tion o f an u r-history o f the nineteenth century and o f historical ob­
jects as ur-phenomena goes back to the early notes and the first
stage o f Konvolut entries. S im ila rly, except for the m aterial on Blan-
qui, the m otifs o f chapter 4 (H e ll, dust, gam bling, fashion) are part
o f w h a t A dorno referred to as the “ glorious first d ra ft” o f the
Arcades project w hich Benjam in read at K onigstein in 1929. The
problem atic discussed in chapter 5 corresponds to that which forms
the structure o f the 1935 expose (and the 1936 A rtw o rk essay),
w hile chapter 6 draws heavily from Konvolut J on Baudelaire w hich
was not begun u n til Stage I I I o f the project (late 1937). Yet this
chronological order is in no way meant to suggest a developmental
one. T he documents give us every reason to take Benjam in at his
word, th a t w ith the 1935 expose nothing o f the early draft was given
up35; n o r was it ever abandoned. T he three “ stages” represent, not
a sequence, b u t an overlay o f m aterial and an overlapping o f con­
cerns.
As A d o rn o wrote after w orking through the Arcades documents
in the sum m er o f 1948, i f reconstructing the Passagen-Werk “ were
possible at all, then only Benjam in h im se lf could have done it . ” 36
The arrangem ent made here does not pretend to be such a recon­
struction. N or, for all its length, does it exhaust the e xtraordina rily
rich fund o f m aterial in the th irty -s ix Konvoluts. Its purpose is peda­
gogic. As a conceptual arrangem ent o f B enjam in’s research into the
history o f Paris in the nineteenth century, it begins w ith sim pler
ideas and builds on them, in order to show th at underlying these
fragm entary pieces o f data and m inute historical details, there is a
coherent and persistent philosophical design.
3 ___________________________
Natural History: Fossil

[. . . B enjam in had,] as no one else, the a b ility to regard h is to ric a l things,

m anifestations o f the objectified s p irit, “ c u ltu re ,” as i f they were n a ture
[ . . . ] . H is entire th o u g h t could be characterized as “ n a tu ra l-h is to ric a l”
[ naturgeschichtliches]. T h e p e trifie d , frozen, o r obsolete in v e n to ry o f c u ltu ra l
fragm ents spoke to h im [ . . . ] as fossils o r plants in the h e rb a riu m to the
c o lle cto r.1

W ith in the concept o f history, tim e indicates social change and the
uniqueness and irre v e rs ib ility o f hum an events. T ra d itio n a lly , it
has taken on m eaning in opposition to “ nature,” in w hich tim e is
change only in the sense o f cyclical repetition. Charles D a rw in ’s
theory o f evolution underm ined this b inary, however, by arguing
th a t nature its e lf had a unique, nonrepetitive, historical course. In
the late nineteenth century, Social D arw inists applied the terms o f
D a rw in ’s natural history to discussions o f “ social evolution.” O rig ­
in a lly, D a rw in ’s theory had a c ritic a l im pulse, in vo lvin g an under­
standing o f history in scientific, em pirical terms th a t challenged
theological m yth and B ib lic a l dogma. B u t w ith in Social D a rw in ­
ism, th a t c ritic a l im pulse was lost. T he idea o f social “ evolution” in
effect glorified the b lin d , em pirical course o f hum an history. I t gave
ideological support to the social status quo by claim ing th a t com­
petitive capitalism expressed true hum an “ nature,” th a t im p e ri­
alist rivalries were the healthy result o f an inevitable struggle fo r
survival, and th a t the ru lin g “ races” were ju s tifie d as the dom i-
nators on the basis o f “ n a tu ra l” superiority. W ith in this pseudo-
59_______________________
3 N a tu ral H istory: Fossil

s c ie n tific discourse, the cla im o f social in ju s tic e became a lo g ic a l

im p o s s ib ility .
Social D a rw in is m was based on an in h e re n t c o n tra d ic tio n , one
w h ic h had been exposed by m ore th a n one c ritic in B e n ja m in ’s
tim e. D o lf S ternb erg er (w h o m B e n ja m in kn ew in F ra n k fu rt before
1933)2 argued in his 1938 book, Panorama: Views o f the Nineteenth
Century, th a t the “ endless p a n o ra m a ” o f social e v o lu tio n m ade
b a re ly p e rce p tib le the b a ttle fie ld le ft b e h in d by “ n a tu ra l selection” :

[. . . C iv iliz a tio n [ . . .] stoutly keeps corroborating w ith extinction and

exterm ination as i f indeed civilization were not itself; i f the “ civilized
races” have in fact gained the upper hand, they are for this very reason
more savage than the savages. This paradox lies concealed in D arw in ’s
theory o f transitions.3

I n 1932 T h e o d o r [W ie s e n g ru n d -] A d o rn o , as n e w ly a p p o in te d p ro ­
fessor a t F ra n k fu rt U n iv e rs ity , gave a le ctu re th a t called fo r a
“ re o rie n ta tio n o f the p h ilo s o p h y o f h is to ry [ Geschichtsphilosophie] . ” 4
E n title d “ T h e Id e a o f N a tu ra l H is to r y ,” it tu rn e d the p a ra d o x in ­
h eren t in th is te rm in to a d ia le c tic a l a rg u m e n t. T h e speech shows
the in flu e n ce o f his talks w ith B e n ja m in in 1929 at K o n ig s te in w hen
the A rcades p la n was discussed, and i t makes d ire c t reference to the
Trauerspiel stu d y th a t had been the reason fo r B e n ja m in ’ s rejectio n
b y F ra n k fu rt U n iv e rs ity several years e a rlie r. A rg u in g against the
p h ilo s o p h ic a l synthesis o f n a tu re and h is to ry in H e id e g g e r’s p re ­
m ise th a t “ h is to r ic ity ” ( Geschichtlichkeit) is the “ n a tu re ” o f Being,
A d o rn o e m p loyed n a tu re and h is to ry as d ia le c tic a lly opposed con­
cepts, each o f w h ic h p ro v id e d a c ritic is m o f the o the r, and o f the
re a lity each was supposed to id e n tify .5 I n such an analysis

[. . . ] the moments o f nature and history do not disappear into each

other, but break simultaneously out o f each other and cross each other in
such a way that what is natural emerges as a sign for history, and history,
where it appears most historical, appears as a sign for nature.6

B e n ja m in expressed the same idea in an e a rly Passagen-Werk note

th a t lays d o w n as “ the a xio m o f the w a y to a void m y th ic th in k in g ” :
“ N o h is to ric a l category w ith o u t n a tu ra l substance; no n a tu ra l sub­
stance w ith o u t its h is to ric a l filte r .” 7 T h e m eth od relies on ju x ta p o s ­
in g b in a ry p a irs o f lin g u is tic signs fro m the language code (here
h is to ry /n a tu re ), and, in the process o f a p p ly in g these signs to m ate ­
r ia l referents, crossing the sw itches. T h e c ritic a l p o w e r o f th is
60
Part I I

m an eu ver depends on b o th the code, w h e re in m e a n in g arises fro m

b in aries o f s ig n ifie r/s ig n ifie d s in d e p e n d e n t o f the referents, and the
referents, the m a te ria lly e xistin g objects, w h ic h do n o t s u b m it to
language signs m eekly, b u t have the sem antic stre n g th to set the
signs in to question.
T h a t a c ritic a l, d ia le c tic a l “ id e a ” o f n a tu ra l h is to ry can also be
expressed in an im age was d em on strate d several years la te r by
J o h n H e a rtfie ld , w ho developed the new te chn iqu e o f p h o to m o n ­
tage. H is im age, e n title d “ G e rm a n N a tu ra l H is to r y ” (fig u re 3.1),
appeared on the A u g u s t 1934, cover o f Arbeiter Illu strie rte Z e itsckrift
(the Workers' Illustra ted Jo u rn a l) as a d ire c t p o litic a l a tta ck aga in st
H it le r ’s R eich b y c ritic iz in g its “ e v o lu tio n ” o u t o f the W e im a r
R e p u b lic.
H e a rtfie ld was a m e m b e r o f the B e rlin M a rx is t c irc le o f B re c h t,
Lacis, R e in h a rd t, and P iscator. I n the late W e im a r p e rio d , he de­
signed th ea te r sets fo r th e m th a t in c o rp o ra te d p ho to g ra p h s, p la c in g
the new technologies o f im a g e -re p ro d u c tio n “ consciously [ . . . ] in
the service o f p o litic a l a g ita tio n .” 8 H e was q u ite close to B re c h t,
and B e n ja m in knew b o th h im and his w o rk .9 In tr ig u in g fo r B en­
ja m in in H e a rtfie ld ’s w o rk m u st have been the use o f a lle g o ric a l
form s o f re p re sen ta tion in c o m b in a tio n w ith the m ost m o d e rn te ch ­
niques o f p h o to g ra p h ic m ontage.
L ik e m ost o f H e a rtfie ld ’s images, the poster, “ D eutsche
N a tu rg e s c h ic h te ,” is a m o d e rn -d a y e m b le m ,10 using the co nve n ­
tio ns o f inscriptio (title ) and subscripts (ca p tio n ) to m ake the im a ge
fu n c tio n as a fo rm o f m o ra l and p o litic a l in s tru c tio n . G e rm a n
“ n a tu ra l h is to ry ” is represented a lle g o ric a lly in the three b io lo g ic a l
stages o f d e ve lo pm e nt o f the D e a th ’ s H ea d M o th , a progression o f
m etam orphoses th a t suggests a causal lin k betw een the W e im a r
R e p u b lic and fascism (E b e rt was the firs t ch a n ce llo r o f W e im a r,
H in d e n b e rg its last p re sid e n t, w h o in tu rn approved H itle r as ch a n ­
c e llo r). A t the same tim e , th is progression (on a d y in g tree b ra n c h )
is seen as retrogression, and “ d e ve lo p m e n t” applies o n ly to increa s­
in g c la rity as to the n a tu re o f the beast: the visib le m a rk o f the s k u ll,
o r d e a th ’ s head, in its fin a l H itle r ia n fo rm . I have chosen to discuss
th is p a rtic u la r poster, n o t to stress H e a rtfie ld ’s in flu e n ce on B e n ­
ja m in , b u t to m ake a d id a c tic p o in t. ( I t m ig h t have been m ade
instead, fo r exam ple, w ith K a fk a ’s sto ry, “ M e ta m o rp h o s is ,” in
w h ic h the hero, O d a re k , tu rn s in to an insect, an a lle g o ric a l im age
61___________________________
3 N a tu ral H istory: Fossil

DEUTSCHE NATURGESCHICHTE
O e O T S C H tt T O T tN C O M -f A I T * *
W i> im **o o>rcx» pMwonfcv i i*

3.1 “ Germ an N a tu ra l H is to ry ,” photom ontage by Joh n H eartfield, 1934.

62_____
Part I I

in w h ic h the e v o lu tio n a ry process fro m a n im a l to m an is s im ila rly

in v e rte d .) Y e t B e n ja m in was e v id e n tly s tru c k b y th is p a rtic u la r
p h o to m o n ta g e (w e ll a fte r he had conceived o f s im ila r m o tifs fo r the
Passagen-Werk) . I n 1936, the ye ar a fte r a m a jo r H e a rtfie ld exposi­
tio n in P a ris ,11 the id e n tic a l im age appears in his correspondence,
in a c ritic a l co m m e n t on bourgeois in te lle c tu a l d eve lo p m e n t since
F ic h te : “ T h e re v o lu tio n a ry s p ir it o f the G e rm a n bourgeoisie has
been tra n s fo rm in g its e lf in to the ch rysa lis fro m w h ic h the D e a th ’s
H e a d M o th o f N a tio n a l S ocialism la te r c ra w le d .’ ” 12
H e a rtfie ld tells us in the ca p tio n to “ G e rm a n N a tu ra l H is to r y ”
th a t “ m e ta m o rp h o sis” has three m eanings: one fro m the discourse
o f n a tu re (the in se ct’s stages), one fro m th a t o f h is to ry (E b e rt-
H in d e n b e rg -H itle r), and one (liste d firs t) fro m the discourse o f
m y th : “ I n m y th o lo g y : the m eta m orph osis o f h u m a n beings in to
trees, a n im a ls, stones.” I t is th is m e a nin g w h ic h b o th e xplain s the
re p re se n ta tio n and p ro vid e s a c r itic a l ju d g m e n t o f the referent.
H e a rtfie ld presents the n a tu ra l e v o lu tio n o f G e rm a n p o litic a l h is­
to ry in the m y th ic a l fo rm o f a m eta m orph osis o f h um an s in to
n a tu re , in o rd e r to m ake the c ritic a l p o in t th a t the b e lie f in e v o lu ­
tio n a ry progress as social h is to ry ’ s n a tu ra l course is a m y th , in the
fu lly negative sense o f illu s io n , e rro r, ideology. H e a rtfie ld , a C o m ­
m u n is t, was n o t a tta c k in g the c a p ita lis t class’ a ffirm a tio n o f Social
D a rw in is m to ju s tify its o w n d om in a nce , b u t, ra th e r, the a ffirm a ­
tio n b y Social D em ocra ts o f the idea o f h is to ric a l progress, w h ic h
had lu lle d th em in to a false sense o f se cu rity re g a rd in g the ade qu a ­
cy o f W e im a r p a rlia m e n ta ria n is m fo r so cia list p o litic s .13
N o te th a t the id e o lo g ica l fu sion o f n a tu re and h is to ry w he n re ­
p ro d u ce d b y H e a rtfie ld th ro u g h an a lle g o rica l use o f p h o to m o n ta g e
a llo w s the gap betw een sign and refe ren t to re m a in v is ib le , thus
e n a b lin g h im to represent th e ir id e n tity in the fo rm o f a c ritiq u e .
B e n ja m in h ad w o rke d s im ila rly in One Way Street, c o n s tru c tin g a
m on tag e o f ve rb a l ra th e r th a n p h o to g ra p h ic im ages th a t, instea d o f
c o n fo u n d in g n a tu re and h is to ry in to one, re lie d on the se m a n tic
gap betw een these term s to id e n tify c ritic a lly the o b je ctive essence
o f W e im a r’s econom ic in fla tio n and the b ourgeoisie’s social decline.
I n “ Im p e ria l P a n o ra m a ” :

A curious paradox: people have only the narrowest private interests in

m ind when they act, yet in their behavior they are more than ever deter-
63__________________________
3 N a tu ra l H istory: Fossil

STIMME AUS DEM SUMPF

'Dreitausend Jahre konscquenter fruucbt beweisen die Uberiegenheit memcr Rasse 1

3.2 “ V oice from the Swamp: ‘Three thousand years o f stric t inbreeding demonstrate the
sup eriority o f m y race,’ ” photom ontage by J oh n H eartfield, 1936.
64
Part I I

mined by the instincts o f the mass. And, more than ever, mass instincts
have grown mad and hostile to life. Where the dim instincts o f the
anim al— as numerous stories relate— finds a way o f escaping from an
approaching yet still-invisible danger, here society, wherein people have
only their own low ly well-being in m ind, falls victim to even the most
nearby danger w ith brutelike dullness, but w ithout the dim knowledge o f
animals, as a blind mass [ . . . ]. Thus in this society the picture o f im becil­
ity is complete: uncertainty, indeed, perversion o f the instincts v ita l for
life, and helplessness, indeed, decay o f the intellect. This is the state o f
m ind o f the entire German bourgeoisie.14

A g a in s t the a n im a lis tic ye t se lf-d estru ctive b e h a v io r of the

bourgeoisie— w ho w ere d e m o n s tra tin g a ll the signs o f a v a n is h in g
species— B e n ja m in opposed the co n stru ctive p o te n tia l o f the new
in d u s tria l era: “ H u m a n s as a species reached the end o f th e ir
d e ve lo pm e nt tens o f thousands o f years ago; b u t h u m a n ity as a
species is ju s t at its b e g in n in g ” 15— so ra d ic a l a b re ak w ith the
“ n a tu ra l” state o f th in g s was the social promise o f te chn olo gy, the
b e g in n in g o f a tr u ly h u m a n h is to ry . M a r x had argued s im ila rly
th a t u n til the new p o te n tia l o f in d u s tria lis m was rea lize d, a ll h is­
to ry was o n ly “ p re h is to ry ,” d o m in a te d b y the “ n a tu ra l la w s ” o f
c a p ita lis m th a t resulted in a re p e titiv e cycle o f in fla tio n , depression,
a nd u n e m p lo ym e n t. So lo n g as people w ere held u n d e r the p ow er o f
these b lin d forces, the p ro m ise o f a u n ive rsa l h u m a n h is to ry co uld
n o t come in to its o w n .16
E x tre m e o p tim is m c o n ce rn in g the pro m ise o f the “ n e w ” n a tu re
o f techn olo gy, and to ta l pessim ism co nce rn ing the course o f h is to ry ,
w h ic h w ith o u t p ro le ta ria n re v o lu tio n w o u ld never leave the stage o f
p re h is to ry — th is o rie n ta tio n characterizes a ll stages o f the A rcades
p ro je ct. T h e m ontage o f n a tu re and h is to ry w ith w h ic h B e n ja m in
had a lrea d y e xpe rim en ted in One Way Street was developed in i t as
an expression o f the p re h is to ric state o f present h is to ry , b u t w ith
th is difference. T h e Passagen-Werk treats the h is to ric a l origins o f the
present: N a tu ra l h is to ry becomes u r-h is to ry . Its goal is n o t o n ly to
p olem icize against the s till-b a rb a ric level o f the m o d e rn age, b u t,
ra is in g polem ics to h is to ric o -p h ilo s o p h ic th e o ry, to disclose th e es­
sence o f the “ new n atu re ” as even m ore transient, m ore fleeting th an
the o ld . N a tu ra l h is to ry as u r-h is to ry m ea nt b o u rg eo isjD reh istory as
p re h is to ric . T h is was a ce n tra l im age in the Passagen-Werk.
T h e s h o rt h a lf-life o f technologies and co m m o d itie s, the ra p id
tu rn o v e r in style and fashion, was experienced in h ig h c a p ita lis m as
65_______________________
3 N a tu ral H istory: Fossil

extrem e te m p o ra l a tte n u a tio n . F o r those liv in g in the 1920s, the

novelties o f even one’ s p a re n ts’ y o u th — g a slig h t instead o f neon
signs, buns and bustles instead o f bobbed h a ir and b a th in g suits—
belonged to a d is ta n t past. T hose e arly bourgeois a rtifa cts w h ic h
m anaged to su rvive in the aging arcades w here, “ fo r the firs t tim e,
the m ost recent past becomes d is ta n t,” 17 w ere the a rch aic residues,
the p e trifie d u r-fo rm s o f the present.

When as children we were given those great collected editions, The Cosmos
and Humanity, New Universe, or The Earth, would our gaze not fall first o f all
on the colored [illustrations] o f petrified landscapes or the “ lakes and
glaciers o f the first ice age” ? Such an idealized panorama o f a scarcely past
ur-epoch opens up when we gaze into the Passages that have spread into
every city. Here is housed the last dinosaur o f Europe, the consumer.18

A la te r fo rm u la tio n specifies:

Just as there are places in the stones o f the Miocene or Eocene Age that
bear the impression o f huge monsters out o f these geological epochs, so
today the Passages lie in the great cities like caves containing fossils o f an
ur-anim al presumed extinct: The consumers from the preim perial epoch
o f capitalism, the last dinosaurs o f Europe.19

T h e pre-1850 consum ers are “ u r-a n im a ls ” n o t because consumption

has disappeared, b u t because i t no lo n g e r exists in its e arly c a p ita l­
is t fo rm . B y the tw e n tie th c e n tu ry the o rig in a l arcades had fa ile d
fin a n c ia lly , because th e ir s m a ll sp ecialty shops o f lu x u ry goods
w ere u n a ble to com pete w ith huge new d e p a rtm e n t stores th a t sold
m ass-produced co m m od ities at a pace ra p id enough to com pensate
fo r fa llin g rates o f p ro fit. I t is fo r th is reason th a t B e n ja m in calls the
e a rly bourgeois consum ers “ the la st d inosaurs o f E u ro p e ,” g ro w n
e x tin c t due to the “ n a tu ra l” e v o lu tio n o f th a t in d u s tria l c a p ita lis m
w h ic h the bourgeoisie its e lf unleashed. I n the d y in g arcades, the
e a rly in d u s tria l co m m od ities have created an a n te d e lu via n la n d ­
scape, an “ u r-lan dsca pe o f c o n s u m p tio n ,” 20 b e a rin g w itness to the
“ d ecline o f an econom ic epoch” w h ic h the “ d re a m in g c o lle c tiv e ”
m istakes fo r “ the d ecline o f the w o rld its e lf.” 21 L ik e the caves o f an
a rch ae olo gica l site, th ey co n ta in the last c e n tu ry ’s fashions in situ :

In the windo4w displays o f beauty salons are the last women w ith long
hair. They have rich, undulating hair masses w ith a “ permanent wave”
— fossilized hair curls.22
66
Part I I

L e fto v e r co m m od ities “ g ro w on the w a lls ” o f these deserted caves

lik e scar tissue, “ a n cie n t, w ild flo ra w h ic h , blocked o ff fro m the
“ sap” o f consum er tra ffic , “ e n tw in e w ith each o th e r in the m ost
irre g u la r fa sh io n .” 23 F aded w a ll posters co n ta in “ the firs t dro ps o f
a ra in o f letters th a t to d a y p ours d o w n w ith o u t le t-u p d ay and n ig h t
on the c ity and is greeted lik e the E g y p tia n plague. . . .” 24 T h e lig h t
filte rs th ro u g h th e ir d in g y glass roofs as in to an a q u a riu m o f p r im i­
tiv e sea life .25 Shop signs h ang in th em lik e zoo signs, “ re c o rd in g
n o t so m uch the h a b ita t as the o rig in and species o f c a p tu re d
a n im a ls .” 26 A lre a d y in the n in e te e n th c e n tu ry , the in te rio rs o f
bourgeois d w e llin g s w ere “ a k in d o f casing,” in w h ic h the
bourgeois in d iv id u a l as a “ c o lle c to r” o f objects was em bedded w ith
a ll his appurtenances, “ a tte n d in g to his traces as n a tu re attends to
dead fa un a em bedded in g ra n ite .” 27 T h e p h ys io g n o m y o f Paris,
w h ic h has been shaped b y social forces, is com pared b y B e n ja m in
to a geological fo rm a tio n th a t has the a ttra c tio n o f a v o lc a n ic la n d ­
scape:

As a social form ation, Paris is a counterimage to that which Vesuvius is as

a geographic one: A threatening, dangerous mass, an ever-active June o f
the Revolution. But ju s t as the slopes o f Vesuvius, thanks to the layers o f
lava covering them, have become a paradisiacal orchard, so here, out o f
the lava o f the Revolution, there bloom art, fashion, and festive existence
as nowhere else.28

As is obvious p a r tic u la rly in the la st q u o ta tio n , the new n a tu re th a t

com prises the P a risia n landscape has its “ a llu rin g as w e ll as
th re a te n in g face.” 29 S im ila rly , the fossilized c o m m o d ity rem ain s
are n o t m e re ly “ fa ile d m a te ria l.” 30 As traces o f p rio r life , th ey are
h is to ric a l clues, w ith an o bjective m ea n in g th a t separates B e n ­
ja m in ’ s “ id e a ” o f n a tu ra l h is to ry fro m the s im p le r, m ore p o le m ic a l
fo rm o f H e a rtfie ld ’ s m ontage. B e n ja m in perceived h is to ric a l n a tu re
as an expression o f t r u t h ’s essential tran sitorine ss in its c o n tra d ic ­
to ry extrem es— as e x tin c tio n and death on the one h a n d , and as
creative p o te n tia l and the p o s s ib ility fo r change on the o the r.
N o t o n ly n a tu re , b u t a ll the categories in B e n ja m in ’s th e o re tic a l
co nstructio n s have m ore th a n one m e a nin g and value, m a k in g i t
possible fo r th em to e n te r in to va rio u s conceptual co nste lla tion s.
A d o rn o , in his speech on “ N a tu ra l H is to r y ,” showed the in flu e n ce
o f B e n ja m in w hen he spoke o f a “ lo g ica l s tru c tu re ” d iffe re n t fro m
th a t o f tra d itio n a l p h ilo s o p h y , w here concepts lik e n a tu re and his-
to rv . m v th a n d t r a n s ie n c v h a d b e e n d is tin g u is h e d f r o m o n e a n o t h e r
67_______________________
3 N a tu ral H isto ry: Fossil

by “ in v a ria n ts ” in th e ir m eaning. In ste a d , “ th ey come to gether

a ro u n d a concrete h is to ric a l fa c tic ity , one th a t opens its e lf up in
co nn ectio n w ith th e ir m om ents, in its o n e -tim e -o n ly uniqueness.” 31
T h e p o in t o f difference betw een A d o rn o and B e n ja m in , w h ic h even­
tu a lly became a source o f c o n flic t,32 was th a t B e n ja m in believed
such p h ilo s o p h ic o -h is to ric a l co nste lla tion s co u ld be represented by
a d ia le c tic a l im age ra th e r th a n b y d ia le c tic a l a rg u m e n ta tio n .
T h e co nce ptio n o f “ d ia le c tic a l im a g e ” is o verd e te rm in e d in B en­
ja m in ’s th o u g h t. I t has a lo g ic as ric h in p h ilo s o p h ic a l im p lic a tio n s
as the H e g e lia n d ia le ctic, and, indeed, the u n fo ld in g o f its c o m p le x ­
ities is a task o f each and every c h a p te r o f th is stu dy. In the present
co n te xt i t refers to the use o f a rch a ic im ages to id e n tify w h a t is
h is to ric a lly new a b o u t the “ n a tu re ” o f co m m od ities. T h e p rin c ip le
o f c o n s tru c tio n is th a t o f m ontage, w h e re b y the im a ge ’s id e a tio n a l
elem ents re m a in u nreco nciled , ra th e r th a n fu sin g in to one “ h a rm o ­
n iz in g p erspe ctive.” 33 F o r B e n ja m in , the te chn iqu e o f m ontage had
“ special, perhaps even to ta l rig h ts ” as a progressive fo rm because it
“ in te rru p ts the co nte xt in to w h ic h i t is in s e rte d ” and thus “ co un ­
teracts illu s io n ” 34 and he in te n d e d i t to be the p rin c ip le g o v e rn in g
the c o n s tru c tio n o f the Passagen-Werk: “ T h is w o rk m ust develop
to the h ig he st p o in t the a rt o f c itin g w ith o u t c ita tio n m arks. Its
th e o ry connects m ost closely w ith th a t o f m on ta g e .” 35
T h e re is, o f course, a n o th e r use o f m ontage th a t creates illu s io n
b y fu sin g the elements so a r tfu lly th a t a ll evidence o f in c o m p a ti­
b ility and c o n tra d ic tio n , indeed, a ll evidence o f a rtific e , is
e lim in a te d — as in the fa lsifie d p h o to g ra p h ic d ocu m e nt, as o ld as
p h o to g ra p h y its e lf (fig u re 3.3). T h is was the p rin c ip le as w e ll o f the
“ p a n o ra m a s,” those a r tific ia lly co nstructed , life lik e replicas o f
scenes fro m h is to ry and n a tu re — e v e ry th in g fro m b a ttle fie ld s to
a lp in e vista s— th a t were fa v o rite a ttra c tio n s in the n in e te e n th cen­
tu ry , and th ey p ro vid e d a ke yw o rd fo r the Passagen-Werk.36 “ P a no r­
a m a ,” was “ p la g ia riz e d ” 37 fro m B e n ja m in b y S ternberger as the
tid e fo r his book. I t co nta ine d a c ritiq u e o f the p o p u la riz a tio n o f
D a r w in ’s th e o ry as a “ p a n o ra m a o f e v o lu tio n ” (figu re 3.4) th a t
makes h is to ry loo k lik e a “ n a tu ra l pro gressio n ” fro m ape to m an, so
th a t “ the eye and the m in d ’ s eye can slide u n h in d e re d , up and
d o w n , back and fo rth , across the p ictures as they them selves
‘evolve ’ .” 38
N o t the m e d iu m o f re p re sen ta tion , n o t m e re ly the concreteness o f
the im age o r the m ontage fo rm is c ru c ia l, b u t w h e th e r the construe-
68
Part I I

3.3 Falsified photograph o f violence against the clergy by the Paris C om m unards,
photom ontage by E. A p p e rt, 1871.

tio n m akes v is ib le the gap betw een sign and referent, o r fuses th e m
in a deceptive to ta lity so th a t the ca p tio n m e re ly d u p lic a te s the
se m iotic co n te n t o f the im age instead o f se ttin g it in to q u e s tio n .39
W h e n h is to ric a l referents are called “ n a tu ra l” in u n c ritic a l a ffirm a ­
tio n , id e n tify in g the e m p iric a l course o f th e ir d eve lo pm e nt as p ro ­
gress, the result is m y th ; w hen p rehistoric nature is evoked in the act
o f n a m in g the h is to ric a lly m od e rn , the effect is to d e m y th ify . B u t
B e n ja m in ’s a im was n o t m e re ly to c ritic iz e “ n a tu ra l h is to ry ” as
ide olo gy; i t was to show h ow , w ith in the r ig h t c o n fig u ra tio n , the
id e a tio n a l elem ents o f n a tu re and h is to ry co uld reveal th e tr u th o f
m od ern re a lity , its tra n sito rin e ss as w e ll as its p rim itiv e stage.
I t was c ru c ia l to B e n ja m in ’s th e o ry th a t fo r the purposes o f p h ilo ­
soph ica l u n d e rs ta n d in g there was no absolute, ca te g o rica l d is ­
tin c tio n betw een te ch n o lo g y and n a tu re — L u d w ig K la ge s was
“ re a c tio n a ry ” to suggest o th e rw ise .40 T e ch n o lo g y was o f course
so cia lly and h is to ric a lly p ro du ced , w h ic h is w h y G eorg L uka cs
term ed i t “ second n a tu re ,” in o rd e r to c ritic iz e the p re s u m p tio n
th a t the w o rld in its g ive n fo rm was “ n a tu ra l” in the o n to lo g ic a l
sense. In the Passagen-Werk, L u k a c s ’ concept o f “ second n a tu re ”
does n o t p la y a role, how ever, a lth o u g h B e n ja m in was fa m ilia r w ith
69__________________________

3 N a tu ral H istory: Fossil

3.4 “ T h e F a m ily G ro up o f the K a ta rrh in e n ,” a rdst unknow n, in E. Heckel, D ie naturliche

Schopfongsgeschickte, 1902.
70
Part I I

the la tte r ’s w ritin g s (an d a lth o u g h A d o rn o used th is te rm , a ckn o w ­

le d g in g Lukacs as his so urce.)41 T h e concept o f “ second n a tu re ,”
a lth o u g h in te n tio n a lly a M a r x is t category, was u nd ersto od by
Lukacs w ith in a s tro n g ly H e g e lia n p h ilo s o p h ic a l fra m e .42 Second
n a tu re was a lienated and re ifie d s u b je c tiv ity , a w o rld created by
hum ans w h o d id n o t recognize i t as th e ir ow n. F o r B e n ja m in , in
co ntrast, m a te ria l n a tu re was “ o th e r” th a n the subject, and th is
rem ain ed tru e no m a tte r h o w m u ch h u m a n la b o r had been invested
in it. Y e t m o d e rn ity m a rke d a ra d ic a l break in its fo rm . T h e p a ra ­
d ox was th a t predicates u s u a lly a ttrib u te d to the o ld , o rg a n ic
n a tu re — p ro d u c tiv ity and tra n sito rin e ss as w e ll as decay and
e x tin c tio n — w hen used to describe the fworganic “ new n a tu re ” th a t
was the p ro d u c t o f in d u s tria lis m , nam ed precisely w h a t was r a d i­
c a lly new a b o u t it.
B e n ja m in d id n o t use the te rm “ new n a tu re ,” w h ic h I have
adopted fo r in te rp re tiv e c la rity , and w h ic h strikes me as m ore accu­
rate th a n , say, the M a r x is t te rm “ p ro d u c tiv e forces,” because B en­
ja m in m e a n t by i t n o t ju s t in d u s tria l technology b u t the e n tire
w o rld o f m a tte r (in c lu d in g h u m a n beings) as it has been tra n s ­
fo rm e d b y th a t te ch n o lo g y.43 T h e re have been, then, tw o epochs o f
n a tu re . T h e firs t evolved s lo w ly over m illio n s o f years; the second,
o u r ow n, began w ith the in d u s tria l re v o lu tio n , and changes its face
d a ily . T h is new n a tu re , its pow ers s till u n kn o w n , can a p p ea r o m i­
nous and te rrify in g to the firs t generations c o n fro n tin g it, g iven
“ 'the ve ry p rim itiv e fo rm o f the ideas o f these g e n e ra tio n s” 44 w ho
have ye t to le a rn to m aster, n o t th is n a tu re itse lf, b u t h u m a n ity ’ s
re la tio n s h ip to it. Such m aste ry dem ands b eing rece ptive to the
expressive p o w e r o f m a tte r, a m im e tic , n o t an in s tru m e n ta l s k ill;
and i t is the ce n tra l in te lle c tu a l task o f the m od ern era.
I n th is s till e a rly stage o f in d u s tria l n a tu re i t is no a c c id e n t th a t
e a rly m o d e rn ity feels an a ffin ity fo r the p rim itiv e and the a rch aic:
C lassical a n tiq u ity was a “ fa sh io n ” in the n in e te e n th c e n tu ry (as
we sh all see45); in B e n ja m in ’s o w n tim e “ p r im itiv is m ” was in
vogue. B u t it m u st also be em phasized th a t B e n ja m in id e n tifie s
o n ly w h a t is new in h is to ry as p re h is to ric . T h e co nce ptio n is d ia le c ­
tic a l. T h e re is no b io lo g ic a l o r o n to lo g ica l “ p rim itiv e n e s s ” th a t
defies h is to ric a l tra n s fo rm a tio n . H e c ritic iz e d e x p lic itly such a con­
te n tio n : “ T h e a rch a ic fo rm o f p re h is to ry w h ic h has been evoked in
every era, and m ost re c e n tly by J u n g , is the one th a t m akes illu s o ry
71_______________________
3 N a tu ra l H isto ry: Fossil

appearance in h is to ry a ll the m ore b lin d in g by assigning to i t

n a tu re as a h o m e .” 46

In the m id -th irtie s , B e n ja m in decided to in c lu d e a ctu a l images in

the Passagen-Werk. H e w ro te to G re te l K a rp lu s : ‘ ‘T h is is in fa ct new:
As a p a rt o f m y stu d y I am ta k in g notes on im p o rta n t and rare
im age m a te ria l. T h e book— th is m u ch I have kn o w n fo r some
tim e — can be fu rn ish e d w ith the m ost im p o rta n t illu s tra tiv e d o cu ­
m ents [ . . . ] . ” 47 F ro m M a y to S eptem ber 1935, and again in J a n u ­
a ry 1936, he w o rke d in the archives o f the Cabinet des estampes in the
B ib lio th e q u e N a tio n a le .—IfL su ch research in ic o n o g ra p h ic d o cu ­
m e n ta tio n was “ s till ra re ” am ong h is to ria n s ,48 i t was unh ea rd o f
a m ong p hiloso ph ers. B e n ja m in had copies m ade o f releva n t illu s ­
tra tio n s w h ic h he fo u n d there, keeping th e m in his Paris a p a rtm e n t
as “ a k in d o f a lb u m .” 49
T h e a lb u m appears to have been lo s t.50 I t makes little difference,
how ever, fo r B e n ja m in ’s p h ilo s o p h ic a l co nce ptio n w h e th e r the
“ im ages” o f the n in etee nth c e n tu ry w h ic h he fo un d fo r the p ro je c t
w ere p ic to r ia lly o r v e rb a lly represented. W h ic h e v e r fo rm th ey took,
such im ages w ere the concrete, “ sm a ll, p a rtic u la r m om en ts” in
w h ic h the “ to ta l h is to ric a l e ven t” was to be discovered,51 the “ per­
c e p tib le u r-p h e n o m e n o n [ Urphanomen] 52 in w h ic h the o rig in s o f the
present co u ld be fo un d. B e n ja m in has b orro w e d the te rm u r-
phe no m e no n fro m G oethe’ s w ritin g s on the m o rp h o lo g y o f n atu re .
G oethe observed th a t whereas in the science o f physics o r c h e m is try
the o b je ct o f know ledge was a co g n itive a b stra ctio n co n s titu te d b y
the subject, in b io lo g ic a l science i t was perceived im m e d ia te ly , in
the a ct o f “ irre d u c ib le o b se rv a tio n .” 53 T h e objective law s and
re g u la ritie s o f liv in g organism s w ere g ra p h ic a lly v is ib le in th e ir
s tru c tu ra l fo rm s. G oethe believed the a rc h e ty p a l u r-fo rm s o f these
stru c tu re s revealed the essence o f b io lo g ic a l life , and m oreover, th a t
th e y existed e m p iric a lly , as one p la n t o r a n im a l am ong others, p ro ­
v id in g concrete m a te ria liz a tio n s o f the P la to n ic ideas. I n 1918,
B e n ja m in w ro te th a t w h a t G oethe called u r-p h e n o m o n a w ere n o t
sym bols in the sense o f p oe tic analogies, b u t, ra th e r, “ ide al sym ­
bols” in w h ic h the ide al essences o f w h ic h P la to spoke appeared in
sensual fo rm s .54 G eorg S im m e l in his 1913 s tu d y o f G oethe de­
scribed the concept in d e ta il:
72
Part I I

The ur-phenomenon— the emergence o f colors out o f ligh t and darkness,

the rhythm ic ebb and flow o f earth’s gravitation, the source o f clim atic
change, the development o f the plant organism out o f the leaf-shape, the
type o f vertebrates— is the purest, most typical case o f a relation, com­
bination, or development o f natural existence; in this respect, it is on the
one hand, something other than the commonplace phenomenon, which
tends to show this fundam ental form in muddied mixtures and diffrac­
tions. And yet on the other hand, it is still precisely something that
appears, perhaps given only as an intellectual spectacle, but at times
actually “ exhibited somewhere naked before the eyes o f the attentive
observer” [Goethe].55

S im m el p o in ts o u t the p h ilo s o p h ic a l significance o f th is co nce ptio n:

We norm ally imagine the general law o f objects as positioned somehow

outside o f the thing: partly objective, [. . . ] independent o f the accident o f
its material realization in time and space, partly subjective, [ . . . ] exclu­
sively a m atter o f thought and not present to our sensual energies that can
perceive only the particular, never the general. The concept o f the ur-
phenomenon wants to overcome this separation: I t is none other than the
timeless law w ithin a temporal observation; it is the general that reveals
itse lf immediately in a p articular form. Because such a thing exists, he
[Goethe] can say: “ The highest thing would be to grasp that everything
factual is already theory. The blue o f the sky reveals to us the fundamental
law o f chromatics. One would never search for anything behind the phe­
nomena; they themselves are the theory.” 56

S im m e l notes th a t th is “ gen ia l synthesis” 57 o f essence and ap ­

pearance produces “ a ve ry re m a rka b le s h ift in the p ro b le m o f
kn ow led ge ” :

Whereas as a rule every form o f Realism proceeds from theoretical knowledge

as prior and immediate, a ttrib u tin g to it the a bility to grasp objective
being, copy it, and express it fa ithfully, here the point o f emanation is
actually appropriated by the object. The merging together between it and
thoughts-in-knowledge is not an epistemological fact, but a metaphysical
one.58

I have cited S im m e l’s discussion a t le n g th because B e n ja m in was

d ire c tly influ en ced by it. A s an a fte r note to the Trauerspiel s tu d y , he
w ro te the fo llo w in g co m m e n t, w h ic h he la te r added to th e Passagen-
Werk m a te ria l:

In studying Simmel’s presentation o f Goethe’s concept o f truth,

{pa rticu larly his excellent elucidation o f the ur-phenomenon}, it became
very clear to me that my concept o f origins in the Trauerspiel book is a strict
73
3 N a tu ral H istory: Fossil

and compelling transfer o f this fundamental concept o f Goethe out o f the

realm o f nature and into that o f history.39

W h e n B e n ja m in spoke o f the tra n s ie n t h is to ric a l objects o f the

n in e te e n th c e n tu ry as u r-ph en om e na , he m ea nt th a t th ey e x h ib it
v is ib ly — and m e ta p h y s ic a lly as an “ a u th e n tic synthesis” 60— th e ir
d eve lo p m e n ta l, conceptual essence. T h e Passagen-Werk deals w ith
econom ic facts th a t are n o t a b stra ct causal factors, b u t u r-
phenom ena,

. . .] which they only become after they let develop out o f themselves
[. . . ] — unfold would be a better w ord— the series o f concrete historical
forms o f the arcades, ju s t as the leaflets unfold out o f itself the abundant
variety o f the empirical plant w orld.61

A concrete, fa ctu a l rep re sen ta tion o f those h is to ric a l images in

w h ic h c a p ita lis t-in d u s tria l econom ic form s co uld be seen in a p u r ­
er, e m b ry o n ic stage was to be the s tu ff and substance o f the w o rk .
F ro m the e a rly notes: “ F o rm u la : co n s tru c tio n o u t o f facts. C o n ­
s tru c tio n w ith in the com plete e lim in a tio n o f theory. W h a t o n ly
G oethe in his m o rp h o lo g ic a l w ritin g s a tte m p te d .” 62
I t was because o f B e n ja m in ’s b e lie f th a t m eta ph ysical essences
were im m e d ia te ly visib le w ith in the facts th a t A d o rn o was w a ry o f
the n o tio n o f “ d ia le c tic a l im ages.” H e to ok lite ra lly B e n ja m in ’s
c o n te n tio n : “ M e th o d o f th is w o rk: lite ra ry m ontage. I have n o th in g
to say, o n ly to sh ow ,” 63 and presum ed th a t a com pleted Passagen-
Werk w o u ld have consisted o f n o th in g m ore th an a “ shocklike m o n ­
tage o f the m a te ria l.” 64 A d o rn o w ro te to H o rk h e im e r in M a y 1949:

A t the beginning o f last year I finally received the Arcades m aterial h id ­

den in the Bibliotheque Nationale. D uring last summer I worked through
the m aterial in the most detailed fashion, and some problems then arose
[. . . ]. The most significant is the extraordinary restraint in the form ula­
tion o f theoretical thoughts in comparison w ith the enormous treasure o f
excerpts. This is explained in part by the (for me, already problematic)
idea which is formulated explicitly in one place, o f the work as pure “ mon­
tage,” that is, created from a juxtaposition o f quotations so that the theory
springs out o f it w itho ut having to be inserted as interpretation.63

A d o rn o ’s u n d e rs ta n d in g o f B e n ja m in ’s use o f m ontage is n o t the

o n ly possible one. R o lf T ie d e m a n n , e d ito r o f the Passagen-Werk,
rep orts:
74
Part I I

In later statements Adorno took the montage idea even more literally, and
insisted that Benjamin had nothing more in m ind than m ounting one
quotation next to another. In his many discussions w ith Adorno, the edi­
tor was, however, unable to convince him self that literary montage as
perceived by Benjamin as a method was identical to a simple montage o f
quotations. [. . . ] In place o f m ediating theory, the form o f commentary
was to have appeared, w hich he defined as “ interpretation out o f the par­
ticulars” [N2, 1]; interpretation and commentary are, however, not im ­
aginable in any other way than as representation. [. . . ] The quotations
are instead the material that Benjamin's representation was to employ.66

T h e evidence p o in ts in fa v o r o f T ie d e m a n n ’s rea din g. C ru c ia l is

B e n ja m in ’s u n d e rs ta n d in g o f “ m on tag e ” as a fo rm w h ic h , i f
a lre a d y v is ib le in the e a rly arcades, in the ka leidoscopic, fo rtu ito u s
ju x ta p o s itio n o f shop signs and w in d o w d isplays (fig u re 3.5), was
raised b y te chn olo gy d u rin g the course o f the ce n tu ry to the level o f
a conscious p rin c ip le o f co n stru ctio n . T h e kaleidoscope was its e lf
an in v e n tio n o f the n in e te e n th c e n tu ry .67 B u t it was preceded b y the
C hinese Puzzle (fig u re 3.6) w h ic h , because its ju x ta p o s e d elem ents
were n o t ra n d o m ly arran ge d b u t cohered a ro u n d a c e n tra l idea,
was the tru e u r-p h e n o m e n o n o f the p rin c ip le o f m ontage as a con­
structive p rin c ip le .68
T h e te ch n ica l p o te n tia l o f th is new p rin c ip le came to fr u itio n a t
the end o f the c e n tu ry w ith the b u ild in g o f the E iffel T o w e r (fig u re
3 .7), the e arliest a rc h ite c tu ra l fo rm o f the p rin c ip le o f m ontage:

Here the power o f visual plasticity is silenced in favor o f an extraordinary

tension o f intellectual energy which the energy o f the inorganic m aterial
brings to extremely small, extremely effective forms, binding them w ith
one another in the most effective fashion [. . .] Every one o f the 12,000
metal pieces is determined precisely to the m illim eter, [as is] every one o f
the 2l/z m illio n rivets [ . . . ] 69

I t is in th is same sense th a t we sh ou ld u nd ersta nd B e n ja m in ’s o w n

p la n fo r the Passagen-Werk:

[. . . ] to erect the large constructions out o f the smallest architectural

segments that have been sharply and cuttingly manufactured. Indeed, to
discover the crystal o f the total event in the analysis o f the small, particu ­
la r moments. This means breaking w ith vulgar historical naturalism . T o
grasp the construction o f history as such. In the structure o f commentary
[Kommentarstruktur] .70
75__________________________

3 N a tu ra l H istory: Fossil

3.5 In te rio r, Passage du G rand Cerf, Paris (top).

3.6 “ Chinese Puzzle, or: T h e Latest Craze,” nineteenth century (bottom ).

76

Part I I

3.7 E xte rio r detail, Eiffel T o w e r, b u ilt b y G ustav Eiffel, 1889.

77
3 N a tu ral H istory: Fossil

In the Passagen-Werk, each o f these “ s m a ll, p a rtic u la r m om en ts’ '

was to be id e n tifie d as an u r-fo rm o f the present. B e n ja m in ’s com ­
m e n ta ry, in w h ic h those facts were em bedded, p ro v id e d the rive ts
th a t a llo w e d the fragm ents to cohere as the p h ilo s o p h ic a l re p re ­
se n ta tio n o f h is to ry as a “ to ta l e ven t.”
T h e language o f technology was new fo r B e n ja m in , b u t n o t the
co nce ptio n. In his e arly (1918) note on G oethe’s th eo ry o f u r-
phenom ena as P la to n ic “ ideal sym b o ls,” he ca utio ne d against
u n d e rs ta n d in g such sym bols as them selves the “ palace o f p h ilo s o ­
p h y ” ; ra th e r, the task o f the p h ilo so p h e r was “ to fill up the w alls o f
the palace to the p o in t w here the im ages appear to be the w a lls .” 71
In fra g m e n ta ry images the essences appear concretely, b u t it is the
p h ilo s o p h ic a l c o n stru ctio n th a t, even i f in v is ib le , gives s u p p o rt and
coherence to the w hole. W h e n B e n ja m in praised m ontage as p ro ­
gressive because it “ in te rru p ts the context in to w hich it is inserted,”
he was re fe rrin g to its d estructive , c ritic a l d im e n sio n (the o n ly one
th a t A d o rn o ’s observations recognize). B u t the task o f the Arcades
p ro je c t was to im p le m e n t as w e ll the co n stru ctive d im en sion o f
m ontage, as the o n ly fo rm in w h ic h m od ern p h ilo s o p h y could be
erected.
4
Mythic History: Fetish

W ith in m y th , the passage o f tim e takes the fo rm o f p re d e te rm in a ­

tio n . T h e course o f events is said to be predestined b y the gods,
w ritte n in the stars, spoken b y oracles, o r in scrib e d in sacred texts.
S tric tly speaking, m y th and h is to ry are in c o m p a tib le . T h e fo rm e r
dictates th a t because h u m a n beings are powerless to in te rfe re in the
w o rk in g s o f fate, n o th in g tr u ly new can happen, w h ile the concept
o f h is to ry im p lie s the p o s s ib ility o f h u m a n in flu e n ce u pon events,
and w ith it, the m o ra l and p o litic a l re s p o n s ib ility o f people as con­
scious agents to shape th e ir ow n destiny.
M y th s give answers to w h y the w o rld is as i t is w hen an e m p iric a l
cause and effect c a n n o t be seen, o r w hen i t ca nn ot be rem em bered.
A lth o u g h th ey satisfy the desire fe lt b y h u m a n beings fo r a
m e a n in g -fille d w o rld , i t is a t the h ig h p rice o f tu rn in g th a t w o rld
back u po n th em as inescapable fate. M y th ic tim e is, c le a rly , n o t
lim ite d to a p a rtic u la r discourse. Science as w e ll as th eo log y,
ra tio n a lis m as w e ll as s u p e rs titio n can c la im th a t events are in e x o r­
a b ly d e te rm in e d . N o r are m y th ic explan atio n s lim ite d to a p a rtic u ­
la r epoch. T h e y have th e ir (W estern) source in classical a n tiq u ity
and B ib lic a l n a rra tiv e . B u t th ey reappear in the m ost recent cosm o­
lo g ic a l speculations, fo r exam ple, the in te rp re ta tio n o f n u c le a r
.holocaust as the fu lfillm e n t o f B ib lic a l p ro p h e c y — a d e v ilis h
a tte m p t, fro m the c ritic a l perspective o f “ h is t o r y / ’ to th ro w the
re s p o n s ib ility o n to G o d fo r the te rrify in g s itu a tio n th a t h u m a n
beings have them selves created.
79_______________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

In te rp re ta tio n s o f n ucle a r w a r as d iv in e ly p re o rd a in e d deny the

p o s s ib ility o f h u m a n c o n tro l, and thus the p o s s ib ility o f h is to ry i t ­
self. B u t science can encourage a b lin d fa ith in techn olo gica l “ p ro ­
gress” th a t m ay be even m ore like ly than theological fatalism to
b rin g a b o u t the m y th ic A rm a g e d d o n . In b o th cases, the p o litic a l
p o in t is th a t w hen te m p o ra lity is conceived u n d e r the m y th ic sign
o f p re d e te rm in a tio n , people are convinced th a t the present course
o f events ca n n o t be resisted.
T h e Passagen-Werk is fu n d a m e n ta lly concerned w ith d e b u n k in g
m y th ic theories o f h is to ry w h a te ve r fo rm th e ir scenarios m ay
ta ke — in e v ita b le catastrophe no less th a n co ntin uo us im p ro v e ­
m en t. B u t B e n ja m in was m ost persisten t in his a tta ck against the
m y th o f a u to m a tic h is to ric a l progress. In his life tim e , at the ve ry
b rin k o f the n u cle a r age and the tw ilig h t o f te chn olo gica l innocence,
this m y th was s till la rg e ly unshaken, and B e n ja m in considered i t to
be the greatest p o litic a l danger. W hereas e a rlie r in te rp re te rs have
seen his pessim ism re g a rd in g the course o f h is to ry as a late ch arac­
te ris tic o f his th in k in g , co m in g as a response to the N a zi-S o vie t
N on -A g g re ssio n Pact o r the im p e n d in g w a r, the Passagen-Werk
makes it clear th a t i t was his lo n g -sta n d in g ( if in te n s ify in g )
c o n c e rn .1 T h e e arliest notes describe the p ro je c t’s a im : “ to d riv e
o u t a ny trace o f ‘d e ve lo p m e n t’ fro m the im age o f h is to ry ” 2; to o v e r­
come “ the ide o lo g y o f progress . . . in a ll its aspects.” 3 A p re -1 9 3 5
e n try elaborates:

I t can be considered one o f the methodological objectives o f this work to

demonstrate a historical m aterialism w ith in which the idea o f progress has
been annihilated. Precisely on this point historical materialism has every
reason to distinguish itse lf sharply from bourgeois mental habits. Its basic
principle is not progress, but actualization.4

I t is thus no su rp rise th a t w hen B e n ja m in deals d ire c tly w ith

D a rw in ia n theories o f social e v o lu tio n in the Passagen-Werk, i t is to
a tta c k the prem ise o f progressive deve lo pm e nt. H e criticize s the
“ d o c trin e o f n a tu ra l selection” because “ [ . . . ] it p o p u la riz e d the
n o tio n th a t progress was a u to m a tic . M o re o ve r, i t p ro m o te d the ex­
tension o f the concept o f progress to the e n tire re a lm o f h u m a n
a c tiv ity .” 5 B e n ja m in ’ s ow n id e a tio n a l co n ste lla tio n o f “ n a tu ra l h is ­
to ry ,” in co n tra st, presum es no h a p p y outcom e, and indeed, no
necessary social outcom e a t a ll.
80
Part I I

T h e re is n o th in g n a tu ra l a b o u t h is to ry ’s progression. B u t (on
th is B e n ja m in insisted) n a tu re does progress h is to ric a lly . T h e new
n a tu re o f in d u s try and te chn olo gy represents real progress a t the
level o f the means o f p ro d u c tio n — w h ile at the level o f the re la tio n s
o f p ro d u c tio n , class e x p lo ita tio n rem ains unchanged. H e re a gain, i t
is the co n fla tio n o f n a tu re and h is to ry th a t leads to e rro r: W hereas
social e vo lu tio n is a m y th w he n it id e n tifie s h is to ry ’s b a rb a ris m as
n a tu ra l, w hen in d u s tria l progress is taken as the p o in t o f d e p a rtu re ,
the m y th ic e rro r consists o f m is ta k in g advances in n a tu re fo r ad­
vances in h is to ry itself.
B e n ja m in ’s late (1940) te xt, Uber den B e g riff der Geschichte (k n o w n
as the Theses on H is to ry ), argues th a t the e q u a tio n o f te ch n o lo g ica l
w ith h is to ric a l progress had led the G e rm a n w o rk in g class to set the
w ro n g p o litic a l goals:

I t regarded technological development as the direction o f those waters

through which it thought itself to be moving. From there it was but a step
to the illusion that factory work, which was a characteristic o f technical
progress, was itself a political accom plishm ent. . . [bypassing] the ques­
tion o f how . . . [the factory’s] products were to benefit the workers while
still not being at their disposal. I t acknowledges only progress in the mas­
tery o f nature, not the retrogression o f society.6

O rig in a lly , the idea o f progress was the sta nd ard by w h ic h E n lig h t­
enm ent th in ke rs ju d g e d h is to ry and fo u n d it la c k in g .7 I t is o n ly
w hen “ progress becomes the sign ature o f the course o f h is to ry in its
to ta lity ” th a t th is concept is id e n tifie d w ith “ u n c ritic a l assum ptions
o f a c tu a lity ra th e r th a n w ith a c ritic a l p o sitio n o f q u e s tio n in g .” 8
B e n ja m in searches o u t the o rig in s o f th is m istake n id e n tity . In
q u ite co n ve n tio n a l n e o -M a rx is t term s, he claim s th a t the concept o f
progress fo rfeite d its c ritic a l p o w e r w hen “ the bourgeoisie con­
quered its p ow er p osition s in the n in etee nth c e n tu ry .” 9 B u t q u ite
u n c o n v e n tio n a lly , he a tte m p ts to d o cu m e n t th is c la im v is u a lly , in
term s o f the p h ysica l tra n s fo rm a tio n o f the c ity o f Paris.

I n the e ighteenth century' the bourgeois E n lig h te n m e n t challenged

the th eo log ica l p o s itio n th a t the heavenly and e a rth ly cities w ere
c o n tra d ic to ry extrem es, one fu ll o f sin and suffering, the o th e r a
place o f re d e m p tio n and e te rn a l bliss. I t called on h u m a n beings to
81_______________________
4 M y th ic H isto ry: Fetish

use th e ir o w n , G o d-give n reason to create the “ h ea ven ly” c ity here

and n ow , and as an e a rth ly paradise, m a te ria l happiness was to be
a basic co m p on en t o f its co n stru ctio n . T h e in d u s tria l re v o lu tio n
seemed to m ake possible th is p ra c tic a l re a liz a tio n o f paradise. In
the n in e te e n th ce n tu ry, c a p ita l cities th ro u g h o u t E u rop e, and u lt i­
m a te ly th ro u g h o u t the w o rld , w ere d ra m a tic a lly tra n sfo rm e d in to
g litte r in g showcases, d is p la y in g the prom ise o f the new in d u s try
and te chn olo gy fo r a h e a ven -o n-e arth — and no c ity g litte re d m ore
b r illia n tly th a n Paris. T h o m a s A p p le to n , a B o sto nia n whose life
spanned the n in etee nth ce n tu ry, ca ug ht b o th the o ld and new con­
ce p tio n in a sentence: “ ‘good A m e rica n s, w hen they die, go to
P a ris .’ ” 10 So le g e n d a ry11 was the “ concrete im a ge ry o f bro ad , tree-
lin e d b ou le vard s, the shops, cafes, and theatres, the good food and
w in e o f th is e a rth ly c ity ” th a t i t “ m ig h t easily eclipse a nebulous
v is io n o f celestial p ea rly gates and golden s ta irs .” 12
U rb a n b rillia n c e and lu x u ry w ere n o t new in h is to ry , b u t secular,
p u b lic access to them was. T h e sp le n d o r o f the m od ern c ity could
be experienced by everyone w ho stro lle d its boulevards and parks,
o r v is ite d its d e p a rtm e n t stores, m useum s, a rt galleries, and n a tio n ­
al m o n u m e n ts. Paris, a “ looking-glass c ity ,” 13 dazzled the cro w d ,
b u t a t the same tim e deceived it. T h e C ity o f L ig h t, it erased n ig h t’s
darkness— firs t w ith gas lan te rn s, then w ith e le c tric ity , then neon
lig h ts — in the space o f a c e n tu ry .14 T h e C ity o f M ir r o r s — in w h ic h
the c ro w d its e lf became a spectacle— it reflected the im age o f peo­
ple as consum ers ra th e r th a n producers, keeping the class rela tio n s
o f p ro d u c tio n v ir tu a lly in v is ib le on the lo o k in g glass’ o th e r side.
B e nja m in described the spectacle o f Paris as a “ phantasm agoria”
— a m a g ic -la n te rn show o f o p tic a l illu s io n s , ra p id ly c h an ging size
and b le n d in g in to one another. M a r x had used the te rm “ p ha n ta s­
m a g o ria ” to refe r to the deceptive appearances o f co m m od ities as
“ fetishes” in the m arketplace. T h e Passagen-Werk entries cite the
re le v a n t passages fro m C apital on the fetish ch a ra cte r o f co m m o d ­
ities, d e sc rib in g how exchange va lu e obfuscates the source o f the
va lu e o f co m m o d itie s in p ro d u c tiv e la b o r.15 B u t fo r B e n ja m in ,
whose p o in t o f d e p a rtu re was a p h ilo s o p h y o f h is to ric a l experience
ra th e r th a n an econom ic analysis o f ca p ita l, the key to the new
u rb a n p h a n ta sm a g o ria was n o t so m uch the c o m m o d ity -in -th e -
m a rk e t as the c o m m o d ity -o n -d is p la y , w here exchange value no less
th a n use va lu e lost p ra c tic a l m ea nin g, and p u re ly rep re sen ta tion al
82_____
P a rt I I

va lu e came to the fore. E v e ry th in g desirable, fro m sex to social

status, co uld be tra n sfo rm e d in to co m m od ities as fetishes-on-
d is p la y th a t held the cro w d e n th ra lle d even w he n p ersonal posses­
sion was fa r beyond th e ir reach. In d e e d , an u n a tta in a b ly h ig h p ric e
tag o n ly enhanced a c o m m o d ity ’s s ym b o lic value. M o re o v e r, w hen
newness became a fetish, h is to ry its e lf became a m a n ife s ta tio n o f
the c o m m o d ity fo rm .

Panoram as (fig u re 4.1) w ere a co m m on a ttra c tio n in the arcades,

p ro v id in g sw eeping view s th a t u n ro lle d before the spectators, g iv ­
in g them the illu s io n o f m o v in g th ro u g h the w o rld a t an accelerated
rate. T h e experience corresponded to th a t o f m o v in g a lo n g a street
o f c o m m o d ity d isp la y w in d o w s. W h a t fo llo w s in this section is a
“ p a n o ra m ic ” to u r o f the u r-fo rm s o f the p h a n ta s m a g o ria o f p ro ­
gress w h ich B enjam in unearthed in his research. N o t o nly does this
a llo w us to cover a good deal o f Passagen-Werk g ro u n d in a s h o rt
space. B y re p lic a tin g the p rin c ip le o f p a n o ra m ic rep re se n ta tio n , it

4.1 Viewers at a Panorama.

83_______________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

provides a sense o f th a t c o n stru ctio n o f h is to ry w h ic h B e n ja m in ’s

ow n, d ia le c tic a lly constructed images were designed to in te rru p t.

A rcades

T h e arcades were “ the o rig in a l tem p le o f c o m m o d ity c a p ita lis m ” 16:

“ A rca d e s— th e y beam ed o u t o nto the Paris o f the Second E m p ire
lik e fa iry g ro tto e s.” 17 C o n stru cte d lik e a ch u rc h in the shape o f a
cross (in o rd er, p ra g m a tic a lly , to connect w ith a ll fo u r s u rro u n d in g
streets), these p riv a te ly owned, p u b lic ly traversed passages d is­
pla yed co m m o d itie s in w in d o w showcases lik e icons in niches. T h e
v e ry p ro fan e pleasure houses fo u n d there tem p te d passersby w ith
g a s tro n o m ica l perfections, in to x ic a tin g d rin k s , w e a lth w ith o u t
la b o r a t the ro u le tte w heel, g aiety in the v a u d e v ille theaters, and, in
the firs t-flo o r galleries, tra n sp o rts o f sexual pleasure sold by a
heavenly host o f fa sh io n a b ly dressed ladies o f the n ig h t: “ T h e w in ­
dows in the u p p e r flo o r o f the Passages are galleries in w h ic h angels
are n esting; they are called sw a llo w s.” 18

Angela
one flig h t up on the rig h t19

D u rin g the Second E m p ire o f N ap ole on I I I , the u rb a n p h a n ta sm a ­

g o ria b u rs t o u t o f the n a rro w confines o f the o rig in a l arcades, d is­
s e m in a tin g th ro u g h o u t Paris, w here c o m m o d ity displays achieved
ever g ra n d e r, ever m ore p re ten tio us form s. T h e Passages “ are the
precursors o f the d e p a rtm e n t stores.” 20 T h e p h a n ta sm a g o ria o f d is­
p la y reached its apogee in the in te rn a tio n a l expositions.

W o rld E x p o s itio n s

T h e fir s t w o rld e xp o sitio n was held in L o n d o n in 1851. Its fam ous

C ry s ta l Palace was constructed o u t o f the same iro n and glass th a t
o rig in a lly had been used in the Passages, b u t m ore d a rin g ly , in
m o n u m e n ta l p ro p o rtio n s .21 E n tire trees w ere covered over by the
o n e -h u n d re d -tw e lv e -fo o t roof. In d u s tr ia l p ro d u cts were disp laye d
lik e a rtw o rk s , v y in g w ith o rn a m e n ta l gardens, statues, and fo u n ­
ta ins fo r the p u b lic ’s a tte n tio n . T h e e xpo sitio n was described b y
c o nte m p o ra rie s as “ ‘in c o m p a ra b ly fa iry lik e .’ ” 22 T h e C ry s ta l
Palace b le nded to ge th er o ld n a tu re and new n a tu re — palm s as w e ll
84

Part I I

4.2 C rystal Palace, London , 1851

85_______________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

as p um ps and p iston s— in a fantasy w o rld th a t entered the im ­

a g in a tio n o f an e n tire gen eratio n o f Europeans. I n 1900, J u liu s
Lessing w ro te :

I remember from my own childhood years how the news o f the Crystal
Palace reached over into Germany, how, in remote provincial towns, pic­
tures o f it were hung on the walls o f bourgeois rooms. A ll that we im ­
agined from old fairy tales o f princesses in a glass casket, o f queens and
elves who lived in crystal houses, seemed to us to be embodied in it
[...].* >

W h ile n o t the place o f the firs t in te rn a tio n a l e xpo sitio n, Paris was
host to some o f the grandest. Its e arlie st24 to o k place in 1855 u n d e r
a “ ‘ m on strou s glass ro o f,’ ” 25 and “ ‘ a ll E u ro p e was on the m ove to
vie w the w ares’ .” 26 T h e s tru c tu re b u ilt fo r the next Paris fa ir in
1867 was co m p ared to the C olosseum : “ ‘ I t looked as i f there were
before yo u a m o n u m e n t b u ilt on a n o th e r p la n e t, J u p ite r o r S a tu rn ,
in a taste we do n o t kn o w , and in colors to w h ic h o u r eyes are n o t
yet accusto m e d .’ ” 27 Subsequent fa irs in 1889 and 1900 le ft p e rm a ­
n e n t traces on the c ity landscape: the G ra n d Palais, T ro c a d e ro , and
P a ris ’ h a llm a rk , the E iffe l T o w e r.28 T h e e xpo sitio ns’ d isp lays were
com pared b y S ig frie d G ie d io n to Gesamtkunstwerke29 (to ta l w orks o f
a rt). T h e reason was precisely th e ir p h a n ta sm a g o ric q u a lity , a
b le nd o f m ach in e technologies and a rt g alleries, m ilita r y cannons
and fashion costum es, business and pleasure, synthesized in to one
d a z z lin g v is u a l experience.
T h e in te rn a tio n a l fa irs were the o rig in s o f the “ pleasure in d u s try
[ Vergnugungsindustrie], ’ ’ w h ic h

[. . . ] refined and m ultiplied the varieties o f reactive behavior o f the

masses. I t thereby prepares the masses for adapting to advertisements.
The connection between the advertising industry and world expositions is
thus well-founded.30

A t the fa irs the crow ds were co n d itio n e d to the p rin c ip le o f a d ve r­

tisem ents: “ L o o k , b u t d o n ’ t to u c h ,” 31 and ta u g h t to derive pleasure
fro m the spectacle alone.
W id e spans o f glass w indow 's o rig in a te d in the arcades, as d id
w in d o w s h o p p in g as the a c tiv ity o f the fla n e u r. B u t here d is p la y
was n o t a fin a n c ia l end in itself. T h e shops fu ll o f “ n ove ltie s” and
the pleasure establishm ents depended on a p u b lic clientele o f the
w e ll-to -d o . A t w o r ld ’s fa irs, in co ntrast, the com m erce in co m m od -
86____
Part I I

ities was n o t m ore s ig n ific a n t th a n th e ir p h a n ta s m a g o ric fu n c tio n

as “ fo lk fe stiva ls” o f c a p ita lis m 32 w h e re b y mass e n te rta in m e n t its e lf
became b ig business.33 T h e re w ere e ig h ty th ou san d e x h ib ito rs at
P a ris ’ 1855 fa ir.34 In 1867, the fa ir ’s fifteen m illio n v is ito rs 35 in ­
cluded fo u r h u n d re d th ou san d F rench w orkers to w h o m free tickets
had been d is trib u te d , w h ile fo re ign w orkers w ere housed a t F re n ch
g o v e rn m e n t expense.36 P ro le ta ria n s w ere encouraged b y the au ­
th o ritie s to m ake the “ p ilg rim a g e ” to these shrines o f in d u s try , to
v ie w on d is p la y the w onders th a t th e ir ow n class had p ro du ced b u t
co uld n o t a ffo rd to o w n , o r to m a rve l a t m achines th a t w o u ld d is ­
place th e m .37

P hantasm agoria o f P o litic s

T h e Passagen-Werk is fu n d a m e n ta lly concerned w ith the effect o f the

fa irs on w o rkers a nd w orking -cla ss o rg a n iz a tio n : T h re e d iffe re n t
w o rk e rs ’ delegations w ere sent to L o n d o n in 1851: “ N on e o f th e m
accom plishe d a n y th in g o f significance. T w o w ere o ffic ia l [sent by
the F re n ch and Paris g ove rn m e n ts]; the p riv a te one came w ith sub­
s id iz in g fro m the press [ . . . ] . T h e w orkers had no in flu e n ce on
p u ttin g these delegations to g e th e r.” 38
I t has been cla im e d th a t the w o rld expositions w ere the b ir th ­
place o f the In te rn a tio n a l W o rk in g m a n ’s A sso cia tio n , because they
p ro v id e d th e o p p o rtu n ity fo r w orkers fro m d iffe re n t n a tio n s to m eet
and discuss co m m on interests.39 B u t despite the in itia l fears o f
those in p o w e r,40 the fa irs proved to have q u ite the c o n tra ry effect.
A p h a n ta sm a g o ria o f p o litic s had its source in the w o rld e xpo sitio ns
no less th a n a p h a n ta sm a g o ria o f m erchandise, w h e re in in d u s try
and te ch n o lo g y w ere presented as m y th ic pow ers capable o f p ro ­
d u c in g o u t o f them selves a fu tu re w o rld o f peace, class h a rm o n y ,
a nd a bundance. T h e message o f the w o rld e x h ib itio n s as fa iry la n d s
was the p ro m ise o f social progress fo r the masses w ith o u t re v o lu ­
tio n . In d e e d , the fa irs denied the ve ry existence o f class a n ta ­
gonism s.41 Even w hen w orkers were p e rm itte d to elect th e ir ow n
d e leg atio n to th e m ,42 a n y p o te n tia lly re v o lu tio n a ry consequences o f
such a p ro le ta ria n assem bly was co-opted. B e n ja m in cites D a v id
R ia za n o v, S oviet e d ito r o f the com plete w orks o f M a r x and Engels
(in w h ic h M a r x ’s e a rly w ritin g s firs t appeared):
87_______________________
4 M y th ic H isto ry: Fetish

“ The interests o f industry . . . were placed in the foreground, and the

necessity o f an understanding between the workers and industrialists was
heavily emphasized as the only means whereby the bad situation o f the
workers could be improved . . . We cannot consider . . . this congrega­
tion as the birthplace o f the IW A [International W orkingm an’s Associa­
tion]. This is a legend . . . .” 43

T h e R ussian M a rx is t George P lekhanov believed th a t w o rld ex­

positions co u ld teach a ve ry d iffe re n t lesson. W r itin g a fte r the 1889
P arisian E x p o s itio n th a t, s ig n ific a n tly , celebrated the ce nte nn ial o f
the F re n ch R e vo lu tio n , he expressed o p tim is m as to its progressive
effect:

[. . . “ I ] t was as i f the French bourgeoisie had been out to prove inten­

tionally to the proletariat, before its very eyes, the economic possibility
and necessity o f a social revolution. The world exposition gave this class
an excellent idea o f the previously unheard o f levels o f development o f the
means o f production that have been attained by all civilized countries,
and that have far transcended the wildest fantasies o f Utopians o f the past
century . . . This same exposition demonstrated further that the modern
development o f productive powers, given the anarchy presently reigning
in production, must necessarily lead to industrial crises that are evermore
intensive and thus evermore destructive in their effects on the workings o f
the world economy.” 44

Such a v ie w was m ore w is h fu l th in k in g th an fact, as the h is to ric a l

lo g ic o f w o rld expositions was the reverse: T h e w id e r the gap be­
tween progress in deve lo pin g the means o f p ro d u c tio n and “ a n a r­
c h y ” (crisis and u n e m p lo ym e n t) in the w o rld econom y, the m ore
these c a p ita lis t fo lk festivals were needed to p erp e tra te the m y th o f
a u to m a tic h is to ric a l progress in o rd e r to p re ve n t the p ro le ta ria t
fro m d e riv in g ju s t such a re v o lu tio n a ry lesson.

N a tio n a l P rogress on D is p la y

In the late nin etee nth c e n tu ry, the w o rld expositions thus took on
an a d d itio n a l m eaning. N o t o n ly d id they p ro v id e a u to p ia n fa iry ­
lan d th a t evoked the w o n d e r o f the masses. Each successive exposi­
tio n was called upon to give vis ib le “ p r o o f ’ o f h is to ric a l progress
to w a rd the re a liz a tio n o f these u to p ia n goals, by being m ore
m o n u m e n ta l, m ore sp ecta cula r th a n the last (fig u re 4.343). T h e
o rig in a l exposition was purely a business venture, com m itted to
88_____
Part I I

4.3 Paris E xposition, 1900, photo by E m ile Zola.

A Profound F a ith in the F u ture

W hatever the m agnificence o f past expositions, they must o f necessity be eclipsed by the new
expositions tha t m ark the pa th open to h u m anity, and sum m arize its successive conquests.
T h is is w hat makes for the success o f these periodic festivals o f indu stry; it is the p rin c ip a l
reason for the pow erful a ttra c tio n tha t they exercise on the masses. T h e expositions are n o t
only days o f leisure and gaiety in the m idst o f the toils o f the people. T h ey appear, at long
intervals, as the sum m its fro m w hich we measure the course we have travelled. M a n k in d
goes out from them com forted, fu ll o f courage and anim ated w ith profound fa ith in the
future. T h is faith , once the exclusive possession o f a few noble spirits o f the last century today
gains ground more and more; it is the com mon religion o f modern times, a fertile cult, in
w hich the universal expositions take place as majestic and useful ceremonies; as necessary
dem onstrations fo r the existence o f a nation tha t is industrious and anim ated by an irre sisti­
ble need fo r expansion; as enterprises th a t prove themselves less by the m a terial benefits o f
a ll kinds that flow from them, than by the pow erful im petus they give to the hum an s p irit.
[T h e 1900 exposition. . .] w ill be the end o f a century o f stupendous soaring o f science and
the economy; it w ill also be the threshold o f an era, the grandeur o f w hich experts and
philosophers are prophesizing, and the re ality o f w hich, w ith o u t doubt, w ill surpass the
dreams o f ou r im agination.
89______________________
4 M y th ic H isto ry: Fetish

laissez-faire p rin c ip le s o f trade. B u t by 1900, governm ents had g o t­

ten in v o lv e d to the p o in t w here they were h a rd ly d is tin g u is h a b le
fro m entrepreneurs them selves.46 As p a rt o f the new im p e ria lis m ,
“ n a tio n a l” p a vilio n s p ro m o te d n a tio n a l g ra n d e u r, tra n s fo rm in g
p a trio tis m its e lf in to a c o m m o d ity -o n -d is p la y . A n d the state be­
came a custom er: W o rld fa irs claim ed to p ro m o te w o rld peace,
w h ile d is p la y in g fo r g o ve rn m e n t purchase the latest weapons o f
w a r.47

U rb a n ism

T h e role o f the state in co n s tru c tin g the m od ern p h a n ta sm a g o ria

was n o t lim ite d to w o rld fa irs. B e n ja m in deals c e n tra lly w ith the
new u rb a n is m financed by the state, w h ic h was contem poraneous
w ith the fa irs ,48 and w h ic h in P aris was the obsessive o ccu p a tio n o f
N ap ole on I l l ’s m in is te r, B a ron H a u ssm a n n .49 T h e phanta sm ag o ­
ric illusions fostered by this “ a rtist o f d e m o litio n ” 50 figured heavily
in the m y th ic im a g e ry o f h is to ric a l progress, and fu n c tio n e d as a
m o n u m e n t to the state’s role in a chievin g it. As a classic exam ple o f
re ific a tio n , u rb a n “ re n e w a l” p rojects a tte m p te d to create social
u to p ia by ch an ging the a rra n g e m e n t o f b u ild in g s and streets—
objects in space— w h ile le a vin g social re la tio n sh ip s in ta c t. U n d e r
H au ssm a n n, schools and h ospitals were b u ilt, and a ir and lig h t
were b ro u g h t in to the c ity ,51 b u t class antagonism s w ere thereby
covered up, n o t e lim in a te d .
H a u s s m a n n ’s slum “ clearance” s im p ly broke up w orking -cla ss
neigh bo rho od s and m oved the eyesores and h ea lth hazards o f
p o v e rty o u t o f ce n tra l Paris and in to the su b u rb s.52 H is system o f
p u b lic p arks and “ pleasure g ro u n d s ” p ro vid e d the illu s io n o f social
e q u a lity ,53 w h ile b e h in d the scenes his b u ild in g projects in itia te d a
boom o f real estate sp ecu la tion w he re b y the g o ve rn m e n t expanded
the p riv a te coffers o f c a p ita lists w ith p u b lic fu n d s .54 R ailw ays pene­
tra te d to the h ea rt o f Paris, and ra ilro a d stations took over the fu n c ­
tio n o f c ity gates.55 T h e d e m o litio n o f Paris occurred on a massive
scale, as d e stru ctive to the o ld Paris as any in v a d in g a rm y m ig h t
have been.56 T h e u rb a n “ perspectives” 57 w h ic h H au ssm a n n
created fro m w id e boulevards, lin e d w ith u n ifo rm b u ild in g facades
th a t seemed to stretch to in fin ity and p u n ctu a te d b y n a tio n a l
m on u m e n ts, w ere in te n d e d to give the fragm ented c ity an appear-
90
Part I I

ance o f coherence. In fa ct the p la n , based on a p o litic s o f im p e ria l

c e n tra liz a tio n , was a to ta lita ria n aesthetics, in th a t i t caused “ ‘ the
repression o f every in d iv id u a lis tic p a rt, every auto no m ou s d evelop­
m e n t’ ” o f the c ity ,58 c re a tin g an a rtific ia l c ity w here the P a risia n
[ . . . ] no lo n g e r feels a t h o m e .’ ” 59
As w ith the w o rld fa irs, the Passagen-WerJCs concern is w ith the
p o litic a l effects o f u rb a n is m in u n d e rm in in g the re v o lu tio n a ry
p o te n tia l o f the w o rk in g class:

The true goal o f Haussmann’s works was the securing o f the city against
civil w ar [ . . . ] . The w idth o f the avenues was to p ro hib it the erection [o f
street barricades], and new streets were to provide the shortest routes
between the barracks and the working-class sections. Contemporaries
christened the undertaking “ strategic beautification.” 60

H a u s s m a n n ’s “ s tra te g ic b e a u tific a tio n ” is the u r-fo rm o f the c u l­

tu re o f m o d e m sta tism .

P rogress D e ifie d

I n 1855, the ye ar o f the firs t Paris E xp o s itio n , V ic to r H u g o , “ ‘ the

m a n o f th e n in e te e n th ce n tu ry as V o lta ire h ad been m an o f the
e ig h te e n th ’ ,” 61 announced: “ ‘ Progress is the footstep o f G od
h im s e lf’ .” 62 Progress became a re lig io n in the n in e te e n th c e n tu ry ,
w o rld e xpo sitio ns its h o ly shrines, co m m od ities its c u lt objects, and
H a u s s m a n n ’s “ n e w ” Paris its V a tic a n C ity . T h e S a in t-S im o n ia n s
w ere the se lf-p ro cla im e d , secular priests o f th is new re lig io n , w r it ­
in g poems o f praise to in d u s try ’s advances, and d is trib u tin g th e ir
tracts b y the m illio n s (18,000,000 p rin te d pages betw een 1830
and 1832).63 I n these m ass-produced, low -co st p u b lic a tio n s , the
g re at e n tre p re n u ria l enterprises, in c lu d in g w o rld e xpositions, re ­
ceived th e ir s a n c tific a tio n . T h e y im b u e d ra ilro a d c o n s tru c tio n w ith
a sense o f m ission. B e n ja m in cited the S a in t-S im o n ia n M ic h e l
C h e v a lie r:

“ One can compare the zeal and enthusiasm which civilized nations today
give to the construction o f railroads w ith that which occurred some cen­
turies ago w ith the erection o f churches . . . Indeed, it can be demon­
strated that the word religion comes from rdigare [to bind together]. . .,
the railroads have more affinity than one would have thought w ith the
s p irit o f religion. There has never existed an instrum ent w ith so much
power fo r . . . uniting peoples separated from one another.” 64
91__________________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

Such “ u n itin g ” o f peoples c o n trib u te d to the illu s io n th a t in d u s ­

tria lis m on its ow n was capable o f e lim in a tin g class d ivisio n s,
a c h ie vin g the com m on b ro th e r- and sisterhood th a t had tr a d i­
tio n a lly been re lig io n ’ s goal. In d e e d , the m ost decisive p o litic a l
c h a ra c te ris tic o f S a in t-S im o n ’s th e o ry was his conception o f w o rk ­
ers and ca p ita lists u n ite d in a single “ in d u s tria l class,” 65 and he
considered entrepreneurs e xploite d “ because they p a id in te re s t.” 66
B e n ja m in observed: “ T h e S a in t-S im o n ia n s had o n ly ve ry lim ite d
sym pathies fo r d em o cra cy” 67; a cco rd in g to th em : “ A ll social a n ta ­
gonism s dissolve in the fa iry tale th a t progres is the prospect o f the
ve ry n ear fu tu re .” 68

B ig g e r is B e tte r

R a ilro a d s w ere the referent, and progress the sign, as s p a tia l m ove­
m e n t became so w edded to the concept o f h is to ric a l m ove m e nt th a t
these co uld no lon ge r be d istin g u ish e d . B u t speed was n o t the o n ly
m e ta p h o r th a t to ok on a m y th ic id e n tity w ith progress. U n d e r con­
d itio n s o f c o m p e titiv e ca p ita lism , p u re num be rs, abundance, ex­
cess, m o n u m e n ta l size, and expansion entered in to th is sem antic
c o n s te lla tio n , and became “ progress’ ” ve ry effective adve rtise ­
m ent:

“ Thus not long ago the [store] called ‘Chaussee d ’A n tin ’ announced its
new inventory by the meter [. . . ]. In all, about eleven m illion meters o f
manufactured goods. The Tintamarre observed, after it recommended the
‘Chaussee d ’A n tin ’ to its readers as ‘the number one fashion house in the
world* and also the most ‘solid,’ that ‘the entire French railroad’ consisted
altogether o f not even ten thousand kilometers. This one store could there­
fore cover all the railways o f France like a tent w ith its materials, ‘which in
the summer heat would actually be quite pleasant.’ Three or four sim ilar
establishments published sim ilar measures o f length, so that w ith the
materials taken altogether, not only Paris . . . but the entire department
o f the Seine could be placed under a great weather-protecting roof, ‘which
once again, would be very pleasant in rainy weather’ [ . . . ].
“ One hears: ‘The V ille de Paris, the largest store in the capital,’ ‘the
Villes de France, the largest store in the Em pire,’ ‘The “ Chaussee d ’An-
tin ,” the largest store in Europe,’ ‘The Coin de Rue, the largest store in
the w orld.’ In the w orld! Then none larger on the whole earth; that must
be the lim it. O h, no! ‘The Magazins du Louvre’ still haven’t been con­
sidered, and these have the title, ‘the largest stores in the Universe.’ ” 69
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Part I I

E le p h a n tism perm eated fantasies o f state pow er as w ell:

“ I f one had to define in a word the new spirit that was going to preside
over the transformation o f Paris, one would call it ‘megalomania.* The
Emperor and his prefect [Haussmann] wished to make o f Paris the capital
not only o f France, but o f the w orld.” 70
“ Paris w ill become the world, and the universe w ill be Paris [. . . ]. Paris
w ill climb to the clouds, scale the heavens o f the heavens, make districts
for itself out o f the planets and the stars.” 71

C osm ic p ro p o rtio n s, m o n u m e n ta l s o lid a rity , and p a n o ra m ic p e r­

spectives were the characteristics o f the new urban phantasm agoria.
A ll o f its aspects— ra ilro a d stations, m useum s, w inte rg a rd en s,
sp o rt palaces, d e p a rtm e n t stores, e x h ib itio n halls, bou le vard s—
dw a rfed the o rig in a l arcades and eclipsed them . These once m a g i­
cal tcfa iry grottoes” th a t had spawned the phantasm agoria w ent in to
eclipse: T h e ir narrow ness appeared s tiflin g , th e ir perspectives
c la u stro p h o b ic, th e ir g a slig h t too d im .

Where in the new does the boundary run between reality and
appearance?72

H o w co uld th is p ha nta sm ag oria be seen through? H o w could the

m y th ic m etaphors o f progress th a t had perm eated p u b lic discourse
be unm asked and exposed as the m y s tific a tio n o f mass conscious­
ness, p a rtic u la rly w hen the b ig -c ity g litte r o f m o d e rn ity seemed to
offer m a te ria l p ro o f o f progress before one’s ve ry eyes? Searching
the h is to ric a l records fo r counterevidence, B e n ja m in used a ll the
sch o la rly im a g in a tio n a t his disposal to discover w ith in them co un ­
terim ages th a t rub b e d h a rsh ly against the g ra in o f the sem antics o f
progress, w ith its u nm e d ia te d id e n tific a tio n o f te chn olo gica l change
w ith social b e tte rm e n t, and its im a ge ry o f the in e v ita b le co m ing o f
a heaven-on-earth. W h e re M a r x h im s e lf had fa lle n u n d e r the spell
o f the discourse o f progress, id e n tify in g re vo lu tio n s as the “ loco m o ­
tives o f w o rld h is to ry ,” B e n ja m in countered: “ Perhaps it is to ta lly
d ifferen t. Perhaps re vo lu tio n s are the reaching o f h u m a n ity tra v e l­
in g in th is tra in fo r the em ergency b ra ke.” 73 W h e re the m egalom a­
n ia o f m o n u m e n ta l p ro p o rtio n s , o f “ bigger is b e tte r,” equated b o th
c a p ita lis t and im p e ria lis t expansion w ith the progressive course o f
93__________________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

h is to ry, B e n ja m in sought o u t the sm all, discarded objects, the o u t­

dated b u ild in g s and fashions w h ich , precisely as the “ tra s h ” o f h is­
to ry, were evidence o f its unprecedented m a te ria l d estru ctio n . A n d
w here the S aint-S im on ian s a p p ro p ria te d the discourse o f re lig io n
th a t s till had p o w e rfu l sem antic force in o rd e r to lend h is to ry le g i­
tim acy, B e n ja m in reversed the d ire c tio n o f this discourse from a
v in d ic a tio n o f the fo rw a rd course o f h is to ry to a ra d ic a l c ritiq u e o f
h is to ry w hen view ed w ith a b ackw ard gaze.
C on side r the p riz e -w in n in g design to rem odel the Porte M a illo t
(figu re 4.4). T h e contest (advertised as a concours d ’idees u n lik e ly to
lead to a ctu a l co n stru ctio n ) was sponsored by the c ity o f Paris in
1931. T h e d ra m a tic focus o f the w in n in g co m p ositio n (by B ig o t)
was a g ig a n tic w inged scu lp tu re , an “ angel o f v ic to ry ” cele bra ting
the h is to ry o f French m ilita ry triu m p h s , to be erected at the R ond
P o in t de la Defense. A classical fig ure, she faces the fu tu re w ith
calm confidence. H e r m o n u m e n ta l g ra n d e u r dw arfs the crow d th a t
feels its insig nifican ce as a consequence, its c h ild lik e dependence on
forces greater th a n itse lf, given the cosm ic scale o f w o rld events and
the destinies o f nations. W h a t could be m ore u n lik e this m o n u m e n t

4.4 Statue o f V ic to ry , proposed for the Rond P oint de la Defense, Bigot, 1931.
94

P a rt I I

4.5 “ Angelus N ovus,” Paul K lee, 1920.

9 5 _________________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

to m y th ic progress th an Paul K le e ’s p a in tin g , “ A ngelus N o v u s ”

(fig u re 4.5), in w h ich B e n ja m in found the “ A n ge l o f H is to ry ” per­
sonified, and w h ic h in re la tio n to the view e r retains h u m a n p ro p o r­
tions? B u t it is the ca ptio n th a t produces the c ritic a l force o f this
im age:

There is a picture by Klee called “ Angelus Novus.” An angel is presented

in it who looks as i f he were about to move away from something at which
he is staring. His eyes are wide open, mouth agape, wings spread. The
angel o f history must look like that. His face is turned toward the past.
Where a chain o f events appears to us, he sees one single catastrophe which
relentlessly piles wreckage upon wreckage, and hurls them before his feet.
[. . . ]. The storm [from Paradise] drives him irresistibly into the future to
which his back is turned, while the pile o f debris before him grows toward
the sky. T ha t which we call progress is this storm.74

A c o n s tru c tio n o f h is to ry th a t looks backw ard , ra th e r th a n fo rw a rd ,

at the destruction o f m aterial nature as it has actually taken place, p ro ­
vides dialectical contrast to the fu tu ris t m yth o f historical progress
(w hich can o nly be sustained by forgetting w h a t has happened).

D ust

T h e p ha n ta sm a g o ric u n d e rsta n d in g o f m o d e rn ity as a ch ain o f

events th a t leads w ith u nb ro ke n , h is to ric a l c o n tin u ity to the
re a liz a tio n o f social u to p ia , a “ heaven” o f class h a rm o n y and m ate ­
r ia l a bundance— th is conceptual co nste lla tio n blocked re v o lu tio n ­
a ry consciousness like an a stro log ical force. B e n ja m in focuses on
sm all, overlooked m otifs in the h is to ric a l sources th a t explode it.
W h e re the m y th im a gin ed the force o f m achines as a pow er d riv in g
h is to ry fo rw a rd , B e n ja m in provides m a te ria l evidence th a t h is to ry
has n o t budged. In deed, h is to ry stands so s till, it gathers dust. T h e
h is to ric a l docum ents attest to it. In 1859:

Return from the Courses de la Marche: “ The dust has surpassed all expecta­
tions. The elegant people back from the Marche are practically buried
under it, ju s t as at Pompeii; and they have to be disinterred, i f not w ith
pickaxes, then at least w ith a brush.” 75

D u s t settles over Paris, stirs, and settles a g a in .76 I t d rifts in to the

Passages and collects in th e ir corners77; i t catches in the velvet
drapes and u p h o lste ry o f bourgeois p a rlo rs 78; it clings to the h is to r-
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Part I I

ical w ax figures in the M usee G ra v in .79 T h e fashionable tra in s on

w om en ’s dresses sweep th ro u g h d u st.80 “ U n d e r L o u is -P h ilip p e
d ust even spreads its e lf over the re v o lu tio n s .” 81

F ra g ility

I f h is to ry has n o t budged, th is does n o t m ake Paris m ore secure.

O n the c o n tra ry , b e h in d the illu s io n o f perm anence th a t the
m o n u m e n ta l facades o f H a u ssm a n n ’s Paris sought to establish, the
c ity is frag ile . In de ed , the re m arkab le th in g is th a t “ ‘ Paris s till
exists.’ ” 82 T h e a b ility to ca ptu re th is fra g ility is w h a t B e n ja m in
a ppreciated in C harles M e y ro n ’ s in k sketches o f Paris, composed
on the eve o f H au ssm a n n ’s ca ta stro p h ic d e m o litio n s . T h e la tte r’s
“ m o d e rn iz a tio n ” o f Paris o b lite ra te d h is to ry by w ip in g o u t its
traces. M e y ro n ’s scenes, in co ntrast, captured the essentially fleet­
in g ch aracte r o f m odern h is to ry , and com m em orated the suffering
o f the liv in g by re co rd in g its traces:

A criterion for whether a city is modern: the absence o f memorials (“ New

York is a city w ithout memorials” — D oblin). M eyron made modern
memorials out o f tenement houses.83

T ra n sie n cy w ithout progress, a relentless p u rs u it o f “ n o v e lty ” th a t

b rin g s a bo ut n o th in g new in h is to ry — in m a k in g v is ib le the o u t­
lines o f this te m p o ra lity , B e n ja m in provides the d ire c t co un terim a ge
to an a p p ro a ch in g heaven-on-earth: “ M o d e rn ity , the tim e o f
H e ll.” 84 T h e im age o f H e ll is the d ia le ctica l antithesis o f the
n in eteenth c e n tu ry ’s dep ictio ns o f m od ern re a lity as a G o lde n Age,
and provides its ra d ic a l c ritiq u e . A note to the 1935 expose gives
this “ d ia le c tic a l schem a” :

H e ll— Golden Age. Keywords for H ell: Boredom, Gambling, Pauperism.

A canon o f this dialectic: Fashion. The Golden Age as catastrophe.83

B e n ja m in was n o t suggesting th a t the m y th o f progress be replaced

by a conservative o r n ih ilis tic vie w th a t h e llish re p e titio n is the
essence o f h is to ry in its e n tire ty. (H e critic iz e d the b e lie f in “ eterna l
recurrence” as its e lf “ u r-h is to ric a l, m y th ic a l th in k in g .” 86) O n the
c o n tra ry , the d ea dly repetitiveness o f tim e th a t is p a rt o f the
a rch aic, m y th ic im a g e ry o f H e ll describes w h a t is tr u ly m od ern and
novel a b o u t c o m m o d ity society. C onversely, n o v e lty is n o t la c k in g
97__________________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

in the a rchaic: “ T h e p unishm ents o f h ell are in every case the

newest th a t exists in this re a lm .” 87 T h e im age o f m o d e rn ity as the
tim e o f H e ll

[. . . ] deals not w ith the fact that “ always the same thing” happens (a
forteriori this is not about eternal recurrence) but the fact that on the face o f
that oversized head called earth precisely what is newest doesn’ t change;
that this “ newest” in all its pieces keeps remaining the same. I t constitutes
the eternity o f H ell and its sadistic craving for innovation. To determine
the totality o f features in which this “ m odernity” im prints itself would
mean to represent H ell.88

Fashion

In the im age o f H e ll as a c o n fig u ra tio n o f re p e titio n , n ove lty, and

death, B e n ja m in opened up to p h ilo so p h ica l u n d e rsta n d in g the
phenom enon o f fashion th a t is specific to c a p ita lis t m o d e rn ity .89 A
“ m etaphysics o f fa shio n ” was pla nn ed fo r the Passagen-Werk90 and
the e a rly notes describe along w h a t lines i t was to be conceived. N o t
o n ly is fashion the m odern “ measure o f tim e ” 91; it embodies the
changed re la tio n s h ip between subject and object th a t results fro m
the “ n ew ” n a tu re o f c o m m o d ity p ro d u c tio n . In fashion, the p h a n ­
tasm a go ria o f com m odities presses closest to the skin.
N o w c lo th in g is q u ite lite r a lly at the b o rd e rlin e between subject
and object, the in d iv id u a l and the cosmos. Its p o s itio n in g surely
accounts fo r its e m b le m atic significance th ro u g h o u t h is to ry . In the
M id d le Ages, the “ p ro p e r” a ttire was th a t w h ic h bore the im p r in t
o f the social order: C osm etics were a refle ctio n o f a d iv in e ly ordered
cosmos, and a sign o f one’s p o sitio n w ith in it . 92 O f course, class
p o s itio n was then as sta tic as the n atu re in w h ic h h um an beings
saw th e ir ow n lives reflected: A c c id e n t o f b ir th dete rm ine d one’s
social s itu a tio n ; the la tte r, in tu rn , d ete rm ine d one’s p ro b a b ilitie s o f
death. A t 'a tim e w hen such h is to ric a l m ed ia tio ns o f b io lo g y were
accepted as fate, styles in c lo th in g reinforced the social h ie ra rc h y
by re ite ra tin g it. A g a in s t this b ackg ro un d, the positive m om en t o f
m od ern fashion stands o u t clea rly. Its constant s triv in g fo r “ nove l­
ty ,” fo r separation fro m the given, ide ntifie s generatio na l cohorts,
whose dress sym bolizes an end to the dependency and n a tu ra l
d e te rm in a cy o f ch ild h o o d , and e n try in to th e ir ow n collective role
as h istorical actors. Interpreted affirm atively, m odem fashion is
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Part I I

irre v e re n t to w a rd tra d itio n , ce le bra tory o f y o u th ra th e r th a n social

class, and thus e m b le m a tic o f social change. T h e Passagen-Werk tells
us th a t “ fa sh io n ” spread to the lo w e r classes in the n in etee nth cen­
tu ry . 1844: “ ‘ cotton clo th replaces brocades, s a tin s . . .a n d soon,
thanks to the re v o lu tio n a ry s p irit [o f 1789], the a ttire o f the lo w e r
classes becomes m ore co m fo rta b le and m ore a ttra c tiv e to see.’ ” 93 A
“ ‘p le b ia n ch a ra cte r’ ” o f a ttire its e lf became fa shio na ble .94 F or
w om en sp ecifically, changes in fashion were a vis ib le in d ic a to r o f
new social freedom . B e n ja m in cites th is 1873 text:

“ The trium ph o f the bourgeoisie modifies female attire. Dress and hair
style become w id e r. . . the shoulders are broadened by m utton sleeves
[. . . I ] t wasn’t long before hoops came back into fashion and bouffant
skirts were made. Thus attired, women appeared destined for a sedentary
life inside the family, because their mode o f dress had nothing that gave
the idea o f movement or appeared to favor it. This turned about totally
w ith the arrival o f the Second Empire. The bonds o f the fam ily loosened,
an ever-growing luxury corrupted morals [. . .]. Dress for the woman
thus changed from head to fo o t. . . The hoop was drawn back and
brought together in an accentuated bustle. Everything possible was
developed to prevent the woman from sitting; everything that made it
difficult for her to walk was eliminated. She wore her hair and dressed as
i f to be seen from the side. Indeed, the profile is the silhouette o f a
person. . . who passes by, who escapes us.” 95

A t some tim es B e n ja m in describes fashions as p re d ic tiv e o f h is to ri­

cal change,96 b u t at others (in cre a sin g ly in the 1930s) he reads
fashion fo r an e x p la n a tio n as to w h y it has n o t.97 In the 1935 expose
B e n ja m in rem arks: “ Fashion prescribed the r itu a l by w h ic h the
fetish c o m m o d ity w ished to be w o rsh ip e d .” 98 T h a t r itu a l c o u ld n o t
have been m ore d is tin c t fro m those tra d itio n -b o u n d rites o f h o li­
days and seasonal celebrations by w h ic h the “ o ld ” n a tu re had been
revered, m a rk in g the re c u rre n t life cycles o f o rg a n ic n atu re . T h e
sp rin g rites o f fashion celebrated n o v e lty ra th e r th a n recurrence;
th ey re q u ire d , n o t rem em brance, b u t obliviousness to even the
m ost recent past. In the Hades o f G reek and R om an m y th o lo g y ,
the riv e r L eth e caused those w ho d ra n k o f its w aters to fo rg et th e ir
fo rm e r life. T h e effect on co llective h is to ric a l m em ory o f sa tisfyin g
the th irs t fo r n o ve lty th ro u g h fashion was n o t o the rw ise .99
“ Fashions are the m ed ica m en t th a t is to com pensate fo r the fa te fu l
effects o f fo rg e ttin g , on a collective scale.” 100
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4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

R eified in com m odities, the u to p ia n prom ise o f fa shio n ’s tra n ­

sitoriness undergoes a d ia le c tic a l reversal: T h e liv in g , h u m a n
ca pa city fo r change and in fin ite v a ria tio n becomes alienated, and
is affirm e d o n ly as a q u a lity o f the in o rg a n ic object. I n contrast,
the ideal fo r hum an subjects (urged in to rigorous conform ity to
fa shio n ’ s d ic ta te s )101 becomes the b io lo g ica l rig o r m o rtis o f eternal
y o u th . I t is fo r th is th a t the c o m m o d ity is w o rs h ip e d — in a ritu a l
th a t is, o f course, destined to fa il. V a le ry speaks o f the “ ‘ absurd
s u p e rstitio n o f the n ew .’ ” 102 B e n ja m in makes us see it, in revealing
the lo g ic o f m o d e rn ity as “ the tim e o f H e ll” :

How, namely, this time doesn’t want to know death, also how fashion
mocks death, how the acceleration of traffic, the tempo of communicating
information whereby newspaper editions supersede each other, aim pre­
cisely at the elim ination o f all sudden endings, and how death as an inci­
sion is connected w ith all straight courses o f divine tim e.103

S te rility

W o m a n is the ce ntral fig u re in B e n ja m in ’ s “ m etaphysics o f

fa sh io n ,” n o t o n ly because Paris was the ca p ita l o f specifically
fem ale fa shio ns,104 b u t because w om en ’s fe c u n d ity personifies the
c re a tiv ity o f the o ld natu re , the transiency o f w h ic h has its source in
life ra th e r th an death. W o m e n ’s p ro d u c tiv ity , o rg an ic in co ntrast to
the m ech an ical p ro d u c tiv ity o f n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry in d u s tria lis m ,
appears th re a te n in g to c a p ita lis t society, as M a lth u s argued at the
b e g in n in g o f the ce ntu ry, and as aesthetic style represented at its
end: “ T h e h ig h p o in t o f a te chn ical arran ge m en t o f the w o rld lies in
the liq u id a tio n o f fe cu n d ity. T h e ideal beauty o f Jugendstil is rep re ­
sented by the frig id w om an. Jugendstil sees in every w om an n o t
H ele na b u t O ly m p ia .” 105 B u t i f w o m a n ’ s fe c u n d ity threatens com ­
m o d ity society, the c u lt o f the new threatens her in tu rn . D ea th and
decay, no lo n g e r s im p ly a p a rt o f o rg an ic life, are th ro w n up at the
w om an as a special p u n ish m e n t or fate. H e r “ ‘co ntinuous effort to
be b e a u tifu l’ ” 106 is rem in isce n t o f the re p e titiv e p u n ish m e n t o f
H e ll. “ ‘ F ro m the weakness o f w om en ’s social p o s itio n ’ ” 107 arises
the e x tra o rd in a ry appeal to her o f fashion. B eing “ ‘everyone’s
c o n te m p o ra ry ’ ” 108 means never g ro w in g o ld ; always being
“ n e w s w o rth y ” — “ th a t is the m ost passionate and m ost secret satis-
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Part I I

4.6 “ Fashionable people represented in p u blic by the ir accoutrements” — G randville,

1844.

fa ction w h ic h fashion gives to w o m e n .” 109 B u t fashion does n o t

change the social re a lity th a t tran sfo rm ed w o m e n ’s b io lo g ic a l
potency in to a weakness in the firs t p la ce ,110 and sees even the liv ­
in g flo w e r as “ an em blem o f s in .” 111 W ith the sm allest
v a ria tio n s ,112 fashion covers up re a lity . L ik e H au s s m a n n ’s u rb a n
renew al, i t rearranges the given, m erely sym b o liz in g h is to ric a l
change, ra th e r th a n u shering i t in.
In the process o f d isp la cin g n a tu re ’s tran sien cy o nto co m m o d ­
ities, the life force o f se xu a lity is displaced there as w e ll. F o r w h a t is
i t th a t is desired? N o lo n g e r the h u m a n being: Sex appeal emanates
fro m the clothes th a t one wears (fig u re 4 .6 113). H u m a n ity is w h a t
yo u hang y o u r h a t on.
I n a m acabre in ve rsio n o f the u to p ia n dream o f a re c o n c ilia tio n
between h u m a n ity and n a tu re , fashion “ ‘invents an a rtific ia l
h u m a n ity .’ ” 114 C lothes m im ic org an ic n a tu re (sleeves resem ble
pen gu in w in g s 115; fr u it and flow ers appear as h a ir o rn a m e n ts 116;
fishbones decorate hats, and feathers appear n ot o n ly here, b u t on
evening p um ps, and u m b re lla s 117), whereas the liv in g , h u m a n b o d y
m im ics the in o rg a n ic w o rld (skin strives th ro u g h cosmetics to
m ________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

a tta in the co lo r o f rose ta ffe ta 118; c rin o lin e skirts tu rn w om en in to

“ tria n g le s ” o r “ X ’s,” 119 o r “ ‘w a lk in g bells’ ” ) . 120

Death

B ir th , w rite s B e n ja m in , is a “ n a tu ra l” c o n d itio n , death is a “ so­

c ia l” o n e .121 Fashion is the “ transcendence” [Aufhebung] o f the
fo rm e r as a new source o f newness; it “ transcends” the la tte r by
m a k in g the in o rg a n ic co m m o d ity its e lf the object o f hum an
d e sire .122 Fashion is the m ed iu m th a t “ lures [sex] ever deeper in to
the in o rg a n ic w o rld ” — the “ rea lm o f dead th in g s .” 123 I t is “ the
d ia le c tic a l sw itc h in g sta tio n between w o m a n and c o m m o d ity —
desire and dead b o d y.” 124 W ith its pow er to d ire c t lib id in a l desire
o n to in o rg a n ic n atu re , fashion connects co m m o d ity fe tishism w ith
th a t sexual fetishism ch a ra cte ristic o f m odern ero ticism , w h ic h
“ low ers the b a rrie rs between the org an ic and in o rg a n ic w o rld .” 125
J u s t as the m u ch -a d m ire d m a n n e q u in has detachable p a rts ,126 so
fashion encourages the fe tish istic fra g m e n ta tio n o f the liv in g
b o d y .127 T h e m odern w om an w ho allies h erse lf w ith fa sh io n ’s new ­
ness in a struggle against n a tu ra l decay represses her ow n p ro ­
d u c tive pow er, m im ics the m a n n e q u in ,128 and enters h is to ry as a
dead object, a “ g a ily decked-out corpse.” 129 Fashion “ p ro stitutes
the liv in g b od y to the in o rg a n ic w o rld ,” 130 a t the m om en t w hen
p ro s titu te s themselves begin to re ly on the co m m o d ity appeal o f
fashionable dress, se lling th e ir liv in g bodies as a th in g .131

For fashion was never anything but the parody o f the gaily decked-out
corpse, the provocation o f death through the woman, and (in between
noisy, canned slogans) the bitter, whispered tete-a-tete w ith decay. T hat is
fashion. For this reason she changes so rapidly, teasing death, already
becoming something else again, something new, as death looks about for
her in order to strike her down. She has given him tit for tat for a hundred
years. Now finally she is ready to leave the field. But on the shore o f a new
Lethe that rolls its asphalt stream through the arcades, he sets up the
armature o f prostitutes as trophy.132

A g in g p ro s titu te s w ho co lle ct in the arcades along w ith the o the r

o utd ated objects o f desire are clues to the tru th s o f fashion th a t,
tu rn in g the body in to a sexual c o m m o d ity, know s to escape from
death o n ly by m im ic k in g it.
102

Part I I

C h th o n ic P aris

In the rep re sen ta tion o f H e ll as the essence o f m odern society, the

Passagert-Werk exam ines, lite ra lly , the u n d e rg ro u n d o f Paris, its sys­
tems o f subterranean passageways. T h e catacom bs: In the M id d le
Ages, fo r a p rice, you could be taken d ow n in to them and show n
“ the d e vil in his h e llish m a je sty,” d u rin g the F re n ch R e v o lu tio n
clandestine news o f im p e n d in g re v o lt passed th ro u g h them unde­
tected, and “ s till today, one can pay tw o francs fo r an e n try tic k e t
to v is it th is m ost n ig h tlik e Paris, w h ic h is so m uch cheaper and less
dangerous th a n the w o rld above.” 133 T h e o ld stone quarries: I t is
b ette r n o t to w a n de r in th em w ith o u t a guide “ ‘i f one doesn’ t w a n t
to be m arooned and die o f h u n g e r.’ ” 134 T h e cave a t C ha te le t: p ris ­
oners were held in this “ ‘ to m b o f H e ll’ ” before b eing sent to the
g a lle ys.135 T h e u n d e rg ro u n d passages beneath the forts o f Paris,
“ ‘so extensive th ey could h old h a lf the p o p u la tio n o f P a ris,’ ” 136
were used to im p ris o n the in su rre ctio n ists o f J u n e 1848.137 T h e
Paris sewers: H au ssm a n n ’s engineering successes w ith the c ity ’ s
w a te r system led to the co m m en t th a t he was “ ‘m ore in s p ire d by
the gods o f the n e th e rw o rld th a n those on h ig h .’ ” 138 A n d fin a lly ,
P aris’ m ost m odern u n d e rw o rld , w h ic h evokes fo r B e n ja m in the
m ost ancient:

The metro, where evenings the lights glow red [. . . ] shows the way down
into the Hades o f names: Combat, Elysee, Georges V , Etienne Marcel,
Solferino, Invalides, Vaugirard have thrown off the tasteful chain o f
streets and squares, and, here in the lightning-pierced, whistle-pierced
darkness, have become misshapened sewer gods, catacomb fairies. This
labyrinth conceals in its innards not ju st one, but dozens o f blind, rushing
bulls, into whose jaws not once a year one Theban virgin, but every m orn­
ing thousands o f anemic young cleaning women and still sleepy salesmen
are forced to hurl themselves.139

As p a rt o f the “ m y th o lo g ic a l ty p o lo g y ” o f P a ris,140 the arcades en­

te r in to this u n d e rw o rld co nste lla tio n n o t in th e ir o rig in a l fa iry la n d
fo rm , b u t as they exist g hostlike, in the present. T h e “ co m p act
darkness” th a t at n ig h t seems to leap o u t o f the Passages at passers-
by, causing them to h u rry aw ay in fear, are like “ the places one was
show n in a ncient Greece th a t descended in to H a d e s” ; th e ir “ h is­
to ry , c o n d itio n and d isp ersa l” become this c e n tu ry ’s key to the
past, to the “ u n d e rw o rld in to w h ic h Paris sank.” 141
j 0 3 _________________________
4 M yth ic H istory: Fetish

R ecurrence

M o d e rn ity ’ s m y th ic te m p o ra lity reanim ates as co n te m p o ra ry social

types the a rch aic figures o f H ades, whose pun ish m en ts are echoed
in the repetitiveness o f m odern existence:

The essence o f m ythic occurrence is recurrence. In it is inscribed as a

hidden figure the fu tility that stands w ritten in the stars for several heroes
o f the underworld (Tantalus, Sisyphus, or the Danaides).142

F o r the “ heroes” o f mass society, the experience o f fu tilit y is not

different. (W e have alrea d y seen how fashion metes o u t th is p u n is h ­
m en t.) T h e n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry p h a nta sm ag oria depicted cashiers
in the cafe w ind ow s as fa iry goddesses; B e n ja m in compares them
instead to the D anaides, punished in Hades by h a v in g to d ra w
w ater th ro ug h a sieve and pour it in to broken cisterns.143 T here is “ a
p a rtic u la r s tru ctu re o f fate th a t can be recognized o n ly in m oney;
and a p a rtic u la r s tru ctu re o f m oney th a t is recognized o n ly in
fa te .” 144 T h is fate pursues those w ho themselves pursue happiness,
and hope th a t m oney w ill b uy it: T h e m od ern T a n ta lu s is the
eternal seeker o f love fro m a stree tw alke r o r any passerby, like the
m od ern g a m b le r145 p la y in g his lu c k y n u m b e r at the ro u le tte wheel
whose eye “ falls co m p ulsively, like the iv o ry b all, in to the red o r
black s lo t” :

Does he not transform the arcades into a Casino, a gambling hall where he
places the red, blue, and yellow chips of emotion on women, on a face that
appears suddenly— w ill it return his gaze?— on a silent m outh— w ill it
speak to him? T hat which looks out at the gambler from every number on
the green cloth— happiness— here winks to him out o f every woman’s
body, as the chimera o f sexuality: as his type.146

Sin

I n B e n ja m in ’s images, H e ll names re a lity d ire c tly ,147 and the sin o f

the liv in g is th e ir ow n p u n ish m e n t. T h is sin has its source, n ot in
desire its e lf (— “ o n ly ig n o ra n t ide alism can believe th a t sensual
desire, no m a tte r o f w h a t sort, could designate the theo log ica l con­
cept o f s in ” 148— ), b u t in desire’ s su pe rstitio us (m y th ic ) su rren de r
to fate. T h is occurs in fashion, w hen active, sensual desire is su rre n ­
dered to objects and perverted in to the passive desire fo r new
sensations.149 S im ila rly :
104

Part I I

In the gambler and the prostitute it is superstition which supplies the

representations o f fate, fillin g all desire-filled intercourse w ith fate-
inquisitiveness and fate-lasciviousness, and itself lowering desire to its
throne.150

I n the early notes, in e x p lic itly th eological language, B e n ja m in de­

scribes an a lte rn a tiv e “ life w ith G o d ” th a t is connected to desire b y
the name: “ T h e nam e its e lf is the cry o f naked desire. T h is h o ly,
sober, fate-less in -its e lf, the nam e, knows no greater opponent th an
fate [ . . . ] . 151 B e n ja m in is c itin g h im s e lf here in a differen t context,
d ra w in g on his ow n e arlie r w ritin g s on language, in w h ic h the idea
o f the “ nam e” refers to the G od-granted, co gnitive pow er o f
humans, among a ll n a tu ra l creatures, to translate Being in to la n ­
guage, th a t is, to reveal its m eaning: A d a m , as the firs t p hilosopher,
nam ed the creatures o f Paradise.152 I t is ju s t this p ow er— and m o r­
al re s p o n s ib ility as d iv in e creatures— th a t hum ans, s in fu lly , th ro w
aw ay w hen they a llo w themselves to be nam ed by a m y th ic fate and
bow d ow n before it. In its p o litic a l fo rm , this sin is fascism:

Lodged in fate is the [fascist] concept o f “ total experience” that is deadly

by nature. W ar is unsurpassed in prefiguring it (— “ The fact that I was
born a German, it is for this that I die” ) .153

B oredom

Monotony is nourished by the new.154

H e llis h ly re p e titive tim e — eternal w a itin g p un ctua te d by a “ d is ­

c o n tin u o u s” sequence o f “ in te rru p tio n s ” 155— constitutes the p a r ti­
c u la rly m odern fo rm o f boredom , th a t in Paris already in the 1840s,
“ began to be experienced as e pide m ic.” 156 “ ‘ France is b o r e d /”
announced L a m a rtin e in 1839.157 H au ssm a n n ’s rem od eling d id n o t
help m atters: ‘ “ These great streets, these great quays, these great
b u ild in g s , these great sewers, th e ir physiognom y b a d ly copied o r
b a d ly im a gin ed , [ . . . ] exhale b ored om .’ ” 158 B e n ja m in com m ents:
“ T h e m ore th a t life is regulated a d m in is tra tiv e ly , the m ore people
m ust lea rn w a itin g . Games o f chance have the g reat a ttra c tio n o f
m a k in g people free fro m w a itin g .” 159 Endless w a itin g thus makes
the fin a lity o f fate seem appealing. Boredom , however, is n o t
escaped easily. I t threatens the gam ble r, the d ru g user, the fla n e u r,
105________________________
4 M yth ic H istory: Fetish

and the d an dy w ho appear to choose th e ir fate fre e ly 160 no less than

the e xte rn a lly com pelled w orkers at th e ir m achines w ho c a n n o t.161
B e n ja m in calls boredom an “ index o f p a rtic ip a tio n in the collective
sleep.” 162 B u t it is a sleep in w h ic h class differences are crucial. I f
h istory, fa r fro m progressing w ith the pace o f technology, is stuck
like a broken record in the present stru ctu re o f social relations, it is
because the w orkers cannot afford to stop w o rkin g , any m ore than
the class th a t lives o ff this la b o r can afford to le t h isto ry go fo rw a rd .
“ W e are bored when we do n o t kn o w w h a t we are w a itin g fo r.” 163
T h e u pp er classes do n o t know , and do n ot w ish to know , th a t the
objective source o f boredom is because h isto ry is la n g u is h in g — and
the m om ent o f th e ir ow n o ve rth ro w is delayed. T h e y are addicted
to b o re d o m ,164 as they are to re m a in in g asleep. T h e average m an —
and the p o e t165— blames boredom on the w e a th e r.166 B u t for the
w o rk in g class, in d u s tria l la b o r shatters the illu s io n th a t nature
ra th e r th a n society is to blame. B e n ja m in characterizes “ fa cto ry
w o rk as the econom ic su bstructure o f the ideological boredom o f
the u pp er classes” fo r w ho m boredom is m erely fashionable, c itin g
Engels (1844) on the co n d itio n o f the w o rk in g class in E ngland:

“ The gloomy routine o f an endless agony of work, in which the identical

mechanical process is undergone again and again, is like the task of
Sisyphus: The burden o f work, like rocks, falls back repeatedly upon the
exhausted workers.” 167

B e n ja m in distinguishes p o litic a lly between differen t social types in

term s o f th e ir a ttitu d e to w ard boredom : the g am ble r ju s t k illin g
tim e ,168 the fla n e u r w ho “ charges tim e w ith pow er like a b a tte ry ,”
and “ fin a lly , a th ird type: he charges tim e and gives its pow er o u t
again in changed fo rm :— in th a t o f e xpe ctatio n .” 169 I t is surely the
re v o lu tio n a ry w hom B e n ja m in here intends, fo r w hom “ boredom is
the threshold o f great deeds.” 170 B u t the tr u ly in fe rn a l h o rro r o f
m odern tim e is th a t re v o lu tio n its e lf can become its v ic tim , con­
demned to repeat itself, and condemned to fail: 1789, 1830, 1848,
1871— F o u r “ re v o lu tio n s ” in the name o f universal dem ocracy and
ju s tic e , each ushering in a consolidation o f the same p a rtic u la r in ­
terests and p a rtic u la r class co n tro l; a ll b u t the firs t, te m p o ra ry in ­
te rru p tio n s, w h ich le ft the social relations o f class fu n d a m e n ta lly
unassailed.
106

Part I I

Im p riso n e d at the F o rt du T a u re a u d u rin g the Paris C om m une,

Auguste B la n q u i, now an old m an and a veteran o f a ll three o f the
c e n tu ry ’s revo lu tio ns, w ro te a book o f cosm ological speculations171
th a t inclu de d images o f h isto ry so close to the Passagen-Werk's p re ­
sentation o f m o d e rn ity as H e ll th a t w hen B e n ja m in stu m b led upon
this little -k n o w n te xt at the end o f 1937,172 he could n o t help b u t see
it as d ocu m e ntary su b sta n tia tio n o f his own w ork. T h e c ru c ia l d if­
ference between th e ir positions was th a t B la n q u i, w h ile id e n tify in g
the phantasm agoria as in fe rn a l ra th e r th an heavenly, d id n o t see as
a consequence the inadequacy o f the a narchist p o litic s o f p utschism
th a t had been his ow n life lo n g p osition . Instead, he m ade the
mistake o f absolutizing the H e ll o f com m odity society, describing
it w ith com plem entary m o n u m e n ta lity.173 B la nq ui projected not
progress, b u t catastrophe onto the w hole universe:

The cosmic view that Blanqui outlines in [this last w ritten book], taking
his data from the mechanistic natural sciences of bourgeois society, is an
infernal one— and at the same time complementary to that society which
B {la n q u i} was forced to acknowledge as victor over him self at the end of
his life. W hat is tru ly upsetting is that there is no irony whatsoever in this
description. I t is an unrestrained submission, but at the same time the
most terrible accusation against a society that throws this image o f the
cosmos as its projection onto the heavens.174

B la n q u i’s vision is one in w h ich “ ‘one chooses by chance o r by

choice, no difference; one does n ot escape fro m fate’ .” 175 T h e re is
no escape, because h u m a n existence undergoes precisely the same
process o f d up lica ting reproduction th at characterizes the mass-
produced co m m o d ity:

“ . . . [A person’s] existence divides in two, a planet for each one, u n til it

bifurcates a second, a third time, to thousands o f times [ . . . ] ten
thousand different editions.” 176

O n a ll the planets, th ro u g h o u t the universe:

“ The same monotony, the same im m obility on alien stars. The universe
repeats itself w ithout end, and stays in its place, pawing the ground.” 177

T h e punishm ents o f a ncient H ades could n ot have been m ore unen­

d ura b le th an B la n q u i’s d escrip tio n o f the present h is to ry o f the
liv in g :
\07________________
4 M y th ic H istory: Fetish

“ T hat which I write in this moment in a cell o f the prison o f the Fort du
Taureau I have written and I w ill continue to w rite for eternity, at a table,
with a pen, in clothes, in circumstances that are absolutely similar. I t is
the same for everyone. One after another, each o f these planets sinks into
the flames o f renewal, reviving and then falling again, the monotonous
flowing o f an hourglass that turns itself around and empties itself eternal­
ly. The new is always old, and the old continuously new. [. . . ] The num ­
ber o f our doubles is infinite in time and space. [ . . . ] These doubles are
flesh and bone, indeed, pants and jacket, crinoline and chignon. They are
not at all phantoms. They are the present eternalized. Here, however is a
great flaw: there exists no progress. Alas! No, they are vulgar re-editions,
redundant reproductions.” 178

B e n ja m in credits B la n q u i fo r seeing th ro u g h the p hantasm agoria o f

progress, b u t he d id n o t see its source. I t is the “ accelerated p ro ­
gression o f economic crises” th a t keeps history cyclical.179 T he H e ll
th a t he finds in re a lity is reflected in his theory d ire c tly ra th e r th an
d ia le c tic a lly , th a t is, ra th e r than m ediated by the very idea o f his­
to ric a l progress th a t has been p u t in to question. Instead: “ T h e
th o u g h t o f eternal recurrence makes a mass a rtic le o u t o f h is to ric a l
occurrence its e lf.” 180 F o r B la n q u i as fo r N ietzsch e,181 the h is to ric a l
d e te rm ina nts (and therefore lim its ) o f this p hantasm agoria are not
recognized. T h e spell o f eternal recurrence catches them in its
“ m agic c irc le .” 182 In the second (1939) version o f the Passagen-Werk
expose, B e n ja m in ’s new in tro d u c tio n ends w ith the fo llo w in g
passage:

The phantasmagoria o f culture itself ultim ately finds expression in Hauss-

mann’s transformation o f Paris. The fact that the glitter w ith which the
society o f commodity production thereby surrounds itself and its illusory
sense o f security are, however, not a reliable shelter is restored to memory
by the collapse o f the Second Empire and the Paris Commune. In the
same epoch, the most feared opponent o f this society, Blanqui, revealed to
it the terrifying traits o f this phantasmagoria in his last book. In this text,
humanity figures as condemned. Everything new that it m ight hope for
w ill unveil itself as nothing but a reality which has always been there. I t
w ill be ju s t as incapable o f furnishing a liberating solution as a new
fashion is o f renewing society. Blanqui’s cosmic speculation teaches that
hum anity w ill be prey to the anxiety o f myth for so long as the phantasma­
goria has a place in it . 183
108

Part I I

D efinition o f the “ modern as the new in connection w ith that which has
always already been there.” 184

The sensation o f the newest, the most modern, is in fact ju st as much a

dream form o f events as the eternal return o f the same.185

In the tw o im age spheres ju s t considered— n a tu ra l h is to ry as p re ­

h is to ric and m o d e rn ity as H e ll— the n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry o rig in s o f
the m ost recent h is to ric a l phenom ena, when nam ed as re in c a rn a ­
tions o f the m ost archaic, open themselves up to c ritic a l u n d e r­
standing. B o th images co n ta in the same conceptual elem ents—
h is to ry and natu re , m y th and tran sitorine ss— b u t in co nfig u ra tio n s
so d ifferen t th a t th e ir m eanings p u ll in opposite d irectio n s. I f a fte r a
ce ntu ry the o rig in a l arcades appear p re h isto ric, it is because o f the
e xtrem ely ra p id changes w h ic h in d u s tria l technology has w ro u g h t
upon the u rb a n landscape. B u t the experience o f tim e b ro u g h t
about by this ra p id change has been precisely the opposite: hellish
re p e titio n . B o th images c ritic iz e a m y th ic a l assum ption as to the
n atu re o f h isto ry. O ne is the assum ption th a t ra p id change is h is­
to ric a l progress; the o th e r is the conclusion th a t the m od ern is no
progress:

W hat is most particular to dialectical experience is that it dissipates the

illusory appearance o f the always-the-same, indeed, even o f simple repeti­
tion in history. Authentic political experience is absolutely free o f this
illusion.186

T h e essence o f m o d e rn ity cannot be defined a b stra c tly w ith o u t fa ll­

in g in to lo g ica l c o n tra d ic tio n . B u t abstract log ic is m erely the self-
re fe ren tial refle ction o f reason and expresses no su bstantive tru th .
In contrast, as “ nam es” o f m o d e rn ity , both the “ n ew ” and the
“ a rch a ic” are necessary to express the d ia le ctica l tru th o f th is p a r­
tic u la r h is to ric a l co n ste lla tio n in its c o n tra d ic to ry extremes

Belief in progress, in endless perfectibility (— an unending m oral task— )

and the conception o f eternal recurrence are complementary. They are
ineluctable antinomies, in the face o f which the dialectical conception o f
historical time needs to be developed. Against this dialectical conception,
eternal recurrence emerges as precisely that “ flat rationalism ” o f which
the belief in progress is accused, and this latter belongs to the m ythical
\09________________
4 M y th ic History: Fetish

mode o f thinking ju st as much as does the conception o f eternal

recurrence.187

T h e k in d o f h isto rica l change th a t w o u ld leave m y th b e h in d —

because the new n atu re re a lly had b ro u g h t about a new society—
has n o t yet occurred. A n d this confronts us w ith an even greater
paradox, one th a t dem onstrates decisively th a t the conceptual ele­
m ents are n o t in va ria n ts. Because such a ra d ica l h is to ric a l change
has never existed before in h isto ry, i t can o n ly fin d expression as
m y th . I t follow s th a t, condem ned in one c o n fig u ra tio n , m y th is to
be redeemed in another.
5
Mythic Nature: Wish Image

The arcades as dream- and wish-image o f the collective.1

B e nja m in was struck by an incontestable, e m p iric a l fact: C onsis­

te n tly, w hen m odern inn ova tion s appeared in m odern h is to ry , they
took the fo rm o f h is to ric a l restitu tio n s. N ew form s “ cite d ” the old
ones o u t o f context. T h u s: “ T he re is an a tte m p t to m aster the new
experiences o f the c ity in the fram e o f the o ld ones o f tra d itio n a l
n a tu re .” 2 A n d : “ [T h e nineteenth century develops] a th irs t fo r the
p ast.” 3

I t was “ insane that the French fashions o f the Revolution and Napoleon
I ’s Empire mimicked the [ancient] Greek proportions w ith modern cut
and sewn clothing.” 4

T h e Passagen-Werk m a te ria l is fu ll o f evidence o f this fusion o f old

and new. Fashion co n tin u o u sly drew on the past: “ [ W ]ith the
M u n ic h E xp o sitio n o f 1875, the G erm an Renaissance became
fa shionable.” 5 M e ch a n ica l looms in Europe m im icke d handw oven
shawls fro m the O rie n t, w h ile the firs t w om en’s “ sp ortsw ea r” (de­
signed in the 1890s fo r bicycle rid in g ) “ strove [w ith its tig h t- fittin g
w aists and rococo s kirts] fo r the conventional ide al-im a ge o f
elegance.” 6 W h e n B aud e la ire searched for the w ords to describe
the specifically m odern struggles o f the u rb a n poet, he revived the
“ archaic im age o f the fencer.” 7 W hen social Utopians conceived o f
new, com m un al societies, it was as a re s titu tio n o f sm all-scale a g ri­
c u ltu ra l p ro d u ctio n . F o u rie r’s phalansterie, a h ig h ly com plex,
m _______________________________
5 M y th ic Nature: W ish Image

m ach in e like social o rg a n iza tio n conceivable o n ly w ith in a m odern

co nte xt,8 was to produce “ the land o f C ockaigne, the u r-o ld w ish
sym bol o f leisure and p le n ty [ . . . ] . ” 9
N ow here was the restorative im p ulse m ore evident than in the
form s taken by the new technologies themselves, w h ic h im ita te d
precisely the old form s they were destined to overcome. E a rly
p h o to g ra p h y m im icked p a in tin g .10 T h e firs t ra ilro a d cars were de­
signed like stage coaches, and the firs t e lectric lig h t bulbs were
shaped like gas flam es.11 N e w ly processed iro n was used fo r o rn a ­
m ent ra th e r th an s tru c tu ra l supports, shaped in to leaves, o r m ade
to resemble w o o d .12 In d u s tria lly produced utensils were decorated
to resemble flowers, fauna, seashells, and G reek and Renaissance
a n tiq u e s .13 “ W ild Salom e” appeared in a Jugendstil poster fo r
cigarettes.14 T h e n ew ly invented bicycle was nam ed by a poet “ the
H orse o f the A p ocalypse.” 15 A n d the earliest form o f a ir trave l was
celebrated by a staging o f U ra n u s 5 rise fro m the earth:

The balloon driver Poitevin, underwritten by great publicity, undertook

in his gondola [during the Second Republic] an ascension of Uranus w ith
maidens dressed up as mythological figures.16

In the fie ld o f arch itectu re, the w ro u g h t iro n and steel th a t was firs t
developed fo r ra ilro a d s 17 w o u ld u ltim a te ly be com bined w ith glass
fo r the co nstructio n o f m od em skyscrapers.18 B u t the Passages, the
firs t constructions o f iro n and glass, instead resembled C h ris tia n
ch urche s,19 w h ile the firs t d ep a rtm e n t stores w ith th e ir imm ense
glassed-in roofs “ seemed to have been m odeled after O rie n ta l
bazaars.5,20 B e nja m in speaks o f iro n and glass “ come too e a rly ” 21:
“ I n the m id d le o f the last ce ntu ry no one yet had an in k lin g o f how
to b u ild w ith iro n and glass.” 22 A n early e n try in the Passagen-Werk
notes: “ T ra n s p o rta tio n in the stage o f m yth . In d u s try in the stage
o f m y th . (R a ilro a d stations and early fa cto rie s).” 23 T h e 1935 ex­
pose elaborates: “ [E a rly n in ete e n th -ce n tu ry] architects m im ic the
p illa rs o f Pom peiian colum ns; factories m im ic p riv a te v illa s, as
later the firs t railroad stations are modeled on chalets.” 24 “ ‘One
s im p ly transferred the w ay o f b u ild in g w ith w ood onto iro n ’ .” 25
U n d e r the a rchaic masks o f classical m yth (figure 5.1) and tra d i­
tio n a l n a tu re (figu re 5.2), the in h e re n t p o te n tia l o f the “ new
n a tu re ” — m achines, iro n shaped by new processes, technologies
and in d u s tria l m aterials o f every so rt— rem ained unrecognized,
unconscious. A t the same tim e, these masks express the desire to
112

Part I I

5.1 Poseidon adorns a fountain worked by an invisible steam engine, C rystal Palace
Exposition, London, 1851.
113_______________________________
5 M yth ic Nature: Wish Image

5.2 Fountain o f iron in the shape o f dolphins, shells, and aquatic plants, Crystal Palace
Exposition, London, 1851.
114
Part I I

“ re tu rn ” to a m y th ic tim e w hen hum an beings were reconciled

w ith the n a tu ra l w o rld .
B e n ja m in w rites: “ F ashion, like a rch itectu re, [ . . . ] stands in the
darkness o f the lived m om e n t [ im D unkel des gelebten Augenblicks\ .” 26
H e has taken this phrase fro m E rn st Bloch. I t is central to B lo c h ’s
social u to p ia n p hiloso ph y, d escrib ing the m ystical “ nunc starts,” the
m om en ta ry, fleeting experience o f fu lfillm e n t d im ly a n tic ip a to ry o f
a re a lity th a t is “ n o t-y e t.” A c c o rd in g to B e nja m in , i f the “ n o t-y e t”
o f the new n atu re is expressed in a rchaic sym bols ra th e r th an in
new forms commensurate w ith it, then this condition o f m odem con­
sciousness has its p a ra lle l in the inadequacies o f d evelopm ent in the
econom ic base. H e is m ost e x p lic it in a passage from the Passagen-
Werk expose. I t begins w ith a q u o ta tio n fro m Jules M ic h e le t:
“ E ve ry epoch dream s the one th a t follow s it . ” B e n ja m in com m ents:

To the form o f the new means o f production which in the beginning is still
dominated by the old one (M a rx ), there correspond in the collective con­
sciousness images in which the new is intermingled w ith the old. These
images are wish images, and in them the collective attempts to transcend
as well as to illum ine the incompletedness o f the social order o f produc­
tion. There also emerges in these wish images a positive striving to set
themselves off from the outdated— that means, however, the most recent
past. These tendencies turn the image fantasy, that maintains its impulse
from the new, back to the ur-past. In the dream in which every epoch sees
in images the epoch that follows, the latter appears wedded to elements of
ur-history, that is, o f a classless society. Its experiences, which have their
storage place in the unconscious of the collective, produce, in their inter­
penetration w ith the new, the utopia that has left its trace behind in a
thousand configurations o f life from permanent buildings to ephemeral
fashions.27

T h e real p o s s ib ility o f a classless society in the “ epoch to fo llo w ”

the present one, revitalizes past images as expressions o f the
a ncient w ish fo r social u to p ia in dream form . B u t a dream im age is
n o t yet a d ialectical-im age, and desire is n ot yet knowledge. W ishes
and dream s are psychological categories w h ic h fo r B e n ja m in have
no im m e d ia te status as p h ilo so p h ica l tru th . P a rtin g com pany w ith
the ro m a n ticism o f E rn s t B loch (w ho in tu rn criticize d B e n ja m in ’s
“ su rre a list p h ilo s o p h iz in g ” fo r its lack o f s u b je c tiv ity 28), B e n ja m in
was re lu c ta n t to rest re v o lu tio n a ry hope d ire c tly on im a g in a tio n ’s
ca pa city to a n ticip a te the n ot-yet-e xisting . Even as w ish im age,
u to p ia n im a g in a tio n needed to be in te rp re te d th ro u g h the m a te ria l
115_______________________________

5 Mythic Nature: Wish Image

objects in w h ich i t found expression, fo r (as B loch knew ) it was

upon the tra n s fo rm in g m ed ia tio n o f m a tte r th a t the hope o f u to p ia
u ltim a te ly depended: te chnology’ s capacity to create the n ot-yet-
know n.

T h e te xt on collective w ish images cited above makes theoretical

assertions ra th e r th an argum ents, and they are by no means self-
evident. I t m ay be h e lp fu l to consider the passage m ore closely, this
tim e in an e a rlie r version o f the expose th a t is s ig n ific a n tly d ifferent
in w o rd in g and som ew hat less e llip tic a l:

To the form o f the new means o f production that in the beginning is still
dominated by the old one (M arx), there correspond in the societal super­
structure wish images in which the new is intermingled w ith the old in
fantastic ways.29

N ow , M a rx argued th a t w hen the new means o f p ro d u c tio n comes

in to being, its socialist p o te n tia l is fettered by s till-e x is tin g c a p ita l­
ist re la tio n s— hence the inadequacy o f developm ent o f the econo­
m ic base. B u t as an e n try in Konvolut F, “ Iro n C o n s tru c tio n ,”
makes clear, B e n ja m in believed these fetters m ust be understood in
term s o f the co llective im a g in a tio n , as inadequacies o f fo rm as w e ll
as o f social re la tio n s— and th a t he understood M a rx to have m eant
this as w ell. B e n ja m in cites C apital:

“Just how much in the beginning the old form o f the means o f production
dominated the new forms is demonstrated. . . perhaps more strikingly
than anywhere by an experimental locomotive that was tested before the
discovery o f today’s locomotives, which had in fact two feet that it raised
up altematingly, like a horse. Only after further development o f mechan­
ics and the accumulation o f practical experience does the form become
totally determined by the mechanistic principle and thereby completely
emancipated from the traditional physical form o f the work-instrument
that bursts forth into a machine.” 30

B e n ja m in com m ents on M a r x ’s observation: ‘ J u s t w h a t form s,

now ly in g concealed w ith in m achines, w ill be d e te rm in in g fo r o u r
epoch we are o n ly b e g in nin g to surm ise.” 31 H ere is the “ new
n a tu re ” 32 s till in its m y th ic stage. T ech no log y, n o t yet “ em anci­
p ate d,” is held back b y co nve ntio na l im a g in a tio n th a t sees the new
o n ly as a c o n tin u a tio n o f the old w h ic h has ju s t now become obso-
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Part I I

lete. B e n ja m in notes: “ T h e conservative tendency in P arisian life:

As late as 1867 an entrep ren eu r conceived o f a pla n to have five
hun dred sedan chairs c irc u la tin g in P a ris.” 33
N o w B e n ja m in tells us th a t this fo rm a l inadequacy o f the new
natu re is n o t synonym ous w ith (b u t o nly “ corresponds” to) “ w ish
images” w h ich , fa r fro m re stra in in g the new w ith in the given
form s, reach back to a m ore d is ta n t past in o rd er to break from
conve ntio na l form s. T h e e arly version o f the expose continues:

This interm ingling owes its fantastic character above all to the fact that in
the course o f social development, the old never sets itself off sharply from
the new; rather, the latter, striving to set itself apart from the recently
outmoded, renews archaic, ur-temporal elements. The utopian images
that accompany the emergence o f the new always concurrently reach back
to the ur-past. In the dream in which every epoch sees in images before its
eyes the one that follows it, the images appear wedded to elements of
ur-history.34

I t is necessary to m ake a d is tin c tio n : In nature, the new is m y th ic ,

because its p o te n tia l is n o t yet realized; in consciousness, the o ld is
m y th ic , because its desires never were fu lfille d . P a rad oxically, col­
lective im a g in a tio n m obilizes its powers for a re v o lu tio n a ry break
from the recent past by evoking a c u ltu ra l m em ory reservoir o f
m yths and u to p ia n sym bols from a m ore d is ta n t ur-past. T h e “ col­
lective w ish im ages” are n o th in g else b u t this. Sparked by the new,
from w h ic h they “ m a in ta in th e ir im p u lse ,” 35 they envision its re­
v o lu tio n a ry p o te n tia l by c o n ju rin g up archaic images o f the collec­
tive “ w is h ” fo r social u to p ia . U to p ia n im a g in a tio n thus cuts across
the c o n tin u u m o f techn olo gy’s h isto rica l developm ent as the possi­
b ility o f re v o lu tio n a ry ru p tu re (d isp la y C ). T h is means th a t each
o f the “ co rresp on din g ” elements— m y th ic natu re and m y th ic
consciousness— w orks to lib e ra te the o the r from m y th . “ W is h im ­
ages” emerge at the p o in t w here they intersect.
B e n ja m in is n ot m a in ta in in g th a t the contents o f past m yths-p ro -
vide a b lu e p rin t fo r the fu tu re . T o believe th a t they could is p u re ly
u to p ia n . N ow here in his w ritin g s do the ur-im ages have a status
othe r th a n th a t o f dream sym bol. T h e y p ro vid e the m o tiv a tio n fo r
fu tu re e m a ncip atio n, w h ic h w ill n o t be lite ra lly a resto ratio n o f the
past, b u t w ill be based on new form s th a t “ we are o nly b e g in nin g to
surm ise.” “ E very epoch dream s the one th a t follow s i t ” — as the
dream fo rm o f the fu tu re , n o t its re a lity . T h e representations o f the
 U7_______________________
5 M yth ic Nature: W ish Image

Display C

New Nature collective

Mythic
Stage — fc -
wish images.

Ur-past

collective unconscious are n o t re v o lu tio n a ry on th e ir ow n, b u t o nly

w hen d ia le c tic a lly m ediated by the m a te ria l, “ new ” n ature, the as-
• yet u nim a g in ed form s o f w h ich alone have the p o te n tia l to actualize
the collective dream . T h e images are thus less pre-visions o f postre­
v o lu tio n a ry society than the necessary pro-visions for ra d ica l social
practice. Hence B e n ja m in ’s theory o f re v o lu tio n as “ in n e rv a tio n ” :
W is h images “ in n e rva te ” the “ technical organ o f the co lle ctive,”
s u p p lyin g it w ith nerve s tim u la tio n th a t p ro m p ts re v o lu tio n a ry
a c tio n — “ lik e the ch ild w ho learns [th e p ra c tic a l task o f] grasping
by try in g [im p o s s ib ly ] to catch the m oon in its hands.” 36
B y a tta ch in g themselves as surface o rn a m e n ta tio n to the ind us­
tria l and technological forms w hich have ju s t come in to existence,
collective w ish images im b ue the m erely new w ith ra d ic a l p o litic a l
m eaning, in s c rib in g v is ib ly on the products o f the new means o f
p ro d u c tio n an u r-im age o f the desired social ends o f th e ir develop­
m ent. In short, even as they m ask the new, these archaic images
p ro vid e a sym bo lic representation o f w h a t the h um an, social m ean­
in g o f technological change is a ll about. T h u s it is o f the utm ost
p o litic a l significance th a t V ic to r H u g o saw in mass re p ro d u ctio n
the h is to ric a lly real, objective fo rm o f C h ris t’s m ira culou s d iv isio n
o f bread to feed the m u ltitu d e s: “ T h e m u ltip lic a tio n o f readers is
the m u ltip lic a tio n o f bread. T h e day w hen C h ris t discovered this
sym bol, he foresaw the p rin tin g w o rks.” 37 S im ila rly , it is c ru cia l
th a t F o u rie r’ s early n in ete e n th -ce n tu ry u to p ia , in w h ich fish sw im
in rivers o f lem onade and sharks help hum ans h u n t fo r fish,38
“ fille d the u r-o ld w ish sym bol o f leisure and p le n ty [ . . . ] w ith new
118

Part I I

life ,” 39 and th a t u to p ia n socialists generally resurrected images o f

an o rig in a ry G olden Age:

“ Yes, when the entire world, from Paris to China, O divine Saint-Simon,
w ill come to embrace your doctrine, then must the Golden Age return in
all its brilliance, the rivers w ill flow w ith tea and chocolate; sheep fully
roasted w ill gambol on the plain, and pike cooked in butter w ill navigate
the Seine; steamed spinach w ill spring from the ground w ith a border o f
croutons. The trees w ill bear stewed apples; and grain w ill grow in bales
ready to harvest; it w ill snow wine, it w ill rain chickens, and ducks w ill
drop from the sky w ith a garnish o f turnips.” 40

Such visions are p ro o f o f the “ too e a rly ” stage41 o f both technology

and im a g in a tio n . T h e ir fa ntastic form s are “ the m ost a u th e n tic w it­
ness” o f “ ju s t how caught in a dream technological p ro d u c tio n was
in its beg in nin gs.” 42 A t the same tim e, however, they te ll us th a t
u to p ia n desires have been attached to the new n atu re fro m the
start. In so fa r as th e ir im age traces have been lost in h is to ry , it is
p o litic a lly necessary to redeem th em .43 W hen B e nja m in states th a t
these images “ p e rta in ” to a “ classless society,” i t is because the
fa iry -ta le q u a lity o f the w ish fo r happiness th a t they express pre­
supposes an end to m a te ria l scarcity and e xp lo ita tive la b o r th a t
fo rm the s tru c tu ra l core o f societies based on class d o m in a tio n . T h e
early version o f the expose passage concludes:

I t is not because of being consciously garbled by the ideology o f the ruling

class that the reflections o f the substructure w ithin the superstructure are
inadequate, but because the new, in order to shape itself visually, always
connects its elements w ith those pertaining to a classless society. The col­
lective unconscious has more o f a share in it than the consciousness o f the
collective. O ut o f it come the images o f utopia that have left their traces
behind them in a thousand configurations o f life from buildings to
fashions.44

In the b eg in nin g o f an era, there is an in tu itiv e , “ to o -e a rly ”

apprehension o f the fu tu re . T h e residues o f past c u ltu ra l creations
bear witness to it. B u t i f the a n tic ip a to ry w ish sym bols th a t leave
th e ir traces on these creations have rem ained “ unconscious,” this is
another w ay o f saying the collective is n o t even aware th a t i t is
d re a m in g — w ith the in e vita b le resu lt th a t sym bol tu rn s in to fetish,
and technology, the means fo r re a lizin g hum an dream s, is m istaken
fo r th e ir a ctu a liza tio n . C o m m o d ity fetishes and dream fetishes be­
come in d istin g u ish a b le . W h e n processed food appears on the sh e lf
1_19_________________________
5 M yth ic Nature: Wish Image

5.3 “ H um an Happiness— food for the asking— in the F ouricrist utopia” — G randville,
1844.
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Part I I

as i f it had dropped fro m a S a int-S im on ian sky, com m odities begin

th e ir “ ‘ theological capers,’ ” 45 the w ish images become a p hantas­
m agoria, and dream tu rn s in to delusion. W hen mass m edia are
seen as themselves the d em ocratiza tion o f cu lture, d is trib u te d as
m ira cu lo u sly as C h ris t’s m u ltip ly in g food, they too become fetishes.
T h e trem endous p ow er o f the new technology has rem ained in
the hands o f the ru lin g class th a t w ields it as a force o f d o m in a tio n ,
w h ile p riv a te ly a p p ro p ria tin g the w ealth it produces. In this con­
text, dream sym bols are the fetishized desires th a t advertise com ­
m odities. A n d the collective goes on sleeping. B u t should it awaken,
the u to p ia n sym bols can be redeemed as a m an ifesta tio n o f tru th .
Essential to this tru th is its transitoriness. T h e w ish sym bols, sign­
posts in a period o f tra n s itio n , can in sp ire the re fu n c tio n in g o f the
new n atu re so th a t it satisfies m a te ria l needs and desires th a t are
the source o f the dream in the firs t place. W ish images do n o t lib e r­
ate h u m a n ity d ire c tly . B u t they are v ita l to the process.

“ I t is easy to understand that every great. . . ‘interest,’ when it first steps

upon the world stage, extends in ‘idea’ or ‘imagination’ far beyond its real
lim its, and mistakes itself for the interest o f humanity in general. This
illusion forms that which Fourier calls the tone of every historical
epoch.” 46

T h e technological capacity to produce m ust be m ediated by the

utopian capacity to dream — and vice versa. Was Benjam in presum ­
in g an a uto no m y o f the im a g in a tio n in co m p a tib le w ith h is to ric a l
m aterialism ? A d o rn o th o u g h t so. H e w o u ld n o t have considered the
transiency o f collective w ish sym bols sufficient cause fo r th e ir re­
dem ption. U ltim a te ly he saw no d istinction between these dream im ­
ages and co nve ntio na l consciousness in th a t b oth were produced
w ith in the d is to rtin g context o f class society. I t was precisely the
expose passage on w ish images considered above th a t so tro u b le d
h im .47 I t seemed to eternalize in a m ost a h isto rica l w ay the con­
tents o f the collective psyche. A d o rn o appears to have understood
B e n ja m in as a ffirm in g lite ra lly M ic h e le t’s idea th a t every age
dream s its successor, as i f dream images were d ia le c tic a l images
pure and sim ple, and he protested:
\ 2\ ____________________
5 M yth ic Nature: Wish Image

[. . . I ] f the dialectical image is nothing but the mode in which the fetish
character is conceived w ithin collective consciousness, then indeed the
Saint-Simonian conception o f the commodity world might be brought to
light, but not its reverse side, namely the dialectical image o f the
nineteenth century as H ell.48

T he im age o f H e ll, central to the “ g lorious firs t d ra ft” o f the

Arcades p ro je ct, appeared to A d o rn o to have been repressed in the
expose. T h e re m a in in g idea o f “ w ish im ages” was, he claim ed,
“ u n d ia le c tic a l,” im p ly in g an “ im m a n e n t,” alm ost “ developm en­
ta l” re la tio n sh ip to a u to p ia n fu tu re .49 A g a in st this A d o rn o
insisted: “ T h e fetish character o f the co m m o d ity is n ot a fact o f
consciousness, b u t d ia le ctic in the em ine n t sense th a t it produces
consciousness.” 50 A n d he urged: “ T h e concept o f the c o m m o d ity as
a fetish m u st be docum ented, as is surely y o u r in te n t, by the m an
w ho discovered i t ” 51— th a t is, by M a rx him self.
B e n ja m in ’s response (via G retel K a rp lu s ) was to agree w ith
“ alm ost a ll” o f A d o rn o ’s reflections, b u t to claim th a t his concep­
tio n in the expose was n o t different. H e had n ot given up the them e
o f H e ll th a t figured so essentially in the early notes; ra th e r, these
notes and the expose represented “ the thesis and antithesis o f the
w o rk .” 52 T h a t A d o rn o rem ained unconvinced, given the expose’s
elusive w o rd in g , is not su rp rising . Y e t the Passagen-Werk m a te ria l
substantiates B e n ja m in ’s claim s. T h ro u g h o u t it, images o f the
nineteenth ce ntu ry as H e ll figure p ro m in e n tly (as we have seen53).
B e n ja m in had w orked th ro u g h the relevant passages o f C apital on
c o m m o d ity fetishism .54 W here the expose spoke o f the new as “ in ­
te rm in g le d w ith the o ld ,” A d o rn o said th a t he missed the inverse
argum ent, th a t “ the newest, as mere appearance and phantasm a­
goria, is its e lf the oldest.” 55 B u t B e n ja m in ’s s till-c e n tra l conception
o f “ n a tu ra l h is to ry ” m ade precisely th is p o in t.56 T h e ir disagree­
m ent was in fa ct lim ite d to th e ir evalua tion o f the colle ctive ’s u to ­
pia n desire (and hence the degree to w h ich mass cu ltu re could be
redeem ed). B e nja m in affirm ed this desire as a tra n s ito ry m om ent in
a process o f c u ltu ra l tra n s itio n . A d o rn o dismissed it as irredeem ­
a b ly ideological. In d en yin g the a uto no m y o f collective desire, he
clea rly believed his p o sitio n to be the m ore rigorous fro m a d ialec­
tic a l m a te ria lis t sta n d p o in t. Y e t the a rg um en t lies close at hand
th a t on this issue B e n ja m in was in fact in accord w ith M a r x ’s ow n
perceptions. In several texts, m ost e x p lic itly in the 18th Brumaire o f
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Part I I

Louis Bonaparte, it was M a rx w ho, w e ll before B e nja m in , observed

the cru cia l role played by images th a t conjured up the sym bols and
m yths o f a n tiq u ity at tim es o f ra d ica l h isto ric a l ru p tu re . M a r x
w rote:

And ju st when [human beings] seem engaged in revolutionizing them­

selves and objects, in creating something that has never existed before,
precisely in such epochs o f revolutionary crisis they anxiously conjure up
to their service the spirits o f the past and borrow from them names, battle
slogans and costumes in order to present the new scene of world history in
this time-honored disguise and this borrowed language. Thus Luther
wore the mask o f the Apostle Paul, the revolution o f 1789 to 1814 draped
itself alternately as the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire [. . . ].57

M a rx goes on to critic iz e the bourgeois “ re vo lu tio n a rie s” o f 1848,

whose citings o f the past were no m ore than parod ic re-citings in
a fa rcica l a tte m p t to repeat the R evo lutio n o f 1789. H e a ttrib u te s
the n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry p re d ile ctio n fo r ancient Rome to the
bourgeoisie’s need fo r “ se lf d eception,” in o rd er to “ hide fro m
themselves” the class lim ita tio n s o f the “ content o f th eir strug­
gles.” 58 A t the same tim e, M a rx recognizes that such historical
masks are capable n o t o n ly o f concealing, b u t also o f g lo rify in g
the very newness o f the present h isto rica l dram a, and th a t this can
serve a progressive purpose so long as the masking is temporary:

Thus at another stage o f development, a century earlier, Cromwell and

the English people borrowed the language, passions and illusions o f
the Old Testament for their bourgeois revolution. When the real goal
was reached, when the bourgeois transformation of English society was
accomplished, Locke displaced Habakkuk.
The awakening o f the dead in the case o f this revolution served to glor­
ify new struggles rather than parody old ones, to amplify the present task
in the imagination, not to take flight from achieving it in reality, to redis­
cover the spirit o f revolution, not to make its ghost walk about again.39

M a rx w arns th a t “ the social re vo lu tio n o f the nineteenth c e n tu ry

cannot create its p oe try o u t o f the past, b u t o n ly fro m the fu tu re .” 60
Y e t he does n o t assume th a t the new “ p o e try” w ill be produced ex
nihilo by the w o rk in g class as soon as bourgeois ide olo gica l hege­
m on y is o ve rth ro w n . H e compares the process to le a rn in g a new
language:

I t is like the beginner [w ho. . .] always translates back into the mother
tongue, but appropriates the spirit o f the new language and becomes cap-
m ____________________
5 M yth ic Nature: W ish Image

able o f producing freely w ithin it only by moving about in it w ithout re­

calling the old [. . . ] . 61

Surely B e n ja m in means n o th in g else w hen, in considering the in ­

adequacies o f collective consciousness vis-a-vis the new technology,
he asks:

When and how w ill the worlds o f form that have arisen in mechanics, in
film , machine construction and the new physics, and that have over­
powered us w ithout our being aware o f it, make what is natural in them
clear to us? When w ill the condition o f society be reached in which these
forms or those that have arisen from them open themselves up to us as
natural forms?62

So close is B e n ja m in to M a r x ’s ow n fo rm u la tio n th a t the fact these

passages are missing fro m the Passagen-Werk m a te ria l m ust come as a
surprise. B e n ja m in includes o the r passages from 18th B rum aire*3
w h ile lea ving this discussion (w h ich occurs at the ve ry b eg inning o f
M a r x ’s te xt) unacknow ledged. T h a t the om ission was accidental is
u n lik e ly. R athe r, it suggests B e nja m in realized th a t altho ug h his
argum ents paralleled those o f M a rx , they d id not coincide. M a rx
was concerned w ith the m om ent o f p o litic a l re v o lu tio n ; B e nja m in
was concerned w ith the tra n s itio n to socialism th a t comes after it.
I n 18th Brum aire, M a rx w ro te th a t socialist society “ cannot begin
its e lf u n til it has shed a ll su pe rstitio n in regard to the past,” and
has “ le t the dead b u ry the dead.” 64 B u t he left unexplained ju s t
how this shedding o f the past was to be achieved. T h e resu lt is a
gap in M a r x ’s th eo ry w h ich , w he th er o r n ot he intended it to be,
has been b ridg e d by an im p lic it fa ith in h isto ric a l progress, eco­
n om ically determ ined, as i f once socialist production relations were
established, in d u stria l-te ch n o lo g ica l p ro d u ctio n w o u ld its e lf gener­
ate the socialist im a g in a tio n capable o f p ro d u cin g a b ra n d new c u l­
ture. B e n ja m in ’s tr ip to M oscow had convinced h im th a t seizing
p o litic a l p ow er and n a tio n a liz in g the econom y, w h ile the p re con di­
tions fo r socialist tra n sfo rm a tio n , were n o t its guarantee, and th a t
so lon g as the Soviet governm ent repressed c u ltu ra l in n o v a tio n , the
p o litic a l re v o lu tio n its e lf was in danger o f being lost.65 I f his 1935
expose p u t fo rth the n o tio n th a t socialist cu ltu re w o u ld need to be
constructed o u t o f the em bryonic, still-in a d e q u a te form s th a t
preexisted in ca p tia lism , it was in the A rtw o rk essay composed the
same year th a t B e n ja m in a rticu la te d a fu ll-b lo w n theory o f the
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Part I I

su pe rstru cture 66: W hereas M a rx had discovered in the c a p ita lis t

econom ic base n o t o n ly the creation o f co nditions w h ic h w o u ld lead
to increasing e xp lo ita tio n o f the p ro le ta ria t b u t also those “ th a t
w o u ld make it possible to abolish ca p ita lism its e lf,” B e n ja m in
argued th a t w ith in the su pe rstru cture there was a separate (and
re la tiv e ly autonom ous) d ia le ctica l process, “ no less noticeable
[ . . . ] th an in the econom y,” b u t proceeding “ fa r m ore s lo w ly .” 67
I t is this d ia le ctic th a t makes possible the tra n s itio n to a socialist
society.68 I t plays its e lf o u t between the collective im a g in a tio n and
the p ro d u ctive p o te n tia l o f the new n atu re th a t hum an beings have
b ro u g h t in to being, b u t do n o t yet consciously com prehend.
M oreo ver, this d ia le ctic has developed not by “ b u ry in g ” the dead
past, b u t by re v ita liz in g it. F o r i f fu tu re h isto ry is n o t determ ined
and thus its form s are s till u nkn ow n, i f consciousness cannot tra n s­
cend the horizons o f its sociohistorical context, then where else but
to the dead past can im a g in a tio n tu rn in o rd er to conceptualize a
w o rld th a t is “ n o t-y e t” ? M oreo ver, such a move its e lf satisfies a
u to p ia n w ish: the desire (m anifested in the religious m y th o f
aw akening the dead) “ to m ake [p ast] suffering in to som ething
in c o m p le te ,” 69 to m ake good an u n fu lfille d past th a t has been i r ­
re trie v a b ly lost.
T h e so cialist tra n sfo rm a tio n o f the superstructure, w h ic h begins
w ith in ca p ita lism u nd er the im p a c t o f in d u s tria l technology, in ­
cludes redeem ing the past, in a process th a t is tenuous, u n d e te r­
m in ed , and large ly unconscious. As a result o f the d is to rtio n s o f
c a p ita lis t social relations, the progressive and retrogressive m o­
m ents o f th is process are n o t easily discerned. O ne o f the tasks th a t
B e n ja m in believed to be his own in the Passagen-Werk was to make
b o th tendencies o f the process visible retrospectively. H e traces
th e ir o rigin s to the forcefield between a rt and technology, w h ic h in
the nineteenth ce ntu ry became falsely perceived as o p p o sitio n a l
camps, w ith the result th a t even attem pts to reconcile them p ro ­
duced re a ctio n a ry c u ltu ra l form s.

T h e re la tio n sh ip between a rt and technology is a ce ntral them e

in the Passagen-Werk. T h e 1935 expose presents this re la tio n s h ip
in a p ro g ra m m a tic w a y ,70 o u tlin in g specifically the im p a c t in
_125_______________________________

5 M yth ic Nature: Wish Image

the n ineteenth ce ntu ry o f p ho to g ra p h y on a rt, engineering on

a rch itectu re, and mass jo u rn a lis m on lite ra ry p ro d u c tio n .71 T h e re­
s u lt is an o rig in a l c o n trib u tio n to M a rx is t th e o ry ,72 suggesting not
m erely the gro un d fo r a m a te ria lis t aesthetics and sociology o f a rt
(alth ou gh b o th are im p lie d ). I t identifies a s tru c tu ra l tra n sfo rm a ­
tio n in the re la tio n sh ip o f consciousness to re a lity — specifically,
fantasy to p ro d u ctive forces— th a t has general theoretical s ig n i­
ficance, and th a t is capable o f in fo rm in g every sort o f c ritic a l c u ltu ­
ra l practice. I t could be said th a t fo r B e nja m in progressive c u ltu ra l
p ractice entails b rin g in g both technology and im a g in a tio n o u t o f
th e ir m y th ic dream states, th ro u g h m a kin g conscious the collec­
tiv e ’s desire fo r social u top ia, and the p o te n tia l o f the new n atu re to
achieve it by tra n s la tin g th a t desire in to the “ new language” o f its
m a te ria l form s. B e nja m in w rites th a t in the nineteenth century, the
developm ent o f the technical forces o f p ro d u c tio n “ em ancipated
the creative form s ( Gestaltungsformen) fro m a rt, ju s t as in the
sixteenth ce ntu ry the sciences libe ra te d themselves from
p h ilo s o p h y .” 73 T h is is q u ite an e x tra o rd in a ry claim . I t im p lie s th a t,
ju s t as reason ( “ the sciences” ), once h aving become secularized
( “ libe ra te d fro m p h ilo so p h y” ), became free to be applied in -
s tru m e n ta lly to processes o f social p ro d u ctio n , so im a g in a tio n , in ­
spired by “ the creative fo rm s” o f technology and d ive rted from
p u re ly aesthetic goals (th a t is, “ em ancipated fro m a rt” ), can be
a pplied to the task o f co nstructin g a new basis fo r collective social
life.
P reviously, bourgeois a rt had a p p ro p ria te d the im a g in a tiv e d is­
covery o f new form s as its ow n te rra in , defined by the ve ry fact o f its
separation fro m social re a lity . F o llo w in g A d o rn o , one can argue
th a t this separation was beneficial, sustaining a pow er o f im a g in a ­
tio n th a t, because it was able to resist the given state o f things, was
the source o f the u to p ia n im pulse in trin s ic to bourgeois a rt. O n one
level, B e n ja m in surely w o u ld n o t disagree. Y e t he w o u ld insist th a t
the “ a uto no m y o f a rt” becomes a h o llo w phrase in lig h t o f the
trem endous c re a tiv ity o f in d u s tria l p ro d u c tio n w h ich its e lf con­
sta n tly revolutionizes re a lity ’ s m a te ria l form s. In an a rg um en t
absolutely dependent on M a rx is t th eo re tica l claim s (yet w ith o u t
precedent in M a r x ’s ow n theory o f the c u ltu ra l s u pe rstru cture 74),
B e n ja m in was suggesting th a t the objective (and progressive)
tendency o f in d u s tria lis m is to fuse a rt and technology, fantasy and
126
Part I I

fu n c tio n , m ea nin gfu l sym bol and useful tool, and th a t this fusion is,
indeed, the ve ry essence o f socialist cu lture.
I t is im p o rta n t to emphasize th a t B e nja m in understood the
synthesis o f technology and a rt as a s tru c tu ra l tendency, n o t
synonym ous w ith h is to ry ’ s a ctua l course. In fact the nineteenth
ce n tu ry witnessed an in s titu tio n a liz a tio n o f the s p lit between tech­
n ology and a rt to a degree p re vio u sly u n kn o w n in h is to ry . T h is
s p lit was s trik in g ly m anifested in the establishm ent (in 1794) o f
VEcole polytechnique as separate from , and m oreover in riv a lry w ith ,
rEcole des beaux arts. T h e fo rm e r tra in e d builders and “ engineers” 73
fo r the co n stru ctio n o f in d u s tria l edifices, naval ships and m ilita ry
fo rtific a tio n s .76 T h e la tte r tra in e d a rtists and “ d ecorators,” 77 whose
w o rk was valued precisely because it refused to subject aesthetic
im a g in a tio n to fu n c tio n a l purposes.78 In this sp lit, a rch ite ctu re fe ll
to VEcole des beaux arts, a fa ct th a t “ ‘w orked to its d e trim e n t.’ ” 79
Previously, a rch ite ctu re had inclu de d the science o f engineering.80
O f a ll the arts, i t had been “ [ . . . ] the earliest to g ro w away fro m
the concept o f a rt, o r b e tte r said, [ . . . ] it least tolerated the view
th a t i t was “ a rt,” a view w h ic h the nineteenth ce ntu ry forced upon
the p roducts o f in te lle c tu a l a c tiv ity to a degree p re vio u sly u n ­
im a gin ed , yet w ith no m ore ju s tific a tio n than before.” 81
T h e a rc h ite c tu ra l style o f the Paris arcades was e m b le m atic o f
the w a rrin g tendencies o f engineering and “ a rt.” D e m a n d in g the
skills o f both, it was recognized by n e ith e r Ecole as an object w o rth y
o f in s tru c tio n .82 O n the one hand, the continuous glass roofs th a t
became th e ir h a llm a rk in the 1820s were te chn olo gica lly advanced
s k y lig h tin g constructions; on the o ther, the in te rio r “ w a lls ” o f th e ir
shop galleries were the m ost d e riva tive o rn am en ta l facades, replete
w ith neoclassical colum ns, arches, and pedim ents th a t were the
epitom e o f a rc h ite c tu ra l “ good taste.” As d ia le c tic a l images, the
arcades thus had a “ h e rm a p h ro d itic p o s itio n ,” 83 fusing the
tw o tendencies w h ich elsewhere developed in to ta l, and hostile,
iso la tio n .
I t was the engineers w ho, together w ith w orkers, gave shape to
the “ new ” n a tu re o f in d u s tria l form s: ra ilro a d s,84 m achines,85 and
bridges. B e n ja m in cites S igfried G ie dion : “ ‘ I t should be noted th a t
the m arvelous aspects w h ic h the new co nstructio n o ut o f iro n
afforded the cities [ . . . ] fo r a long tim e were accessible to w orkers
and engineers e xclu sively.’ ” 86 S h aring G ie d io n ’s enthusiasm fo r
127

5 M y t h ic N a tu re : W is h Im a g e

5.4 Pont Transbordcur, M arseilles, b u ilt 1905.

these “ m arvelous a sp e cts/’ B e nja m in contrasts the “ o rn am en ta l

style ” o f the architects (w h ich he connects w ith “ b oredom ” 87) to
G ie d io n ’ s “ excellent exam ples” o f bridge scaffolding. R eferring to
G ie d io n ’s p h o to g ra p h o f the Pont T ra n s b o rd e u r in M arseilles
(fig u re 5.4), he w rites the w ord: “ M a rx is m . F or w ho else b u t
engineers and p ro le ta ria ns at th a t tim e took the steps th a t alone
revealed fu lly th a t w h ic h was new and decisive about these con­
structio ns, the feeling o f space?” 88
T h ro u g h o u t the nineteenth century, the “ fine a r t” o f a rc h i­
tecture defensively held its e lf back fro m engineering inn ova tion s:
“ ‘Those whose aesthetic conscience was p a rtic u la rly sensitive
h u rle d o u t fro m the a lta r o f a rt curse after curse upon the b u ild ­
in g engineers.’ ” 89 T h e accepted n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry a rc h ite c tu ra l
“ s ty le ” rem ained o riented to w ard the p re in d u s tria l past, and
the m ost respected style was neoclassicism. “ ‘ In the nineteenth
century ancient Greek architecture again bloomed in its old p u rity ’ ”
— at least so it appeared to w ha t Benjam in called the “ vu lg ar con­
sciousness” o f the tim e .90 W hen iro n was used fo r scaffolding, it
was given a “ stone coverin g ” 91 so th a t it was visible o n ly from the
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Part I I

5.5 M a in Reading Room, Bibliotheque N ationalc, b u ilt by H enri Labrouste, 1868 (top).

5.6 Avenue de l ’Opera, late nineteenth century (bottom ).

129___________________________________________________________________________
5 M y th ic Nature: W ish Image

in te rio r (figu re 5.5), o r used o n ly fo r decorative effect. “ ‘H e n ri

Lab ro uste, a rtis t o f restrained and austere talents, inaug ura ted
successfully the orn am en ta l use o f iro n in the co nstructio n o f the
B ib lio th e q u e Sainte-Genevieve [1850s] and the B ib lio th e q u e
N a tio n a le [1 860s].’ ” 92 O n e xte rio r facades (figu re 5.6), iro n was
used in co ntinuous balconies as surface design in d ire c t c o n tra d ic ­
tio n to the new p o te n tia l fo r v e rtic a lity , illu s tra tin g “ the tendency,
again and again in the nineteenth century, to ennoble technical
exigencies w ith a rtis tic a im s.” 93

“ The sensitivities o f [architects] demanded that the ever-stronger hori­

zontal tendency o f the house. . . come to expression. . . And they found
the means in connection with the traditional iron balcony. They intro­
duced it on one or two floors over the whole w idth o f the front [. . .].
When house appeared next to house, these balcony gratings fused into one
another and strengthened the impression o f a street wall [. . . ] . ” 94

Iro n , kn ow n to h u m a n kin d since p re h isto ry, was ra p id ly tran s­

form ed fro m “ ‘cast iro n to w ro u g h t iro n to in g o t s te e l/” dem on­
s tra tin g its “ ‘ u n lim ite d p o ssib ilitie s.’ ” 95 E xclaim ed B enja m in :
“ Iro n as re v o lu tio n a ry b u ild in g m a te ria l!” 96 B u t architects, s till
tra in e d in the tra d itio n o f A lb e rti, b ro u g h t to any “ a rtific ia l” form
o f iro n “ ‘a certa in m istru st precisely because it was not im m e d ia te ­
ly present in n a tu re .’ ” 97 M oreo ver, they polem icized against the
m athem atics o f static physics th a t was the essential tool o f en­
gineers, c la im in g m athem atics was “ ‘powerless to assure the
s o lid a rity o f b u ild in g s .’ ” 98
O stracized from the dictates o f “ good taste,” engineering sub­
m itte d to the dictates o f p ra ctica l use.99 “ ‘T h e source o f a il
a rch ite ctu re o u t o f iro n and glass in the co nte m p o ra ry sense is the
greenhouse.’ ” 100 Such “ houses fo r p la n ts” were the model for Pax­
to n ’s p la n o f the C rysta l Palace (executed by engineers ra th e r th an
a rc h ite c ts ).101 Subsequent exposition halls im ita te d P a xto n ’s de­
sign, as m e ta p h o rica l “ hothouses” fo r the new m a c h in e ry .102 I t was
in b u ild in g s fo r the new mass cu ltu re th a t the p rin c ip le o f iro n and
glass co n stru ctio n p ro life ra te d , at firs t “ ‘ und er the banner o f p u re ly
u tilita ria n b u ild in g s ’ ” : “ iro n h a lls” were b u ilt as warehouses,
w orkshops, and fa cto ries,103 covered m arketplaces (Les H alles) and
ra ilro a d stations ( Garde de UEst). As p ra ctica l, p ro tective shelters for
a mass p u b lic , iro n halls w ell suited the “ ‘need fo r unbroken
space,” ’ 104 because o f the expanse such co nstructio n allow ed. Ben-
130

P a rt I I

5.7 Camera by Bourguin in the shape o f a truncated pyram id, flanked by bronze dragons
that serve only to make the apparatus heavier and more ornate, Paris, ca. 1844

ja m in noted th a t these b u ild in g s were connected w ith transitoriness

in b o th the sp atia l sense (as ra ilro a d stations, places o f tra n s it) and
the te m p ora l one (as galleries fo r w o rld expositions, ty p ic a lly to rn
d ow n after they closed).
Spared the self-conscious m ed ia tio n o f “ a rt,” such structures
setded into the collective im agination in an unconscious form , as
b u ild in g s fo r use ra th e r th a n c o n te m p la tio n — a t least fo r a tim e.
U ltim a te ly , iro n and glass co nstructio n , h aving bowed to the c h a l­
lenge o f a rch ite ctu ra l style, its e lf became one, and began (p re d ic t­
a b ly ) to th in k o f e m u la tin g the past:

“ By 1878, it was believed that salvation could be found in iron

architecture: Its vertical aspiration [. . . ] the preference for over-filled
spaces and the lightness o f the visible skeleton fanned hopes in the b irth o f
a style that would revive the essence o f Gothic genius [. . . ] . ” 105

T h e 1889 Paris E xp o sitio n was heralded as the “ ‘triu m p h o f

iro n .’ ” 106 B u ilt fo r it was the G a lle ry o f M achines (d ism a n tle d in
1910 “ ‘o u t o f a rtis tic sadism ’ ” 107) and the Eiffel T o w e r, the la t­
te r an “ in co m p a ra b le ” m o n u m e n t to the new “ heroic age o f
te chn olo gy,” 108 w h ich su rvived after the close o f the fa ir because o f
131

5 M y t h ic N a tu re : W is h Im a g e

5.8 Photograph o f the Ingres Gallery o f Painting, Exposition Univcrselle, Paris, 1855

its u tility as a tow er for wireless tra n sm issio n .109 Assem bled by
riv e tin g together sectional iro n pieces, the E iffel T o w e r, fo r a ll its
lacelike effects, em ployed the same p rin c ip le o f co nstructio n as r a il­
road tracks, and a nticipa te d skyscrapers d ire c tly .110 “ M o d e rn is m ”
in a rch ite ctu re had arrived . T h e E iffel T o w e r was an enorm ous
p o p u la r success; b u t s till the “ a rtis ts ” protested:

“ W e come, w riters, painters, sculptors, a rch ite cts. . . in the name o f

French a rt and history that are both threatened, to protest against the
erection in the very heart o f o u r capital o f the needless and monstrous
Eiffel T o w e r. . .overw helm ing w ith its barbarous mass N otre Dame, the
Sainte-Chapelle, the T o u r Saint-Jacques, all our monuments h u m iliated,
a ll our architectural works dim in ish e d .” 111

T h e in v e n tio n o f p ho tog rap hy, w ith its exact ren de rin g o f nature,
enabled technology to overtake artists at th e ir ow n task, and u nd e r­
m ined the uniqueness, the o ne -tim e-o nly “ a u ra ” o f the m asterpiece
by a llo w in g fo r the mass re p ro d u ctio n o f images.
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Part I I

T h e firs t in te rn a tio n a l e xposition at w h ich p h o to g ra p h y was ex­

h ib ite d was held in 1855 in P a ris.112 T h e in v e n tio n o f p h o to g ra p h y
was pre figu re d in the 1820s by the dioram as, those glassed-in,
th ree-dim ensional scenes o f figures in a re a listic se tting w h ic h , “ by
means o f technical a rtific e ,” atte m p ted “ a perfect im ita tio n o f
n a tu re ,” in c lu d in g the te m p o ra l m ovem ent o f changing d a y lig h t,
sunsets, o r a ris in g m o o n .113 T h e dioram as m im icke d re a lity so
successfully th a t the p a in te r D a v id urged his students to m ake
studies o f n atu re fro m th e m .114 D ioram as (and subsequent cosmo-
ram as, pleoram as, panoram as, and d ia p h a n o ra m a s,115 as w ell
as w ax-figu re ca b in e ts)116 were the “ too e a rly” precursors o f
photography117 and film 118 ju s t as the arcades (in w hich they were
frequently found) were too early anticipations o f m odem arch i­
tecture. “Ju st as architecture begins to outgrow a rt w ith iro n
construction, so p aintin g does the same through the panoram as.” 119
B e n ja m in appreciated the lith o g ra p h e r A . J . W ie rtz , whose early
essay on p h o to g ra p h y “ ascribes to i t the p h ilo s o p h ic a l e n lig h te n ­
m en t o f p a in tin g [ . . . ] in a p o litic a l sense” : images become in te l­
le c tu a lly reflective and th ereb y “ a g ita tio n a l.” 120 W ie rtz w rote:
“ ‘ D o n o t th in k th a t daguerreotype k ills a rt. N o, i t k ills the w o rk o f
patience; it renders hom age to the w o rk o f th o u g h t,5” and he car­
rie d this p rin c ip le over in to his ow n w o rk, b elieving th a t u ltim a te ly
p h o to g ra p h y and a rt w o u ld w o rk to g e th e r.121
W ith p h o to g ra p h y, the a rtis t’s a tte m p t to rep lica te n a tu re was
m ade scie n tific .122 I t extended the h um an sense o f s ig h t in a w ay
com m ensurate w ith M a r x ’s idea in the 1844, “ E co no m ic and P h ilo ­
sophic M a n u s c rip ts ” th a t the h um an senses in th e ir “ ‘ true, a n th ro ­
p olog ical [i.e ., social] n a tu re ’ ” are “ ‘n a tu re as it comes to be
th ro u g h in d u s try ,’ ” 123 even i f such nature, due to “ ‘p riv a te p ro p e r­
ty ,’ ” now exists o n ly in “ ‘alienated fo rm .’ ” 124 T h a t the “ ‘h u m a n
eye’ ” perceives .differently th a n the “ ‘ crude, n o n h u m a n eye’ ” 125 is
dem onstrated by p h o to g ra p h y, presenting to o u r v isio n new d is­
coveries a bo ut natu re , and n o t m erely b e a u tifu l images. Francois
A ra go , speaking in the 1850s on the place o f p h o to g ra p h y in the
h is to ry o f technology, “ prophesizes its scien tific a p p lic a tio n —
w hereupon the a rtists [p re d ic ta b ly m issing the p o in t] begin to
debate its a rtis tic va lu e .” 126
P hotog ra p hy secularized the im age by b rin g in g i t up close. O n
the p h o to g ra p h y e x h ib it o f the 1855 Paris E xp o sitio n :
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5 M yth ic Nature: W ish Image

“ T h e p u b lic crow de d in to the e x h ib itio n s , s ta n d in g before countless p o r­

tra its o f fam ous and celebrated pe rson alities, and one can im a g in e w h a t it
m e a n t in th a t epoch th a t one co u ld see the fam ed personages o f the
th e a tre , the p o d iu m , in sh o rt o f p u b lic life , at w h o m u n til n o w one had
o n ly been able to gaze in w o n d e r fro m a d ista n ce .” 127

F ro m the s ta rt, p ho tog rap hy was p a rt o f p o p u la r cu ltu re . Pioneers

lik e N a d a r expanded its subject m atter, ta k in g a h undred expo­
sures o f P a ris’ catacombs and sewers,128 and in c lu d in g a ll social
classes and ranks in his p o rtra itu re .129 T h e p h o to g ra p h ic m ethod
encouraged the p ractice o f am ateurs, so th a t the line between a rtis t
and p u b lic began to b lu r. A ra go reported to the C h a m b e r in 1851
on the effects o f the in ve n tio n :

“ ‘ [ . . . T ]h e o p tic ia n s ’ shops were besieged; there were n o t enough lenses,

n o t enough d a rk room s to satisfy the zeal o f so m a n y eager am ateurs. T h e
sun s in k in g on the h o riz o n was fo llo w e d w ith a gaze o f reg ret, ta k in g w ith
i t the ra w m a te ria l o f the exp e rim e n t. B u t on the fo llo w in g da y you cou ld
see g re a t n u m b e rs o f exp erim e nters at th e ir w in d o w s in the firs t ho urs o f
d a y lig h t, s triv in g w ith every k in d o f nervous p re c a u tio n to in du ce o n to the
p re p a re d plaq ues im ages o f the n e a rb y d o rm e r w in d o w , o r the vie w o f a
p o p u la tio n o f ch im n e y s .’ ” 130

P h otog ra p hy dem ocratized the reception o f visu a l images by b rin g ­

in g even a rt masterpieces to a mass audience.131 B e nja m in believed
this d e m o cra tiza tio n o f p ro d u c tio n and reception as w e ll as the
n o n -“ a u ra tic ,” scien tific approach to objects were tendencies in ­
trin s ic to the m e d iu m ,132 and he considered them progressive.133
Because p h o to g ra p h y in tru d e d so decisively upon the im age p re ­
serve o f p ainters, it in e v ita b ly challenged and changed the w ay the
la tte r w e n t a b o u t th e ir w o rk. A ra g o w rote:

“ W h o e v e r has ju s t once in his life covered his sk in w ith the m a g ic cloak o f

p h o to g ra p h y and peered in to the cam era in o rd e r to see there those
w o n d e rfu l m in ia tu re re p ro d u c tio n s o f n a tu ra l im ages m u st have been
. . . s tru c k b y the qu e stio n o f w h a t, indeed, w ill o u r m o d e rn p a in tin g come
to once p h o to g ra p h y has succeeded in fix in g colors ju s t as p e rm a n e n tly as
it n o w does fo rm s .” 134

Defenders o f artists insisted th a t it was “ impossible for a hum an

countenance to be captured by m ach in e .” 135 Y e t p o rtra its were
precisely the genre m ost vu ln era ble to the encroachm ents o f p h o to ­
gra p h y, even i f they changed w h a t such p o rtra its recorded: “ W h a t
makes the firs t photographs so in co m p a ra ble is perhaps this: th a t
134

Part II

they represent the firs t im age o f the encounter o f m achine and h u ­

m an being.” 136 A rtis ts asserted the s u p e rio rity o f th e ir trade, b u t
th e ir unconscious response was an acknow ledgm ent o f v u ln e ra b il­
ity . “ A p p a re n t sym ptom o f a ra d ica l displacem ent [Verschiebung]:
p a in tin g m ust p u t up w ith being ju d g e d by the sta nd ard o f
p h o to g ra p h y.” 137 A rtis ts began to move in d irectio n s in w h ic h
p ho to g ra p h y could n o t (yet) compete:

The paintings o f Delacroix avoid competition w ith photography not only

by their power o f color but— there was then no action photography— by
the stormy movement o f their subjects. Thus it was possible for him to be
kindly disposed toward photography.138

A n d subsequently: “ As Im pre ssio nism gives w ay to C u b ism , p a in t­

in g has created a d o m a in in to w h ich p ho to g ra p h y at the outset
cannot fo llo w .” 139
T h u s painters a tte m p ted to defend themselves against the new
technology. T h e y thereby missed the real th re a t to th e ir c u ltu ra l
c re a tiv ity , the effects o f the c a p ita lis t m arket. A lre a d y in the e arly
arcades, the w in d o w arrangem ents o f com m odities “ d isplayed a rt
in service o f the salesm an.” 140 In the course o f his research,
B e nja m in found a lith o g ra p h d e p ictin g the b e g in nin g o f a rt as
a dvertising:

[. . . ] a painter who makes his way forward w ith two yard-long, narrow
planks, on each o f which he has painted several garnishings and arrange­
ments o f meat products. T itle: “ Misery and the arts.” “ Dedicated to
Monsieur the Butcher.” Caption: “ The man o f art w ithin the impedi­
ments o f his trade.” 141

A n o th e r showed the p ro le ta ria n iz a tio n o f a rtis tic p ro d u c tio n in

term s o f w o rke r e xp lo ita tio n :

Lithograph: A poor devil looks on sadly as a young man signs the picture
that the former has painted. T itle: “ The artist and the amateur o f the
nineteenth century.” Caption: “ I t is by me, seeing that I sign it.” 142

D ue to the d is to rtin g effects o f c a p ita lis t social relations, the mass

c u ltu re in w h ich a rt and technology converged d id so to the d e tri­
m ent o f b oth . O n the side o f a rt, p ro d u ctio n m ethods began to
resemble those o f any co m m o d ity: N eeding to compete w ith p h o to ­
g raphy, a rtists were forced to speed up p ro d u ctio n , m im ic m echa­
nized re p ro d u ctio n by hand, and tu rn o u t “ in d iv id u a l” p o rtra its
w ith a ra p id ity th a t rendered o n ly w h a t was ty p ic a l a bo ut the sub-
135

5 M ythic Nature: Wish Image

5.9 Studio photograph o f W alter Benjam in and his brother George as “ A lpin ists,’
ca. 1900.
136

Part I I

je c t, w h ile the new style o f “ genre p a in tin g s ” was based on the

concept o f re p e a ta b ility. O n the side o f p h o to g ra p h y (w h ic h in p o r­
tra itu re clearly had the co m p e titive edge143) the lim itle s s re p ro d u c ­
tio n o f images extended the sphere o f m arket society “ e n o rm o u sly,”
w h ic h in tu rn encouraged “ m odish va ria tio n s o f cam era te c h n i­
ques” in o rd e r to increase sales.144 M oreo ver, the retrogressive
canons o f a rtis tic style induced photographers to be m ore “ p a in te r­
ly ” in th e ir images (figu re 5.9), p la cin g subjects before “ p ic tu re s ­
q ue ,” backdrops, u tiliz in g props, and reto uch ing and otherw ise
“ e m b e llish in g ” the im age in the nam e o f aesthetic sta n d a rd s .145

N ow here were the d is to rtin g effects o f c a p ita lism clearer th a n in the

realm o f lite ra ry p ro d u c tio n . H ere the th re a t to tra d itio n a l a rt

5.10 “ L ite ratu re being reeled o ff and sold in chunks” — G randville, 1844.
137

5 M ythic Nature: Wish Image

form s came fro m the technology o f ra p id p rin tin g ,146 and fro m
the jo u rn a lis tic style that emerged as the consequence o f the
m u sh ro o m in g o f mass newspapers. In “ T h e A u th o r as P ro du cer”
(1 9 3 4 ),147 B e n ja m in describes the p o te n tia l effects o f new lite ra ry
technologies m a kin g it clear th a t he considers them progressive in
the p o litic a l sense because they tend to create a dem ocratic fo ru m
fo r in fo rm a tio n and low er the b o u n d a ry between lite ra ry p roducer
and audience148; and because they destroy the old n otio n o f in d i­
v id u a l a rtis tic genius and com pleted, self-contained “ w o rk s ,” re­
p la c in g the concept o f the “ m asterpiece” w ith a p o litic a l n o tio n o f
w ritin g as “ in te rv e n tio n ” w h ich has an “ o rg a n izin g fu n c tio n .” 149
T h e w r ite r ’s m ost im p o rta n t strategic task is less to fill the new
lite ra ry forms w ith revolutionary content than to develop the rev­
o lu tio n a ry p o te n tia l o f the form s themselves. So long as the mass
press “ s till belongs to c a p ita l,” how ever, this task is rid d le d w ith
“ inso lub le a n tin o m ie s.” 150 “ T h e new spaper is the scene o f this
lite ra ry co nfu sion .” 131 C a p ita lis t jo u rn a lis m com m odifies w ritin g ,
tre a tin g i t as a p ro d u c t to be consumed by a passive audience. In a
context w here the tra d itio n a l standards o f “ lite ra tu re ” are stu b ­
b o rn ly clun g to, the result is a “ decline o f w ritin g ,” a “ debasement
o f the w o rd .” 152 B u t in the “ unselective” assem bling o f readers and
facts, and by needing to cater to the “ sm oldering im p atie n ce ” o f
the readers w ho, “ excluded, believe th a t they have the rig h t to
speak o u t in th e ir ow n interests,” 153 a “ d ia le ctica l m om ent is con­
cealed: T h e decline o f w ritin g in the bourgeois press proves to be
the source o f its regeneration u nd er socialism .” 154 B e nja m in defines
the s itu a tio n o f the socialist press (eq ua ting it w ith the a c tu a lly
e xistin g press in the Soviet U n io n ) as one in w h ic h the w orker, as
“ e x p e rt,” becomes lite ra te in an active sense. H e o r she “ gains ac­
cess to a u th o rs h ip ,” the q u a lifica tio n s fo r w h ich thus become “ p u b ­
lic p ro p e rty ” ; “ liv in g c o n d itio n s” themselves become “ lite ra tu re ,”
w h ile the la tte r loses relevance as a p u re ly aesthetic fo rm .155
T h e Passagen-Werk m a te ria l gives evidence fro m the early years o f
in d u s tria l ca p ita lism o f b oth positive and negative poles o f this d i­
alectic as they appear, fu lly entangled, in the h isto ric a l phenom ena
themselves. B e n ja m in is p a rtic u la rly concerned w ith the tran s­
fo rm a tio n o f lite ra ry w orks in to co m m o d itie s,156 and the effects o f
c a p ita lis t relations on the p ro d u c tio n process. H e finds p ro to ty p ic a l
the p ro d u c tio n inn ova tion s o f the d ra m a tis t Eugene Scribe:
138
Part I I

“ W hile he made fun of the great industrialists and men of money, he

learned from them the secret o f their success. It did not escape his sharp
eye that all wealth in essence rests on the art o f having others work for us
and thus, a pathbreaking genius, he transferred the fundamental principle
o f the division o f labor from the workshops of fashion tailors, cabinet­
makers, and steel-spring factories, into studios for the dramatic artist,
who before this reform, w ith one head and one pen, still only earned the
proletarian salary o f an isolated worker.” 157

B u t regardless o f salary, the w rite rs w ith in these stu dio w orkshops

were “ p ro le ta ria n ” now in the lite ra l sense o f the w o rd , as they had
lost co n tro l over the p ro d u c tio n apparatus. A n d i f salaries o f
w o rk e r-w rite rs rose, S cribe ’s w ea lth as the ow ner o f th e ir la b o r
pow er grew e xpo ne ntia lly:

Scribe chose the material, he ordered the plot in its broad outlines, in d i­
cated the special effects and b rillia n t exits, and his apprentices set dia­
logue or small verses thereto. I f they made progress, then naming their
name in the title (next to that o f the firm ) was their adequate payment,
u ntil the best o f them became independent and produced works w ith their
own hand, perhaps also attaching new helpers to themselves. Thus, and
w ith the protection o f the French publishing laws, Scribe became a m il­
lionaire several times over.158

A le xa n d re D um as, s im ila rly , was less a novelist th a n the o w n er o f a

“ fa cto ry o f novels” 159 in w h ic h o th e r w rite rs mass produced “ h is ”
w orks. D um as boasted o f p ro d u cin g fo u r h u n d re d novels and
th irty -fiv e dram as in tw e n ty years, in a process th a t “ ‘p e rm itte d
8,160 persons to earn a liv e lih o o d .’ ” 160

“ Who knows the titles o f all the books M . Dumas has signed his name to?
Does he know them himself? I f he doesn’t keep a double register w ith
debits and credits, he has no doubt forgotten. . . more than one o f those
children for whom he is the legal father or natural father, or godfather.
The productions o f these last months have not been less than th irty
volumes.” 161

Before m id -c e n tu ry , newspapers were s till too expensive to a llo w

fo r mass readership.

Because o f the rareness o f newspapers, one read them in groups at the

cafes. Otherwise they could be obtained only by subscription, which cost
80 francs per year. In 1824 the twelve most widely distributed newspapers
had altogether about 56,000 subscriptions. Indeed, the liberals as well as
the royalists were interested in keeping the lower classes away from
newspapers.162
139
5 M ythic Nature: Wish Image

I n 1828, jo u rn a ls were firs t b ro u g h t w ith in the grasp o f the low er

classes, a p o te n tia lly d em ocratic change163 th a t was, however,
made possible by precisely th a t force w h ic h began to tran sfo rm
news in fo rm a tio n in to a co m m o d ity: p a id advertising. A t firs t it
was lite ra tu re its e lf th a t was advertised, in the fo rm o f u nsolicited
lite ra ry review s.164 T h e n ext step was to generalize the p rin c ip le :

The thought o f using a newspaper insert to advertise not only books but
industrial products, was that o f a certain D r. Veron, who did so well in
this way w ith his pate de Regnauld, a cold medicine, that on an investment
o f 17,000 francs he received a return o f 100,000.165

A lo n g w ith a dve rtisin g inserts and single issue sales, the e d ito r
E m ile de G ira d in in tro d u ce d the “ fe u ille to n ,” a special section in
mass newspapers fo r lite ra tu re and reviews in w h ic h novels
appeared se ria lly p rio r to th e ir p u b lic a tio n as books.166 T h is fo r­
m at, a long w ith the lite ra ry periodicals and reviews th a t p ro life r­
ated b y m id -c e n tu ry ,167 had sig n ifica n t repercussions on lite ra ry
fo rm , re su ltin g in essay treatm ents, sh ort stories, o r serial novels.
U n d e r c a p ita lis t relations, style adapted to the exigencies o f the
m ed iu m : “ T h e re were fe u ille to n h o n o ra ria o f up to 2 francs per
line. M a n y authors w ro te ju s t dialogue as m uch as possible, in
o rd e r to m ake m oney on the p a rtia lly e m pty lines.5’ 168
T h e new mass readership d re w authors in to n a tio n a l p o litic s as
w e ll.169 B e n ja m in searches o u t the o rigin s o f this phenom enon, u n i­
que in o u r ow n era, w hereby c u ltu ra l producers, as p o p u la r enter­
tainers, became mass p o litic ia n s (L a m a rtin e , C ha te au brian d, Sue,
H u g o ), n o t always (o r indeed n o t u sua lly) w ith the m ost e n lig h t­
ened results. T h e p h ilo so p h ica l id e a lis m 170 entrenched in bourgeois
lite ra tu re ca rried over in to p o litic a l positions. Balzac “ ‘deplored
the d o w n fa ll o f the B ourbons, w h ich signified to h im the loss o f the
a rts ,5” 171 and advocated peasant “ so cia lism ” along the lines o f a
reestablished fe u d a lism .172 C h a te a u b ria n d made the p o litic a l
stance o f “ ‘vague sadness5” a fa sh io n .173 L a m a rtin e exhorted
p atriotism over socialism ,174 em ploying his poetic rhetoric for
n a tio n a lis t g lo rific a tio n “ ‘ as i f he had made i t his jo b ,5” so one
c o n te m p o ra ry c riticize d h im , “ ‘to prove the tru th o f P la to ’s state­
m ent th a t poets should be th ro w n o u t o f the R e p u b lic [ . . . ] . 555175
Those authors firs t in a p o sitio n to speak to the masses d id not
speak fo r the masses,176 at least n o t in a w ay th a t w o u ld make it
140

Part I I

possible fo r them to understand th e ir objective h is to ric a l situ a tio n ,

because as w rite rs, they d id n ot understand th e ir own. V ic to r
H ug o, whose fic tio n docum ented accurately the suffering o f the
u rb a n p o o r,177 is exem plary. A lth o u g h in N ove m b e r 1848, H ug o
cast his vote against G eneral C avig na c’s repression o f the w o rk e rs ’
Ju n e re v o lt,178 he subsequently voted “ ‘consistently w ith the
r ig h t” ,” ’ 179 and gave his “ enthusiastic endorsem ent” to L o u is
N apoleon as p re sid e ntia l ca n d id a te ,180 h op in g (in v a in ) to become
the la tte r’s M in is te r o f E d u c a tio n .181 E q u a tin g w ords themselves
w ith re v o lu tio n ,182 H u g o exem plified the new significance o f lite ra ­
tu re fo r p o litic a l propaganda as an aspect o f the pha nta sm ag oria o f
mass p olitics. H is u n re lia b le p o litic a l ju d g m e n t was n o t u n iq u e
am ong w rite rs .B a lz a c , an opponent o f the b re aku p o f landed
estates, saw no o th e r cure fo r petty-bourgeois h o a rd in g th a n the
c o n tra d ic to ry p osition o f tu rn in g them in to sm all la n d h o ld e rs .183
A le xan dre D um as was offered m oney by the gove rn m e nt in 1846 to
go to A lg ie rs and w rite a book th a t w o u ld spread am ong his five
m illio n F rench readers “ ‘a taste fo r c o lo n iza tio n .’ ” 184 L a m a rtin e ,
m oved to p ro vid e the masses w ith the rh e to ric o f “ ‘ a single ide a,’ ‘a
c o n v ic tio n ’ ” around w h ic h they could r a lly ,185 placed his lite ra ry
skills at the services o f the state. T h e co gnitive stren gth o f these
w rite rs was lim ite d to d escrib ing social appearances, n o t u ncover­
in g the social tendencies th a t u nd erlay them , and th a t were affect­
in g th e ir ow n co nd itio ns o f p ro d u ctio n so deeply.
O ne has o n ly to regard the fo rm a t o f a n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry news­
paper (figure 5.11), in w h ic h the fe u ille to n occupied the b o tto m
q u a rte r o f the fro n t page, to see, lite ra lly , how th in was the line
between p o litic a l fact and lite ra ry fic tio n . News stories were lite ra ry
constructions; fe u ille to n novelists used news stories as content. T h e
tendency o f mass m edia is to render the d is tin c tio n between a rt and
p o litics meaningless. B e n ja m in was v ita lly concerned w ith w h a t
happens w hen the tw o realm s merge, as he believed they were
bound to, due to the “ [ . . . ] massive m e ltin g -d o w n process o f lite r ­
a ry form s, a process in w h ic h m any o f the oppositions in w h ic h we
have been accustomed to th in k m ay lose th e ir relevance.” 186 A t
issue is n o t w he th er the lin e is crossed, b u t how. B e n ja m in sees tw o
possibilities: E ith e r (as was the case w ith L a m a rtin e , H u g o , etc.),
the new technologies o f lite ra ry re p ro d u ctio n are used by w rite rs as
the means fo r a rh e to ric a l representation o f re a lity th a t slips in to
 M -l_______________________________
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5.1 1 F ro n t page o f Le Petit Journal, S epte m be r 24, 1869.

142

Part I I

p o litic a l p ro p a g a n d a ,187 or, by focusing on these new technological

form s themselves, w rite rs begin to illu m in a te b o th th e ir em ancipa­
to ry p o te n tia l, and the p o litic a l rea litie s th a t presently d is to rt th e ir
effects. T h e choice is between sw aying the p u b lic o r edu catin g it,
between p o litic a l m a n ip u la tio n o r technical awareness. T h e la tte r
p oliticize s n o t so m uch th ro u g h an e la bo ratio n o f the deficiencies in
the present social o rd e r as th ro u g h d em o n stra tin g th a t th is o rd e r
constrains the means th a t already exist to re ctify th e m .188
B u t in the n ineteenth ce ntu ry, a rtists and w rite rs generally d id
n o t understand the p ositive p o te n tia l o f the new technologies fo r
c u ltu ra l p ro d u c tio n any m ore cle a rly th a n they d id the dangers o f
using these technologies to aestheticize mass p o litic s . Balzac p ro ­
nounced newspapers as “ ‘ “ deadly to the existence o f m odern
w rite rs .” ’ ” 189 G a u tie r (lik e Balzac, a m on archist) praised C harles
I ’s suppression o f the press, c la im in g th a t it “ ‘ “ rendered a great
service to the arts and to c iv iliz a tio n ” ’ ” :

“ ‘Newspapers are o f the species o f courtiers or horse dealers who inter­

pose themselves between the artists and the public, between the king and
the people. . . their perpetual barking. . . hurls such m istrust. . . into the
m ind th a t. . . royalty and poetry, the two grandest things in the world,
become impossible.” ’ 190

A rc h ite cts, as we have seen, d istru sted m athem atics. B u t engineers

were no m ore c la irv o y a n t, co m ing o n ly “ slo w ly” to “ new m ethods
o f fa b ric a tio n .” 191 A n d i f a rtists preached “ a rt fo r a rt’ s sake,” and,
scorning the new technology, insisted: “ ‘A d ra m a is n o t a
ra ilro a d ,’ ” 192 it was also tru e “ th a t the ve ry A ra g o w ho reported
the famous positive e va lu a tio n o f [p h o to g ra p h y ], reported in the
same year [ . . . ] a negative evalua tion o f the ra ilro a d co n s tru c tio n
p lanned b y the g o ve rn m e n t.” 193 (“ ‘A m o n g o th e r argum ents, the
difference in te m p era ture at the entrance and exits to the tunnels
w o u ld , i t was said, lead to fa ta l heat and c h ills .’ ” 194) B u t was the
“ progressive” a lte rn a tiv e sim p ly to m ake an a rt object o f ra ilro a d s
themselves?

Theatre du Luxembourg, 30 December 1837: “ A locomotive w ith ‘several

elegant wagons’ appears on the stage.” 193
H 3 _______________________________
5 M y th ic Nature: Wish Image

T h e images o f n in etee nth-cen tu ry a rch ite ctu re and engineering,

p a in tin g and p ho tog rap hy, lite ra tu re flrcrfjournalism were a tangle o f
b o th a n tic ip a to ry and fe tte rin g elements. I t was n ot s u rp risin g th a t
in the darkness o f the lived m om ent, n e ith e r a rtis t n o r technician
was able to d ifferentiate clea rly between the tw o. G ranted, te chn ol­
ogy was in h e re n tly progressive, p ro m isin g socialist form s o f liv in g
and cu ltu re ; b u t so long as its developm ent was a pp ro p ria te d fo r
the purposes o f ca pita lism and the state, it produced o n ly reified
dream images o f th a t prom ise, a p hantasm agoria o f the “ new na ­
tu re .” S im ila rly , even i f the in d u s tria l re p ro d u ctio n o f a rtis tic and
lite ra ry form s was in h e re n tly dem ocratic, so long as, u nd er com ­
m o d ity p ro d u ctio n , c u ltu re was produced as m a n ip u la tio n ra th e r
th an e nligh ten m en t, fostering passive co nsu m p tion ra th e r than
active co lla b o ra tio n , the d em ocratic p o te n tia l o f mass c u ltu re
rem ained unrealized.
N e ith e r te chn icia n n o r a rtis t was to be affirm ed u nequivocably.
B o th , la ckin g c o n tro l over the means o f p ro d u c tio n ,196 s u b m itte d to
the dem ands o f the m arket and thereby helped to perpetuate the
n o n id e n tity between social u tility and c a p ita lis t p ro fita b ility . As
producers o f strategic b e a u tifica tio n or o f p a trio tic o ra tio n , b o th
served the interests o f p o litic a l re a c tio n .197 B o th were caught up in
the dream -state o f technology. A t the same tim e, both m anaged to
express progressive elements in th e ir w o rk in spite o f it. B e nja m in
concludes: “ T h e a tte m p t to d ra w o u t a system atic c o n fro n ta tio n
between a rt and p ho to g ra p h y m ust fa il” ; ra th e r, as was the case in
o th e r areas o f c u ltu ra l p ro d u c tio n , i t could best be understood as “ a
m om e n t in the c o n fro n ta tio n between a rt and technology w h ic h
h is to ry has p ro du ced ” 198— b u t w h ic h “ h is to ry ” w ou ld n o t a u to ­
m a tic a lly resolve: T h e Ecole des beaux arts and Ecole polytechnique were
n o t the thesis and antithesis o f a h isto rica l process. T h e riv a lry
between them was a sym ptom o f th a t process, n o t its e lf the d ia lec­
tic a l w o rk in g o u t o f its co ntrad iction s. T ech no log y was a challenge
to a rt; forces o f p ro d u ctio n were in c o n tra d ic tio n w ith relations o f
p ro d u c tio n . B u t these tw o facts could n ot be n eatly superim posed
so th a t the term s o f the fo rm e r lin e d up une qu ivo ca bly on the sides
o f progress and reaction.
M o re o ve r, given the present m ode o f p ro d u ctio n , a ll “ syntheses”
144

Part I I

between a rt and technology were prem ature. W ith in B e n ja m in ’s

in te lle c tu a l landscape, they belonged to the a n tic ip a to ry rea lm o f
dream s. T h e sheltering arcades were the firs t m odern a rch ite ctu re
fo r the p u b lic. B u t they were also the firs t consum er “ dream
houses,” placed at the service o f co m m o d ity w orship . In the
n in eteenth ce ntu ry, w hen the tem po o f technological tra n s fo rm a ­
tions threatened to o u ts trip the ca pa city o f a rt to a da pt its e lf to
them , advertising became the means o f reestablishing a lin k between
technology’s forces and social desires: “ T h e advertisem ent is the
c u n n in g w ith w h ich the dream im posed its e lf upon in d u s try .” 199 A t
the same tim e, the developm ent o f a dve rtisin g was s y m p to m a tic o f
the tra n sfo rm a tio n o f in fo rm a tio n in to propaganda, so th a t in com ­
m ercial a rt fantasy o n ly “ prepares” its e lf to become socially “ p ra c ­
tic a l” in a p ositive sense.200 S im ila rly , before p h o to g ra p h y can
o b ta in a “ re v o lu tio n a ry use-value,” the p ho tog rap he r m ust “ res­
cue” the im age fro m “ the fashions o f com m erce,” w ith the p ro p e r
c a p tio n .201 In the fe u ille to n , w rite rs fin d th e ir rig h tfu l place as com ­
m u n ica to rs to a mass audience and as com m entators on everyday
life, b u t the com m ercial genres o f th e ir lite ra tu re — physiognom ies
o f the crow d, panoram as o f the b oulevard, the reveries o f the
fla n e u r— tra n sfo rm re a lity in to an object th a t can be consum ed
passively, p le asurably, and d ire c tly in its dream fo rm ,202 ra th e r
th a n “ re fu n c tio n in g ” the co m m u n ica tio n apparatus in to a to o l th a t
w ill m ake it possible to wake up fro m the dream . G iven the a m b iv a ­
lence o f the phenom ena, those a rtw o rks th a t eschewed the new so­
c ia l pressures and espoused the d o ctrin e o f Vart pour Vart w ere as
m uch to be redeemed as, fo r d iffe re n t reasons, the tendency o f ta ck­
in g aesthetic “ m asks” o nto the new form s. T h e la tte r were w a rn in g
signs th a t fantasy’s new social usefulness d id n o t m ake its u to p ia n
aspect superfluous. In short, the liq u id a tio n o f tra d itio n a l a rt
w o u ld re m a in pre m a tu re , so lon g as its u to p ia n prom ise was le ft
unrealized.
I f the situ a tio n had been sim ple, i f a rt and technology had been
the opposing poles o f a h is to ric a l d ia le ctic w ith in the su pe rstru c­
ture, then there w ould have been noth ing easier than th eir “ synthe­
sis.” T h e new cu ltu re w o u ld emerge as a process o f a esth eticizing
technology, o r conversely, o f p ro c la im in g technology as a rt. B o th
these form s were a tte m p ted in the e arly tw e n tie th ce ntu ry, the firs t
b y Jugendstil, w h ich strove to renew a rt from the “ form -treasures o f
145_______________________________
5 M y th ic Nature: W ish Image

techn olo gy” 203 and to “ stylize ” them “ o rn a m e n ta lly ” 204 as n a tu ra l

sym bols; the second by F u tu ris m w h ich , p ro n o u n c in g technology
b e a u tifu l, w ished to raise it to an a rt fo rm in itself. B e n ja m in c r iti­
cizes them on the same grounds: “ T h e re a ctio n a ry a tte m p t to
release te chn olo gica lly determ ined form s fro m th e ir fu n c tio n a l
contexts and to re ify them as n a tu ra l constants— i.e., to stylize
th e m — occurred s im ila rly in Jugendslil and la te r in F u tu ris m .” 205
D espite A d o rn o ’s reservations, B e n ja m in ’s th eo ry o f mass c u l­
tu re d id p ro vid e c rite ria fo r a c ritiq u e o f c u ltu ra l p ro d u c tio n under
ca pita lism . B u t it also id e n tifie d how in spite o f these conditions,
socialist im a g in a tio n could come— indeed, was com ing in to being.
T h e c u ltu ra l tra n sfo rm a tio n w h ich B e n ja m in was in ve stig a tin g is
n o t to be th o u g h t o f sim p ly as a new aesthetic style. I t involves
g iv in g up the in g ra in e d h a b it o f th in k in g in term s o f the subjective
fantasy o f a rt versus the objective m a te ria l form s o f re a lity . T h e
d ia le c tic w h ich was “ no less v is ib le ” in the superstructure th an in
the su bstructure w o u ld tran sfo rm the ve ry w ay these tw o socie­
ta l components were related. T h e bin ary o f substructure and
superstructure w ould itse lf be draw n into the “ m elting-dow n
process.” 206

R ecall th a t the collective fantasy released at the b eg inning o f the

new era o f in d u s tria lis m reaches back to an u r-pa st. In the tem ­
p o ra l d im ension, images o f the ancient, m y th ic o rigins o f W estern
c iv iliz a tio n become p ro m in e n t (one m an ifesta tio n o f w h ic h is neo-
classicism). M a te ria lly , the technologically produced “ new” nature
appears in the fa ntastic fo rm o f the old, org an ic nature. T h e
Passagen-Werk gives repeated d ocu m e ntatio n o f how the m o d e rn ity
th a t was em erging in the nineteenth ce n tu ry evoked both o f these
realm s, in w h a t m ig h t seem to be a collective expression o f nostal­
g ia fo r the past and the outm oded. B u t B e n ja m in leads us to u nd er­
stand a d iffe re n t m o tiv a tio n . O n the one hand, it is an “ a tte m p t to
m aster the new experiences o f the c ity ” and o f technology “ in the
fram e o f the o ld , tra d itio n a l ones o f n a tu re ” 207 and o f m y th . O n the
o th e r hand, i t is the d istorted fo rm o f the dream “ w is h ,” w h ic h is
n o t to redeem the past, b u t to redeem the desire fo r u to p ia to w h ic h
h u m a n ity has persistently given expression. T h is u top ia is none
146

Part I I

other than the com m unist goal stated by M a rx in the 1844 “ Econom ­
ic and P hilosophic M a n u s c rip ts ” 208: the h arm onious re co n cilia ­
tio n o f subject and object th ro u g h the h u m a n iza tio n o f n a tu re and
the n a tu ra liz a tio n o f h u m a n ity , and it is in fact an u r-h is to ric a l
m o tif in b o th B ib lic a l and classical m y th . Greek a n tiq u ity , no
heaven-on-earth in re a lity , achieved such a re co n c ilia tio n s y m b o li­
c a lly in its c u ltu ra l form s. T o rep lica te these form s, how ever, as i f
some “ tr u th ” were e te rn a lly present w ith in them , denies the h is to r­
ica l p a rtic u la rly w h ich is essential to a ll tru th . R ather, the u r-
u to p ia n themes are to be rediscovered n o t m erely s y m b o lic a lly , as
aesthetic o rn a m e n ta tio n , b u t a ctu a lly, in m a tte r’s m ost m od em
co nfigurations.
I t is w ith the new, technological n atu re th a t hum an beings m ust
be reconciled. T h is is the goal o f socialist cu ltu re , and the m eaning
o f B e n ja m in ’s question, already cited:

When and how w ill the worlds o f form that have arisen in mechanics, in
film , machine construction and the new physics, and that have over­
powered us w ithout our being aware o f it, make what is natural in them
clear to us? When w ill the condition of society be reached in which these
forms or those that have arisen from them open themselves up to us as
natural forms?209

T h e paradox is th a t precisely by g iv in g up nostalgic m im ic k in g o f

the past and p aying s tric t a tte n tio n to the new natu re , the u r-
images are reanim ated. Such is the logic o f h is to ric a l images, in
w h ic h collective w ish images are negated, surpassed, and a t the
same tim e d ia le c tic a lly redeemed. T h is logic does n o t fo rm a d is­
cursive system in a H egelian sense. T h e m om ent o f su b la tio n re­
veals its e lf vis u a lly , in an instantaneous flash210 w herein the old is
illu m in a te d precisely at the m om ent o f its disappearance. T h is fleet­
ing im age o f tru th “ is n ot a process o f exposure w h ic h destroys the
secret, b u t a reve la tio n w h ic h does it ju s tic e .” 211

C an such a cogn itive experience (w h ich, lite ra lly , e-ducates o u r im ­

a g in a tio n , lea din g it o u t o f its s till m y th ic stage) be illu s tra te d in
the context o f the present discussion? B y w ay o f conclusion, here
are tw o such attem pts, d e m o n stra tin g both the m om ent o f c ritic a l
negation in the dialectics o f seeing th a t exposes the ideology o f
H 7 _______________________________

5 M y th ic Nature: W ish Image

bourgeois cu ltu re , and the m om ent o f red e m p tio n , as a fle etin g re­
v e la tio n o f tru th . T h e firs t illu s tra tio n , constructed o u t o f extremes
o f archaic and m odern, makes visib le the difference between the
re p e titio n o f the past and its redem ption. In the second, the new
n atu re flashes together w ith the old in an a n tic ip a to ry im age o f
h u m a n ity and n atu re reconciled.

A rc h a ic /M o d e rn

N o t o n ly a rc h ite c tu ra l tastes were d om in a ted by neoclassical aes­

thetics in the nineteenth ce ntu ry. Bourgeois theater enth usia stically
restaged the a ncient G reek tragedies, d e fin in g “ classics” as those
w orks, the tru th o f w h ich was untouched by h is to ric a l passing. In
the genre o f caricature (m ore receptive to the new technologies o f
lith o g ra p h ic re p ro d u ctio n due to its low e r status as an a rt fo rm ) the
a rtis t H o n ore D a u m ie r produced images o f his own class212 w hich ,
in m a kin g the bourgeois subject th e ir object, le n t to his visua l rep­
resentations ‘ “ a sort o f p h ilo so p h ica l o p e ra tio n .’ ” 213 H is h u m o r
p ro vid e d the c ritic a l distance necessary to recognize the pretentions
o f the bourgeois cloak o f a n tiq u ity .214 D a u m ie r showed neoclassi­
cism to be n ot the recurrence o f an e te rn a lly v a lid fo rm , b u t a
peculiarly bourgeois style o f historical distortion. H e depicted
the bourgeoisie depicting a n tiq u ity , in a w ay th a t a rtic u la te d the
form er’s transiency, not the la tte r’s permanence (figures 5.12 and
5.13). B audelaire suggested as the m o tto fo r a book by D a u m ie r on
ancient h isto ry: “ W h o w ill d e live r us fro m the Greeks and the
R om ans?” — and he recognized in this a rtis t a fe llo w m od ernist
because o f it. H e w rote:

“ Daumier swoops down brutally on antiquity and mythology and spits on

it. And the impassioned Achilles, the prudent Ulysses, the wise Penelope,
and that great ninny Telemachus, and beautiful Helen who loses Troy,
and steaming Sappho, patron o f hysterics, and ultim ately everyone, has
been shown to us in a comic ugliness that recalls those* old carcasses
o f actors o f the classic theater who take a pinch of snuff behind the
scenes.” 215

D a u m ie r’s images p ro vid e the c ritic a l negation o f bourgeois classi­

cism. B u t it is to the “ dra m a tic laboratory” o f Brecht’s epic theater,
the m ost te ch n ica lly experim ental o f co nte m p o ra ry d ra m a tic form s,
148

Part I I

5.12 “ Bernice, T itu s , and A ntiochus,” H onore D aum ier, from Le Charivari, 1839 (top).

5.13 “ The M aidens o f Penelope,” Honore D aum ier, from the cycle Ulysses, 1852 (bottom ).
149

5 M y th ic Nature: W ish Image

th a t we m ust look fo r a re a n im a tio n o f the scientific pow er o f classi­

cal th ea te r— as B e n ja m in ’s defense o f B re cht makes clear:

[B re ch t. . . ] goes back, in a new way, to the theater’s greatest and most

ancient opportunity: the opportunity to expose the present. In the center
o f his experiments is man. The man of today; a reduced man therefore, a
man kept on ice in a cold world. But since he is the only one we have, it is
in our interest to know him. He is subjected to tests and observations.
[. . . ] Constructing out o f the smallest elements o f human behavior that
which in Aristotelian drama is called “ action” — this is the purpose of epic
theater.216

S im ila rly , in technological structures, classical fo rm returns, a fact

o f w h ic h Le C orbu sier, a founder o f a rc h ite c tu ra l m odernism , was
aware. B e n ja m in clearly affirm ed the new a rch ite ctu re as the (his­
to ric a lly transient) fo rm adequate to the perio d o f tra n s itio n . H e
w rote: “ In the firs t th ird o f the last ce n tu ry no one yet had an
in k lin g o f how one m ust b u ild w ith glass and iro n . T h e pro ble m has
lo n g since been resolved by hangars and silos.” 217 As i f to illu s tra te
this p o in t, the plates th a t accom panied a 1923 e d itio n o f Le C o rb u ­
sier’ s collected articles in clu d e d photographs o f hangars and silos.
M ore o ve r, they juxtap ose such m odern form s to the b u ild in g s o f
a n tiq u ity , in o rd e r to dem onstrate h ow architects o f the conte m p o r­
a ry era, ra th e r th an im ita tin g a n tiq u ity in te n tio n a lly , take th e ir
lead fro m the engineers w ho, u n w ittin g ly , have discovered its form s
anew (figures 5 .1 4 -5 .1 7 ). B e nja m in asks rh e to ric a lly : “ D o not a ll
great triu m p h s in the area o f fo rm come in to existence [ . . . ] as
technological discoveries?” 218

O ld N a tu re /N e w N ature

T h e earliest Passagen-Werk notes state th a t the w o rk o f G ra n d v ille is

to be “ com pared w ith the phenom enology o f H eg el.” 219 In fa ct this
g ra p h ic a rtis t (w h om Surrealists as w e ll as silent film m a kers recog­
nized as th e ir precursor) m ade visible the “ am bivalence between
the u to p ia n and cyn ica l elem ent” 220 in the bourgeois idealist
a tte m p t to subsume n atu re under its own, subjective categories.
H is images d ep ict n atu re as pure s u b je c tiv ity in its m ost specific,
b o u rg eo is-h istorical fo rm , th a t is, as co m m o d ity. A contem porary
o f M a rx , G ra n d v ille ’s “ cosm ology o f fa shio n ” portrays natu re
decked o u t in the latest styles as so m an y “ specialty ite m s.” 221
150

Part I I

5.14 and 5.15 C ontem porary grain elevators (Le C orbusier).

\ 5\____________________
5 M y t h ic N a tu re : W is h Im a g e

5.16 and 5.17 Details o f the P arthenon (Le Corbusier).

152

Part I I

5.18 “ Flowers and fru it rejoice in the coming o f spring” — G randville, 1844.
\53____________________
5 M yth ic Nature: Wish Image

5.19 “ Venus as an evening star” — G randville, 1844 (top).

. : :'ji'

5.20 “ A n interplanetary bridge; S aturn’s ring is an iron balcony” — G randville, 1844

(b o tto m ).
154

Part II

5.21 “ A dog w alking his m an” — G ra ndvillc, 1844.

G ra n d v ille “ brings w e ll to expression w h a t M a rx calls the ‘theo­

log ical capers* o f co m m o d itie s,” 222 and, p u rs u in g c o m m o d ity
fetishism “ to its extremes, reveals its n a tu re .” 223 In his w o rk the
im age o f h u m a n ity reconciled w ith n atu re is given a c yn ica l tw is t:
N a tu re im ita te s h u m a n ity ’s fetishized form s as “ so m a n y parodies
by n a tu re on the h is to ry o f h u m a n ity .” 224 “ G ra n d v ille ’s fantasies
transfer co m m o d ity-ch a ra cte r o nto the universe. T h e y m odernize
i t 5,225 Com ets, p lanets,226 flow ers, the m oon and evening sta r are
anim a te d, o n ly to receive the “ h u m a n ” a ttrib u te o f being tra n s­
form ed in to a co m m o d ity (figures 5 .1 8 -5 .2 0 ).227 B u t in d e p ic tin g
the “ b a ttle between fashion and n a tu re ,” 228 G ra n d v ille allow s na ­
tu re to gain the u p p e r hand (fig u re 5.21). A n active, rebellious
n atu re takes its revenge on the hum ans w ho w ou ld fetishize it as a
c o m m o d ity (figu re 5.22).
T h e m y th o f h um an om nipotence, the b e lie f th a t h um an a rtific e
can d om in a te n a tu re and recreate the w o rld in its im age, is ce n tra l
to the ideology o f m odern d o m in a tio n . B e nja m in names this fa n ­
tasy (w h ich is believed w ith d eadly seriousness by whose w ho w ie ld
te chn olo gy’s pow er over others): “ c h ild is h .” 229 G ra n d v ille depicts
it, w hen, “ God know s, n o t g e n tly ,” he stamps hum an ch aracte ris­
tics onto nature, p ra c tic in g th a t “ g ra p h ic sadism ” w h ic h w o u ld
155_______________________________

5 M y th ic Nature: W ish Image

5.22 “ Fish fishing for people, using various desirable items as b a it” — G randville, 1844.
156

Part I I

5.23 “ The m arine life collection, showing that underwater plants and animals are based on
forms invented by m an— fans, wigs, combs, brushes, etc.” — G randville, 1844.
157_______________________________
5 M yth ic Nature: W ish Image

5 .2 4 ,5 .2 5 ,5 .2 6 , 5.27 Photographs o f plants as ur-forms o f art, K a rl Blossfeldt, 1928.

158

Part I I

become the “ fu n d a m e n ta l p rin c ip le ” o f the a d ve rtisin g im age.230

G ra n d v ille ’s caricatures m im ic the h u b ris o f a h u m a n ity so puffed
up w ith its new achievem ents th a t it sees its e lf as the source o f a ll
creation and b ru ta lly im agines the old natu re to ta lly subsumed
under its form s (figu re 5.23).
B u t this cogn itive experience is inve rted w hen the new technique
o f p h o to g ra p h ic enlargem ent (figures 5.24-5.27) shows us w ith
w h a t cu n n in g natu re , a n tic ip a tin g the form s o f h um an technology,
has been a llied w ith us a ll along! P hotography thereby takes us like
“ L ilip u tia n s ” in to a land o f g ig a n tic and “ fra te rn a l” org an ic p la n t
form s,231 w ro te B e n ja m in in his review o f K a r l B lossfeldt’s Urformen
der Kunst (U r-form s o f A rt) in 1928. C o m p a rin g Blossfeldt to G ra n d -
v ille , B e n ja m in com m ented:

Is it not rem arkable th a t here another p rin cip le o f advertising, the gigan­
tic enlargement o f the w o rld o f plants is now seen to heal the wounds th a t
caricature delivered to it?” 232

H ere is a use o f technology n o t to d om inate n atu re b u t to take o ff

the “ v e il” th a t o u r “ laziness” has th ro w n over the old n atu re , and
a llo w us to see in p la n t existence “ a to ta lly unexpected treasure o f
analogies and fo rm s.” 233

U r-form s o f a rt— yes, granted. S till, w hat else can these be b u t the u r-
forms o f nature?— Forms, th a t is, that were never merely a m odel fo r art,
b u t from the very beginning, ur-form s at w ork in a ll th a t is creative?234
6____________________________
Historical Nature: Ruin

T ra n sitorin e ss is the key to B e n ja m in ’s a ffirm a tio n o f the m y th ic

elem ent in c u ltu ra l objects, redeem ing the wish-im ages attached to
the tra n s itio n a l, “ to o -e a rly” u r-fo rm s o f m odern technology as
m o m e n ta ry a n ticip a tio n s o f u top ia. B u t in the process o f com m od­
ific a tio n , w ish im age congeals in to fetish; the m y th ic lays claim to
e te rn ity. “ P etrified n a tu re ” (erstarrte N atur) characterizes those
com m odities th a t com prise the m odern phantasm agoria w h ic h in
tu rn freezes the h is to ry o f h u m a n ity as i f enchanted under a m agic
s p e ll.1 B u t this fetishized nature, too, is tra n sito ry . T h e o the r side o f
mass c u ltu re ’s h ellish re p e titio n o f “ the new ” is the m o rtific a tio n
o f m a tte r w h ich is fashionable no longer. T h e gods grow o u t o f
date, th e ir idols disintegrate, th e ir c u lt places— the arcades
them selves— decay. B e nja m in notes th a t the firs t electric street­
lig h tin g (1857) “ extinguished the irre proa cha ble lu m in o s ity in
these passages, w h ic h were suddenly h arde r to fin d [ . . . ] . ” 2 H e
in te rp re ts Z o la ’s novel Therese Raquin, w ritte n a decade later, as an
account o f “ the death o f the Paris arcades, the process o f decay o f
an a rc h ite c tu ra l style .” 3 Because these decaying structures no
longer hold sway over the collective im a g in a tio n , it is possible to
recognize them as the illu s o ry dream images they always were.
Precisely the fact th a t th e ir o rig in a l aura has disintegrated makes
them in va lu a b le d id a c tic a lly :

T o cite an observation o f Aragon th a t constitutes the hub o f the problem :

T h a t the Passages are w hat they are here for us [fu r uns]> is due to the fact
th a t they in themselves [an sick] are no longer.4
160

Part I I

W e have come a round fu ll circle, and are once again u nd e r the sign
o f “ N a tu ra l H is to ry ,” in w h ich h is to ry appears concretely as the
m o rtific a tio n o f the w o rld o f things. L e t us review : As a m ontage
(and expressed fa r m ore concretely in the G erm an language w h ic h
its e lf b uilds w ords by m ontage), the idea o f “ n a tu ra l h is to ry ”
(Naturgeschickte) provides c ritic a l images o f m odern h is to ry as
p re h isto ric— m erely n a tu ra l, n o t yet h isto ry in the tr u ly h u m a n
sense. T h is was the p o in t o f B e n ja m in ’s vie w in g the nineteenth cen­
tu ry as the d ista n t ice age o f in d u s tria lis m . B u t in the im age o f the
fossil, B e nja m in captures as w e ll the process o f n a tu ra l decay th a t
m arks the s u rviva l o f past h is to ry w ith in the present, expressing
w ith p alpable c la rity w h a t the discarded fetish becomes, so h o l­
low ed o u t o f life th a t o n ly the im p r in t o f the m a te ria l shell rem ains.
I t was A d o rn o w ho p ro vid e d the in te lle c tu a l m a p p in g o f B en­
ja m in ’ s approach. In “ T h e Id e a o f N a tu ra l H is to ry ” (1932), he
p ointed o u t th a t Lukacs conveyed a s im ila r m eaning w ith the con­
cept o f “ second n a tu re ” : “ this alienated, reified, dead w o rld ” o f
fixed aesthetic form s and h o llo w lite ra ry conventions, fro m w h ic h
the “ in m o st soul has been e xtra cte d.” 5 B o th B e n ja m in and Lukacs
dem onstrated th a t “ the p e trifie d life w ith in n atu re is m erely w h a t
h is to ry has developed in to .” 6 B u t Lukacs, re lyin g on H eg el’s p h ilo ­
sophical legacy, was led u ltim a te ly to a to ta liz in g conception o f
m etaphysical transcendence, whereas B e nja m in , schooled in the
very d ifferent tra d itio n o f the Baroque alle go rica l poets, rem ained
focused on the fra g m e n ta ry, tra n s ito ry object. A d o rn o m a in ta in e d
th a t in revealing the significance o f Baroque a llegory fo r the p h i­
losophy o f h isto ry, B e n ja m in accom plished “ som ething essentially
d iffe re n t” fro m L u ka cs7: H e b ro u g h t the idea o f h is to ry “ o u t o f
in fin ite distance in to in fin ite p ro x im ity ” 8:

I f Lukacs lets the historical, as th a t w hich has been, transform its e lf back
in to [frozen] nature, then here is the other side o f the phenomenon:
N ature its e lf is presented as tra n sito ry nature, as h isto ry.9

N ow i t m u st be em phasized th a t A d o rn o ’ s a p p re cia tio n here o f

B e n ja m in ’s Trauerspiel stu dy was based on its (un in te n d e d ) con­
trib u tio n to a m a te ria lis t— and, indeed, M a rx is t— conception o f
history. A n d i f we w ish to understand how this conception in tu rn
c o n trib u te d to the Passagen-Werk, we, too, w ill need to consider this
161
6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

e arly study, before re tu rn in g to the nineteenth ce ntu ry and to Ben­

ja m in ’s analysis o f its ow n alle go rica l poet, C harles Baudelaire.
W e can begin by re ca llin g th a t central to the Baroque vision o f
n a tu re as the a llegorical representation o f h isto ry is the e m b le m ,10 a
m ontage o f visual im age and lin g u is tic sign, o u t o f w h ich is read,
lik e a p ictu re puzzle, w h a t things “ m ean.” O f course, in the repre­
sentation o f the co m m o d ity fetish as fossil, B enja m in h im s e lf
created such an em blem : U n d e r the sign o f history, the image
o f p e trifie d n atu re is the ciph er o f w h a t h isto ry has become. T he
a lle g o rica l poets read a s im ila r m eaning in to the em blem o f the
h um an sku ll, the skeletal residue w ith its e m pty stare th a t was
once an a nim ated, hum an face (figu re 6.1).

H isto ry, in everything it displays th a t was from the beginning untim ely,
sorrow ful, unsuccessful, expresses its e lf in a face— no, in a skull. [ . . . I ] t
articulates as a riddle, the nature not only o f hum an existence pure and
sim ple, b u t o f the biological h is to ric ity o f an in d iv id u a l in this, the figure
o f its greatest natural decay.11

T h e em blem o f the sku ll can be read in tw o ways. I t is h um an s p irit

p e trifie d ; b u t it is also natu re in decay, the tra n sfo rm a tio n o f the
corpse in to a skeleton th a t w ill tu rn in to dust. S im ila rly , in the
concept o f Naturgeschichte, i f h o llo w e d -o u t n a tu re (the fossil) is the
em blem o f “ p e trifie d h is to ry ,” then nature too has a history, so th a t
h is to ric a l transiency (the ru in ) is the em blem o f natu re in decay. In
seventeenth-century Europe, w hen the religio us p o lity was in shat­
ters due to p ro tra cte d w ar, the B aroque allegoricists contem plated
the sku ll as an im age o f the v a n ity o f hum an existence and the
transitoriness o f e a rth ly pow er. T h e ru in was s im ila rly e m blem atic
o f the fu tility , the “ tra n s ito ry sp le n d o r” 12 o f h u m a n c iv iliz a tio n , out
o f w h ic h h is to ry was read as “ a process o f relentless d is in te g ra tio n
[ . . . ] . ” 13 I n these “ rid d le fig ures” o f h is to ric a lly tran sien t nature,
B e n ja m in locates

[ . . . ] the core o f the allegorical way o f seeing, and the Baroque secular
exposition o f history as the suffering o f the w o rld ; it is m eaningful only in
periods o f decline. T he greater the meaning, the greater the subjection to
death, because death digs out most deeply the jagged line o f dem arcation
between physical nature and m eaning.14

A n em blem by F lo re n tiu s Schoonovius (fig u re 6.2) expresses this

idea. T h e subscriptio (caption) reads:
162

Part I I

«SW A I 3^
0

■& y f T U s .

Quos d im fa p a ritS0RS> M o r s inamabilis *quat»

6 t pedc m ctitu r te P d'T^ / c.eca p a ri.
A t m ajor v irtu t m ajori funcrc
M a io r ADiEQUATOS fic ‘P A U L IS in te r e rit.
6.1 Baroque emblem w ith the common m o tif o f a hum an skull, signifying the equalizing
power o f death.
163_________________________
6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

Vivitur ingenio.
EM D L E M A XXI X

fygnacaJtm ty urbes perennt, nec qu<efult olim

,
fym a manetj prater nomen inane nihil.
Sola tamcn rerum (lochs qutejtta libellis
,,
EffugumtJlruSlos Fama decttfque rogos.
6.2 “ V iv itu r Ingenio,” emblem by F lorentius Schoonhovius, ca. 1618.
164____

Part I I

Rulers fall, cities perish, nothing o f

W hat Rome once was remains.
The past is empty, nothing.
O nly those things o f learning and
Books that give fame and respect
Escape the funeral pyre created
By time and death.15

T h e m eaning o f this em blem corresponds closely to a Baroque text

cited by B e nja m in :

“ Considering that the pyramids, pillars, and statues o f all kinds o f mate­
rial become damaged w ith time or destroyed by violence or simply de­
cay . . . that indeed whole cities have sunk, disappeared, and are covered
over by water, that in contrast writings and books are immune from such
destruction, for i f any should disappear or be destroyed in one country or
place, one can easily find them again in countless other places, then to
speak o f human experience, nothing is more enduring and im m ortal than
books.” 16

In p re p a rin g the 1935 expose, B e nja m in made a sh o rt n o ta tio n :

“ fetish and s k u ll.” 17 M o re generally, th ro u g h o u t the Passagen-Werk
m ate ria l, the im age o f the “ r u in ,” as an em blem n o t o n ly o f the
transitoriness and fr a g ility 18 o f ca p ita list cu lture, b u t also its
destructiveness,19 is p ronounced. A n d ju s t as the Baroque d ra m a t­
ists saw in the ru in n o t o n ly the “ h ig h ly m ea nin gfu l fra g m e n t,” 20
b u t also the o bjective d ete rm ina te fo r th e ir ow n poetic construc­
tio n, the elements o f w h ic h were never u n ifie d in to a seamless
w hole,21 so B e n ja m in em ployed the m ost m odern m ethod o f m on ­
tage in o rd e r to co n stru ct o u t o f the decaying fragm ents o f
n in etee nth-cen tu ry c u ltu re images th a t m ade visib le the “ jagged
line o f dem arcatio n between p hysical nature and m e a n in g .”
I t was the B aroque poets w ho dem onstrated to B e n ja m in th a t
the “ failed m a te ria l” o f his ow n h isto rica l era could be “ elevated to
the p osition o f a lle g o ry.” 22 W h a t made this so va lu ab le fo r a dia lec­
tic a l p resentation o f m o d e rn ity was th a t allegory and m y th were
“ a n tith e tic a l.” 23 In de ed , a llegory was the “ a n tid o te ” to m y th , and
precisely th is was “ to be dem on strate d ” in the Passagen-Werk.24 Y e t
the Baroque, C h ris tia n conclusion th a t because the w o rld o f m ate­
ria l referents crum bles i t is u ltim a te ly not rea l— “ n o th in g ,” w h ile
the tru th o f w ritte n texts is im m o rta l because these m ental p roducts
survive the m a te ria l destructiveness o f history, was a p o sitio n th a t
165_________________________

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

fo r b oth p h iloso ph ical and p o litic a l reasons B enja m in fe lt com ­

pelled to reject.

A llegory is in the realm o f thought w hat ruins are in the realm o f things.25

T h e im age realm o f classical a n tiq u ity was as central to B e n ja m in ’s

discussion o f Trauerspiel as it was to the Arcades project. A n tiq u ity ’ s
m y th o lo g ica l cosmology a nth ro p o m o rp h ize d the forces o f (old) na­
tu re as gods in h um an fo rm , sig n ifyin g a c o n tin u ity between n a tu ­
ra l, h um an , and d ivin e realm s. T h is pagan pantheon was destroyed
by la te r h is to ry in the ve ry m a te ria l sense: T h e great sculpted
figures o f the gods, the p illa rs o f th e ir tem ples, survived p hysically
o n ly in fragm ents. W h ile a rch ite ctu re bore v is ib ly the m arks and
w ounds o f the h isto ry o f h um an violence,26 the ancient gods were
banished as “ heathen” by a triu m p h a n t C h ris tia n ity , leaving be­
h in d a natu re hollow ed o u t o f the d iv in e s p irit w ith w hich they had
once anim ated it. T h e new re lig io n , in contrast, believed in the
m o rtific a tio n o f the flesh and a g u ilt-la d e n n a tu re .27 T he pantheon
o f a ncient gods, “ disconnected fro m the life contexts o u t o f w hich
they sp ra ng ,” 28 became “ dead fig ures,” sta nd ing a rb itra rily for the
p h ilo so p h ica l ideas they had once em bodied as liv in g sym bols:
“ T h e deadness o f the figures and the a bstractio n o f the concepts are
therefore the p re co n d itio n fo r the alle go rica l m etam orphosis o f the
pantheon in to a w o rld o f m agical creature-concepts.” 29
C onnected as they were w ith paganism generally, and w ith cor-
p o ra lity and se xua lity in p a rtic u la r, these ancient deities endured
w ith in the re lig io u sly charged atm osphere o f the Baroque o nly in
debased fo rm .30 T h e y survived as demons, as astrological signs, as
the faces o f T a ro t cards, and they were a pplied to a m oral purpose
as personifications o f the passions.31 V e n u s /A p h ro d ite , fo r exam ­
ple, once the n a tu ra l sym bol th a t raised h u m a n eros to the level o f
d iv in e love, lived on as “ D am e W o r ld ,” the profane, allegorical
em blem o f e a rth ly passion. W hereas o rig in a lly her nakedness
tran sfig u re d the erotic in accord w ith the “ ‘p u re r nature o f the gods
th a t was em bodied in the p a n the o n,’ ” 32 in a C h ris tia n context she
appeared dressed in conte m p o ra ry fashion; or, her nakedness was
in te rp re te d as a m oral allegory th a t “ the sin o f lust cannot be
166___
Part I I

T e m p o ra lity o f the Sym bol: F le e tin g E te rn ity

6.3 Statue o f V enus/A phrodite, divine symbol o f love in the transitory form o f na tural
beauty, H ellenistic.
167

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

T e m p o ra lity o f A lle g o ry : E te rn al Fleetingness

6.4 Vanitas: Three stages o f Life, allegorical representation o f the transitoriness o f earthly
beauty, Hans B alding Grien (student o f D ure r), 1510.
168
Part I I

concealed.” 33 S im ila rly , C u p id survived in the a rt o f G io tto o n ly

“ ‘as a dem on o f wantonness w ith a b a t’s w ings and claw s’ ” ; and
the m yth o lo g ica l “ faun, centaur, siren, and h a rp ie ” co ntinued to
exist “ as a llegorical figures in the circle o f C h ris tia n H e ll.34 T h e
s u rv iv in g “ m arble and bronze sculptures o f a n tiq u ity s till retained
fo r the Baroque and even the Renaissance som ething o f the h o rro r
w ith w h ic h A u g u stin e had recognized in them ‘ the bodies o f the
gods, as it w ere.’ ” 35
F o rfe itu re o f d iv in ity and tra n sfo rm a tio n in to the d em onic were
the price these deities had to pay fo r s u rviva l in the C h ris tia n
era. A lle g o ric a l in te rp re ta tio n became “ th e ir o n ly conceivable
salvation” 36 W ith o u t it, “ in an unsuitable, indeed, hostile environ­
m ent [ . . . ] the w o rld o f the ancient gods w o u ld have had to die
out, and i t is precisely a llegory th a t rescued i t . ” 37
R elevant here, and s ig n ific a n t as w e ll fo r the Arcades p ro je ct, is
B e n ja m in ’s d is tin c tio n in the Trauerspiel study between sym bol and
allegory. I t w ill be rem em bered th a t he rejected as “ u nte na b le ” the
established canon (w h ich rested on G oethe’s fo rm u la tio n ) th a t the
difference between sym bo l and allegory hinged on how idea and
concept related the p a rtic u la r to the general.38 N o t the d is tin c tio n
between idea and concept was decisive, b u t the “ category o f
tim e .” 39 In allegory, h isto ry appears as natu re in decay o r ru in s
and the te m p o ra l m ode is one o f retrospective c o n te m p la tio n ; b u t
tim e enters the sym bo l as an instanteous present— “ the m y s tic a l
Afa” 40— in w h ich the e m p iric a l and the transcendent appear
m o m e n ta rily fused w ith in a fleeting, n a tu ra l fo rm .41 O rg a n ic na­
tu re th a t is “ flu id and ch an ging ” 42 is the stu ff o f sym bol (fig u re
6.3), whereas in a lle go ry (figu re 6.4), tim e finds expression in na ­
tu re m o rtifie d , n o t “ in bud and bloom , b u t in the overripeness and
decay o f her creations.” 43
T h e Trauerspiel stu d y argued th a t allegory was in no w ay in fe rio r
to the sym bol. A lle g o ry was n o t m erely a “ p la y fu l illu s tra tiv e tech­
n iq u e ,” b u t, like speech o r w ritin g , a “ fo rm o f expression,” 44 one
w h ic h the objective w o rld im posed upon the subject as a co gn itive
im p e ra tive , ra th e r th a n the a rtis t’ s choosing i t a rb itra rily as an aes­
th e tic device. C e rta in experiences (and thus ce rta in epochs) were
a lle g o rica l,45 n o t ce rta in poets. In the M id d le Ages, the ru in s o f a
conquered, pagan a n tiq u ity m ade “ [ . . . ] know ledge o f the im ­
perm anence o f th ing s [ . . . ] inescapable, derived fro m observation,
ju s t as several centuries later, at the tim e o f the T h ir ty Years W a r,
J_69_________________________
6 H is to r ic a l N a tu re : R u in

6.5 H ill o f Skulls, anonymous, German, 1917.

170

Part I I

the same know ledge stared European h u m a n ity in the face.” 46 O f

significance was the fact th a t “ in the seventeenth ce n tu ry the w o rd
Trauerspiel was a pp lie d in the same w ay to both dram as and h is to r­
ical events.” 47 A t the m om ent B e nja m in was w ritin g , E uropean
h u m a n ity again looked the ru in s o f w a r in the face, and know ledge
o f h is to ry as a desolate “ place o f sku lls” 48 (Schadelstatte) was once
m ore inescapable (figu re 6.5).
W h e n B e n ja m in conceived o f the Arcades p roject, there is no
d o u b t th a t he was self-consciously re v iv in g alle go rica l techniques.
D ia le ctica l images are a m odern fo rm o f em blem atics. B u t whereas
the B aroque dram as were m elancholy reflections on the in e v ita b il­
ity o f decay and d is in te g ra tio n , in the Passagen-Werk the d e va lu a tio n
o f (new) n atu re and its status as ru in becomes in s tru c tiv e p o litic a l­
ly. T h e debris o f in d u s tria l c u ltu re teaches us not the necessity o f
s u b m ittin g to h is to ric a l catastrophe, b u t the fra g ility o f the social
o rd e r th a t tells us this catastrophe is necessary. T h e c ru m b lin g o f
the m onum ents th a t were b u ilt to sign ify the im m o rta lity o f c iv i­
liz a tio n becomes proof, ra th e r, o f its transiency. A n d the fle e tin g ­
ness o f te m p ora l p ow er does n o t cause sadness; it inform s p o litic a l
practice. T h e im p o rta n ce o f such p ractice was the reason fo r B en­
ja m in ’ s ow n c ritic a l distance fro m Baroque allegory, already im p li­
c it in the Trauerspiel book, b u t fro m a p o litic a l p o sitio n o f ra d ic a l
pacifism ra th e r th a n re v o lu tio n a ry socialism . T h e reader w ill need
to bear w ith this digression in to the esoteric realm o f the Trauerspiel
a b it longer. Because B e n ja m in ’s c ritic is m o f B aroque alle go ry re­
m ained cru cia l to the Arcades p roject, and because its p h ilo s o p h ic ­
al im p lic a tio n s are fu n d a m e n ta l to o u r discussion both here and in
la te r chapters,49 i t is necessary to o u tlin e his arg um en t c le a rly be­
fore proceeding.

Deadening o f affects [ . . . ] distance from the surrounding w o rld [ . . . ]

alienation from one’s own body [ . . . these things become] sym ptom [s] o f
depersonalization as an intense degree o f sadness [ . . . ] in w hich the most
insignificant thing, because a n a tu ra l and creative connection to it is lack­
ing, appears as a chiffre o f an enigm atic wisdom in an in com parably fr u it­
fu l connection. In accord w ith this, in the background o f A lb re c h t D iire r’s
“ Melancholia” [figure 6.6], the utensils o f everyday life lie on the ground
unused, as objects o f contem plation. T h is engraving anticipates the B aro­
que in m any ways.50
m __________________________
6 Historical Nature: Ruin

6.6 “ Melancholia. I , ” woodcut, A lbrech t D urer, sixteenth century.

172

Part I I

B e n ja m in ’s analysis o f Baroque tra g ic dram a was p h ilo so p h ica l

ra th e r th a n lite ra ry . H e argued th a t “ m odern a lle g o ry” (w h ich
began in the Renaissance) became caught in a philosophical a n ti­
nom y. R ooted in sch olarly attem pts to d ecipher E g y p tia n h ie ro ­
glyphs, w hich were believed to be G od’s w ritin g in n atu ra l images
ra th e r th an a p ho n e tic language, it presum ed on the one h and th a t
the th in g p ictu re d re a lly was the th in g m eant: being (Seiendes) was
m eaning— “ T h e h ieroglyphs, therefore, as the replicas o f d iv in e
ideas!” 51 Such a language o f images im p lie d there was n o th in g
a rb itra ry in the connection between sign and referent. N a tu ra l im ­
ages prom ised to disclose the universal language th ro u g h w h ic h
God co m m unicated the m eaning o f H is creations to h um an
beings.52 N o t o n ly E g y p tia n h ieroglyphs, b u t also G reek m yths and
C h ris tia n sym bols w ere looked to fo r d eciph ering the d iv in e m ean­
in g o f the m a te ria l w o rld .53
O n the o th e r hand, by the seventeenth ce ntu ry, due to the p lu ra l­
ity o f pagan and C h ris tia n cosmologies th a t had been amassed in
h is to ry and preserved in those a u th o rita tiv e texts in w h ic h tru th
was believed to reside, n a tu ra l phenom ena were overdeterm ined,
laden w ith a m u ltip lic ity o f m eanings: “ F or every idea th a t comes
to m in d , the m om ent o f expression coincides w ith a v e rita b le e ru p ­
tio n o f images, em bodied in the mass o f m etaphors th a t lie litte re d
c h a o tica lly a b o u t.” 54 T h e im pulse fo r system atic c o m p le tio n o f
know ledge came up against a sem iotic a rb itra rin ess inten sifie d by
“ ‘ the d o g m a tic pow er o f the m eanings handed d ow n fro m the
ancients, so th a t one and the same object can be an im age ju s t
as easily o f a v irtu e as a vice, and e ve n tu a lly can s ig n ify
e v e ryth in g .’ ” 55 T h e a pp aren t a rb itra rin ess o f m eanings had the
effect o f co m p e llin g allegoricists to choose a v a ria n t th a t rep re ­
sented intended m eanings o f th e ir ow n — thus allegory became a
co rresp on din gly a b itra ry aesthetic device, in d ire c t c o n tra d ic tio n to
the p hiloso ph ical cla im on w h ich i t was grounded. B e n ja m in insists
th a t since “ w ith in a p u re ly aesthetic approach, p arad ox m u st have
the last w o rd ,” one m ust, as the allegoricists d id , m ove to the
“ h ig h e r rea lm o f th eo log y” in o rd e r to achieve a reso lu tio n to this
d ile m m a .56 W ith in B aroque theological discourse, the fa ct th a t
nature could only be “ read uncertainly by the allegoricists” 57 was
explained by the theological “ g u ilt” o f n atu re a fte r the F a ll fro m
Paradise.58 C h ris tia n ity concentrated the “ m u ltip lic ity ” o f pagan
173

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

elements w ith in this n a tu ra l w o rld in to “ one th eo log ica lly rig o r­

ously defined A n tic h ris t” in “ the fo rm o f S atan,” in w hom “ the
m a te ria l and the d em on ic” were “ kn otted in e x tric a b ly together.” 59
Satanic lau gh te r, the “ sneering la u g h te r o f H e ll” th a t “ overshoots
language,” 60 is connected w ith th a t s u p e rflu ity o f m eanings o f ob ­
jects w h ich is a sign o f n a tu re ’s fallen state. “ T h e alle go rica l sig-
n ifie r is prevented by g u ilt from fin d in g its m eaning fu lfille d in
its e lf.” 61 Satan rules over the abyss o f h o llo w e d -o u t m a tte r o f w h ich
h is to ry is composed, and it is he w ho “ as in itia to r, leads m an to a
know ledge th a t lies at the fo u n d a tio n o f punishable c o n d u ct.” 62
T h e allegoricists heaped em b le m atic images one on top o f
another, as i f the sheer q u a n tity o f m eanings could compensate fo r
th e ir a rb itra rin e ss and lack o f coherence.63 T h e result is th a t na­
ture, fa r fro m an org an ic w hole, appears in a rb itra ry arrangem ent,
as a lifeless, frag m en tary, u n tid y c lu tte r o f em blem s.64 T h e coher­
ence o f language is s im ila rly “ shattered.” 65 M eanings are n ot o nly
m u ltip le , they are “ above a ll” a n tith e tic a l66: T h e crow n means a
cypress w re ath, the h a rp an executioner’s axe.67 A lleg o ricists, like
alchem ists, h old d o m in io n over an in fin ite tra n sfo rm a tio n o f m ean­
ings, in contrast to the one, true w o rd o f G od.68 As know ledge o f the
m a te ria l w o rld , theirs is a know ledge o f “ e v il,” the co ntrad iction s
and a rb itra rin ess o f w h ich are experienced as a descent in to H e ll. I t
is theological reve la tio n th a t arrests this fa ll.

Just as those who plummet downward turn somersaults in their fall, so the
allegorical intention would fall from emblem to emblem into the dizziness
o f its bottomless depths, were it not that, in precisely the most extreme
among them, it had to make such an about turn that all its evil, arrogance,
and godlessness appears as nothing but self-delusion.69

K n ow le dg e o f e vil— Satan h im s e lf— as self-delusion. T h is is the

Baroque theological resolution to the p arad oxica l m eanings o f
o bjective m a tte r. I t involves a d ia le ctica l move to a m etalevel, at
w h ic h the c o n tra d ic to ry m eanings o f emblem s themselves become
an em blem , the sign o f their opposite: the e te rn ity o f the one, true
S p irit. I f the e a rth ly rea lm is kn o w n only in antitheses, then tru th
emerges as the antithesis o f a ll this. As the “ place o f sku lls,” G ol-
gatha represents the forsakenness o f n atu re by p ic tu rin g its tra n ­
sitoriness. B u t in C h ris tia n ity this em blem is transfigured: N a tu ra l
death is understood as its e lf o n ly tra n s ito ry , passing over in to eter­
n al life.
174
Part I I

T he inconsolable confusion o f the place o f skulls [Schddelstatte] th a t can be

read as the schema o f allegorical figures ou t o f a thousand engravings and
descriptions o f the tim e is not solely emblem atic o f the wasteland o f h u ­
m an existence. T ransitoriness is not only signified, not only represented
allegorically, b u t is its e lf a sign, presented as allegory: the allegory o f
R esurrection.70

Hence: “ U ltim a te ly , in the signs o f death o f the B aroque— i f o n ly

in the red em ptive re tu rn o f its great arc— the a lle go rica l o u tlo o k
makes an a bo ut tu rn .” 71 B e n ja m in cites the d ra m a o f Lohenstein:
‘ “ Yea, w hen the H ig h e st comes to reap the g raveyard h a rve st/
T h e n w ill I , a d e a th -sku ll, become an angel’ s face.’ ” 72 H ere, at a
stroke, the d iz z y in g descent is reversed, the n ig h tm a ris h e vil o f
Satan disappears: “ I t is in G o d ’s w o rld th a t the a lle g o ricist
awakens.” 73
B e n ja m in ’s stated purpose in the Trauerspiel stu d y is n o t so m uch
to evaluate th is C h ris tia n reso lu tio n as to dem onstrate th a t in B a ro ­
que allegory, such th eological th in k in g is p rim a ry , hence the in ­
adequacy o f a p u re ly lite ra ry in te rp re ta tio n o f tra g ic d ra m a . T h e
closing pages o f the Trauerspiel book are largely lim ite d to a descrip­
tion o f the theological solution to allegory’s antinom y. Y e t there are
unm istakable clues as to B enjam in’s own position, w hich m ust be
read n o t as an a ffirm a tio n b u t as a fu n d a m e n ta l c ritiq u e , one w h ic h
had p o litic a l as w e ll as p h ilo so p h ica l im p lic a tio n s . T h e o u tlin e o f
this c ritiq u e m ig h t re m a in unnoticed by the naive reader, b u t given
the context o f B e n ja m in ’s o the r w ritin g s ,74 it is legible, even i f its
presentation is in d ire c t. I f the c ritiq u e had been made e x p lic it, i t
m ig h t be sum m arized as follow s.
T h e Baroque poets saw in tra n s ito ry natu re an alle go ry fo r h u ­
m an h isto ry, in w h ic h the la tte r appeared, n o t as a d iv in e p la n or
chain o f events on a “ road to sa lva tio n ,” 75 b u t as death, ru in , catas­
trophe; and it was this essentially p h ilo so p h ica l a ttitu d e th a t gave
allegory a c la im beyond mere aesthetic device. T h e forsakenness o f
natu re , understood as a theological tru th , was the source o f the
m elan ch oly o f the allegoricists: “ T h e steadfastness w h ic h expresses
its e lf in the in te n tio n o f m o u rn in g is b o m o u t o f lo y a lty to the w o rld
o f th in g s.” 76 B u t it is a w o rld o f “ dead objects,” a rea lm o f “ in fin ite
hopelessness.” 77 In it, p o litic a l action is ju d g e d as m ere a rb itra ry
in trig u e .78 N o w a t the cru cia l p o in t— and th is follow s necessarily
fro m the m e la n ch o lic’s p o litics o f co n te m p la tio n ra th e r th an
175
6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

in te rv e n tio n — allegory deserts both h isto ry and nature and (like

the w hole tra d itio n o f ide alist p hiloso ph y th a t comes after it) , takes
refuge in the s p irit. A ll hope is reserved fo r a hereafter th a t is
“ e m ptied o f everythin g th a t contains even the im p e rce p tib le
b re ath o f the w o rld .” 79 W hen B aroque allegory attem pts to rescue
a devalued n atu re by m aking its ve ry d eva lu in g m ea nin gfu l as the
sign o f its opposite, red em ptio n, then lo y a lty tu rn s in to b etrayal:

E v il as such— exists only in allegory, is n othing other than allegory, and

means something other than it is. I t means in fact precisely the nonexis­
tence o f w hat it presents. The absolute vices, as exemplified by tyrants and
intriguers are allegories. T hey are not real [ . . . ] . 80

E v il disappears, b u t at w h a t a cost! In o rd er to rem ain true to G od,

the G e rm a n allegoricists abandon both n atu re and p o litics:
“ [ T h e ir . . . ] in te n tio n u ltim a te ly does n o t rem ain lo y a l [treu] to the
spectacle o f the skeleton, b u t, treacherously [treulos] leaps over to
the R e su rre ctio n .” 81 T h is “ treacherous” leap fro m the m o u rn fu l
spectacle o f h isto ry as a “ sad d ra m a ” to the m ira cle o f resurrection,
done in the nam e o f allegory, is in a p h ilo so p h ica l sense its nega­
tio n . “ A lle g o ry loses e verythin g th a t was m ost its o w n .” 82 Ben­
ja m in quotes from a te xt o f 1652: “ ‘W eeping, we scattered seed on
the fa llo w g ro un d, and sadly we w en t aw ay” ’83; he com m ents:
“ A lle g o ry goes away e m p ty-h a n d e d .” 84 W h e n the allegoricists,
c la im in g th a t the fragm ents o f failed n atu re are re a lly an a llegory o f
s p iritu a l red em ptio n as th e ir opposite, a red em ptio n guaranteed
o n ly by the W o rd , w hen they declare e vil as “ self-delusion” and
m a te ria l n atu re as “ n o t re a l,” then, fo r a ll p ra ctic a l purposes a lle ­
gory becomes indistinguishable from m yth. Benjam in criticizes the
a tte m p t to get away fro m the a rb itra ry s u b je c tiv ity o f allegory, as
its e lf p ure su b je c tiv ity : I t “ sweeps a w a y” the entire objective w o rld
as a “ p ha nta sm a g o ria ,” and the subject is “ le ft e n tire ly on its
o w n .” 85
I n short, B e n ja m in criticizes Baroque allegory fo r its idealism .
As T ie d e m a n n has w ritte n : “ F rom the tim e o f the Trauerspiel book,
the p ro g ra m o f B e n ja m in ’s p hilo so p h y is the a n ti-id e a lis t co nstruc­
tio n o f the in te llig ib le w o rld .” 86 I t is this p ro gram th a t binds the
Trauerspiel study to the Passagen-Werk. In 1931, B e nja m in recog­
nized the fo rm e r stu dy as “ already d ia le c tic a l,” and i f it was “ cer­
ta in ly n o t m a te ria lis t” in a M a rx is t sense, s till i t bore a “ m ed ia te d ”
176

Part I I

re la tio n sh ip to d ia le ctica l m a te ria lism .87 W hen B e n ja m in was

w o rk in g on the 1935 expose to the Passagen-Werk, he w ro te to
A d orn o:

[. . . M ]u c h more clearly than in any previous stage o f the plan (in a m an­
ner that indeed surprises me), the analogies o f this book w ith the Baroque
book come to lig h t. Y o u m ust allow me to see in this state o f affairs an
especially m eaningful co n firm a tio n o f the rem elting process w hich has led
the entire mass o f thoughts o rig in a lly set in m otion by metaphysics to an
aggregate condition in w h ich the w o rld o f dialectical images is secured
against a ll the objections provoked by metaphysics.88

T h is “ re m e ltin g process” was in fact A d o rn o ’s and B e n ja m in ’s

shared project, one th a t they had begun in 1929 d u rin g th e ir “ u n ­
forgettable conversations at K o n ig s te in ,” 89 w hen B e n ja m in firs t
discussed his Passagen-p ro je ct and read some o f the e arly notes. O ne
o f these notes reads: “ Parallels between this w o rk and the Trauer-
spiel book: B o th have the same theme: T heology o f H e ll. A lle g o ry ,
advertisem ent, Types: m a rty r, ty ra n t— w hore, s p ecu la to r.” 90 As I
have argued elsewhere, the K o n ig ste in discussion had a m om en ­
tous im p a ct on A d o rn o .91 T h e Passagea-project was perceived at the
tim e by b oth o f them as a M a rx is t re fu n ctio n in g o f the p h ilo s o p h ic ­
al m ethod o f the Trauerspiel book, m aking it “ safe,” as B e n ja m in
said— i f n o t fro m m etaphysics,92 then from “ the objections p ro ­
voked by m etaphysics,” by ty in g its tru th claim s to ta lly to the
m a te ria l w o rld . A d o rn o jo in e d e n th usia stically in this a tte m p t, n o t
o n ly teaching the Trauerspiel stu dy in his sem inar as a yo u n g p h i­
losophy professor a t the u n iv e rs ity in F ra n k fu rt am M a in (the place
th a t had rejected th is book as B e n ja m in ’s H ab ilitationsschrift93) b u t
p u ttin g a d ia le ctica l, m a te ria lis t version o f its m ethod in to pra ctice
in a c ritic a l in te rp re ta tio n o f K ie rke g a a rd 94 w h ich aim ed at n o th in g
less than the p h ilo so p h ica l liq u id a tio n o f idealism . T h is is n o t the
place to describe again the specifics o f A d o rn o ’s a rg u m e n t.95 I t can
be noted, how ever, th a t the p u b lic a tio n o f the Passagen- Werk p ro ­
vides a d d itio n a l p ro o f as to the closeness o f th e ir c o lla b o ra tio n on
th is general p roject. N o t o n ly does the “ bourgeois in te r io r ” p la y a
cru c ia l role in b o th the K ie rke g a a rd study and the Passagen- Werk96
as a “ d ia le ctica l im age” in w h ic h the re a lity o f in d u s tria l c a p ita lis m
is m anifested v is ib ly .97 W ith in the Passagen-Werk's im p o rta n t Konvo-
lu t on epistem ology, B e n ja m in makes the s trik in g ly d ia lo g ic a l ges­
tu re o f c itin g — n o t passages fro m the Trauerspiel stu dy d ire c tly —
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6 Historical Nature: Ruin

b u t A d o rn o ’s recontextualized citings o f these passages in the K ie r ­

kegaard book.98
W e have already seen how A d o rn o , in his 1932 speech (“ T h e
Id e a o f N a tu ra l H is to ry ” ), praised B e n ja m in ’s analysis o f allegory
in the Trauerspiel book in connection w ith L u ka cs’ theory o f second
n atu re as “ h o llo w e d -o u t” lite ra ry conventions. T h e next step (one
w h ic h , as they both knew, Lukacs h im s e lf took in H istory and Class
Consciousness), was to id e n tify this “ h o llo w in g -o u t” process w ith the
c o m m o d ity fo rm o f objects, and hence w ith the ca p ita lis t mode o f
p ro d u c tio n . Such an argum ent figures im p o rta n tly in A d o rn o ’s
stu dy o f K ie rke g a a rd . B u t in the Passagen-Werk i t is absolutely
ce ntral, e xp la in in g the key p o sitio n o f B audelaire as the w rite r
w ho b ro u g h t the m ute, “ new ” n a tu re o f u rb a n in d u s tria lis m to
speech, and pro vid ing the means for deciphering the historico-
p h ilo so p h ica l tru th o f th is very bourgeois poet.

W h a t I have in m ind is to show Baudelaire as he lies embedded in the

nineteenth century. The im p rin t th a t he has left behind upon it must
stand out as clearly and untouched as th a t o f a stone w hich, having rested
in a site for a decade, one day rolls from its place.99

“ A ll the visible universe is nothing b u t a shop o f images and signs.” —

Charles B audelaire100

B a u d e la ire ’ s book o f poems, Les Fleurs du mal (Flowers o f E v il), con­

dem ned as an offense to p u b lic m orals w hen i t appeared in 1857,
m anifested a ra d ic a lly new aesthetic se n sib ility th a t drew its breath
fro m the “ decadent” sense experience o f the m odern city. A t the
same tim e, these poems were concerned w ith the prem odern,
C h ris tia n p ro ble m o f sin and evil, expressed in an allegorical form
th a t had been o ut o f lite ra ry fashion since the tim e o f the Baroque.
W h ile the new aesthetic se nsibility influenced p ra c tic in g poets w ho
came after h im , it was B aud e la ire ’s re tu rn to prem odern, ethico-
religio us themes th a t preoccupied his in te rp re te rs .101 T h e la tte r
were q u ic k to com pare h im w ith D ante, whose C a th o lic beliefs and
a lle go rica l form s he shared.102 T h e y considered (as d id the poet
h im self) th a t B a ud e la ire ’s unique and genial c o n trib u tio n was to
sustain a llegory, “ ‘one o f the most ancient and n a tu ra l fo rm s’ ” 103
178

Part I I

in o rd er to express the u niversa l, h um an pro ble m o f evil w ith in the

changed context o f m odern life, thus guaranteeing the c o n tin u ity
o f lite ra ry tra d itio n despite the d is ru p tiv e shocks o f m odern
experience.
F o r B e nja m in , on the co n tra ry , the fusion o f past and present in
B a ud e la ire ’s w o rk was h ig h ly p ro b le m a tic, precisely because o f the
^ c o n t in u it y o f experience to w h ich his new aesthetic s e n s ib ility
bore w itness.104 H e saw as the ce ntral question: “ H o w is it possible
th a t an a ttitu d e w h ich at least in appearance is as o u t o f keeping
w ith its tim e as th a t o f the allegoricists, takes p rid e o f place in [Les
Fleurs du m aly] the p oetic w o rk o f the century?” 105 A n d because Ben­
ja m in considered th a t n e ith e r the p oe t’s b io g ra p h ica l p a rtic u la r­
ities n o r “ u n ive rsa l” h u m a n concerns had e xplan atory pow er, the
answer to this question was by no means self-evident.
B e n ja m in had argued in the Trauerspiel study th a t B aroque a lle­
gory was the m ode o f p ercep tion p e cu lia r to a tim e o f social d is ru p ­
tio n and p ro tra cte d w a r, w hen h u m a n suffering and m a te ria l ru in
were the s tu ff and substance o f h isto rica l experience— hence the
re tu rn o f a llegory in his ow n era as a response to the h o rrify in g
destructiveness o f W o rld W a r I. B u t the h isto ric a l experience th a t
gave b irth to Les Fleurs du mod was not comparable. Paris in the m id ­
nineteenth century, in w h ic h tim e and place B a u d e la ire ’ s poems
were w ritte n , was at the b u rs tin g p o in t o f unprecedented m a te ria l
abundance. I t was the era o f the firs t d e p artm en t stores, Hauss-
m a n n ’s boulevards, in te rn a tio n a l expositions— a w o rld a bo ut
w h ic h Balzac w ro te as e arly as 1846: “ ‘T h e grand poem o f the
e x h ib itio n o f goods sings its verses o f co lo r fro m la Madeleine to the
gate o f S a in t-D e n is.’ ” 106 T o be sure, the b lo od y Ju n e days in the
1848 R e vo lu tio n p ro vid e d a very d ifferen t image. B u t this m om en t
o f p o litic a l violence was n o t the content o f B a u d e la ire ’s p oem s.107
R athe r, it was precisely the splendor o f the new ly constructed
u rb a n pha nta sm ag oria w ith its prom ise o f change-as-progress th a t
e licited in h im the m ost p ro to ty p ic a lly m elan ch olic a lle g o ric a l re­
sponse.
“ I t is ve ry im p o rta n t th a t the m odern is n o t o n ly an epoch fo r
B audelaire, b u t an energy, by the strength o f w h ic h i t relates im ­
m ed ia te ly to a n tiq u ity ” 108— and in the alle go rica l mode. I n B aude­
la ire ’s poem, “ T h e S w an,” the poet is trave rsin g the n e w ly re b u ilt
Place du C arrousel w hen his m em ory is suddenly flooded w ith the
]7 9 _________________________

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

im age o f A n dro m a che , w ife o f H e cto r, w ho was left a w id o w w ith

the d estru ctio n o f T ro y . Superim posed on images o f m odern Paris,
this a ncient fig ure takes on alle go rica l m eaning:

A ndrom ache, I th in k o f you!

The old Paris is gone (the face o f a city

Changes more quickly, alas! than the m ortal heart)

Paris changes, but nothing o f m y m elancholy

Gives way. New palaces, scaffolding, blocks,
O ld suburbs, everything for me becomes allegory,
W h ile m y dear memories are heavier than rocks.109

W h y is it th a t B audelaire confronts the new “ ju s t as the

seventeenth-century allegoricists confronted a n tiq u ity ” ?110 W h y
does the m ost m odern face o f Paris re m in d h im o f a c ity already in
ruins? W h a t is it about the absolutely new experience o f m o d e rn ity
th a t makes its objects correspond to the a lle go rica l fo rm in w hich
the pagan figures survived in the Baroque, so hollow ed o u t o f th e ir
o rig in a l m eaning th a t they become a lle go rica l signs, this tim e o f
the p oe t’s ow n m elancholy memories? B e n ja m in ’s answer is
in tre p id .111 C itin g the Trauerspiel passage th a t traces the p a rtic u la r
character o f alle go rica l perception to the w ay the gods o f a n tiq u ity
survived as n a tu ra l form s in a C h ris tia n era th a t condem ned na­
ture, he w rites:

F or B audelaire one comes closer to the facts i f one reverses the form ula.
The allegorical experience was o rig in a l for h im ; one can say that he
appropriated from a n tiq u ity , and from the C h ristia n era as well, only
w h a t was needed in order to set this o rig in a l experience— w hich had a sui
generis substrate— in to m otion in his p o e try.112

N o w B e n ja m in makes the c la im th a t i f in Baroque a llegory the de­

basement o f n a tu re had its source in C h ris tia n ity ’s c o n fro n ta tio n
w ith pagan a n tiq u ity , in the nineteenth ce n tu ry the debasement o f
the “ new ” n a tu re has its source in the p ro d u c tio n process itself:
“ T h e d e va lu a tio n o f the w o rld o f objects w ith in a llegory is outdone
w ith in the w o rld o f objects its e lf by the c o m m o d ity .” 113 B e nja m in
cites M a rx : “ ’ I f one considers the concept o f value, then the actual
object is regarded o n ly as a sign; it counts n o t as itself, b u t as w h a t
it is w o rth .’ ” 114 C om m od itie s relate to th e ir value in the m a rke t­
place ju s t as a rb itra rily as things relate to th e ir m eanings w ith in
180

Part I I

6.7 Store W indow , Avenue dcs Gobelins, photograph by Eugene A tget, Paris, 1925.
181__________________________

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

Baroque em blem atics. “ T h e em blem s re tu rn as co m m od ities.” 115

T h e ir abstract and a rb itra ry m eaning is th e ir price (figu re 6.7).
A g a in , B e n ja m in appeals to M a rx :

“ W ith its price tag the com m odity enters the market. I f its substantive
q u a lity and in d iv id u a lity create the incentive to buy, for the social evalua­
tion o f its w o rth this is to ta lly u n im p o rtan t. The com m odity has become
an abstraction. Once it has escaped from the hand o f its producers and is
freed from its real p a rtic u la rity , it has ceased to be a product controlled by
hum an beings. I t has taken on a ‘phantom -like o b je c tiv ity ,’ and leads its
own life. ‘A com m odity appears at firs t glance a self-sufficient, triv ia l
thing. Its analysis shows th a t it is a bew ildering thing, fu ll o f metaphysical
subtleties and theological capers.’ ” 116

B e n ja m in com m ents:

The “ metaphysical subtleties” in w hich, according to M a rx , [the com­

m odities] indulge, are above a ll those o f fixin g th e ir price. H ow the price
o f the com m odity is arrived at can never be to ta lly foreseen, not in the
course o f its production, nor later when it finds its e lf in the market. B ut
ju s t this is w hat happens w ith the object in its allegorical existence. The
meaning w hich the melancholy o f the allegoricist consigns to it is not one
that was expected. B u t once it contains such meaning, then the la tte r can
at any tim e be removed in favor o f any other. The fashions o f meanings [in
Baroque allegory] changed almost as ra p id ly as the prices o f comm odities
change. T he meaning o f the com m odity is indeed: Price; as com m odity
it has no other. Thus the allegoricist w ith the com m odity is in his
elem ent.117

In the n in eteenth century, allegory d id n o t become a style as it had

in the Baroque: “ As an allegoricist, B audelaire was isolated.” 118
B u t w hen he gave alle go rica l fo rm to the m odern, he expressed
w h a t the objects o f his w o rld had tru ly become— even i f th is was
n o t his conscious in te n t,119 and even i f he had no u n d ersta nd in g o f
the objective o rigin s o f th e ir a lle go rica l status. “ T h e possible estab­
lis h m e n t o f p ro o f th a t his poe try transcribes reveries experienced
u n d e r hashish in no w ay in va lid a te s this in te rp re ta tio n .” 120
B u t i f the social value (hence the m eaning) o f com m odities is
th e ir price, this does n o t p revent them fro m being a p p ro p ria te d by
consumers as w ish images w ith in the em blem books o f th e ir p riv a te
d re a m w o rld . F or th is to occur, estrangem ent o f the com m odities
fro m th e ir in itia l m eaning as use-values produced by h um an la b o r
is in fact the p rerequisite. I t is, a fte r a ll, the n atu re o f the alle go rica l
object th a t once the in itia l h o llo w in g out o f m eaning has occurred
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Part I I

and a new sig n ifica tio n has been a rb itra rily inserted in to it, this
m eaning “ can at any tim e be rem oved in fa vo r o f any o th e r.” A d o r­
no described the process this w ay: “ *[. . .T ]h e alienated objects
become h ollow ed o u t and d ra w in m eanings as ciphers. S u b je c tiv ­
ity takes c o n tro l o f th em by lo a d in g them w ith in te n tio n s o f w ish
and a n x ie ty ’ ” 121— and B e n ja m in added: “ T o these thoughts i t
should be noted th a t in the nineteenth ce n tu ry the n u m b e r o f
‘h ollo w e d -o u t objects’ increases in a mass and tem po p re vio u sly
u n k n o w n .” 122 B a u d e la ire ’s a lle go rica l representations were a n ti­
th e tica l to the m y th ic fo rm o f the objects as w ish images. H e
showed, n o t the com m odities fille d w ith p riv a te dream s, b u t p r i­
vate dream s as h ollow ed o u t as the com m odities. A n d i f his poetic
representation o f the new n atu re d id n o t concern lite ra lly its price,
he was d ra w n to the a lle go rica l a ttitu d e precisely because o f the
ephem eral value w h ich was the m a rk o f the co m m o d ity on d isp lay.
T h e poem, “ T h e C onfession,” reveals:

T h a t it is a sad trade to be a lovely woman,

T h a t it is the banal labor
O f a dancer who entertains, manic, cold, and fa in tin g
W ith her m echanical smile.

T h a t to try to b u ild on hearts is a foolish thing;

T h a t a ll things crack— love and beauty—
U n til O b liv io n throws them in his sack
V o id in g them to e te rn ity !123

B a u d e la ire ’s poe try rip p e d a p a rt the h a rm o n iz in g pretensions o f

the m y th ic pha nta sm ag oria th a t was ju s t then congealing a round
the com m odities: “ ‘T h e century su rro u n d in g h im th a t otherw ise
seems to be flo u ris h in g and m a n ifo ld , assumes the te rrib le appear­
ance o f a desert.’ ” 124 B e n ja m in notes in this context: “ T h e a llegory
o f B a ud e la ire — in co ntrast to the B aroque— has the m a rk o f
rage.” 125 T h e destructiveness o f his use o f a llegory was in te n tio n a l:
“ B audelairean alle go ry bears traces o f violence, w h ic h was neces­
sary in o rd e r to r ip away the h arm onious facade o f the w o rld th a t
surrounded h im .” 126 T h e images disclosed beh in d this facade be­
came emblem s o f his ow n in n e r life. T o them he w ro te his poems as
captions.
“ I f B a udelaire d id n o t fa ll in to the abyss o f m y th th a t co n sta n tly
accom panied his p ath , it was thanks to the genius o f a lle g o ry .” 127
]8 3 _________________________

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

As e xem plary o f B a ud e la ire ’s use o f “ a llegory against m y th ,” 128

B e n ja m in names “ M o rn in g T w ilig h t,” a poem th a t expresses “ the
sobbing a lo ud o f the person w a kin g up, represented in the s tu ff and
substance o f the c ity .” 129 H e notes a “ key passage” where “ the
m o rn in g w in d drives o u t the clouds o f m yth . T h e view o f the people
and how th ey [them selves] p rom ote these clouds is la id free” 130—
in the poem: “ T h e a ir is fu ll o f the shiver o f things e scaping,/A nd
the m an is w eary o f w ritin g , the w om an o f lo ve .” 131 B u t Baude­
la ire ’s use o f force against m y th is lim ite d to te a rin g away the p han­
tasm agoria by means o f his images o f the c ity ’s exhausted
in h a b ita n ts — p rostitutes in d u ll sleep, poo r w om en w a kin g to the
cold, d y in g people in hosp ital beds, n ig h t revellers staggering
home. I t combines w ith ina ction .

T he description nowhere has in view getting its hands on the object; its
task is solely to blanket the shivering o f one who feels h im se lf ripped anew
out o f the protection o f sleep.132

T h e m ood o f the poem ’s last lines is one o f resignation:

D aw n, shivering in her rose and green attire,

Makes her slow way along the deserted Seine
W h ile m elancholy Paris, old laborer,
Rubs his eyes, and gathers up his tools.133

In d ic a tiv e o f B a ud e la ire ’s “ rage” against the c ity ’s phantasm ago­

ria is his rejection o f those elements o f nineteenth-century style that
c o n trib u te d m ost ce n tra lly to the “ harm onious facade” o f Paris in
the Second E m p ire : on the one hand, the a tte m p t to represent the
new natu re in the organic form s o f the old, and on the other, the
a h isto rica l use o f the form s o f classical a n tiq u ity . W ith regard to the
fo rm e r, in co ntrast to co ntem porary poets like H u g o w ho were fond
o f d escrib ing the m etro po lis and its u n d u la tin g crow ds w ith images
o f the ocean,134 in B audelaire, org an ic n atu re is its e lf m echanized
(the “ flo w e rs” o f E v il makes the c ity its to p ic 135; the hum an body
assumes in d u s tria l fo rm s 136). W ith regard to the la tte r, th a t neo-
classicism w hich saw a n tiq u ity as a sign o f eternal ve rity rather than
m a te ria l transiency fille d B audelaire w ith contem pt. H is invective
against the idealized representation o f pagan themes, w rites Ben­
ja m in , “ rem inds one o f the m edieval clerics. C hubby-cheeked
c u p id receives his special hatred [ . . . ] . ” 137 T h e reference is to
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Part I I

B a u d e la ire ’s “ vehem ent inve ctive against C u p id — a propos o f a

c ritiq u e o f the neo-G reek school” 138:

“ A n d yet are we not very weary o f seeing pa in t and m arble squandered on

beh a lf o f this elderly scamp [ . . . ] ? [ . . . ] his h a ir is th ickly curled like a
coachman’s w ig; his fat w o b b lin g cheeks press against his nostrils and his
eyes; i t is doubtless the elegiac sighs o f the universe w hich distend his
flesh, or perhaps I should ra th e r call it his meat, for it is stuffed, tu b u la r
and blow n out like a bag o f lard hanging on a butcher’s hook; on his
m ountainous back is attached a p a ir o f b u tte rfly ’s w ings.” 139

T h e fig u re o f C u p id was, o f course, intended to have q u ite the

opposite effect. Ico n o f co m m ercialized love, it appeared every­
where in the nineteenth ce n tu ry fro m salon p ain tin g s to the edible
creations o f confectioners. B e n ja m in refers to the “ tension between
em blem and a d ve rtisin g im a ge .” 140 W ith in a dve rtisin g, a new, d is­
s im u la tin g aura is inje cted in to the co m m o d ity, easing its passage
in to the dream w o rld o f the p riv a te consum er. In contrast, the a lle ­
g o rica l in te n tio n p o in ts b ackw ard in tim e, as i f p u z z lin g to rem em ­
ber an o rig in a l m eaning th a t has been lost.

[. . .T ]h e purpose o f the advertisem ent is to b lu r over the com m odity

character o f things. A lle g o ry struggles against this deceptive tra n sfig u ring
o f the com m odity-w o rld by d isfig u rin g it. T he com m odity tries to look
its e lf in the face.141

A d v e rtis in g images a tte m p t to “ h um an ize ” products in o rd e r to

deny th e ir co m m o d ity character; consumers continue th is effort
w hen th ey p ro vid e cases and covers fo r th e ir possessions, sen­
tim e n ta lly p ro v id in g them a “ hom e.” 142 In contrast, B a ud e la ire
sought, “ in a heroic w a y ,” 143 to present the co m m o d ity its e lf in
h um an fo rm . As the a ntithesis o f C u p id on a candy box, he “ cele­
brates [th e c o m m o d ity ’s] becom ing hum an in the w h o re .” 144
T h e p ro s titu te is the u r-fo rm o f the wage lab ore r, se lling herself
in o rd e r to su rv iv e .145 P ro s titu tio n is indeed an o bjective em blem
o f c a p ita lism , a h ie ro g lyp h o f the tru e natu re o f social re a lity in
the sense th a t the E g y p tia n h ieroglyphs were view ed b y the
Renaissance146— and in M a r x ’s sense as w ell: “ ’V a lu e transform s
... every p ro d u c t o f la b o r in to a social h ie ro g lyp h . People then tr y to
decode the m eaning o f the h ie ro g lyp h in o rd e r to get b e h in d the
secret o f th e ir ow n social p ro d u c t [ . . , ] . ’ ” 147 T h e im age o f the
w hore reveals this secret like a rebus. W hereas every trace o f the
] 8 5 _________________________

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

wage la b o re r w ho produced the co m m o d ity is extinguished w hen it

is to rn o u t o f context by its e x h ib itio n on d is p la y ,148 in the p ro s ti­
tute, both m om ents rem ain visible. As a d ia le c tic a l image, she
“ synthesizes” 149 the fo rm o f the co m m o d ity and its content: She is
“ c o m m o d ity and seller in one.” 150
B a ud e la ire makes m odern, m e tro p o lita n p ro s titu tio n “ one o f the
m ain objects o f his p o e try .” 151 N o t o n ly is the w hore the subject
m a tte r o f his ly ric a l expression; she is the m odel fo r his ow n a c tiv ­
ity . T h e “ p ro s titu tio n o f the poet,” B aud e la ire believed, was “ an
una voida b le necessity.” 152 H e w rote in an early poem (addressed
to a streetw alker): “ T w ho sell m y thoughts and w ish to be an
a u th o r.’ ” 153 I n the cycle, Spleen and Ideal: “ ‘T h e V e n a l M u s e ’ shows
how intensely B audelaire at tim es saw in lite ra ry p u b lic a tio n a kind
o f p ro s titu tio n ” 154:

Like a choir boy, you swing a censer

T o earn yo u r evening bread,
Singing Te Deums in w hich you don’t believe,

O r, starving acrobat, you display for sale

Y o u r charm s and smile, soaked w ith unseen tears,
T o cheer the spleen o f the vulgar h e rd .155

As w ith a ll n in etee nth-cen tu ry c u ltu ra l producers, the poet’s liv e li­

hood depended on the new, mass m arketplace in o rd er to sell his
poems, a fact o f w h ich B audelaire was w e ll a w a re ,156 even as he
resisted it and p aid the fin a n cia l consequences.157 B e n ja m in w rote:
“ B a udelaire knew how things re a lly stood fo r the lite ra ry m an: As
fla ne ur, he goes to the m arketplace, supposedly to take a look at it,
b u t already in re a lity to fin d a b u y e r.” 158
I t was in fact d u rin g his flanerie th a t B audelaire composed his
poems. A t tim es he d id n ot ow n a w o rk ta b le .159 H e made aimless
w a n d e rin g th ro u g h the c ity streets its e lf a m ethod o f p ro du ctive
lab or. In “ T h e Sun” :

I w alk alone, practicing m y fantastic fencing

Sniffing at every risk-fille d corner for a rhym e
S tum bling over words like cobblestones
C o llid in g at times w ith lines I dreamed o f long ago.160
186____
Part I I

T h e c ity o f Paris is n o t often described in B a u d e la ire ’s poems;

ra th e r, i t is the “ scene o f th e ir a c tio n ” (Schauplatz) , 161 the necessary
setting fo r im a g istic renderings o f those m om ents o f existence th a t
B aud e la ire d id n o t so m uch experience as endure, o r “ suffer”
(leiden) . 162 T h e y entered his m em ory as a disconnected sequence o f
o p tic a l d isp la ys.163 Paris, how ever fa m ilia r ,164 gave h im no sense o f
belonging. Its crow ds were his refuge165; its streets the room s w here
he w orked. Y e t a lth o u g h he was born there: “ N o one fe lt less at
hom e in Paris th an B a u d e la ire .” 166 T h e poet w rote: “ ‘ W h a t are the
dangers o f the forest and p ra iries next to the d a ily shocks and con­
flicts o f c iv iliz a tio n ? ’ ” 167 P a rry in g these shocks o n ly served to iso­
late the in d iv id u a l m ore fu lly .168 T h e w o rld in w h ic h B aud e la ire
had become “ a n a tiv e ,” d id “ n o t thereby g ro w any m ore
frie n d ly .” 169 “ T h e a lle go rica l in te n tio n is alien to every in tim a c y
w ith th ing s. T o to uch them is to vio la te them . W here it reigns, even
habits cannot be established.” 170
B e n ja m in w rites: “ A H e ll rages in the soul o f the co m m o d ity
[ . . . ] . ” 171 Precisely the Baroque visio n o f H e ll retu rns here: a g u il­
ty and abandoned n a tu re th a t can no longer “ fin d its m eaning fu l­
fille d in its e lf,” p lu ng ed in to an abyss o f a rb itra ry , tra n s ito ry m ean­
ings, pursued by the “ alle go rica l in te n tio n ” th a t, in its desire fo r
know ledge, falls “ fro m em blem to e m blem ” in to “ the bottom less
d ep ths.” 172 I t is the rea lm in w h ich the d e vil reigns suprem e. T h e
vision o f the abyss hau nte d B audelaire: “ F o r a long tim e ... it seems
th a t I have had a dream th a t I am tu m b lin g across the v o id and a
crow d o f idols m ade o f w ood, iro n , gold and silve r fa ll w ith me,
fo llo w me in m y fa ll, p o u n d in g and sh atterin g m y head and
lo in s .” 173
In “ T h e Irre m e d ia b le ,” P aris’ n ig h ttim e streets become an
“ em blem catalogue” 174 o f H e ll:

Someone condemned, descending w ith o u t lig h t,

A t the edge o f an abyss. . .

W here viscous monsters lie w a itin g

T h e ir large and phosphorous eyes
M a k in g the dark n ig h t darker s till.175

As fla n e u r, B aud e la ire “ em pathized h im s e lf in to the soul o f the

c o m m o d ity .” 176 H is em p ath y sprang fro m a m im e tic capacity
w h ic h its e lf p arallele d the c o m m o d ity ’s ca pacity to take on various
UJ7_________________________
6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

m eanings. I t w en t so fa r as to affect his personal appearance: “ O n

the physiognom y o f B audelaire as th a t o f a m im e: C o u rb e t [w ho
was p a in tin g the poet’s p o rtra it] reported th a t he looked different
every d a y.” 177 B audelaire was “ his ow n im p re sa rio ,” 178 d is p la y in g
h im s e lf in d ifferen t id e n titie s — now fla ne ur, now w hore; now
ra g p ic k e r,179 now dandy. H e “ played the role o f a poet [ . . . ] before
a society th a t a lready no longer needed real ones” 180; he w rote o f
“ b ra cin g his nerves to p la y a hero’s p a rt.” 181 N o t the least o f his
roles was as the D e v il him self, com plete w ith the satanic gesture:
“ ‘the sneering la u g h te r o f H e ll.’ ” 182 B e n ja m in com m ents: “ Pre­
cisely this la u g h te r is [ . . . ] p e cu lia r to B audelaire [ . . . ] . ” 183 “ H is
contem poraries often referred to som ething about his w ay o f
la u g h in g th a t gave one a fr ig h t.” 184 In his poetry:

Am I not a false chord

In the divine symphony,
Thanks to voracious Irony
Who jolts and gnaws at me?185

In e m p a th izin g w ith the co m m o d ity, B aud e la ire assumed its g u ilt

as his ow n: “ [W ]h e n B audelaire depicts d e p ra v ity and vice, he
alw ays includes him self. H e doesn’ t kn ow the gesture o f the
s a tiris t.” 186 N ote th a t th is “ d e p ra v ity ” is n o t physical desire b u t its
in s a tia b ility ,187 n o t sexual pleasure b u t its futureless re p e titio n ,188
n o t the d isp la y o f sexual beauty b u t its fe tishistic fra g m e n ta tio n ,189
and the ra p id ity w ith w h ich o rganic life is discarded as useless.190
In short, i t is n o t m a te ria l n a tu re itself, b u t the q u a litie s th a t i t
assumes in its co m m o d ity fo rm . T h e poem, “ T h e D e s tru c tio n ,”
provides an alle go rica l representation o f these qua litie s:

Ceaselessly, the devil agitates my ribs

Surrounding me like an impalpable vapor
I swallow, and sense him burning in my lungs,
F illing them w ith endless, guilty desire.

He throws in my eyes, bewildered and deluded,

Soiled garments, opened wounds,
And the bloody implements o f destruction.191

B e n ja m in w rite s:

The “ bloody implements” [appareil sanglant], the display o f which is thrust

upon the poet by the devil, is allegory’s courtyard: the strewn implements
188

Part I I

w ith which allegory has so disfigured and mauled the material world that
only fragments remain as the object o f its contemplation.192

R athe r than seeing se xu a lity as the in s tru m e n t o f d e stru ctio n in this

poem, B e n ja m in claim s i t is the p oe t’s “ a lle go rica l in te n tio n ” th a t
violates the scene o f pleasure, rip p in g a p a rt the m y th o f sexual love,
the illu s o ry prom ise o f happiness th a t reigns suprem e in co m m od ­
ity society. T h e poem , “ A M a r ty r ,” “ ric h in connections by its
p o sitio n in g im m e d ia te ly after ‘T h e D e s tru c tio n ,’ ” 193 is a tableau,
lite ra lly a nature morte: I t depicts a decapitated w om an in her
bloodstained bed, m urde re d by her “ lo v e r” ; a rose and gold
stocking “ rem ains on her leg like a souve nir” ; her head “ rests like
a renonculous upon the n ighttable.” 194 Benjam in comments: “ T he
allegorical in te n tio n has done its w o rk on th is m a rty r: She is
smashed to pieces.” 195
B aud e la ire experienced the co m m o d ity— the a lle go rica l o bject—
“ from the in sid e ,” 196 w h ic h is to say th a t his experiences were
themselves com m odities. “ T h e allegories [in B a ud e la ire ’s poems]
stand fo r w h a t the co m m o d ity has m ade o u t o f the experiences th a t
people in this ce ntu ry have.” 197 I t affects the m ost basic b io lo g ic a l
drives:

“ In the end, we have, [ . . . ] haughty priests o f the Lyre,

D runk w ithout thirst; eaten w ithout desire.” 198

I t affects, above a ll, lib id in a l desire, severing the sexual in s tin c t o f

pleasure (Sexus) fro m the life in s tin c t o f p ro cre a tio n (Eros). B en­
ja m in com m ents on B a u d e la ire ’s d escrip tio n o f lovers “ tire d o u t by
th e ir la b o rs” :

W ith the Saint-Simonians, industrial labor appears in the ligh t o f the sex
act; the idea o f jo y in work is conceived according to the image o f the
desire to procreate. Tw o decades later the relationship has reversed: The
sex act itself stands under the sign o f that joylessness which crushes the
industrial w orker.199

I t is in the fo rm o f self-alienation, the “ h o llo w in g o u t o f in n e r

life ” 200 w h ic h is “ e u p h e m istica lly called ‘lived experience’
(Erlebnis) ” 201 th a t the co m m o d ity fo rm finds expression in B aude­
la ire ’ s p oetry.
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6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

The unique significance o f Baudelaire consists in his having been the first
and most unswerving to have made the self-estranged person dingfest in
the double sense o f the term [i.e., apprehended it, and taken it into
custody].202

Experience is “ w ith e re d ,” 203 a series o f “ souvenirs.” “ T h e ‘sou­

v e n ir’ [Andenken] is the schema o f the tra n sfo rm a tio n o f the com ­
m o d ity in to a co lle ctor’s ite m .” 204 In B a u d e la ire ’s poetry, the
experiences o f his own in n e r life are subject to this same fate.
B e n ja m in explains:

The souvenir is the complement of the Erlebnis. In it is deposited the in­

creasing self-alienation o f the person who inventories his [/her] past as
dead possessions. Allegory left the field of the exterior world in the
nineteenth century in order to settle in the inner one.205

B audelaire, “ inco m p a ra ble as a p on d e re r,” 206 inve ntoried the m o­

ments o f his past life as a c lu tte r o f discarded possessions, try in g to
rem em ber th e ir m eaning, try in g to fin d th e ir “ correspondences.” 207
In “ Spleen I I , ” this is made e xp licit:

I have more memories than i f I had lived a thousand years.

A chest o f drawers littered w ith balance sheets,
W ith verses, love letters, romantic songs, law suits,
W ith a thick plait o f hair wrapped up in some receipts,
Hides fewer secrets than my own sad brain.
I t is a pyramid, an immense cave
Full o f more corpses than a common grave.
— I am a cemetery abhorred by the moon,
Where, like remorse, long earthworms crawl and gnaw
Incessantly at the dead most dear to me.
I am an old boudoir w ith faded roses
And tangled heaps o f clothes now out o f date [. . .].208

B e n ja m in ’s p o in t is th a t these discarded objects are n o t a m etaphor

fo r B a u d e la ire ’s emptiness, b u t its source.209
H e notes: “ T o establish: T h a t Jeanne D u v a l was B a ud e la ire ’s
firs t lo ve .” 210 Ifje a n n e D u va l, the p ro s titu te w ho became the poet’s
m istress, was indeed his firs t love, then the experience o f the com ­
m o d ity stood at the very o rig in o f his m atu re desire. In the poems
w ritte n fo r her, she appears reified, m otionless, in o rg a n ic — and
therefore lasting. B e nja m in notes:
190

Part I I

Fetish:
“ Her polished eyes are made o f charming jewels
And in her strange, symbolic nature where
Inviolate angel mingles w ith ancient sphinx,

Where all is gold, steel, ligh t and diamonds

There shines forever, like a useless star,
The cold majesty o f the sterile woman.” 211

A n d again: “ O jet-e yed statue, great angel w ith brazen face!” 212
Such im agery reveals sexual pleasure as “ to ta lly in c o m p a tib le
w ith com fortableness [G em utlichkeit\.” 2n B a u d e la ire ’ s lon g a ffa ir
w ith Jeanne D u v a l was his m ost in tim a te hum an re la tio n s h ip . B u t
w ith his “ p ro fou n d p ro test against the o rg a n ic,” 214 his desire fo r
h er merges w ith n e cro p h ilia . H e describes her: “ ‘B lin d and d e a f
m achine, fe rtile in cru e ltie s,’ ” and B e nja m in com m ents: H ere
“ sadistic fantasy tends to w a rd m echanical co n stru ctio n s.” 215 O n
“ Y o u w hom I w o rs h ip ” (to Jeanne D u v a l) B e n ja m in w rites: “ no­
where m ore clea rly th a n in this poem is sex played o ff against
eros.” 216 T h e last verse:

I advance the attack and climb in assault,

Like a chorus of worms going after a corpse,
I cherish you, O, implacable, cruel beast!
Right through to the coldness which pleases me best!217

P ro s titu tio n , the oldest profession, takes on to ta lly new q u a litie s in

the m odern m etro po lis:

Prostitution opens up the possibility o f a mythical communication w ith

the masses. The emergence o f the masses is, however, simultaneous w ith
that o f mass production. A t the same time prostitution seems to contain
the possibility o f surviving in a living space in which the objects o f our
most intimate use are increasingly mass articles. In the prostitution o f
large cities the woman herself becomes a mass article. I t is this totally new
signature o f big-city life that gives real meaning to Baudelaire’s reception
o f the [ancient] doctrine o f original sin.218

T h e m odern p ro s titu te is a mass a rticle in the “ precise sense,” due

to the fashions and m akeup th a t cam ouflage her “ in d iv id u a l ex­
pression,” and package her as an id e n tifia b le type: “ la te r this is
\ 9 \________________
6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

underscored by the unifo rm ed g irls in the re vie w .” 219 B e nja m in

notes:

T hat it was this aspect o f the prostitute which was decisive for Baudelaire
is indicated not the least by the fact that in his many evocations o f the
whore, the bordello never provides the backdrop, although the street often
does.220

T h e m ass-produced a rticle had its ow n a llu re .221 B e nja m in

observes: “ W ith the new m a n u fa ctu rin g processes th a t leads to
im ita tio n s , an illu s o ry appearance [ Schein] settles in to the
c o m m o d ity .” 222 B audelaire was n o t im m u n e to its in to x ic a tio n . H e
w rote: “ ‘T h e pleasure o f being w ith in the crow d is a m ysterious
expression o f the d e lig h t [jouissance] o f the m u ltip lic a tio n o f
n u m b e rs.’ ” 223 B u t in B a u d e la ire ’s “ strateg ica lly p osition ed ” 224
poem , “ T h e Seven O ld M e n ,” this pleasurable appearance o f the
crow d is rip p e d away: T h e poem, claim s B e nja m in , exposes the
h um an physiognom y o f mass p ro d u ctio n . I t takes the fo rm o f an
“ a n x ie ty -fille d p ha nta sm ag oria,” a “ seven-times repeated a p p a ri­
tio n o f a re p ulsive-loo king old m a n .” 225

He was not bent, but broken, and his spine

Formed such a sharp right angle w ith his leg
T h a t his walking stick, perfecting his demeanor
Gave him the contour and the clumsy gait
O f some lame animal [. . . ].

His likeness followed: beard, eye, back, cane, tatters,

Spawned from the same Hell; no tra it distinguished
His centenarian twin, and both these baroque specters
Marched w ith the same tread toward an unknown goal.

T o what infamous plot was I exposed,

O r what evil luck humiliated me thus?
For seven times, as I counted minute to minute
This sinister old fellow m ultiplied!226

T h e “ b ro ke n ” old m an, fo r a ll his repulsive eccentricities, is as

m uch a rep etitio us “ typ e ” o f the in d u s tria l c ity as the wom an-as-
c o m m o d ity (figure 6.8), and B e n ja m in makes the d ire ct associa­
tio n : “ ‘T h e Seven O ld M e n ’ [ . . . ] R eview g irls .” 227 B o th express
the “ d ia le c tic o f co m m o d ity p ro d u c tio n in h ig h c a p ita lis m ” 228: the
shock o f the new, and its incessant re p e titio n .
192
P a rt I I

6.8 “ T ille r G irls ,” B erlin, W eim ar Period.

193_________________________
6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

E x p la in in g w h y the mass a rticle is a source generally o f anxiety,

B e n ja m in w rites:

The individual represented thus [as in “ The Seven O ld M en” ] in his

multiplication as always-the-same testifies to the anxiety of the city dwel­
ler that, despite having set into motion his most eccentric peculiarities, he
w ill not be able to break the magic circle o f the type.229

A n d he w rite s sp ecifically o f B audelaire:

Baudelaire’s eccentric peculiarities were a mask under which, one may

say out o f shame, he tried to hide the supra-individual necessity o f his
form o f life, and to a certain degree his life course as well.230

B a u d e la ire ’s bohem ian eccentricities were as m uch econom ic

necessities231 as gestures o f n onconform ism . In the new co nditions
o f the m arketplace, poetic “ o rig in a lity ” was no less the v ic tim o f
the loss o f “ a ura ” th an were the mass articles o f in d u s tria l p ro ­
d u c tio n . B e n ja m in claim s th a t B a ud e la ire ’s p re vio u sly neglected
frag m en t, “ Loss o f a H a lo ,” is o f a significance th a t “ cannot be
overestim ated ,” because it in fact acknowledges this changed
status o f poetic genius, b rin g in g o u t “ the th re a t to aura th ro u g h
the experience o f shock.” 232 In th is frag m en t B audelaire relates
a sto ry o f losing his halo on the m u d d y street pavem ent. So as
n o t to ris k b reaking his neck in the “ m oving chaos” o f the traffic,
he leaves it there, amused th a t “ some bad p o e t” m ig h t p ick it up
and “ a do rn h im s e lf w ith i t . ” 233 B e n ja m in w rites: “ T h e loss o f halo
concerns the poet firs t o f all. H e is forced to e x h ib it his own
person in the m arketplace ” 234— whereas “ the e x h ib itio n o f a u ra ”
fro m now on becomes “ an affair o f fifth -ra n k poets.” 235
T h e lack o f aura in B a ud e la ire ’ s p oetry has an objective source:
“ T h e mass a rticle stood before B a u d e la ire ’s eyes as m o d e l.” 236 H is
p o e try bears witness th a t not even the stars were spared its im p act:
As “ the rebus im age o f the c o m m o d ity ,” stars are “ the always-
again-the-sam e in great masses.” 237
B e n ja m in considers i t exem plary o f the “ re n u n c ia tio n o f the
m agic o f distance” and the “ e xtin ctio n o f illu s o ry appearances” in
B a u d e la ire ’s poe try th a t in his skies, “ the stars recede.” 238 L is tin g
the “ m a in passages a bo ut stars in B a u d e la ire ,” B e nja m in notes
th a t they m ost fre q u e n tly concern th e ir absence ( “ d a rk n ig h t” ;
“ n ig h t w ith o u t stars,” e tc.).239 H e refers to “ E ve nin g T w ilig h t,” 240
in w h ic h s ta rlig h t is no m atch fo r the c ity ’s illu m in a tio n :
194

Part I I

[. . . UJnhealthy demons in the atmosphere

Awaken as sluggishly as businessmen,
Banging shutters and porch roofs in their flight.
And through the lam plight trem bling w ith the wind,
Prostitution ignites, blazing in the street.241

C h a ra cte ristic o f aura, besides its “ u niqu e phenom enon o f

distance,” 242 was the sense th a t “ the gaze is re tu rn e d .” 243 Precisely
this is denied by B a u d e la ire ’s images:

“ I know o f eyes more melancholy,

Emptier and deeper than yourselves, O Skies!” 244

A n d again:

“ Your eyes, illum inated like shop windows,

Insolently make use o f borrowed power.” 245

T h e poet “ has become a ddicted to those b la n k eyes w h ic h do n o t

re tu rn his glance, and subm its w ith o u t illu sion s to th e ir sw ay.” 246
“ In the econom y o f the psyche, the mass a rtic le appears as an
obsessive ide a.” 247 B e n ja m in notes “ the a ttra c tio n th a t a few sm all
num bers o f basic situ a tio n s exercised on B a udelaire [ . . . . ] H e
seems to have stood u n d e r the obsession o f tu rn in g back to every
one o f his m a in m otifs a t least once.” 248 I t is this, claim s B e n ja m in ,
n o t “ some ingenious o rd e rin g o f the poems, le t alone any secret
ke y,” 249 th a t determ ines the s tru ctu re o f LesJieurs du mal. T h e source
o f this re p e titio n “ lies in the s tric t exclusion o f every ly ric a l them e
th a t d id n o t bear the stam p o f B a ud e la ire ’s ow n, su ffe rin g -fille d
experience.” 250 M ore o ve r, B a udelaire tu rn e d this in n e r psycho­
log ical ch a ra cte ristic in to a m a rke t advantage. In his a tte m p t to
compete in the lite ra ry m arketplace, where p o e try was an especially
vu ln era ble c o m m o d ity ,251 he had to d istin g u ish his ow n w o rk fro m
th a t o f o the r poets.252 “ H e w anted to create a p o n cif [stereotype;
cliche ]. L e m a itre assured h im th a t he had succeeded.” 253

Baudelaire— through his .deep experience o f the nature o f the

commodity— was able, or forced, to acknowledge the market as an objec­
tive authority [. . .]. He was perhaps the first to have conceived o f an
originality that was market-oriented, and that precisely by that fact was
more original at the time than any other (to create a poncif) . This creation
195

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

included a certain intolerance. Baudelaire wanted to make room for his

poems, and w ith this goal in mind, to repress [. . . ] the competition.254

B a u d e la ire ’s obsession, his “ sp ecialty” 255 (indeed, his trad e ­

m a rk 256), was the “ ‘sensation o f the n ew .’ ” 257 B e nja m in speaks
o f “ the ine stim a b le value fo r B aud e la ire o f nouveaute. T h e new
cannot be interpreted , or com pared. I t becomes the u ltim a te re­
tre n ch m e n t o f a rt.” 258 M a k in g n o ve lty “ the highest va lu e ” was
the strategy o f Fart pour Fart, the aesthetic p osition Baudelaire
adopted in 1852. As n onconform ism , it was in “ reb ellion against
the su rren de r o f a rt to the m a rk e t.” 259 Iro n ic a lly , however, this
“ last lin e o f resistance o f a rt” converged w ith the co m m o d ity fo rm
th a t threatened it: N o ve lty is “ the quintessence o f false conscious­
ness, the tireless agent o f w h ic h is fashion.” 260 I t is the “ appearance
o f the new [th a t] is reflected like one m ir r o r in another in the
appearance o f the alw ays-the-sam e.” 261 T h e same d ia le ctic o f te m ­
p o ra lity lies concealed in B a u d e la ire ’s ow n sensibility.
B aud e la ire “ d id n ot know n o sta lg ia .” 262 A t the same tim e, he
renounced progress:

I t is very significant that “ the new” in Baudelaire in no way makes a

contribution to progress. [. . . ] I t is above all the “ belief in progress” that
he persecutes w ith hate, as a heresy, a false doctrine, not merely a simple
error.263

T h e o bject o f B aud e la ire ’s d estructive a tta ck against the phantas­

m ag oria o f his age thus inclu de d the “ harm o nio us facade” o f con­
tin uo us h is to ric a l progress. In its place, expressed in his poems is
(in P ro u st’s w ords) “ ‘a strange sectioning o f tim e ,’ ” 264 shock-like
segments o f “ e m p ty tim e ,” 265 each o f w h ic h is like a “ ‘w a rn in g
s ig n a l.’ ” 266 H is “ spleen places a ce n tu ry between the present m o ­
m en t and the one th a t has ju s t been liv e d .” 267.
W ith o u t c o n tin u ity , w ith o u t a b e lie f in the fu tu re , B a ud e la ire ’s
“ ‘passion fo r trave l, fo r the u n kn o w n , the new ’ ” becomes a “ ‘p re f­
erence fo r w h a t is rem iniscent o f d e a th .’ ” 268 “ T h e last poem o f the
Fleurs du m at (“ Le V oyage” ) — ” 0 D eath, o ld captain, it is tim e!
L if t the a n ch o r!’ T h e last jo u rn e y o f the fla n e u r D eath. Its goal:
N o v e lty .” 269 Indeed: “ F or people as they are today, there is o n ly
one ra d ic a l n o ve lty— and th a t is alw ays the same: D e a th .” 270 “ T o
one fille d w ith spleen, i t is the entom bed person w ho is the tran s­
cendental subject o f h is to ry .” 271
196
Part I I

B e nja m in w anted to dem onstrate “ w ith every possible em­

phasis” th at Baudelaire’s perception o f m odern tem p ora lity was not
unique, th a t “ the idea o f e ternal recurrence pushes its w ay in to the
w o rld o f B audelaire, B la n q u i, and N ietzsche at a p p ro x im a te ly the
same m o m e n t.” 272 T h u s : “ T h e stars th a t B audelaire banished fro m
his w o rld are precisely those w h ic h in B la n q u i became the scene
o f eternal recurrence” 273 and w h ich , as an “ a lle go ry o f the
cosmos,” 274 “ make a mass a rtic le o u t o f h isto ry its e lf.” 275 These
three figures o f the era o f h ig h ca p ita lism n o t o n ly share a lack o f
illu s io n ; they have in com m on an inadequacy o f p o litic a l response.
In the case o f Nietzsche, n ih ilis m , and the d ic tu m : “ T he re w ill be
n o th in g new ” 276 fo r B la n q u i, putschism and u ltim a te ly cosm ologi­
cal despair277; fo r B a ud e la ire , the “ im p o te n t rage o f someone
fig h tin g against the w in d and ra in .” 278 H a v in g no p o litic a l u n d e r­
sta n d in g beyond th a t w h ic h , as w ith B la n q u i, led to c o n s p ira to ria l
p o litics, B a ud e la ire ’ s u ltim a te p osition is one in w h ic h rage tu rn s
in to resignation:

“ As for me, I shall be quite satisfied to leave

A world where action is never sister o f the dream.” 279

T h e key to B a ud e la ire ’ s p o litic a l p osition is the im age o f “ p e trifie d

u nrest,” ( “ erstarrte Unruhe” ) constant d isq u ie t w h ic h “ know s no de­
v e lo p m e n t” : “ P e trifie d unrest is also the fo rm u la fo r the im age o f
B a ud e la ire ’s ow n life [ . . . ] . ” 280 I n the Baroque era, w hen a lle go r­
ical perception was s im ila rly tied to an u nd ersta nd in g o f p o litic a l
a ction as conspiracy (the c o u rt in trig u e r281), “ the im age o f p e trifie d
u nrest” was p ro vid e d b y “ ‘the desolate confusion o f the place o f
sku lls’ ” 282 B u t sui generis to the experience o f ca p ita lism , the h o llo w ­
ness th a t the B aroque had fo un d in o u te r n atu re now invades the
in n e r w o rld . T hu s: “ B aroque a llegory sees the corpse o n ly fro m the
outside. B audelaire sees i t also fro m the in sid e .” 283 T h is means th a t
he experienced the death o f the soul in the s till-liv in g body, and
read m a te ria l h is to ry as a w o rld already “ s in k in g in to rig o r
m o rtis .” 284 I t means th a t fo r B audelaire, “ S trin d b e rg ’s th o u g h t” is
b in d in g : “ H e ll is n o t som ething th a t lies ahead fo r us, b u t this life
here” 285
197

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

T h e difference helps explain B a u d e la ire ’s reactions in the fo llo w ­

in g in cid e n t. Im pressed by a sixte en th-ce ntu ry w oodcut rep ro ­
duced in H y a c in th e L a n g lo is ’ book on the h is to ry o f the dance o f
death (fig u re 6.9), B audelaire in stru cte d B racquem ond in 1858 to
d ra w a frontispiece fo r the second e d itio n o f Les fleurs du m al, using
this w oo d cu t as a m odel.

[Baudelaire’s] instructions: “ A skeleton that forms a tree w ith the legs and
ribs form ing the trunk, the arms outstretched in a cross sprouting leaves
and buds, and sheltering several rows o f poisonous plants in small pots
spaced apart as in a greenhouse.” 286

B ra cq u e m o n d ’s design (figure 6.10), a lth o u g h q u ite true to the

m o d e l’s m a in image, displeased B audelaire greatly. B e nja m in
w rites:

Bracquemond evidently raised difficulties, and mistook the intention o f

the poet in that he concealed the pelvis o f the skeleton w ith flowers and
didn’ t treat the arms like tree branches. Moreover, according to Baude­
laire, the artist does not know what a skeleton like a tree should look like
and also doesn’t have an eye for how vices are to be represented as
flowers.287

“ I n the end a p o rtra it o f the poet b y B racquem ond was substi­

tu te d ” and the p ro je ct was abandoned.288 I t was taken up again,
how ever, by F elicien Rops in 1866, as the design fo r the frontispiece
o f B a u d e la ire ’s Epaves. B audelaire considered the new version
(figu re 6.11) a success, and accepted it.
“ T o in te rru p t the course o f the w o rld — th a t was the deepest w ill
o f B a u d e la ire ,” 289 and in this sense he w e n t beyond the passive
m elan ch oly o f the Baroque allegoricists. “ T h e allegory o f Baude­
la ire bears— in o pposition to the B aroq ue — the traces o f anger
needed to break in to this w o rld and la y its harm o nio us structures in
ru in s .” 290 B u t i f B audelaire succeeded in th is, and i f in his refusal o f
the C h ris tia n solu tion o f s p iritu a l resu rrectio n he rem ained m ore
fa ith fu l to the new natu re th an the Baroque allegoricists had to the
o ld ,291 he knew no recourse b u t to “ h old onto the ru in s .” 292

The destructive impulse o f Baudelaire is nowhere interested in getting rid

o f that which declines. T ha t comes to expression in allegory, and it is this
which constitutes its regressive tendency. On the other hand, however,
precisely in its destructive fervor, allegory is concerned w ith the banish­
ment o f the illusory appearance that proceeds out of every “ given order,”
198

Part I I

6.9 Sixteenth-century woodcut, chosen by Baudelaire as model for the frontispiece o f Les
Fleurs du mal, 2nd edition.
199

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

6.10 Plan for frontispiece ofLes Fleurs du mal, Bracquemond, 1859-60, rejected by
Baudelaire.
200

Part I I

6.11 Frontispiece o f Baudelaire’s Epaves> design by Felicien Rops, 1866.

201

6 H istorical Nature: Ruin

be it o f art or o f life, as i f from the transfiguring order o f the totality or the

organic, making it appear bearable. And that is the progressive tendency
o f allegory.293

In the Arcades project B e nja m in h im s e lf practiced allegory against

m y th . B u t he was aware o f its “ regressive tendency.” T h e Passagen-
Werk was to avoid not o n ly the “ b e tra ya l o f n a tu re ” invo lved in the
s p iritu a l transcendence o f the Baroque C h ris tia n allegoricists, b u t
also th a t p o litic a l resignation o f B a udelaire and his contem poraries
w h ic h u ltim a te ly ontologizes the emptiness o f the h is to ric a l experi­
ence o f the co m m od ity, the new as the always-the-sam e. I t needed
to dem onstrate th a t fa r m ore violence th an B a ud e la ire ’ s “ a lle g o ri­
cal in te n tio n ” was req uired in o rd er to redeem the m a te ria l w o rld .

The course o f history as it is represented in the concept o f catastrophe has

in fact no more claim on the thinking man than the kaleidoscope in the
hand o f a child which collapses everything ordered into new order with
every turn. The justness o f this image is well founded. The concepts o f the
rulers have always been the m irror thanks to which the image o f an
“ order” was established.— The kaleidoscope must be smashed.294
PartHI
Introduction

Konvolut “ J ” o f the Passagen-Werk, e n title d “ B a u d e la ire ,” is the b u l­

kiest by fa r o f the Konvoluts, a ccounting fo r over 20 percent o f the
p ro je c t’s collected m ate ria l. Begun in the late 1920s,1 it u ltim a te ly
took on a life o f its own. In 1937 B e n ja m in conceived o f a separate
book on B audelaire, w h ic h he planned “ to develop as a m in ia tu re
m od el” o f the Passagen-Werk.2 T h e p ro je ct received the fin a n c ia l
su p p o rt o f the In s titu te fo r Social Research, and B e n ja m in com ­
pleted the m id d le section o f the stu dy in fa ll 1938. T h is section was
the n ow infam ous, th re e -p a rt essay, “ T h e Paris o f the Second
E m p ire in B a ud e la ire ,” w h ich A d o rn o , speaking fo r the In s titu te ,
vehem ently criticize d . I t was the m ontagelike ju x ta p o s itio n o f
images and com m entary (the very touchstone o f B e n ja m in ’s con­
ception) th a t A d o rn o considered so unsuccessful. H e claim ed the
“ astonished presentation o f sim ple facts” lacked th eo re tica l (d ia ­
lectica l) m e d ia tio n .3 Asked to re w rite the essay, B e n ja m in chose to
revise its m id d le section o n ly (“ T h e F la n e u r” ), u n d e r the title , “ O n
Some M o tifs in B a ud e la ire .” T h is ve ry m uch altered, and indeed
m ore “ th e o re tica l” version— the m id d le o f the m id d le o f the
“ book” — was accepted enth usia stically by the In s titu te in 1939.
N o w th a t the Passagen-Werk m a te ria l has been published, its mas­
sive assem bly o f facts makes i t appear in d isp u ta b le th a t the fo rm o f
the firs t h ig h ly criticize d B audelaire essay was indeed m ore o f a
“ m in ia tu re m od el” o f w h a t the Arcades p ro je c t w o u ld have be­
come. A ll the m ore devastating, then, was A d o rn o ’s fu nd am e nta l
206

Part I I I

d isa pp rova l o f the o rig in a lity o f co nstructio n w h ic h B e n ja m in had

labored to develop.
T h e case fo r the m od el-like n atu re o f the firs t Baudelaire essay is
in fact strengthened by the recent discovery o f papers th a t Ben­
ja m in entrusted to George B a ta ille , and th a t now fo rm p a rt o f the
B a ta ille Estate in the archive o f the B ib lio th e q u e N a tio n a le .4
A m o n g these papers is a fo ld e r w h ic h contains a detailed, p re lim in ­
a ry pla n fo r the B audelaire book. In long lists u nd e r headings th a t
were to correspond to themes ( “ A lle g o ry ,” “ E n n u i,” “ the P ro s ti­
tu te ,” “ L ite ra ry M a rk e t,” “ the C o m m o d ity ,” “ E te rn a l R ecur­
rence,” etc.) B e n ja m in m arshaled Passagen-Werk fragm ents b y th e ir
id e n tify in g letters and num bers, ransacking Konvolut J , and n o tin g
m a te ria l fro m other o f the p ro je c t’ s diverse crannies as w ell. These
lists are a rou gh o rd e rin g , intended as an in te rm e d ia te phase in
the structuring o f the Baudelaire “ book.” 5 W hen he w ent through
them again in the sum m er o f 1938, as he was a c tu a lly c o n stru ctin g
the firs t B a udelaire essay, he narro w ed dow n th e ir n u m b e r (ro u g h ­
ly by h a lf) and ordered them in to a th re e -p a rt schema. H e then
w orked fu rth e r on the schema o f the second p a rt, a rra n g in g the
entries in an o rd er th a t m atches q u ite exactly the finished essay,
“ T h e Paris o f the Second E m p ire o f B a ud e la ire ” (w h ile no such
schema exists in the fo ld e r fo r the second B a udelaire essay6). T h is
firs t essay is in fact constructed w ith so little th eo re tica l m o rta r
between the Passagen-Werk fragm ents th a t the essay stands like a
d ry w a ll, and A d o rn o rig h tly id e n tifie d the (to h im , lam entable)
p rin c ip le o f m ontage th a t governed the fo rm o f the w hole.
T h e o rig in a l speculation th a t the papers in B a ta ille ’s a rchive
contained the plans fo r a com pleted Passagen-Werk has been
d is a p p o in te d .7 B u t ju s t how sig n ific a n t the B audelaire p ro je c t had
become in B e n ja m in ’s labors is a question th a t s till causes consider­
able dispute. In th e ir exhaustive re p o rt on the archive papers,8
M ic h a e l Espagne and M ic h a e l W e rn e r make the strong case th a t
B e n ja m in intended the B a udelaire stu dy to su p p la n t the “ fa ile d ” 9
Passagen-Werk altogether. T h e y base th e ir a rg um en t on the fa ct th a t
such a sig n ific a n t p ro p o rtio n o f the Passagen-Werk m a te ria l fo u n d its
w ay in to the B a udelaire notes. Y e t the vast m a jo rity o f this m a te ria l
comes fro m “ J , ” w h ile the o the r th irty -fiv e Konvoluts are rep re ­
sented ( if at a ll) by re la tiv e ly few examples. F u rth e rm o re , h is to ric a l
figures such as F o u rie r, G ra n d v ille , and H aussm ann, w ho fig u re as
207

Introduction

im p o rta n tly as B audelaire in the 1935 and 1939 exposes, are v irtu a l­
ly unrepresented. M oreo ver, Espagne and W e rn e r cannot answer
w hy, i f the Arcades pro je ct had been abandoned, B e nja m in con­
tin ue d between 1937 and 1940 to add m a te ria l to a ll th irty -s ix o f
the Konvoluts, n o t ju s t to “ J , ” o r>indeed, w h a t co m p e llin g intellectual
m otive he w o u ld have had fo r aband on ing the greater p ro je c t,10
re fe rrin g instead to the “ h isto rica l s itu a tio n ” in general, and Ben­
ja m in ’s econom ic p lig h t in p a rtic u la r.11 T h e y lead one to assume
th a t the B aud e la ire essay was uniqu e as a ra id on the Passagen-Werk
entries, whereas in fa ct there was little B e n ja m in w ro te a fter 1927
th a t d id n o t relate d ire c tly to (and even “ steal” fro m ) the Arcades
p roject, sometimes a p p ro p ria tin g the same q u o ta tio n o r idea in
d ifferent (con)texts, fo r very differen t sig n ifyin g purposes. T h e
Passagen-Werk files were the w o rk in g lexicon o f B e n ja m in ’s research
and ideas, o r m ore accurately, his h is to ric a l warehouse o f
d o cu m e ntary parts and su p p o rtin g theoretical arm atures, o ut o f
w h ic h d u rin g the th irtie s he constructed the w ide range o f his
lite ra ry -p h ilo s o p h ic a l w o rks.12
A ll o f th is the papers in the B a ta ille A rc h iv e make clear. T h e y
p ro vid e , however, s im p ly no evidence th a t B e nja m in h im s e lf ever
considered the Passagen-Werk a “ fa ile d ” p roject, o r th a t the Baude­
la ire stu dy had come to replace it. N o r do o the r a vailable docu­
ments suggest it. In ste ad B e n ja m in was e x p lic it concerning the
re la tio n sh ip between the tw o, w ritin g in A u g u s t 1938 (ju s t as he
was fin is h in g the firs t B audelaire essay): “ T h is book is n o t id e n tic a l
to the ‘ Paris Passages.’ Y e t i t harbors n o t o n ly a considerable p o r­
tio n o f the in fo rm a tio n a l m a te ria l collected u n d e r the sign o f the
la tte r, b u t also a n u m b e r o f its m ore p h ilo so p h ica l contents.” 13 H is
le tte r to H o rk h e im e r the fo llo w in g m o n th th a t accom panied the
finished essay is even m ore e x p lic it14:

As you know, the Baudelaire [jic.] was originally planned as a chapter o f

the “ Passages,” specifically, as the next to the last. Thus it was not some­
thing I could write before formulating the work in progress, nor would it
be understandable w ithout this prior formulation. I kept stalling on the
idea that the Baudelaire could be published in the [In stitu te ’s] journal, i f
not as a chapter o f the Passages, then at least as an extensive essay o f
maximum scope. O nly in the course o f this summer did I recognize that a
Baudelaire essay o f more modest size, but one which did not deny its
responsibility to the Arcades project, could come into being only as part o f
a Baudelaire book. Enclosed you are receiving, to speak precisely, three
208
Part I I I

such essays— namely the three component pieces that together are rel­
atively self-contained, and that comprise the second part o f the Baudelaire
book. This book is to lay down decisive philosophical elements o f the
“ Passages” project, hopefully in definitive formulation. If, besides the orig­
inal outline, there was a subject matter that bid the optim al chances for
laying down the conception o f the “ Passages,” then it was Baudelaire. For
this reason, the orientation o f substantive as well as constructive elements
essential to the “ Passages” evolve out o f the subject matter itself.15

I f we take B e n ja m in at his w o rd , n o t o n ly was the Passagen-Werk

s till a going concern; it was his m a jo r concern, subsum ing the
B audelaire book u nd er it, ra th e r th an vice versa.16 In o the r w ords,
in the m id st o f pressure fro m the In s titu te to d e liv e r a “ B audelaire
b ook,” B e nja m in ke pt w o rk in g on the “ Passages” u nd er a new
alias.
G iven th a t the p la nn ed B a udelaire book was firs t conceived as a
chapter o f the larg e r w o rk, w o u ld it n o t be reasonable to assume
th a t a ll o f the “ chapters,” so condensed and a bbreviated in b oth
expose descriptions, w o u ld u ltim a te ly have been extended to the
p o in t w here each could, and indeed should, stand on its ow n?17
B e n ja m in foresaw this p o s s ib ility in at least18 tw o cases: “ I w o u ld
see the developm ent th a t the Baudelaire chapter is in the process o f
undergoing reserved fo r tw o chapters o f the ‘ Passages,’ the ones on
G ra n d v ille and on H a u ssm a n n .” 19
T h e p o s s ib ility th a t, in o rd e r to give h im s e lf space to develop the
h is to ric a l significance o f w h a t was now over a decade o f research,
B e n ja m in w o u ld have dissolved the “ Passages” in to a series o f
w orks, a ll o f w h ic h were w ith in the same theoretical a rm ature, does
n o t in d ica te a “ fa ile d ” Passagen-Werk, b u t, on the c o n tra ry , one th a t
had succeeded o n ly too w ell.

In his le tte r to H o rk h e im e r accom panying the firs t B a ud e la ire

essay, B e n ja m in w ro te th a t this essay was “ self-sufficient” o n ly in
the fo rm a l sense, fo r it “ d id n o t m ake visible the p h ilo s o p h ic a l
fo u n d a tio n o f the entire book, and o ug ht n ot to .” 20 T h is w o u ld occur
o n ly in the book’s co n clu d in g section.21 H e described his p la n fo r
the book’s three parts in the d ia le ctica l schema o f “ thesis,” “ a n ti­
thesis,” and “ synthesis” : “ In this construction, the firs t p a rt presents
209

Introduction

the p ro b le m a tic: Baudelaire as a lle g o ricist.” T h e second p a rt (the

essay he was sending) “ tu rn s its back on the aesthetic theory ques­
tio n o f the firs t p a rt and undertakes a socially c ritic a l in te rp re ta tio n
o f the p oe t,” one th a t points o u t “ the lim its to his achievem ent.”
T h is section “ is the p re co n d itio n fo r the M a rx is t in te rp re ta tio n ,
w h ic h , however, it does n o t by its e lf a ccom plish.” N o t u n til the
th ird section, “ to be called: T h e C o m m o d ity as Poetic O b je c t,”
w o u ld the M a rx is t in te rp re ta tio n come in to its o w n .22 F ro m the
1938 d ocum ent “ C e n tra l P a rk,” in w h ich B e nja m in developed
th eo re tica l m otifs fo r the B audelaire study, we know the specific
question th a t he wished to “ keep fo r the [b o o k’s] conclusion” :

How is it possible that an attitude which at least in appearance is as out o f

keeping w ith its time as that o f the allegoricist, takes pride o f place in [Les
Fleurs de mal,] the poetic work o f the century?23

T h e reader w ill recognize the q u o ta tio n . I t is precisely the question,

B e n ja m in ’s answer to w h ich we have ju s t considered in chapter 6.24
W ere we ju s tifie d in co n fla tin g the argum ents o f the Passagen-Werk
and the B audelaire “ book” at th a t point? B e nja m in gives us every
reason to answer yes— w ith o u t im p ly in g th a t the Passagen project
had been given up. H e w rote to H o rk h e im e r in 1938 o f an “ a u to n ­
omous g ro u p o f m o tifs ” o f the B audelaire book’s th ird p a rt in
w h ic h “ the fu n d a m e n ta l them e o f the old ‘Arcades p ro je c t,’ the
new and alw ays-the-sam e,” w ill firs t “ come in to p la y .” 25 A n d he
co ntin ue d in a le tte r to A d o rn o the fo llo w in g week: “ T h e substance
o f the th ird p a rt is to dem onstrate the conspicuous convergence o f
its basic thoughts w ith [those of] the Arcades p la n .” 26
In lin e w ith th e ir thesis o f a “ fa ile d ” Passagen-Werk, Espagne and
W e rn e r argue th a t B e n ja m in ’s w o rk on the B audelaire “ book,”
subsequently reflected in the substantive changes o f the 1939 ex­
pose (— w h ich also inclu de d the a d d itio n o f a new in tro d u c tio n and
conclusion based on the texts o f B la n q u i,27 as w e ll as “ extensive
changes” in “ F o u rie r” and “ L o u is P h ilip p e ,” 28— ) represented a
fu n d a m e n ta l sh ift in the p hilo so p h ica l conception o f the project,
lea din g to in te rn a l co ntrad iction s so serious th a t they threatened to
u nd erm in e the entire edifice. T h e y refer specifically to the c o n tra ­
d ic tio n between the “ continuous phenom enology o f the co m m o d ity
fo rm ” and the “ d is c o n tin u ity im p lie d by the d ia le ctica l im age.” ?9
T h e cru c ia l p o in t is th a t this am bivalence was n o t new. I t had its
210

Part I I I

source in the tension between the h isto rica l and m etaphysical poles
o f in te rp re ta tio n th a t h aunted the Arcades p ro je ct fro m the s ta rt
(re m in d in g us o f his even e arlie r note fo r the Trauerspiel study:
“ m ethodological re la tio n s h ip between the m etaphysical inve stiga ­
tio n and the h is to ric a l one: a stocking tu rn ed inside o u t” 30). As
p ro b le m a tic as this th eo re tica l fram e m ay have been,31 it d id n ot
suddenly become so in 1938.
T h e “ d ia le ctica l im a ge ” has as m any levels o f logic as the H ege­
lia n concept. I t is a w ay o f seeing th a t crystallizes a n tith e tic a l
elements by p ro v id in g the axes fo r th e ir a lig n m e n t. B e n ja m in ’ s
conception is essentially s ta tic 32 (even as the tru th w h ic h the d ia ­
lectical image illu m in a te s is h is to ric a lly fleeting). H e charts p h i­
losophical ideas v is u a lly w ith in an unreconciled and tra n s ito ry
fie ld o f oppositions th a t can perhaps best be p ic tu re d in term s o f
coordinates o f c o n tra d ic to ry term s, the “ synthesis” o f w h ic h is n o t
a m ovem ent to w a rd reso lu tio n, b u t the p o in t at w h ic h th e ir axes
intersect. In fact, it is precisely as crossing axes th a t the term s
c o n tin u ity /d is c o n tin u ity — the sim u lta n e ity o f w h ic h so troubles
Espagne and W e rn e r— appear in the ve ry early Passagen notes in
connection w ith the d ia le ctica l “ o ptics” o f m o d e rn ity as both
ancient and new: T h e y are to be understood as the “ fu n d a m e n ta l
coordinates” o f the m odern w o rld .33

L e t us take a m om en t to develop this n otio n th a t B e n ja m in th o u g h t

in coordinates. H is u n fo ld in g o f concepts in th e ir “ extrem es” can
be visualized as a n tith e tic a l p olarities o f axes th a t cross each other,
revealing a “ d ia le ctica l im age” at the n u ll p o in t, w ith its c o n tra d ic ­
to ry “ m om ents” as a xia l fields. A g a in st the skepticism o f Espagne
and W e rne r, we w ill go so fa r as to suggest th a t a p a tte rn o f coor­
dinates functions as the in v is ib le structure o f the Passagen-Werk’s
h is to rica l research, e n a b lin g the p ro je ct’s seem ingly d isparate, con­
ceptual elements to cohere. T h e axes o f these coordinates can be
designated w ith the fa m ilia r H egelian polarities: consciousness and
re a lity . I f the te rm in i are to be a n tith e tic a l extremes, we m ig h t
name those on the axis o f re a lity , p e trifie d n a tu re /tra n s ito ry n atu re ,
w h ile in the case o f consciousness, the te rm in i w o u ld be d re a m /
w aking. A t the n u ll p o in t w here the coordinates intersect, we can
211
Introduction

Display D

w a k in g

n atural history: fossil h is toric a l natu re: ruin

(tra c e ) (a lle g o ry )

p etrifie d * •c o m m o d ity --------------------------tra n s ito ry

n a tu re nature

m yth ic history: fetish m y th ic natu re: w is h im ag e

(p h a n ta s m a g o ria ) (s y m b o l)

d re a m

place th a t “ d ia le ctica l im age” w h ich , by 1935, stood at the “ m id ­

p o in t” 34 o f the project: the co m m o d ity. Each fie ld o f the coor­
dinates can then be said to describe one aspect o f the physiognom ic
appearance o f the co m m o d ity, show ing its co n tra d ic to ry “ faces” :
fetish and fossil; w ish image and ru in . In the p o s itio n in g o f the
fields, those under the sign o f transitoriness w o u ld need to be
affirm ed. D is p la y D represents this in visib le , in n e r stru ctu re o f the
Passagen- Werk.
H ere the fo s s il names the co m m o d ity in the discourse o f ur-
h is to ry, as the visible rem ains o f the “ u r-phenom ena.” Even after
his early, m eta ph o ric ur-landscape o f consum er dinosaurs and
m odern ice ages recedes, B e nja m in sustains the physiognom y o f the
fossil in the idea o f the “ trace” (Spur),35 the im p r in t o f objects p a r ti­
c u la rly visib le in the plush o f bourgeois in te rio rs o r the velvet lin in g
o f th e ir casings (— here u r-h is to ry tu rn s in to a detective story, w ith
the h is to ric a l “ trace” as clue). T h e fetish is the keyw ord o f the com ­
m o d ity as m y th ic phantasm agoria, the arrested fo rm o f history. I t
corresponds to the reified fo rm o f new nature, condem ned to the
m odern H e ll o f the new as the always-the-same. B u t this fetishized
p hantasm agoria is also the form in w h ich the hum an, socialist
p o te n tia l o f in d u s tria l nature lies frozen, a w a itin g the collective
p o litic a l action th a t could awaken it. T h e wish image is the tran si-
212

Part I I I

to ry, dream fo rm o f th a t p o te n tia l. In it, archaic m eanings re tu rn in

a n tic ip a tio n o f the “ d ia le c tic ” o f awakening. T h e ruin, created in ­
te n tio n a lly in B a u d e la ire ’s alle go rica l poetry, is the fo rm in w h ic h
the w ish images o f the past ce ntu ry appear, as ru b b le , in the pre­
sent. B u t it refers also to the loosened b u ild in g blocks (bo th seman­
tic and m a te ria l) o u t o f w h ic h a new ord er can be constructed. N ote
th a t the figures o f the co lle ctor, the ra g p icke r,36 and the detective
w an de r th ro u g h the fields o f the fossil and ru in , w h ile the fields o f
action o f the p ro s titu te , the g am bler, and the fla n e u r are those o f
w ish images, and o f the fetish as th e ir pha nta sm ag oric fo rm .
H aussm ann b u ild s the new p hantasm agoria; G ra n d v ille represents
it c ritic a lly . F o u rie r’s fantasies are w ish images, a n tic ip a tio n s o f the
fu tu re expressed as dream sym bols; B a ud e la ire ’s images are ruins,
failed m a te ria l expressed as allegorical objects.

As the reader m ay have guessed, th is im age o f coordinates u n d e r­

lies the presentation o f the Passagen-Werk's h is to ric a l m a te ria l in the
preceding fo u r chapters. As a h e u ristic schema, it was adopted be­
cause it allow ed the dense and m u ltip le elements o f the Arcades
p roject to be treated w ith c o n tin u ity and coherence w ith o u t d oing
violence to the a n tith e tic a l p o la rity o f “ d is c o n tin u ity .” N ow h ere do
these coordinates a c tu a lly appear in the Passagen-Werk. Such a
stru ctu re is v irtu a l, n o t e x p lic it. Y e t the sources te ll us repeatedly
th a t fro m his early years, B e n ja m in was at home w ith coordinates
as a w ay o f th in k in g . Scholem reports th a t he ty p ic a lly spoke o f his
new thoughts as a “ system o f coordinates.” 37 T h e Trauerspiel stu dy
describes the idea o f Trauerspiel as the “ uniqu e crossing o f n atu re
and h is to ry ,” the “ p o in t o f indifference” o f w h ic h was “ tra n s ie n ­
c y” ; and i t speaks g en erally o f “ ideas” as developing o u t o f p o la r
extremes th a t delineate a “ conceptual fie ld ” in w h ic h the elements
can be ordered. B u t the earliest and m ost s trik in g reference to coor­
dinates is in B e n ja m in ’s 1919 d issertation, “ T h e C oncept o f A r t
C ritic is m in G e rm a n R o m a n tic is m ,” w h ich e x p lic itly ju s tifie s
seeing such orderings even i f they were n ot consciously inten de d. I n
response to the c ritic is m th a t the R om antics d id n o t th in k system a­
tic a lly , B e n ja m in w ro te th a t it “ could be proven beyond a ll d o u b t
th a t th e ir th in k in g was determ ined by system atic tendencies and
connections” :
213

Introduction

[. . . ] or, to express it in the most exact and unassailable form, that [their
thinking] lets itself be related to systematic thought processes, that it in
fact allows itself to be brought into a correctly chosen system of coordi­
nates, whether or not the Romantics have fully provided this system
themselves.38

G ran te d, in B e n ja m in ’ s published w orks, we have o nly one exam ­

ple o f an “ idea” w orked o ut e x p lic itly as a system o f coordinates,39
and it is a p erip h e ra l, in s ig n ific a n t one at th a t. I t is found in the
notes to the second B audelaire essay, describing, not the a rm ature
o f the essay in its e ntire ty, b u t the conceptual p o s itio n in g o f a single
m o tif, “ idleness,” as one fie ld w ith in the general idea o f physical
a c tiv ity (displa y E )40:

Display E

b o d ily p e rfo rm a n c e

s p o rt w o rk

p u rp o s e le s s n e s s - -p u r p o s e

id le n e s s g a m e (o f p a tie n c e )

b o d ily re s t

G ran te d, too, th a t coordinates exhaust n eith e r the concept o f “ d i­

a lectical im ages” n o r B e n ja m in ’s visu a l schem ata fo r th in k in g .41
T h e re is no reason to claim fo r the system o f coordinates in d isp lay
D a n y th in g m ore th an the h e u ristic value w h ich firs t p ro m p te d its
co nstructio n , th a t is, th a t i t makes coherent in one perceptual grasp
the w hole span o f the Passagen m a te ria l assembled between 1927
and 1940— and the fact th a t B e nja m in h im s e lf encouraged the dis­
covery o f such “ system atic tendencies” even w hen n ot e x p lic itly
stated by the a u th o r— at least, so it seemed to this a u th o r w hen she
adopted it as a conceptual fram e. I t thus came as a surprise to fin d
(q u ite w o n d ro u sly, ju s t where Espagne and W e rn e r had been
lo o k in g 42) an o b liq u e and yet e x p lic it co n firm a tio n o f w h a t before
had in tu itiv e ly seemed accurate. B e n ja m in ’ s Paris m anuscripts in
the B a ta ille A rc h iv e inclu de a note (d isp la y F) to the B audelaire
“ book” — the “ m in ia tu re m o d e l,” please rem em ber, fo r the
214

Part I I I

Display F

**> * * * r , J-*.- ArA> < wM”*

* fe * o $.
x v v
'J^VT •'* '* /* % /A** m +k XV, Jj|£r. A/

$ t

*V. »UL W & J b x J I* *. tfadC vv, jJ v jL .U P -*}A. ^

*■ r)*5
y y

**V‘ ^
•Jw ■** 4 A M j *h/ . \ ^ ir m ^ i i A 11^ 1
*

si*
, j t * . yWMrf* zuZtfy*, * \> b ^ ^ uvri'lrf
'’» j *'

The schemata of coordinates have, in the optim al case. 11 concepts: A for the termini
o f the axes, four for the fields, two for the axes, one for the point of intersection.
The three parts o f the work have a thesis, antithesis and synthesis to present.
The man who goes the length o f the path o f passion of male sexuality, comes
through his sacred value to be a poet. The poet to whom no social mission can be
imparted, makes the market and the commodity his objects.
Death, o r the corpse, will form the middle of the crossing axes for the schematism of
the first part. In the corresponding position in the third part will stand the commodity as
the social reality which underlies that of the domination o f the principle o f death in this
poetry.
215
Introduction

Arcades p ro je c t— th a t contains the fo llo w in g ve rb al description:

“ T h e schem ata o f coordinates have, in the o p tim a l case, 11 con­
cepts: 4 fo r the te rm in i o f the axes, fo u r fo r the fields, tw o fo r the
axes, one fo r the p o in t o f inte rse ctio n .” 43 A n d m ore: F or “ the sche­
m a tis m ” o f the book’s “ th ird p a rt” (th a t, please recall, was to dem ­
onstrate its “ conspicuous convergence” w ith the thoughts o f the
Arcades p ro je ct), there was to stand at the “ m id d le o f the crossing
axes,” th a t image w h ich since 1934 had stood at the “ m id p o in t” o f
the Arcades project: “ the c o m m o d ity .”

Such conceptual p lo ttin g is not tru ly m ea nin gfu l, however, u n til

we consider the second tem poral level o f the Passagen-Werk: Ben­
ja m in ’s ow n h isto rica l era. T he w hole elaborate stru ctu re o f the
Passagen-Werk m ust be seen w ith in the te m p ora l axis th a t con­
nects the nineteenth century to B e n ja m in ’s “ present,” the d im e n ­
sion w h ich , by tra n sfo rm in g em b le m atic representation in to
p hilo so p h y o f h isto ry and h isto rica l im age in to p o litic a l education,
provides d ia le ctica l images w ith th e ir explosive charge. T o recon­
stru ct this h isto rica l axis is the p o in t o f the next three chapters.
7_______________________
Is This Philosophy?

How this work was written: rung by rung, in whatever way chance offered
a narrow foothold, and always like someone who climbs up dangerous
heights, and cannot allow himself to look about for a moment, lest he
become dizzy (but also to save the full power o f the panorama that opens
up to him for the end).1

In 1935 A d o rn o w ro te B e n ja m in th a t he w o u ld like to see the

Arcades p ro je ct “ not as a h istorico-sociological in v e s tig a tio n ,” b u t
as “ prim aphilosophia in y o u r p a rtic u la r sense” :

I view the Arcades project as not only the center o f your philosophy, but
the decisive standard o f what can be articulated philosophically today; as
chef d’oeuvre, nothing else, and so decisive in every way— including per­
sonally, that is, in terms o f success— that I would view as catastrophic
and absolutely incorrigible any lessening o f the inner promise o f this work,
and any sacrifice o f your own categories thereby.2

N o t o n ly m ust B re ch t’ s influence be a voided.3 T h e o re tica l “ conces­

sions” to the In stitu t fu r Sozialforschung w o u ld be s im ila rly “ a
m is fo rtu n e ,” 4 and A d o rn o w arned B e n ja m in th a t fin a n c ia l su p p o rt
fro m the In s titu te , w h ile acceptable fo r o the r articles, should be
avoided in this case.5
T h e fo llo w in g week G retel K a rp lu s w ro te fro m B e rlin , echoing
A d o rn o ’s concerns:

And now what lies most on my heart: the Arcades project. I recall the
conversation that we had in Denmark last September, and I am very per­
plexed, as I simply do not know which o f your plans you are now
217

7 Is This Philosophy?

im plem enting. I t astonishes me that F ritz [Pollock o f the In s titu te ] is

cham pioning the notes [i.e., the expose to the project that Benjam in
had ju s t agreed w ith Pollock to compose]; are you th in kin g, then, o f a
w ork for the Zeitschrift [the In s titu te ’s jo u rn a l]? I w ould see in this an
enormous danger: the frame is surely n othing bu t n arrow in comparison,
and you could never w rite that for w hich your true friends have been
w a itin g fo r years, the great philosophical w ork [ . . . ] . 6

These letters are revealing, n ot o n ly fo r the reservations both

express concerning the adequacy o f the In s titu te ’s “ c ritic a l th e o ry ”
as an in te lle c tu a l context fo r B e n ja m in ’s w o rk, b u t also fo r the
trem endously h ig h expectations B e n ja m in ’ s friends had fo r the
Arcades p roject. In fact, B e nja m in could n o t afford to do w ith o u t
the In s titu te ’s backing. I f it were to fu nd h im o n ly for a d d itio n a l
articles, w o rk on the Passagen w o u ld be held b ack.7 M oreo ver, Ben­
ja m in believed the expose, w h ile w ritte n at the in v ita tio n o f the
In s titu te , made “ concessions to no side, and i f I know a n y th in g
a bo ut it at a ll, it is th a t no school w ill be in a h u rry to claim i t . ” 8
T h a t the In s titu te m ig h t a tte m p t to p u t in te lle c tu a l constraints on
the p ro je ct he considered less a danger than the p o s s ib ility i t w ou ld
lack fin a n cin g altogether. As to expectations th a t the Arcades study
w o u ld produce a p h iloso ph ical m asterpiece, B e n ja m in ’s ow n eval­
u a tio n was based on the ra th e r less heroic c rite rio n o f its p o litic a l
p osition ing . T h e 1935 expose, w h ile a voidin g “ o rth o d o x M a r x ­
is m ,” took “ a solid p o s itio n ” w ith in “ the M a rx is t discussion” to
w h ic h , as p hiloso ph y, it co n trib u te d :

Because in fact the philosophy o f a w ork is not so much bound to its

term inology as to its position, I believe this is indeed the expose o f the
“ great philosophical w o rk ” about w hich Felizitas [G . K a rp lu s ] speaks,
even i f for me this designation is not the most urgent one. W h a t concerns
me above all, as you know, is the “ U r-h is to ry o f the 19th C e n tu ry.” 9

T h is “ U r-h is to ry o f the 19th C e n tu ry ” was, then, intended as a

p h iloso ph ical co nstructio n . In the frag m en tary notes assembled in
Konvolut N (m a ny o f w h ich w o u ld fin d th e ir way in to the Theses on
H is to r y ) ,10 B e n ja m in described his m ethod, w hich , it m ust be said,
strained the tra d itio n a l conceptions o f both h isto ry and p hiloso ph y
to the b re akin g p o in t. I t broke ra d ic a lly w ith the p hiloso ph ical
canon by searching fo r tru th in the “ garbage heap” 11 o f m odern
218
Part I I I

history, the “ rags, the tra s h ,” 12 the ruins o f co m m o d ity p ro d u c tio n ,

th a t were th o ro u g h ly ta in te d w ith the p h ilo s o p h ic a lly debased
qua litie s o f e m p irica l sp ecificity, sh iftin g m eanings, and, above a ll,
transiency:

A final abandonm ent o f the concept o f “ timeless tru th ” is in o rd e r.13 “ The

tru th w ill not run away from us” [ . . . ]. H e re w ith is expressed the concept
o f tru th from w hich these representations decisively b re a k.14

As a reco nstru ction o f the past, B e n ja m in ’s m ethod ran roughshod

over von R anke’s sacrosanct p rin c ip le o f show ing the m a tte r “ ‘as it
a c tu a lly w as’ ” : Such h is to ry had been “ the strongest n a rc o tic o f
the [n in e te e n th ] c e n tu ry .” 15 B e nja m in had n o t the least concern fo r
the conventions o fe m p a th ic “ ‘a p p re cia tio n .’ ” 16 In ste ad his objec­
tive was to “ rescue” 17 the h isto rica l objects by rip p in g them o u t o f
the developm ental h istorie s— o f law , re lig io n , a rt, e tc.18— in to
w h ich fic tio n a l and fa lsifyin g n arratives they had been inserted
in the process o f th e ir transm ission. U r-h is to ry was th o ro u g h ly
p o litic a l know ledge, n o th in g less than a re v o lu tio n a ry M a rx is t
pedagogy. Y e t as M a rx is m , its theoretical a rm a tu re was e qu ally
u n o rth o d o x .19 I f in the process o f w o rk in g on the Arcades pro je ct
B e nja m in came to refer to h im s e lf as a “ h isto ric a l m a te ria lis t,” he
was w e ll aware th a t he was fillin g this nom enclature w ith ve ry new
m eaning.
C ru c ia l— and also m ost d iffic u lt— w ou ld be the “ c o n s tru c tio n ”
o f the w o rk. H e w ro te to G retel K a rp lu s th a t in the 1935 expose
“ the co nstructive m o m e n t” was s till lacking:

I ’ll leave undecided w hether this is to be sought in the d irection th a t you

two [she and A dorno] suggest. B ut this m uch is certain: T he constructive
m om ent fo r this book means th a t w hich the philosopher’s stone means in
alchemy. There is otherwise only one thing th a t can be said about it for
now: th a t it w ill have to sum up in a new, concise, and very sim ple m anner
the contrast between where this book stands and the tra d itio n o f historical
research up to now. How? T h a t remains to be seen.20

B e nja m in was at least convinced o f one th in g : w h a t was needed was

a visua l, n o t a lin e a r logic: T h e concepts were to be im a g is tic a lly
constructed,21 according to the cognitive p rin cip le s o f m ontage.22
N in e te e n th -ce n tu ry objects were to be m ade visible as the o rig in o f
the present,23 at the same tim e th a t every assum ption o f progress
was to be scrup ulo usly rejected24: “ In o rd er fo r a piece o f the past
219
7 Is T h is P h ilo s o p h y ?

to be touched by present a c tu a lity , there m ust exist no c o n tin u ity

between th e m .” 25 B enja m in noted: ‘ “ C onstruction* presupposes
‘d e s tru c tio n .’ ” 26 H is to ric a l objects are firs t co nstitu te d by being
“ blasted” o u t o f the h isto rica l c o n tin u u m .27 T h e y have a “ m onado-
log ical s tru c tu re ,” in to w h ich “ a ll the forces and interests o f h isto ry
enter on a reduced scale.” 28 “ T ru th [ . . . ] is bound to a te m p ora l
nucleus w h ich is lodged in b oth the kn ow n and the k n o w e r.” 29 In a
te nsio n-fille d constellation w ith the present,30 this “ te m p ora l n u ­
cleus” becomes p o litic a lly charged, polarized d ia le c tic a lly ,” as “ a
force fie ld , in w h ic h the c o n flict between its fore- and a fte r-h isto ry
plays its e lf o u t.” 31
As fo re -histo ry, the objects are prototypes, ur-phenom ena th a t
can be recognized as precursors o f the present, no m a tte r how dis­
ta n t or estranged they now appear. B e nja m in im p lie s th a t i f the
fo re -h isto ry o f an object reveals its p o s s ib ility (in c lu d in g its utop ian
p o te n tia l), its a fte r-h isto ry is th a t w h ich , as an object o f n a tu ra l
h isto ry, it has in fact become. B oth are legible w ith in the “ m onado-
log ical s tru c tu re ” o f the h isto rica l object th a t has been “ blasted
free” o f h is to ry ’s c o n tin u u m .32 In the traces left by the o bject’s
a fte r-h isto ry, the co nd itio ns o f its decay and the m anner o f its
c u ltu ra l transm ission, the u to p ia n images o f past objects can be
read in the present as tru th . I t is the forceful c o n fro n ta tio n o f the
fore- and a fte r-life o f the object th a t makes it “ a c tu a l” in the p o liti­
cal sense— as “ presence o f m in d ” ( Geistesgegenwart) 33— and it is n ot
progress b u t “ a c tu a liz a tio n ” in w h ich u r-h is to ry cu lm ina te s.34
“ T hu s, as a flashing image, in the now o f reco gn ition [ im Jetzt der
Erkennbarkeit], the past is to be held fa st.” 35 B e nja m in was co u n tin g
on the shock o f this reco gn ition to jo l t the dre am ing collective in to a
p o litic a l “ aw a ken ing .” 36 T h e presentation o f the h is to ric a l object
w ith in a charged force fie ld o f past and present* w h ic h produces
p o litic a l e le c tric ity in a “ lig h tn in g flash” 37 o f tru th , is the “ d ialec­
tic a l im age.” U n lik e H eg el’s logic, it is “ dialectics at a s ta n d s till” 38:

W here thought comes to a sta n d still in a constellation saturated w ith ten­

sions, there appears the dialectical image. I t is the caesura in the move­
m ent o f thought. Its positioning, o f course, is in no way a rb itra ry . In a
w ord, it is to be sought at the p o in t where the tension between the dialec­
tical oppositions is the greatest. The dialectical image [ . . . ] is identical to
the historical object; it ju stifie s blasting the la tte r out o f the continuum o f
h isto ry’s course.39
220
Part I I I

B e n ja m in sum m arizes: “ Re: the basic theory o f h is to ric a l m a te r­

ia lis m ” :

1) T he historical object is th a t for w hich the act o f knowledge is carried

out as its “ rescue.” 2) H is to ry decomposes in to images, not in to n a rra ­
tives. 3) W herever a dialectical process is effected, we are dealing w ith a
monad. 4) T he m ateria list representation o f history entails an im m anent
critiq u e o f the concept o f progress. 5) H is to ric a l m aterialism supports its
procedure on the foundation o f experience, common sense, presence o f
m ind, and the dialectic.40

“ C om m on sense” (gesunder Mensckenverstand) was n o t a sim ple, self-

evident m a tte r o f rea din g m eaning o u t o f e m p iric a lly given sur­
faces, specifically because the co gnitive experience p ro vid e d by the
d ia le ctica l im age was one o f h isto rica l tim e as w e ll as (o r by means
of) extension in space. “ Presence o f m in d ” ( Geistesgegenwart) refer­
red to the a c tu a lity o f past objects w ith in a present context th a t
gave them a m eaning they d id not have o rig in a lly . “ T h e d ia le c tic ”
allow ed the su p e rim p o sitio n o f fle etin g images, present and past,
th a t made b o th suddenly come alive in term s o f re v o lu tio n a ry
m eaning. T o describe the experience o f “ re v o lu tio n a ry h is to ric a l
consciousness,” B e n ja m in cites B a u d e la ire ’s account o f te m p o ra l
experience u nd er the influence o f hashish: “ ’A lth o u g h [th e n ig h t]
m ust have seemed lo n g to m e . . . it nonetheless seemed th a t it had
lasted o n ly several seconds or, m ore, th a t it had n o t become p a rt o f
e te rn ity .” 41
As an im m e diate, q ua si-m ystical apprehension, the d ia le c tic a l
im age was in tu itiv e . As a p h ilo so p h ica l “ co n stru c tio n ,” i t was not.
B e n ja m in ’s lab oriou s and detailed stu dy o f past texts, his careful
in v e n to ry o f the fra g m e n ta ry parts he gleaned fro m them , and the
planned use o f these in d e lib e ra te ly constructed “ co nste lla tion s”
were a ll sober, self-reflective procedures, w h ich , he believed, were
necessary in o rd e r to m ake visib le a p ic tu re o f tru th th a t the fictio n s
o f co nve ntio na l h is to ry w ritin g covered over. T h is d eb u n k in g o f
fictio ns was in the s p irit o f the E n lig h te n m e n t:

T he entire ground m ust fo r once be reclaim ed for reason, and cleared o f

the underbrush o f delusion and m yth. T h is is to be accomplished here fo r
the nineteenth century.42

B u t it was e n lig h te n m e n t in an era w hen, u nd er the w e ig h t o f its

ow n pro du cts, society had sunk in to a tw ilig h t zone o f dream and
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7 Is This Philosophy?

m y th . B e n ja m in ’s d escrip tio n o f c ritic a l reason differs m arked ly

fro m th a t w h ich had been a rticu la te d in the E n lig h te n m e n t’ s sun­
n ie r days:

T o reclaim those areas where fo rm e rly only delusion has grown. T o forge
ahead w ith the whetted axe o f reason, looking neither left nor rig h t, so as
not fall to fa ll v ic tim to the h o rro r beckoning from the depths o f the
prim eval forest [ Urwald ] . 43

T he provocative assertion th a t an essay on the Paris arcades has more

philosophy in it than observations on the Being o f beings strikes closer to
the meaning o f B enjam in’s w ork than the search fo r th a t skeleton o f con­
cepts w hich remains identical to itself, and w hich he relegated to the
ju n k ro o m .44

A ll o f B e n ja m in ’ s com m ents cited above in section 2 regarding

the m ethod o f the Passagen-Werk can be found in Konvolut N (“ O n
E p istem ology, T h e o ry o f Progress” ). T h is Konvolut was surely in ­
tended to p ro vid e the substance fo r the epistem ological essay th a t
B e n ja m in planned as “ a separate chapter, either at the end or
the b e g in n in g ” o f the w o rk, w h ich , was to fu n c tio n like the
“ e piste m o log ico -critica l p ro lo g ue ” o f the Trauerspiel study, in the
sense th a t it w o u ld be “ p u t to the test in the m a te ria l” th a t com ­
prised the book as a w hole.45 T h e m ethodological d eliberations in
Konvolut N are intensely v iv id . T h e y are n o t fo r th a t reason easily
com prehended.
H o w was this m ethod to be “ p u t to the test” on the h is to ric a l
m a te ria l th a t B e nja m in had com piled? H o w are we to understand
the “ d ia le ctica l im age” as a fo rm o f p h ilo so p h ica l representation?
W as ^du st” such an image? fashion? the prostitute? expositions?
com m odities? the arcades themselves? Yes, surely46— not, h ow ­
ever, as these referents are e m p iric a lly given, n o r even as they are
c ritic a lly in te rp re te d as e m b le m atic o f co m m o d ity society, b u t as
they are d ia le c tic a lly “ co nstructed ,” as “ h isto ric a l objects,” p o liti­
c a lly charged m onads, “ blasted ” o u t o f h is to ry ’s c o n tin u u m and
m ade “ a c tu a l” in the present. T h is co nstructio n o f h is to ric a l ob­
jects cle a rly invo lved the m e d ia tio n o f the a u th o r’s im a g in a tio n .
T h e co gn itive experience o f h isto ry, no less th a n th a t o f the e m p ir-
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Part I I I

ical w o rld , req uired the active in te rv e n tio n o f the th in k in g subject.

A n d yet B e nja m in insisted, in accordance w ith the m ethod o f lite r ­
a ry montage: “ I have n o th in g to say, o nly to show .” 47 H ere, in
w h a t appear to be p a ra d o xica l extremes in B e n ja m in ’s m ethod, is
the source o f a d ile m m a in in te rp re ta tio n . A re d ia le ctica l images
too subjective in th e ir fo rm u la tio n ? O r, are they n o t subjective
enough?
A fte r the in itia l, p o litic a lly charged reception th a t greeted the
firs t volum es o f B e n ja m in ’s com plete w orks in the e arly 1970s, he
has q u ite ra p id ly gained re sp e cta b ility w ith in u niversities, the in s ti­
tu tio n a l guardians o f the c u ltu ra l heritage, where he has been in ­
serted in to the d evelopm ental histories o f the d isciplines and bent
to fit e xisting course progressions. Recent academ ic discussions o f
B e nja m in have been d om in a te d by aestheticians and lite ra ry and
c u ltu ra l critics, w ith the resu lt th a t, i f today he is considered as a
philosopher at a ll, then in the poetic tra d itio n o f G erm an R o m a n ­
ticism (the subjective ide alism o f w h ich he attacked48) o r as the
precursor o f such recent, postsubjective currents o f th o u g h t as de-
construction and postm odernism (characterized n ot in fre q u e n tly
by an a n th ro p o lo g ica l n ih ilis m w h ich he criticize d vehe m e ntly49).
T h e fa ilu re o f both a p p ro p ria tio n s to do the m a tte r ju s tic e is due to
the fact th a t B e n ja m in , w h ile a “ lite ra ry ” w rite r, was not, in the
tra d itio n a l sense o f the te rm , a lite ra ry th in k e r.50 H e in te rp re te d
lite ra tu re as objective, n o t subjective expression. H e c ritic iz e d the
stress on “ taste” in V artpour Vart and “ the chosen w o rd ” in Jugend-
s til as a reflection o f the new consum erism ,51 and analyzed “ the
p ro ble m o f a lite ra tu re w ith o u t an o bject” in M a lla rm e ’s th eo ry o f
poesie pur as an expression o f the d istan cin g o f the poet fro m the
affairs o f his ow n class, a p ro ble m “ rerecorded” in M a lla rm e ’s
poems in the m otifs o f “ the b la n k, the absence, the silence, the
v o id ,” w h ich , fa r fro m saying n o th in g ,

[ . . . allow ] us to read the fact that the poet no longer takes it upon h im se lf
to represent the goals pursued by the class to w hich he belongs. Estab­
lishing his production on this fundam ental renunciation o f a ll the m anifest
experiences o f his class brings w ith it specific and significant difficulties.
T hey make the poetry esoteric. Baudelaire’s works are not esoteric.52

Such com m entaries on texts are id e n tifia b ly M a rx is t, ju s t as his

com m entaries on re a lity are a d m itte d ly poetic. Y e t to read Ben-
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7 Is This Philosophy?

ja m in as a w rite r o f allegorical “ lite ra tu re ,” o r even as a “ M a rx is t”

lite ra ry c ritic , is a sure w ay to ensnare oneself in theoretical para ­
doxes th a t n o t even d ia lectica l subtleties can resolve. In o rd e r to
p lo t o u t th is p ro ble m (— and it is a serious one in te lle c tu a lly — ) we
w ill consider tw o extremes o f in te rp re tin g B e nja m in as a lite ra ry
th in k e r. T h e y w ill a llo w us to show th a t i f B e n ja m in th re w the
tra d ito n a l language o f W estern m etaphysics in to the ju n k ro o m , it
was to rescue the m etaphysical experience o f the objective w o rld ,
n o t to see p hiloso ph y dissolve in to the p la y o f language itself.
E xe m p la ry o f one in te rp re tiv e extrem e is the c ritiq u e th a t H ans
R ob ert Jauss, professor o f lite ra ry c ritic is m and rom ance p h ilo lo g y,
levies against B enja m in . C o m m e n tin g on the la tte r’s in te rp re ta tio n
o f B a u d e la ire ’s poem, “ Parisian D re a m ,” Jauss argues th a t Ben­
ja m in ’s d escrip tio n o f this poem as a “ ‘fantasy o f the forces o f
p ro d u c tio n h a vin g been shut d o w n ’ ” (when the poem represents
n e ith e r w orkers n o r factories d ire c tly 53) is its e lf an exam ple o f “ the
m ethod o f allegoresis,” w ith o u t w h ich , he adds, “ an in te rp re ta tio n
o f the lite ra ry superstructure fro m the co nd itio ns o f the econom ic
in fra s tru c tu re is seldom to be h ad .” 54 N o w i f we view B e n ja m in ’s
in te rp re ta tio n o f the socioeconom ic o rigin s o f the allegorical in
B aud e la ire as its e lf an allegory, then we w o u ld seem to be onto log i-
ca lly in a vicious circle (the “ re a lity ” o f w h ich the poem [says Ben­
ja m in ] is an allegory, is an alle go rica l reading [says Jauss] o f the
poem ), and e pistem ologically in an in fin ite regress (is the poem
a lle go rica l, o r the inteFpetation, or the in te rp re ta tio n o f this in te r­
p re ta tio n . . .?). N one o f this bothers Jauss, it should be noted,
because in his “ o p in io n ,” a M a rx is t in te rp re ta tio n o f the super­
s tru ctu re , even i f it is u n a vo id a b ly “ a lle g o rica l,” is “ le g itim a te
h e rm e n e u tic a lly ,” so long, th a t is, as “ it recognizes its subjective
heuristics and therefore its p a rtia lity , and consequently no longer
makes the d og m a tic claim o f h aving achieved the true and— now
fin a lly — ‘o bje ctive ’ re a d in g .” 55 ( O f course, ju s t the claim to objec­
tiv ity is w h a t a M a rx is t in te rp re ta tio n cannot abandon.) W atered
dow n by Jauss’ lib e ra l p lu ra lis m , B e n ja m in ’s in te rp re ta tio n o f
B a udelaire becomes ju s t a nother w ay o f d oing lite ra ry c ritic is m ,
one am ong m any herm eneutic strategies, subjective and p a rtia l—
and a ffirm ed fo r these q ualities.
Jauss is aware th a t B e n ja m in h im s e lf believes the allegorical in
B a u d e la ire ’s p oe try has an objective source: the social re a lity o f
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Part I I I

c o m m o d itiy p ro d u c tio n w h ic h finds expression w ith in it. H ow ever,

“ this a tte m p t to ju s tify a m a te ria lis t genesis fo r B a u d e la ire ’s re­
course to a lle go ry” leads to insights th a t do n o t “ measure u p ” to
B e n ja m in ’s insights elsewhere.56 A t least, Jauss reiterates, this is
his “ o p in io n ,” 57 to w h ic h he is e n title d . B u t he violates his ow n
insistence as to the s u b je c tiv ity o f in te rp re ta tio n s w hen he p re ­
sumes as fact, n o t o p in io n , th a t B a ud e la ire ’s p o e try was p a rt o f an
in n e r aesthetic developm ent (based on the re la tio n s h ip between
lite ra ry p ro d u ctio n and its c ritic a l reception) along a h is to ric a l con­
tin u u m th a t moves fro m m im esis to allegoresis, an in te rp re tiv e act
th a t in tu rn claim s “ o b je c tiv ity ” fo r a developm ental h is to ric a l con­
tin u u m w ith in lite ra tu re . In fact this co n tin u u m reveals m ore a bo ut
the transm ission o f lite ra tu re than abo ut B a u d e la ire ’s p o e try .58 T h e
c ritic is m o f Paul de M a n is to the p o in t, and deserves to be cited at
length. De M a n w rites:

F or [Jauss’ student, K a rlh e in z ] Stierle, follow ing Jauss w ho h im s e lf fo l­

lowed [H u g o ] F riedrich, it goes w ith o u t saying that the crisis o f the self
and o f representation in ly ric poetry o f the nineteenth and tw entieth cen­
turies should be interpreted as a gradual process. Baudelaire continues
trends im p lic itly present in D id e ro t; M a lla rm e (as he h im se lf stated) felt
he had to begin where Baudelaire had ended; R im baud takes an even
fu rth e r step in opening up the experim entation o f the surrealists— in
short, the m odernity o f poetry occurs as a continuous historical move­
m ent. T h is reconciliation o f m o dernity w ith history in a common genetic
process is h ig h ly satisfying, because it allows one to be both o rig in and
offspring at the same tim e. T h e son understands the father and takes his
w o rk a step fu rth e r, becoming in tu rn the father [ . . . ]. Such a reconcilia­
tion o f m em ory w ith action is the dream o f all historians. In the field o f
lite ra ry studies, the documented modernism o f Hans R obert Jauss and his
group, who seem to have no qualm s about dating the origins o f m odern­
ism w ith historical accuracy, is a good contem porary example o f this
dream. In th e ir case, it rests on the assumption that the movement o f ly ric
poetry away from representation is a historical process th a t dates back to
Baudelaire [,] as w ell as being the very movement o f m o d e rn ity.59

De M a n , o f course, is im p ly in g th a t Jauss’ h isto ric a l c o n tin u u m is

its e lf allegoresis, one th a t expresses the desire fo r a father-to-son
in h e rita n ce .60 Iro n ic a lly , in the context o f Jauss’ continuous h is to r­
ica l m ovem ent, B e n ja m in ’s “ a lle g o rica l” m ethod is su dd en ly no
longer ju s t a nother su bjective ly relative m ode o f in te rp re ta tio n , b u t
rath e r, th a t m ove m e nt’s c u lm in a tio n !
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7 Is T his Philosophy?

If, fro m B audelaire to B e nja m in , a lle g o ry’s line o f descent is pre­

sumed to be d ire ct, then the h isto ry o f m odern lite ra tu re becomes
the saga o f a lle g o ry’s triu m p h over m im e tic representation. De
M a n notes as a consequence: “ the assumed correspondence be­
tween m eaning and object is p u t in to question. F rom this p o in t on,
the very presence o f any o u tw a rd object can become superfluous” ;
it leads Jauss to characterize a lle go rica l style “ [ . . . ] as ‘beaute
in u tile ,’ the absence o f any reference to an e xte rio r re a lity o f w h ich
i t w o u ld be the sign. T h e ‘disappearance o f the o b je ct’ has become
the m a in them e.” 61 A ssum ing de M a n ’s d escrip tio n o f Jauss’
conceptual fram e is correct, “ from this p o in t o n ,” discussions o f
B enjam in’s th in kin g w ith in it are distortions. For Benjam in was con­
cerned w ith the rescue o f h isto rica l objects, nat_their disappearance.
O ne begins to question w he th er the lite ra ry concept o f “ a lle go ry”
is adequate fo r describ ing w h a t d ia le ctica l images are a ll about.
T h e re la tio n o f B e n ja m in to m odernism and a llegory is also dis­
cussed b y the lite ra ry th eo rist Peter B u rge r, b u t it is handled quite
d iffe re n tly . A student o f S urrealism , B u rge r sees the avant-garde
m ovem ent as representing a crisis w ith in a rt and a ra d ic a l ru p tu re
fro m e a rlie r bourgeois aesthetics, and B e nja m in stands on the con­
te m p o ra ry side o f this great d ivid e. Eschew ing developm ental his­
to ry , B u rg e r draw s on B e n ja m in ’s ow n u nd ersta nd in g o f lite ra ry
tra d itio n s as ^ c o n tin u o u s , a convergence o f the long-past w ith the
m ost m odern, so th a t insights in to the n atu re o f a llegory th a t have
not been achieved u n til the m odem era can be fru itfu l when applied
re tro a ctive ly, lea pin g over centuries o f lite ra ry “ d evelopm ent” th a t
intervene. H ence, “ [ . . . ] i t was B e n ja m in ’s experience in dealing
w ith w orks o f the avant-garde th a t made possible b oth the develop­
m ent o f the category [o f a lle go ry] and its a p p lic a tio n to the B aro­
que, n o t the o the r w ay a ro u n d .” 62 T h e m ontage-like co nstructio n
th a t B e n ja m in found sig n ifica n t in a llegory as an expressive fo rm
reflected the co nte m p o ra ry experience o f m odern a rt. B u rge r cites
the Trauerspiel stu d y,63 and comm ents:

The allegorist pulls one element out o f the to ta lity o f the life context, iso­
la tin g it, dep rivin g it o f its function. A llegory is therefore essentially frag­
m ent [ . . . ] . T he allegorist jo in s the isolated fragments o f reality and
thereby creates meaning. T h is is posited meaning; it does not derive from
the o rig in a l context o f the fragm ents.64
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Part I I I

B u rge r m aintain s th a t, fa r fro m leaving the w o rld o f objective m a t­

ter beh in d, the a lle go rica l fo rm o f avant-guarde m ontage brings
re a lity in to the a rtw o rk , d estroyin g b oth a rt’s separate status and
its appearance o f to ta lity . T h is atta ck on a rt “ as an in s titu tio n ,” 65
in fa ct makes the h isto rica l fic tio n o f c u ltu re ’s self-contained de­
ve lo pm e nt {pace Jauss) im possible to sustain: “ T h e in s e rtio n o f
re a lity fragm ents in to the w o rk o f a rt fu n d a m e n ta lly transform s
th a t w ork. [ . . . T h e p a rts] are no longer signs p o in tin g to re a lity ,
they are rea lity.” 66 For Burger, the crucial significance o f this move­
m en t is p o litic a l: “ a new type o f engaged a rt becomes possible.” 67
O f course, a rt as a fo rm o f p o litic a l o r m oral in s tru c tio n is h a rd ly
new, and allegory has lo n g been used as the m ed iu m o f its expres­
sion. B u t prebourgeois art, tied as it was to religion and ritu a l, made
no claim to be “ a utonom ous” from the “ praxis o f life ,” so th a t the
a lle go rica l representation o f “ re a lity fragm ents” d id n o t have the
same effect as an institutional challenge. I t is sp ecifically w ith in the
bourgeois era th a t such representation functions in a re v o lu tio n a ry
w ay, because its very fo rm involves the d ire ct in te rv e n tio n o f th a t
re a lity fro m w h ich a rt had th o u g h t its e lf insulated. A r t is d ra w n
in to p o litics, and this is tru e no m a tte r w h a t the a rtis t’s conscious
p o litic a l in te n t. F o r it is n o t the content o f the w o rk , b u t its effect on
“ the in s titu tio n w ith in w h ic h the w o rk fu n ctio n s” 68 th a t determ ines
the p o litic a l effects o f a vant-garde a rt. F u rth e rm o re , the a van t-
garde’s sh atterin g o f the b o u n d a ry between representation and
re a lity means th a t the p o litic a l im p a c t o f the m odern a rtw o rk can
rem ain und og m a tic, ind ep en d en t o f an overarchin g p o litic a l posi­
tio n . I t allows fo r a reception o f e m p iric a l testing by the audience:

In the avant-gardiste [he.] w ork, the in d iv id u a l sign does not refer p ri­
m a rily to the w ork as a w hole b u t to reality. T he recipient is free to re­
spond to the in d iv id u a l sign as an im p o rta n t statement concerning the
praxis o f life, or as p o litic a l in stru ctio n . T h is has momentous conse­
quences fo r the place o f engagement w ith in the work. W here the w o rk is
no longer conceived as organic to ta lity , the in d iv id u a l p o litic a l m o tif is no
longer subordinate to the w ork as a whole b u t can be effective in
isolation.69

Y e t B u rg e r recognizes th a t despite the re vo lu tio n a ry fo rm o f the

avant-garde, it has proved inadequate as p o litic a l praxis. T h e
avant-garde m ovem ent has challenged, b u t failed to destroy the
established in s titu tio n 70; ra th e r, it has been co-opted by it. B re cht,
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7 Is T his Philosophy?

w hom B u rg e r considers “ the m ost im p o rta n t m a te ria lis t w rite r o f

o u r tim e ,” was m ore re a listic (tha n the S urrealists, fo r exam ple),
because he used the avant-garde p rin c ip le o f m ontage fo r the m ore
lim ite d purpose o f “ re fu n c tio n in g ” cu ltu re as an in s titu tio n .71 I t is
this in s titu tio n , B u rge r m aintain s, th a t “ determ ines the measure o f
p o litic a l effect avant-garde w orks can have, and th a t. [ . . . ] in
bourgeois society continues to [define a rt a s . . . ] a realm th a t is
d is tin c t fro m the praxis o f life .” 72 B u rge r concludes th a t the c o n tra ­
d ic tio n between the avant-garde’s b rin g in g re a lity in to a rt, and the
bourgeois in s titu tio n ’ s keeping a rt separate fro m re a lity cannot be
resolved w ith in bourgeois society, and this leads h im to a position
o f c u ltu ra l pessim ism s im ila r to th a t o f A d o rn o .
W h e th e r B e n ja m in ’s recourse to the constructive p rin c ip le o f
m ontage puts h im in the com pany o f the aesthetic avant-garde de­
pends on w he th er his w o rk 73 can be categorized as “ aesthetics” at
a ll. B u t w h a t B u rg e r’s discussion allow s us to p o in t o u t is th a t,
fu n d a m e n ta l to the avant-garde, and e vident in m ontage as its fo r­
m al p rin c ip le , is an o scilla tio n between the in tru s io n o f objective
“ re a lity ” in to the a rtw o rk , and the subjective c o n tro l over the
m eanings o f these real objects th a t this technique allows. T h e fact
th a t in m ontage, as in allegory generally, “ the parts have m ore
a u to n o m y as signs,” 74 can have tw o a n tith e tic a l results, and this
becomes the source o f an epistem ological in s ta b ility . O n the one
hand, i t allow s the lite ra ry pro du cer to m a n ip u la te meanings, w ith
the resu lt th a t a r t’s “ engagem ent” becomes in d is tin g u is h a b le from
p o litic a l propaganda (a charge th a t can be levied against M a rx is ts
in general and B re cht in p a rtic u la r). O n the o th e r hand, i t m ay
lead the a rtis t to view the haphazard ju x ta p o s itio n o f “ fo u n d ” ob­
jects (the S u rre alists’ “ objets trouves” ) as m a g ica lly endowed w ith
“ m eaning ” on th e ir own, as a re su lt o f w h a t B u rg e r calls an
“ ideological [ . . . ] in te rp re ta tio n o f the category o f chance” th a t
is “ ta n ta m o u n t to resignation on the p a rt o f the bourgeois
in d iv id u a l.” 75 In the firs t case, epistem ology appears indeed to be
confronted, due to the a rb itra rin ess o f the referent, w ith “ the dis­
appearance o f the o b je ct” ; in the second, “ the disappearance o f the
subject” seems to be the issue. I f b o th are gone, one is left o n ly w ith
language and its te xtu al traces— in fact the epistem ological ground
o f th a t co n te m p o ra ry p osition held by certain s tru c tu ra lis ts , decon­
s tru ctio n ists, and postm odernists w ho have claim ed B e n ja m in as
th e ir precursor. Is the cla im ju stifie d ?
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Pan I I I

I t was A d o rn o w ho firs t p o in te d o u t these tendencies in B e n ja m in ’s

epistem ology, b u t they evoked fro m h im c ritic is m ra th e r th an
praise. H e was concerned w hen he discovered in B e n ja m in ’s w o rk
any sacrifice o f objective refle ction fo r the sake o f p o litic a l co rre ct­
ness, any a tte m p t to a ffirm the w o rk in g class th a t tran sfo rm ed
th eo ry in to p ropaganda— evidence, he suspected, o f the deleterious
influence o f B re c h t.76 A n d he was ju s t as alarm ed by the opposite
tendency, the S u rre a list-in sp ire d , “ wide-eyed presentation o f mere
facts” th a t had caused the firs t B audelaire essay to settle “ on the
crossroads between m agic and p o s itiv is m ,” as A d o rn o w ro te to
B e nja m in , w ith the w a rn in g : “ T h is spot is b ew itche d.” 77
B u t B e n ja m in w o u ld have kn o w n fu ll w ell w here he stood. W ith
the d ia le ctica l image, he had consciously placed h im s e lf in close
p ro x im ity n o t o n ly to the Surrealists, b u t to the B aroque em blem -
ists as w ell. T h e Passagen-Werk's p ic to ria l representations o f ideas
are u n d e n ia b ly m odeled after those em blem books o f the seven­
teenth century, w h ich had w idespread appeal as perhaps the firs t
genre o f mass p u b lic a tio n . T h e g am ble r and the fla n e u r in the
Arcades p ro je ct personify the e m p ty tim e o f m o d e rn ity ; the w hore
is an im age o f the co m m o d ity fo rm ; decorative m irro rs and
bourgeois in te rio rs are em b le m atic o f bourgeois su bjectivism ; d ust
and w ax figures are signs o f h is to ry ’s motionlessness; m echanical
dolls are em b le m atic o f w orke rs’ existence u nd er in d u s tria lis m ; the
store cashier is perceived “ as liv in g image, as alle go ry o f the
cashbox.” 78
N o w B e nja m in was surely aware th a t his e a rlie r c ritic is m o f the
B aroque em blem ists had a d ire ct bearing on his ow n w o rk. T h e
la s tin g im p o rta n ce o f the Trauerspiel study was th a t it p ro vid e d h im
w ith a th o ro u g h ly analyzed reference p o in t fo r c h a rtin g his la te r
p hiloso ph ical course. T h e Passagen-Werk is indebted to B aroque
allegory, no less fo r its differences th an its affinities.
W e have already discussed the m ain lines o f B e n ja m in ’ s a rg u ­
m e n t in the Trauerspiel s tu d y ,79 w h ich we m ay recall, is a p h ilo ­
sophical, n ot a lite ra ry analysis. As a lite ra ry device, alle go ry has
been used since a ncient tim es to convey an a u th o r’s ow n m eanings
o r in te n tio n s in an in d ire c t m anner. B u t w ith in p hiloso ph y, a lle ­
gory has another status as the mode in w hich not the subject, b u t the
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7 Is This Philosophy?

o bjective w o rld expresses m eaning. T h e G erm an Baroque d ra m a t­

ists understood each o f n a tu re ’s elements as fu ll o f sign ificatio n,
th a t hum ans o n ly needed to in te rp re t in ord er to uncover tru th . B u t
the fact th a t each element could be translated in a m u ltip lic ity o f
p a ra d o xica l ways so th a t u ltim a te ly any object could stand fo r a ny­
th in g else, im p lie d referential arb itra rin ess, w h ich seemed to negate
the ve ry claim o f a “ m e a n in g fu l” nature. As we have seen, Ben­
ja m in praised the Baroque d ra m a tists fo r recognizing th a t this
parad ox dem anded a “ th eo log ica l” (thus p hiloso ph ical) solution,
n o t an aesthetic one. B u t he criticize d the particular theological
fram e w hich they employed, because in the dialectical leap from the
h ill o f skulls to the resurrection o f the s p irit, they “ treacherously”
(treulos) abandoned to the d evil the very so rro w -fille d nature,
the ve ry p hysical suffering th a t had been th e ir o rig in a l concern.80
T h e B aroque concept o f C h ris tia n red em ptio n stood opposed to
b oth n atu re and h istory, as an event th a t belonged, not to this
w o rld , b u t to the p u re ly s p iritu a l realm o f subjective inwardness.
W as a no the r resolution possible? T h e Trauerspiel book does not
te ll us e x p lic itly , b u t B e nja m in knew th a t there was.
“ I continue to fin d it very strange,” w ro te Scholem in his
rem iniscences, “ th a t around 1930 B e nja m in to ld at least tw o men
(M a x R ychn er and T h e o d o r A d o rn o ) th a t o n ly someone fa m ilia r
w ith the K a b b a la h could understand the in tro d u c tio n to his book
on tra g ic d ra m a [ . . . ] . ” 81 T h is was the m ore rem arkable, he con­
tin u e d , as B e n ja m in never discussed the connection w ith h im , w ho
alone w o u ld have understood it. B u t in d ed ica ting a copy o f the
book fo r Scholem, B e nja m in w rote: “ ‘T o G e rh ard Scholem,
donated to the U ltim a T h u le o f his K a b b a lis t lib r a r y ’— as i f this
w o rk indeed somehow belonged in a k a b b a lis tic lib r a r y .” 82
Scholem asks:

[ . . . W ]as he indu lg in g in a game o f hide-and-seek w ith me? D id he suc­

cum b to the tem ptation to indulge in some showing off, o r did he w ant to
shroud the reproach o f incom prehensibility, w hich few pages o f his oeuvre
w ould suggest more than this in tro d u ctio n , by referring to something even
more incom prehensible (w hich is how the K abb a la h m ust have seemed to
them [R ychner and A dorno])? I do not know .83

I t was e vid en t to Scholem th a t B e n ja m in ’s theory o f language in

the Trauerspiel in tro d u c tio n was indebted to ideas from K a b b a lis t
th e o ry .84 I t argues th a t not Plato, b u t A d a m was “ the fa th er o f
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Part I I I

p h ilo so p h y.” 85 B e n ja m in w rite s th a t the language o f A d a m as the

name g ive r o f G o d ’ s creations, “ is so fa r rem oved fro m p la y o r
a rb itra rin ess th a t, q u ite the co n tra ry, it confirm s the p arad isia cal
co n d itio n as such [ . . . ] . ” 86 T h is discourse is the m odel fo r w h ic h
p hiloso ph y m ust strive: “ p h ilo so p h ica l c o n te m p la tio n ” reinstates
the “ o rig in a l perception o f the w o rd s.” 87
R em em ber B e n ja m in ’s statem ent th a t the theory o f the Trauer-
spiel in tro d u c tio n was to be “ p u t to the test” in the subsequent d is­
cussion o f Baroque a lle g o ry.88 T h e fact th a t Scholem h im s e lf never
com m ented on this “ test” is u n fo rtu n a te , because fo r h im the eval­
u ative standard la y close at hand. I t was Scholem w ho had shared
his y o u th fu l enthusiasm fo r K a b b a lis t th o u g h t w ith B e n ja m in ,
b eg in nin g in 1917.89 H is scholarship was then ju s t b e g in n in g to
u ne arth the so cially ra d ica l ideas o f th is tra d itio n o f Je w ish m y s ti­
cism w h ich , because i t challenged b oth o rth o d o x y and ra tio n a l
refo rm ism ,90 had fa lle n in to disrepute in the course o f the n in e ­
teenth century, and was dism issed by Jew ish even m ore th a n by
C h ris tia n scholars.
T h e K a b b a la h and the M essianic Idea to w h ic h it gave expres­
sion w o u ld become Scholem ’s life lo n g study. As a scholar, he w o u ld
re m a in ce n tra lly concerned w ith rescuing this tra d itio n w ith in the
specifically Jew ish in te lle c tu a l heritage. B u t as a philoso ph er, Ben­
ja m in saw its significance elsewhere. K a b b a lis t th o u g h t (w h ic h had
experienced a re b irth precisely in the Baroque era) p ro v id e d an
a lte rn a tive to the p h ilo so p h ica l antinom ies o f n o t o n ly B aroque
C h ris tia n theology, b u t also subjective idealism , its secular,
E n lig h te n m e n t fo rm . S p ecifica lly, K a b b a lis m avoided the s p lit
between s p irit and m a tte r w h ich had resulted in the Baroque d ra ­
m a tists’ “ treacherous” a ba ndonm ent o f nature, and it rejected
the n o tio n th a t re d e m p tio n was an a n tim a te ria l, o th e rw o rld ly
concern. Scholem has w ritte n :

A to ta lly different concept o f redem ption determines the a ttitu d e to Mes-

sianism in Judaism and C h ris tia n ity [ . . . ] . Judaism , in a ll its form s and
m anifestations, has always m aintained a concept o f redem ption as an
event w hich takes place p u b lic ly , on the stage o f history and w ith in the
com m unity [ . . . ]. In contrast, C h ris tia n ity conceives o f redem ption as an
event in the s p iritu a l and unseen realm , an event w hich is reflected in the
soul, in the private w o rld o f each in d iv id u a l, and w hich effects an inner
transform ation w hich need n o t correspond to anything outside.91
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7 Is This Philosophy?

I t is no secret th a t the Jew ish M essianic conception, w hich already

has the a ttrib u te s o f being h isto rica l, m a te ria lis t, and collective,
translates re a d ily in to p o litic a l ra d ica lism in general and M a rx is m
in p a rtic u la r. T h e redem ptive task o f the p ro le ta ria t was a rtic u ­
lated in M essianic term s by close contem poraries o f B enjam in,
such as G eorg Lukacs and E rn st B loch, and B e nja m in also u n d e r­
stood it in th is w a y.92 Bloch had argued fo rce fu lly th a t C h ris tia n ity
its e lf had a tra d itio n o f ch ilia stic M essianism a n tic ip a to ry o f
M a r x ’ s co m m u n ist goals, em bodied m ost p a rtic u la rly in the
teachings o f T hom as M u n z e r (called by M a r tin L u th e r the
“ a rc h d e v il,” b u t called by B loch the “ theologian o f the re v o lu tio n ”
in his 1921 book on M u n ze r, w ith w h ich B e nja m in was fa m ilia r).93
U n iq u e a bo ut the K a b b a la h was less its M essianism than its epis­
tem ology. I t was a m ystical m ode o f co g n itio n th a t revealed pre­
vio u sly concealed tru th s w ith in n ature, w h ich were m eaningful
o n ly in the context o f a M essianic Age (in secular, M a rx is t term s, a
socia lly ju s t, classless society). K a b b a lis ts read both re a lity and the
texts,94 n o t to discover an overarchin g h isto rica l pla n (vid. Luka cs’
H e g e lia n -M a rx is t teleology), b u t to in te rp re t th e ir m u ltip le , frag ­
m e n ta ry parts as signs o f the M essianic p o te n tia l o f the present.
T h e tr u th thus revealed was expressed in the K a b b a lis t w ritin g s
in v e n tiv e ly , in d ire c tly , in riddles, p ro v id in g an a n tia u th o rita ria n
fo rm o f pedagogy. K a b b a lis t co g n itio n replaced the dogm atism o f
in s titu tio n a liz e d re lig io n w ith “ a novel and liv in g experience and
in tu itio n ” o f the doctrines it contained.95
In th e ir in te rp re ta tio n o f the m a te ria l w o rld the K a b b a lis ts d id
n o t deny its fa lle n state, and the consequent “ abysm al m u ltip lic ity
o f th in g s ” w hen com pared to the u n ity o f D iv in e R e a lity .96 H ere
they agreed w ith the Baroque allegoricists. B u t th e ir texts describe
“ w ith an in fin ite c o m p le x ity ” 97 the ten “ S e firo th ,” the spheres and
stages o f G o d ’s a ttrib u te s as these appear w ith in nature despite
th a t broken u n ity .98 W here, faced w ith a traryiJtory and am biguous
re a lity , the C h ris tia n allegoricists give up oh m a te ria l nature, the
K a b b a lis ts o n ly begin.

M y th in k in g relates to theology as the b lo tte r to ink. I t is to ta lly saturated

w ith it. B u t i f it were up to the b lotter, n o thing th a t is w ritte n would
rem ain.99
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Part I I I

T h e K a b b a la h , a theology o f m ystica l m etaphysics (th a t has had, it

m ay be noted, C h ris tia n as w e ll as Jew ish adherents100) differs fro m
the entire tra d itio n o f id e a list p hiloso ph y, w he th er in theological o r
secular form , in term s o f the s tru ctu re o f co gnitive experience.
M oreo ver, it does so in ways co m p atib le w ith the p h ilo so p h ic goal
described in the Trauerspiel b o o k’s in tro d u c tio n , “ to tra n sfo rm his­
to ric a l, m a te ria l co n te n t” in to “ tru th co n te n t.” 101 B u t B e n ja m in ’s
analysis o f the tra g ic dram as is n o t its e lf “ K a b b a lis t.” R athe r, in
th is early study, the K a b b a la h is the hid de n, theological a lte rn a tiv e
th a t shapes B e n ja m in ’s c ritiq u e o f the Baroque C h ris tia n a lle g o ri-
cists, w h ile the critiq u e , at least fo r the in itia te , functions as the
a lte rn a tiv e ’s defense. I t is firs t in the Passagen-Werk th a t the p a ra ­
d ig m a tic status fo r B e n ja m in o f the K a b b a la h is b ro u g h t to ex­
pression, because it is firs t in this p ro je ct th a t he em ploys ce rta in o f
its fu n d a m e n ta l premises as the m ode o f his p hiloso ph ical exegesis.
T h is is true n o t in spite of, b u t because o f the p ro je c t’s M a rx is m .
T o connect the p h ilo so p h y u n d e rly in g the Passagen-Werk w ith
theology in general and the K a b b a la h in p a rtic u la r is to in v ite con­
troversy. Sectarian battles m a rk in g the reception o f B e n ja m in have
p olarized the M a rx is t and theo log ica l sides o f his th in k in g , c la im ­
in g them to be in c o m p a tib le antitheses.102 In these battles, Scholem
has been one o f the m ost p a rtisa n fighters, defending the “ theolog­
ic a l” in B e n ja m in against a ll attacks. H ow ever, in his d e te rm in a ­
tio n to secure B e n ja m in ’ s p o sitio n w ith in the p a rtic u la ris tic , J u d a ic
in te lle c tu a l tra d itio n , Scholem underestim ates the deepest sense in
w h ic h theology permeates B e n ja m in ’s th o u g h t, th a t is, precisely in
his theology-free, m a n ife stly “ M a r x is t” w ritin g s . M e a n w h ile , M a r ­
xists, a ltho ug h r ig h tly c la im in g B e n ja m in as th e ir ow n, have gener­
a lly failed to recognize the e n o rm ity o f the challenge th a t this
a p p ro p ria tio n poses to th e ir ow n theoretical presuppositions.
T h e ve ry charged te rm “ th e o lo g ica l” is perhaps less m isle a d in g
i f i t is understood as h a vin g a precise p h iloso ph ical fu n c tio n w ith in
B e n ja m in ’s theory. Im p o rta n t elements o f the K a b b a lis t p a ra d ig m
p ro vid e d B e n ja m in w ith a m etaphysical base fo r re v o lu tio n a ry
pedagogy v ita l to M a rx ia n p o litics, b u t i t is expressed in the fu lly
secular, h is to ric a lly specific discourse o f w om en’s fashions and
street traffic, in w h ich every trace o f positive theology has been
extinguished. (T h u s Scholem was u n w ittin g ly closer to B e n ja m in ’s
u nd e rsta n d in g o f the “ th e o lo g ica l” w hen in 1920 he p la y fu lly sug-
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7 Is This Philosophy?

gested fo r the catalogue o f th e ir jo in tly founded, fic tio n a l “ U n i­

v e rsity o f M u r i, ” a course, the title o f w h ich was a takeoff on a w ork
o f K a b b a lis t scholarship: “ C osm ic C loa k and H eavenly C a n o p y”
( Weltmantel und H im m elszelt). Scholem ’s “ course” was called:
“ L a d ie s’ Coats and Beach Cabanas [Damenmantel und Badezelt] in
R e lig io -H is to ric a l Illu m in a tio n .” 103) Because its m a te ria l is so
th o ro u g h ly profane, one can indeed describe the Passagen-Werk
w ith o u t m e n tio n in g theology o r the K a b b a la h . Y e t the w hole
p ro je ct is o n ly a rb itra ry and aesthetic, ca rry in g no philosophical con­
v ic tio n , i f the in v is ib le theological a rm a tu re is ignored.
Basic features o f Scholem ’s research in the K a b b a la h 104 fin d an
und en ia b le echo in w h a t m ig h t appear to be the m ost id io syn cra tic
aspects in B e n ja m in ’s theory o f d ia le ctica l images. Scholem tells us
th a t the w o rd K a b b a la h means “ th a t w h ich is received th ro ug h
tra d itio n ” ; yet its re la tio n sh ip to tra d itio n is in h e re n tly p arad oxic­
al. As is tru e o f m ost theology, it is firs t and forem ost a herm eneutic
m ethod o f rea din g the sacred texts. B u t as m ysticism , it reads them
fo r h id de n m eanings th a t could n ot have been kn ow n at the tim e o f
th e ir w ritin g , reje ctin g the h isto ric is t approach o f in te rp re tin g texts
in term s o f a u th o ria l in te n t. U nconcerned w ith re c a p tu rin g o rig in a l
m eanings o r w ith e xtrin sic concerns o f h is to ric a l accuracy, these
m ystics took d e lig h t in in ve n tio n , often in te rp re tin g passages in a
m an ne r as rem ote as possible fro m th a t w h ich R a b b in ic a l philoso­
p h y had come to accept as correct. T h e ir concern fo r tra d itio n is in
the interest o f its tra n sfo rm a tio n ra th e r th an preservation. T h e y
in te rp re t the texts in o rd er to illu m in a te th e ir ow n era, in o rd er to
discover w ith in it clues o f the com ing M essianic Age. Scholem
speaks o f the “ fate o f sacred w ritin g s ” to become “ divorced from
the in te n tio n s o f th e ir a uth ors” as “ w h a t m ay be called th e ir after­
life, w h ich , discovered by la te r generations, fre q u e n tly becomes o f
greater im p o rta n ce than th e ir o rig in a l m eaning [ . . . ] . ” 105 B u t fo r
ra d ic a l in te rp re ta tio n , this herm eneutic d iffic u lty becomes a v irtu e .
N ote th a t there is no “ disappearance o f the o b je ct” : W ith o u t
present-day m a te ria l referents, the ancient texts are ind ecip he r­
able. H ence the paradox: one cannot in te rp re t the tru th o f present
re a lity w ith o u t past texts, b u t this re a lity transform s ra d ic a lly the
w ay these texts are read. T h e result is th a t “ o ld co m binations w ill
be in te rp re te d in an e n tire ly new w a y ,” 106 as tra d itio n a l sym bols
dem onstrate “ th e ir explosive pow er in sh a tte rin g tra d itio n .” 107 In
short, the K a b b a la h reveres the past in o rd er to break fro m it.
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Part I I I

C le a rly, as Scholem p oints o u t, a th in line separated K a b b a lis m

fro m heresy, as reve la tio n m ig h t (and d id ) disclose tru th s in v io la ­
tio n o f religious la w .108 T h is is p a rtic u la rly tru e o f S a bbatianism ,
the M essianic m ovem ent o f believers in Sabbatai Z evi, w h ic h
spread ra p id ly in 1665, and w h ich persisted in the face o f Z e v i’s
a n tin o m ia l act o f apostasy, his scandalous conversion to Is la m in
1666. Sabbatians argued th a t the laws o f the T o ra h were n o t v a lid
in the M essianic E ra w h ic h had begun; indeed, they affirm ed the
“ holiness o f sin .” 109 B y ch allen gin g the abso lu tist claim s o f re li­
gious dogm a, th e ir very fa na ticism encouraged se cularization, and
tended to und erm in e a ll established a u th o rity . T h u s , Scholem
m aintain s th a t these believers were in fact the true forerunners
o f the E n lig h te n m e n t and o f p o litic a l rad ica lism am ong Je w ish
thinkers, n ot the m edieval ra tio n a lists as has co m m on ly been
asserted110:

T o the anarchic religious feeling o f these new Jews [the S abbatians], all
the three great in s titu tio n a l religions have no longer an absolute
value. [ . . . ] W hen the outbreak o f the French R evolution again gave a
p o litica l aspect to th e ir ideas, no great change was needed for them to
become the apostles o f an unbounded p o litic a l apocalypse. T he urge
towards revolutionizing a ll th a t existed [ . . . ] assumed an intensely prac­
tical aspect in the task o f ushering in the new age.111

A c co rd in g to the M essianic idea, the new age w ill end the h is to ric a l
era o f hum an suffering th a t began w ith the Fall. T he Age o f Redem p­
tio n is m arked by a resto ra tio n o f n atu re to its p arad isia cal
state. In keeping w ith K a b b a lis t exegetical u n d ersta nd in g , how ­
ever, this restoration is n o t lite ra lly a re tu rn ,112 because the w o rld ly
co nditions to w h ich the m y th o f Paradise w o u ld a p p ly as tr u th have
o n ly now appeared. W ith the advent o f the new age, the tru e m ean­
in g o f the ancient sto ry reveals its e lf fo r the firs t tim e, and in u n ­
expected ways.
T h e c e n tra lity o f the C re a tio n story fo r K a b b a lis t th o u g h t has
p o litic a l im p lic a tio n s . Because A d a m and Eve were the parents o f
a ll h u m a n ity , M essianic red e m p tio n is understood as an event in
universal h isto ry, ending the “ exile ” n o t ju s t o f the Je w ish n a tio n ,
b u t o f the w hole w o rld , e n ta ilin g “ a fu nd am e nta l tra n s fo rm a tio n o f
the entire C re a tio n .” 113 T h e M essianic vision o f a Paradise w ith an
“ ‘abundance o f w o rld ly goods’ ” 114 establishes the purpose o f u n i­
versal h um an h isto ry: to b rin g about “ a u top ia th a t as ye t has
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7 Is T his Philosophy?

never been, th a t as yet has never been capable o f r e a li z a t i o n . 15

B u t because the K a b b a lists believe there is “ no progress in h isto ry
lea din g to re d e m p tio n ,” 116 no developm ental d yn a m ic th a t g ua r­
antees the goal, the burden o f ushering in the M essianic Age falls
squarely on hum an beings, w ho fo r th e ir p a rt are n o t u n w illin g
tools in re a liz in g G o d ’s p la n, b u t h is to ric a l agents whose k n o w l­
edge and u n d ersta nd in g o f w h a t is a t stake is indispensable.117
Scholem describes the M essianic task:

A t opposite poles, both man and God encompass w ith in th e ir being the
entire cosmos. However, whereas God contains all by virtu e o f being its
C reator and In itia to r in whom everything is rooted and a ll potency is
hidden, m an’s role is to complete this process by being the agent through
w hom a ll the powers o f creation are fu lly activated and made manifest
[ . . . ]. M a n is the perfecting agent in the structure o f the cosmos [ . . . ].
Because he and he alone has been granted the g ift o f free w ill, it lies w ith in
his power to either [ jzV.] advance or d isru p t through his actions the u n ity
o f w hat takes place in the upper and lower w o rld s .118

In co ntrast to the ide alist tra d itio n , the K a b b a la h understands

a lie n a tio n as ignorance of, n ot separation fro m G o d .119 M oreo ver,
it is w ith n a tu re ra th e r than God th a t hum ans are to be reconciled.
Even in its fa lle n state, “ under the p en etra ting gaze o f the
m y s tic ,” 120 m a te ria l natu re is the sole source o f d iv in e knowledge:
“ [ . . . ] a ll [K Ja b b a lists agree th a t no religious know ledge o f God,
even o f the m ost exalted kin d , can be gained except th ro u g h con­
te m p la tio n o f the re la tio n sh ip o f God to cre a tio n .” 121 N a tu re is not
e v il122; it is shattered and im perfect. A cc o rd in g to Isaac L u r ia ’s
K a b b a lis t d o ctrin e o f Tikkun, the b reaking o f the “ vessels” o f G o d ’s
a ttrib u te s scattered d ivin e sparks in fragm ents th ro u g h o u t the
m a te ria l w o rld . T h e task o f healing these broken vessels, an enter­
prise in w h ic h “ m an and God are p a rtn e rs,” 123, reestablishes the
“ harm o nio us co n d itio n o f the w o rld ” n ot as a resto ratio n, b u t “ as
som ething n e w .” 124
F o r the K a b b a lists, w ords have a m ystical significance. L a n ­
guage plays a ce ntral role in the h isto rica l enterprise, fo r the F a ll
broke n o t o n ly the u n ity o f C re atio n , b u t the u n ity o f the A d a m ic
language o f Nam es. In the la tte r there is no gap between w ord and
referent, whereas the language o f ju d g m e n t w h ic h replaced it in te r­
prets n a tu re a b stra ctly as a sign o f its fallen state. T h e w hole th ru s t
o f h u m a n ity ’s m o ra l o b lig a tio n is a co gnitive one, th a t is, to over-
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come ignorance o f God by in te rp re tin g n atu re in term s o f the d iv in e

sparks w ith in it. T h e broken u n ity o f b oth natu re and language
dictates the specifics o f the in te rp re tiv e m ethod. K a b b a lis t exegesis
is antisystem ic. Each in te rp re tiv e frag m en t has, m on ad olo gica lly,
its ow n center; the m acrocosm is read w ith in the m icrocosm . N o
p a rt o f G o d ’ s creation, no w o rd o f the sacred texts, is too sm all or
in s ig n ific a n t n o t to m anifest, as a m onad, one o f the ten a ttrib u te s
o f G od, and thus to be ‘ “ understood and explained in reference to
red e m p tio n .’ ” 125 T h e d ivin e know ledge revealed in n a tu re is p lu r ­
a listic; i t exists in different, disconnected registers, presenting its e lf
in m etaphors, rid dle s, and m ysteries. N a tu re ’s m eaning is, in short,
as disparate and am biguous as the B aroque allegoricists insisted.
W h a t prevents this know ledge fro m being a rb itra ry ? W h a t
allows the K a b b a lists to c la im th a t th e ir readings are not m erely
allegorical? Scholem discusses this question e x p lic itly . H e firs t de­
fines allegory:

A llegory consists o f an in fin ite netw ork o f meanings and correlations in

w hich everything can become a representation o f everything else, b u t all
w ith in the lim its o f language and expression. T o that extent it is possible
to speak o f allegorical immanence. T h a t w hich is expressed by and in the
allegorical sign is in the firs t instance something w hich has its own
m eaningful context, b u t by becoming allegorical this som ething loses its
own meaning and becomes the vehicle o f something else. Indeed the alle­
gory arises, as it were, from the gap w hich at this p o in t opens between
the form and its meaning. T he tw o are no longer indissolubly welded
together; the m eaning is no longer restricted to that p a rtic u la r form , nor
the form any longer to th a t p a rtic u la r m eaningful content. W h a t appears
in the allegory, in short, is the in fin ity o f m eaning w hich attaches to every
representation.126

Scholem then contrasts a lle g o ry’s im m a n e n t m eaning to the

“ transcendent” m eaning o f the theological sy m b o l,127 d ra w in g ,
(precisely as B e n ja m in d id in the Trauerspiel s tu d y 128) on the firs t
volum e o f F rie d ric h C ru e ze r’s Mythologie (1819):

For the [K ja b b a lis t, too, every existing th in g is endlessly correlated w ith

the whole o f creation; fo r h im , too, everything m irro rs everything else. B u t
beyond th a t he discovers som ething else w hich is not covered by the
allegorical network: a reflection o f the true transcendence. The symbol
“ signifies” nothing and communicates nothing, b u t makes something
transparent w hich is beyond a ll expression. W here deeper insight in to
the structure o f the allegory uncovers fresh layers o f m eaning, the sym-
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7 Is This Philosophy?

bol is in tu itiv e ly understood all at once— or not at all. T he symbol in

w hich the life o f the C reator and th a t o f creation become one, is— to use
C reuzer’s w ords— “ a beam o f lig h t w hich, from the dark and abysmal
depths o f existence and cognition, falls in to o u r eye and penetrates our
whole being.” I t is a “ m om entary to ta lity ” w hich is perceived in tu itiv e ly
in a m ystical now — [Afa] the dimension o f tim e proper to the symbol.
O f such symbols the w o rld o f K a b b a lism is fu ll, nay the whole w o rld is
to the K a b b a list such a corpus symbolicum.129

T h e K a b b a lis t m ay sta rt o u t like the allegoricist, ju x ta p o s in g

sacred texts and n a tu ra l images; b u t when past text and present
im age come together in a w ay th a t suddenly b oth are illu m in a te d in
the M essianic lig h t o f red em ptio n, so th a t the h is to ric a l present
becomes visib le as pregnant w ith the p o te n tia l fo r a w o rld ly u topia,
then a lle g o ry ’s a rb itra rin ess is transcended. In the c la rity o f the
theological sym bol, “ re a lity becomes transparent. T h e in fin ite shines
th ro u g h the fin ite and makes it m ore and n o t less real [ . . . ] . ” 130
T h is is “ the p ro fou n d difference” between the “ allegorical in te r­
p re ta tio n o f re lig io n and its sym bo lica l u n d ersta nd in g by the
m ystics.” 131

W h a t is valuable in me and in the other “ Jews” is not Je w ish .132

As a Je w ish th in k e r, B e nja m in was a h e re tic .133 Sabbatai Z e v i’s

apostasy, his blasphem ous conversion to Is la m in 1666, was
enacted u n d e r th re a t o f death. I f B e n ja m in ’s avow al o f M a rx is m
lacked the elem ent o f forced conversion, it was nonetheless to ta lly
in keeping w ith w h a t he had learned fro m Scholem was the K a b ­
b a list tra d itio n o f a n titra d itio n a lis m . T h e Sabbatians ju s tifie d th e ir
leader’s act as “ a m ission to lift up the h o ly sparks w h ic h were
dispersed even am ong the gentiles and concentrated now in
Is la m .” 134 Scholem refused to m ake s im ila r concessions to his
frie n d , te llin g B e nja m in th a t his a tte m p t to w rite as a M a rx is t was
n o th in g m ore than “ self-deception in an u n u su a lly intensive
fo rm .” 135
I t m u st be emphasized th a t w h ile B e n ja m in fo r his p a rt con­
tin u e d to fin d Scholem ’s w o rk on the h isto ry o f the K a b b a la h “ use­
fu l” and ve ntu re d even as a M a rx is t to say th a t he read i t “ w ith
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Part I I I

p ro fit,” 136 he confessed n e ith e r general interest in , 137 n o r great

fa m ilia rity w ith the K a b b a lis t texts, re fe rrin g in fact to the “ abyss
o f ignorance” th a t was his “ in this re g io n .” 138 I f his earliest w r it ­
ings displayed “ K a b b a lis t” elements, these m ay w ell have
come to B e nja m in in d ire c tly , via the language philosophies o f
J o h a n n G eorg H a m a n and the G erm an R o m a n tic s .139 M oreo ver,
by the tim e he began conceiving the Passagen-Werk, it was n o t the
K a b b a lis t Zohar, b u t a S u rre alist te xt th a t kept B e n ja m in awake
nights w ith p o u n d in g heart. Moses de Leon, a u th o r o f the Zohar,
saw the face o f God in the ten “ m ystical crow ns” o f the S e firo th 140;
L ou is A ra go n, a u th o r o f Le paysan de Paris, saw the face o f G od in a
gas ta n k 141. A n d i f the Zohar contained m ed itatio ns on the T ree o f
L ife , the m e d ita tive objects o f B re to n ’s S urrealist novel N adja142
were objects o f the “ new ” nature: a w o m a n ’s glove, a cigarette
ly in g in an ashtray, the lu m in o u s sign a d ve rtisin g M a z d a lig h t-
bulbs on the boulevard. Y e t th a t w h ich distin gu ishe d the th eo log i­
cal sym bol, the “ u n ity o f sensory and supersensory o b je c t,” 143 is
precisely w h a t B e n ja m in fo un d in these S urrealist texts. A ra go n
w rote in Le paysan de P aris:

I t seemed to me that the essence o f these pleasures was to ta lly m etaphy­

sical, th a t it im plied a kind o f passionate taste for revelation. A n object
transfigured its e lf before m y eyes, taking on neither the a llu re o f allegory
nor the character o f the [aesthetic] symbol; it was less the m anifestation o f
an idea than the idea itself. I t extended deep in to earthly m a tte r.144

As w ith the Trauerspiel allegoricists, B e n ja m in considered the S u r­

realists* reve la to ry vision o f h is to ric a lly tran sien t objects a p h ilo ­
sophical p osition ra th e r th a n an aesthetic te c h n iq u e .145 I t was
“ profane illu m in a tio n — o f a m a te ria l, a n th ro p o lo g ic a l in s p ira ­
tio n .” 146 T h e cognitive experience w h ich the S u rre alist images
p ro vid e d, w h ile related to th a t o f the m ystics, was “ d ia le c tic a l”
ra th e r th an “ m ysteriou s,” and in fact m ore d iffic u lt to a tta in .
B e n ja m in called i t “ the true , creative o vercom ing o f religio us illu ­
m in a tio n ,” fo r w h ich religio us experience (as w e ll as hashish o r
fa llin g in love) was m erely the “ preschool.” 147
B u t even as B e n ja m in affirm ed this m a te ria lis t reve la tio n over
the s p iritu a l one, he s till continued to insist th a t the m eta ph ysical
w ritin g s o f his e arly years were related to “ the m ethod o f observa­
tio n o f d ia le ctica l m a te ria lis m ” w h ich he la te r adopted, even i f by
“ a tense and p ro b le m a tic m e d ia tio n .” 148 M oreo ver, he fo rm u la te d
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7 Is T his Philosophy?

entries to Konvolut N o f the Passagen-Werk th a t described the m ethod

o f the “ h isto rica l m a te ria lis t” as “ th eo log y,” a p p ro p ria tin g in this
context e x p lic itly “ p o litica l-th e o lo g ica l categories” 149 (apokatasta-
sis, re d e m p tio n )— n ot ju s t in the last years o f his life w hen p o litic a l
d is illu s io n m e n t was intense,150 b u t th ro u g h o u t the p eriod o f his
w o rk on the project. W r itin g in 1935 w ith regard to the Passagen-
Werk expose ju s t com pleted, B e n ja m in a ttrib u te d the slow tem po o f
its fo rm u la tio n to the fact th a t the “ mass o f thoughts and images”
th a t were his from a m uch e arlie r tim e and th a t had th e ir origins
“ in im m e d ia te ly m etaphysical, indeed, theological th in k in g ,” had
to undergo a “ to ta l re v o lu tio n ” — n o t in o rd er to eliminate this
th in k in g , b u t: “ so th a t it m ig h t n ou rish m y present conception w ith
its entire energy.” 151
T h ro u g h its “ to ta l re v o lu tio n ” theological tra d itio n is to be
saved. T h is is o nly an apparent co n tra d ictio n . T h e p aradox re­
solves its e lf i f the u r-o ld u to p ia n themes to w h ich theology firs t gave
expression are understood to have found, p o te n tia lly , th e ir true
referents in the m od em epoch o f “ new n a tu re ” w h ich has o nly
ju s t begun.

“ U r-h is to ry o f the nineteenth century” — this w ould have no interest i f it

were understood to mean th a t ur-h isto rica l forms are to be rediscovered
w ith in the inventory o f the nineteenth century. The conception [ . . . ] has
m eaning only where the nineteenth century is presented as the originary
form o f U r-h isto ry, the form , that is, in w hich all o f U r-h is to ry groups
its e lf in new images, indigenous to the past ce n tu ry.152

M y th ic , u r-h is to ric a l themes are fo r the firs t tim e “ leg ible ” 153 as
profane discourse, because they now have real, h is to ric a l referents.
As e m b le m a tic captions, they cohere to n in etee nth-cen tu ry images
w ith a new and surprising adequacy.154 T he F all th a t alienates na­
ture from hum an beings describes accurately the p ro du ction o f com­
modities in its historical p a rticu la rly— as M a rx ’s early texts make
c le a r.155 S im ila rly , the B ib lic a l loss o f the language o f Names
ide ntifie s the essence o f abstract la b o r th a t characterizes this
p ro d u c tio n .156 T h e d e va lu atio n o f the old n atu re th a t found ex­
pression in C h ris tia n allegory is experienced sui generis b y Baude­
la ire in the m arketplace, w here the “ m eaning” o f com m odities is
n o t the act o f th e ir creation, b u t th e ir e xtrin s ic and a rb itra ry
p ric e .157 Satanic q ua litie s o f death and eternal recurrence coalesce
a round th is co m m o d ity w o rld as fashion. B u t the new n atu re is not
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Part I I I

evil. Scattered th ro u g h o u t its objects, the “ d iv in e sparks” de­

scribed by the d octrine o f Tikkun take the fo rm o f socialist p o te n tia l,
a transcendent element, the existence o f w h ich is no less real than
the c a p ita lis t social relations th a t p revent its a ctua liza tion . As B en­
ja m in says e x p lic itly in the passage on “ the G a m b le r,” the o n ly
m eaning o f sin is to accept the given state o f things, su rren de rin g to
it as fa te .158 In contrast, “ the N am e knows no greater opponent
th an fa te .” 159 H u m a n ity ’s h is to ric a l re sp o n sib ility is an in te rp re tiv e
task, “ n a m in g ” b oth the socialist p o te n tia l o f the new nature (now
synonym ous w ith n a tu re ’s “ re d e m p tio n ” ) and the fa ilu re o f h is to ry
to realize it. T h is task is the v ita l core o f the Passagen-Werk. Ben­
ja m in w rites:

The phrase “ the Book o f N a tu re ” indicates th a t we can read re a lity like a

text. T h a t w ill be the approach here to the re a lity o f the nineteenth cen­
tu ry. W e break open the book o f w h a t has come to pass.160

T o read re a lity like a te xt is to recognize th e ir difference.

One m ust keep m aking it clear how com m entary on a re a lity [ . . . ] needs
a to ta lly different method than com m entary on a text. In the form er case
theology is the fundam ental science; in the la tte r it is p h ilo lo g y .161

H o w can the Passagen-Werk m ake the m etaphysical cla im to be a

com m entary on “ re a lity ” ? T h is brings us back to the heart o f the
p hilo so p h ica l pro ble m . W h y is the Arcades p roject n o t m erely an
a rb itra ry , aesthetic representation o f the nineteenth ce ntu ry, a
p o litic a l allegory th a t appro priate s theological themes fo r M a r x ­
ist ends— in w h ich case it w o u ld fa ll rig h tly to the d o m a in o f
p oe try (no t to speak o f pro pa ga nd a ), and Jauss’ c riticism s w o u ld
be correct?
In the Passagen-Werk B e n ja m in defines allegory as the a c tiv ity o f
the ponderer, whose reflective a ttitu d e is one o f recollection:

The case o f the ponderer is th a t o f the man who already had the resolution
to great problems, bu t has forgotten them. A n d now he ponders, not so
m uch about the th in g as about his past m editations over it. The th in k in g
o f the ponderer stands therefore in the sign o f remembering. Ponderer and
allegoricist are out o f one piece o f w ood.162
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7 Is This Philosophy?

T he m em ory o f the ponderer holds sway over the disordered mass o f

dead knowledge. H um an knowledge is piecework to it in a p a rtic u la rly
pregnant sense: namely as the heaping up o f a rb itra rily cut up pieces, out
o f w hich one puts together a puzzle. [ . . . ] T he allegoricist reaches now
here, now there, in to the chaotic depths th a t his knowledge places at his
disposal, grabs an item out, holds it next to another, and sees whether
they fit: th a t m eaning to this image, o r this image to th a t meaning. The
result never lets its e lf be predicted; fo r there is no n a tu ra l m ediation be­
tween the tw o .163

B e n ja m in sees the ponderer's b e h avior as closely connected to th a t

o f the c o lle c to r,164 w ho assembles things th a t have been set o u t o f
c irc u la tio n and are meaningless as use values. C o lle c tin g the no
lon ge r useful object is an a c tiv ity governed by the category o f
“ com pleteness,” w h ich , says B e n ja m in , is

[ . . . ] a grand attem pt to overcome the to ta lly irra tio n a l fact o f its merely
being-here-at-hand by ordering it in to a historical system, the collection,
that he has him se lf created. A n d for the true collector every single item in
this system becomes an encyclopedia o f a ll knowledge o f the epoch, the
d is tric t, the industry, the owner, from whence it comes.165

S urely B e n ja m in ’s w o rk brings h im in to a ffin ity w ith b oth types; in

his dealings w ith nin etee nth-cen tu ry phenom ena he is b oth ponder­
er and collector. B u t he describes in ve ry d ifferen t term s his task as
the h is to ric a l m a te ria lis t w ho “ blasts a p a rt” the c o n tin u u m o f his­
to ry , co n stru ctin g “ h isto rica l objects” in a p o litic a lly explosive
“ co nste lla tion o f past and present,” as a “ lig h tn in g fla sh ” o f tru th .
A lle g o ric a l im age and d ia le ctica l im age are d is tin c t. T h e m ean­
in g o f the fo rm e r rem ains an expression o f subjective in te n tio n , and
is u ltim a te ly a rb itra ry . T h e m eaning o f the la tte r is objective, not
o n ly in the M a rx is t sense, as an expression o f so ciohistorical tru th ,
b u t also, sim u ltan e ou sly, in the m ystico-th eo lo gica l sense, as “ a
refle ction o f the true transcendence,” 166 to use Scholem ’s phrase.
B e n ja m in ’s “ d ia le c tica l images” resemble w h a t Scholem describes
as “ theological sym bols,” in w h ich even the m ost “ in s ig n ific a n t”
phenom ena are “ understood and explained in reference to
re d e m p tio n .” 167 In the Passagen-Werk, these phenom ena are the de­
caying objects o f the nineteenth ce ntu ry, the m o rtifie d new nature
th a t comes back to life w ith a b ra n d new m eaning as the m ystical
“ corpus symbolicum.” T h e code th a t unlocks th e ir ideological m ean­
in g is the co m m o d ity fo rm . B u t the code in w h ic h they are re-
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Part I I I

deemed (and this begins to be recognized by social dream ers w hen

the objects firs t appear in the nineteenth century) is the u r-o ld ,
theological m y th o f w o rld ly u to p ia as the o rig in and goal o f h isto ry.
I n the Theses on H is to ry , B e n ja m in observes: “ T h e G rea t R ev­
o lu tio n in tro du ced a new ca le n d a r.55168 H e is re fe rrin g to the act
o f the French R evolutionary C onvention declaring 1792 the year 1 o f
a new w o rld era, a gesture o f the universa l h um an significance o f
th is p a rtic u la r h isto rica l event. N o w , w ith the establishm ent o f a
new p o litic a l discourse o f h u m a n rig h ts and dem ocratic rule (and
no m a tte r how long the bourgeoisie pretends otherw ise), class
d o m in a tio n as the s tru ctu re o f society loses p o litic a l le g itim a c y ;
w ith the advent o f the in d u s tria l re v o lu tio n , w h ic h has real p oten­
tia l to achieve universal m a te ria l w ell-b e in g, class d o m in a tio n loses
econom ic le g itim a cy as w e ll.169 O nce the M essianic prom ise is n o t
a m y th b u t h is to ric a lly “ a c tu a l/5 in the sense th a t it is realizable,
fro m this p o in t on, tim e can be said to exist in tw o registers: as
secular history, the sequence o f (cata strop hic) events th a t m a rk h u ­
m an tim e w ith o u t fu lfillin g it; and as re vo lu tio n a ry “ n o w -tim e /5
every m om ent o f w h ich is irra d ia te d w ith the real a n tic ip a tio n o f
re d e m p tio n — ju s t as, “ [ f ] o r the Jews [ . . . ] every second was the
n a rro w p o rta l th ro u g h w h ic h the M essiah was able to e nte r.55170
These tim e registers do n o t fo llo w one another se quentially in the
new era; they overlap (d isp la y G ), the one given, the other, con­
tin u o u sly, a ra tio n a l p o s s ib ility . T h e y rem ain disconnected u n til
the act o f p o litic a l re v o lu tio n cuts across h is to ry ’ s secular con-

Display G

M essianic
Tim e

Empirical
H istory ^

I
I
R evolutionary
Action
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7 Is This Philosophy?

tin u u m and blasts h u m a n ity out o f it, a “ leap u n d e r the open skies
o f h is to ry [ . . . ] w h ich is how M a rx conceived the re v o lu tio n .” 171
In d escrib ing how the idea o f progress is rejected by “ the religious
view o f h is to ry ,” B e nja m in cites Lotze: ‘ “ [ . . . ] we w o u ld presume
too m uch to try to discover progress in h isto ry lo n g itu d in a lly , b ut
ra th e r [ . . . ] in an u p w a rd d ire ctio n at every single one o f its
p o in ts .” ’ 172 H is ow n conception o f d ia le ctica l m a te ria lis m has m ore
affinities to this view than to any n o tio n — religious or secular— o f
h is to ry as a teleological progression.
P o litic a l action is the lin k between the tw o registers o f h isto rica l
tim e. T h is lin k is possible because the h is to ry o f the in d iv id u a l re­
capitulates th a t o f the cosmos. T he m etaphysical tru th o f h is to ry ’s
o rig in and goal— the loss o f im m e diate presence and the socially
m ediated task o f its re sto ra tio n — is ve rifie d by personal experience.
I t is the u n fu lfille d p o te n tia l fo r happiness o f o u r own recollected
past th a t gives us in s ig h t in to the M essianic d ra m a o f the cosmos.

Happiness is only conceivable to us in terms o f the a ir w hich we have

breathed, among those people who have lived w ith us. In other words, the
idea o f happiness— and here is w hat the rem arkable fact [o f o u r lack o f
envy o f the fu tu re ] teaches us— resonates w ith the idea o f redem ption.
T h is happiness is founded precisely upon the despair and forsakenness
w hich were ours. In other words, our life is a muscle th a t has enough
strength to contract the whole o f historical time. O r in s till other words,
the authentic conception o f historical tim e rests w h o lly and to ta lly on the
image o f redem ption.173

Is u n fu lfille d u to p ia n p o te n tia l a psychological category (a wish o f

the collective unconscious) or a m etaphysical one (the ve ry essence
o f the o bjective w o rld )? Perhaps B e nja m in (w ho never th o u g h t o f
m etaphysics as a fo rm o f d o m in a tio n ) means both. C on te m p o ra ry
psycho an alytic th eo ry m ig h t argue th a t the desire fo r im m e diate
presence can never be fu lfille d . Perhaps B e n ja m in w o u ld respond
th a t it makes no difference. T he p o in t is, rath e r, th a t this u topian
desire can and m ust be trusted as the m o tiv a tio n o f p o litic a l action
(even as this action u na voida b ly mediates the desire)— can, be­
cause every experience o f happiness or despair th a t was ours
teaches us th a t the present course o f events does n o t exhaust rea l­
it y ’s p o te n tia l; and m ust, because re vo lu tio n is understood as a
M essianic break fro m h is to ry ’s course and n o t its c u lm in a tio n . T h e
M essianic Age as “ a ctu a l,” th a t is, as p o te n tia lly present, is the
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Part I I I

te m p ora l dim ension th a t charges images in the collective unco n ­

scious w ith explosive pow er in the p o litic a l sense. P lo ttin g the
events o f e m p irica l h is to ry in re la tio n to this tim e register provides
the th ird axis in the coordinate s tru ctu re o f d ia le ctica l images— the
c ru c ia l axis fo r b oth the p o litic a l and the p h ilo so p h ica l pow er o f the
project.

I f we are reading in to B e n ja m in ’s texts at this p o in t, it is a ccording

to his in stru ctio n s. Konvolut N states clearly: “ T h e a u th e n tic con­
cept o f universal h isto ry is a M essianic one.” 174 In “ n o w -tim e ,”

tru th is laden w ith tim e to the p o in t o f explosion. The death o f in te n tio n is

nothing else b u t this explosion, w hich thus coincides w ith the b irth o f
historical tim e, the tim e o f tr u th .175

Recollected u nd er the category o f red em ptio n, the e m p iric a lly

finished suffering o f h is to ry is unfin ish ed :

T h is is theology; b u t in recollection we have an experience th a t forbids us

to conceive o f history as fundam entally atheological, ju s t as we are not
allowed to try to w rite it in im m ediately theological concepts.176

W h y are “ im m e d ia te ly theological concepts” forbidden? B e n ja m in

cannot m ean here th a t it is because they viola te the (C o m m u n is t)
P a rty line . R athe r, such concepts w o u ld d is to rt theological tru th by
d ra gg ing the new back in to the discourse o f the o ld ; whereas the
tru e M essianic task is to resurrect the old w ith in the discourse o f
the new.
W ere B e n ja m in to use theological concepts openly, he w o u ld be
g iv in g J u d a ic expression to the goals o f u niversal h is to ry ; by
eschewing them , he gives u n ive rsa l-h isto rica l expression to the
goals o f Ju d a ism . T h e difference is crucial. Ju d a is m proves its
chosen status' by disa pp ea rin g in to secular, n o n n a tio n a lis t p o litic s .
D isappearance is, p a ra d o xica lly, the price p a id fo r the s u rv iv a l o f
any p a rtic u la ris tic re lig io n in the M essianic Age. Such a d ia le c tic a l
“ rescue” is a n tith e tic a l to the eternal re tu rn o f the same.
T h e a lle go ricist juxtaposes m o ra l captions to images o f a m o r­
tifie d nature. B e n ja m in ’s ra d ica l, “ negative theology” (as A d o rn o
called it) replaces the lost n a tu ra l aura o f the object w ith a m etaphy-
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7 Is This Philosophy?

sical one th a t makes natu re as m o rtifie d g lo w w ith p o litic a l m ean­

ing. U n lik e n a tu ra l aura, the illu m in a tio n th a t d ia le c tic a l images
p ro vid e is a m ediated experience, ig n ite d w ith in the force fie ld o f
a n tith e tic a l tim e registers, e m p irica l h is to ry and M essianic h istory.
T h e airpla ne , m ira culou s object o f the new natu re , has no theo­
log ical m eaning in itself. T h a t w o u ld be phanta sm ag oria (— one
th inks o f the im age o f H itle r ’s plane fly in g d iv in e ly though the
clouds in R iefe nstah l’s film “ T riu m p h o f the W ill” ). T h e a irp la n e ’s
th eological m eaning in B e n ja m in ’ s sense emerges o n ly in its “ con­
s tru c tio n ” as a h isto rica l object. W h e n the o rig in a ry , ur-im age o f
the a irp la n e is b ro u g h t together w ith its h is to ric a lly present form ,
the double focus illu m in a te s both in d u s tria l n a tu re ’s u top ian
p o te n tia l and, sim ultaneously, the b etraya l o f th a t p o te n tia l:

“ B om ber planes make us remember w hat Leonardo D a V in c i expected o f

the flig h t o f man; he was to have raised h im se lf in to the a ir ‘In order to
look for snow on the m ountain summ its, and then re tu rn to scatter it over
city streets shim m ering w ith the heat o f sum m er.’ ” 177

T o d a y ’s b o m b -d ro p p in g airplanes are the d ia le ctica l antitheses o f

D a V in c i’s u to p ia n a n tic ip a tio n . W hen the p h ilo so p h ica l gaze
scrutinizes the ju x ta p o s itio n o f these images, u to p ia n and real, it is
com pelled n o t o n ly to recognize technical n a tu re ’s o rig in a l state o f
innocence, b u t to study e m p iric a l h is to ry fo r the reasons w h y tech­
nology nonetheless came to terrorize h u m a n ity . Such know ledge
leads to to ta l, n ih ilis tic m is tru s t in this h is to ry ’s progress, b u t it can
tra n sfo rm the rage o f a h u m a n ity betrayed in to energy fo r p o litic a l
m o b iliz a tio n in o rd e r to break free o f i t . 178 T h u s theological illu ­
m in a tio n th a t redeems past h istory, and p o litic a l education th a t
condem ns it, are one and the same endeavor.

N o p o in t in B e n ja m in ’s p hiloso ph y has been m ore vehem ently con­

tested th a n his a tte m p t to fuse theological and M a rx is t exegesis in
the nam e o f h is to ric a l m ate ria lism . So vociferous a chorus o f c r iti­
cism needs to be confronted d ire c tly . W e have already discussed
Scholem ’s to ta l skepticism reg ardin g w h a t we have called Ben­
ja m in ’s apostatic conversion to M a rx is m . B recht, as a M a rx is t, was
no less appalled:
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Part I I I

benjam in is here [ . . . ]. he says: when you feel a gaze directed to you, even
behind your back, you return it (!). the expectation that w hat you look at
looks back at you provides the aura. [ . . . ] it is a ll m ysticism , in a posture
opposed to mysticism, it is in such a form that the m aterialistic concept o f
history is adopted! it is rather g h a stly.179

I t was A d o rn o to w hom B e n ja m in com m unicated m ost accurately

w h a t he hoped the Arcades p ro je ct w o u ld a ccom plish.180 A n d it
was A d o rn o w ho, at least at firs t, was m ost appreciative o f precisely
the “ theo log ica l” pole o f B e n ja m in ’s d ia le ctica l m a te ria lis m ,
a d o p tin g it as his o w n .181 In th e ir correspondence, A d o rn o referred
to the “ negative” o r “ inverse theo log y” w h ich they shared; and in
response to B e n ja m in ’s essay on K a fk a (1934), w h ic h m ade a d is­
tin c tio n between cosmic epochs ( W eltalter) and epochs o f e m p iric a l
h is to ry (Z eitalter), he noted th a t since “ we recognize n e ith e r deca­
dence n o r progress in the o vert sense,” the concept o f Z eitalter
“ [ . . . ] is fo r us tru ly nonexistent [ . . . ] b u t instead o n ly the cosm ic
epoch, as an e xtra p o la tio n o u t o f the p e trifie d present. A n d I kn ow
th a t no one w o u ld sooner g ra n t me this theoretical p o in t th a n
y o u .” 182 B u t the Passagen-Werk expose com pleted ju s t one year la te r
dam pened A d o rn o ’s enthusiasm considerably. H e disapproved o f
B e n ja m in ’s strategy o f try in g to avoid theological term s by tra n s la t­
in g th e ir contents in to psychological categories th a t referred to the
collective unconscious.183 T h e p hiloso ph ical pro ble m w h ic h con­
cerned A d o rn o increa sing ly was th a t between “ m y th ” (the p h a n ­
tasm agoria o f e m p irica l h is to ry ), and “ re c o n c ilia tio n ” (h is to ry ’ s
M essianic goal) “ the subject evaporates.” 184 O f course B e n ja m in
clea rly d id affirm hum an subjects as autonom ous agents in the
sense th a t th e ir p o litic a l action was indispensable as the lin k be­
tween Z eitalter and W eltalter; it was th e ir re v o lu tio n a ry praxis th a t
w o u ld usher in the M essianic epoch. B u t fo r A d o rn o th a t was n o t
enough. As he w rote in retrospect, B e n ja m in “ reduces this a u to n ­
om y to a m om ent o f tra n s itio n in a d ia le ctica l process, as w ith the
tra g ic hero, and the re co n cilia tio n o f m an w ith the creation has as
its c o n d itio n the d isso lutio n o f a ll self-posited h um an existence.” 185
T he olo gy, after a ll, was as m uch a category o f e m p iric a l h is to ry
as a category in opp osition to th a t h isto ry, and the E n lig h te n m e n t
th inke rs, in c lu d in g M a rx , had n o t fo ug ht against it w ith o u t good
cause. U ltim a te ly , A d o rn o tu rn ed to a rt, h um an creation, ra th e r
th an n ature, G o d ’s creation, in o rd er to gro un d the transcendent
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7 Is This Philosophy?

elem ent in his p hilosophy. H e paid a price. H is ow n th eo ry can be

subsumed w ith in e m p irica l h is to ry ’s c u ltu ra l c o n tin u u m . R evolv­
ing p re d ic ta b ly a round the binaries o f R om an ticism (a rt) and E n ­
lig h te n m e n t (c ritic a l reason), A d o rn o ’s p hiloso ph y can be read as
an in te g ra l p a rt o f the bourgeois in te lle c tu a l tra d itio n — th a t Z eital-
ter w h ich in 1934 A d o rn o had been so ready to dism iss. B e nja m in
was to ta lly u n w illin g to give up the register o f cosmic tim e as an
axis fo r p lo ttin g both philosophy and p o litic a l practice.
O f a ll the attem pts to grapple w ith the “ th eo log ica l” in Ben­
ja m in ’s conception o f h isto rica l m a te ria lis m ,186 R o lf T ie d e m a n n ’s
1975 essay on the Theses on H is to ry is the m ost scrupulous, p h ilo -
lo g ic a lly and in te lle c tu a lly .187 W ith access as B e n ja m in ’s e d ito r to
the s till unp ub lish ed m a n u scrip t o f the Arcades p ro je ct (and d ra w ­
in g specifically fro m entries in Konvolut N ), T ied em an n argues
c o n v in c in g ly 188 in regard to the Theses on H is to ry th a t when
theological o r m ystical concepts appear there, they have “ a m ate r­
ia lis t in te n t” 189; there is “ no th o u g h t here o f a M essiah in the re li­
gious sense,” 190 as is clear from B e n ja m in ’s note fo r the Theses on
H is to ry : “ T n the concept o f the classless society, M a rx secularized
the concept o f the M essianic Age. A n d th a t was as it should
be.’ ” 191 B u t T ied em an n knows th a t this is o n ly h a lf the issue:

[ . . . A ]n interpretatio n o f the theses w ould stop halfw ay i f it did not ask

why B enjam in proceeds in this manner: at certain points he translates
back into the language o f theology that w hich M a rx “ had secularized” —
w hich B enjam in thought was “ as it should be.” 192

T ie d e m a n n can fin d no philosophical reason fo r B e n ja m in ’s reverse

tra n sla tio n . H e searches instead fo r e xtrin sic causes, and finds
them in the p o litic a l s itu a tio n , m ost u rg e n tly, “ the [1939] alliance
between S ta lin and H itle r .” 193 B u t i f this explains, fo r T ied em an n,
B e n ja m in ’s retre at in to theological language, it does not, in his
view , ju s tify it. B e n ja m in ’s effort to connect re v o lu tio n a ry destruc­
tio n and the idea o f red em ptio n was u ltim a te ly “ an a tte m p t to
u n ite the irre c o n c ila b le .” 194 In it, T ied em an n sees a resurgence o f
B e n ja m in ’s early anarchism :

B enjam in’s idea o f p o litic a l praxis in the 1940 theses has more o f the enthu­
siasm o f the anarchists than the sobriety o f M a rxism . I t becomes a cloudy
m ixture o f aspects o f utopian socialism and o f B lanquism , producing a
p o litica l Messianism w hich can neither take Messianism really seriously
nor be seriously transposed in to p o litic s .195
248
Part I I I

In an in flu e n tia l essay w ritte n in 1972 (before the Passagen-Werk

was availab le ), Ju rg en H aberm as finds B e n ja m in ’ s p h ilo so p h ica l
p o sitio n in the Theses s im ila rly untenable, i f fo r som ewhat differen t
reasons. H aberm as argues th a t B e n ja m in ’s M essianic conception
o f h isto ry as a ra d ica l break fro m the past is in c o m p a tib le w ith
M a r x ’ s theory o f h isto ry, because in the la tte r, precisely the de­
ve lopm ent o f e m p irica l h is to ry creates the d yn a m ic tension o u t o f
w h ic h socialism is b orn. O n e cannot, he protests, s lip “ an a n ti-
e vo lu tio n a ry conception o f h is to ry ” over M a rx is m “ lik e a m o n k ’s
c o w l” : “ T h is a tte m p t m ust fa il, because the a n a rch istic conception
o f ’n ow -tim e s’ th a t in te rm itte n tly break though fate fro m above, as
it were, cannot sim p ly be inserted in to the m a te ria lis tic theory o f
social developm ent.” 196 H aberm as understands the “ re d e m p tive ”
pole o f B e n ja m in ’s m ethod as an a tte m p t to salvage the “ sem antic
p o te n tia l fro m w h ic h h u m a n beings d ra w in order to invest the
e xpe rie ntia l w o rld w ith m ea nin g.” 197 H e says th a t B e n ja m in be­
lieved i f the “ sem antic energies o f m y th ” were to be lost to h u m a n ­
ity , “ the poetic ca pacity to in te rp re t the w o rld in the lig h t o f hum an
needs w o u ld thereby be d en ie d.” 198 Regardless o f its m erits, he
continues, this is a “ co nse rva tive-revo lu tio na ry u nd ersta n d in g o f
c ritiq u e ” 199 because it has “ no im m a n e n t re la tio n sh ip to p o litic a l
p ra x is .” 200 I t is a n tith e tic a l to the M a rx ia n m ethod o f Ideologiekritik,
the c ritic a l a ttitu d e o f w h ich , according to H aberm as, B e n ja m in fe ll
be h in d .201 I n his recent book, R ich a rd W o lin agrees th a t Ben­
ja m in ’s conservative, indeed, n ostalgic202 a ttitu d e to w a rd tra d itio n
cannot be u na m b igu ou sly reconciled w ith M a rx is t p o litic s . H e is,
however, m ore sanguine th a n H aberm as in ju d g in g B e n ja m in ’s
“ relevance fo r h isto rica l m a te ria lis m ” ; it lies “ precisely in the
reve re ntia l a ttitu d e he assumed to w ard tra d itio n ,” 203 because this
a ttitu d e provides “ a decisive corrective to M a rx is m ’s custom ary
d e v a lu a tio n ” o f cu ltu re as a su p e rstru ctu ra l phenom enon,204 even
i f the a tte m p t to com bine th is reverence w ith h isto rica l m a te ria lis m
resulted in philoso ph ical a m bivalence.205
T hu s, despite differences am ong those w ho have taken B e n ja m in
s e rio u s ly . as a philosopher, the o v e rrid in g o p in io n is th a t his
a tte m p t to fuse “ theology” and h isto rica l m a te ria lism fa ile d, and
perhaps was bound to. B u t i f we are correct in u n d ersta nd in g how ,
fo r B e n ja m in , theology fu n ctio n s as an axis o f p h ilo so p h ica l e xpe ri­
ence, and how this differs fro m the fu n c tio n o f “ re lig io n ” as p a rt o f
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7 Is This Philosophy?

the ide olo gica l superstructure, it w o u ld appear th a t th is conclusion

is not ine vitab le.

10

T h e h erm e ne utic m ethod o f the K a b b a la h as B e nja m in understood

i t was a n tih is to ric is t, unconcerned w ith show ing things “ ‘as they
a c tu a lly w ere.’ ” 206 I t satisfied B e n ja m in ’s m andate th a t in the
rescue o f tra d itio n , “ h isto rica l objects are to be rip pe d o u t o f
c o n te xt” 207 w ith “ a firm , a p p a re n tly b ru ta l grasp.” 208 In the s p irit
o f the K a b b a la h , B e n ja m in ’s red em ptio n o f the “ sem antic poten­
tia l” o f the past is in no w ay an act o f n osta lgia.209 H e believed th a t
the elements o f archaic m yth have no true m eaning in themselves,
b u t o n ly as “ a ctu a l,” as keys fo r d e ciph ering w h a t is absolutely new
a bo ut m o d e rn ity , th a t is, its real p o te n tia l fo r a classless society.
A rc h a ic images are no longer m y th ic , b u t “ genuinely h is to ric a l,” 210
w hen they refer to real h isto rica l possibilities, and become capa­
ble thereby o f charging even the m ost com m onplace, secular
phenom ena w ith p o litic a l significance. T h is is p o litic a l vision.
S im ulta ne ou sly, on another in te rp re tiv e axis, M a rx is m provides
B e n ja m in w ith a m ethod fo r a na lyzin g the course o f m o d e rn ity ’s
e m p iric a l h isto ry: C o m m o d ity p ro d u c tio n reifies the m y th ic ele­
ments, creating w ith in the superstructure a c u ltu ra l phantasm agoria
w h ic h , fo r a ll its m a te ria l re a lity , ensures th a t the u to p ia n prom ise
o f m y th rem ains iz/zrealized. T h is is p o litic a l dem ystificatio n.
W ith o u t theology (the axis o f transcendence) M a rx is m falls in to
p o sitivism ; w ith o u t M a rx is m (the axis o f e m p iric a l h isto ry) theolo­
gy falls into magic. D ialectical images indeed emerge at the “ cross­
roads between m agic and p o s itiv is m ,” b u t a t this n u llp o in t, b oth
“ roads” are negated— and at the same tim e d ia le c tic a lly overcome.
T h e p ro b le m , as B e nja m in h im s e lf recognized, was in the con­
s tru ctio n : I f the substance o f d ia le ctica l images was to be found in
everyday objects and profane texts, how were these to be contex­
tualized in such a w ay th a t th e ir theological (i.e., philosophico-
p o litic a l) m eaning w o u ld be recognized? E x p lic itly theological
form ulations appear in the early notes o f the Passsagen-Werk, in clu d ­
in g the passage on the g am ble r th a t refers to the “ h e llis h ” re p e titio n
o f tim e, the “ sin ” o f s u b m ittin g to fate, and “ the N am e” as fate’ s
greatest opponent. T h is passage impressed A d o rn o as “ g en ia l” in
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Part I I I

the p ro je c t’s “ glorious firs t d ra ft.” 211 B u t by the tim e o f the 1935
expose, such discourse disappears. As Konvolut N makes clear,212
theology never ceased to a nim a te the w o rk; b u t it was to become
in v is ib le . W e have argued th a t B e n ja m in adopted this strategy lest
his m ode o f expression d ra w the m eaning o f the “ new n a tu re ” back
in to religious p a rtic u la ris m , ra th e r th an this n a tu re ’s p u llin g th e o l­
ogy o u t o f the ideological su pe rstru cture and in to the realm o f secu­
la r p olitics.
F or a ll th e ir a ffin ity w ith C re uze r’s descrip tio n o f theological
sym bols, d ia le ctica l images are described by B e nja m in in m odern
m etaphors: T h e “ lig h tn in g fla sh ” o f cogn itio n they p ro vid e is like
illu m in a tio n from a cam era fla shb ulb; the images them selves—
“ dialectics at a s ta n d s till” 213— are like camera shots, th a t “ de­
ve lo p ” in tim e as in a d arkro o m :

“ The past has left images o f its e lf in lite ra ry texts that are com parable to
those w hich lig h t im p rin ts on a photosensitive plate. O n ly the future pos­
sesses developers active enough to b rin g these plates out p erfectly.” 214

These images are to be ju xta p o se d like film 215:

Regarding the m odern-day rh y th m w hich determines this w ork: V e ry

characteristic in movies is the counterplay between the to ta lly sporadic
image sequence that gratifies the very deep need o f this generation to see
the “ flo w ” o f “ developm ent” disavowed, and the accom panying music.
So, too, the tendency in this w o rk is to banish “ developm ent” from the
image o f history dow n to the last detail, and to represent Becoming in
sensation and in tra d itio n though dialectical dism em berm ent, as a con­
stellation o f Being.216

T h e “ shock” o f reco gn ition w ith w h ich the ju x ta p o s itio n s o f past

and present are perceived is like e le ctricity. (N ote th a t the shock­
like, fra g m e n ta ry fo rm o f unconscious perception in the m odern era
is n ot com pared re g re tfu lly to an o rg a n ic -tra d itio n a l to ta lity , b u t
m im icked , replicated at the level o f conscious percep tion .) Ben­
ja m in compares his ow n a c tiv ity in “ co n stru ctin g ” d ia le c tic a l im ­
ages to th a t o f an engineer,217 w ho “ blasts” things in the process o f
b u ild in g them . H e records th a t in a 1935 conversation w ith E rn s t
B loch about the Arcades pro je ct: “ I set fo rth how this p ro je c t— as
in the m ethod o f sm ashing an a tom — releases the enorm ous energy
o f h isto ry th a t lies b ound in the “ once upon a tim e ” o f classical
h is to ric a l n a rra tiv e .” 218
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7 Is This Philosophy?

C o g n itive explosiveness in a p o litic a l sense occurs, n o t when the

present is bom barded w ith “ a n a rch istica lly in te rm itte n t,” u to ­
p ia n “ n o w -tim e s” (H a be rm a s), b u t w hen the present as n ow -tim e
is bom barded w ith e m p irica l, profane fragm ents o f the recent
past.219 M oreo ver, the Passagen-Werk does not ignore h is to ry ’s
e m p iric a l “ developm ents.” These are im p o rta n t fo r c ritic a l k n o w l­
edge, even i f they are n ot themselves, im m e d ia te ly , tru th . A p ro ­
nounced th em atic goal o f the entries in Konvolut N is to trace the
h is to ry o f the idea o f progress fro m its o rig in a l E n lig h te n m e n t
m eaning as a critica l standard against w h ich h is to ry ’s actual course
was ju d g e d and found w a n tin g .220 B e n ja m in notes: “ T h e defam a­
tio n o f the c ritic a l s p irit begins im m e d ia te ly after the v ic to ry o f the
bourgeoisie in the J u ly [1830] R e v o lu tio n .” 221 T he nce fo rth,
bourgeois th inke rs w ho s till had reservations were “ placed on the
defensive.” 222 O ne a lte rn a tive was to a ffirm progress o n ly in the
lim ite d sense o f science, n o t society:

W ith T u rg o t [1844] the concept o f .progress s till had a c ritic a l function.

H e made it possible to tu rn people’s a ttention above all to the retrogres­
sive movements in history. S ignificantly enough, T u rg o t saw progress as
guaranteed first and foremost in the realm o f m athem atical research.223

A n o th e r a lte rn a tive was to ju d g e h isto rica l progress against the

c ritic a l theological standard o f red em ptio n. B e nja m in cites the
m etaphysician H e rm a n n L otze (1864), w ho refused to equate the
e vo lu tio n o f science o r hum an society w ith tru th :

“ Even when inspired by noble sentiments, it is nonetheless a thoughtless

and rash enthusiasm th a t dismisses the claims o f in d iv id u a l eras or in d i­
vid u a l men, ignoring a ll th e ir m isfortune, so long as m ankind in general
progresses. . . N o th in g can b e . . . progress th a t w ould not entail an in ­
crease o f happiness and perfection in the same souls who before suffered
an im perfect lo t.” 224

B e nja m in ’s “ U r-h isto ry o f the 19th C e n tu ry” is an attem pt to con­

s tru c t in n e r-h is to ric a l images th a t ju xta p o se the o rig in a l, u top ian
p o te n tia l o f the m odern (in w h ic h archaic, m y th ic elements have
found Tzonmythical, h isto rica l content) and its catastrophic and b a r­
b a ric present re a lity . I t relies on the shock o f these juxta p o se d im ­
ages to com pel re v o lu tio n a ry aw akening. Hence: “ I have n o th in g
to say, o n ly to show .” 225 A n d yet w hen B e n ja m in attem pted, as in
the firs t B a udelaire essay, to let the m ontage o f h is to ric a l facts
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Part I I I

speak fo r themselves, he ran the risk th a t readers could absorb

these shocks in the same d istra cted m anner, the same trancelike
dream consciousness in w h ic h they absorbed sensations w hen
w a lk in g on the crow ded c ity streets o r m o vin g th ro u g h aisles o f
d e p artm en t store m erchandise. T h e danger was th a t the lay reader
o f the Passagen-Werk w o u ld miss the p o in t, th a t it w o u ld be accessi­
ble o n ly to initia te s.
T h e Theses on H is to ry were n o t m eant fo r p u b lic a tio n as a sepa­
rate essay, lest they “ leave the d oo r w ide open fo r enthusiastic
m isu nd e rsta nd ing s.” 226 B u t they have a d id a c tic in te n t, p ro v id in g
in fact the in itia tio n th ro u g h w h ic h the Passagen-Werk reader m ust
pass. T h e firs t thesis is an a lle go rica l image. I t tells us th a t hid de n
w ith in the chess- p la y in g p u p p e t o f h isto rica l m a te ria lism , the
“ d w a rf” o f theology (a “ m aster chess p la ye r” ) is p u llin g the
strings. T heology “ today, as everyone knows, is sm all and u gly and
anyw ay, does n o t a llo w its e lf to be seen.” 227 B u t the theses th a t
fo llo w then p ro m p tly proceed to drag o u t the d w a rf and expose its
a ttrib u te s, lest we fa il to reca ll th a t a n y th in g was h id in g there at a ll.
T o rem em ber th a t theology anim ates h isto rica l m ate ria lism , b u t to
keep this know ledge in v is ib le because to ca ll it by name w o u ld
cause its tru th to va nish — th is is B e n ja m in ’s last w a rn in g . L e t us
respect it and, again, p u t the d w a rf o f theology o ut o f sight.
8___________________________________
Dream World of Mass Culture

T h e visib le theoretical a rm ature o f the Passagen-Werk is a secular,

sociopsycho log ical theory o f m o d e rn ity as a d re a m w o rld , and a
conception o f collective “ a w akening” fro m it as synonym ous w ith
re v o lu tio n a ry class consciousness. W e have already fre q u e n tly en­
countered these fo rm u la tio n s. In his co m m en ta ry in the Passagen-
Werk, B e n ja m in w ent q uite fa r in developing these ideas as he
struggled to pro vid e fo r h im s e lf a th eo re tica l base th a t w o u ld
s u pp ort, n on the o lo gica lly, the p ro je c t’s increa sing ly elaborate
c o nstructio n . H is a tte m p t was n ot e n tire ly successful. T h e theory
merges elements o f Surrealism and Proust, M a rx and F reud, w ith
those o f h is to ric a l generations and ch ild h o o d co gn itio n in a blend
th a t is bou nd together m ore by lite ra ry than log ical means. Y e t the
q u a lity o f h is to ric a l experience th a t B e n ja m in was try in g to capture
in this th eo re tica l m ontage is conveyed, and it is v ita l to his project.
M o re o ve r (and this ju stifie s, despite some re p e titio n , tre a tin g it
here syste m a tica lly), the theory is u niqu e in its approach to m odern
society, because it takes mass c u ltu re seriously n ot m erely as the
source o f the phantasm agoria o f false consciousness, b u t as the
source o f collectiye energy to p v e rc o m e jt.
Based on the w ritin g s o f M a x W e b e r,1 it has become a shibboleth
in social th e o ry th a t the essence o f m o d e rn ity is the d e m y th ific a tio n
and dise nch an tm en t o f the social w o rld . In contrast, and in keeping
w ith the S u rre alist vision, B e n ja m in ’s ce ntral argum ent in the
Passagen-Werk was th a t under co nd itio ns o f ca pita lism , ind us­
tria liz a tio n had b ro u g h t about a ^ e n c h a n tm e n t o f the social w o rld
254

P a rt I I I

8.1 G iovanni Battista Piranesi, A n tic h ita romane I I , eighteenth century.

(figures 8 .12 and 8.2), and th ro u g h it, a “ re a c tiv a tio n o f m y th ic

pow ers.” 3 W e b e r’s thesis was based on the triu m p h o f abstract,
fo rm a l reason in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries as the
o rg a n izin g p rin c ip le o f structures o f p ro d u ctio n , m arkets, state
bureaucracies, and c u ltu ra l form s such as m usic and law . B e n ja m in
w o u ld n ot have challenged these observations. B u t i f social and
c u ltu ra l in s titu tio n s had become ra tio n a lize d in fo rm , this process
allow ed content to be delivered up to ve ry different forces.4 U n d e r­
neath the surface o f increasing system ic ra tio n a liz a tio n , on an
unconscious “ d re a m ” level, the new u rb a n -in d u s tria l w o rld had
become fu lly reenchanted. In the m odern city, as in the ur-forests
o f a nother era, the “ th re a te n in g and a llu rin g face” 5 o f m y th was
alive and everywhere. I t peered o u t o f w a ll posters a d ve rtisin g
“ toothpaste fo r g ia n ts,” 6 and w hispered its presence in the m ost
ra tio n a lize d u rb a n plans th a t, “ w ith th e ir u n ifo rm streets and end­
less rows o f b uild in g s, have realized the dream ed- o f a rch ite ctu re
o f the ancients: the la b y rin th .” 7 I t appeared, p ro to ty p ic a lly , in
the arcades, where “ the com m odities are suspended and shoved
together in such boundless confusion, th a t [th e y appear] like
images o u t o f the m ost inco he ren t dream s.” 8
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8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

8.2 B u ilding signs, Germany, twentieth century.

In the early nineteenth ce ntu ry, G erm an R om antics, in protest

against E n lig h te n m e n t ra tio n a lity , had called fo r a re b irth o f
m y th o lo g y, and w h a t Schelling term ed a new, “ universal sym bo l­
ism , ” based on the “ things o f n a tu re ,” w h ich “ both signify and
a re.” 9 B y the tw e n tie th century, B e n ja m in was saying, the “ new
n a tu re ” o f in d u s tria l cu ltu re had generated a ll the m y th ic pow er fo r
a “ u niversa l sym b o lism ” th a t these R om antics m ig h t have desired.
B u t R om an ticism had falsely assumed th a t a rt w o u ld be the source
o f a regeneration o f m ytho log y, ra th e r th an the c re a tiv ity o f indus-
tria lis m , w h ich was large ly anonym ous, and increasingly tied to
technical skills. W hereas, fo r exam ple, W a g ne r in the late R om an-
tic era had envisioned in d iv id u a l a rtis tic genius as fa b ric a tin g a
to ta liz in g m y th ic w o rld th ro u g h a r t,10 the producers o f the m odern
“ co lle ctive ” im a g in a tio n were, as the Passagen-Werk expose em pha­
sizes, photographers, g ra ph ic artists, in d u s tria l designers, and
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Part I I I

engineers— and those artists and architects w ho learned fro m

them .
“ M y th ic forces” are present in abundance in the new in d u s tria l
technology— indeed, “ the gods are p a r tia l” to the tra n s itio n a l
space o f aw akening in w h ic h we now liv e .” 11 B e n ja m in is h e ir
enough to the R o m a n tic tra d itio n to fin d the pervasive presence o f
the gods an auspicious sign. I t augurs social change. Such powers
can be affirm ed i f they are held free o f the re ify in g constraints o f
m y th o lo g ica l system atization. T o speak o f “ gods” is to represent in
h u m a n language the awesome, n o t-ye t-kn o w n powers o f technolo­
gy. B u t m y th ic sym bols are necessarily as tra n s ito ry as the
changing h isto rica l m om en t in w h ich they are generated. Hence:
“ T h is p e rvad ing o f space by the gods is to be understood as a lig h t­
n in g fla sh ” :

Neoclassicism’s fundamental lack is that it builds for the gods just passing
through an architecture that disavows the essential terms o f their estab­
lishing contact. (A bad, reactionary architecture.)12

N o t the presence o f the gods is to be deplored, n o t th e ir re tu rn to

w a lk the earth, b u t the a tte m p t to b u ild them a p erm anent home.
T h e R om antics w anted to ro o t th e ir “ new m y th o lo g y ” in p re in ­
d u s tria l, tra d itio n a l cu ltu re . B e n ja m in rejected to ta lly the social
conservatism th a t by his ow n era volkish theories had assum ed.13
T h e Surrealists also spoke o f a new m y th o lo g y 14— and got the m a t­
te r s tra ig h t. R athe r than lo o k in g to fo lk cu ltu re fo r in s p ira tio n or,
as w ith neoclassicism, ta ckin g the sym bols o f ancient m yths onto
present form s, they view ed the co n sta n tly changing new n a tu re o f
the u rb a n -in d u s tria l landscape as its e lf m arvelous and m y th ic .
T h e ir muses, as tra n s ito ry as sp rin g fashions, were stars o f the stage
and screen, b illb o a rd advertisem ents, and illu s tra te d magazines.
B e n ja m in names the “ muses o f S u rre a lism ” : “ L u n a , C leo de
M erod e, K a te G reenaw ay, M o rs , F rie de rike K e m p n e r, B a by
C ad um , H ed da G abler, L ib id o , A n g e lika K a u ffm a n n , the Countess
G e schw itz.” 15 In L o u is A ra g o n ’s Le paysan de Paris, to w h ich B en­
ja m in s till referred in 1934 as “ the best book about P aris,” 16 the
n a rra to r, the “ peasant” o f Paris, w anders, in to xic a te d , in the com ­
pany o f these muses th ro u g h the new, n a tu ra l landscape o f com ­
m o d ity fetishes, as his a g ra ria n co u n te rp a rt o f a d ifferen t era m ig h t
have w andered th ro u g h an enchanted forest. T h e E iffel T o w e r
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8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

appears to h im as a giraffe; Sacre C oeur is an icth yo sa u ru s.17 Gas

tanks rise up at fillin g stations, sh im m e rin g w ith the aura o f
d iv in itie s :

They are the great red gods, the great yellow gods, the great green gods
[. . .]. H ardly ever have human beings submitted themselves to so bar­
barous a view o f destiny and force. Anonymous sculptors [. . . ] have con­
structed these metallic phantoms [. . .]. These idols bear a family re­
semblance, which renders them awesome. Decorated w ith English words
and other words newly created, w ith one long and supple arm, a lum i­
nous, featureless head, a single foot, and a belly stamped with numbers—
at times these gasoline dispensers have the allure o f Egyptian gods, or
those o f cannibal tribes who worship nothing but war. O Texaco motor
oil, Esso, Shell! Noble inscriptions o f human potential! Soon we w ill cross
ourselves before your founts, and the youngest among us w ill perish for
having viewed their nymphs in the naphtha.18

D e b u n k in g irreverence to w ard tra d itio n a l c u ltu ra l values was fu n ­

d am en ta l to S u rrre a list h um or. D a u m ie r and G ra n d v ille were p re ­
cursors o f this c ritic a l m ethod, w h ich has become ch aracte ristic o f
m odern se n sitivity generally. W h e th e r the m ost u p-to-date b a n a li­
ties o f d a ily life are infused w ith the aura o f the ancients (figure 8.3)
o r w he th er the ancients are themselves b ro u g h t u p-to-d ate (figures
8.4 and 8.5), the resu lt is to b rin g m y th , concrete nature, and his­
to ry together in such a w ay th a t m y th ’s cla im to express transcen­
dent, eternal tru th is u n d e rm in e d — as is the logic th a t leads from
th is cla im to conservative o r rea ctio n a ry p o litics . B e nja m in notes:
“ H u m a n k in d is to d ep art reconciled from its past— and one fo rm o f
being reconciled is g a ie ty.” 19 H e then cites M a rx :

“ H istory is radical, and passes through many phases when it carries an

old form to the grave. The last phase o f a world historical form is as
comedy [.Kombdie]. The gods o f Greece who had already been tragically
wounded in Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound, had to die again comically in
the dialogues o f Lucien. W hy this course o f history? So that humanity
parts from its past gaily.” 20

B e n ja m in com m ents: “ S urrealism is the death o f the last ce ntu ry

th ro u g h farce.” 21
B u t there is m ore to S u rre alism ’s new m yth o lo g y than the shock
o f h u m o r. I f the m od ernist sentim ent trivia lize s th a t w h ic h is con­
v e n tio n a lly honored, the reverse is true as w ell: T h e triv ia l becomes
the object o f reverence. F o r A ra g o n ’s peasant, the m ira culou s
258
Part I I I

8.3 M o dern ity its e lf as ancient: N ils Ole Lu nd, “ Classicism,” 1984.
8.4 an d 8.5 B ringing the ancients up to date: H erbert Bayer, 1930.

emanates from the m ost m undane phenom ena: a fu rrie r shop, a

h ig h hat, an electroscope w ith gold leaves, a h airdresser’s d is p la y .22
F a r fro m escaping in to old form s, S u rre alist perception apprehends
d ire c tly the “ m eta ph ysical” essence23 o f the new form s, w h ich is
n ot above h isto ry b u t w ith in it:

I began to realize that the reign [o f these new objects] was predicated on
th e ir novelty, and that upon th e ir future shone a m o rta l star. T hey re­
vealed themselves to me, then, as tra n sito ry tyrants, as the agents o f fate
in some way attached to my sensibility. I t dawned on me fin a lly that I
possessed the intoxica tion o f the m odern.24

W h a t distinguishes the gods o f this m odern m yth o lo g y is th e ir sus­

c e p tib ility to tim e. T h e y belong to the profane, noneternal w o rld o f
h u m a n h isto ry, in w h ich th e ir powers are fleeting. In short, these
gods can die. Indeed, transitoriness is the very basis o f th e ir pow er,
as A ra go n recognized:

I t became clear to me that hum ankind is fu ll o f gods, like a sponge im ­

mersed in the open sky. These gods live, attain the apogee o f th e ir power,
then die, leaving to other gods th e ir perfumed altars. They are the very
260

Part I I I

principles of any total transformation. They are the necessity of move­

ment. I was, then, strolling w ith intoxication among thousands o f divine
concretions. I began to conceive a mythology in motion. I t righdy merited
the name of modern mythology. I imagined it by this name.25

I f A ra g o n sees the m odern w o rld as m y th ic , he does n o t o rd e r this

v isio n in to a m yth o lo g ica l system th a t w o u ld e xplain (and hence
le g itim a te ) the g iven.26 R athe r, A ra g o n is reco rd ing a fact th a t the
th eo ry o f in s tru m e n ta l ra tio n a lity represses: M o d e rn re a lity in this
s till-p rim itiv e stage o f in d u s tria lis m is m y th ic ,27 and to b rin g this to
consciousness in no w ay elim inates the p o s s ib ility o f a c ritiq u e , fo r
w h ic h , indeed, i t is the p re re qu isite. A ra g o n h im s e lf suggests such a
c ritiq u e . H e acknowledges th a t the new gas ta nk gods came in to
being because hum ans “ delegated” th e ir “ a c tiv ity to m achines,”
tra n sfe rrin g to them the “ fa c u lty o f th o u g h t” : “ T h e y do th in k ,
these m achines. In the e vo lu tio n o f this th in k in g they have surpas­
sed th e ir a n ticip a te d use.” 28 T h e y w o rk w ith such speed th a t they
“ a lie na te ” people from “ th e ir own slow selves,” engendering in
th em a “ p a n icky te rro r” o f m echanical fate: “ T he re is a m od ern
fo rm o f tragedy: I t is a k in d o f great steering m echanism th a t tu rn s,
b u t no hand is at the w he el.” 29

B e n ja m in ’s enthusiastic response to A ra g o n d id n o t p revent h im

fro m recognizing, fro m the sta rt, the dangers o f S urrealism as a
m odel fo r his ow n w ork. Surrealists in te n tio n a lly p u t themselves in
a dream state o f m in d in o rd e r to record the images o f w h a t m odern
re a lity had become. T h e y revelled in this dream experience, w h ic h ,
fo r a ll th e ir p u b lic d isp lay o f it, belonged to an in d iv id u a l, p riv a te
w o rld , w herein action had a n a rch istic p o litic a l im p lic a tio n s . Ben­
ja m in ’s insistence th a t the dream was “ a collective phenom enon” 30
contrasted s ig n ific a n tly w ith th e ir conception. T h is “ d re a m in g
co lle ctive ” 31 was, a d m itte d ly , “ unconscious” in a double sense, on
the one hand, because o f its d istra cted d ream ing state, and on the
other, because i t was unconscious o f itself, composed o f atom ized
in d iv id u a ls , consumers w ho im agined th e ir co m m o d ity d re a m ­
w o rld to be u n iq u e ly personal (despite a ll objective evidence to the
c o n tra ry ), and w ho experienced th e ir m em bership in the c o lle c tiv ­
ity o n ly in an isolated, a lie n a tin g sense, as an anonym ous com po­
n ent o f the cro w d .32
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8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

H ere was a fund am e nta l co n tra d ic tio n o f c a p ita lis t-in d u s tria l
c u ltu re . A m ode o f p ro d u ctio n th a t p rivile g e d p riv a te life and based
its conception o f the subject on the isolated in d iv id u a l had created
b ra n d new form s o f social existence— u rb a n spaces, a rc h ite c tu ra l
form s, m ass-produced com m odities, and in fin ite ly reproduced
“ in d iv id u a l” experiences— th a t engendered ide ntitie s and con­
fo rm itie s in people’ s lives, b u t n o t social s o lid a rity , no new level o f
collective consciousness o f th e ir co m m o n a lity and thus no w ay o f
w a k in g up from the dream in w h ich they were enveloped.33 A ragon
u n w ittin g ly expressed this co n tra d ic tio n w hen he represented
the new m y th ic experiences as in d iv id u a l even w hen they were
sparked by com m on objects; his w ritin g reflected the illu s o ry ex­
perience o f mass existence rather than transcending it.34 Benjam in’s
goal was n o t to represent the dream , b u t to dispel it: D ia le c tic a l
images were to d ra w dream images in to an awakened state, and
aw akening was synonym ous w ith h isto rica l knowledge:

In the dialectical image, the past o f a particular epoch [. . . ] appears

before the eyes of [ . . . a particular, present epoch] in which humanity,
rubbing its eyes, recognizes precisely this dream as a dream. I t is in this
moment that the historian takes upon himself the task o f dream
interpretation.35

Surrealists became “ stuck in the realm o f dream s.” 36 B e n ja m in ’s

in te n t, “ in o pp osition to A ra g o n ,” was “ n ot to le t oneself be lu lle d
sleepily w ith in the ‘d re a m ’ o r ‘m y th o lo g y ,’ ” b u t “ to penetrate a ll
this by the dialectic o f awakening.” 37 Such awakening began where
the Surrealists and o the r avant-garde a rtists too often stopped
short, because in rejectin g c u ltu ra l tra d itio n they closed th e ir eyes
to h is to ry as w ell. A g ain st the “ m y th o lo g y ” o f A ragon, the
Passagen-Werk “ is concerned w ith d issolving m y th o lo g y in to the
space o f h is to ry .” 38
I t was cru cia l fo r B e n ja m in ’s conception th a t this “ space o f h is­
to ry ” referred n o t o nly to the previous century, b u t to the ontogene­
tic, “ n a tu ra l” h is to ry o f ch ild h o o d — sp ecifically, the child ho od o f
his ow n generation, born at the ce n tu ry ’s close.

W hat are the noises o f the waking morning that we draw into our dreams?
The “ ugliness” [o f nineteenth-century kitsch], the “ out-of-date” [phe­
nomena of that w orld], are only dissembled morning voices which speak
from our childhood.39
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Part I I I

B e n ja m in ’s th eo ry o f the d re a m in g collective as the source o f pres­

ent re v o lu tio n a ry energy requires an u n d ersta nd in g o f the s ig n ifi­
cance o f ch ild ho od generally fo r his th e o ry o f co gn itio n, a d e to u r
th a t w ill re tu rn us to S urrealism w ith a clearer awareness o f w h a t
B e n ja m in saw as this in te lle c tu a l m ove m e nt’s p o litic a l p o te n tia l.

[The Passagen-Werk] has to do w ith [. . .] achieving the most extreme

concreteness for an epoch, as appears now and again in children’s games,
in a building, a life situation.40

Game in which children construct out o f given words a very short sen­
tence. This game appears to have been made to order for goods on dis­
play. Binoculars and flower seeds, wood screws and banknotes, makeup
and stuffed otters, furs and revolvers.41

C h ild re n , w ro te B e nja m in , are less in trig u e d by the preform ed

w o rld th a t adults have created th a n by its waste products. T h e y are
d ra w n to the a p p a re n tly valueless, intentionless things: “ In using
these things they do n ot so m uch im ita te the w orks o f adu lts as
b rin g together, in the a rtifa cts produced in p la y, m aterials o f w id e ly
d iffe rin g kinds in a new in tu itiv e re la tio n s h ip .” 42 B e n ja m in ’s co gn i­
tiv e approach to the discarded, overlooked phenom ena o f the
n in eteenth century was n o t different. N o m odern th in k e r, w ith the
exception o f Jean Piaget, took c h ild re n as seriously as d id B e n ja m in
in developing a th eo ry o f co g n itio n . N in e te e n th -c e n tu ry c h ild re n ’s
books were one o f the m ost valued parts o f his one passionately held
possession: his book co lle ctio n .43 H e confessed th a t there were n o t
m an y things “ in the realm o f the book to w h ich I have a s im ila rly
close re la tio n s h ip .” 44 Scholem attested to the significance o f c h il­
dren fo r B e n ja m in and p oin te d o u t th a t he took seriously the co gn i­
tive process o f rem em bering his ow n ch ild ho od .

I t is one o f Benjamin’s most im portant characteristics that throughout

his life he was attracted w ith almost magical force by the child’s world and
ways. This world was one of the persistent and recurring themes o f his
reflections, and indeed, his w ritings on this subject are among his most
perfect pieces.45
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8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

B e n ja m in found c h ild re n ’s pla y w ith w ords “ m ore akin to the la n ­

guage o f sacred texts than to the c o llo q u ia l language o f g ro w n ­
u ps.” 46 H e used to say o f the n o to rio u sly d iffic u lt p h iloso ph ical
in tro d u ctio n to his Trauerspiel study th a t it had as the “ secret m otto ”
fo r e n try in to the text, the nursery rhym e in ju n c tio n : “ H u rtle over
ro o t and stone, [b e jw a re the bou ld er, break no bone.” 47 Im a g e ry o f
the c h ild ’s w o rld appears so persisten tly th ro u g h o u t B e n ja m in ’s
opus th a t the om ission o f a serious discussion o f its theoretical
significance in p ra c tic a lly a ll com m entaries on B e nja m in is
rem arkab le — a sym ptom , perhaps, o f precisely the repression o f
c h ild h o o d and its co gnitive modes w h ich he considered a problem
o f the u tm o st p o litic a l significance.
Piaget and B e nja m in agreed th a t c h ild re n ’s co gnition was a
developm ental stage so co m pletely overcom e th a t to the a d u lt it
appeared alm ost ine xplicab le. Piaget was content enough to see
ch ild h o o d th in k in g disappear. T h e values in his epistem ology were
tip pe d to w a rd the a d u lt end o f the spectrum . H is th in k in g reflected,
on the axis o f ontogenetic developm ent, th a t assum ption o f h istory-
as-progress w h ich B e nja m in considered the tra d e m a rk o f bourgeois
false consciousness. P re dicta bly, B e n ja m in ’s ow n interest was not
in the sequential developm ent o f stages o f abstract, fo rm a l reason,
b u t in w h a t was lost along the w ay. Scholem w ro te th a t he was
fascinated by “ [ . . . ] the as yet u nd istorte d w o rld o f the c h ild and
its creative im a g in a tio n , w h ich [as m eta ph ysician ] he describes
w ith reverent w on de r and at the same tim e seeks conceptually to
pen etra te.” 48
W h a t B e n ja m in found in the c h ild ’s consciousness, badgered o u t
o f existence by bourgeois education and so cru cia l to redeem (a lb e it
in new fo rm ), was precisely the unsevered connection between
p erception and action th a t d istin gu ishe d re v o lu tio n a ry conscious­
ness in a dults. T h is connection was n o t causal in the beh aviorist
sense o f a stim ulus-response reaction. Instead i t was an active,
creative fo rm o f m im esis, in v o lv in g the a b ility to make correspon­
dences by means o f spontaneous fantasy.

[The child’s bureau] drawers must become arsenal and zoo, crime
museum and crypt. “ To tidy up” would be to demolish an edifice full o f
prickly chestnuts that are spiky dubs, tin foil that is hoarded silver, bricks
that are coffins, cacti that are totem poles, and copper pennies that are
shields.49
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T h e re v o lu tio n a ry “ sig n a l” th a t proceeds “ o u t o f the w o rld in

w h ic h the c h ild lives and gives com m ands” 50 is the capacity fo r
in ve n tive reception based on m im e tic im p ro v is a tio n . Perception
and active tra n sfo rm a tio n are the tw o poles o f c h ild re n ’s co gn itio n:
“ E very c h ild ’s gesture is a creative im pulse w h ich corresponds
exactly to the receptive one.” 51
Piaget’s experim ents tested fo r the u niversal and p re dicta ble re­
sponse, p riv ile g in g precisely th a t a b stra ct-fo rm a l ra tio n a lity w h ic h
W e b er argued was the h a llm a rk o f m odern reason.52 B e n ja m in was
interested in the creative sp on tan e ity o f response th a t bourgeois
so cialization destroyed. P iaget’s th eo ry treated cogn itio n tied to ac­
tio n o n ly as the m ost p rim itiv e cogn itive fo rm (— in the preverbal,
sensory-m otor p e rio d — ), and ignored m im e tic co gn itio n once the
c h ild acquired language. In P iaget’s tests, the c h ild ’s fa ntastic p la y,
the co n stitu tio n o f m erely possible w o rld s, was lik e ly to be reg­
istered as co gn itive error. F o r B e n ja m in , in contrast, the p rim o rd ia l
n a tu re o f m o to r reactions was a reason to pay a tte n tio n to them .
Evidence o f the “ m im e tic fa c u lty ,” they were the source o f a
language o f gestures w h ich B e n ja m in considered m ore basic to
co gn itio n than conceptual language.53 B e n ja m in ’s idea o f an
“ e xp e rim e n t” was to w atch c h ild re n ’s gestures in p a in tin g , dance,
and p a rtic u la rly theater, w h ic h allow ed an “ untam ed release o f
c h ild re n ’s fa ntasy.” 54 In c h ild re n ’s d ra m a tic perform ances:

Everything is turned upside down, and ju st as master served slave during

the Roman Saturnalia, so during the performance, children stand on stage
and teach and educate their attentive educators. New forces and new im ­
pulses appear [. . . ] .55

C h ild re n ’s co gn itio n had re v o lu tio n a ry pow er because it was tac­

tile , and hence tied to action, and because ra th e r than accepting the
given m eaning o f things, ch ild re n got to kn ow objects by la y in g
hold o f them and using them creatively, releasing fro m them new
possibilities o f m eaning. Paul V a le ry (w ith whose w orks B e n ja m in
was ve ry fa m ilia r) has w ritte n :

I f they’re fit and well, all children are absolute monsters o f activity [. . . ]
tearing up, breaking up, building, they’re always at it! And they’ll cry i f
they can’t think o f anything better to do [ . . .]. You might say they’re
only conscious o f all the things around them insofar as they can act on
them, or through them, in no matter what way: the action, in fact, is all
[ . . . ] . 56
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Bourgeois so cia liza tion suppressed this a c tiv ity : P a rro tin g back the
“ c o rre ct” answer, lo o kin g w ith o u t to uch ing , solving problem s “ in
the head,” s ittin g passively, le a rn in g to do w ith o u t o p tic a l cues57—
these a cquired behaviors w ent against the c h ild ’s g ra in . I t m ig h t
fo llo w , m oreover, th a t the triu m p h o f such co g n itio n in adults at
the same tim e signaled th e ir defeat as re v o lu tio n a ry subjects.58
B u t, so lon g as there were ch ild re n , this defeat w o u ld never be
com plete. T h u s B e nja m in avoided the pessim istic conclusion to
w h ic h A d o rn o was led when he described the “ e x tin c tio n o f the
ego” as the tra g ic result o f h is to ry ’s “ progress.” 59 B e n ja m in ’s
th eo ry acknowledged th a t the re la tio n sh ip between consciousness
and society on a h isto rica l level was interspersed w ith another
dim ension, the level o f ch ild ho od developm ent, in w h ic h the rela­
tio n sh ip between consciousness and re a lity had its own h istory. In
c h ild re n , the capacity fo r re vo lu tio n a ry tra n sfo rm a tio n was present
fro m the sta rt. Hence, a ll ch ild re n were “ representatives o f
Paradise.” 60 S trip pe d o f its m etaphysical pretensions, h isto ry was
the h a vin g o f c h ild re n ,61 and as such, it was always a re tu rn to
beginnings. H ere revo lu tio ns appeared, n o t as the c u lm in a tio n o f
w o rld h isto ry, b u t as a fresh sta rt: “ T h e in s ta n t one a rriv e s ,” Ben­
ja m in n ot a ccid e n ta lly w ro te o f his v is it to M oscow , “ the child ho od
stage begins,” w hen, because o f the icy streets, even “ w a lk in g has
to be relea rne d.” 62

B e n ja m in ’ s a p p re ciatio n o f child ho od co g n itio n d id not im p ly the

ro m a n tic iz in g o f ch ild ho od innocence.63 O n the c o n tra ry , he be­
lieved th a t o n ly people w ho were allow ed to live o u t th e ir ch ildhood
re a lly grew u p 64— and g ro w in g up was clea rly the desired goal
(figure 8.665). B e nja m in was fu lly aware o f the lim ita tio n s o f the
consciousness o f the ch ild , w ho “ lives in its w o rld as a d ic ta to r.” 66
T h u s education was necessary, b u t it was a recipro cal process: “ Is
n o t education above a ll the indispensable o rd e rin g o f the relatio n
between generations and therefore m astery, i f we are to use this
te rm , o f th a t re la tio n sh ip and n ot o f ch ild re n? ” 67
In regard specifically to the m im e tic capacity, a dults w ho
observed c h ild re n ’s b ehavior learned to rediscover a p reviously
possessed m ode o f co gn itio n, th a t had d eteriorated both phylogene-
tic a lly and o ntogenetically. A very b rie f piece, “ O n the M im e tic
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Part I I I

F a c u lty ,” w ritte n by B e n ja m in in 1933 and valued by h im h ig h ly

as a new, m a te ria lis t fo rm u la tio n o f his theory o f language,68
addresses this p o in t precisely:

Nature produces similarities. One has only to think o f m im icry [of, e.g.,
insects to leaves]. But the highest talent in producing similarities belongs
to human beings. The gift o f seeing similarities that they possess is merely
a rudiment o f the formerly powerful drive to make oneself similar, to act
mimetically. Perhaps there is not one o f the higher human functions that
is not decisively determined, at least in part, by the mimetic capacity.
This capacity, however, has a history, and indeed in a phylogenetic as
well as an ontogenetic sense. For the latter, play is in many regards the
schooling. C hildren’s play is permeated everywhere by mimetic forms o f
behavior; and its realm is in no way lim ited to what one person can m im ic
about another. The child not only plays shopkeeper or teacher but also
w indm ill and railroad train.69

M im e tic cogn itive skills have not been an a nth ro p o lo g ica l constant:

One needs to consider that neither the mimetic powers, nor the mimetic
objects and their themes have remained the same in the course o f the
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centuries. Rather, we must suppose that the gift o f producing

similarities— for example, in dances, of which mimesis was the oldest
function— and thus also the gift of recognizing them, have changed with
changing history.70

T h e oldest co gnitive apparatuses o f “ m agical correspondences and

analogies” were clearly based on this s k ill.71 Indeed, as the practice
w hereby the expressive elem ent in objects was b ro u g h t to speech,
h um an language was its e lf m im e tic and m agical in o rig in .72 Ben­
ja m in speculates th a t astrology, the ancient science o f “ re a d in g ”
s im ila ritie s between the cosmos and the hum an being at the m o ­
m en t o f b irth , m arked a change in the d ire ctio n o f m im e tic powers
to w a rd “ nonsensual s im ila ritie s .” 73 T h e la tte r were also the source
o f w ritte n s c rip t.74 B e n ja m in suggests th a t w h a t appears in the
“ s ig n w o rld (M erkw elt) o f m odern m a n ” to be the “ decay o f this
c a p a city” o f m im esis, m ay be, ra th e r, a new stage in “ its
tra n s fo rm a tio n .” 75 H e holds open the p o s s ib ility o f a fu tu re de­
velo pm e nt o f m im e tic expression, the p o te n tia litie s fo r w h ic h are
fa r fro m exhausted. N o r are they lim ite d to verbal language76— as
the new technologies o f cam era and film clearly dem onstrate.
These technologies p ro vid e hum an beings w ith unprecedented per­
ceptual a cu ity, o u t o f w h ich , B e nja m in believed, a less m agical,
m ore scien tific fo rm o f the m im e tic fa c u lty was developing in his
ow n era. H e noted in the A rtw o rk essay th a t the cam era arrests the
flo w o f p erception and captures the m ost subtle p hysical gestures.
“ T h ro u g h i t we firs t experience an o p tica l unconscious, as in
psychoanalysis we firs t experience the in s tin c tu a l unconscious.” 77
F ilm provides a new schooling fo r o u r m im e tic powers: “ W ith in the
enlargem ent, space is stretched out; w ith in slow m o tio n , m ovem ent
expands,” revealing “ e n tire ly new s tru c tu ra l form ations o f
m a tte r” :

Thus it becomes clear that a different nature speaks to the camera than to
the naked eye— different above all in this, that in place o f space inter­
woven w ith the consciousness o f human beings, one is presented w ith a
space unconsciously interwoven.78

N o w fo r the firs t tim e an analysis o f this “ unconsciously in te r­

w ove n ” space is possible. T h e film cam eram an, like a surgeon,
“ o p e ra tive ly penetrates in to ” the m a te ria l,79 subjecting the a c to r’s
perform ance “ to a series o f o p tica l tests.” 80 M oreo ver, and o f p o lit-
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Part I I I

ical im p orta nce , the w o rld th a t opens up to the cam era provides
know ledge relevant to a ctin g in it:

Through closeups o f what it inventories, through accentuating the hidden

details o f props that for us are fam iliar objects, through exploration o f
banal milieus under the genial guide o f the lens, film on the one hand
increases our insight into the necessities that rule our lives, and on the
other hand ensures for us an immense and unexpected field o f action.81

I t is in this w ay th a t technological reproduction gives back to

h u m a n ity th a t ca pacity fo r experience w h ich technological produc­
tion threatens to take away. I f in d u s tria liz a tio n has caused a crisis
in perception due to the speeding up o f tim e and the fra g m e n ta tio n
o f space, film shows a h ea lin g p o te n tia l by slow ing d ow n tim e
and, th ro u g h m ontage, co n stru ctin g “ syn th e tic re a litie s ” 82 as new
sp a tio -te m p o ra l orders w he re in the “ fragm ented im ages” are
b ro u g h t together “ a ccording to a new la w .” 83 B oth the assem bly
lin e and the u rb a n crow d b o m b a rd the senses w ith disconnected
images and shocklike stim ulae. In a state o f constant d is tra c tio n ,
the consciousness o f the collective acts like a shock absorber, reg­
iste ring sense im pressions w ith o u t re a lly experiencing them :
Shocks are “ intercepted, p a rrie d by consciousness,” 84 in o rd e r to
p revent a tra u m a tic effect. F ilm provides the audience w ith a new
capacity to stu dy this m odern existence refle ctively, fro m “ the posi­
tio n o f a e xp e rt.” 85 T h e p rin te d w o rd shows its e lf m ore v u ln e ra b le
in contrast (figu re 8.7): “ P rin tin g , h a vin g found in the book a re­
fuge in w h ic h to lead an autonom ous existence, is p itile s s ly dragged
o u t onto the street by advertisem ents [ . . . th a t] force the p rin te d
w o rd e n tire ly in to the d ic ta to ria l p e rp e n d ic u la r.” 86
C h ild re n in s tin c tiv e ly m im ic objects as a means o f m astering
th e ir e xpe rie ntia l w o rld . P sychoanalytic theory tells us th a t the
n e u ro tic sym ptom , s im ila rly , im ita te s a tra u m a tic event in an (u n ­
successful) a tte m p t at psychic defense. B e n ja m in was suggesting
th a t the new m im e tic techniques could in s tru c t the co llective to
em ploy this ca pacity effectively, n o t o n ly as a defense against the
tra u m a o f in d u s tria liz a tio n , b u t as a means o f re c o n stru ctin g the
capacity fo r experience th a t had been shattered by the process. T h e
products o f cu ltu re already showed signs o f the developm ent o f this
counterforce. B e n ja m in speculated:
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8.7 London Street A dvertising, early tw entieth century.

Perhaps the daily sight o f a moving crowd once presented the eye w ith a
spectacle to which it first had to adapt. [. . . T]hen the assumption is not
impossible that, having mastered this task, the eye welcomed opportuni­
ties to confirm its possession o f its new ability. The method o f impression­
ist painting, whereby the picture is assembled through a rio t o f flecks o f
color, would then be a reflection o f experience w ith which the eye o f a big-
city dweller has become fam iliar.87

I t is n o t s u rp risin g th a t B e n ja m in praised C h a rlie C h a p lin ’s film

perform ances on the same grounds. C h a p lin rescued the capacity
fo r experience by m im ic k in g the fra g m e n ta tio n th a t threatened it.

W hat is new in C haplin’s gestures: He breaks apart human motions o f

expression into a series o f the smallest innervations. Every single one o f his
movements is put together from a series o f hacked-up pieces o f motion.
Whether one focuses on his walk, on the way [he] handles his cane, or tips
his hat— it is always the same jerky sequence o f the smallest motions
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Part I I I

which raises the law o f the film ic sequence o f images to that of human
motor actions.88

T o recreate the new re a lity o f technology m im e tic a lly (— to b rin g

to hum an speech its expressive p o te n tia l— ) is n ot to s u b m it to its
given form s, b u t to a n ticip a te the h um an re a p p ro p ria tio n o f its
power. M oreo ver, and this is the p o litic a l p o in t, such practice re­
establishes the connection between im a g in a tio n and p hysical
in n e rva tio n th a t in bourgeois cu ltu re has been snapped a part. C og­
n itiv e reception is no longer co nte m p lative b u t tied to action. J u s t
this refusal to separate body and m in d w ith in co gnitive experience
characterizes A ra g o n ’s im a g istic representation in Le paysan de
Paris. J u s t this insistence th a t a ction is the sister o f the dre am
is w h a t B e nja m in found irre s is tib ly co m p elling in S u rre a lism ’s
p o litic a l stance. P o litic a l space can 4‘no longer be gauged by
co n te m p la tio n ” :

I f it is the dual task o f the revolutionary intelligentsia both to overthrow

the predominence o f the bourgeoisie and to gain contact w ith the proleta­
rian masses, then it has fully misfired in regard to the second part o f this
task, because the latter is no longer to be accomplished contemplatively.89

R ather, the in te lle c tu a l m ust place h im - [o r h e r-] self, “ even at

the cost o f his [her], ow n creative d evelopm ent,” in the “ im p o r­
ta n t p o in ts ” o f an “ im a g e -re a lm ” in o rd er to set this rea lm “ in to
m o tio n ” :

For it is no use; the admission is overdue: The metaphysical materialism

[ . . . o f M arxist orthodoxy] observed by someone like Vogt or Bukharin
does not transfer smoothly into anthropological materialism, as the
experience o f the Surrealists substantiates— and before them o f Hebei,
Georg Buchner, Nietzsche, or Rimbaud. There is something left over. The
collective is also corporeal. And the technological nature which w ill orga­
nize in its behalf, because it is totally real, politically and m aterially, can
only be produced in that image realm to which we have been acclimatized
by profane illum ination. O nly w ithin it, when body and image realm so
interpenetrate that all revolutionary tension becomes bodily, collective in ­
nervation, and all the bodily innervations o f the collective become revolu­
tionary discharge, has reality surpassed itself to the extent demanded by
the Communist Manifesto. For the moment, only the Surrealists have under­
stood the commands that now emanate from that realm. A ll o f them bar­
ter away their own facial expressions in exchange for the clockface o f an
alarm that in every minute rings for sixty seconds.90
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8 Dream World of Mass Culture

8.8 “ T ra m p in M arseilles,” photograph by Brassai, 1930s.

W e have said th a t the Arcades p ro je ct was o rig in a lly conceived as a

“ d ia le ctica l fa iry scene” (dialektische Feen)?x so th a t the Passagen-
Werk becomes a M a rx ia n re te llin g o f the story o f Sleeping Beauty,
w h ic h was concerned w ith “ w a kin g u p ” (as the “ best exam ple o f a
dia le ctica l o v e rtu rn in g ” 92) fro m the collective dream o f the com ­
m o d ity p hantasm agoria (figure 8.8). W e m ay note the key passage
from Konvolut K w h ich locates the source o f the d re a m w o rld th a t
m odern re a lity had become: “ C a p ita lis m was a n a tu ra l phe­
nom enon w ith w h ich a new dream sleep fe ll over Europe and w ith
it, a re a ctiva tio n o f m y th ic pow ers.” 93 T h e arcades, as “ houses
w ith o u t e xteriors,” were themselves “ ju s t like dream s.” 94 Indeed:
“ A ll collective a rch ite ctu re o f the nineteenth ce n tu ry provides
housing fo r the d re a m in g colle ctive ” 93: “ arcades, w in te r gardens,
panoram as, factories, w ax-figu re cabinets, casinos, ra ilro a d
sta tion s” 96— as w ell as museums, a p a rtm e n t in te rio rs, d e p artm en t
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Part I I I

stores, and p u b lic spas.97 B e n ja m in referred to S igfried G ie d io n ’s

thesis th a t n in ete e n th -ce n tu ry a rc h ite c tu ra l form s “ ‘ had the role o f
the subconscious’ ” : “ Is it n o t b etter to say th a t it had the role o f
body processes, and then place the ‘a rty ’ a rch itectu re like dream s
a bo ut the scaffolding o f these body processes?” 98
B e n ja m in resurrects an im age o f the body p o litic , o u t o f fashion
in p o litic a l discourse since the Baroque e r a ," in w h ic h the
n in etee nth-cen tu ry dream elements register the co lle ctive ’s v ita l
signs:

The X I X century: a time-space [Zeitraum] (a time dream [Zeit-traum ]) in

which individual consciousness maintains itself ever more reflectively,
whereas in contrast the collective consciousness sinks into ever deeper
sleep. But ju st as the sleeping person (here like someone insane) sets out
on the macrocosmic journey through his body, and ju s t as the sounds
and sensations o f his own insides— which to the healthy, awake person
blend together in a surge o f health (blood pressure, intestinal movements,
heartbeat and muscle sensations)— due to his unprecedently sharpened
senses generate hallucinations or dream images that translate and explain
[these sensations], so it is too w ith the dreaming collective, which in the
arcades sinks into its own innards. This is what we have to pursue, in
order to interpret the nineteenth century in fashion and advertisement,
building and politics, as the consequence o f [the collective’s] dream
countenance.100

B e n ja m in notes: “ T h e firs t stim ulae fo r aw akening deepen

sleep.” 101 H e is re fe rrin g to the kitsch o f the end o f the ce n tu ry th a t
thickened the dream state. T h e proponents o f Jugendstil rejected
kitsch and trie d to break o u t in to “ free a ir,” b u t they understood
this o n ly as an id e a tio n a l space, “ the a rtific ia l brightness and isola­
tio n in w h ich advertisem ents represented th e ir objects” : Jugendstil
was thus o n ly “ the dream th a t one is awake.” 102 I t was S urrealism ,
w ith its “ ra d ica l concept o f freedom ,” 103 th a t firs t sounded the
rou sin g a la rm ; B e n ja m in ’s goal, w ith in the “ legacy o f S u r­
rea lism ,” 104 was to connect the shock o f aw akening w ith the
d is c ip lin e o f rem em be rin g and thereby m ob ilize the h is to ric a l
objects: “ W e here co n stru ct an a la rm clock th a t rouses the kitsch
o f the last ce n tu ry to ’assem bly’— and this operates to ta lly w ith
c u n n in g .” 105
“ W ith cu n n in g \m it L is t], n o t w ith o u t it, we absolve ourselves
fro m the realm o f dream s.” 106 T h e use o f H egel’s te rm was in ­
te n tio n a l,107 b u t B e n ja m in ’s m eaning was unique. A c c o rd in g to
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H egel, reason becomes conscious by w o rk in g its w ay “ w ith cun­

n in g ” in to h isto ry th ro u g h the passions and a m b itio n s o f u n w ittin g
h is to ric a l subjects. B u t in B e n ja m in ’s d ia le ctica l fa iry tale, c u nn in g
is the capacity, th ro u g h “ a w akening,” to o u tw it h isto ry, w h ic h has
placed a spell on the d re am ing collective, and has kept its m em bers
unconscious.108 H eg el’s “ cu nn in g o f reason” lite ra lly deifies h isto ry,
a ffirm in g the m y th o f progress. F or B e n ja m in , cu n n in g is the tric k
w hereby h um an subject get the b etter o f m y th ic powers. “ F a iry
tales,” B e nja m in w ro te in his (1934) essay on K a fk a , “ are the w ay
o f h a n d in g dow n the tra d itio n o f v ic to ry over the [forces o f
m y th ]:” 109 “ Odysseus stands in fact on the threshold th a t separates
m y th and fa iry tale. Reason and cu n n in g have placed tricks w ith in
m yths; th e ir forces cease being in v in c ib le .” 110
T h e “ tr ic k ” in B e n ja m in ’s fa iry tale is to in te rp re t o u t o f the
discarded dream images o f mass cu ltu re a p o litic a lly em pow ering
know ledge o f the colle ctive ’s ow n unconscious p a s t.111 H e believes
he can do this because it is th ro u g h such objects th a t the collective
unconscious com m unicates across generations. N ew inventions,
conceived o ut o f the fantasy o f one generation, are received w ith in
the ch ild h o o d experience o f another. N ow (and this is w here c h il­
d re n ’s co g n itio n becomes cru c ia l), they enter a second dream state:
“ T h e ch ild h o o d experience o f a generation has m uch in com m on
w ith dream experience.” 112 W e are thus presented w ith a double
dream theory, based on the ch ild h o o d o f an epoch on the one hand
and th a t o f a generation on another. I f ca p ita lism has been the
source o f the h is to ric a l dream state, the la tte r is o f ontogenetic o ri­
gins, and the tw o axes converge in a uniqu e constellation fo r each
generation. A t this intersection between collective h isto ry and p er­
sonal h isto ry, between society’s dream and ch ild ho od dream , the
contents o f the collective unconscious are tra n sm itte d : “ Every
epoch has this side tu rn e d to w ard dream s— the c h ild lik e side. F or
the preceding ce ntu ry i t emerges ve ry clea rly in the arcades.” 113
T h u s in the “ arcades [ . . . ] we, as in a dream , once again live the
life o f o u r parents and grandparents [ . . . J.114
C h ild h o o d is n o t m erely the passive receptacle fo r the h is to ric a l
unconscious. Even the m ost p ra ctica l, technical inventions are
transform ed in accord w ith its ow n te m p ora l index, and this entails
th e ir reversal fro m h is to ric a lly specific images in to archaic ones.
F ro m the c h ild ’ s p o sitio n the w hole span o f h isto ry, from the m ost
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Part I I I

a ncient to the m ost recent past, occurs in m y th ic tim e. N o h is to ry

recounts his o r her lived experience. A ll o f the past lies in an
a rch aic realm o f u r-h is to ry . W ith in the phylogenetic axis, h is to ry
m anifests its e lf as progress, fashion, and newness. B u t it is ju s t this
th a t the cognitive experience o f ch ild h o o d reverses:

A t first, granted, the technologically new gives the effect of being ju s t that.
But already in the next childhood memory it changes its characteristics.
Every child accomplishes something great, something irreplaceable for
humanity. Every childhood, through its interests in technological
phenomena, its curiosity for all sorts o f inventions and machinery, binds
technological achievement [the newest things] onto the old world of
symbols.115

T h e c h ild ’s creative p erception o f the objects in fact recollects the

h is to ric a l m om ent w hen the new technology was firs t conceived—
th a t “ to o -e a rly” epoch w hen, onto a new natu re s till in the stage o f
m y th , a ll kinds o f archaic sym bols were cathected.116 T h e difference
is th a t now the technical aspects o f th a t natu re have m atu red h is­
to ric a lly . O ve r the ce ntu ry, they have become “ m erely n ew ,” d is­
p la y in g o nly th e ir “ m o d e rn ” or “ d ash in g ” side. B u t: “ T h e c h ild
can in fact do som ething o f w h ic h the a d u lt is to ta lly incapable:
‘discover the new anew .’ ” 117 T h is discovery reinvests the objects
w ith sym bo lic m eaning and thus rescues fo r the collective m em ory
th e ir u to p ia n sig n ifica tio n .
S lu m b e rin g w ith in the objects, the u to p ia n w ish is awakened by
a new generation th a t “ rescues” it by b rin g in g the old “ w o rld o f
sym bols” back to life. H ere B e n ja m in ’s fa iry tale m ay appear to
come close to the th eo ry posited b y J u n g o f a collective unconscious
c o n ta in in g innate, a rch etyp a l sym bols. T h e difference is Ben­
ja m in ’s M a rx is t se nsibility. W h e n the c h ild ’s fantasy is cathected
onto the products o f m odern p ro d u c tio n , it reactivates the o rig in a l
prom ise o f in d u s tria lis m , n ow slu m b e rin g in the la p o f c a p ita lis m ,
to d e live r a hum ane society o f m a te ria l abundance. T h u s, in term s
o f socialist, re v o lu tio n a ry p o litics, the rediscovery o f these u r-
sym bols in the m ost m od em te chnological products has an ab­
so lutely co ntem porary relevance— and a p o litic a lly explosive
p o te n tia l.
T h e b io log ica l task o f a w akening fro m ch ild ho od becomes a
m odel fo r a collective, social aw akening. B u t m ore: In the co llective
experience o f a generation the tw o converge. T h e co m ing -to-co n-
2 7 5 ____________________________________

8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

sciousness o f a generation is a p o litic a lly e m pow ering m om ent, h is­

to ric a lly unique, in w h ich the new generation, in rebellion against
the p a re n ta l w o rld , m ay awaken n o t o n ly itself, b u t the slum bering,
u to p ia n p o te n tia l o f the epoch.

The fact that we have been children in this time is part o f its objective
image. I t had to be thus in order to release from itself this generation.
T hat means: we look in the dream-connection for a teleological moment.
This moment is one o f waiting. The dream waits secretly for the awaken­
ing; the sleeper gives himself over to death only u ntil recalled; he waits for
the second in which he wrests himself from capture w ith cunning. So it is
too w ith the dreaming collective for whom its children become the fortu­
nate occasion for its own awakening.118

A m a te ria lis t h isto ry th a t disenchants the new n atu re in ord er to

free it fro m the spell o f ca pita lism , and yet rescues a ll the pow er o f
e nchantm ent fo r the purpose o f social tra n sfo rm a tio n : this was to
have been the goal o f B e n ja m in ’s fa iry tale. A t the m om ent o f the
co lle ctive ’s h is to ric a l aw akening, it was to p ro vid e a p o litic a lly ex­
plosive answer to the sociohistorical fo rm o f the c h ild ’s question:
“ W here d id I come from ?” W here d id m odern existence, or, m ore
accurately, the images o f the m odern d re a m w o rld come from?
Speaking o f S urrealism , the aesthetic expression o f th a t dream ­
w o rld , B e n ja m in w rote: “ T h e fa th e r o f S urrealism was D ada; its
m o th e r was an arcade.” 119

W hat Benjamin said and wrote sounded as if, instead o f rejecting the
promises of fairy tales and children’s books w ith tasteful “ m aturity,”
thought took them so literally that actual fulfillm ent became itself conceiv­
able to knowledge.120

In his 1936 essay, “ T h e S to ryte lle r,” B e n ja m in described the fa iry

tale as a m ode o f c u ltu ra l inh erita nce th a t, fa r from p a rtic ip a tin g in
the ideology o f class d o m in a tio n ,121 keeps alive the prom ise o f l i ­
b eratio n by show ing th a t n a tu re — anim als and anim ated forces—
prefers n o t to be “ subservient to m y th ,” b u t ra th e r, “ to be aligned
w ith h um an beings” against m y th .122 In this sense, m erely by res­
cu in g fo r h is to ric a l m em ory F o u rie r’s visions o f society, the histo­
ria n becomes a te lle r o f fa iry tales. F o u rie r’s u to p ia n plans, in
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Part I I I

w h ic h natu re and h u m a n ity are in fact a llied , challenge the m y th

th a t in d u s tria liz a tio n had to develop as i t has, th a t is, as a m ode o f
d o m in a tin g b oth h um an beings and the n a tu ra l w o rld o f w h ich
they are a p a rt. A late e n try to the Passagen-Werk makes th is clear,
and connects F o u rie r’s theories specifically w ith c h ild re n ’s play:

The distinguishing characteristic o f the labor process’ relationship to na­

ture is marked by this relation’s social constitution. I f humans were not
genuinely exploited, then one could spare oneself the disingenuous talk o f
the exploitation o f nature. Such talk strengthens the illusion that raw
material receives “ value” only through an order o f production which rests
on the exploitation o f human labor. I f this order ceases, then human labor
for its part w ill cast aside its characteristic exploitation o f nature. Hum an
labor w ill then proceed in accord w ith the model o f children’s play, which
in Fourier is the basis o f the travail passionne [passionate labor] o f the harmo-
niens [dwellers in his utopian communities]. To have situated play as the
canon o f a form o f labor that is no longer exploitative is one o f the greatest
merits o f Fourier. Labor thus animated by play aims not at the production
o f value, but at an improved nature. And Fourier’s utopia presents a
model for it, one that can in fact be found realized in children’s play. I t
is the image o f an earth on which all places have become Wirtsckaften.
The double meaning o f the word [economy/public inn] blossoms here:
A ll places are cultivated by human beings, made useful and beautiful by
them; all, however, stand like a roadside inn, open to everyone. An earth
ordered according to such an image would cease to be part “ D ’un monde
ou Paction n3est pas la soeur de reve [Baudelaire].” In it, activity would be
the sister o f the dream.123

O f course, i t is n ot to ch ild re n th a t the fa iry tale o f the Arcades is to

be to ld , b u t to those whose ch ild ho od is its e lf o n ly a dream m em ­
o ry. B e n ja m in w rites:

T hat which the child (and the grown man in his faint memory) finds in
the old folds o f the dress into which he pressed him self when he held fast to
the skirted lap o f his mother— that must be contained by these pages.124

H e adds to this the keyw ord: “ F ashion.” F o r it is precisely the

ephem eral fashion o f a m o th e r’s s k irt th a t determ ines the physical
experience o f this ch ild h o o d event. Even the m ost fu n d a m e n ta l,
ur-desire fo r the m o th e r is thus m ediated by h is to ric a lly tra n s ito ry
m a te ria l, and it is the la tte r (as Proust k n e w 125) th a t leaves its trace
in m em ory. These m em ories are evidence th a t the “ u nfin ish ed and
com m onplace, co m fo rtin g and s illy ” w o rld in w h ic h we have in fact
liv e d is n o t w ith o u t the m om e n ta ry experience o f u top ia. B e n ja m in
cites K a fk a ’s d escrip tio n o f Josephine, the sing ing mouse:
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8 Dream World of Mass Culture

Something o f our poor, brief childhood is in [her song], something o f lost

happiness, never to be rediscovered, but also something o f our present
daily life, o f its small, inexplicable and yet existing, indestructible
gaieties.126

A t no tim e d id B e nja m in suggest th a t the c h ild ’s m y th ic u nd e r­

sta n d in g was its e lf tru th . B u t ch ild ho od caught the h is to ric a l
objects in a web o f m eanings so th a t the g ro w n generation had,
subsequently, a psychic investm ent in them , le n d in g them a
“ h ig h e r degree o f a c tu a lity ” now th an in the p a s t.127 M o re o v e r—
and th is was no sm all p a rt o f B e n ja m in ’s “ tr ic k ” — in the presence
o f the h is to ric a l objects th a t p opulate a c ity, this generation not
o n ly “ recognizes” its “ ow n yo u th , the m ost recent one” ; b u t also
“ an e a rlie r ch ild h o o d speaks to i t , ” as if, th ro u g h the “ double
flo o r” o f the street pavem ent one could be dropped back in tim e
as th ro u g h a tra p door, and “ affected even by the know ledge o f
dead dates as som ething experienced and liv e d ” : I t is thus “ the
same” w he th e r the experience o f reco gn ition p ro m p te d by the
objects is “ o f an e arlie r [c h ild h o o d ] o r o f one’s o w n .” 128 In e ither
case it is as a m em ory trace th a t the discarded object possesses
the p o te n tia l fo r re v o lu tio n a ry m o tiv a tio n . B e n ja m in describes

[. . . ] the two faces o f the [Arcades] project: One, that which goes from
the past into the present, and represents the arcades as precursors; and
[the other], that which goes from the present into the past, in order to let
the revolutionary completion o f these “ precursors” explode in the present,
and this direction also understands the sorrowful, fascinated contempla­
tion o f the most recent past as its revolutionary explosion.129

[In the arcades] we relive, as in a dream, the life o f our parents and grand­
parents, ju st as, in the mother’s womb, the embryo relives animal life.130

“ Who w ill live in the paternal home?” 131

T h e cogn itive axis o f social h isto ry was necessary because it

allow ed one to “ recognize the sea in w h ich we are jo u rn e y in g and
the shore from w h ich we pushed off.” 132 M oreo ver, the a llegorical,
“ s o rro w fu l” co n te m p la tio n o f the past underscored the transiency
o f m y th ic images. B u t even w ith in the sym bolic, cognitive axis o f
c h ild h o o d , B e n ja m in took great pains to dem onstrate th a t its im -
278_____
Part I I I

ages were m ediated at every p o in t by h istory. In the Passagen-Werk

he cited E rn st B lo c h ’s insistence th a t the unconscious is an “ ‘ac­
q u ire d c o n d itio n ’ ” in specific h u m a n beings.133 E x e m p la ry were
those images o f his ow n ch ild h o o d w h ic h he recorded in the early
1930s. T h e y are less o f people than o f those h is to ric a lly specific,
u rb a n spaces o f tu m -o f-th e -c e n tu ry B e rlin th a t p ro v id e d the set­
tings for his experiences.134 T h e y concern as w ell the m aterial p ro d ­
ucts o f in d u s tria lis m : a w ro u g h t-iro n door, the telephone, a slot
m achine dispensing chocolates, B e rlin ’s own arcades. T h e w o rld o f
the m odern c ity appears in these w ritin g s as a m y th ic and m agical
one in w h ic h the c h ild B e n ja m in “ discovers the new anew ,” and
the a d u lt B e n ja m in recognizes it as a rediscovery o f the o ld .135 T h e
images o f the unconscious are thus form ed as a re su lt o f concrete,
h is to ric a l experiences, n o t (as w ith J u n g ’ s archetypes) b io lo g ic a lly
in h e rite d .136
B e n ja m in observes th a t the d ia le ctica l in te rp e n e tra tio n o f gener­
a tio n a l and collective h is to ry is a specifically m odern phenom enon:
“ T h is inexorable c o n fro n ta tio n o f the m ost recent past w ith the
present is som ething h is to ric a lly n ew .” 137 In fact, the in te n s ific a ­
tio n o f m y th ic pow er in b o th dream states is its e lf a fu n c tio n o f
h isto ry. W h e n c a p ita lis m ’s new dream sleep fell over E urope, it
became the cause o f a re a ctiva tio n o f m y th ic powers. Precisely the
city landscape “ confers on ch ild ho od m em ories a q u a lity th a t
makes them at once as evanescent and as a llu rin g ly to rm e n tin g as
h a lf-fo rg o tte n dream s.” 138 In the prem odern era, fashions d id n o t
change w ith such ra p id ity , and the m uch slower advances in tech­
nology were “ covered over by the tra d itio n o f ch urch and fa m ily ” ;
b u t now : “ T h e old p re h is to ric shudder already surrounds the w o rld
o f o u r parents because we are no longer s till b ou nd to i t by
tra d itio n .” 139 B e n ja m in describes w h a t is specific to his ow n h is to r­
ical era:

The worlds o f memory replace themselves more quickly, the m ythic in

them surfaces more quickly and crassly, [and] a totally different world o f
memory must be set up even faster against them. From the perspective o f
today’s ur-history, this is how the accelerated tempo o f technology
looks.140

I n the prem odern era, co llective sym bo lic m eaning was tran sfe rred
consciously th ro u g h the n a rra tio n o f tra d itio n , w h ic h g uided the
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8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

new generation o ut o f its ch ild ho od dream state. G iven m o d e rn ity ’s

ru p tu re o f tra d itio n , this is no longer possible.

Whereas [. . . ] the traditional and religious upbringing o f earlier genera­

tions interpreted these dreams for them, the present process of childrear­
ing boils down simply to the distraction o f children. Proust could appear
as a phenomenon only in a generation that had lost all bodily, natural
expediencies for remembering, and, poorer than before, was left to its own
devices, and thus could only get a hold o f the children’s world in an iso­
lated, scattered, and pathological fashion.141

P a ra lle lin g the “ old-fashioned effect” o f the arcades “ on people o f

to d a y ,” was the “ a n tiq u a ria n effect o f the fa th e r on his son.” 142 In a
w o rld o f objects th a t changed its face d ra s tic a lly in the course o f a
generation, parents could no longer counsel th e ir c h ild re n , w ho
were thus “ le ft to th e ir ow n devices.” These devices rem ained “ iso­
la te d ,” indeed “ p a th o lo g ica l,” u n til they could be organized collec­
tiv e ly. B e n ja m in ’s fa iry tale was conceived in response to this need.
T h e ru p tu re o f tra d itio n was irrevocable. F ar from la m e n tin g the
s itu a tio n ,143 B e nja m in saw precisely here m o d e rn ity ’s u n iq u e ly
re v o lu tio n a ry p o te n tia l. T h e tra d itio n a l m anner w hereby the new
generation was b ro u g h t o u t o f its ch ild ho od d re a m w o rld had the
effect o f p e rp e tu a tin g the social status quo. In contrast, the ru p tu re
o f tra d itio n now frees sym bo lic powers fro m conservative restraints
fo r the task o f social tra n sfo rm a tio n , th a t is, fo r a ru p tu re o f those
social co nd itio ns o f d o m in a tio n th a t, consistently, have been the
source o f tra d itio n . T h u s B e nja m in insisted: “ W e m ust wake up
fro m the w o rld o f o u r p arents.” 144

The history o f dreams has yet to be written [. . . ] . 145

B e n ja m in m a in ta in e d the double dream th eo ry o u tlin e d above at

least u n til 1935, the year he com pleted his expose o f the Arcades
p roject. A t th is p o in t the p h ilo lo g ic a l situ a tio n becomes m u rk y .
T h e re are at least six copies o f the 1935 expose, w ith differences in
w o rd in g sig n ific a n t enough to have caused the e d ito r to inclu de
three o f them in the p ublished Passagen-Werk.146 A ll o f these v e r­
sions refer to the fo llo w in g : d re a m w o rld , u to p ia n w ish images,
collective dream consciousness, generations,147 and, m ost e m p ha ti-
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Part I I I

cally, the conception o f d ia le ctica l th in k in g as h is to ric a l aw aken­

in g w h ich is sparked by the residues o f mass c u ltu re .148 N o tic e a b ly
absent is the im age o f the slu m b e rin g body p o litic , as w e ll as
any reference to a “ d ia le c tic a l fa iry scene.”
In a le tte r to K a rp lu s (A u g u st 16, 1935), B e n ja m in explained
th a t he had given up th is e a rlie r su b title because it allow ed o n ly an
“ inexcusably lite ra ry ” shaping o f the m a te ria l.149 D id B e n ja m in
give up his th eo ry o f the ch ild h o o d dream state as well? In the same
le tte r he spoke o f the absolute d is tin c tio n between the Arcades p ro j­
ect and form s, such as Berliner K indheit um 1900, th a t recounted
ch ild h o o d m em ories: “ T h e u r-h is to ry o f the 19th ce ntu ry w h ic h is
reflected in the gaze o f the c h ild p la y in g on its threshold has a m uch
d ifferen t face th an th a t w h ic h i t engraves on the m ap o f h is to ry .” 150
H e added th a t “ m a kin g th is know ledge clear to m e” had been “ an
im p o rta n t fu n ctio n o f [w r itin g the expose].” 151 A n d yet, i f n o t o n ly
the to o -lite ra ry fo rm b u t also the theoretical content o f the o rig in a l
conception had been abandoned, i t w o u ld be d iffic u lt to ju s tify his
sim ultaneous claim , against A d o rn o ’s criticism , th a t there had
been “ no w o rd lo st” fro m the o rig in a l 1927-29 d ra ft o f the
p ro je c t.152 In fact, B e n ja m in had n o t discarded the early notes and
co m m en ta ry dealing w ith the dream theory, and he never d id .153
A d o rn o ’s know ledge o f these notes was lim ite d to w h a t B e n ja m in
had read to h im in K o n ig s te in in 1929.154 W e do n ot kn o w w he th er
th e ir discussions there in clu d e d the ch ild h o o d dream state. W e do
kn o w th a t its absence in the expose was n o t w h a t A d o rn o lam ented
w hen he accused B e n ja m in o f b e tra yin g the early p la n. I t was the
im agery o f “ negative th e o lo g y” — the n in ete e n th -ce n tu ry co m m od ­
ity w o rld as H e ll— th a t A d o rn o missed, n o t th a t o f c h ild h o o d and
fa iry tales.
Iro n ic a lly , had B e n ja m in inclu de d an ela bo ratio n o f the th eo ry o f
the ch ild h o o d in h e rita n ce o f the collective dream , he m ig h t have
w arded o ff a no the r o f A d o rn o ’s criticism s, th a t w ith the “ sacrifice
o f th eo log y,” B e n ja m in had “ disenchanted” the idea o f d ia le c tic a l
images by psycho lo gizin g them to the p o in t where the e ntire con­
ception had become “ d e-dia le ctized .” 155 T h e double dre am theory
was com plex and its expression was perhaps indeed “ inexcusa bly
lite ra ry ,” b u t w ith o u t it, the re v o lu tio n a ry pow er o f “ dream im ­
ages” had to be situated solely w ith in the sociohistorical axis, as i f
th a t pow er existed ready-m ade in the images o f the nin etee nth-
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8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

ce ntu ry collective (un)conscious, ra th e r th an being created by the

specific w ay the present generation in h e rite d the “ failed m a te ria l5*
o f the past. A d o rn o argued against the conception o f a collective
consciousness on M a rx is t grounds: “ I t should speak clea rly and
w ith sufficient w a rn in g th a t in the d re a m in g collective there is no
room fo r class differences.” 156
T h e re is no d o u b t th a t B e n ja m in took A d o rn o ’s criticism s o f the
1935 expose se riou sly.157 T he re is little d o u b t th a t he attem pted to
stick to his position despite th e m .158 T h e m a te ria l re la tin g to
th eo re tica l questions w h ic h he added to the Passagen-Werk after
1935 inten sifie d a d ire ctio n o f research he had in fact already be­
gun, to g ro u n d the basic prem ise o f his dream th e o ry— th a t the
nineteenth ce ntu ry was the o rig in o f a collective dream fro m w hich
an “ aw akened” present generation could derive re v o lu tio n a ry
s ig n ific a tio n — in the theories o f M a rx and F re u d .159 S trik in g ly
(and d ia le c tic a lly ), he found in M a rx a ju s tific a tio n fo r the con­
ception o f a collective dream , and in F reud an arg um en t fo r the
existence o f class differences w ith in it.
O f course M a rx had spoken p o sitive ly o f a collective dream , and
m ore th an once. A fte r 1935 B e n ja m in added to Konvolut N the w ell-
kn ow n q u o ta tio n from M a r x ’s early w ritin g s :

“ O u r m otto m u s t. . . be: Reform o f consciousness not by means o f dog­

mas, b u t by analyzing the m ystical consciousness unclear to itself,
w hether it appears religiously or p o litic a lly . I t w ill then become clear that
the w orld has long possesssed in the form o f a dream something o f w hich it
only has to become conscious in order to possess it in re a lity .55160

A n d he chose as the in s c rip tio n fo r this Konvolut (the m a jo r one on

m ethod) M a r x ’s statem ent: “ ‘T h e reform o f consciousness consists
only therein, th a t one wakes the w o r ld . . . o u t o f its dream o f
its e lf.’ ” 161
Class d ifferen tia tion s were never la ckin g in B e n ja m in ’s th eo ry o f
the collective unconscious, w h ich even in his earliest fo rm u la tio n s
he considered an extension and refinem ent o f M a r x ’ s th eo ry o f the
su pe rstru cture . T h e collective dream m anifested the ideology o f the
d o m in a n t class:

T he question is, namely, i f the substructure to a certain extent determines

the superstructure in terms o f the m aterial o f thought and experience, b u t
this determ ining is not sim p ly one o f copying, how is it [ . . . ] to be char-
282_____
Part I I I

acterized? As its expression. The superstructure is the expression o f the

substructure. The economic conditions under which society exists come to
expression in the superstructure, ju st as the over-filled stomach o f some­
one who is sleeping, even i f it may causally determine the contents of
the dream, finds in those contents not its copied reflection, but its
expression.162

I t is o f course the bourgeoisie, n o t the p ro le ta ria t, whose dream

expresses the uneasiness o f an o ve rly fu ll stomach.
B e n ja m in claim ed th a t M a rx never intended a d ire ct, causal re­
la tio n sh ip between su bstru ctu re and superstructure: “ A lre a d y the
observation th a t the ideologies o f the superstructure reflect [social]
relations in a false and d isto rte d fo rm goes beyond th is .” 163 F re u d ’s
dream th eo ry p ro vid e d a g ro un d fo r such d is to rtio n . B e n ja m in ’s
d ire c t references to F re u d ia n th eo ry rem ained lim ite d and q u ite
general.164 B u t on this p o in t, even i f d ire ct indebtedness cannot be
p ro v e n ,165 there was a clear consensus. F reud had w ritte n th a t
“ ideas in dream s [ . . . are] fu lfillm e n ts o f wishes,” 166 w h ic h , due to
a m b iva le n t feelings, appear in a censored, hence d isto rte d fo rm .
T h e a ctual (la te n t) w ish m ay be alm ost in visib le at the m anifest
level, and is a rrive d at o n ly after the d re am ’s in te rp re ta tio n . T hu s:
“ A dream is a (disguised) fu lfillm e n t o f a (suppressed o r repressed)
w is h .” 167 I f one takes the bourgeois class to be the generator o f the
collective dream , then the socialist tendencies o f th a t in d u s tria lis m
w h ich i t its e lf created w o u ld seem to catch it, u n a v o id a b ly , in a
s itu a tio n o f a m b iva le n t desire. T h e bourgeoisie desires to a ffirm
th a t in d u s tria l p ro d u c tio n from w h ich i t is d e riv in g p ro fits ; at the
same tim e i t wishes to deny the fact th a t in d u s tria lis m creates the
cond itio ns th a t th reaten the co n tin u a tio n o f its ow n class rule.
Precisely this bourgeois class am bivalence is docum ented b y a
w hole range o f q uo tatio n s th a t B e n ja m in inclu de d in the Passagen-
Werk m a te ria l at a ll stages o f the project. N in e te e n th -ce n tu ry u to ­
p ia n w ritin g s are the “ d epository o f collective dream s,” 168 b u t they
also come to the aid o f the ru lin g class by fe tis h is tic ly e qu atin g
technological developm ent w ith social progress (S a in t-S im o n ).
A rc h ite c tu ra l constructions have “ the role o f the subconscious,” 169
b u t th e ir facades cam ouflage the very newness o f the technology
they em ploy. In his research B e n ja m in finds a d escrip tio n o f “ fu ­
tu re P a ris” in w h ich cafes are s till ranked according to social
classes.170 Im ages o f Paris projected in to the tw e n tie th c e n tu ry in -
283 ______________________________

8 Dream W orld o f Mass Culture

elude visito rs fro m other planets a rriv in g in Paris to p la y the stock

m a rk e t.171 B e nja m in notes: “ T h e operetta is the iro n ic u to p ia o f a
lastin g d o m in a tio n by C a p ita l.” 172 O n the m anifest level, the fu tu re
appears as lim itless progress and continuous change. B u t on the
la te n t level, the level o f the d re am er’s true w ish, it expresses the
e te rn a liza tio n o f bourgeois class d o m in a tio n .
A n early (p re -J u n e 1935) Konvolut e n try questions w hether

[ . . . ] there could spring out o f the repressed economic contents o f the

consciousness o f a collective, s im ila rly to w hat Freud claims fo r [the] sex­
ual [contents] o f an in d iv id u a l consciousness [ . . . ] a form o f literature, a
fantasy-im agining [ . . .as] sublim ation [ . . . ] . 173

A late fo rm u la tio n describes the ru lin g class’ am bivalence th a t

makes it block the rea liza tion o f the very u to p ia n dreams it has
generated:

[ . . . T ]h e bourgeoisie no longer dares to look in the eye the order o f p ro ­

duction th a t it has its e lf set in to m otion. T he idea o f [Nietzsche’s]
Z arathustra o f eternal recurrence and the m otto embroidered on p illo w
covers— “Ju st a quarter hour m ore” — are com plem entary.174

B e n ja m in notes s im ila rly th a t the “ p ha nta sm ag oria ” o f Baude­

la ire ’s reve Parisian “ rem inds one o f the w o rld expositions in w h ich
the bourgeoisie calls o u t to the o rd er o f p ro p e rty and p ro d u ctio n :
’Stay a w hile. Y o u are so lovely! [Verweile dock, du bist so sckon\.'” ]75
T h e cu ltu re o f the nineteenth ce ntu ry unleashed an abundance o f
fantasies o f the fu tu re , b u t it was at the same tim e “ a vehem ent
a tte m p t to h o ld back the p ro d u ctive forces.” 176 If, on the d re a m ’s
m anifest level, changing fashion is a p re fig u rin g o f social tran s­
fo rm a tio n , on the la te n t level it is “ a cam ouflage o f very specific
desires o f the ru lin g class,” a “ fig le a f ’ covering up the fact th a t, to
cite B recht: “ ‘T h e rulers have a great aversion against vio le n t
changes.’ ” 177
C o m m o d ity fetishism (as w e ll as u rb a n “ renew al” ) can be
view ed as a textbook case o f F re u d ’s concept o f displacem ent:
Social relations o f class e xp lo ita tio n are displaced onto relations
am ong things, thus concealing the real situ a tio n w ith its dangerous
p o te n tia l fo r social re vo lu tio n . I t is p o litic a lly sig n ifica n t th a t by the
late n ineteenth century, the bourgeois dream o f dem ocracy its e lf
u nd e rw e n t th is fo rm o f censorship: Freedom was equated w ith the
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Part I I I

a b ility to consume. B e n ja m in w rites th a t egalite developed its own

“ p h a nta sm ag oria,” 178 and “ la revolution” came to mean “ clearance
sale” in the nineteenth c e n tu ry .179
B y the end o f the ce ntu ry, the dream , clearly o f bourgeois origins
(and bourgeois in the la te n t w ish th a t it expressed) had in fact
become “ co lle ctive,” spreading to the w o rk in g class as w ell. T h e
mass m a rke tin g o f d ream * w ith in a class system th a t prevented
th e ir re a liza tio n in a n y th in g m ore th a n the d istorted fo rm o f dream
sym bols was q u ite o b vio u sly a g ro w th in d u s try . In his earliest
notes, B e n ja m in in te rp re te d “ k its c h ,” the cluttered , aesthetic style
o f this mass m a rke tin g , as bourgeois class g u ilt: “ the o ve rp ro d u c­
tio n o f com m odities; the bad conscience o f the producers.” 180 T h e
social goal o f course was m a te ria l abundance, w h ic h is w h y the
dream fu nctio ne d le g itim a te ly on the m anifest level o f collective
w ish im age. B u t the co m m o d ity fo rm o f the dream generated the
expectation th a t the in te rn a tio n a l, socialist goal o f mass affluence
could be delivered by n a tio n a l, c a p ita lis t means, and th a t expecta­
tio n was a fa ta l b lo w to re v o lu tio n a ry w orking-class p o litics.

T h e ch ild h o o d o f B e n ja m in ’s generation belonged to this end-of-

th e -ce n tu ry era o f the firs t mass m a rke tin g o f dream s. B e n ja m in
recalled th a t his in tro d u c tio n to c ivic life had been as a consum er.
H e rem em bered his “ sense o f im potence before the c ity ,” and his
“ dream y resistance” w hen, led by his m oth er, he w alked th ro u g h
the streets o f the c ity center:

In those early years I got to know the “ c ity ” only as the stage o f
“ errands.” [ . . . I ] t was not u n til the confectioner’s th a t we fe lt better,
having escaped the idolatrous w orship th a t hum bled o ur m other before
idols w ith the names o f M a nnheim er, H erzog and Israel, Gerson, A dam ,
Esders and M adler, Em m a Bette, Bud and Lachm ann. A row o f u n ­
fathom able masses, no, caves o f com m odities— th a t was the c ity .181

If, as has ju s t been argued, B e n ja m in ’s th eo ry o f the co llective

dream d id n o t disregard class d istin ctio n s, can the same be said o f
his th eo ry o f p o litic a l awakening? I n his earliest notes, B e n ja m in
ind ica te d th a t the bourgeoisie w ho had generated the dream re­
m ained trap pe d w ith in it:
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8 Dream World of Mass Culture

D id not M a rx teach us th a t the bourgeoisie can never come to a fu lly

enlightened consciousness o f itself? A n d i f this is true, is one not ju stifie d
in connecting the idea o f the dream ing collective (i.e., the bourgeois col­
lective) onto his thesis?182

A n d in the e n try im m e d ia te ly fo llo w in g :

W ould it not be possible, in a ddition, to show from the collected facts w ith
w hich this [Arcades] w ork is concerned, how they appear in the process o f
the p ro le ta ria t’s becoming self-conscious?183

B e n ja m in never im p lie d th a t his ow n experience o f the c ity was

a n y th in g b u t class bound. In Berliner Chronik: “ T h e poor? F or ric h
ch ild re n o f his [B e n ja m in ’s] generation they liv e d at the back o f
b eyo nd .” 184 H e a d m itte d :

I never slept on the street in B e rlin [ . . . ]. O n ly those fo r whom poverty or

vice turns the city in to a landscape in w hich they stray from dark till
sunrise know it in a way denied to m e.183

A n d in the Passagen-Werk: “ W h a t do we kn ow o f the streetcorners,

curbstones, heat, d irt, and edges o f the stones u nd er naked soles
[ ] ? ” 186

T h e class d ivisio n was undeniable. Nevertheless, B e nja m in fe lt

th a t there was a confluence in the objective positions o f intellectu als
and a rtists as c u ltu ra l producers and the p ro le ta ria t as in d u s tria l
producers, as a resu lt o f the specific conste lla tion o f econom ic and
c u ltu ra l h isto ry. T h e tu rn o f the ce ntu ry experienced a c u ltu ra l
“ crisis,” and close on its heels there follow ed the econom ic one, a
“ shaking o f co m m o d ity society” 187 th a t set o ff trem ors in the collec­
tive dream . A ro u n d this h isto rica l conste lla tion the experience o f
his generation coalesced, and w e ll in to the 1930s B e n ja m in found in
it an extre m ely precarious cause fo r hope. T h u s he could w rite to
Scholem in 1935: “ I believe th a t [th e Passagen-Werk's] conception,
even i f it is ve ry personal in its origins, has as its object the decisive
h is to rica l interests o f o u r g en eratio n.” 188
F o r the p ro le ta ria t, the discarded m a te ria l o f n in etee nth-cen tu ry
c u ltu re sym bolized a life th a t was s till u n a tta in a b le ; fo r the
bourgeois in te lle c tu a l, it represented the loss o f w h a t once was. Y e t
fo r b o th classes, the re v o lu tio n in style b ro u g h t a bo ut by com m odi­
ty c u ltu re was the dream fo rm o f social re v o lu tio n — the o nly fo rm
possible w ith in a bourgeois social context. T h e new generation ex-
286_____
Part I I I

perienced “ the fashions o f the m ost recent past as the m ost th o r­

ough a n ti-a p h ro d isia c th a t can be im a g in e d .” 189 B u t precisely this
was w h a t m ade them “ p o litic a lly v ita l,” so th a t “ the c o n fro n ta tio n
w ith the fashions o f the past generation is an a ffa ir o f m uch greater
m eaning th a n has been supposed.” 190 T h e discarded props o f the
p a re n ta l d re a m w o rld were m a te ria l evidence th a t the p hantasm a­
g o ria o f progress had been a staged spectacle and n o t re a lity . A t the
same tim e, as the s tu ff o f ch ild h o o d m em ories, these outm oded o b ­
jects retained sem antic pow er as sym bols. B e nja m in com m ented
th a t fo r K a fka , “ as o n ly fo r ‘o u r’ generation [ . . . ] the h o rrify in g
fu rn itu re o f the b e g in nin g o f h ig h ca p ita lism was fe lt as the show-
place o f its b rig h te st ch ild h o o d experience.” 191 T h e desire to recap­
tu re the lost w o rld o f ch ild h o o d d eterm ined a gen eratio n ’s in te re st
in the past. B u t it was the needs o f its m embers as a dults th a t
dete rm ine d th e ir desire to w ake up.
9________________________
Materialist Pedagogy

9.1 Sitdown strike, Paris, June 1936: W orkers occupying a factory, some playing cards,
others sleeping.

The contem porary who, in reading a w ork o f history, recognizes w ith

w hat a long hand the misery th a t befalls h im [her] has been in
p reparation— and showing the reader this m ust lie close to the histo ria n ’s
heart— thereby acquires a high opinion o f his [her] own powers. A history
that teaches people in this m anner does not make them m elancholy, but
provides them w ith weapons.1
288
Part I I I

T he dialectical penetration and actualization o f the past as it connects

w ith the present is the test o f the tru th o f present action.2

T h e Theses on H is to ry 3 m ake a pedagogic p o in t, and i t is expressly

p o litic a l. If, as M a rx argued, the ru lin g ideas have always been
those o f the ru lin g class, w h a t value can the h is to ric a l m a te ria lis t
fin d in those “ treasures” w h ic h make up the c u ltu ra l inheritance?

For w ith o u t exception the c u ltu ra l treasures he surveys have a lineage

w hich he cannot contem plate w ith o u t h o rro r. T hey owe th e ir existence
not only to the efforts o f the great geniuses who have created them, b u t
also to the anonymous to il o f th e ir contem poraries. T here is never a docu­
m ent o f culture that is not sim ultaneously a docum ent o f barbarism . A n d
ju s t as it is its e lf not free o f barbarism , so barbarism taints the tra d itio n
through w hich it has been transm itted fro m owner to ow ner.4

T h e process o f c u ltu ra l transm ission appears as a “ triu m p h a l p ro ­

cession,” in w h ich the present rulers step over those w ho today are
ly in g p ro s tra te .” 5 B e n ja m in concludes: “ A h is to ric a l m a te ria lis t
therefore disassociates h im s e lf from it as fa r as possible. H e regards
it as his task to brush h is to ry against the g ra in .” 6 T h is “ task” o f
the h is to ric a l m a te ria lis t is v ita l fo r re v o lu tio n a ry pedagogy. In
“ E d u a rd Fuchs: C o lle c to r and H is to ria n ,” an a rtic le w h ic h , as
T ie d e m a n n claim s, is “ w ith o u t question one o f the m ost sig n ific a n t
w orks o f B e n ja m in ’s la te r years” 7 (and w h ich , lik e the Theses,
draw s h e a vily fro m Konvolut N ) B e n ja m in w rites th a t in the p erio d
before W o rld W a r I, the Social D em ocrats m ade a serious theore­
tic a l e rror, one w h ic h was large ly responsible fo r the c o -o ptin g o f
the w orking-class m ovem ent and the fa ilu re o f the G erm an re v o lu ­
tio n o f 1918. T h e Social D em ocrats had a slogan: “ K n ow le dg e is
p o w e r.”

B u t [the Social D em ocratic P arty] did not see through to its double mean­
ing. I t thought the same knowledge th a t ensured the rule o f the
bourgeoisie over the p ro le ta ria t w ould enable the p ro le ta ria t to free its e lf
from this rule. In rea lity, knowledge th a t had no access to praxis and th a t
could teach the p ro le ta ria t nothing about its situ a tio n as a class was no
danger to its oppressors. T h is was especially true o f knowledge re la tin g to
the hum anities. I t lagged fa r behind economics, rem aining untouched by
the revolution in economic theory.8
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9 M aterialist Pedagogy

I t is im p o rta n t to realize th a t B e n ja m in was n o t s im p ly a tte m p tin g

to b u ild on the w o rk o f M e h rin g , Fuchs, and others in developing a
new ‘ ‘M a r x is t” approach to the sociology o f lite ra tu re o r a rt. H e
believed c u ltu ra l h is to ry stood at the center o f class education. H e
w ro te concerning the Second In te rn a tio n a l (sounding ve ry m uch
lik e G ra m sci): “ V e ry few at the tim e recognized how m uch in rea l­
ity hinged upon the task o f m a te ria lis t e du ca tio n .” 9 Since progress
was n o t a u to m a tic in h isto ry, “ m a te ria lis t e du ca tio n ,” knowledge
th a t p ro vid e d “ access to p ra x is ” was crucial. E ve ry th in g depended
on i t . 10
In his notes to the B a udelaire book, B e n ja m in a nticip a te d the
c ritic is m th a t this poet (w ho had acquired the status o f a
“ classic” 11 am ong his ow n generation) m ig h t have nothing o f re vo lu ­
tio n a ry value to say in the present— and rejected i t . 12

I t is a v u lg a r-M a rx is t illu sio n to [th in k one is] able to determ ine the social
function o f either m ental or m a te ria list products by view ing the circu m ­
stances and carriers o f th e ir historical tra n sm issio n ^. . . ] W h a t speaks
against confronting in a sum m ary fashion the object o f the in q u iry , the
poet Baudelaire, w ith today’s society, and answering the question o f w hat
[ . . . ] he w ould have to say to its progressive cadres, in reply to a stock­
taking o f his works; w ith o u t (. . .), m in d you, proceeding to the question
o f w hether he has anyth in g to say to them at all? A c tu a lly , something
im p o rta n t speaks against this u n c ritic a l interrogation [ . . . ] the fact that
we are instructed in the reading o f Baudelaire precisely by bourgeois soci­
ety, and indeed, already long since not by its most progressive elements.13

I t is because o f the conservative w ay c u ltu re is tra n s m itte d in h is­

to ry th a t it has a re a ction ary effect: “ C u ltu re appears reified. Its
h is to ry then becomes n o th in g b u t the residue o f m e m o ra b ilia th a t
have been unearthed w ith o u t ever ente rin g in to hum an conscious­
ness th ro u g h any a uth en tic, th a t is, p o litic a l experience.” 14 T h e
purpose o f a m a te ria lis t education is to p ro vid e this p o litic a l experi­
ence, g iv in g the re v o lu tio n a ry class the stren gth to “ shake o f f ’
those c u ltu ra l treasures th a t are “ pile d up on h u m a n ity ’s back” —
“ so as to get its hands on th e m .” 15

[T h e historical researcher m ust] give up the tra n q u il, contem plative a tti­
tude tow ard the object in order to become conscious o f the c ritic a l con-
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Part I I I

stellation in w hich precisely this fragm ent o f the past is positioned w ith
regard to precisely this present.16

D ia le ctica l images as “ c ritic a l conste lla tion s” o f past and present

are at the center o f m a te ria lis t pedagogy. S h o rt-c irc u itin g the
bourgeois h is to ric a l-lite ra ry apparatus, they pass d ow n a tra d itio n
o f ^ c o n tin u ity . I f a ll h is to ric a l c o n tin u ity is “ th a t o f the op­
pressors,” 17 this tra d itio n is composed o f those “ rou gh and jagged
places” at w h ich the c o n tin u ity o f tra d itio n breaks dow n, and the
objects reveal “ cracks” p ro v id in g “ a hold fo r anyone w is h in g to get
beyond these points.” 18 I t is “ the tra d itio n o f new beginnings,’ ” 19
and it corresponds to the u nd ersta nd in g th a t “ the classless soci­
ety is n o t the fin a l goal o f progress in h isto ry, b u t its so fre q u e n tly
unsuccessful, yet u ltim a te ly accom plished in te rru p tio n .” 20
As early as One Way Street, B e n ja m in m ade clear the connection
between co gnitive images and re v o lu tio n a ry praxis:

O n ly images in the m in d vita lize the w ill. T he mere w ord, by contrast,

at most inflames it, to leave it sm oldering, blasted. There is no in ta ct
w ill w ith o u t exact p ic to ria l im agination. N o im a gination w ith o u t
innervation.21

T h e w ill th a t counted fo r B e n ja m in was the collective, p o litic a l w ill

o f the p ro le ta ria t, and its m o tiv a tio n was m o b ilize d by lo o k in g
b ackw ard. T h e h is to ria n w ho constructed d ia le c tic a l images drew ,
u n a vo id a b ly, on c u ltu ra l m a te ria l produced by the bourgeoisie, ex­
pressing the experience o f this class. Y e t B audelaire a c tu a lly had
m ore o f re v o lu tio n a ry significance to “ teach” readers abo ut the
present th an w rite rs like Pierre D u p o n t or V ic to r H u g o w ho had
g lo rifie d the w o rke r in th e ir w ritin g s . B e n ja m in c ritic iz e d as ro m a n ­
ticism “ the o ld and fa ta l confusion— perhaps it begins^ w ith
Rousseau— ” w hereby the descrip tive te rm “ e d ify in g ” came to be
attached to the “ special s im p lic ity ” o f the life led by those “ dispos­
sessed and d o m in a te d .” 22 H e chided the present-day “ in te lle c tu a l”
w ho “ adopts a k in d o f m im ic ry o f p ro le ta ria n experience w ith o u t
thereby being in the least a llie d to the w o rk in g class.” 23 M o re c ru ­
cial was the k in d o f images he constructed: “ In tru th , it is fa r less a
m a tte r o f m aking the creative person o f bourgeois b ackground in to
a m aster o f ‘p ro le ta ria n a rt’ th an o f d e p lo ying h im [ . . . ] at im p o r­
ta n t points in this im age re a lm .” 24
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9 M aterialist Pedagogy

I t is inconceivable th a t in the Passagen-Werk B e nja m in d id n ot

in te n d to fu lfill w h a t these m a jo r essays (w ritte n in 1928, 1934,
1937, and 1940) define repeatedly as the task o f the p o litic a lly com ­
m itte d in te lle ctu a l. A n d in fact, Konvolut N makes e x p lic it reference
to the present, p o litic a l m eaning o f d ia le ctica l images, the construc­
tio n o f w h ic h is described as “ telescoping the past th ro u g h the
present” 25: “ I t is n o t th a t the past throw s its lig h t on the present,
o r the present its lig h t on the past, b u t [th e d ia le c tic a l] im age is
th a t w herein the past comes together w ith the present in a
c o n s te lla tio n .” 26 M oreo ver, the “ style fo r w h ic h one should a im ”
was accessible ra th e r th an esoteric, consisting o f “ ‘everyday w ords
[ . . . ] com m on language [ . . . ] fra n k style .’ ” 27
I f we take B e n ja m in at his w o rd , then those elements o f the
nineteenth ce ntu ry th a t he chose to record m ust be seen as h aving a
ve ry specific p o litic a l im p o rt fo r his ow n era. Such connections are
ra re ly e x p lic it in the Passagen-Werk, w here d ire c t references to the
co nte m p o ra ry w o rld are few. S till, we can, and indeed m ust assume
th e ir existence. Konvolut N leaves no d o u b t a bo ut it:

T he events surrounding the historian and in w hich he takes p a rt w ill

underlie his presentation like a text w ritte n in invisible ink. The history
that he lays before the reader gives form , so to speak, to the quotations in
this text; and only quotations shaped in this way lie before anyone and
everyone in a legible fashion.28

In o rd er to do the p o litics o f the Passagen-Werk ju s tic e , we need to

make visib le the invisible te xt o f present events th a t underlies it,
th a t fo r B e n ja m in ’s generation w o u ld have been “ leg ible ” fo r “ any­
one and everyone.”

[ . . .J ]u s t as G iedion teaches us we can read the basic features o f today’s

architecture out o f buildings o f the 1850s, so w ould we read today’s life,
today’s forms out o f the life {a n d } the apparently secondary, forgotten
forms o f th a t era.29

W e w ill expect “ to d a y’s life ” to pro vid e the answer to w h y Ben­

ja m in represented these phenom ena and n o t others in his “ U r-
h is to ry o f the 19th C e n tu ry .” A n d we w ill n o t be disappointed.
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Part I I I

T he appearance o f closed fa cticity th a t adheres to the philosophical inves­

tig a tio n and holds the researcher in its spell disappears to the degree th a t
the object is constructed in h istorical perspective. T he vanishing lines o f
this perspective converge in o u r own historical experience. I t is thereby
th a t the object constitutes its e lf as a monad. In the monad everything
becomes alive w hich as facts in a text lay in m yth ica l fixedness.30

B e n ja m in described the “ pedagogic” side o f his w o rk: “ ‘to educate

the im age-creating m ed iu m w ith in us to see d im e n sio n a lly, stereo-
scopically, in to the depths o f the historical shade.’ ” 31 A stereoscope,
th a t in s tru m e n t w h ich creates th ree-dim ensional images, w orks n ot
fro m one im age, b u t tw o. O n th e ir own, the n in ete e n th -ce n tu ry
facts collected by B e n ja m in are fla t, b o rd e rin g indeed on “ p o s itiv ­
is m ,” as A d o rn o com plained. I t is because they are o n ly h a lf the
text. T h e reader o f B e n ja m in ’s generation was to p ro vid e the o the r
h a lf o f the p ictu re fro m the fle etin g images o f his o r h er lived
experience.32 In the case o f the arcades, B e nja m in e x p lic itly evoked
these images. In the earliest Passagen-Werk notes (1927) he connects
the decaying arcades w ith a d escrip tio n o f the fashionable, new
ones on the Avenue des C ham ps Elysees, th a t were ju s t then h a vin g
th e ir gra nd opening:

In the Avenue Champs-Elysees among new hotels w ith Anglo-Saxon

names, arcades were opened recently as the newest Parisian passage. A
monstrous orchestra in u n ifo rm played at its opening among flowerbeds
and flow ing fountains. People groaned as they pressed together to cross
over the sandstone thresholds and pass along m irro re d walls; they viewed
a rtific ia l rain fa llin g on the copper innards o f the latest autom obiles as
p ro o f o f the q u a lity o f the m aterial, observed gears oscillating in o il, and
read on black placards in street letters the prices o f leather goods, gra­
mophone records, and em broidered kimonos. In the diffused lig h t that
came from above, they glided over tile floors. W h ile here a new passage­
w ay was prepared fo r fashionable Paris, one o f the oldest arcades in the
city disappeared, the Passage de TOpera, swallowed up when construc­
tio n o f the Boulevard Haussman broke through it. As was true o f this
rem arkable covered w alkw ay u n til recently, several arcades s till today, in
th e ir stark and gloom y comers, preserve history-become-space. O u t­
moded firm s m aintain themselves in these in te rio r rooms, and the com­
m o d ity display has an in d is tin c t, m u ltip le meaning [ . . . ] . 33
293

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

These o rig in a l arcades are “ the m old from w h ich the image o f ‘the
m o d e rn ’ is cast.” 34 W hen juxta p o se d to the d azzling co m m od ity
displays o f the present, they express the essence o f m odern h istory
as a rid d le : W here the arcades and th e ir contents rem ain m y th ic a l­
ly unchanged, h isto ry becomes visib le in them ; where they have
been superseded h is to ric a lly by new co m m o d ity phantasm agorias,
th e ir m y th ic fo rm lives on. Such ju x ta p o s itio n s o f past and present
u n d e rcu t the conte m p o ra ry phantasm agoria, b rin g in g to con­
sciousness the ra p id h a lf-life o f the u to p ia n elem ent in com m odities
and the relentless re p e titio n o f th e ir fo rm o f b etraya l: the same
prom ise, the same d isa pp oin tm en t. “ T h a t w h ich is ‘alw ays-again-
the-sam e’ is n ot the event, b u t the elem ent o f newness in it
[ . . . ] . ” 35 T h e te m p ora l d ia le ctic o f the new as the alw ays-the-
same, the h a llm a rk o f fashion, is the secret o f the m odern experi­
ence o f history. U n d e r ca pita lism , the m ost recent m yths are con­
tin u o u s ly superseded by new ones, and this means th a t newness
its e lf repeats m y th ic a lly .

T h e past haunts the present; b u t the la tte r denies it w ith good

reason. F o r on the surface, n o th in g rem ains the same. W o rld W a r I
was a tu rn in g p o in t in the fashions o f e verythin g fro m office b u ild ­
ings to w om en ’ s clothing , fro m p rin tin g type to c h ild re n ’s book
illu s tra tio n s (figures 9.2 to 9.16). B y the 1920s, in every one o f the
te chn ical arts, and in the fine arts affected by technology, the
change in style was to ta l. In G erm any, W a lte r G ro p iu s ’ Bauhaus
heralded this tra n s fo rm a tio n .36 In Paris, Le C o rb u s ie r’s w ork
epitom ized the fu n c tio n a l side o f the new style, w h ile Surrealism
signaled its reflection in the im a g in a tio n . B e n ja m in w rote: “ T o
em brace B reton and Le C orbusier. T h a t w o u ld m ean to span the
s p irit o f co nte m p o ra ry France like a bow o u t o f w h ic h know ledge
[o f the past] hits to the h ea rt o f the present.” 37 T h e Passagen-Werk
was to p ro vid e the h isto rica l data fo r such knowledge. B e nja m in
describes the o ld style:

I t understood liv in g as the encasing o f hum an beings, and embedded

them w ith a ll th e ir possessions so deeply w ith in it that one is rem inded o f
the in te rio r o f a compass case, where the in stru m e n t lies there w ith all its
294

Part I I I

9.2 Illu s tra tio n by G. A lboth , Germ an fairy tales, 1846 (top).

9.3 Illu s tra tio n by Theodor H errm ann, German children’s book, 1910 (bottom )
295_______________________

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

a lte rn a tiv e p a rts nestled, ty p ic a lly , in v io le t-c o lo re d ve lve t o r s a tin -lin e d

h o llo w s. I t is scarcely possible to d iscove r a n y th in g fo r w h ic h the
n in e te e n th c e n tu ry d id n o t in v e n t casings: fo r po cket watches, slippers,
egg cups, the rm o m eters, p la y in g cards— and in lie u o f casings, then
covers, ca rp e t ru n n e rs, lin in g s and slip co ve rs.38

O rn a m e n ta tio n was a kin d o f casing. I t w ill be recalled39 th a t in the

early, m y th ic stage o f technology, n ew ly processed iro n was used as
line ar, surface decoration to hide s tru c tu ra l form s. Its strength was
made to look like lace, as in the Eiffel T o w e r, o r in the om nipresent
w ro u g h t-iro n ra ilin g s on balconies and banisters (figure 9.4). T he
tw e n tie th -c e n tu ry stylistic re v o lu tio n changed a ll this. M asks, cas­
ings, and surface o rn a m e n ta tio n disappeared. F u n c tio n became
visible. T h e new se n sib ility penetrated the m ost h a b itu a l experi­
ences o f everyday life, and thereby in to the co llective unconscious.

9.4 In te rio r, G U M , Moscow departm ent store.

296

Part I I I

9.5 Nineteenth-century w indow bolt, Coudruc, Paris, 1851 (top).

9.6 Tw entieth-century doorknob, Le Corbusier, Frankfu rt am M a in , 1920s (bottom ).

297

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

9.7 E xh ib itio n H a ll, Paris, Gustav Eiffel, 1878 (top).

9.8 Bauhaus, Dessau, W alter Gropius, 1926 (bottom ).

298
Part I I I

9.9 C h a ir w ith velvet upholstery, August K itschelt, Vienna, 1851 (top).

9.10 W ork table, C. F. G rubb, Banbury, England, 1851 (bottom ).

299

9 M a te r ia lis t P eda gog y

9.11 V a ria n t o f the cantilever tu b u la r steel chair, M arcel Breuer, Bauhaus, 1928 (top).

9.12 Dism ountable chair, Josef Albers, Bauhaus, 1929 (bottom ).

300

P a rt I I I

9.13 N inctecnth-century in te rio r, Paris (Sarah B ernhardt at home).

301

9 M a te r ia lis t P edagogy

9.14 T w cn ticth -ccn tu ry inte rior, V illa Savoye, Poissy, France, Le Corbusier, 1929-31.
302

Part I I I

9.15 M a rtin Lewis, “ Shadow Dance,” 1930 (top).

9.16 Constantin Guys, “ Coquette,” 1850s (bottom ).

 303

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

E xte rio rs o f b u ild in g s were themselves casings. H ere the m odern

reversal o f aesthetic fo rm m ade a grand-scale visual difference
(figures 9.7 and 9.8). “ T h e tw e n tie th ce ntu ry, w ith its porosity,
transparency, lig h t and free a ir m ade an end to liv in g in the old
sense. ” 40
I t is in ju x ta p o s itio n to the villa s b u ilt by Le C orbu sier th a t im ­
ages o f n in etee nth-cen tu ry in te rio rs take on the force o f d ia lectica l
extremes. T h e la tte r m ade a d is tin c t separation between p u b lic
space and liv in g space. In te rio rs were closed off, draped and dark,
m usty, and, above a ll, p riva te (figure 9.11). Le C o rb u s ie r’s villa s
broke d e fin itiv e ly o ut in to the open a ir, and “ p riv a c y ” became old-
fashioned (figure 9.12). U n d e r the glass roofs o f the last century,
flow ers and w hole gardens were transposed indoors. In contrast:
“ T o d a y the slogan is n ot transposing, b u t transparency.
(C o rb u s ie r!)” 41
W o m e n ’s clo th in g , w h ic h had also been a casing (o f corsets, c ri­
nolines, bustles, and tra in s ), became as a iry as in te rio rs (figure
9.15). E ro tic fashion changed w ith it. B e n ja m in notes: “ T h e corset
as the passage o f the torso. W h a t to da y is com m on among cheap
p ro stitu te s— n o t to take o ff th e ir clothes— seems at th a t tim e to
have been true o f the m ost elegant ones.” 42

Necessity o f a theory o f history from w hich fascism can become visible.43

T he experience o f o ur generation: T h a t capitalism w ill die no n atural

death.44

In the early stages o f the Passagen-Werk (19 27 -3 3) this s ty lis tic

re v o lu tio n was a rg u a b ly B e n ja m in ’ s ce ntral concern.45 H e affirm ed
the new, m od ernist aesthetics fo r the transparency o f its “ social
c o n te n t” as w ell as social fu n c tio n .46 D u rin g the p o te n tia l charged
years o f the late tw enties, w hen ca p ita lism was in crisis and social
unrest had n o t yet congealed in to rea ction ary o r fascist form s, Ben­
ja m in seems to have seen the change in c u ltu ra l form s as a n tic ip a ­
to ry , illu m in a tin g the trem endous social(ist) p o te n tia l o f the new
/Vjature, and he believed it therefore to be p o litic a lly in s tru c tiv e .47
As a precursor F o u rie r had p a rtic u la r relevance. H e adopted the
304

Part I I I

arcades b u ild in g style in his “ phalansteries,” as the firs t v isio n o f

p u b lic housing— w ith the galleries as a connecting w a lkw a y (“ rue-
galerie ” 48) o f p u b lic space. A n d i t was F o u rie r whose w ild e st
im a gin ing s (rid ic u le d in his ow n tim e) were p ro p h e tic o f the
telegraph,49 ra d io ,50 even television51— n o t to m en tion satellites52
and space tra v e l!53
As long as the “ present” s till had re v o lu tio n a ry p o te n tia l, Ben­
ja m in could conceive o f it p o s itiv e ly — indeed, te leo lo gica lly— as
“ the w a kin g w o rld to w a rd w h ich the past was d re a m in g .” 54 B u t
events o f the th irtie s drew the past in to q uite d ifferent constella­
tions. P a rtic u la rly after 1937,55 the images recorded in the Konvoluts
have a less u to p ia n luster. R a th e r than being “ a n tic ip a to ry o f a
m ore hum ane fu tu re ,” 56 they flash o u t in the present as u rg en t
w arnings, images fa r less o f new p o litic a l possibilities th an o f re c u r­
rin g p o litic a l dangers.
In d ic a tiv e o f this change are B e n ja m in ’s comm ents on the fig ure
o f the fla ne ur, the n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry stro lle r on the c ity streets
w ho was the o rig in o f B e n ja m in ’s own class o f lite ra ry producers,
and the “ u r-fo rm ” o f the m odern in te lle ctu a l. T h e fla n e u r’ s object
o f in q u iry is m o d e rn ity itself. U n lik e the academ ic w ho reflects in
his room , he w alks the streets and “ studies” the crow d. A t the same
tim e, his econom ic base shifts d ra stica lly, no longer protected by
the academ ic’s m a n d a rin status. As a specific h is to ric a l fig ure,
B a udelaire embodies the q u a litie s o f the flaneur. Indeed, his acute
awareness o f his h ig h ly a m b iva le n t s itu a tio n — at once socia lly re­
bellious bohem ian and p ro du cer o f com m odities fo r the lite ra ry
m a rk e t— is precisely w h a t accounts fo r B a ud e la ire ’s a b ility to
“ teach” B e n ja m in ’s generation o f in te lle ctu a l producers a b o u t
th e ir own o bjective circum stances, in w h ich th e ir interests in fa ct
converge w ith those o f the p ro le ta ria t.
I n the late 1920s, B e n ja m in seems to have affirm ed this p u b lic
o rie n ta tio n o f the fla n e u r, as w e ll as the p u b lic spaces o f the c ity
and the crow d th a t moves th ro u g h them . A n early (1 9 2 7 -2 9 )
Passagen-Werk note begins w ith the fo rm u la tio n :

Streets are the dw ellin g place o f the collective. T he collective is an eternal­

ly restless, eternally m oving essence that, among the facades o f b uildings
endures (erlebt), experiences (erjakrt), learns, and senses as m uch as in d i­
viduals in the protection o f th e ir four walls. For this collective the shiny
enameled store signs are as good and even better a w a ll decoration as a
305

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

9.17 Charles Fourier, phalanstery, conceived 1808 (draw ing, 1844) (top).

9.18 Le Corbusier, “ D o m in o " housing project, plan, 1915 (bottom ).

salon o il p a in tin g is fo r the bourgeoisie. W a lls w ith the “ defense d ’afficher”

are its w r itin g desk, newspapers are its lib ra rie s , le tte rb oxe s its bronzes,
benches its b e d ro o m fu rn itu re — and cafe terraces the b a lco ny fro m w h ic h
i t looks d o w n on its dom estic concerns a fte r w o rk is do ne .57

T h e same passage appears in B e n ja m in ’s 1929 review o f F ranz

H essel’s book Spazieren in B e rlin , except th a t the subject (w ho s till
has B e n ja m in ’s a pp ro val) is n o t the K o lle ktiv, b u t “ the masses [die
Masse] — and the fla n e u r lives w ith them [ . . . ] . ” 58 B y the tim e o f
the firs t B a udelaire essay (1938), how ever, th is m o tif has u nd er­
gone a sig n ifica n t change. T h e fla n e u r alone is depicted on the
streets (w ith o u t sleeping on its benches) and the w alls are now his
desk, against w h ich he “ presses his notebooks.” T h e passage has a
new conclusion:

T h a t life in a ll its m u ltip lic ity and in e x h a u s tib le w e a lth o f v a ria tio n s can
th riv e o n ly a m o ng the grey cobblestones and, above a ll, against the grey
b a c k g ro u n d o f de spo tism — this, p o litic a lly , stood in the b a ckg ro u n d o f
those w ritin g s, o f w h ich the physiologies [w ritte n by flaneurs] were a p a rt.59

T h e tone o f this version is clearly c ritic a l, and it functions as a

w a rn in g to the in te lle c tu a l “ fla ne urs” o f his own era. B e nja m in
306

Part I I I

describes the m o re m o d e rn fo rm s o f th is so cia l ty p e : T h e re p o rte r, a

fla n e u r-b e c o m e -d e te c tiv e , covers th e b e a t60; th e p h o to jo u rn a lis t
hangs a b o u t lik e a h u n te r re a d y to s h o o t.61 T h e la te r e n trie s
em phasize th a t th e fla n e u r is n o t t r u ly a p e rso n o f le is u re (Musse) .
R a th e r, lo ite rin g ( M iissigang) is his tra d e . H e is th e p ro to ty p e o f a
n e w fo rm o f sa la rie d e m p lo y e e w h o p ro d u ce s n e w s /lite ra tu re /
a d v e rtis e m e n ts fo r th e p u rp o s e o f in fo r m a tio n /e n te r ta in m e n t/
p e rs u a s io n — these fo rm s are n o t c le a rly d is tin g u is h e d . P o sin g as
a re p o rte r o f th e tru e c o n d itio n s o f u rb a n life , he in fa c t d iv e rts
his a u d ien ce fro m its te d iu m .62 H is m a ss -m a rk e te d p ro d u c ts f i l l
th e “ e m p ty ” h o u rs th a t tim e o ff fro m w o rk has becom e in th e
m o d e rn c ity . A t the sam e tim e , th e fla n e u r as b o h e m ia n h im s e lf
becom es a cafe a ttra c tio n . V ie w e d b y th e p u b lic w h ile he “ w o rk s ”
a t lo ite rin g ,63 he “ takes th e c o n c e p t o f b e in g -fo r-s a le its e lf fo r a
w a lk . J u s t as th e d e p a rtm e n t sto re is his la s t h a u n t, so h is la s t
in c a rn a tio n is as s a n d w ic h m a n .” 64
T h e s a n d w ic h m a n (fig u re 9 .19) is p a id to a d v e rtis e th e a ttra c -

9.19 Sandwichman, Paris, 1936.

307

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

tions o f mass cu ltu re . T h e c u ltu ra l p roducer, s im ila rly , p ro fits by

p e d d lin g the ideological fashion. B e n ja m in m entions as the “ true
salaried fla n e u r” and “ sa nd w ich m a n ” H e n ri B e rau d,65 protofascist
jo u rn a lis t fo r Gringoire, whose n a tio n a lis t and a n ti-S e m itic attack
on Roger Salengro, Leon B lu m ’ s m in is te r o f the in te rio r, led the
la tte r to suicide. Benjam in comments th a t intim atio n s o f such p o lit­
ics could already be found in B audelaire, whose d ia ry contained
the “ jo k e ” : “ ‘A lo v e ly conspiracy could be organized w ith the goal
o f e x te rm in a tin g the Jew ish race.’ ” 66 L ik e a sandw ichm an, the
fin a n c ia lly successful Beraud peddled the fascist line, w hich
cam ouflaged class antagonism s by d isp la cin g h o s tility onto the
Jew ish “ race,” a llo w in g the a ttack on the L e ft to be concealed
u nd er the ja rg o n o f p a trio tis m . In a late note, B e n ja m in makes the
association: “ F la n e u r— sa nd w ich m a n — jo u rn a lis t-in -u n ifo rm . T h e
la tte r advertises the state, no longer the c o m m o d ity .” 67
C le a rly, B e n ja m in ’ s view o f b oth the fla n e u r and the crow d had
changed:

I n fa ct th is “ c o lle c tiv e ” is n o th in g b u t illu s o ry appearance [Sckein]. T h is

“ c ro w d ” on w h ic h the fla n e u r feasts his eyes is the m o ld in to w h ic h , 70
years la te r, the “ Volksgemeinschaft” was p o ure d. T h e fla n e u r, w h o p rid e d
h im s e lf on his cleverness [ . . . ] was ahead o f his co n te m p o ra rie s in th is,
th a t he was the firs t to fa ll v ic tim to th a t w h ic h has since b lin d e d m a n y
m illio n s .68

B u t, even in the late 1930s, his view o f the p ro le ta ria t had n ot

changed:

T h e audience o f the the ater, an a rm y , the in h a b ita n ts o f a c ity [fo rm ] the

masses, w h ic h as such do n o t be lo ng to a p a rtic u la r class. T h e free m a rk e t
increases these masses ra p id ly [ . . . ] in th a t every c o m m o d ity collects
a ro u n d its e lf the mass o f its custom ers. T h e to ta lita ria n states d riv e every­
th in g o u t o f in d iv id u a ls th a t stands in the w a y o f th e ir com p le te a ssim ila ­
tio n in to a m assified cliente le. T h e o n ly u n re co n cile d o p p o n e n t [ . . . ] in
th is c o n n e ctio n is the re v o lu tio n a ry p ro le ta ria t. T h e la tte r destroys the
illu s io n o f the c ro w d (Schein der Masse) w ith the re a lity o f the class (Realitdt
derKlasse).69

T h e p re -1 8 4 8 era (the epoch o f the firs t arcades and F o u rie r70) had
p ro vid e d B e n ja m in w ith a ric h source o f images o f u to p ia n a n ti-
308

Part I I I

cip a tio n . B u t it was the p eriod o f the Second E m p ire th a t became

increasingly “ le g ib le ” 71 in the 1930s. N apoleon I I I was the firs t
bourgeois d ic ta to r72; H itle r was his present-day in c a rn a tio n . H itle r
advertised his rule as h is to ric a lly unique: “ ‘T h is happens only
once; it never comes a g a in .’ H itle r d id n ot assume the title o f Presi­
d en t o f the R eich; he had in view im pressing upon the people the
o ne -tim e-o nly n atu re o f his appearance’ ” 73— so B e n ja m in notes in
1934. N o t a ccid e n ta lly, M a r x ’s h isto ry o f N a p ole on ’s coup d ’ etat,
The 18th Brum aire, begins to be cited hea vily in the Passagen-Werk
entries. M a r x ’ s te xt showed th a t H itle r ’s fo rm u la fo r success was
not unique. L ou is N apoleon follow ed the coup w ith a ple biscite to
ju s tify his ille g a l d isso lu tio n o f the R e p u b lic.74 H itle r em ployed p re ­
cisely this ta ctic in A u g u s t 1934. W h a t concerns B e n ja m in is n ot
o n ly the p a ra lle l in p o litic a l strategy, b u t the p ro to ty p ic a l constella­
tio n o f elements th a t p ro vid e d the social cement o f the Second
E m p ire , in c lu d in g the use o f new technologies o f c u ltu ra l p ro d u c ­
tio n fo r the goal o f social co n tro l ra th e r th an lib e ra tio n . A 1936
e ntry to Konvolut d ( “ L ite ra ry H is to ry , H u g o ” ) cites a contem po­
ra ry French jo u rn a lis t:

“ A perspicacious ob serve r said one d a y th a t fascist I ta ly is m anaged like a

large new spaper, an d m ore ove r, b y a g re at pressm an: one id ea p e r da y,
c o m p e titio n , sen satio na lism , a d ro it an d in siste n t o rie n ta tio n o f the rea de r
to w a rd c e rta in d is p ro p o rtio n a te ly v u lg a r aspects o f social life , a system a­
tic d is to rtio n o f the re a d e r’s com p reh ension , in o rd e r to achieve c e rta in
p ra c tic a l ends. I n sum , fascist regim es are regim es o f p u b lic ity .” 73

T h a t same year B e n ja m in composed the A rtw o rk essay w h ic h

asserts the trem endous progressive p o te n tia l o f the mass com ­
m un ica tio ns m edia, an a rg um en t designed to fu n c tio n as a criticism
o f its present use. S im ila rly the Passagen-Werk connects M ic k e y
M ouse (a “ s ta r” in Paris cinem a in the th irtie s 76) w ith the fantasies
o f G ra n d v ille 77 and F o u rie r78 as precursors— and yet the notes to
the A rtw o rk essay acknowledge: “ the a p p lic a b ility o f D is n e y ’s
m ethods fo r fascism ” 79 (figu re 9.20).
Konvolut T on “ T ypes o f L ig h tin g ” records how o rig in a l projects
fo r c ity lig h tin g were based on the e ighteenth-century E n lig h te n ­
m e n t’ s “ ‘idea o f u niversa l illu m in a tio n ’ ” 80; b u t its re a c tio n a ry
p o te n tia l was a n ticip a te d as early as the 1830s: “ ‘ 1836 Jacques Fa-
bien publishes Paris en songe. H e develops here how e le c tric ity ,
309

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

9.20 M ickey Mouse decal on German weapon.

th ro u g h the overabundance o f lig h t, produces m u ltip le b lin d in g s,

and th ro u g h the tem po o f news sending brings on in s a n ity .’ ” 81 A
c e n tu ry la te r, urban illu m in a tio n ch a ra cte ristica lly obfuscated real­
ity , d azzling the masses ra th e r th an a id in g them in seeing clearly.
C o m m e rcia l lig h tin g tu rn e d shop facades in to fa iry scenes (figure
9.21). L ig h t advertisem ents created “ new types o f w ritin g ” 82
(figu re 9.22). T h e use o f lig h t bulbs in displays suggested an image
o f the fu n g ib ility o f mass m an: “ C om pa riso n o f h um an beings w ith
a c o n tro l panel on w h ich are thousands o f e lectric lig h t bulbs; firs t
these die out, then others lig h t themselves anew ” 83 (figu re 9.23).
H ere again, fascism was n o t an a lte rn a tive to co m m o d ity culture,
b u t a p p ro p ria te d its m ost sophisticated techniques— w h ile ro b b in g
them o f m a te ria l content: “ ‘ [A b s tr a c tio n fo r [ . . . ] m odern means
o f expression (lig h tin g , modes o f co nstructio n , etc.) can be dan ­
gerous” 84 (figu re 9.24).
Fascism appealed to the collective in its t/Tzconscious, d ream ing
state. I t m ade “ h isto rica l illu s io n a ll the m ore dazzling by assigning
310

Part I I I

9.21 L ig h tin g display, Grands Magazins du Louvre, Paris, 1920s (top). ^

9.22 A ux Galleries Lafayette: N ig h t display o f neon and electric lighting, Paris, 1930s
(bottom ).
3 H _________________________

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

9.23 German Solstice Festival in the B erlin Stadium, 1938 (top).

9.24 “ Dome o f Ligh ts,” Nazi P arty ra lly at Nuremberg, 1935 (bottom ).
312

Part I I I

to i t n a tu re as a h o m e la n d .” 85 F a r fro m “ ‘ c o m p e n s a tin g fo r th e
one-sided s p ir it o f th e tim e s ’ ” 86 (as J u n g had a rg u e d ), th is re a c tio n
was to ta lly p e rm e a te d b y it.
B e n ja m in asked th e q u e s tio n : “ S h o u ld i t be e m p a th y ( E in -
Juhlung) in exchange v a lu e w h ic h fir s t m akes p eo p le ca p a b le o f th e
to ta l Erlebnis [ o f fa s c is m ]? ” 87 T o th e eye th a t sh u ts its e lf w h e n faced
w ith th is experience [ o f th e “ in h o s p ita b le , b lin d in g age o f b ig -s c a le
in d u s tr ia lis m ” ] th e re a p p e a rs an exp e rie n ce o f c o m p le m e n ta ry n a ­
tu re as its a lm o s t s p o n ta n e o u s a fte rim a g e ” .88 F a scism w as th a t
a fte rim a g e . W h ile c o n d e m n in g th e c o n te n ts o f m o d e rn c u ltu re , i t
fo u n d in th e d re a m in g c o lle c tiv e cre a te d b y co n s u m e r c a p ita lis m a
re a d y -a t-h a n d re ce p ta c le fo r its o w n p o litic a l p h a n ta s m a g o ria . T h e
p s y c h ic p o ro s ity o f th e z/nawakened masses a b so rb e d th e staged ex­
tra va g a n za s o f mass m e e tin g s as re a d ily as i t d id mass c u ltu re .89
A n d i f th e s a n d w ic h m a n was th e la s t, d e g ra d e d in c a rn a tio n o f th e
fla n e u r, he h im s e lf u n d e rw e n t a fu r th e r m e ta m o rp h o s is (fig u re
9.25).

9.25 M u nich, 1933: “ I am a Jew, bu t I have no com plaints about the N azis.”
31 3 _________________________

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

A n e a rly Passagen-Werk e n try cites L e C o rb u s ie r’ s c ritic is m s o f the

u rb a n p ro je c ts o f H a u s s m a n n d u r in g th e S econd E m p ire : “ ‘T h e
w o rk s o f H a u s s m a n n w e re a ll a r b itr a r y : T h e y w ere n o t th e rig o ro u s
c o n clu sio n s o f u rb a n is m . T h e y w e re th e m easures o f a fin a n c ia l and
m ilit a r y o rd e r .” ’90 L a te r e n trie s e m p h a size h o w H a u s s m a n n ’s p u b ­
lic w o rk s p ro g ra m s d re w p o litic a l s u p p o rt fo r th e state, c o n tro lle d
la b o r th ro u g h state e m p lo y m e n t, a n d e c o n o m ic a lly b e n e fite d th e
c a p ita lis t class.91 P a ra lle ls to th e a m b itio u s p la n s fo r p u b lic w o rk s
p ro je c ts in H it le r ’ s G e rm a n y (o r B lu m ’s F ra n c e , o r R o o s e v e lt’s
U n ite d S tates92) c o u ld n o t have gone u n re c o g n iz e d b y readers in
th e th irtie s (fig u re 9 .2 6 ).
B e n ja m in m ade n o te o f an e n g ra v in g o f a re g im e n t o f so ld ie rs
u n d e r N a p o le o n I w h o becam e a “ re g im e n t o f w o rk e rs ” d u rin g the
R e s to ra tio n .93 I n H it le r ’ s G e rm a n y , i t w as a lre a d y p o ssible to a n ti­
c ip a te th a t th e stages w o u ld be reversed (fig u re 9 .2 7 ).

9.26 A rm y o f unemployed as construction workers for the Frankfu rt Autobahn.

314

Part I I I

HITLER „LdST“ DIE ARBEITSLOSENFRAGE

DEUTSCHE SOLDATEN!
Wollt Ihr dieses Schicksal nicht, dann kommt heruber
nacti dem Russland der Arbeiter und Bayern!

9.27 “ H itle r ‘solves’ the unem ploym ent problem : German workers! I f you don’ t w ant this
to be your fate, come over to the side o f the Russian workers and peasants!” — C om m unist
poster x
315_______________________

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

9.28 (T op) M odel o f the renovation o f B erlin, structured along two monumental
avenues, ru nning north and south, and east and west.

9.29 (B ottom ) M odel o f the “ People’s H a ll,” planned as a German Pantheon glorifying
H itle r, designed by A lbrech t Speer as the centerpiece o f H itle r’s renovation o f B erlin.
316

Part I I I

I f th e predecessor o f H a u s s m a n n was less th e so cia l d re a m e r

F o u rie r th a n th e te c h n o c ra tic p la n n e r S a in t-S im o n ,94 his m o s t self-
conscious successors w e re u rb a n a rc h ite c ts lik e R o b e rt M o se s, N e w
Y o r k ’s c o m m is s io n e r o f b u ild in g s w h o m a d e use o f N e w D e a l fu n d s
to d e m o lis h la rg e sections o f the c ity w it h th e p h ilo s o p h y : “ W h e n
y o u o p e ra te in an o v e r b u ilt m e tro p o lis , y o u have to h a c k y o u r w a y
w it h a m e a t a xe ” 95— o r lik e A lb r e c h t Speer, w h o w as p u t in ch a rg e
o f a colossal r e b u ild in g p ro je c t fo r B e rlin w h ic h , e m p lo y in g a n e o ­
classical s ty le ,96 w as to m a n ife s t th e T h ir d R e ic h ’ s Im p e r ia l g ra n ­
d e u r (fig u re s 9.28 a n d 9 .2 9 ). B e n ja m in w ro te : “ E m p ire s ty le is th e
s tyle o f r e v o lu tio n a ry te rro ris m , fo r w h ic h th e sta te is a n en d in
its e lf.” 97
I t is im p o r ta n t th a t B e n ja m in ’s d a ta m a ke i t p o ssib le to d is tin ­
guish betw een a n o sta lg ic, conservative o p p o s itio n to d e m o litio n s in
g e n e ra l (w h ic h he d id n o t e n d o rse ), a n d a s p e c ific c ritic is m o f th e
p o litic a l a n d e c o n o m ic in te re s ts th a t g u id e those d e s tru c tio n s . B e n ­
ja m in d id n o t c ritic iz e th e P a ris C o m m u n a rd s fo r th e d a m a g e to
P aris caused b y th e ir in c e n d ia ry re v o lt (fig u re 9 .3 0 ), b u t ra th e r, fo r
th e ir fa lse ly e q u a tin g th e c ity ’ s d e s tru c tio n w it h th a t o f th e s o c ia l
o rd e r.98 F o r h im th e p o litic a l ch o ice was n o t be tw e e n h is to r ic a lly
p re s e rv in g P aris a n d m o d e rn iz in g it, b u t betw e e n d e s tru c tio n o f th e

9.30 B urn in g o f Paris by the Comm unards, 1871.

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9 M aterialist Pedagogy

h is to ric a l reco rd — w h ich alone makes re vo lu tio n a ry consciousness

possible— and d estructio n in rem em brance o f this record. In short,
it was a choice between o b lite ra tin g the past, or a c tu a liz in g it.
I f the Passagen-Werk entries can be seen to dem onstrate a change
in B e n ja m in ’s p osition over tim e, i t is less one o f increasing d is illu ­
sionm ent as to the socialist p o te n tia l o f m odern “ n a tu re ,” than o f
increasing awareness as to the ways th a t p o te n tia l could be syste­
m a tic a lly d istorted b y those in p o w e r ." W h a t had “ progressed” in
u rb a n renew al were the te chn ical capacities fo r destructio n :
“ [A ]lo n g w ith the g ro w th o f the b ig cities there developed the
means o f ra zin g them to the g ro un d. W h a t visions o f the fu tu re are
evoked by th is !” 100 T h is developm ent benefited the state, not those
in re v o lt against it. In an early e ntry, B e n ja m in cited Le C orbusier,
w ho fo un d it “ re m arkab le ” th a t H au ssm a n n ’s enorm ously exten­
sive d em olition s were accom plished by the m ost p rim itiv e o f tools:
“ V e ry im p o rta n t: ‘T h e tools o f H a u ssm a n n,’ illu s tra tio n in Le
C orbu sier, Urbanisme, p. 150. T h e various spars, pickaxes, carts,
etc.” 101 (figu re 9.31).
“ In 1830, the populace used rope to barricade the streets,” 102
and th re w chairs o u t o f w ind ow s to stop the gove rn m e nt’ s
so ld iers.103 In B e n ja m in ’s tim e, technological advances m ade re­
sistance to the state fa r m ore precarious:

“ Today war in the streets has its technics: it was perfected after the recap­
ture o f M unich by armed combat, in a curious little work published con­
fidentially, w ith great secrecy by the government o f Berlin. You no longer
advance on the streets, you let them remain empty. You tramp into the
interiors, piercing through the walls. As soon as you are master o f a street,
you organize it; the telephone unrolls across the gaps of the walls o f de­
fense; meanwhile, in order to avoid a return o f the adversary, you mine the
conquered territory immediately. . . . One development that is most clear
is that you w ill no longer be at all burdened w ith sparing buildings or
lives. Alongside the civil wars o f the future, the [construction o f barricades
on the] rue Transnonnain w ill appear a n . . . innocent and archaic
incident.” 104

T h a t w a rn in g , w ritte n in 1926, was recorded by B e nja m in in the

Passagen-Werk before 1935, w ith a cross-reference to H aussm ann.
Several years la te r B e n ja m in observed: “ H aussm ann’s a c tiv ity is
today accom plished by very differen t means, as the Spanish C iv il
W a r dem onstrates” 105 (figu re 9.32).
318
Part I I I

Les moycns (THaussmann.

9.31 Haussm ann’s tools, from L c C orbusier, Urbanisme, 1931.

3 1 9 _________________________

9 M a te r ia lis t P edagogy

9.32 Spanish C iv il W ar: Bomb exploding on M a d rid street, 1936:

.8

Every historical perception can be visualized as a scale, the one side of

which is weighted down w ith the past, the other w ith the perception o f the
present. Whereas the facts collected in the former cannot be too insig­
nificant or numerous enough, those on the other side should be only a few
heavy, massive weights.106

“ The dignity o f a person demands that one submit one’s concepts to these
[. . . ] single and prim ordial facts: that the police face the workers w ith
cannons, that there is the threat of a war, and fascism already reigns
[ ]” 107

In F e b ru a ry 1934, as the effects o f the econom ic Depression in ­

tensified, street dem onstrations broke out in Paris. T h e strongest
p ro test came fro m the R ig h t; the French p a rlia m e n t felt its e lf
threatened w ith a fascist Putsch. B e nja m in observed the events
fro m his hotel, w h ic h was located on the B oulevard S a int-G e rm a in
320

Part I I I

in the th ic k o f the d istu rb a n ce s.108 A t the tim e, in connection w ith

his planned a rticle on H a u ssm a n n ,109 he was rea din g “ an excellent
h is to ry o f P aris” th a t d re w h im “ fu lly in to the tra d itio n o f these
struggles and d isturba nce s.” 110 In fact, he was le a rn in g th a t since
the co nstructio n o f H a u ssm a n n ’s boulevards (o f w h ic h S a in t-G e r­
m ain was one), b arrica d e fig h tin g had become obsolete as re v o lu ­
tio n a ry p ra x is .111 T o believe th a t such street co nfron ta tion s could
o v e rtu rn a state arm ed w ith m odern w eaponry was to succum b to a
re v o lu tio n a ry ro m a n tic is m and nostalgia th a t a lready in the
n ineteenth ce n tu ry had proven fa ta l.112 Perhaps it was his research
th a t led B e n ja m in , u n lik e the F rench L e ft generally, to believe in
F eb rua ry 1934 th a t “ the present m ovem ents w o u ld n o t m a te ria liz e
in to a n y th in g .” 113
T h e events o f F e b ru a ry u n ifie d the L e ft, w h ich feared fascism as
the greatest danger. B u t B e n ja m in saw danger as w e ll in the n atu re
o f the L e ft’s p o litic a l response. T h e C o m m u n is t P a rty jo in e d
Socialists and others to “ save the R e p u b lic ,” o rg a n izin g a P o p u la r
F ro n t against fascism. T h e F ro n t’s p ro gram com bined w o rk e rs ’ de­
m ands w ith p a trio tic lo y a lty to the state. Its firs t great success was
to organize a d e m o n stra tio n o f hundreds o f thousands on J u ly 14,
1935, co m m em ora ting the G rea t (bourgeois) R e v o lu tio n as a re p e ti­
tive, p a trio tic c u lt.114 L ed by the Socialist Leon B lu m , the P o p u la r
F ro n t w on the n a tio n a l elections the fo llo w in g year. B u t at this
p o in t som ething happened th a t the L e ft leadership had n o t fore­
seen. In M a y , s h o rtly a fte r the elections, in one a fter a no the r o f the
factories in the suburbs o f Paris, w orkers spontaneously staged sit-
d ow n strikes, in d ic a tin g th a t they w o u ld not be co nte nt i f the P opu­
la r F ro n t co ntin ue d gove rn m e ntal business as usual. T h e s trik e rs ’
m ood was festive and ju b ila n t, b u t the th re a t o f re v o lu tio n
appeared no less re a l.115 C o m m u n ist and Socialist tra d e -u n io n and
p a rty leadership refused to jo in the strikers; instead they ham m ered
o u t an accord w ith frig h te n e d business leaders, w ho were w illin g to
m ake concessions to w orkers so long as p ro p e rty relations rem ained
unchanged. B u t the strikes continued even after these “ M a tig n o n
agreements” were signed, spreading to the b ig d e p a rtm e n t stores,
cafe’s, restaurants, and hotels. B y June, one and a h a lf m illio n
w orkers in Paris were on strike. Leon T ro ts k y p ro c la im e d fro m
exile: “ ‘T h e F rench R e vo lu tio n has b e g u n .. . .T h ese are n o t ju s t
strikes, this is the s tr ik e . . . . ” ’ 116 S till, the F rench C o m m u n is t
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P a rty leaders held fast to the C o m in te rn p o lic y o f the P opu lar

F ro n t. B lu m ’s governm ent seized the T ro ts k y ite new spaper th a t
had p ub lish e d T ro ts k y ’s ca ll fo r F rench re v o lu tio n a ry soviets, and
(in a re p e titio n o f 1848 and 1871) prepared the gardes mobiles fo r
a dva ncing in to Paris should it be necessary. In the end the strikers
c a p itu la te d and bloodshed was avoided. B lu m was given a free
hand to realize his program s, w h ic h p u t socialist goals aside in the
nam e o f n a tio n a l u n ity , and fo r the sake o f econom ic recovery.
B e n ja m in ’ s p ublished correspondence is silen t on the Ju ne
s trik e s.117 H e m ig h t have despaired o f th e ir lack o f clear d ire c tio n
and th e ir tra d e -u n io n ist dem ands. B u t he w o u ld have supported
sit-d o w n strikes th a t in te rru p te d the course o f things, and he w o u ld
have deduced from the strikes’ d u ra tio n , despite the lack o f leaders,
th a t w orking-class consciousness s till possessed a re v o lu tio n a ry
p o te n tia l.118 In his speech, “ T h e A u th o r as P ro du cer,” composed
d u rin g the c ritic a l year 1934, he emphasized the re s p o n s ib ility o f
in te lle ctu a ls and lite ra ry w rite rs w ith regard to the task o f p o litic a l
education. A t the same tim e, he began n o tin g in the Konvoluts how
m uch p o litic a l m ueducation had been p ro vid e d by nineteenth-
c e n tu ry w rite rs — L a m a rtin e , fo r exam ple, whose n a tio n a lis t senti­
m ent and preference fo r social o rd e r over social ju s tic e was p ro to ty ­
pical. Indeed: “ L a m a rtin e ’s p o litic a l-p o e tic a l p ro g ra m ” was “ the
m odel o f to d a y’s fascist one.” 119 B e n ja m in ’s d isa pp rova l o f the
P o p u la r F ro n t was expressed in a J u ly 1937 letter: “ T h e y a ll c lin g
solely to the fetish o f the ‘le ft’ m a jo rity , and they are n ot concerned
th a t th is m a jo rity executes a k in d o f p o litics w hich , i f it was being
done b y the R ig h t, w o u ld lead to in s u rre c tio n .” 120
T h e P o p u la r F ro n t claim ed n a tio n a l u n ity could override class
differences. I t argued th a t recovery o f the ca p ita lis t econom y w o u ld
benefit w orkers by p ro v id in g jo b s , com m odities, and the wages to
buy them . I t passed laws fo r w o rke r benefits ra th e r th an w o rk e r
ow n ersh ip , and secured fo r the firs t tim e p aid vacations fo r French
w orkers. In contrast, B e n ja m in notes th a t in the u top ian c o m m u n i­
ties conceived by F o u rie r in the 1820s, the “ harm onists n e ith e r
kn ow o f vacations n o r w ish fo r th e m .” 121 B lu m was an a d m ire r o f
F ra n k lin Roosevelt and m odeled his policies a fte r the N ew Deal. In
fact, H id e r ’s regim e also had the goal o f increasing consum ption by
increasing e m p lo ym e n t122 (and G erm an w orkers under fascism
were the firs t to receive the benefit o f p aid va catio ns123). W h a t Ben-
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Part I I I

ja m in ’s research was u nco vering was ju s t how fa m ilia r this p o litic a l

fo rm u la o f n a tio n a l u n ity , p a trio tis m , and consum erism was in h is­
to ry, and how it in e v ita b ly resulted in the b etraya l o f the w o rk in g
class.

“ The phrase that corresponded to this fantasized transcendence o f class

relations [in the 1848 revolution] was/ratermte'.” 124

T h e u r-fo rm o f P o p u la r F ro n t p o litics can be found at the b ir th o f

in d u s tria l ca p ita lism in the social theories o f S a in t-S im o n .125 T h e
decisive p o litic a l ch ara cte ristic o f this early n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry
th in k e r was the conception o f w orkers and ca pita lists as a single
“ ‘in d u s tria l class,’ ” and an insistence th a t the ‘ “ interests o f the
directors o f in d u s tria l businesses was a ctu a lly in accord w ith those
o f the masses o f people,’ ” so th a t the pro ble m o f social antagonism s
could be resolved by ‘ “ a peaceful erection o f the new social
system .’ ” 126 In a reaction th a t paralleled th a t o f B lu m ’s P o p u la r
F ro n t d u rin g the Paris strikes o f Ju ne 1936, T h e S a in t-S im o n ia n
new spaper Le Globe opposed the w o rke r u p ris in g in Lyons in 1831,
fearing th a t “ a raise in wages m ig h t place the in d u s try there in
je o p a rd y .’ ” 127 T h e S a in t-S im o n ia n so lu tion to w o rkers’ problem s
involved the in te rv e n tio n o f the state in term s o f social le g isla tio n
and a ce rta in level o f planned econom y. C a p ita lis m was relied upon
to d e live r te chnological in n o v a tio n , as w ell as consum er goods th a t
im p ro ve d the q u a lity o f life o f the w o rk in g class. In short, S aint-
S im on ian ism p re figu re d state ca p ita lism in its le ftis t (P o p u la r
F ro n t and N ew D eal) as w e ll as rig h tis t (n a tio n a l-so cia list) form s:

“ The major task o f an industrial system was to be the setting up o f

a . . . work plan which was to be executed by the society. . .
B u t. . . [Saint-Simon’s] ideal was closer in meaning to state capitalism
than to socialism. W ith Saint-Simon there is no talk o f elim inating private
property, o f expropriation. The state subsumes the activities o f the indus­
trialists under a general plan only to a certain degree. . . .” 128

W hen B e n ja m in com m ented c ritic a lly on the S a in t-S im o n ia n fa ith

in technological progress, w hereby class co n flic t was denied and
w ished a w a y,129 he was in d ire c tly a tta ckin g the p re v a ilin g p o litic s
o f his ow n tim e.
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W o rld expositions, those p o p u la r phantasm agorias o f p a trio tis m

and consum erism th a t g lo rifie d c a p ita lis m ’s technological progress,
p ro vid e d a perfect vehicle o f expression fo r S a int-S im on ian ideolo­
gy. As we have seen, B e n ja m in docum ents this connection clearly
in the Passagen-Werk e n trie s,130 and devotes considerable space to
the n in etee nth-cen tu ry expositions themselves. In this case, the
p arallels w ith his ow n tim e are as s trik in g as the fact th a t in the
Passagen-Werk they are never m ade e xp lic it. N ow here does Ben­
ja m in so m uch as m en tion w h a t were the m ost obvious o f ‘ ‘present”
images th a t entered in to a constellation w ith the ur-form s o f the
nineteenth century. T h is silence, fa r from re fu tin g contem porary
connections, in fact supports the claim th a t the present u nd erlay
the p ro je ct ve ry lite ra lly , even i f “ w ritte n in in v is ib le in k .” F o r no
one in E urope (or the U n ite d States) could have lived th ro u g h the
decade o f the th irtie s w ith o u t being aware th a t in te rn a tio n a l ex­
positions, h a vin g become less freq ue n t after W o rld W a r I, suddenly
came back w ith a vengeance d u rin g these Depression years. T h e y
were seen as a means o f enhancing business, creating jo b s fo r the
unem ployed, and p ro v id in g state-subsidized, mass e nte rta in m e n t
th a t was at the same tim e p u b lic “ e du ca tio n .” M a jo r expositions
occurred alm ost yearly:

S tockholm 1930
Paris 1931
C hicago 1933
Brussels 1935
Paris 1937
G lascow 1938
N ew Y o rk 1939
San Francisco 1939

T h e “ C o lo n ia l E x p o s itio n ,” held in Paris in 1931, e xhibited not

o n ly the com m odities b u t the people o f the French colonies as e x o ti­
ca on d isplay. B reton, E lu a rd , A ra g o n , and o the r members o f the
S u rre alist m ovem ent urged a b oyco tt o f this exposition because it
was racist and im p e ria lis t, ju s tify in g the “ m illio n s o f new slaves”
created by co lo nia lism and the d estructio n o f non-W estern c u l­
tures in the nam e o f progress, and because the n a tio n a lis t senti-
324

Part I I I

m ent i t encouraged u nd erm in ed in te rn a tio n a l s o lid a rity .131 T h e

1937 exposition in Paris, announced years in advance, was to be a
u n ity o f a rtists and technology, artisans and in d u s try — a “ g ra nd ,
peaceful” d e m o n stra tio n o f nations w h ich , despite th e ir c o m p e ti­
tio n , co n trib u te d to the peaceful progress o f h u m a n ity .132 I t g lo r­
ified the latest “ advances” in technology, w h ich inclu de d th is tim e
n o t o nly ra d io , cinem a, television, phonographs, e le c tric ity , gas,
and a ir trave l, b u t also biogenetics, x-ra y technology and the new,
w onder in su la tio n , asbestos.133 T h is exposition, planned lo n g be­
fore the 1936 n a tio n a l elections, suited p erfectly the ideology o f the
P o p u la r F ro n t. Leon B lu m presided over its opening ceremonies,
w h ic h were delayed b y a strike o f those co n stru ctin g the e x h ib itio n
as the “ last gasp” o f the w orkers’ autonom ous m o ve m e n t.134 T h e
fa ir ’s “ A venue de la P a ix” was flanked by the p a vilio n s o f G e rm a ny
and the U S S R (figu re 9 .33 135). In tw o years these countries w o u ld
sign a N on-A ggression Pact; in fo ur, they w o u ld be at w a r. N o w
they faced each o th e r at T ro ca de ro , A lb re c h t Speer’s neoclassical
design co m p le m en ting th a t o f the Soviet P a vilio n , despite efforts on
both sides to d istin g u ish between them .
In lig h t o f B e n ja m in ’s search fo r u r-fo rm s, the 1937 e x p o sitio n ’s
P a vilio n o f S o lid a rity , dedicated to F rench w orkers, was s ig n ific a n t.
Its p o litic a l message expressed the P opu lar F ro n t lin e o f n a tio n a l
s o lid a rity w ith lab or, ra th e r th an the in te rn a tio n a l s o lid a rity o f
lab or, and evoked n in e te e n th -ce n tu ry tra d itio n n o t to challenge the
present b u t to ju s tify it:

Humans cannot consider themselves as isolated. Each is an associate. The

association o f all like beings [. . . ]. Since the middle o f the nineteenth
century, action for bringing about social solidarity in France has taken a
new form. . . Saint-Simon and Fourier are introducers o f conceptions o f
social cooperation.136

T h e fo llo w in g , p o s t- 1937 Passagen-Werk e n try records the u r-fo rm

o f this ideology, c itin g a verse composed in 1851 fo r L o n d o n ’s firs t
in te rn a tio n a l exposition:

The rich, the learned, the artists, the proletariat—

Each works for the well-being o f all
And uniting like noble brothers
A ll desire the happiness o f each.137
325

9 M a te r ia lis t P edagogy

9.33 German (rig h t) and Soviet (left) pavilions, Interna tiona l Exposition, Paris, 1937.

B e n ja m in ’s research uncovered as w e ll the origin s o f the contem ­

p o ra ry ideology o f the sm all investor:

“ ‘ . . . ] the poor person, even i f he possesses only one Thaler, can partici­
pate in the holding o f public stock ( Volksaktien) which is divided into very
small portions, and can thus speak o f our palaces, our factories, our trea­
sures.’ Napoleon I I I and his accomplices in the coup d’etat were very
much taken by these ideas. . . believing] they could interest the masses in
the solidity o f public credit and preclude political revolution.’ ” 138

G e rm a n y hosted no in te rn a tio n a l expositions in the th irtie s . I n ­

stead, H itle r presided over the new fo rm o f mass spectacle th a t
w o u ld supersede them in o u r ow n era (when w o rld expositions
have become u n p ro fita b le ). T h e O ly m p ic Games were held in B e r­
lin in 1936 at the new e ig hty-five thousand-seat “ O ly m p ic Sta­
d iu m ” (figu re 9.34). H ere the fitte st in h um an bodies, ra th e r than
the latest in in d u s tria l m achines, were p u t on d isplay, p e rfo rm in g
fo r mass audiences. T ele visio n was used e xp e rim e n ta lly at these
326

Part I I I

9.34 O lym p ic Stadium , B erlin, b u ilt by W erner M a rch, 1934-36.

O lym p ics, and L e n i R iefenstahl captured the games on film , dem ­

o n stra tin g the new te chn ical a b ility to create a mass audience o u t
o f in d iv id u a ls isolated in space.
T h e m odern O ly m p ic s , begun in 1896, were p a rt o f the ideology
o f neoclassicism, a supposed re tu rn to the n a tu ra l, a th le tic prowess
o f the a ncient ( “ A ry a n ” ) Greeks. In a note to the 1936 A rtw o rk
essay, B e n ja m in com pared them instead to the in d u s tria l science o f
T a y lo ris m th a t em ployed the stopw atch to analyze m in u te ly the
b o d ily actions o f w orkers fo r the purpose o f setting norm s fo r w o rk ­
er p ro d u c tiv ity in m echanized p ro d u ctio n . Precisely this was the
d is tin c tiv e ch a ra cte ristic o f the new O ly m p ic s — hence the p u r­
p o rte d ly a ncient event revealed its e lf to be absolutely m odern. T h e
athletes in B e rlin ran against the clock. T h e ir perform ances were
measured in “ seconds and centim eters” : “ I t is these measurem ents
th a t establish the sports records. T h e old fo rm o f struggle d is­
appears . . . ] . ” 139 Such m easurem ent is a fo rm o f test, n o t co m p e ti­
tio n : “ N o th in g is m ore ty p ic a l o f the test in its m odern fo rm as
m easuring the h u m a n being against an a p p a ra tu s.” 140 A n d w here­
as these tests ca nn ot themselves be displayed, the O ly m p ic s
p rovide fo r them a representational form . F o r these reasons:
“ O lym p ics are re a c tio n a ry .” 141
327

9 M a te r ia lis t P edagogy

9.35 T riu m p h a l arch sketched by H itle r, 1924-26, given to Speer for use in the plan o f
B erlin (top).

9.36 German troops entering Paris, June 1940 (bottom )

328

Part I I I

10

“ The remarkable thing [. . . ] is that Paris still exists.” 142

A t the 1867 Paris E x p o sitio n celebrating the peaceful c o m p e titio n

between nations, B ism arck was hosted by N apoleon I I I , w h o m in
three years he w o u ld meet, and defeat on the b a ttle fie ld . H itle r
chose to forgo the exposition o f 1937. T hre e years la te r he entered
the c ity as its conquerer. I t was his firs t tr ip to Paris. W ith h im was
A lb re c h t Speer, in charge o f H itle r ’s p ro je ct to re b u ild B e rlin in the
im age o f Paris, b u t g ra nd er. T h e y a rrive d by a irp la n e at 6:00 a.m .
F or b arely three hours they drove the deserted, streets, s to pp ing at
P aris’ c u ltu ra l “ treasures” : the O p era b u ilt u nd er H aussm ann,
w h ic h he w anted m ost to see; the C ham ps Elysees w ith its shopping
arcades, the A rc de T riu m p h , T ro ca de ro , the to m b o f N apoleon,
the Pantheon, N o tre D am e, Sacre C oeur, and the E iffel T o w e r
(figure 9.37). H e to ld Speer th a t it was his “ life ’s d re a m ” to see
Paris, and said to h im a fte rw ard :

Wasn’t Paris beautiful? But Berlin must be made far more beautiful. In
the past I often considered whether we would not have to destroy Paris,
but when we are finished in Berlin, Paris w ill only be a shadow. So why
should we destroy it?143

T h u s Paris su rvived , due to the eagerness o f this new, and m ost

b a rb a ric o f conquerers to take his place in the line o f c u ltu ra l in ­
heritance, th a t “ triu m p h a l procession” in w h ich rulers “ step over
those w ho are ly in g p ro stra te .” 144
H itle r ’ s tr ip to Paris was on Ju ne 25, 1940. B e n ja m in had fled the
c ity o n ly weeks before, n o t able to ca rry w ith h im “ m ore th a n m y
gas m ask and to ile t a rticle s.” 145 T h ro u g h o u t A u g u st, he was in
M arseilles, s till w ith o u t an e xit visa. In Septem ber he jo in e d a
sm all g ro u p th a t le ft France ille g a lly by crossing in to Spain. D ays
before, the G erm an Luftw affe had begun its aerial attacks on L o n ­
don. T h e fire b o m b in g dem onstrated the extrem e v u ln e ra b ility o f
the m odern c ity. Soon this, n o t H itle r ’s u rb a n p la n n in g , w o u ld be
B e rlin ’ s fate as w e ll (figu re 9.38).
C ities w o u ld su rvive the w ar. T h e y w o u ld be re b u ilt re fle ctin g
the m ost m odern u rb a n is t design; th e ir n in ete e n th -ce n tu ry facades
w o u ld be restored as h isto rica l treasures. B u t the significance o f the
329

9 M aterialist Pedagogy

9.37 H itle r before the Eiffel Tow er, June 25, 1945, photograph sent to Eva Braun.
330

P a rt I I I

9.38 Ruins o f the Reichstag, B erlin, 1945.

m odern m etro po lis as the ideological centerpiece o f n a tio n a l im ­

p eria lism , o f ca p ita l and co nsum ption, disappeared w ith these a ir
attacks. T h e p la n e t’s m e tro p o lita n p o p u la tio n has never been
greater. Its cities have never appeared m ore s im ila r. B u t in the
sense th a t B e n ja m in recorded in his h isto ry o f the c ity o f Paris,
there can be no “ C a p ita l C ity ” o f the late tw e n tie th ce ntu ry. T h e
Passagen-Wer/c records the end o f the era o f u rb a n dream w o rld s in
a w ay the a u th o r never intended.
Afterword
Revolutionary Inheritance

For K im and Mona Benjamin

From what are the phenomena rescued? Not only, not so much from the
discredit and disregard into which they fall, as from the catastrophe of
how a particular form o f tradition so often represents them, their “ appre­
ciation as heritage.” 1

Professor C h im e n A b ra m s k y was on sabbatical leave in S tanford,

C a lifo rn ia , in 1980, w hen he m et L isa F itko , a seventy-year-old,
B e rlin -b o rn w om an, w ho to ld h im she had led W a lte r B e nja m in
over the Pyrenees to Spain fo rty years before. She rem em bered w ell
th a t he had carried a heavy briefcase, c o n ta in in g a m a n u s c rip t
m ore im p o rta n t, so B e n ja m in said, th an his life. M in d fu l o f the
p o te n tia l significance o f her account, Professor A b ra m s k y n o tifie d
G ershom Scholem in Isra e l, w ho telephoned Lisa F itk o and re­
corded fro m her the fo llo w in g story:

I remember waking up in that narrow room under the roof where I had
gone to sleep a few hours earlier. Someone was knocking at the door.
[. . . ] I rubbed my half-closed eyes. I t was one o f our friends, W alter
Benjamin— one o f the many who had poured into Marseille when the
Germans overran France.

[. . . ] Gnadige Frau, he said, “ please accept my apologies for this incon­

venience.” The world was coming apart, I thought, but not Benjamin’s
politesses. “ Ih r Herr Gemahl,” he continued, “ told me how to find you. He
said you would take me across the border into Spain.”
332

Afterword

[...]

The only tru ly safe crossing that was left [. . . ] meant that we had to cross
the Pyrenees farther west, at a greater altitude, it meant more climbing.
“ That would be all rig h t,” Benjamin said, “ as long as it is safe. I do have
a heart condition,” he continued, “ and I w ill have to walk slowly. Also,
there are two more persons who joined me on my trip from Marseille and
who also need to cross the border, a Mrs. Gurland and her teenage son.
W ould you take them along?” Sure, sure. “ But M r. Benjamin, do you
realize that I am not a competent guide in this region? [. . . ] You want to
take the risk? “ Yes,” he said w ithout hesitation. “ The real risk would be
not to go.”

[•••]

I noticed that Benjamin was carrying a large black briefcase [. . . ] I t

looked heavy and I offered to help him carry it. “ This is my new manu­
script,” he explained. “ But why did you take it for this walk?” “ You must
understand that this briefcase is the most im portant thing to me,” he said.
“ I cannot risk losing it. I t is the manuscript that must be saved. I t is more
im portant than I am.”

[...]

Mrs. G urland’s son, Jose— he was about 15 years old— and I took turns
carrying the black bag; it was awfully heavy. [. . . ] Today, when W alter
Benjamin is considered one o f the century’s leading scholars and critics—
today I am sometimes asked: W hat did he say about the manuscript? D id
he discuss the contents? D id it develop a novel philosophical concept?
Good God, I had my hands fu ll steering my little group uphill; philosophy
would have to w ait till the downward side o f the mountain was reached.
W hat mattered now was to save a few people from the Nazis; and here I
was w ith this— this— komiscker Kauz, ce drole de type— this curious eccen­
tric. O ld Benjamin: under no circumstances would he part w ith his
ballast, that black bag; we would have to drag the monster across the
mountains.

Now back to the steep vineyard. [. . . ] Here for the first and only time
Benjamin faltered. M ore precisely, he tried, failed, and then gave formal
notice that this clim b was beyond his capability. Jose and I took him
between us, w ith his arms on our shoulders we dragged him and the bag
up the h ill. He breathed heavily, yet he made no complaint, not even a
sigh. He only kept squinting in the direction of the black bag.

[...]
333__________________________

Revolutionary Inheritance

We passed a puddle. The water was greenish and slimy. Benjamin knelt
down to drink. [. . . ] “ Listen to me,” I said. [. . . ] “ We have almost
arrived [. . . ] to drink this mud is unthinkable. You w ill get typhus. . .”
“ True, I might. But don’t you see, the worst that can happen is that I die
o f typhus. . . A FTE R crossing the border. The Gestapo won’t be able to
get me, and the manuscript w ill be safe. I do apologize.” He drank.

[...]
“ T ha t is Port-Bou down there! The town w ith the Spanish border control
where you w ill present yourselves [ . . . ] . I must go now, auf Wiedersehen.”

[•••]

In about a week the word came: W alter Benjamin is dead. He took his life
in Port-Bou the night after his arrival.2

H is com panions— M rs . H e n n y G u rla n d and her son Jose—

reached A m e rica successfully. She w ro te to a cousin on O cto b er 11,
1940, a bo ut th a t last n ig h t:

For an hour, four women and the three o f us sat before the officials [at Port
Bou] crying, begging and despairing as we showed them our perfectly
good papers. We were all sans nationalite and we were told that a few days
earlier a decree had been issued that prohibited people w ithout national­
ity from traveling through Spain. [ . . .]. The only document I had was
the American one; for Jose and Benjamin this meant that they would be
sent to a camp. So all o f us went to our rooms in utter despair. A t 7 in the
morning Frau Lipmann called me down because Benjamin had asked for
me. He told me that he had taken large quantities of morphine at 10 the
preceding evening and that I should try to present the matter as illness; he
gave me a letter addressed to me and Adorno T H . W. . . . {ric.} Then he
lost consciousness. I sent for a doctor [ . . . ] . I endured horrible fear for
Jose and myself until the death certificate was made out the next morning.
[. . . ] I had to leave all papers and money w ith thcjuge[,] and asked him
to send everything to the American consulate in Barcelona [ . . . ] . I
bought a grave for five years, etc. [. . . ] I really can’t describe the situa­
tion to you any more exactly. In any case, it was such that I had to destroy
the letter to Adorno and me after I had read it. I t contained five lines
saying that he, Benjamin, could not go on, did not see any way out, and
that he [Adorno] should get a report from me, likewise his son.3

M rs . G u rla n d la te r w ro te to A d o rn o th a t B e n ja m in ’s le tte r had

said: “ Please tra n s m it m y thoughts to m y frien d A d o rn o and ex­
p la in the s itu a tio n in w h ich I fin d m yse lf placed.” 4 D id these
“ th o u g h ts” refer to the m a n u scrip t in the briefcase?
334

Afterword

In O cto b e r 1940, H o rk h e im e r requested detailed in fo rm a tio n

fro m the Spanish b orde r police. H e was to ld B e n ja m in ’s death was
“ n ot suicide b u t fro m n a tu ra l causes,” 5 and th a t his personal effects
taken in to custody consisted o f

[. . . ] a leather briefcase o f the type used by businessmen, a man’s watch,

a pipe, six photographs, an X-ray photograph (radiografia) , glasses,
various letters, periodicals and a few other papers, the contents o f which
are not noted, as well as some money [. . . ].6

N o m e n tio n o f a “ heavy” m a n u scrip t. T h e “ few o th e r papers” have

n o t been preserved.7 N o r was his grave m arked o r tended.8
H e n n y G u rla n d , w ho m a rrie d E ric h F ro m m in 1944, died in
M e xico in 1952. H e r son “ Jose,” Joseph G u rla n d , is a professor o f
engineering in the U n ite d States. B e n ja m in ’s e d ito r, R o lf T ie d e -
m ann, contacted h im and reports:

Although his memory has preserved precisely many details, much has also
been forgotten, or remembered only darkly and unsurely. In the decisive
question he is not able to be helpful: He no longer knows whether or not
Benjamin carried w ith him a briefcase, can just as little remember seeing
any manuscript by Benjamin, and also never heard his mother mention
anything about it later.9

Scholem believes the p o s s ib ility cannot be ru le d o u t “ th a t fo r

reasons connected w ith w h a t happened after B e n ja m in ’s death, to
w h ic h she referred o n ly vaguely in her letter, M rs . G u rla n d m ig h t
have destroyed this m a n u scrip t [ . . . ] . ” 10 T ie d e m a n n “ cannot
agree w ith this co nclusio n.” 11 H e grants th a t in the “ m ore th an a
q u a rte r o f a year” th a t B e n ja m in spent in southern France before
crossing the b orde r he had “ tim e enough to com plete a sh ort o r
even som ewhat le n g th y m a n u s c rip t,” and th a t “ i t could have con­
cerned scarcely a n y th in g else th a n a text on the Arcades p ro je c t.” 12
B u t “ given his ‘m icroscopic h a n d w ritin g ,’ ” even a longer text could
have fit on the “ few o th e r pages” delivered to the Spanish officials.
H a d it been a new text, it is d iffic u lt to understand w h y B e n ja m in
w o u ld n o t have m entioned it in his correspondence d u rin g these
last m onths. T ie d e m a n n ’s ow n conjecture is th a t the “ m a n u s c rip t”
was in fa ct the Theses on H is to ry , finished ju s t before he le ft Paris,
w here B e n ja m in had le ft his papers in “ ‘ total u n c e rta in ty as to
w he th e r they w o u ld s u rv iv e .13
335

Revolutionary Inheritance

Iro n ic a lly , H itle r ’s decision n o t to destroy Paris means th a t we

now have B e n ja m in ’s massive assembly o f notes fo r the Passagen-
Werk as p a rt o f o u r c u ltu ra l inh erita nce . B u t w h a t i f Scholem has
guessed co rre ctly th a t the m a n u scrip t in the briefcase represented
some fo rm , how ever p re lim in a ry , o f a com pleted Passagen-Werk?
T h e n this opus, w h ich m ig h t now be valued by o u r ow n generation
as n ot o n ly the m ost im p o rta n t c u ltu ra l co m m en ta ry on m o d e rn ity ,
b u t one o f the greatest lite ra ry achievem ents o f the tw e n tie th cen­
tu ry (as, in its absence, has often been conjectured), was destroyed
by a w om an w ho feared desperately fo r her son’s safety, and for her
ow n.
O ne m o n th before B e n ja m in ’s suicide, his ow n son Stefan, five
years o ld e r than Jose G u rla n d , escaped w ith his m oth er to E ng­
land. H e survived the aerial bom bings, settled in L o n d o n as a book
collector, m a rrie d , and had his ow n ch ild re n . T h is a fte rw ord is
dedicated to them , B e n ja m in ’s granddaughters, and to the m em ory
o f an evening in th e ir L o n d o n home w hen we read to each other
from th e ir g ra n d fa th e r’s collection o f n in etee nth-cen tu ry c h ild re n ’s
books.

[. . .DJanger affects both the content o f tradition and its receivers. The
same threat hangs over both: that o f becoming a tool of the ruling classes.
In every era the attempt must be made anew to wrest tradition away from
a conformism that is about to overpower it. [. . . E]ven the dead w ill not be
safe from the enemy i f he wins. And this enemy has not ceased to be
victorious.14

In 1982, an in te rn a tio n a l conference at the U n iv e rs ity o f F ra n k fu rt

(where B e n ja m in had been denied a p osition in 1926) m arked the
appearance o f the Passagen-Werk as volum e V o f B e n ja m in ’s Gessam-
melte Schriften. T h e m o rn in g after the fo rm a l presentations, in an
open discussion w ith students, B e n ja m in ’s interpreters argued for
“ th e ir” B e n ja m in fro m opposing in te lle c tu a l camps. I rem em ber
n o th in g o f these debates, perhaps because they have been so often
repeated. T h e w isdom came n ot from us th a t m ornin g, b u t from a
G erm an student w ho suddenly spoke o f those m issing from the
ro o m — those G erm an Jews w ho m ig h t have been a p a rt o f his gen­
e ra tion o f students. H e felt th e ir lack, and expressed sadness at
th e ir absence. A ll a t once the room fille d w ith ghosts. W e shivered.
336

Afterword

C an we, ta kin g hold o f o u r c u ltu ra l heritage, be m ade m in d fu l o f

the violence in the w ake o f w h ich these “ treasures” have been
gathered up and preserved, whereas others have disappeared, and
countless others n o t even been created? C an academ icians (— I
c o un t m yse lf— ), fo r w ho m sch olarly m eticulousness is a ll th a t is
req uired o f in te lle c tu a l re sp o n sib ility, be trusted as the guardians
and tra n sm itte rs o f the c u ltu ra l heritage? A n d m ore, can we view
seriously, w ith reverence, the discarded m a te ria l objects o f mass
c u ltu re as m onum ents to the u to p ia n hope o f past generations, and
to its betrayal? W h o w ill teach us these tru th s, and in w h a t fo rm
shall they be passed on to those w ho come after us?

[The story ] is one o f the oldest forms o f communication. I t does not aim at
transm itting the pure in-itself o f the event (as information does) but
anchors the event in the life o f the person reporting, in order to pass it on
as experience to those listening.13

In One Way Street B e n ja m in w rote:

[. . . A]lready today, as the contemporary mode o f knowledge production

demonstrates, the book is an obsolete mediation between two different
card filing systems. For everything essential is found in the note boxes o f
the researcher who writes it, and the reader who studies it assimilates it
into his or her own note file.16

In the Passagen-Werk, B e n ja m in has le ft us his note boxes. T h a t is,

he has le ft us “ e ve ryth in g essential.” T h e Passagen-Werk is a h is to r­
ical lexicon o f the c a p ita lis t o rigin s o f m o d e rn ity , a co lle ction o f
concrete, fa ctu al images o f u rb a n experience. B e n ja m in h an dled
these facts as i f they w ere p o litic a lly charged, capable o f tra n s m it­
tin g re v o lu tio n a ry energy across generations. H is m ethod was to
create fro m them co nstructions o f p rin t th a t had the p ow er to
awaken p o litic a l consciousness am ong present-day readers. Be­
cause o f the delibe ra te unconnectedness o f these co nstructions,
B e n ja m in ’s insights are n o t— and never w o u ld have been— lodged
in a rig id n a rra tio n a l o r discursive structure. Instead, they are easi­
ly m oved a bo ut in changing arrangem ents and tr ia l co m b in a tion s,
in response to the altered dem ands o f the changing “ p resent.” H is
legacy to the readers w ho come after h im is a n o n a u th o rita ria n
337__________________________

Revolutionary Inheritance

system o f inh erita nce , w h ich compares less to the bourgeois mode
o f passing dow n c u ltu ra l treasures as the spoils o f conquering
forces, th a n to the u to p ia n tra d itio n o f fa iry tales, w h ich in s tru c t
w ith o u t d o m in a tin g , and so m any o f w h ich “ are the tra d itio n a l
stories a bo ut v ic to ry over those forces.” 17
T h e Theses on H is to ry is n ot a fa iry tale in any tra d itio n a l sense.
A n d yet its im agery tells the same sto ry th a t had always m otivated
the Passagen-Werk. In the Theses, B e n ja m in speaks o f “ shock”
ra th e r th an aw akening, b u t they are differen t w ords fo r the same
experience. “ Im ages o f the past” replace the te rm “ dream im ages,”
b u t they are s till d ia le c tic a lly a m b iva le n t, m y s tify in g and ye t con­
ta in in g “ sparks o f hope.” 18 T h e re v o lu tio n , the “ p o litic a l w o rld -
c h ild ,” has yet to be b o rn ,19 b u t the u to p ia it w o u ld usher in is
understood in the c h ild lik e term s o f F o u rie r, whose m ost fantastic
daydream s o f cooperation w ith n a tu re “ prove to be su rp ris in g ly
sound.” 20 “ T h e subject o f h isto rica l know ledge is the strug glin g,
oppressed class itse lf,” 21 b u t the entire “ g en eration” possesses
“ M essianic p ow er.” 22 H is to ry appears as catastrophe, a hellish,
cyclical re p e titio n o f b a rba rism and oppression. B u t B la n q u i’s
“ resign a tion w ith o u t hope” 23 is absent fro m B e n ja m in ’s ow n voice;
instead he speaks o f the need to “ im p ro ve o u r p osition in the strug ­
gle against fascism .” 24 I t leads to an a p o ca lyp tic conception o f
b re akin g o u t o f this h isto rica l cycle, in w h ich the p ro le ta ria n rev­
o lu tio n appears und er the sign o f M essianic R ed em p tion .25
I n the Theses on H is to ry , B e n ja m in e x p lic itly rejected the his-
to ric is t’s “ once upon a tim e ” ; the h is to ric a l m a te ria lis t “ leaves it to
others to expend themselves” w ith this w hore in “ the borde llo o f
h isto ricism . H e rem ains m aster o f his pow er, a d u lt enough to blast
open the c o n tin u u m o f h is to ry .” 26 A n d yet, there was a w ay o f
s to ry te llin g th a t was n o t this p ro s titu te d one, because its im agery
broke this c o n tin u u m ra th e r than re p lic a tin g it.
T h e firs t o f the Theses on H is to ry , w ith its im age o f the d w a rf
and the pup pe t, begins: “ Bekanntlich soli es [ . . . ] gegeben haben
[ . . . ] . ” I t has been translated: “ T h e sto ry is to ld [ . . . ] . ” 27 Ben­
ja m in ’s last p osition was th a t o f the sto ryte lle r. H e returned to this
fo rm w hen the continuous tra d itio n o f w o rld w a r le ft o n ly the hope
th a t, w ith in the ^ c o n tin u o u s tra d itio n o f u to p ia n p olitics, his story
w o u ld fin d a new generation o f listeners, one to w ho m the dre am ing
collective o f his ow n era appears as the sleeping g ia n t o f the past
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Afterword

“ fo r w h ich its ch ild re n become the fo rtu n a te occasion o f its ow n

aw a ken ing .” C onsider in the lig h t o f the o rig in a l pla n fo r the
Passagen-Werk, the second thesis:

There is a secret agreement between past generations and the present one.
O ur coming was expected on earth. Like every generation that preceded
us, we have been endowed w ith a weak Messianic power, a power to which
the past has claim. T hat claim cannot be settled cheaply. The historical
materialist is aware o f this.28

The wisest thing— so the fairy tale taught mankind in olden times, and
teaches children to this day— is to meet the forces o f the mythical world
w ith cunning and w ith high spirits.29

U n a v o id a b ly , h isto rica l events are w ritte n a bo ut in term s o f w h a t

comes a fte r them . T h e proposed goal o f h isto ric a l scholarship, to
see “ ‘w ith p u rity in to the p ast’ ” w ith o u t regard fo r “ ‘e v e ry th in g
th a t has in te rve n e d ’ [ . . . ] is n o t so m uch d iffic u lt as im possible to
a tta in .30 T h is fact, lam ented b y bourgeois scholars, is to be a ffirm ed
by the h is to ric a l m a te ria list. H is purpose, w ro te B e n ja m in , is to
accom plish a “ C op ern ica n R e v o lu tio n ” in the w ritin g o f h isto ry:

The Copernican Revolution in historical perception is this: Before one

held the past for the fixed point and saw the present as an effort to advance
knowledge gropingly to this point. Now this relationship is to be reversed,
and the past becomes the dialectical turnabout that inspires an awakened
consciousness. Politics maintains preeminence over history.31

B u t i f bourgeois h is to ry w ritin g is to be o verturn ed , then i t is n o t

a question o f rep la cing it w ith a M a rx is t n a rra tiv e . R ather, the goal
is to b rin g to consciousness those repressed elements o f the past
(its realized barbarism s and its unrealized dream s) w h ic h “ place
the present in a c ritic a l p o s itio n .” 32 In the d ia le ctica l im age, the
present as the m om en t o f re v o lu tio n a ry p o s s ib ility acts as a lodestar
fo r the assembly o f h is to ric a l fragm ents. B e n ja m in w rite s in the
Passagen-Werk:

Comparison o f the others’ attempts to setting off on a sea voyage in which

the ships are drawn off course by the magnetic north pole. To discover this
north pole. W hat for the others are deviations are for me the data that set
my course.33
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Revolutionary Inheritance

T h e present as “ n o w -tim e ” keeps the h isto ric a l m a te ria lis t on

course. W ith o u t its pow er o f alig nm en t, the p ossibilities fo r recon­
s tru c tin g the past are in fin ite and a rb itra ry .
T h is c ritic is m is relevant to “ d e co n stru ctio n ,” 34 the fo rm o f
c u ltu ra l herm eneutics m ost in vogue in o u r ow n present. G ranted,
d econstruction as a herm eneutic m ethod denies the past as a “ fixed
p o in t,” draw s the present e m p h a tica lly in to in te rp re ta tio n , and
claim s to be both a n ti-id e o lo g ica l and p h ilo so p h ic a lly ra d ica l. B u t
i t cannot b rin g to a sta n d still w h a t is experienced as a continuous
restlessness o f m eaning, because there is no im age o f the present as
the m om en t o f re vo lu tio n a ry p o ssib lity to arrest th o u g h t.35 In the
absence o f any “ m agnetic n o rth p ole” whatsoever, d e co nstru ction ­
ists “ decenter” the texts as a series o f in d iv id u a lis t and anarchist
acts. Change appears eternal, even w h ile society rem ains static. Its
re v o lu tio n a ry gesture is thereby reduced to the sheer novelty o f
in te rp re ta tio n s: Fashion masquerades as p o litics.
In contrast, B e n ja m in ’ s d ia le ctica l images are n eith er aesthetic
n or a rb itra ry . H e understood h isto rica l “ perspective” as a focus on
the past th a t m ade the present, as re v o lu tio n a ry “ n o w -tim e ,” its
va n ish in g p o in t. H e kept his eyes on this beacon, and his in te rp re ­
ters w o u ld do w e ll to fo llo w suit. W ith o u t its constant beam, they
risk becom ing starry-eyed by the flashes o f b rillia n c e in B e n ja m in ’s
w ritin g s (o r in th e ir o w n ), and b lin d e d to the p o in t.

In reality, there is not one moment that does not bring w ith it its own
revolutionary possibility— it only wants to be defined as a specific one,
namely as the chance for a totally new resolution in view o f a totally new
task.36

“ O ne should never tru s t w h a t an a u th o r h im s e lf says a bo ut his

w o rk ,” w ro te B e n ja m in .37 N o r can we, because i f B e nja m in is cor­
rect, the tru th content o f a lite ra ry w o rk is released o n ly after the
fact, and is a fu n c tio n o f w h a t happens in th a t re a lity w h ic h be­
comes the m e d iu m fo r its su rviva l. I t follow s th a t in in te rp re tin g
the Passagen-Werk o u r a ttitu d e should n ot be reverence fo r Ben­
ja m in th a t w o u ld im m o rta liz e his w ords as the p ro d u c t o f a great
a u th o r no longer here, b u t reverence fo r the very m o rta l and
340

Afterword

precarious re a lity th a t form s o u r ow n “ present,” th ro u g h w h ic h

B e n ja m in ’s w o rk is now telescoped.
T o d a y the Paris arcades are being restored like antiques to th e ir
fo rm e r g ra nd eu r; the b ice n te n n ia l celebration o f the French R ev­
o lu tio n has at least threatened to take the fo rm o f a no the r great
w o rld exposition; L e C o rb u sie r-in sp ire d u rb a n renew al projects,
now in decay, have become the desolate setting fo r a film like
Clockwork Orange, w h ile the “ p ostm od e rn ist” constructions th a t
reject his heritage b rin g b o th w ish im age and fetish in to q u ite d if­
ferent constellations; “ W a lt D isney E nterprises” is c o n s tru c tin g
technological u top ias— one on the o utskirts o f Paris— in the tr a d i­
tio n o f F o u rie r and S a int-S im on . W hen try in g to reco nstru ct w h a t
the arcades, expositions, u rb an ism , and technological dream s were
fo r B e nja m in , we cannot close o u r eyes to w h a t they have become
fo r us. I t follow s th a t in the service o f tru th , B e n ja m in ’s ow n text
m ust be “ rip p e d out o f co n te xt,” 38 sometimes, indeed, w ith a
“ seem ingly b ru ta l g ra sp.” 39
T h e re sp o n sib ility fo r a “ th eo log ica l” reading o f the Passagen-
Werk (one w h ich concerns its e lf n o t o nly w ith the te xt, b u t also w ith
the changing present th a t has become the ind ex o f the te x t’ s leg i­
b ility ) cannot be brushed aside. T h is means sim p ly th a t p o litic s
cannot be brushed aside. B y w ay o f co nclud ing th is stu dy, the
fo llo w in g images p ro vid e m a te ria l fo r such a reading, u rg in g th a t
readers begin this in te rp re tiv e p ro je ct on th e ir own.
Afterimages

1988 P ostcard

W a lte r Benjam in in Ibiza , 1932. Photograph © Theodor W . A dorno A rchiv,

F rankfu rt am M a in
342_________

Afterimages

A rcades: C o n tin u ity /D is c o n tin u ity

M a p o f Paris arcades, 1981 ( A C E e d ite u r, Paris)

I t is not difficult through our own flanerie to reconstruct Benjamin’s work

day. A rrivin g by metro, he would have surfaced through the art-nouveau
portal at rue 4. Septembre, and traversed the Passage Choiseul, exiting
near the lush Square de Louvois, the quiet peace o f which ends abruptly
at the rue de Richelieu. Crossing its speeding lanes o f traffic, he reached
the safety o f the Bibliotheque Nationale. He worked “ the whole day
there,” accustoming him self to the “ annoying regulations” in the main
reading room (V, 1100). When tired o f reading, a short stroll from the
library brought to view all o f central Paris, first and foremost, the surviv­
ing arcades in which he discovered the modern world in m iniature:
Choiseul, Vivienne, Colbert, Puteaux, Havre, Panoramas, Jouffrey, Ver-
deau, Princes, Brady, Prado, Caire, Bourg l’Abee, Grand-Cerf, Vero-
Dodat.
The restored Paris arcades still function as dreamworlds, but now in­
stead of celebrating urban modernity, they provide fantasies o f escaping
from it: English tea rooms, antique shops, old bookstores, and travel agen­
cies find their natural homes in today’s passages.
3 4 3 __________

A fte rim a g e s

Passage V ivienne, b u ilt in 1832, a historical monument since 1974, restored in 1982.
344

Afterimages

D ia le ctics o f a S ocial T yp e : T he F la n eu r

Traffic circle proposed in 1906 by Eugene H enard

“ A ro u n d 1840 it was elegant to take turtles for a w alk in the arcades,

(T his gives a conception o f the tempo o f flanerie)” (V , p. 532). By Ben­
ja m in ’s tim e, taking turtles for urban strolls had become enorm ously
dangerous fo r turtles, and only somewhat less so fo r flaneurs. T he speed­
up principles o f mass pro d u ctio n had spilled over in to the streets, waging
“ ‘w ar on flanerie’ ” (V , p. 547). The “ ‘flow o f h u m a n ity . . . has lost its
gentleness and tra n q u ility ,’ ” Le temps reported in 1936: “ ‘N o w it is a to r­
rent, where you are tossed, jostled, th ro w n back, carried to rig h t and le ft’ ”
(V , p. 547). W ith m o to r transportation s till at an elementary stage o f
evolution, one already risked being lost in the sea.
T oday it is clear to any pedestrian in Paris th a t w ith in p u b lic space,
autom obiles are the d o m in a n t and predatory species. T h e y penetrate the
c ity ’s aura so ro u tin e ly th a t it disintegrates faster than it can coalesce.
Flaneurs, like tigers or pre in d u stria l tribes, are cordoned o ff on reserva­
tions, preserved w ith in the a rtific ia lly created environm ents o f pedestrian
streets, parks, and underground passageways.
The utopian m om ent o f flanerie was fleeting. B u t i f the flaneur has
disappeared as a specific figure, the perceptive a ttitu d e th a t he embodied
saturates m odern existence, specifically, the society o f mass consum ption.
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Afterimages

H cnard’s “ simple and elegant solution” in practice. Image juxta position by Nora Evenson

In the flaneur, concretely, we recognize our own consumerist mode o f

being-in-the-w orld. (The same can be argued fo r all o f B enjam in’s his­
torical figures. In com m odity society a ll o f us are prostitutes, selling
ourselves to strangers; a ll o f us are collectors o f things.)
B enjam in wrote: “ the departm ent store is [the flaneur’s] last h a u n t”
(V , p. 562). B u t flanerie as a form o f perception is preserved in the charac­
teristic fu n g ib ility o f people and things in mass society, and in the merely
im aginary g ra tificatio n provided by advertising, illustrated jo u rn a ls,
fashion and sex magazines, all o f w hich go by the flaneur’s p rin cip le o f
“ look, b u t don’ t touch” (V , p. 968). B enjam in examined the early connec­
tion between the perceptive style o f flanerie and th a t o f jo u rn a lis m . I f
mass newspapers demanded an urban readership (and s till do), more cu r­
rent forms o f mass media loosen the flaneur’s essential connection to the
city. I t was A dorno who pointed to the station-sw itching behavior o f the
radio listener as a kind o f aural flanerie. In our tim e, television provides it
in optical, nonam bulatory form . In the U n ite d States, p a rtic u la rly , the
form at o f television news programs approaches the distracted, im pres­
sionistic, physiognom ic view ing o f the flaneur, as the sights purveyed take
346

Afterimages

one around the w orld. A n d in connection w ith w orld travel, the mass
tourist in d u stry now sells flanerie in two- and four-week packets.
T he flaneur thus becomes extinct only by exploding in to a m yria d o f
forms, the phenomenological characteristics o f w hich, no m a tte r how new
they may appear, continue to bear his traces, as u r-form . T h is is the
“ tru th ” o f the flaneur, m ore visible in his afterlife than in his flourishing.
34 7__________

Afterimages

Shopping Bag Lady, 1980

Photograph © A nn M a rie Rousseau

B enjam in noted in a 1934 book, this “ po rtra ya l o f suffering, presum ably

under the Seine b rid g e s. . . ‘A bohemian wom an sleeps, her head bent
forw ard, her em pty purse between her legs. H e r blouse is covered w ith
pins w hich g litte r from the sun, and a ll her household and personal pos­
sessions: tw o brushes, an open knife, a closed bow l, are neatly arranged
. . . creating alm ost an in tim a cy, the shade o f an in te rio r around her” (V ,
p. 537). In the U n ite d States today her kind are called “ bag ladies.” They
have been consumed by that society w hich makes o f W om an the pro to ­
typical consumer. T h e ir appearance, in rags and carrying th e ir w o rld ly
possessions in w orn bags, is the grotesquely iro n ic gesture that they have
ju s t returned from a shopping spree.
T he flaneur inhabits the streets as his liv in g room. I t is quite a different
thing to need the streets as a bedroom, bathroom , or kitchen, when the
most in tim a te aspects o f one’s life are in view o f strangers and u ltim ately,
the police. F or the oppressed (a term that this century has learned is not
lim ite d to class), existence in p u b lic space is more like ly to be synonymous
w ith state surveillance, p u b lic censure, and p o litic a l powerlessness.
348

Afterimages

The W o rld o f T h in g s

W oodcut, A lbrech t D urer, 16th century

3 4 9 __________

Afterimages

Just what is it that makes today’s homes so different, so unique?

M ontage © R ichard H a m ilto n , 1956

“ T he span between emblem and advertising image allows one to measure

w hat changes have gone on since the seventeenth century in regard to the
w orld o f things” (V , p. 440).
350_________

Afterimages

L ittle Treasure Cupboard, seventeenth century

P ainting by Johann Georg H ainz, 1666

351

Afterimages

T w entieth-century treasures
Ur

From the collection o f the Museum o f M odern M ythology, 693 Mission Street,
San Francisco. Photograph © M a tthew Selig
352

Afterimages

T h e C o lle c to r

The Object as Fetish:

“ ‘ P rivate property has made us so stupid and passive th a t an object is

only ours i f we possess it, i.e., i f it exists fo r us as capital, or is used by
u s . . . * ” (M a rx , cited V , p. 277).

‘ “ T he need to accum ulate is a sign o f coming death fo r people as for

societies’ ” (M o ra n d , cited V , p. 275).

The Fetish Redeemed:

“ B u t contrast w ith this collecting by ch ild re n !” (V , p. 275).

“ C ollecting is an ur-phenom enon o f studying: the student collects k n o w l­

edge” (V , p. 278).

“ In collecting the im p o rta n t th in g is th a t the object is taken o u t o f a ll the

o rig in a l functions o f its use [ . . . ] ” (V , p. 1016).

“ One m ust understand: T o the collector, in every one o f his [h e r] objects,

the w orld is present, and indeed, ordered— b u t according to a su rp risin g
relationship, incom prehensible in profane terms” (V , p. 274).

Like in vo lu n ta ry m em ory, collecting is a “ productive disorder” (V ,

p. 280), “ a form o f p ra ctica l rem em bering” (V , p. 271) w herein the things
“ step in to our lives, not we in to theirs” (V , p. 273). “ Therefore, in a cer­
tain sense, even the smallest act o f p o litic a l reflection marks an epoch in
the trade o f antiques” (V , p. 271).

“ In a practical sense, I can behave in a hum an way tow ard an object only
when the object behaves in a hum an w ay tow ard hum an beings’ ” (M a rx ,
cited V , p. 277).
35 3__________

Afterimages

E xhibition Catalogs New Y ork W o rld ’s Fair, 1939

T I M E C A P S U L E , 1938, “ For the People o f the Year 6939,” assembled

and deposited by the Westinghouse E lectric C orporation. A replica was
exhibited at the 1939 New Y o rk W o rld ’s Fair.
A m ong the items are a M ickey Mouse c h ild ’s cup; a W o o lw o rth
rhinestone clip; “ The Story o f Rockefeller C enter” ; reproductions o f
paintings by Picasso, M o n d ria n , D a li, and G ra n t W ood; the sheet music
o f F la t Foot Floogie; Gone With the Wind; photographs o f a radio broadcast;
the D a ily Worker fo r A ugust 30, 1938 (along w ith eight other New Y o rk
dailies); the Sears, Roebuck catalog fo r 1938-39; a newsreel in clu d in g
film s o f the veterans’ reunion on the 75th anniversary o f the Batde o f
G ettysburg, H ow ard Hughes’ J u ly 1938 record-breaking round-the-w orld
flig h t in his Lockheed 14 called “ New Y o rk W o rld ’s F a ir 1939,” Jesse
Owens w in n in g the 100-meter dash at the 1936 B erlin O lym pics, football
and baseball games, m ilita ry displays, the bom bing o f C anton by Japan
(Ju n e 1938), a fashion show, and the W o rld ’s F a ir Preview M otorcade o f
A p ril 30, 1938.
354

Afterimages

U r-fo rm s o f P o stm o d e rn is m

A rundel Castle. Photograph © Joan Sage

35 5

Afterimages

A T & T bu ild ing, New Y ork C ity, designed by P hilip Johnson and John Burgee, 1983
Photograph © D anielle M o re tti
356

Afterimages

Premodem:
In his home, the bourgeois citizen creates a “ fierive setting’* fo r his life
(V , p. 69), a task o f the im a g in a tio n “ all the more pressing,” B enjam in
tells us, “ in that he does n o t dream o f gra ftin g onto his business affairs a
clear conscience o f his social fu n c tio n ” (V , p. 67). A n d yet— even in so
sm all a detail as the diagonal positioning o f rugs and chairs w hich
echoes the diagonal corners o f medieval castles (V , p. 285), there are
signs o f a class under siege. Bedframes “ ‘b ristle ’ ” w ith battlem ents in
eighteenth-century style; closets are girded w ith “ medieval fo rtific a tio n s ”
(V , p. 281). ‘ “ The stairw ay has remained something th a t resembles
more a m ilita ry construction fo r preventing the enemies from in va d in g
a home than a means o f com m unication and access offered to friends’ ”
(V , p. 512). “ The fo rtific a tio n character in cities as w ell as in fu rn i­
ture persisted under the bourgeoisie’ ” (V , p. 284). In 1833, a proposal
to surround the city o f Paris w ith a “ ‘circle o f separate fo rts ’ ” led to
“ ‘universal opposition’ ” and “ ‘an immense p opular dem onstration’ ”
(V , pp. 197-98). Le C orbusier noted: “ ‘The fo rtifie d city was up to the
present the constraint th a t always paralyzed urbanism ’ ” (V , p. 143).

Postmodern:
A tla n ta , Georgia, 1983: “ D o w n to w n A tla n ta rises above its su rro u n din g
city like a walled fortress from another age. [. . .] The sunken m oat o f
In te rs ta te highw ay]-85, w ith its flo w in g lanes o f traffic, reaches around
the eastern base o f the h ill from south to north, protecting lawyers, bank­
ers, consultants and regional executives from the in tru sio n o f low -incom e
neighborhoods” (C a rl A b b o t, The New Urban America, p. 143).

Los Angeles Bonaventure H otel, 1985: “ Portm an [the architect] has only
b u ilt large vivarium s fo r the upper m iddle classes, protected by asto­
nishingly complex security systems.
“ [. . .W ]here the aim o f P ortm an is to dissim ulate and ‘hum anize’ the
fortress function o f his b uildings, another postm odernist vanguard is in ­
creasingly iconizing th a t fu n ctio n in its designs. Recently opened o ff W a ll
Street, 33 M aiden Lane by P h ilip Johnson is a 26-story im ita tio n o f the
T ow er o f London, advertised as the ‘state o f the a rt in lu x u ry accomm oda­
tio n . . . w ith emphasis on security.’ M eanw hile Johnson and his partner,
John Burgee, are w o rkin g on the prospective ‘T ru m p C astle’ [ . . . ] .
A ccording to its advance p u b lic ity , T ru m p Castle w ill be a m edievalized
Bonaventure, w ith six coned and crenellated cylinders, plated in gold leaf,
and surrounded by a real m oat w ith draw bridges” (M ik e D avis, New L e ft
Review no. 151, pp. 112-13).
357__________

Afterimages

In the 1930s, P hilip Johnson’s m inim alist architecture helped define the tenets o f architec­
tural modernism, in the s p irit o f Le Corbusier. By the late 1970s, his skyscrapers, classic
examples o f “ postmodernism ,” had decorated tops referencing historical styles— here the
characteristic curve o f Chippendale fu rn itu re — and combined conflicting styles from various
historical eras. A t ground level, the A T & T bu ild in g incorporates the glass architecture o f the
arcades style (rig h t). Photograph © D anielle M o re tti

Premodem:
O n early nineteenth-century fashion: “ ‘We have seen something that was
never before presented: marriages o f styles th a t one had form erly thought
un m a n a g e a b le [. . . ] ’ ” (V , p. 283).

O n the nineteenth-century in te rio r: “ The change o f styles: G othic, Per­

sian, Renaissance, etc. T h a t means: Superimposed over the in te rio r o f the
bourgeois d in in g room is laid a banquet room o f Caesara Borgia; out o f
the bedroom o f the housewife there arises a G othic chapel; the w orkroom
o f the master o f the house shimmers iridescently, transform ed into the
cham ber o f a Persian sheik. Photomontage, w hich fixes such images for
us, corresponds to the most p rim itiv e form o f perception o f these genera­
tions” (V , p. 282).

O n architecture: “ ‘T he architectonic aspects o f later w o rld ’s fairs:

‘m a rryin g together the most contrary tastes’ [G o th ic, O rie n ta l, Egyptian,
and classical Greek] in the most varied geometric form s’ ” (V , p. 264).
358

Afterimages

Photograph © Danielle M o re tti

Above: Galleries St. H ube rt, Brussels, first m onumental arcades construction, m id-nineteenth
century. Below: A T & T b u ild ing, detail o f m onumental arcade at ground level.
359_________
Afterimages

T he Passagen-Werk suggests th a t it makes no sense to divide the era o f

capitalism in to form a list “ m odernism ” and h isto rica lly eclectic “ post­
m odernism ,” as these tendencies have been there from the start o f indus­
tria l culture. T he paradoxical dynam ics o f novelty and repetition sim ply
repeat themselves anew.
M odernism and postm odernism are not chronological eras, bu t p o liti­
cal positions in the century-long struggle between a rt and technology. I f
modernism expresses utopian longing by a n ticip a tin g the reconciliation o f
social fu nction and aesthetic form , postm odernism acknowledges their
no n ide n tity and keeps fantasy alive. Each position thus represents a par­
tia l tru th ; each w ill recur “ anew,” so long as the contradictions o f com­
m odity society are not overcome.
3 6 0 __________

Afterimages

M e d ia S tars: P o litic s and th e E n te rta in m e n t In d u s try

Les Miserables Reaganomics

Career opportunities

ELECTIONS OU 7 JANVIER
B E D T IM E FOR
BO N ZO

or. Reagan's to project a g<

AMNIST1E
ABOLITION DE LA PEINE DE MOOT
DISSOLUTION DE L'ASSEMBLEE
RENTREE DU EDUVERNEMENT A PARIS
LEVEE IMMEDIATE DE L ETAT DE SIEGE
the most ridleuiouafy trying situations'
three decades U ter when ho was to make tl
reactionary and greed-oriented program In the history of
the RapoMc doom as <tufrtte«serrtial.y American as moor*
apple pie. In the end, Sonar's trainer has made monkeys
of us aiT (Andrew Sarrh, VJIepe Vok*}, Co-sponsored
with Senior Week.
1951 tM 1 hr. 23 min. USA

Photomontage © M icha el Busch and Leslie Gazaway

361

Afterimages

T h e L ite ra ry M a rk e t

Above: G randville, Un autre monde, 1844 Below. Photograph © Jo a n Sage, 1988

362

Afterimages

L a n d m a rk in R o b o tic D esign

IB M ’s 7575 Robot, designed by Randall M a rtin , w inner o f the 1987 ID E A for machinery.
Courtesy o f lB M
363

Afterimages

U r-fo rm o f R o b o tics

G or-don,” latest o f a long line o f robots in human form, explains computer software in the
InfoQ uest C enter,” A T & T building, New Y ork. Photograph © Danielle M o rc tti
364_________

Afterimages

C h ild h o o d R e ce p tio n

Above: Street hawkers w ith w ind-up toys outside a Paris Arcade, 1936. M iro ir du monde

Below: “ G or-don” talking w ith children in the A T & T InfoQ uest Center, 1988. Photograph
© Danielle M o re tti
365

Afterimages

A u to m a to n s

Photograph © G ra nt Kester

M echanical dolls were an invention o f bourgeois culture. In the

nineteenth century, these autom atons were common. As late as 1896 “ the
d o ll m o tif had a socially critic a l meaning. Thus: ‘Y ou have no idea how
these autom atons and dolls become repugnant, how one breathes re lie f in
m eeting a fu lly natural being in this society* ” (V , p. 848). Iro n ic a lly , i f
pla yin g w ith dolls was o rig in a lly the way children learned the n u rtu rin g
behavior o f a d u lt social relations, it has become a tra in in g ground for
learning reified ones. The goal o f little girls now is to become a “ d o ll.”
T h is reversal epitomizes that w hich M a rx considered characteristic o f the
ca p ita list-in d u stria l mode o f production: M achines th a t b rin g the promise
o f the natu ra liza tio n o f h u m a n ity and the hum anization o f nature result
instead in the m echanization o f both.
366

Afterimages

T h in L in e B etw een F act and F ic tio n

T tfE N E W Y O R K T IM E S , S U N D A Y , N O V E M B E R 20, 19S3

A host of sm all labs

grapples w ith the
changing technologies
of the new field.
By N. R. KLEINFIELD

A woman whose jo b was fin a l inspection grabbed something resem bling a

bracket fo r w all bookshelves that for some reason had a shiny doorknob
stuck onto the end. I t was actually an a rtific ia l hip. “ H ere’s a shoulder,”
remarked a co-worker, p lu ckin g w hat looked like a skinny faucet out o f a
rack. “ I believe this is a w ris t.”
T h is was in R utherford, N.J., at the H owm edica Inc. a rtific ia l parts
factory, one o f m any stops in a w ide-ranging odyssey in to the real-life
w orld o f the bionic man. T hey make hips here. A n d knees. Some shoul­
ders. A few wrists, elbows, ankles, toes, thum bs. Every so often, a ja w .
In the m ain, the parts were being fabricated out o f a rugged chrome
cobalt alloy. “ Some surgeons th in k th a t these things are made in some
sort o f carpentry shop,” remarked D a vid Fitzgerald, H ow m edica’s execu­
tive vice president. “ W e use space-age materials. W e could m anufacture
fan blades fo r je t airplanes here i f we wanted to .” H e was not kid d in g . T he
m aterial fo r hips and knees is used by the aerospace in d u stry to make fan
blades.
M ost parts come in several stock sizes, like sweaters: sm all, m edium ,
large and extra-large. H a rd -to -fit people are the dom ain o f the custom
departm ent. Somebody there was w o rkin g on an a w fu lly big knee. Some­
one else was assigned to a jo b for Goodyear. The tire people had recently
happened upon a gia n t sea tu rtle m inus a flip p e r th a t had been d in n er for
a shark. C ould H ow m edica perhaps produce an a rtific ia l g iant sea tu rtle
wing? W ell, it w ould try.
“ W e’ve done some s tu ff for famous people,” said one o f the custom
men. “ A rth u r G odfrey had one o f o ur h ip cups in him . W e made a skull
plate for a gangster. I made Casey Stengel’s hip. I also made up an
ashtray for Casey w ith the same kind o f hip on it. G ot a kick out o f th a t
[• • •]•”
367

Afterimages

T he in d u stry is highly amorphous. Sales and p ro fit figures are closely

guarded, though executives a d m it th a t the money is good in d u p lica tin g
the body. W hen one tallies the estimated sales o f all the body parts, the
num ber exceeds 1 b illio n . B illio n s more are the carrots o f the future.
“ Everybody is a potential custom er,” one executive remarked. “ I f you
live to be 70 or 80, then the odds are p re tty good that something inside you
is going to go. Y o u r h ip could go to m o rro w .”

“ T he th ird proposal was long-range and fa r more drastic. I t advocated

ectogenesis, prostheticism and universal transception. O f man only the
bra in w ould rem ain, b e a u tifu lly encased in duraplast; a globe equipped
w ith sockets, plugs and clasps. A nd powered by atom ic b a tte ry— so the
ingestion o f nutrim ents, now physically superfluous, w ould take place
only through illusion, program m ed accordingly. The brain case could be
connected to any num ber o f appendages, apparatuses, machines, vehicles,
etc. T h is prostheticization process w ould be spread out over two decades,
w ith p a rtia l replacements m andatory fo r the first ten years, leaving all
unnecessary organs at home; fo r example, when going to the theater one
w ould detach one’s fo rn ica tio n and defecation modules and hang them in
the closet [ . . . ] . Mass production w ould keep the m arket supplied w ith
custom-made interna l components and accessories, in clu d in g brain-tracks
for home railw ays, that w ould enable the heads themselves to ro ll from
room to room , an innocent diversion.”

— F rom Futurological Congress, a science fictio n novel by Stanislaw Lem,

1971
368

Afterimages

T h e A rc h a ic as A n tic ip a to ry : U r-fo rm s o f F e m in is m

“ W onder W om a n” by W illia m Marston, 1940s

© A ll Am erican Comics, Inc.

In the context o f the technological revolution, the utopian image o f the

Am azon wom an returns w ith a brand new meaning, suggesting technolo­
gy’s capacity to liberate both nature and hum anity.
369

Afterimages

W is h Im a g e as R u in : E te rn a l F le e tin g n e ss

“ N o form o f eternalizing is so s ta rtlin g as th a t o f the ephemeral and the

fashionable forms w hich the wax figure cabinets preserve for us. A n d w ho­
ever has once seen them must, like A ndre Breton [.Nadja, 1928], lose, his
heart to the female form in the Musee G ra vin who adjusts her stocking
garter in the corner o f the loge” (V , p. 117).

W ax figure in the com er o f the loge, Musee G ravin, 1984. Photograph © Susan Buck-M orss

The wax wom an to whom both Breton and B enjam in lost th e ir hearts s till
adjusts her garter, as she has fo r h a lf a century. H e r ephemeral act is
frozen in tim e. She is unchanged, defying organic decay. B u t her dress is
musty; her figure and h a ir are no longer fashionable; she has clearly aged.
370

Afterimages

Solar-powered p rin tin g press, b u ilt by Abel Pifre, 1880. A t an exhibition that year in the
J a rd in des Tuilleries, it p rin ted out 500 copies o f the Solar Journal.

R ealized F ic tio n

Nuclear Power, from the science fiction magazine, Amazing Stories, October, 1939.
Illu s tra tio n © Frank R. Paul
371

Afterimages

“ O n ly h u nting and nomad people could sustain life there. N orthern cities o f once great
im portance were deserted. The population streamed southw ard.” Illu stra tio n © Frank
R. Paul, from Bruno Burgel, “ The Cosmic C loud ,” Wonder Stories Quarterly 3 (fall 1931) :6.
(Reprinted by permission o f the representative o f the Estate o f Frank R. Paul, Forrest
J. Ackerm an, H ollyw ood, C A .)
372_________

Afterimages

T h e P ersiste n ce o f M e m o ry

Above: “ The Persistence o f M e m o ry,” 1931. Painting by Salvador D a li

Below: A ugust 9, 1945.

Left: The hands on the watch show the tim e the atom ic bomb h it H iroshim a: 8:15 a.m.
(Peace M e m oria l M useum , H iroshim a) Right: A clock records the instant o f the bom b blast
at Nagasaki: 11:02 a.m. (August 9, 1945). (A tom ic Bomb M a terials Center, Nagasaki)
373

Afterimages

E m p ty T im e

Postcard dispensed from a time machine outside the Centre Pompidou, Paris, that records
the seconds rem aining u n til the year 2000— “ T o pass the time, d rin k a Cointreau!” (Spring
1987).
374

Afterimages

“ F a sh io n : M r. D e a th , M r. D e a th !” (V , p . 110)

Presentation de quelques nouveautes

Magazin de Nouveaute

Fashion is the “ eternal recurrence o f the new” in the mass produced form
o f the “ always the same” (I, p. 677).
375

Afterimages

These photographs o f the newest fashions in weaponry were published in

1911, in an exposure of the financial interests behind the arms build-up,
and a warning against the possibility o f W orld W ar I. They were re­
printed in 1933 in a special issue o f Crapouillot on armaments, as an expo­
sure o f the persistence o f these financial interests, and a warning against
the possibility o f W orld W ar I I .

“ There is a recorded tradition that is catastrophe” (V, p. 591).

“ T ha t it ‘keeps going on like this* is the catastrophe” (V, p. 592).

Notes

In tro d u c tio n to P a rt I

1. W alter Benjam in, Gesammelte Schriften, 6 vols., eds. R o lf Tiedem ann and H erm ann
Schweppenhauser, w ith the collaboration o f Theodor W . A dorno and Gershom Scholem
(F ran kfurt am M a in : S uhrkam p Verlag, 1972— ), vol. V : Das Passagen-Werk, ed. R o lf Tiede­
mann (1982), p. 83 (A l, 1). C itations o f Benjam in’s Gesammelte Schriften w ill hereafter be by
volume num ber ( I - V I ) . W ith in citations, my own ellipses are distinguished from those o f
Benjam in by being enclosed in brackets: [ . . . ].

2. V , p. 83 (A l, 1).

3. Letter, Benjam in to Gershom Scholem, 15 M a rch 1929, V , p. 1091.

4. The Arcades project was to embody “ a theory o f the consciousness o f history. I t is there
that I w ill find Heidegger in m y path, and I expect something s cin tilla tin g from the connect­
ing shock between our tw o very different ways o f envisioning history” (letter, Benjam in to
Scholem, 20 Jan uary 1930, V , p. 1094).

5. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 23 A p ril 1928, V , p. 1086.

6. E arly notes (1928-29), V , p. 1045 (a°, 3).

7. T he phrase is A d orno’s (sec letter, Adorno to Benjam in, 6 Novem ber 1934, V , p. 1106).

8. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 30 January 1928, V , p. 1083.

9. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 23 A p ril 1928, V . p. 1086.

10. He used the term “ Passagcnarbeit,” or sim ply “ Passagen.” T he title **Passagen-Werk” has
been given to the m anuscript by the editors o f B enjam in’s Gesammelte Schriften.

11. Gershom Scholem, W alter Benjamin: The Story o f a Friendship, eds. K aren Ready and G ary
S m ith (London: Faber &. Faber, L td . 1982), p. 135.

12. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 24 M a y 1928, V , p. 1086.

377

Notes to pages 5-9

13. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 30 Novem ber 1928, V , p. 1089.

14. Tiedem ann’s annotations are the guiding thread for any reading o f the Passagen-Werk.
W ith o u t them, even as competent a reader as Theodor A dorno was unable to decipher the
m aterial (see V , pp. 1072-73). As anyone who has worked on the Passagen-Werk w ill readily
perceive, I am indebted to Tiedem ann’s editorial w ork immeasurably.

15. Am ong these I count my own earlier work, The O rigin o f Negative Dialectics: Theodor W.
Adorno, Walter Benjamin and the Frankfurt Institute (New Y ork: M a c m illa n Free Press, 1977). For
the best intellectual biographies on Benjam in, sec Richard W olin, Walter Benjamin: An Aesthe­
tics o f Redemption (New Y ork: C olum bia U niversity Press, 1982), Bernd W itte, Walter Benjamin
(Reinbek bei H am burg: Rowohlt, 1985) and J u lia n Roberts, Walter Benjamin (A tla n tic H ig h ­
lands, N .J.: H um anities Press, 1983).

16. Ursprung des deutschen Trauerspiels, I, p. 704.

1 T e m p o ra l O rig in s

1. Ursprung des deutschen Trauerspiels, I, p. 226.

2. Scholem reports that their marriage was held together by the ir son Stefan in whom Ben­
ja m in took “ great interest,” economic need (D ora supported the fam ily as a translator d u r­
ing the worst inflatio n years), their common Jewish background, and their circle o f friends in
B erlin. T h e latte r were mostly assimilated Jews (Scholem’s own Zionism was the exception),
radical more in a cultu ral than a p o litica l sense. Nonetheless, already by A p ril 1921, “ the
disintegration o f W a lte r’s and D ora’s marriage became evident.” In the nine years “ u n til
the ir divorce, this situation remained unchanged and was interrupted only by W a lte r’s long
trips and by periods in w hich he took a separate room for him se lf” (Gcrshom Scholem,
W alter Benjamin: The Story o f a Friendship, cds. K aren Ready and G ary Sm ith [London: Faber
& Faber, L td ., 1982], pp. 93-94).

3. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 85 (see also ibid., p. 54). In the fall o f 1923 (for those who wish
to find significance in the event), “ B enjam in’s father became gravely ill and had to have his
rig h t leg am putated” (ibid., p. 121). In 1924, Benjam in saw the archaic torso o f A pollo in the
Museum at Naples that had inspired R ilke’s poem o f the same name (ibid ., p. 64). N ot long
afterw ard he w rote an aphorism entitled “ torso” : “ O n ly he who knows how to view his own
past as the monstrous product o f com pulsion and need w ould be capable o f m aking it o f
utm ost value for him self in the present. For th a t w hich one has lived is a best comparable to a
lovely statue tha t has had all o f its lim bs broken o ff in transit, and now yields nothing b u t the
cosdy block, out o f w hich he has to hew the image o f his future” (Einbahnstrasse, IV , p. 118).

4. Letter, B enjam in to Scholem, I, p. 875.

5. The in fla tio n severely affected the finances o f B enjam in’s father, who put pressure on him ,
the eldest son, to take a position in a bank (see the excellently researched article by Gary
Sm ith, “ Benjam ins B erlin,” Wisseruchaft in B erlin, eds. T ilm a n n Buddcnsieg et al. [B erlin:
Gebr. M a n n Verlag, 1987], p. 101).

6. A t the tim e Scholem noted in his diary: “ I f some day Benjam in lectures on philosophy in a
substantial way, not a soul w ill understand him , but his course could be tremendous i f there
were true questioning instead o f label-sticking” (Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 34).7

7. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 79.

378

Notes to pages 9-10

8. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 31 January 1918, W alter Benjam in, Brie/e, 2 vols., cds.
Gershom Scholem and Theodor W . A dorno (F ran kfurt am M a in : Schrkamp Verlag, 1978),
v o l.l, p. 169 (see also p. 171).

9. Benjam in had rather surprising academic tastes. W hile dismissing more acclaimed con­
tem porary philosophers like the neo-Kantians H einrich R ickert and H erm ann Cohen, or the
phenomcnologists Husserl and Heidegger, he found Franz von Baader “ more impressive
than Schelling” (Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 22), and admired greatly the “ gnostic C hris­
tian” Florens Christian Range (ibid., p. 115-17) and the Jewish mystic Franz Rosenzweig
(ibid., p. 138). W hile in M u n ic h in 1916, he had hoped to study w ith the Lebensphilosoph
L u d w ig Klages, whose w riting s on graphology “ attracted him greatly,” bu t the latte r had
left for Switzerland (ib id ., pp. 19-20). Nonetheless, even in Benjam in’s student years, at no
tim e had a professor played the role o f mentor. Intellectual stim ulation came m ainly from his
friends (who for their pa rt were repeatedly impressed by his “ genius” ). Scholem, as one o f
the closest, recalled: “ We did not take the philosophy teachers very seriously [ . . . ]. We
followed our stars w ith o u t academic guides” (ibid., p. 21).

10. Benjam in, letter to Scholem, 10 M a y 1924, Brie/e, vol. 1, pp. 344-45. T h e most famous
Naples philosophy professor, Benedetto Croce, “ was present at the meeting only at an effec­
tively ostentatious distance” (ib id ., p. 344).

11. As for B enjam in’s future colleagues at the F rankfu rt Institut fu r Sozialforschung, he did not
yet have contact w ith H orkheim er, Lowenthal, or Marcuse, and only met the eleven-ycar-
younger A dorno briefly through the ir m utual friend Siegfried K racauer ir. 1923. A dorno
remembered his first “ impression o f Benjam in as one o f the most significant human beings
who ever confronted me” (Theodor W . Adorno, “ E rinnerungen,” Uber Walter Benjamin
ed. R o lf Tiedem ann [F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkamp Verlag, 1970], p. 70).
,
12. Benjam in had no desire to teach. Students and lectures, he feared, w ould “ assail my tim e
m urderously” (letter, B enjam in to Scholem, 19 February 1925, Brie/e, vol. 1, p. 373). A dorno
has w ritte n: “ the an tiquarian in him felt itself drawn to the academic life in much the same
ironic manner as K afka felt draw n to insurance companies” (Theodor W . A dorno, “ A Por­
tra it o f W alter B enjam in,” Prisms, trans. Samuel and Shierry W eber [London: N eville Spear­
man, 1967] p. 232).

13. H is m ajor works had been a study o f Goethe’s Wahlverwandschaften, and a dissertation on
“ The Concept o f C riticism in German R om anticism ” (I).

14. “ Im p erial Panorama: A T o u r o f German In fla tio n ” went through several revisions be­
fore being published in One Way Street (Einbahnstrasse) in 1928. B enjam in’s editor has d istin ­
guished the versions as follows (see IV , p. 907):

M l = m anuscript presented to Scholem in fall 1923 (u ntitled): IV , pp. 928-35.

M 2 = “ earlier, much more extensive m anuscript” ( IV , p. 907) entitled “ Thoughts tow ard
an Analysis o f the C ondition o f Central Europe” : IV , pp. 916-28.
J 7 = 1927 D utch version, includ ing sections (differently ordered) found in M 1 and a (we
are not told w hich sections are found in which source), and a newly w ritte n preface
(not found in any other version), a German translation o f w hich is included: IV , p.
935.
a = text published in Einbahnstrasse in 1928: IV , pp. 85-148.

Because these revisions document B enjam in’s move to M a rx between 1923 and 1928, ex­
cerpts from “ Im p erial Panorama: A T o u r o f German In fla tio n ” cited below w ill be identified
as to the specific version in w hich they appear, and the differences compared to the final
version o f 1928 (a) w ill be noted. W hat becomes evident throught this procedure is how
379

Notes to pages 10-11

m uch— or, rather, how little — Benjam in needed to change the text in order to incorporate a
M a rxis t orientation (and thus how close he was already in 1923 to that orientation— or,
rather, how his loose interpretation o f M arxism allowed it to fit his previous thin kin g).

15. “ Instead of, at the very least, achieving a competent assessment o f the impotence and
implicatedness o f one’s own existence, whereby one m ight possibly detach it from the back­
ground o f universal delusion, a b lind determ ination to save the prestige o f one’s personal
existence is triu m p h in g everywhere” (‘‘ Im p erial Panorama” [ M 2], IV , p. 928. Essentially
unchanged in Einbaknstrasse [a], IV , p. 98).

16. ‘‘ Im p e ria l Panorama” ( M 1), IV , p. 928. Essentially the same in Einbaknstrasse (a), IV ,
pp. 94 -95, except for the significant substitution o f “ classes” [Schichten] for “ m illions” in the
last sentence. Note, however, that the continuation o f M 1 (1923) has, surprisingly, an explic­
it reference to revolution that has been omitted in a (1928). I t grants that “ oppressed people”
from their “ own a u th o rity ,” by form ing “ an authentic conception o f liberation, m ight set a
tim e lim it to the continuation o f such sta b ility through the idea o f revolution. B ut such
intendons are far from the bourgeois manner o f speaking. Even trying to restrain the [. . .]
process o f decline doesn’t come to their minds, precisely because they consider the disin­
tegration o f a society or a nation as an exceprional circumstance that w ill restore itse lf auto­
m atically, even though history clearly shows the opposite” ( M 1, IV , pp. 928-29).

17. M 1, IV , p. 935. Essentially unchanged in Einbaknstrasse (a), IV , p. 96.

18. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 119.

19. From 1915 to “ at least” 1927, “ the religious sphere assumed a central im portance for
Benjam in that was u tte rly removed from fundam ental doubt [ . . .]. God was real for him
[ . . . ] ” (Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 56). Cf. chapter 7.

20. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 116.

21. In B enjam in’s earliest confrontation w ith Zionism (1912), he took the position: “ ‘The
best Jews today are linked to a valuable process in European culture our
cultu ral consciousness forbids us ideally from ever restricting the concept o f culture to any
single pa rt o f hu m a n ity’ “ ‘cultu ral Zionism [ . . . ] sees Jewish values everywhere and works
for them. Here I w ill stay, and I believe I m ust stay.’ ” These excerpts, from B enjam in’s
correspondence w ith L u d w ig Strauss (in the Strauss collection o f the Jewish N ational and
U n iversity L ib ra ry , Jerusalem ), are cited and translated by Anson Rabinbach in his im por­
tan t article (w hich corrects and modifies Scholem’s account o f B enjam in’s early Judaism ):
“ Between E nlightenm ent and Apocalypse: Benjam in, Bloch and M odern German Jewish
Messianism, ” New German Critique 34 (W in te r 1985): 78-124 (see pp. 94 -97). Rabinbach
rig h tly concludes tha t for Benjam in, Zionism “ was an alternative only i f it remained in the
sphere o f ideas— as the utopian promise o f cultu ral universality, not politics” (ibid ., p. 98).
A p a rtial pu blication o f the Bcnjamin-Strauss correspondence can be found in I I , pp. 836-
44.

22. Scholem reports a 1916 conversation w ith Benjam in, when “ for the first tim e the question
arose w hether it was one’s du ty to go to Palestine. Benjam in criticized the ‘ag ricultural
Z ionism ’ tha t I championed, saying that Zionism w ould have to wean its e lf o f three things:
‘ the a g ricu ltu ra l orientation, the racial ideology, and [M a rtin ] B uber’s “ blood and experi­
ence” argum ents’ ” (Scholem, Walter Benjamin, pp. 28 -29). Scholem explains that Buber took
a “ positive stance” toward “ the so-called ‘experience* o f the w a r” then in progress (ibid ., p.
7), whereas Benjam in (feigning illness) managed to avoid m ilita ry service, although he was,
Scholem insists, against “ this pa rticu la r w ar,” and not a pacifist by ideological conviction.
“ T h a t sim ply was not his style” (ibid., pp. 24-25).
380

Notes to pages 11-13

23. Benjam in, cited in Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 122.

24. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 122.

25. Asja Lacis, Revolutiondr im B eruf: Berichte uber proletarisches Theater, uber Meyerhold, Brecht,
Benjamin und Piscator, ed. H ildegaard Brenner (M u n ich : Regner & Bernhard, 1971), p. 431.

26. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 7 J u ly 1924, Briefe, vol. 1, p. 351.

27. Sec B enjam in’s w ritings from that period, pa rtic u la rly I, pp. 7-104; also R ichard W olin,
Walter Benjamin: An Aesthetics o f Redemption (New Y ork: C olum bia U niversity Press, 1982), pp.
4-13.

28. Scholem recalls that generally Benjam in had an “ utter aversion to discussing the p o litica l
events o f the day” ( Walter Benjamin, p. 23). Benjam in then s till completely rejected “ the idea
o f a dicta torsh ip o f the proletariat: “ I w ould say tha t our sympathies were to a great extent
w ith the Social R evolutionary Party in Russia [ . . . ] ” (ibid., p. 78). A nd on the attempted
Socialist R evolution in H ungary in 1919: “ He regarded the H ungarian soviet republic as a
childish aberration, and the only thing that touched him was the fate o f Georg Lukacs,
B loch’s closest friend; at tha t tim e people (m istakenly) feared that he had been arrested and
m ight be shot” (ibid ., p. 80).

29. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 7.

30. In 1927 Benjam in observed: “ I belong to the generation tha t is today between th rity and
forty. The intelligentsia o f this generation is surely the last to have enjoyed a thoroughly
apolitical upbringing. T he w ar drove those elements which were farthest L e ft into the camp
o f a more o r less radical pacifism [ . . . ] ; [its ] radicalization [ . . .ow ed] more to the Rev­
olutio n o f 1918 which failed due to the petty-bourgeois parvenu s p irit o f German Social
Dcmoncracy, than to the w a r itself.” In the twenties it became increasingly evident that
“ consciously or unconsciously,” the allegedly “ free” intelligentsia “ worked for a class” (V I,
p. 781).

31. Letter, Benjam in to L u d w ig Strauss, 7 January 1913, I I , p. 842. T w o years after Ben­
ja m in ’s encounter w ith Lacis, he s till spoke in s im ila r terms: “ [ . . . ] I [ . . . ] consider the
communists ‘goals’ to be nonsense and non-existent; but this doesn’t take away from the
value o f com m unist action one iota, because the latte r is the corrective o f the com m unist
goals, and because meaningful po litica l goals do not exist” (letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 29
M a y 1926, Briefe, vol. 1, p. 426).

32. Scholem reports that reading Geist der Utopie made Benjam in im pa tient because he could
not approve o f everything about it. Benjam in adm ired some o f B loch’s w riting s; others
“ made him fly into a rage” (Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 109.) O n B enjam in’s reception o f
Bloch, see Rabinbach, “ Between E nlightenm ent and Apocalypse,” pp. 109-21.

33. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 56.

34. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 13. T his is from an early conversation (1915) w ith Scholem,
in w hich Benjam in discussed “ the question o f w hat a historical w ork w ould look like i f it
were actually based on h is to ry ” (ib id .).

35. N ot history, bu t m aterial nature was meaningful, and in this sense, m ysticism and even
anim ism were more adequate interpretive schemata than Hegel’s philosophical abstraction
(cf. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, pp. 30-31).

36. Scholem, Walter Benjamin, p. 37.

381

N ote s to pages 1 3 -1 4

37. Scholcm, W alter Benjam in, p. 37.

38. Benjam in, cited in Scholem, W alter Benjam in, p. 59 (cf. p. 13).

39. E rnst Bloch, “ E rinnerung,” Uber W alter Benjam in, m it Beitragen von Theodor W . Adorno
et al., (F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkamp Verlag, 1968), p. 17.

40. See “ U b e r Sparache U berhaupt und U ber die Sprache des Menschen,” I I , pp. 140-57;
see also V I (published 1986) for previously unavailable m aterial on this notoriously d ifficu lt
side o f B enjam in’s early philolsophy o f language. T w o monographs that deal inte llig ently
w ith B enjam in’s Sprachpkilosophie are W in fric d M enninghaus, W alter Benjam ins Theorie der
Sprachmagie (F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1980) and Liselotte W iesenthal, Z u r
Wissenschaftstheorie W alter Benjam ins' (F ran kfurt am M a in : A thenaiim , 1973). See also the
(dubiously) n ih ilis t reading o f B enjam in’s language theory (w hich ends w ith a b rillia n t read­
ing o f a Passagen-Werk entry on the place du M aroc) by M ichael W . Jennings in C hapter 3 o f his
recent, extremely w ell-w ritten book, D ia le ctica l Images: W alter Benjam in’s Theory o f L ite ra iy C ri­
ticism (Ithaca: C ornell U niversity Press, 1987), pp. 82-120. O n B enjam in’s theory o f lan­
guage, I have learned much from papers by Daniel Purdy, “ W alter B enjam in’s B lotter:
Soaking up the D ialectical Im age” (C ornell U niversity, D epartm ent o f German Studies,
1986), and C hristiane von Bulow , “ H isto ry, M etaphor and T ru th in Benjam in” (U nive rsity
o f C alifornia, Irv in e , D epartm ent o f English and C om parative Lite ratu re).

41. M ‘ , IV , p. 931.

42. a, IV , p. 97 (italics m ine).

43. Scholem dismisses the changes thus (w itho ut stating precisely w hat they are) in W alter
Benjam in, pp. 118-19.

44. “ T he change can stand as the m otto o f his p o litica l radicalization” (publ. note, W alter
Benjam in, One Way Street and Other W ritings, trans. E dm und Jephcott and K ingsley Shorter
[London: N L B , 1979], p. 34). Yes. B ut consider the follow ing. As late as 1927, the D utch
translation o f “ Im p e ria l Panorama” (J 7) contained an introductio n that, undoubtedly by
Benjam in, “ has a counterpart in no other version” (ed. note, IV , p. 935), and w hich com­
bines images o f theology and politics (as well as nature and history), fusing them quite
effortlessly in to one: “ W ith the end o f the four-year w ar, infla tio n began in Germany. I t has
been raging now for eight years, s triking firs t one country then another, stopping only for a
few months o r weeks. B ut for the ru lin g class in a ll o f Europe these months and weeks are
already enough to keep proclaim ing the restoration o f “ stable prew ar relations.” B ut the fact
that the w ar its e lf (w hich they w ant to forget) was the stabilization o f these relations—
followed consequently to the po in t o f madness— and that its end coincides w ith the end o f
ju s t these relations, this they don’ t understand. W hat irrita tes them, like bad weather that
w on’ t go away, is in fact and tru th the dow nfall o f the ir w orld , the low barom etric pressure o f
the economic situation tha t has lasted in Germany for years, for the first time, due to this,
indicator, makes consideration o f a new flood possible.
“ T o incite this flood is the business not o f history b u t politics; the affair not o f the chroni­
clers, b u t o f the prophets” (J 7, IV , p. 935).

45. “ [ . . .F ]o u r years ago I could have made Judaism a maxim . N ow I can no longer do
th a t” ; “ For Judaism is for me in no way an end in itself, but instead a most distinguished
bearer and representative o f the in te lle ct” (letter, Benjam in to Strauss, Novem ber 1912, I I ,
p. 838). O f course, the same was true o f B enjam in’s reception o f M a rx. He found not M a rxist
“ dogma,” b u t the “ a ttitu d e ” (H altu n g ) o f C om m unism “ oblig atory” (letter, Benjam in to
M a x Rychner, 7 M a rch 1931, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 524).
382____________________

Notes to pages 14-17

46. Text w ritte n 1 M a y 1927, intended as an introductio n for a published version o f Ben­
ja m in ^ “ M oskauer Tagebuch” ( V I, p. 782). T h is publication did not take place.

47. “ Programm eines proletarischen K indertheaters” I I , p. 768. “ T h e proletariat cannot

pass its class interests onto the young generation through the un fair means o f an ideology
w hich is geared to suppress the c h ild ’s suggestibility. [ . . . ] P roletarian education proves its
superiority by guaranteeing to children the fu lfillm e n t o f the ir childhood” (ib id .). These
quotations are from a description o f the philosophy behind the proletarian c hildren’s theater,
w ritte n collaboratively by Lacis and Benjam in in 1928. Lacis has described her conception:
“ I was convinced tha t one could awaken and develop children by means o f p la y” (Lacis,
R evo lu tion s im B e rnft p. 22), and in C apri, Benjam in showed “ an extraordinary interest in i t ”
(ibid ., pp. 25 -26).

48. Lacis, R evo lu tion s im B e ru f pp. 43-44. Lacis continued: “ A t that tim e I wasn’ t satisfied
w ith his answers. I asked w hether he also saw analogies in the w orld views o f the Baroque
dramatists and Expressionists, and what class interests they expressed. He answered vaguely
and then subm itted that he was at the moment reading Lukacs and was beginning to become
interested in a m aterialist aesthetics. A t the time, in C apri, I d id n ’ t understand correctly the
connection between allegory and modern poetry. In retrospect, I now see how perceptively
W a lte r Benjam in saw through the modern problem o f form. A lread y in the 1920s allegory
emerges in the ‘A git-prop* pieces and in the plays o f Brecht (‘ M ahagonny,’ ‘Das Badener
Lehrstiick vom Einverstandnis*) as a fu lly valued means o f expression. In plays in the West,
for example in the dramas o f Genet, also those by Peter Weiss, ritu a l is an im p o rta n t factor”
(ib id ., p. 44).

49. Benjam in, letter to Scholem 13 June 1924, B riefe, vol. 1, p. 347. I t was in this letter that
Benjam in first mendoned meeting Lacis (not yet by name).

50. See letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 22 December 1924, B riefe , vol. 1, p. 365.

51. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 22 December 1924, B riefe, vol. 1, p. 368.

52. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 22 December 1924, B riefe , vol. 1, p. 367.

53. I, pp. 209.

54. I, p. 208.

55. IV , p. 85.

56. IV , p. 85.

57. IV , p. 85.

58. IV , p. 85.

59. “ T h e treatise is an A ra b ic form . Its exterior is continuous and unm arked like the facades
o f A rab ia n buildings, the a rtic u la tio n o f w hich begins only in the inne r courtyard. So too, the
articulated structure o f the treatise is not perceptible from the exterior, b u t opens its e lf up
on ly from w ith in . I f it is constructed as chapters, these are noted, not by verbal titles bu t by
num erals.” (Einbahnstrasse, IV , p. 111).

60. IV , p. 125.

61. M 2, IV , p. 917 (not in a ).

383

Notes to pages 17-18

62. IV , p. 109.

63. IV , p. 146.

64. W itte calls it “ one o f the most significant works o f the German language avant-garde
litera ture o f the twenties” (B em d W itte , W alter Benjam in [Reinbek bei H am burg: Rowohlt,
1985], p. 65). Devoid, however, o f fu tu ris t sensitivities despite the prevalence o f technologi­
cal images, this w ork does not claim for modernist aesthetics any intrin sic m erit. Even as it
adopts the “ ready language” o f the placard, it acknowledges that the revolution in p rin t has
taken a toll (IV , p. 103). A nd, w hile One Way Street is at times id en tifiably M a rx is t— Scholem
refers to “ M a rx is t term inology” in it as still “ merely a kind o f distant thunder” (Scholem,
W alter Benjam in , p. 34)— it warns against rom anticizing the class struggle by projecting it
onto the screen o f history as a m odem myth, a dram a o f proletarian heroes vanquishing
bourgeois foes: “ The concept o f class w arfare can lead to error. I t does not have to do w ith a
tria l o f strength in which is decided: w ho wins? [ . . . ] T o th in k thus is to rom anticize and
igonorc the facts. For whether the bourgeoisie wins or is defeated in the struggle, it is con­
demned to decline due to internal contradictions that w ill become fatal as they develop. The
question is on ly whether its dow nfall w ill come from its e lf or from the proletariat. [ . . . ]
P olitical intervention, danger and tim in g are technical— not k n ig h tly” (IV , p. 122). The
irre versib ility o f the bourgeoisie’s decline is for Benjam in sim ply a statement o f fact; but so is
the emergence o f new cultu ral forms, and as an engineer in the service o f the proletariat, he is
experim enting w ith their expressive potential. Thus, although modernist aesthetics and
M a rx is t politics both function in the text, they are not presented as identical. Rather, the
revolutionized media and revolutionary politics are “ allies,” as he says in his criticism o f
K a rl K raus, the Viennese w rite r whose lite ra ry jo u rn a l D ie Packet singlehandedly took on
jo u rn a lis m ’s degenerating effects on language: “ In ur-old armor, grin ning w ith w rath, a
Chinese idol brandishing draw n swords in both hands, he [K rau s] dances a war dance
before the bu rial v a u lt o f the German language [ . . . ]. W hat is more helpless than his con­
version? W hat more im potent than his hum anity? W hat is more hopeless than his struggle
against the press? W hat docs he know o f the forces that are in fact and tru th his allies?” (IV ,
P- 121).

65. Cf. I, pp. 329-33.

66. “ In an aversion to animals the dom inant sensitivity is a fear o f being recognized by them
through contact” (IV , p. 90).

67. In his Trauerspiel study, Benjam in referred to “ the most current dram atic experiments”
(i.e., Expressionism) that attempted to “ rehabilitate” the “ best parts” o f Baroque drama; he
judged these attempts as “ indeed, in v a in ” (I, p. 390).

68. Benjam in describes the city, tra d itio n a lly the fortress o f the bourgeoisie, as crum bling,
besieged from w ith o u t by highways and from w ith in by new architectural “ monstrosities”
( IV , p. 100). For the centrality o f cru m bling ruins in Baroque allegory, see I, pp. 353-55.

69. “ Freedom o f conversation is being lost. [ . . . I ] t is now replaced by asking the price o f the
other person’s shoes or um brella [ . . . ]. I t is as i f one were trapped in a theater and had to
follow the play on the stage w hether one wanted to or not, and make it again and again the
subject o f one’s thoughts and speech” ( IV , p. 98).

70. “ W arm th is ebbing out o f things [ . . . ] . T h eir coldness must be compensated by [peo­
ple’s] own w arm th in order not to freeze to death [ . . . ] (IV , p. 99).

71. Here again, One Way Street provides a practical demonstration o f what the Trauerspiel study
presents theoretically, namely, the distinction between allegory and symbol as different
modes o f experiencing transi tori ness: “ Whereas in the symbol passing away is transformed
384

Notes to pages 18-22

and the transfigured face o f nature is fleetingly revealed in the lig h t o f redemption, in al­
legory there lies before one's gaze the fades hippocratica [deathmask] o f history as a petrified,
p rim itiv e landscape.’ * (I, pp. 342-43) Sec chapter 6, section 2.

72. IV , p. 92, trans. by E dm und Jccphcott and Kingsley Shorter, One Way Street and Other
W ritings (London: N L B , 1979), p. 52. T his passage was w ritte n for Lacis, to whom he read it
d u ring his trip to Moscow (“ M oskauer Tagcbuch,” V I , p. 297).

73. IV , p. 113, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, pp. 71-72.

74. IV , p. 107. T he same statement occurs in the Trauerspiel study: “ Every completed w ork is
the deathmask o f its intention*’ (I, p. 875).

75. IV , p. 138, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 95.

76. IV , p. 83.

77. I, p. 203.

78. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 30 January 1928, B rie fe, vol. 1, p. 455.

79. Interestingly, this is true as well o f B enjam in’s research procedure. He wrote to Scholem
in 1924 o f the “ eccentric acribie” he had employed in the Trauerspiel study: “ I have alone at
my disposal over 600 quotations, in the best order and most easily perused arrangem ent’*
( B riefe , p. 339), and that “ the w ritte n text is composed almost totally out o f quotations”
(ibid., p. 366). He prepared the Passagen-Werk w ith this same “ eccentric acribie,” but, to cite
him , w ith “ fiendish intensification,” as the quotations numbered in the thousands.

80. Scholem, W alter Benjam in, p. 124.

81. Benjam in’s notes for the Trauerspiel study, I, p. 918.

82. See below, chapter 7.

83. Lacis, R evolutiondr im B e ru f p. 45.

84. See the chapter, “ T he Failed Project, 1928-29,” in Scholem, W alter Benjam in, pp. 143-56.

85. “ Speaking again o f my trip [to C a p ri], in B erlin everyone agrees that the change I have
undergone is apparent” (letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 22 December 1924, B riefe, vol. 1,
p. 368).

86. Asja went (via Paris) to B erlin as well, but accompanied by Bernhard Reich (Lacis,
Revolutiondr im B eruf, p. 48).

87. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 19 February 1925, B riefe, vol. 1, p. 372.

88. Lacis said it showed “ how naive W alter was. A lthough the w ork looks properly
academic, laden w ith learned quotations, even in French and L a tin , and relates to a vast
m aterial, it is s till fu lly clear tha t no scholar wrote this book, but a poet who is in love w ith
language and applies hyperboles in order to construct a b rillia n t aphorism ” (Lacis, Revolu­
tio nd r im B eruf, p. 45).

89. Hans Cornelius, cited in the detailed, definitive account by B u rkh a rd t L ind ner, “ H a b ili-
tationsakte W alter Benjam in: U ber ein ‘akademisches Trauerspiel’ und uber ein V orka pitel
der ‘F rankfurter Schule* (H orkheim cr, A d o m o ),” Z e itsch rift f i r Literaturw issenschaft und L in g -
u is tik 53/54 (1984), p. 155.
385

Notes to pages 22-27

90. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 5 A p ril 1926, B riefe , p. 416.

91. B riefe, p. 418. When Benjam in read this “ preface” to the Trauerspiel book to Lacis d u ring
his visit to Moscow two years later, “ Asja thought, in spite o f everything, I should sim ply
w rite [on the manuscript to be published]: ‘Rejected by the U niversity o f F rankfurt am
M a in ’ ” (“ Moskauer Tagebuch,” V I, p. 326).

92. Bloch, “ E rinnerungen,” Uber W alter Benjam in , p. 22.

93. V , p. 578 (N3, 2).

94. Bloch, “ E rinnerungen,” Uber W alter Benjam in , p. 16. Bloch recalled that as foreigners in
Paris they were perhaps too dependent on each other’s company (ib id .). By the 1930s, Ben­
ja m in felt somewhat distanced from Bloch, and expressed concern that Bloch was plagiariz­
ing his ideas, p a rticularly those that belonged to the constellation o f the Passagen-Werk (see V ,
p. 1082).

95. “ D ia ry o f my Loire T r ip ” (1927), V I, p. 410.

96. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 31 M a y 1935, V . p. 1117.

97. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 25 A p ril 1930, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 513.

2 S p a tia l O rig in s

1. “ M oskauer Tagebuch,” V I , p. 306, trans. R ichard Sieburth, W alter Benjam in, Moscow
D ia ry , ed. G ary Sm ith (Cam bridge, Mass.: H arva rd U niversity Press, 1987), p. 25.

2. Asja Lacis, Revolutiondr im B e ruf: Berichte uber proletarisches Theater, uber M eyerhold, Brecht,
Benjam in und Piscator, ed. H ildegaard Brenner (M unich: Regner & Bernharad, 1971), pp.
44 -5.

3. “ Neapel,” IV , p. 314.

4. IV , p. 314.

5. IV . p. 309.

6. IV , p. 313.

7. IV , p. 308.

8. IV , p. 313.

9. IV , p. 310.

10. “ E verything that the foreigner desires, admires and pays for is ‘Pompeii.’ ‘Pom peii’
makes the gypsum im itations o f the temple ruins, the necklaces out o f lumps o f lava, and the
louse-filled personage o f the tou r guide irresistible” ( IV , p. 308).

11. IV , p. 311.

12. IV , p. 311.

13. IV , p. 315.
386

Notes to pages 27-30

14. IV , p. 312. Benjam in and L a d s make no mention o f the fasdsm that had reigned in Ita ly
for several years (but see W a lte r Benjam in, B riefe , 2 vols., eds. Gershom Scholem and
Theodor W . A dorno [F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p V crlag, 1978], vol. 1, pp. 364-65).

15. Letter, Benjam in to M a rtin Buber, 23 February 1927, B riefe, vol. 1, pp. 442-43.

16. Letter, Benjam in to H ugo von H ofm annsthal, 5 June 1927, B riefe, vol. 1, pp. 443-44.

17. “ M oskau,” IV , p. 343.

18. IV , p. 325.

19. IV , pp. 325-26.

20. IV , pp. 324-25.

21. “ Here there is nothing o f the dreary, repressed attitude o f the few proletarians who barely
dare to show themselves in the pubic space o f our museums. In Russia the proletariat has
really begun to take possession o f bourgeois culture; w ith us such undertakings appear as i f it
were planning a bu rg la ry ” ( IV , p. 323).

22. IV , p. 343.

23. A n otherwise sober and nonpredictive English trade-unions report mentions the possibil­
ity that in the future Lenin ‘ “ may even be pronounced a saint’ ” ; Benjam in adds: ‘‘Even
today, the cult o f his picture has gone im m easurably fa r” (IV , p. 348).

24. “ Moscow as it presents its e lf at the present moment allows all possibilities to be recog­
nized in schematic abbreviation: above all, those o f the failure and o f the success o f the
revolution” (letter, Benjam in to M a rtin Buber, 23 February 1927, B riefe , vol. 1, p. 443).
“ [ . . .W ]h a t w ill u ltim a te ly evolve from [the revolution] in Russia is to ta lly unpredictable.
Perhaps a tru ly socialist com m unity, perhaps something totally different” (letter, Benjam in
to J u la Radt, 26 December 1926, ib id ., p. 439).

25. “ M oskau,” IV , p. 333.

26. IV , pp. 335-36, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, “ Moscow,” One Way Street (London: N L B ,
1979), pp. 195-96.

27. “ Moskauer Tagcbuch,” V I , pp. 367-68.

28. “ M oskau,” IV , p. 320.

29. IV , pp. 337-38.

30. IV , pp. 338-39.

31. He attended theater, film s (“ on average not a ll that good” [IV , p. 340]), museums,
lite ra ry debates, and very often, giving in to his mania for collecting, he shopped.

32. He wrote to Scholem before the trip that he planned to jo in the C om m unist P arty “ by all
means sooner or la te r” (letter, Benjam in to Scholem, [2 0 -2 5 ] M a y 1925, B riefe, vol. 1, p.
382); but tha t such a move was for him experimental, a question “ less o f yes o r no, b u t o f
how long” (letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 29 M a y 1926, ibid., p. 425).

33. The “ M oskauer Taagcbuch” ( V I, pp. 292-409) combines drafts for parts o f the pub­
lished “ M oscow ” essay w ith the most personal reflections on B enjam in’s own circumstances.
387

Notes to pages 31-32

34. V I, p. 319, trans. R ichard Sieburth, Moscow D ia ry , p. 73. “ I t is becoming clearer and
clearer to me that my w ork needs some sort o f solid frame for the im m ediate future. [ . . . ]
O n ly purely external considerations hold me back from jo in in g the German C om m unist
Party. T h is w ould seem to be the righ t moment now, one w hich it w ould be perhaps danger­
ous fo r me to let pass. For precisely because membership in the P arty may very well only be
an episode for me, it is not advisable to pu t it off any longer” (ibid., p. 72 [V I, p. 358]).

35. V I , p. 358, trans. R ichard Sieburth, Moscow D ia ry , p. 72.

36. V I, p. 294.

37. Lacis, R eoolutionar im B cru f, p. 54.

38. Benjam in knew o f the ir relationship from the start, as Reich had accompanied Lacis to
C apri in the summer o f 1924, when (during Reich’s absence for a few weeks in M u nich) she
had come to know Benjam in (see Lacis, R evolutiondr im B eruf, p. 41). B oth Reich and Lacis
seem to have had other affairs w hile Benjam in was in Moscow, Lacis w ith a Red A rm y
officer, and Reich w ith Lacis’ sanitorium roommate. A nd, o f course, Benjam in was s till livin g
w ith D ora, to whom he sent a birthday greeting from Moscow.

39. “ M oskauer Tagebuch” , V I, p. 317.

40. See Bem d W itte, W alter Benjam in: D er Intellektuelle als k ritik e r. Untersuchungen iu seinem
Fruhw erk (S tuttgart: J. B. Metzlerische Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1976).

41. “ M oskauer Tagebuch,” V I, p. 409, trans. R ichard Sieburth, Moscow D ia ry , p. 121.

42. Letter, Benjam in t o ju la Cohn Radt, 26 December 1926, B riefe, vol. 1, pp. 439-40. Ju la
Cohn was a sculptor whom Benjam in had known (and loved) since his student years. I t may
be that she was w ith him in C apri when he returned there in September 1925 (see ibid.,
p. 423); the same year she married F ritz Radt. Benjam in saw her again in southern France
in the sum m er o f 1926 (ibid ., p. 439).

43. “ Goethe,” I I , pp. 705-39.

44. Benjam in had begun w ork on the article before his Moscow trip , and brought an outline
o f it w ith h im to Moscow to discuss w ith the editors. T hey were wary. T h e ir interest tempo­
ra rily increased in 1928, and Benjam in completed the Goethe entry that fall. The follow ing
spring i t was de finitively rejected. Reviewing B enjam in’s article in M a rch 1929, du ring his
last days as Soviet Comm issar for Education, A nato ly Lunacharsky wrote (29 M arch 1927)
to the Encyclopedia editors that it was “ inap pro priate” : “ I t displays considerable talent and
contains occasional insights tha t arc surprisingly acute, b u t it draws no conclusions o f any
sort. W h a t’s more, he explains neither Goethe’s place w ith in European cultu ral history nor
his place for us in — so to speak— our cu ltu ra l pantheon” (published in Literaium oe nasledstvo
[M oscow 1970], trans. Richard Sieburth, in Benjam in, Moscow D ia ry, p. 131). The article on
Goethe tha t u ltim a te ly appeared in the Great Souiet Encyclopedia paralleled B enjam in’s original
m anuscript by an estimated 12 percent (see ed. note, I I , p. 1472).

45. Letter, Benjam in to Hugo von H ofm annsthal, 5 June 1927, B riefe, vol. 1, p. 444; see also
letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 23 February 1927 (ibid ., pp. 44 1-42 ).

46. A fragm ent o f several pages entitled “ Passagen” (V , pp. 1041-43) is “ the only thoroughly
form ulated and coherent text from this earliest stage o f the work, w hich dates to m id - 1927,
when Benjam in together w ith Franz Hessel s till wanted to w rite a jo u rn a l article” (cd. note,
V , p. 1341). Notes o f this early collaboration found in B enjam in’s papers are printed in V ,
pp. 1341-48. They include themes later dropped from the project, and are significantly
388

Notes to pages 32-34

different from the other early series o f notes (series A° and a*), which correspond more closely
to the developed conception o f the project.

47. E arlier, Benjam in had not been so favorably impressed w ith the Surrealists. In J u ly 1925
he wrote to Scholem tha t he was becoming acquainted w ith the “ marvelous w riting s o f Paul
V alery ( Variete, Eupalinos) on the one hand, and the dubious books o f the Surrealists on the
o th e r" ( I I , p. 1018). H is altered perception follow ing his Moscow trip is documented in his
letter to H ofm ansthal, 5 June 1927: “ Whereas in Germany among people o f my generation I
feel totally isolated from m y efforts and interests, in France there are specific phenomena— as
authors G iraudoux and p a rtic u la rly A ragon— as a movement Surrealism, in w hich I see at
w ork m y own concerns” ( B riefe , vol. 1, p. 446).

48. Letter, Benjam in to A dorno, 31 M a y 1935, B riefe , vol. 2, pp. 662-63. Benjam in found
Hessel’s company more com fortable than that o f more genial acquaintances. A lthou gh it is
impossible to say for certain w hich ideas o f the Arcades project were Hessel’s, from the
la tte r’s book, Spazieren in B e rlin , published in 1929, it is clear that B enjam in’s conception,
pa rticu la rly in its philosophical com plexity, far outstripped the original idea w hich they
conceived together.

49. V , pp. 993-1039 and 1044-59.

50. The essay criticized the rest o f the French left-w ing intelligentsia, “ ju s t as their Russian
counterparts,” for the ir “ feeling o f obligation not to the revolution, but to the tra d itio n o f
culture ( “ D er Surrealismus: D ie letzte Aufnahm e der europaischen In tcllig e n z,” I I , p. 304).
304).

51. “ D er Surrealismus,” I I , p. 306.

52. “ D er Surrealismus,” I I , p. 307. Benjam in did not rule out the im portance o f drug-
induced states for such illu m in a tio n ; the latte r came about through reflection on such states,
not the states themselves (ibid .) B enjam in’s own experiments w ith hashish began in 1927,
were more frequent in 1930-31, and occurred as late as 1934. See “ Protokolle Zu Drogenver-
suchen,” V I, pp. 558-618.

53. “ D er Surrealismus,” I I , p. 300.

54. Scholem reports tha t Surrealism was “ the firs t bridge to a positive evaluation o f
psychoanalysis” ( I I , p. 1019). See below, chapter 8.

55. Notes for the essay, “ D er Surrealismus,” I I , p. 1024.

56. E arly notes (1927-29), V , p. 1026 (0°, 4).

57. “ D er Surrealismus,” I I , p. 307.

58. I t was in fact his th ird retelling. N ot only had he retold it in his “ preface” to the Trauers-
p ie l study several years earlier; in 1908, as a member o f Weyneken’s Jugendbewegung and an
editor o f its student jo u rn a l, der A nfang , the sixteen-year-old Benjam in had w ritte n in its
second edition: “ B u t youth is the Sleeping Beauty, asleep w ith o u t suspecting the prince who
approaches in order to awaken it. A n d in order tha t youth awaken, tha t it take pa rt in the
struggles surrounding it, it is to this that our jo u rn a l desires to contribute its powers” — by
inte rpre ting past litera ture (Schiller, Goethe, Nietzsche) as instructive for the m oral task o f a
com ing “ Z e ita lte r o f y o u th ” : “ For how can a young person, above all from a metropolis,
confront the deepest problems, the social misery, w ith o u t, at least for a time, being overcome
by pessimism? [ . . . Y et,] no m atter how bad the w orld may be, you [i.c., youth] came to it to
raise it up. T h a t is not pride bu t only consciousness o f one’s d u ty ” (“ Das D ornroschen,” I I ,
pp. 9 -1 0 ).
389

Notes to pages 34-36

59. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 17 A p ril 1931, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 531.

60. O n this success (and, generally on Benjam in in B erlin) see the essay by Gary Sm ith,
“ Benjam ins B e rlin ,” Wissenschaften in B e rlin , eds. T ilm a n n Buddensicg, et al. (Berlin: Gebr.
M a n n Verlag, 1987), pp. 98-102.

61. E rnst Bloch, “ E rinnerungen,” Uber W alter Benjam in, m it Beitragen von Theodor W .
A dorno et al. (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1968), p. 22.

62. T he significance o f these reviews is discussed in W itte, W alter Benjam in: D er Intellektuelle
als K ritik e r.

63. The scripts o f several o f these broadcasts were first published in W alter Benjam in,
“ Radiofeuilletons fu r K in d e r und Jugendliche,” Sinn und Form 36, 4 (July/A ugust 1984):
683-703. A more complete collection has appeared as A u fk ld ru n g ju r Kinder. Rundfunkvortrdge,
ed. R o lf Tiedem ann (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1985). See also “ H drm odellc,”
examples o f B enjam in’s radio shows for the F rankfu rt am M a in station, Sudwestdeutscher Rund-
fu n k , (IV , pp. 627-720). A n em pirical study o f the broadcasts which mainfests excellent,
orig inal research in radio history, is provided in Sabine Schiller-Lerg, W alter Benjam in und der
R undfunk: Program arbeit zwischen Tkeorie und P raxis, vol. 1 o f Rundfunkstudien, ed. W infried B.
Lerg (New Y ork: K . G. Saur, 1984). For a discussion o f the program contents, see Susan
Buck-M orss, “ Verehrte U nsichtbare! “ W alter Benjamins R adiovortage,” W alter Benjam in
und die K in d e rlite ra tu r, ed. K laus D ordercr (W einheim and M u nich: Juventa Verlag, 1988).

64. R adio broadcast, 24 A p ril 1931, Frankfu rt am M a in , A u fk ld ru n g ju r K inder, p. 116.

65. “ Theodor Hosemann,” A u fk ld ru n g ju r K inder, p. 69.

66. See IV , pp. 671-73.

67. T he Brechtian influence is pa rticu la rly pronounced in the series o f “ H orm odelle” for
ad ult radio in Frankfu rt am M a in . One broadcast problem atized an event from “ everyday
life ,” asking one’s boss for a raise, presenting it as a “ confrontation between example and
counterexample” o f how they m ight be resolved, and in the process revealing the context o f
class in w hich such “ resolutions” occur (“ Gehaltserhohung? W o denken Sie h in !” [1931]
IV , pp. 629-40).

68. Letter, Benjam in to Brecht (February 1931), V I, p. 826 (italics, his), w ritte n to explain
w hy Benjam in was w ithdraw ing from the board, which had accepted articles tha t did not
live up to w hat they had agreed w ould be the jo u rn a l’s intent. The project was never realized
(ib id ., pp. 826-27). T he previous year, Benjam in planned to “ establish a very small reading
circle, led by Brecht and myself, [ . . . ] to destroy Heidegger,” but it also seems to have failed
to m aterialize (letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 25 A p ril 1930, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 514).

69. “ Moskauer Tagebuch,” V I, pp. 358-59.

70. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 20 January 1930, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 505. Benjam in describes
recreating his genre from w ith in : “ [ . . . ] the popular nature [ V olkstiim lichkeit] o f w ritin g is
deposited not in consumption, but in production, that is, professionally. In a word, it is
through the litera lization o f life’s relations that the irresolvable antinomies are mastered
under w hich all o f aesthetic creativity stands today, and it is the arena o f the deepest de­
gradation o f the printed word, that is, the newspaper, upon w hich, in a new society, the
w o rd ’s restoration w ill take place. I t is, indeed, not the most contemptuous C unning o f the
Idea. Necessity— w hich today w ith unbelievable atmospheric pressure compresses precisely
the cre ativity o f the best people so that it has a place in the dark belly o f a fe u ille to n , as in that
o f a wooden horse, in order one day to set the T ro y o f this press aflame” (“ Tagebuch vom
7.8.1931 bis zum Todestag,” V I, p. 446).
390

Notes to pages 36-39

71. O n 3 October 1931, Benjam in wrote to Scholem tha t the extreme unem ploym ent turned
workers who had jobs by this fact alone into a “ labor aristocracy,” and he noted that the
Comm unists “ probably could ha rdly handle [the s itua tion] otherwise than the Social Demo­
crats were doing” ; in fact the N ational Socialists were becoming recognized as the delegates
o f the unemployed: “ The C om m unists have as yet not found the necessary contact to these
[unem ployed] masses and thereby to the possibilities for revolutionary action [ . . . ] ” (B rie fe,
vol. 2, pp. 537-38).

72. Letter, Benjam in to M a x Rychner, 7 M arch 1931, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 523.

73. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 20 January 1931, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 506.

74. See “ D ia ry from 7 August 1931 to the Date o f D eath,” w hich begins: “ T h is diary does
not promise to be very long” ( V I, p. 441).

75. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 20 December 1931, B rie fe, vol. 2, p. 544.

76. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem. 26 J u ly 1932, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 556.

77. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem. 20 M a rch 1933, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 566.

78. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem. 28 February 1931, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 562.

79. “ Die M ississippi-U berschw cm m ung 1927,” A u fk la ru n g fu r K inder, p. 188.

80. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem. 17 A p ril 1931, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 532.

81. Hcssel, cited in the b rillia n t study by Johann Friedrich Geist (inspired by B enjam in),
Arcades: The H istory o f a B u ild in g Type, trans. Jane O . Newman and Joh n H . S m ith (C am ­
bridge, Mass.: T h e M I T Press, 1983), pp. 157-58 (trans. m odified).

82. B erliner C hronik (begun 1931), ed. Gershom Scholem (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkam p
Verlag, 1970) and “ B erliner K in d h c it um Neunzehn H u n d e rt” (begun 1932), IV , pp. 23 5-
403.

83. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem. 15 January 1933, B riefe, vol. 2, pp. 560-61.

84. See the note in B enjam in’s papers in the B ibliothequc Nationale: “ In the year 1932, as I
was abroad [in Spain], it began to be clear to me that I soon would have to take leave o f the
city in w hich I was born, perhaps perm anently. I had experienced the procedure o f im ­
m unization several times in my life as healing; I adhered to it again in this situation and
called forth in m yself in te ntiona lly those images tha t in exile are w ont to awaken homesick­
ness most strongly, those o f childhood. T he feeling o f nostalgia was not allowed to dom inate
m y sp irit any more than the im m u nizing m aterial [is allowed to dom inate] over a healthy
body. I attempted this by lim itin g m y exam ination to the necessary, social irre trie v a b ility o f
the past, rather than the a rb itra ry biographical one” (Envelope no. 1, B enjam in Papers,
Georges B ataille A rchive, B ibliothequc Nationale, Paris).

85. Letter, Benjam in to Gretel K a rp lu s A dorno, M a rch 1934, V , p. 1103.

86. “ Zum B ild c Prousts,” I I , p. 311.

87. V , p. 497 (K 2a, 3).

88. V , p. 580 (N4, 4; also 0°, 76).

391

Notes to pages 49-50

In tro d u c tio n to P a rt I I

1. Benjam in was often explicit regarding the connection: The Surrealism essay was “ an
opaque paravent before the Arcades project” (V , p. 1090), to w hich it could serve as the
in troductio n ( I I , p. 1020); the Proust and K afka essays could “ pass to the account o f the
Arcades project” ( I I , p. 1020); the A rtw o rk essay was “ anchored” in the Passagen-Werk’s
historical research (V , p. 1150), fixing “ the present-day position” (V , p. 1152) o f art, from
w hich it was first possible to recognize w hat had been decisive about its historical “ fate” (V ,
p. 1148). (Benjam in occasionally spoke o f the A rtw o rk essay as the “ second expose” o f the
Arcades project, “ a kind o f counterpiece to the 1935 expose [V , p. 1151]). The “ first quar­
ter” o f the Fuchs article contained “ a num ber o f im po rtan t considerations on dialectical
m aterialism that arc provisionally synchronized w ith my [Arcades] book” (V , p. 1158). The
two Baudelaire essays (1938 and 1939), for which “ Central Park” provided a crucial theoret­
ical arm ature, were intended to provide a “ model” for the Arcades project as part o f a book
on Baudelaire (V , p. 1165). A nd fina lly, the Theses on H isto ry drew heavily on the methodo­
logical notes that appear in Konvolut N o f the Passagen-Werk, “ O n Epistemology; Theory o f
Progress” (see I, p. 1225).

2. See V , pp. 1041-43.

3. Ed. note, V , p. 1341. For their collaborative notes, sec pp. 1341-47.

4. T h is fragm ent o f text (V , pp. 1060-63) was found inserted at the front o f Konvolut G. Parts
o f it had found the ir way into one o f B enjam in’s radio programs, “ Die Eisenbahnkatastrophc
von F irth o f T a y ” in W alter Benjam in, Aujkldrung J ut Kinder: Rundjunkvortrdge, ed. R o lf
Tiedem ann (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkamp Verlag, 1985), pp. 178-83.

5. V , p. 1033 (0°, 70).

6. Letter, Benjam in to Grctel K arplus, 16 August 1935 (V , p. 1138).

7. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 31 M ay, 1935, V , p. 1118.

8. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 17 October 1934, V , p. 1104.

9. Letter, Benjam in to A dorno, 18 M a rch 1934, V , p. 1102.

10. The Arcades project from this point on figured in the official program o f the exiled
F ra n kfu rt In s titu te under the English title, “ The Social H isto ry o f the C ity o f Paris in the
19th C entury” (ed. note, V , p. 1097).

11. Benjam in notes that his friendship w ith Brecht after 1929 was influential (letter, Ben­
ja m in to A dorno, 31 M a y 1935, V , p. 1117). He lived w ith Brecht in Denm ark d u ring the
sum mer o f 1934 when he was w orking intensively on the notes for the expose.

12. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 20 M a y 1935, V , p. 1112.

13. T h is argum ent is considered in detail in the In tro d u c tio n to Part I I I below.

14. In all, the books cited in the research m aterial num ber 850 (see the bibliography com­
piled by the editor, V , pp. 1277-1323).

15. V , p. 1349.
392

Notes to pages 50-54

16. A lthough he announced in M a rch 1936 that the “ prelim inary m aterial studies” were
finished except for “ a few small areas” (letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 28 M a rch , 1936, V ,
p. 1158), he was to add to the Konvoluts continuously u n til forced to leave Paris.

17. The list (V , pp. 81 -82) is B enjam in’s own. The letters c, e, f, h, etc. w ith o u t titles suggest
that he had plans for fu rth e r Konvoluts (see ed. note, p. 1261). Konvolut Z (“ D o ll, A u to ­
m aton” ) was never photocopied; nor were the series D5 and B8 (omissions marked by an
asterisk in the list o f Konvoluts ; for dating and photocopying o f the entires, see p. 1262). Some
o f the entries were cross-referenced, at times to keywords that never had the ir own Konvoluts,
but were incorporated as subtopics w ith in others (e.g., “ H ashish,” “ V elvet,” “ W orld o f
T h in g s,” “ D ust,” “ W eather,” “ Predecessor,” “ M y th o lo g y ,” “ Dream S tructure” ).

18. Letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, fall 1934.

19. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, {?} M a y 1935, V , p. 1112.

20. Letter, Benjam in to Scholcm, 20 M a y, 1935, V , p. 1112.

21. Letter, Benjamin to Brecht, 20 M ay 1935. Benjamin was capable o f a degree o f blu ff in his
correspondence, pa rtic u la rly when, as was the case w ith the Institute, his audience was the
source o f his very precarious funding. Nonetheless, his high optim ism concerning the pro­
je c t’s im m anent com pletion was clearly genuine. T h a t optim ism may have been dim inished
by the c ritica l reception w hich A dorno gave the expose, pa rticu la rly as he had been the most
enthusiastic supporter o f the project’s early stage (see V , p. 1128 and 1140). H orkheim er,
however, was more com plim entary in his comments (V , p. 1143) and in B enjam in’s m ajor
articles for the In s titu te ’s jo u rn a l, he continued to develop the conceptions form ulated as
part o f the Arcades complex.

22. Letter, Benjam in to K arp lu s, {?} M a rch 1934, V , p. 1103.

23. A dorno wrote: “ The division o f chapters on the basis o f men seems to me not totally
felicitous: From it there proceeds a certain compulsion for a systematic exterior architecture
w ith w hich I do not feel com fortable” (letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 A ugust 1935, V ,
p. 1130).

24. Note tha t the 1939 version o f the expose modified its contents signiheandy (see below,
In tro d u c tio n to Part I I I ) .

25. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, V , p. 1128.

26. “ I have thereby, in a decisive example, realized my theory o f knowledge that is crystal­
lized in the concept I have [previously] handled very esoterically, the ‘now o f recognition.* I
have discovered those elements o f the art o f the nineteenth century that arc only ‘now ’
recognizable, that never were before and never w ill be again” (letter, Benjam in to Gretel
K arplus, 9 O ctober 1935, V , p. 1148).

27. See ed. note, V , p. 24n.

28. See below, chapter 10.

29. V , p. 1009 (G°, 3).

30. S eeV , p. 1014(1*, 2).

31. V , p. 416 (J56a, 7).

393

Notes to pages 55-59

32. Benjam in him self used this term in the Trauerspiel study to describe his method o f recon­
structing philosophically the historical origins o f German tragic drama: “ Philosophical his­
tory (die philosopkische Gesckichte) as the knowledge o f origins is that form w hich allows the
configuration o f the idea to emerge out o f the remote extremes, the apparent excesses o f
development, as the totality characterized by the possibility o f a meaningful juxta position o f
such contradictions” (I, p. 227).

33. Benjam in defines philosophical ideas as “ discontinuous” in the Trauerspiel study: “ These
stand by themselves in complete isolation as words never could” (I, p. 217); and in the
Passagen-W erk's early notes he says that he is describing “ a w orld o f strict discon tinuity” (V ,
p. 1011 [G M 9 ]) .

34. Here, p a rticu la rly, B enjam in’s research as a historian o f mass consumer culture was
pathbreaking. I t can be appreciated even alongside the excellent studies that have recently
appeared, and tha t corroborate his findings. I am referring in pa rticular to the follow ing
books on nineteenth-century France, from which I have learned much that has been bene­
ficial for this study: Susanna Barrows, D isto rtin g M irro rs : Visions o f the Crowd in Late
Nineteenth-Century France (New Haven: Yale U niversity Press, 1981); N ora Evenson, P a ris: A
Century o f Change, 1878-1978 (New Haven: Yale U niversity Press, 1979); Johann Friedrich
Giest, Arcades: The H istory o f a B u ild in g Type, trans. Jane O. Newman and Joh n H . Smith
(Cam bridge, Mass.: The M I T Press, 1983). M ichael B. M ille r, The Bon M arche: Bourgeois
C ulture and the Departm ent Store, 1869-1920. (Princeton: Princeton U niversity Press, 1981);
Rosalind W illia m s, Dream W orlds: M ass Consumption in Late Nineteenth-Century France (Berkeley:
U niversity o f C alifornia Press, 1982).

35. Letter, Benjam in to K arplus, 16 August 1935, V , p. 1138.

36. Letter, A dorno to Scholem, 9 M a y 1949, V , pp. 1072-73.

3 N a tu ra l H is to ry : F o s s il

1. Theodor W . A dorno, “ C haraktcristik W alter Benjam in,” Uber W alter Benjam in , ed., R o lf
Tiedem ann (F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkamp Verlag, 1970), p. 17.

2. Benjam in w ould in fact not be pleased w ith m y use o f Stcrnberger to make this point, for
although there was a direct influence, it was his own on Sternberger rather than vice versa, in
a m anner Benjam in considered nothing less than (u nskillful) plagiarism. He wrote to
Scholem 2 A p ril 1939: “ You should some time get yout hands on Stembcrger’s book, Panora­
ma o f the Nineteenth Century. I t w on’ t be lost on you that this is an ou trig h t attem pt at plagiar­
ism ” (V , p. 1168). The second sentence is deleted w ith ellipses in the version published in
W alter Benjam in, B riefe , 2 vols., eds. Gcrshom Scholem and Theodor W . A dorno (F ran kfurt
am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1978), p. 802.
In a letter to A dorno twelve days later, B enjam in’s vituperative attack continued (ind icat­
ing that Sternberger had in fact “ plagiarized” his ideas only too w ell). O nly in the title, he
wrote, was Sternberger able even to plagiarize correctly. “ The idea o f the Passages appears,
having undergone two forms o f filte rin g — first, tha t w hich could penetrate through Sternber-
ger’s skull [ . . . and second,] that w hich was allowed to pass the [T h ird ] Reich’s Board o f
Lite ratu re. You can easily imagine w hat has survived [ . . .] . T he indescribably meager
conceptual apparatus o f Sternberger is stolen from [E rnst] Bloch, from him and me together
[ . . . ] . Perhaps you can discuss w ith M a x [H orkhcim er] whether I should review— that
means denounce— i t ” (V , pp. 1164—65).
B enjam in later sent a review to the In s titu te for Social Research in New Y ork, where it was
received in silence. He wrote to Gretel Adorno, 26 June 1939, that he had taken heavily to
heart the “ silence on all sides that m y review o f Stemberger’s Panorama has encountered.
394

Notes to pages 59-60

Even you d id n ’t break it when you fin a lly wrote to me yourself about the book” ( B riefe , vol.
2. p. 828). A dorno seems to have had a more positive view o f Stem bcrger (see V , p. 1107).
A lthough Stcrnberger’s jo u rn a lis tic commentaries still appeared in the F rankfu rter Zeitung
after H itle r came o f power, he u ltim a te ly suffered persecution because o f his Jewish wife. The
In stitu te did not publish B enjam in’s review (w hich was preserved, however, and appears in
I I I , pp. 572-79).

3. D o lf Sternberger, Panorama, o dtr Ansichten vom 19. Jahrhundert [first published, H am burg,
1938] (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1974), pp. 108-09.

4. Theodor W . A dorno, “ Die Idee der Naturgeschichte,” Gesammelte Schriften , vol. 1: P h ilo -
sophische Fruhschriften, ed., R o lfT ie d cm a n n (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkamp Verlag, 1973), p.
355.

5. Adorno argued tha t w hat appeared to be natural objects were not tru ly natural insofar as
they were produced historically by human subjects; and history was not “ historical,” be­
cause o f the blin d destructiveness to nature (including physical, human bodies) w hich had
thus far characterized its course. I discuss in detail A dorno’s argument in this speech, and its
specific debt to Benjam in, in Susan Buck-M orss, The O rigin o f Negative D ia lectics: Theodor W.
Adorno, W alter Benjam in and the F ra n kfu rt In stitu te (New York: M a cm illan Free Press, 1977),
chapter 3.

6. Adorno, Gesammelte Schriften , vol. 1, pp. 360-61.

7. V , p. 1034 (0°, 80).

8 .Jo h n H ea rtfie ld : Photomontages o f the N a zi Period (New Y ork: Universe Books, 1977), p. 11.
“ Like Eisenstein’s films, H eartfield’s photomontages use diam etrically opposed images to
provoke a conflict in the spectator w hich w ill give rise to a th ird synthetic image that is often
stronger in its associations than the sum o f its parts” (ibid., p. 13). H eartfield has been
compared to the nineteenth-century lithographer D aum ier (ib id .). Benjam in, in tracing the
“ origins” o f the present, makes D aum ier a significant figure in the Passagen-Werk. B ut it is the
artist A ntoine W icrtz, Benjam in says, who “ can be described as the first who, even i f he did
not foresee it, demanded montage as the agitational u tilizatio n o f photography” (1935 ex­
pose, V , p. 49).

9. I t appears tha t he knew the man rather later than his work. B enjam in’s 1934 essay, “ The
A utho r as Producer,” praises Heartfield’s political use o f photography (see I I , pp. 692-93).
B ut he does not mention meeting H eartfield u n til a letter w ritte n from Paris, 18 J u ly 1935:
“ [ . . .SJeldom is there among m y new acquaintances one as delightful as John H eartfield
[w hom I met] not long ago, w ith whom I had a really excellent conversation about photogra­
ph y” ( B riefe , vol. 2, p. 670). H eartfield was in Paris for the exhibition o f his works that
opened in M a y 1935 under the sponsorship o f Louis Aragon and others in the left w ing o f
the avant-garde, as a gesture o f solidarity for this artist, exiled by H itle r in 1933. H eart-
field’s 1934 exposition in Prague had become a po litica l issue when, under direct pressure
from H itle r, some o f the posters most critical o f Nazism were removed (see H eartfield , p. 14).

10. “ H eartfield’s photomontages represent an entirely different type [than the form al-
modernist collages o f the C ubists]. They are not p rim a rily aesthetic objects, but images for
reading [Lesebilder]. H eartfield w ent back to the old art o f the emblem and used it p o litic a lly ”
(Peter Burger, Theory o f the Avant-G arde , trans. M ichael Shaw, foreword Jochen Schulte-
Sasse, Theory and H istory o f L itera ture , vol. 4 (M inneapolis: U niversity o f M innesota Press,
1984), p. 75. Cf: “ Like emblems o f old, these photomontages merge in a powerful fusion o f
picture and motto, and like emblems they became engraved in the m ind and eye o f a genera­
tio n ” (H eartfield , p. 11).
395

Notes to pages 62-67

11. See note no. 9 above.

12. Letter, Benjam in to K itty Steinschneider, cited in Gershom Scholem, W alter Benjam in:
The Story o f a Friendship , eds. K aren Ready and Gary S m ith (London: Faber & Faber, Ltd .,
1982), p. 64.

13. The d e b ilita tin g effects on the German w orking class o f the popular acceptance o f D ar­
w inism , w hich, merged w ith M a rxism , resulted in an evolutionary theory o f socialism, has
been explored by A lfred H . K e lly in his book The Descent o f D a rw in : The Popularization o f
D a rw in in Germany, 1860-1914 (Chapel H ill: U niversity o f N orth C arolina Press, 1981).

14. IV , pp. 95-96. Essentially the same in versions M 2 (p. 929) and M 2 (pp. 918-19), (see
chapter 1, note no. 14).

15. IV , p. 147.

16. The long-held be lie f that M a rx had wanted to dedicate vol. 2 o f C apital to D arw in, but
that the latte r d id not a llow it because he did not w ant his name associated w ith atheism, has
recently been proven false (sec Lewis S. Feuer, “ The Case o f the ‘ D a rw in -M a rx ’ Letter: A
Study in S o c io -L ite ra ry D etection,” Encounter 51, 4 [O ctober 1976]: 62-78).

17. V , p. 1250 (1935 expose note no. 24).

18. V , p. 1045 (a°, 3). Note that Proust, too, spoke o f the pre-1914 w orld as “ prehistoric.”

19. V , p. 670 (R2, 3).

20. V , p. 993 (A°, 5).

21. V , p. 670 (R2, 3).

22. V , p. 1048 (c°, 1).

23. V , p. 93 (A3a, 7; see also R2, 3).

24. V , p. 1048 (b°, 2).

25. “ E arth atmosphere as subm arine” (V , p. 1013 [H °, 4; cf. 0°, 46]).

26. V , p. 1047 (b°, 2; see also a°, 3; c°, 4; H°, 4).

27. “ Das Paris des Second Em pire bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 549 (cf. V , p. 1035 [P°, 3] and p. 292
[1 4 ,4 ]) .

28. V , p. 1056 ( f , 3).

29. Cf. V , p. 496 (K 2a, 1).

30. V , p. 1215 (again H 2, 6).

31. A dorno, Gesammelte Schriften , vol. 1, p. 359.

32. Cf. Buck-M orss, The O rigins o f Negative D ialectics , chapter 9. A dorno, too, used the term
“ dialectical image,” and pa rtic u la rly in his study o f Kierkegaard (1933) it played a m ajor
role (in a passage Benjam in cites in V , p. 576 [N 2, 7]). B ut after 1935 he became increasingly
critical o f B enjam in’s “ dialectical images” as “ static” and “ unm ediated” (see ibid., chapter
9).
396

Notes to pages 67-71

33. Such a perspective was characteristic o f “ idealism ’s image o f history” (letter, Benjam in
to A dorno, 31 M a y 1935, V , p. 1117).

34. I I , pp. 697-98.

35. V , p. 572 ( N l, 10).

36. In the early stages o f the Passagen-Werk, B enjam in’s treatement o f panoramas was not
merely critical. In pa rticular, Prevost’s m im etic replication o f cities provided a “ true image
o f the c ity ,” as a ‘ ’windowless m onad” (V , p. 1008 [F°, 24; also Q la, 1]). Moreover, although
Benjam in connected them w ith the “ dream w o rld ” o f the nineteenth century, he also consi­
dered them anticipatory ur-form s o f photography and film (K °, 9; K °, 17; K °, 18). The form
o f the ir reception was pa rtic u la rly ambiguous: Due to the “ peephole” through w hich the
viewer gazed (sec chapter 4, figure 4.1), it remained private and in divid ual; due to the
panorama o f images that moved past the viewers sequentially, it was public and collective.

37. See above', note no. 2.

38. Sternbergcr, Panorama, p. 83.

39. “ W hat we must require o f photographers is the a b ility to give to the ir shots the captions
that w ill rescue them from the corrosion o f fashion and confer upon them revolutionary
use-value” ( I I , p. 693).

40. “ There is no shallower, more helpless antithesis than tha t w hich reactionary thinkers like
Klages try to set up between the sym bolic space o f nature and that o f technology” ; technolo­
gy is “ fundam entally” a “ form o f nature [.N aturg e h alt\” (V , p. 493 [K la , 3]).

41. A dorno, Gesammelte Schriften, vol. 1, pp. 356fT. I t was in C apri in June 1924 that Benjam in
read Lukacs’ newly published H isto ry and Class Consciousness, which he considered “ im p o r­
tant pa rtic u la rly for me” (letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 13 June 1924, B rie/e , vol. 1, p. 350).
He noted in September tha t w hat struck him about this book was “ that beginning from
p o litica l reflections Lukacs comes to statements in his theory o f knowledge tha t are at least
pa rtia lly, and perhaps not so thoroughly as I first suspected, very fam ilia r, confirm ing my
position” (letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 7 J u ly 1924, B rie/e , vol. 1, p. 355). Thus, w hile
impressed w ith Lukacs’ w ork, Benjam in came early to realize that their intellectual positions
were not so close as it m igh t firs t have seemed.

42. In H istory and Class Consciousness, Lukacs went so far as to proclaim that a ll nature is a
social category, that is, no objective m atter exists outside o f consciousness o r history. He
later criticized this position as an attem pt to “ out-Hegel Hegel,” and noted that his more
recent fa m ilia rlity w ith M a rx ’s 1844 manuscripts had convinced him that M a rx him se lf had
meant no such thing (see p. 234 and 1967 preface to Georg Lukacs, H istory and Class Con-
seriousness [1923], trans. Rodney Livingstone [Cam bridge, Mass.: The M I T Press, 1971]).

43. H is conception is perhaps closer to tha t o f the early M a rx, w ho spoke in the 1844 m anu­
scripts (heavily cited in the Passagen-Werk) o f in d u s try ’s transform ative effects on nature. Cf.:
“ ‘ In d u stry is nature, and hence natural science, in its true historical relationship to hum an­
ity ’ ” (M a rx , 1844 mss., cited in Landshut and M a yer [1932], cited V , p. 800 [ X I , 1]).

44. V , p. 282 (11,6).

45. Below, chapter 5.

46. V , p. 595 ( N i l , 1).

397

Notes to pages 71-73

47. Letter, Benjam in to Gretel K arp lu s [A d o rn o ], 10 September 1935, V , p. 1142.

48. M ichel M e lo t, V , p. 1324. M e lo t reports that the m aterial Benjam in had to work w ith
was a series, Topograpkie de P aris , that had “ around 150,000 images o f every varie ty” (draw ­
ings, maps, press clippings, postcards, photographs, posters) classified by arrondissement,
and by an alphabetical ordering o f streets, and another series on the history o f France, which
included several hundred volumes on the nineteenth century. He also worked w ith the series
Enseignemtnt des arts, concerning the workshops and lives o f the artists, the Salon, etc. He did
not content him self w ith studying those scries to w hich there was ready access, bu t pursued
m aterial the classification o f w hich was very complex (ib id .).

49. A lfred Sohn-Rethel, to the ed., V , p. 1324.

50. Ed. note, V , p. 1324. C ertain entries in the Passagen-W erk refer to specific images that
Tiedem ann has tracked down in the archives, and has included in V , along w ith several
contemporary photographs o f the Paris arcades taken by a friend o f Benjam in, the photo­
grapher Germaine K x u ll (see the end o f vol. 1 o f V ).

51. V , p. 575 (N 2, 6).

52. V , p. 574 (N la , 6).

53. “ U m verlorencn Abschluss der N otiz iiber die Sym bolik dcr Ekenntnis” V I, p. 38.

54. V I, p. 38.

55. Georg Simmel, Goethe [firs t published 1913], 3rd ed. (Leipzig: K lin k h a rd t & Biermann,
1918), pp. 56-57.

56. Simmel, Goethe, p. 57 (cf. above, chapter 2).

57. Simmel, Goethe, p. 56.

58. Simmel, Goethe, p. 57 (italics, S im m el’s).

59. V , p. 577 (N2a, 4). (The phrase in braces, absent from the Passagen-Werk entry, is in the
“ addendum ” to the Trauerspiel book, I, p. 953.) T he entry continues: “ ‘O rig in ’— that is the
concept o f the Urpharumen {h is to ric a lly differentiated, alive both theologically and historical­
ly, and} brought out o f the pagan context o f nature and into the Judaic context o f history”
(V , p. 577 [N2a, 4]). (The phrase in braces is in the addendum, I, p. 954). The meaning for
Benjam in o f “ theological” as it relates to the “ Judaic context o f history,” and the relation o f
the new nature to the old nature in this context is discussed below in chapter 7.

60. V , p. 592. Such nonsubjective metaphysical symbols m ight also be called “ theological”
(see chapter 7 below, section 7).

61. V , p. 577 (N2a, 4).

62. V , p. 1033 (0°, 73).

63. V , p. 574 (N la , 8).

64. Adorno, cited V , p. 1072.

65. Letter, A dorno to H orkheim er, 9 M a y 1949, V , p. 1072.

398

Notes to pages 74—81

66. Ed. note, V , p. 1073.

67. V , pp. 226-27 (F6, 2). I t was invented by Sir D avid Brewster in 1815.

68. “ The ‘ casse-tete [Chinese Puzzle]’ that arises during the Em pire reveals the awakening
sense o f the century for construction [ . . . ] the first presentiment o f the principle o f cubism in
pictoral a rt” (V , pp. 226-27 [F6, 2]).

69. A . G. M eyer (1907), cited V , p. 223 (F4a, 2).

70. V , p. 575 (N2, 6).

71. V I, p. 39.

4 M y th ic H is to ry : F e tis h

1. I t is handled them atically in Konvolut N , “ O n Epistemology: Theory o f Progress,” V , pp.

570-611. T h is crucial K onvolut has been excellently translated into English by Leigh H afrey
and R ichard Sieburth, as “ Theoretics o f Knowledge, Theory o f Progress,” in The P hilosophi­
cal Forum , special issue on W alter Benjam in, ed. G ary S m ith, X V , nos. 1-2 (fa ll-w in te r
1983-84): 1-40.

2. V , p. 1013 (H°, 16).

3. V , p. 1026 (0°, 5). These early notes also contain the critique appearing in B enjam in’s
Theses on H istory (1940), w hich describes von Ranke’s attem pt to show history “ ‘as it
actually was’ ” as “ the strongest narcotic o f the nineteenth century” (V , p. 1033 [0°, 71]).

4. V , p. 574 (N2, 2).

5. V , p. 596 ( N ila , 1).

6. Theses on H istory, I, p. 699.

7. V , p. 596 ( N ila , 1).

8. V , pp. 598-99 (N13, 1).

9. V , p. 596 ( N ila , 1). C f.: “ From where docs the conception o f progress come? From
Condorcet? A t any rate it doesn’ t yet seem to be very firm ly rooted at the end o f the eigh­
teenth century. In his E ris tik , H crault de Sechelles, under advice for ridding oneself o f one’s
enemy, suggests the follow ing: ‘Lead him astray in to questions o f moral freedom and in fin ite
progress’ ” (V , p. 828 [Y2a, 1]).

10. A ppleton, cited in N orm a Evenson, P a ris: A Century o f Change, 1878-1978 (New Haven:
Yale U niversity Press, 1979), p. 1.

11. “ ‘W ith the magical title P a ris , a drama, revue or book is always sure o f success’ ”
(G a utier [1856], cited V , p. 652 [P4, 3]).

12. Evenson, P a ris , p. 1.

13. V , p. 1049 (C*, 1).

399

Notes to pages 81-86

14. See Konoolut T , “ Beleuchtungsarten,” V , pp. 698-707.

15. “ I t is only the p a rticular social relation between people that here takes on the phantas­
magoric form o f a relation between things” (M a rx , C ap ita l, cited V , p. 245 [G5, 1]).

16. V , p. 86 (A2, 2; also V , 28).

17. V , p. 700 ( T la , 8).

18. V , p. 614 (O la , 2; also c‘ , 2).

19. V, p. 90 (A3, 3).

20. V , p. 45 (1935 expose).

21. Cf. V , p. 239 (G2a, 7; G2a, 8). The length o f the C rystal Palace measured 560 meters
(G8, 5).

22. L o th a r Bacher (n.d.), cited by J u lius Lessing, cited V , p. 248 (G 6 -6a ).

23. Juliu s Lessing (1900), cited V , pp. 248-49 (G 6 -6 a ).

24. A lready beginning in 1798 there had been national indu strial expositions in Paris “ ‘to
amuse the w orking class’ ” (Sigmund Englander [1864], cited V , p. 243 [G4, 7]); after 1834
these were held every five years (cf. V , pp. 242-43 [G4, 2— G4, 4]).

25. (1855), cited V , p. 257 ( G i l , 1).

26. Paul M o rand (1900), cited V , p. 243 (G4, 5).

27. Theophile G autier (1867), cited V , pp. 253-54 (G9, 2).

28. Cf. V , p. 243 (G4, 4) and p. 268 (G16a, 3).

29. V , p. 238 (G2, 3).

30. V , p. 267 (G16, 7).

31. V , p. 267 (G16, 6; again m4, 7). O th er aspects o f the pleasure indu stry were spawned by
the fairs— the firs t amusement parks, and perhaps the first form o f international mass to u r­
ism as w ell, as foreign pavilions provided cultures-on-display for visual consumption: “ In
1867 the ‘O rie ntal qu arte r’ was the center o f a ttra c tio n ” (V , p. 253 [G8a, 3]); the Egyptian
exhibition was in a bu ild in g modelled after an E gyptian temple (V , p. 255 [G9a, 6]).

32. “ ‘These expositions are the first actually m odem festivals’ ” (H erm ann Lotze [1864],
cited V , p. 267 (G16, 5]).

33. The Eiffel To w er cost six m illio n francs to bu ild , and in less that a year, it had earned
6,459,581 francs from the sale o f entry tickets (V , p. 253 [G9, 1]). F ittin g ly , given the stress
on spectacle over commerce, the task o f organizing the first w orld exposition in New Y ork
C ity , 1853, fell to Phineas B arnum , whose business was circuses (V , p. 249 [G6a, 2]).

34. V, p. 255 (G9a, 5).

35. V, p. 253 (G8a, 4).

400____________________

Notes to pages 86-89

36. V , p. 250 (G7, 5).

37. Cf. W alpole’s description o f the exhibition o f machines in London’s C rystal Palace: “ ‘ In
this hall o f machines there were automated spinning machines [ . . . , ] machines that made
envelopes, steam looms, models o f locomotives, centrifugal pumps and a locomobile; all o f
these were laboring like crazy, whereas the thousands o f people who were beside them in top
hats and w orkers’ caps sat qu ie tly and passively, and w ith o u t suspecting tha t the age o f
hum an beings on this planet was at an end’ ” (H ugh W alpole [1933], cited V , p. 255 [G10,
21).

38. V , p. 252 (G8, 4).

39. Cf. the “ m y th ” o f the proletariat as the “ child born in the workshops o f Paris ( . . . ) and
brought to London [d u rin g the exposition] for nursing” (S. Ch. Benoist [1914], cited V ,
p. 261 [G13, 3]).

40. The K in g o f Prussia protested against the London exposition o f 1851, refusing to send a
royal delegation. Prince A lb e rt who, in fact, had endorsed the project (w hich was financed
and organized by private entrepreneurs) related to his mother the spring before the fa ir
opened that opponents o f the exposition believed ‘“ foreign visitors w ill begin a radical rev­
o lutio n here, w ill k ill V ic to ria and myself, and proclaim the red republic. A breakout o f the
plague [they believe] w ill certainly result from the concourse o f such a huge m u ltitude, and
devour those whom the accumulated costs o f everything have not driven away” (cited V ,
p. 254 [G9, 3]). D uring the fair there was continuous police surveillance o f the crowd (V , p. 255
[G10, 1]). A t the 1855 Paris exposition: “ Workers* delegations this tim e were totally barred.
I t was feared that it [the exposition] w ould provide the workers w ith a chance for m o biliz­
in g ” (V , p. 246 [G5a, 1]).

41. Cf. V , p. 256 [GlOa, 2]).

42. Cf. V , p. 252 (G8a, 1]).

43. D avid Riazanov (1928), cited V , pp. 245-46 (G5, 2).

44. Plekhanov (1891), cited V , p. 244 (G4a, 1).

45. The text in figure 4.3 is from “ E xposition Universelle Internationale de 1900 a Paris,”
advance p u b lic ity for the 1900 exposition, cited in Le L ivre des Expositions Universelles, 1851-
1889 (Paris: U n io n Centrale des A rts Decoratifs, 1983), p. 105. The photograph was taken by
E m ile Zola.

46. “ ‘ 1851 was the time o f free tra de. . .N o w for decades we find ourselves in a tim e o f
ever-increasing tariffs [. . .] and whereas in 1850 the highest m axim was no government
interference in these affairs, now the governm ent o f every country has come to be viewed as
its e lf an entrepreneur’ ” (Julius Lessing [1900], cited V , p. 247 [G5a, 5].

47. V , p. 247 (G5a, 6).

48. Cf. V , p. 1219 (note no. 19).

49. Cf. ed. note, V , p. 1218: “ T h e second stage o f w ork on the Passagen began in early 1934
w ith plans for an article in French on Haussm ann. . .fo r Le Monde” Some notes for this
never completed article have been preserved (see V , pp. 1218-19, 1935 expose, note no. 19).
Benjam in wrote to Grctel A dorno in 1934 o f plans for the Haussmann article, m entioning
that Brecht considered it an im p o rta n t theme, and that it was “ in the im m ediate p ro x im ity o f
m y Passagenarbeit” (V , p. 1098).
401

Notes to pages 89-92

50. V , p. 188 (E3, 6).

51. Cf. V , p. 187 (E3, 2).

52. Benjam in cites Engels: ‘“ I understand under ‘Haussm ann’ the now general practice o f
tu rn in g the workers’ districts into rubble, pa rtic u la rly those lying at the center o f our great
c itie s . . . . T he result is everywhere the sam e. . . the ir disappearance w ith the great self-
congratulations o f the bourgeoisie. . ., but they spring up again at once somewhere else
[ • • • ] • * ” (V , p. 206 [E12, 1]).

53. “ ‘T he great ladies are out for a stroll; behind them play the little ladies’ ” (Nguyen T rong
H iep [1897], cited V , p. 45 [1935 expose]).

54. Cf. V , p. 182 (E la , 4).

55. V , p. 182 (E2a, 5).

56. Benjam in notes: “ For the architectonic image o f Paris the [Franco-Prussian] w ar o f the
70s was perhaps a blessing, as Napoleon I I I intended further to redesign whole areas o f the
c ity ” (V , p. 1016 [K \ 5, again; E l, 6]).

57. Benjam in notes: “ Illusionism settles into the image o f the city: perspectives” (V , p. 1211
[1935 expose, note no. 5]).

58. J. J. Honegger (1874), cited V , p. 181 (E la , 1).

59. D ubech-D ’ Espezel (1926), cited V , p. 189 (E3a, 6).

60. V , p. 57 (1935 expose); cf. V , p. 190 (E4, 4, also E8, 1).

61. Newspaper ob ituary o f Hugo, cited V , p. 905 (d2, 3).

62. V , p. 905 (d2, 2). Benjam in notes elsewhere: ‘‘A telltale vision o f progress in Hugo: Paris
incendie ( L ’annee terrible): ‘What? scarificc everything? Even the granary o f bread? What?
The lib ra ry , this ark where the dawn arises, this unfathomable A BC o f ideals, where Prog­
ress, eternal reader, leans on its elbows and dream s. . . ’ ” (V , p. 604 [N15a, 2]).

63. V , p. 736 (U14, 3).

64. M ichel Chevalier (1853), cited V , p. 739 (U15a, 1). ‘‘Chevalier was the disciple o f [the
S aint-Sim onian] E nfantin [ . . . and] E d ito r o f the Globe” (V , p. 244 [G4a, 4]).

65. Cf. V , pp. 717-18 (U 5, 2).

66. V , p. 716 (U 4, 2).

67. V , p. 733 (U13, 2).

68. V , p. 716 (U4a, 1).

69. ‘ ‘Lebende B ild er aus dem modernen Paris” (1863), cited V , pp. 236-37 (G2, 1).

70. D ubech-D ’Espezel (1926), cited V , p. 193 (E5a, 2).

71. R attie r (1859), cited V , p. 198 (E7a, 4). ‘“ The universe does nothing but pick up the
cigar butts o f Paris’ ” (G autier [1856], cited V , p. 652 [P4, 4]).
402

Notes to pages 92-97

72. V , p. 1217 (1935 expose note no. 14).

73. Notes to the Theses on H istory, I, p. 1232.

74. Theses on H istory, I, pp. 697-98 (italics B enjam in’s).

75. H enri de Pene (1859), cited V , p. 165 (D la , 1).

76. “ *[. . . T ]h e rue Grange-Bateliere is p a rtic u la rly dusty, and [ . . . ] one gets te rrib ly d irty
on the rue R eam ur’ ” (Louis Aragon [1926], cited V , p. 158 [D la , 2]).

77. “ W ith dust, the rain gets its revenge on the Passages” (V . p. 158 [D la , 1]).

78. “ V elvet as a trap for dust. T he secret o f dust playing in the sunlight. D ust and the
p a rlo r” (V , p. 158 [D la , 3]).

79. V , p. 1006 (F°, 8).

80. Cf. V , p. 158 (D la , 3).

81. V , p. 158 (D la , 1). B enjam in’s evidence is the follow ing dusty scene o f history-stopped-
in-its tracks. I t occurred twelve years after the 1830 revolution (w hich began w ith a desertion
o f the N ational G ird e , and went no fu rth e r than ousting the House o f Bourbon and replacing
it w ith the House o f Orleans and the “ bourgeois kin g ” Louis-P hilippe), on the occasion o f
the planned marriage o f the young Prince o f Orleans: “ ‘ [ . . . ] a great celebration was held in
the famous ballroom where the firs t symptoms o f revolution had broken out. In cleaning up
the room for the young brid al pair, it was found ju s t as the Revolution [o f 1830] had left it.
S till on the ground were traces o f the m ilita ry banquet— broken glass, champagne corks,
tram pled cockades o f the Garde du Corps and the ceremonial ribbons o f the Officers o f the
regiments o f Flanders” (K a rl G utzkow [1842], cited ibid.).

82. Leon Daudet (1930), cited V , p. 155 (C9a, 1).

83. V , p. 487 (J91a, 1). “ ‘The old Paris exists no more. The form o f a city changes more
q u ickly— alas! than the m ortal heart.’ These two lines o f Baudelaire could be placed as an
epigraph on the collected works o f M e y ro n ” (Gustave Geffroy [1926], cited V , p. 151 [C7a,
1]).

84. V , p. 1010 (G°, 17).

85. V , p. 1213 (1935 expose note no. 7).

86. V , p. 177 (D10, 3).

87. V , pp. 1010-11 (G°, 17).

88. V , p. 1011 (G°, 17).

89. Benjam in writes that fashion was unknown to a n tiq u ity (V , p. 115 [B2, 4 ]), as it is to
revolutionary, com m unist societies, w hich, as Cabet anticipated (V , p. 120 [B4, 2 ]), experi­
ence an “ end o f fashion” (V , p. 1211 [1935 expose note no. 5]): “ Does fashion die perhaps—
in Russia for example— because it can no longer keep up w ith the tempo— in certain areas at
least?” (V , p. 120 [B4, 4]; cf. pp. 1028-29 [0‘ , 20]). B ut Benjam in also observes that the
capitalist form o f fashion is not the only one imaginable. The nineteenth-century social uto­
pian Charles F ourier envisioned fashion’s variety and abundance, but in goods o f such excel­
lent q u a lity that they w ould last indefinitely: “ ‘even the poorest has. . . a closetful o f clothes
for each season’ ” (cited v, p. 129 [B8a, 1]).
403

Notes to pages 97-99

90. Benjam in wrote to Hofm annsthal, 17 M arch 1928: “ I am presently w orking on that
w hich, scanty and meager, has been attempted up to now as a philosophical presentation
and exploration o f fashion: W hat is it that this natural and totally irra tio n a l time division o f
the course o f history is all about” (V , pp. 1084-85).

91. V , p. 997 ( C \ 2).

92. See Angus Fletcher, A llegory: The Theory o f a Symbolic Mode (New Y ork: C ornell U niversity
Press, 1982), pp. 131; 132-33n.

93. Edouard Foucaud (1844), cited V , p. 125 (B6a, 3; see also B8, 3).

94. Egon Fricdell (1931), cited V , p. 125 (B6a, 2).

95. Charles Blanc (1872), cited V , pp. 123-24 (B5a, 3).

96. A n early entry recognizes the anticipatory potential o f fashion generally: ‘‘The most
b u rning interest o f fashion for the philosopher lies in its extraordinary anticipations
[ . . . Fashion is in ] contact w ith w hat is to come, due to the strength o f the incom parable
scent w hich the fem inine collective has for that w hich lies ready in the future. In its newest
creations, every season brings some sort o f secret flag signals o f coming things. The person
who understands how to read them w ould know in advance not only about the new currents
o f art, b u t also about new laws, wars and revolutions” (V , p. 112 [B la , 1]). Benjam in refers
to the tendency o f fashion to reveal the body at times when revolution is im m inent (sec V ,
p. 119 [B3a, 5]); in contrast, the fashion o f the crinoline in the early years o f the Second
E m pire, its conical shape, was m im etic o f the shape o f im perial bureaucratic hierarchies. He
cites Friedrich Theodor Vischer (1879): The crinoline “ ‘is the unmistakable symbol o f the
im pe rialist reaction [ . . . tha t] threw its m ight like a bell over the good and the bad, the ju s t
and unjust o f the re volution’ ” (V , p. 116 [B2a, 7; again, B7, 5]).

97. La ter entries om it euphoric references to the predictive power o f “ the feminine collec­
tive,” and arc more c ritica l. Benjam in cites Sim m el’s observation “ ‘tha t fashions arc always
class fashions, tha t the fashions o f the higher class are distinct from those o f the lower, and
are abandoned the moment the latter begins to appropriate them ’ ” (Georg Simmel [1911],
cited V , p. 127 [B7a, 2]). Entries from the 1930s point out the crucial role o f capital in
d isto rting the utopian aspects o f fashion. Benjam in cites Fuchs: “ ‘ I t must be reiterated that
the interests o f class divisions are only one cause for fashion’s frequent change, and that the
second, frequent change in fashions as a consequence o f the mode o f production o f private
c a p ita l. . . is ju s t as significant, as it must constantly increase their possibility for replacement
in the interests o f profits’ ” (Edw ard Fuchs [1926?], cited V , p. 128 [B7a, 4 ]). O n the connec­
tions between fashion, class divisions and the needs o f capitalist production, see also V ,
pp. 124-29 (D , 6; B6a, 1; B7, 7; B7a, 3; B8a, 1; B8, 2).

98. V , p. 51 (1935 expose).

99. Cf. B enjam in’s note: “ Fashion/Tim e / / Lethe (M o d e rn )” (V , p. 1001 [D°, 5]).

100. V , p. 131 (B9a, 1).

101. Benjam in cites R udolph von J h crin g (1883): “ ' [ . . . ] the th ird motive o f our fashion
today: it s . . . tyranny. Fashion contains the external criterion that o n e . . . belongs to “ good
society.” W hoever does not w ant to do w ith o u t this must go along w ith it [ . . . ] ’ ” (V , p. 125
[B6a, 1]).

102. Paul V alery (1935), cited V , p. 123 [B5a, 2 ]).

103. V, p. 115 (B2, 4).

404_____________________

Notes to pages 99-101

104. “ ‘The fashion o f buying one’s w ardrobe in London only pertained to men; the fashion
for women, even for foreigners, was always to o u tfit oneself in Paris’ ” (Charles Seignobos
[1932], cited V , p. 126 [B7, 3]).

105. V , p. 694 (S9a, 2).

106. Helen G rund (1933), cited V , p. 123 (B5, 3).

107. Georg Simmel (1911), cited V , p. 127 (B7, 8). W hy else is it weak bu t for the social
im plications o f her natural potency?

108. V , p. 1213 (expose note no. 7; again p. 1211, and B2, 5).

109. V , p. 115 (B2, 5).

110. Benjam in refers to the “ cu lt o f love: A tte m p t to lead the technical force o f production
in to the field against the na tura l force o f production” (V , p. 1210 [1935 expose note no. 5]).

111. V , p. 1015 (1°, 7). T h e reference is to Baudelaire.

112. “ Friedell explains w ith reference to the woman: ‘that the history o f her clothing man­
ifests surprisingly few variations, and is not much more than a change o f [ . . . ] nuances:
length o f the tra in, height o f the hairdo, length o f the sleeve, fullness o f the skirt, degree o f
decolletage, position o f the waist. Even radical revolutions like today’s bobbed ha ircut are
only the “ eternal recurrence o f the same” [ . . . ] . ’ Thus according to the author, female
fashion contrasts to the more varied and decisive masculine one” (Egon Friedell [1931], cited
V , p. 120 [B4, 1]). See also V , pp. 1207 and 1032 (0*, 60).

113. In connection w ith w o rld expositions and com m odity display, Benjam in studied G rand-
v ille ’s m idnineteenth-century lithographs closely. The imagery o f Heaven and H ell in con­
nection w ith Paris occurs in G ra n d v ille ’s Un autre Monde when the hero K ra ckq dreams he is
visiting the pagan heaven, the “ Elysian Fields,” and finds there famous personages o f his own
era enjoying the m aterial pleasures o f Paris’ Champs Elysees; K ra ckq then moves to the
low er regions, where C haron’s ferry boat business across the river Styx is ruined by the
construction (as then in Paris) o f an iron footbridge (V , p. 215 [F2, 3]).

114. “ Focillon [1934] on the phantasmagoria o f fashion” (cited V , p. 131 [B9a, 2]).

115. V , p. 115 (B2a, 5).

116. V , pp. 117-18 (B3, 5; also B l, 5).

117. A p ollina ire (1927), cited V , pp. 118-19 (B3a, 1).

118. V , p. 132 (BlOa, 2).

119. V , p. 1207 (1935 expose note no. 2).

120. Auguste Blanqui (1885), cited V , p. 129 (B8a, 3). Cf.: “ Re: the section on flowers. The
fashion magazines o f the tim e contained instructions on how to conserve bouquets” (V ,
p. 1035 [ F , 1]).

121. V, p. 130 (B9, 2).

122. V , p. 130 (B9, 2)

405

Notes to pages 101-103

123. V, p. 118 (B3, 8).

124. V , p. I l l (B l, 4).

125. V , p. 118 (B3, 8).

126. V, p. 126 (B6a, 4).

127. Benjam in notes that this fragm entation, w hich “ secretly values the image o f the
corpse,” can be found in Baroque literature as well as in Baudelaire (V , p. 130 [B9, 3]).
See below, chapter 6.

128. V, p. 139 (B8, 4).

129. V , p. I l l (B l, 4).

130. V , p. 51 (1935 expose). The passage continues: Fashion “ affirms the rights o f the corpse
over the living. Fetishism, which lies at the base o f the sex appeal o f the inorganic, is its vita l
nerve, and the cu lt o f the com m odity recruits this into its service” (ibid.; again B la , 4, and
B9, 1).

131. “ * [ . . . I ] t becomes d iffic u lt to distinguish merely by the clothing an honest woman from
a courtesan’ ” (Charles Blanc [1872], cited V , p. 124 [B5a, 3]). Indeed: “ ‘The fashionable
type [in the Second E m pire] is the grande dame who plays at being a cocotte” ’ (Egon Friedell
[1931], cited V , p. 125 [B6a, 2]).

132. V , p. I l l ( B l, 4; again F°, 1). The figure o f the prostitute w ith in the setting o f the
aracades, in connection w ith fashion and commodities, death and desire, echoes A ragon’s
description in Le Paysan de P aris.

133. V , p. 137 (C2, 1).

134. J. F. Benzenberg (1805), cited V , p. 143 (C3a, 2).

135. V ic to r Hugo (1881), cited V , p. 146 (C5a, 1).

136. Sigmund Englander (1864), cited V , p. 142 (C3a, 1).

137. ‘“ The cold in these subterranean galleries is so great that many o f the prisoners [from
the June insurrection] could keep the w arm th o flife only by continuous running or m oving
the ir arms, and no one dared to lay down on the cold stones. The prisoners gave all the
passages names o f Paris streets and exchanged addresses w ith each other when they met’ ”
(Sigmund Englander (1864), cited V , p. 142 [C3a, 1]).

138. D ubech-D ’Espezel (1926), cited V , p. 142 (C3, 8).

139. V , pp. 135-36 (C la , 2).

140. V , p. 1020 ( V , 22; again C2a, 2).

141. V , p. 1019 (L*, 7; cf. C l, 7). Benjam in compares the typography o f the Paris Passages to
Pausanias’ typography o f Greece, w ritte n in 200 A .D ., “ as the cu lt places and many o f the
other monuments began to decay” (V , p. 133 [C l, 5]).

142. V , p. 178 (D lOa, 4).

406______________________

Notes to pages 103-104

143. V , p. 1008 (F°, 31; again C l, 4).

144. V , p. 1033 (0*, 74; cf. 0 3 , 6).

145. G am bling, like prostitutio n, was not new, but capitalism changed its form : Just as
big-city prostitutio n became em blem atic o f the com m odity form, so: “ Speculation on the
stock exchange caused the forms o f gam bling that had come down from feudal society
to recede. [ . . . ] . Lafargue defined gam bling as a replication o f the mysteries o f the m ar­
ket situation in m in ia tu re ” (V , pp. 56 -57 [1935 expose]).

146. V , p. 1046 (g*, 1; again O l, 1).

147. C ritic iz in g the concept o f progress, Benjam in refers to “ S trindberg’s thought: H ell is
nothing that m ight stand before us— but this life here” (“ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 683).

148. V , p. 1056 (g°, 1).

149. See V , p. 114 (B2, 1).

150. V , p. 1057 (g°, 1).

151. V , p. 1057 ( g , l ) .

152. See B enjam in’s philosophical inte rpre tation o f the first chapter o f Genesis in “ C ber
Sprache uberhaupt und fiber die Sprachc des Menschen” ( I I , pp. 140-57), where A dam ,
w ho named God’s creatures in Paradise, is called the “ first philosopher.” There is a tension
here between the receptive and spontaneous poles o f human “ nam ing” (a tension expressed
in the double sense o f the German w ord “ heissen” : to mean, and to be named). Benjam in
wants to insist that the meaning o f nature is revealed to (rather than created by) humans.
The latte r bring the “ linguistic essence” o f things to speech, by translating the ir nameless,
mute language into the sound-language, the name-language o f humans. B u t it is G od’ s lan­
guage that created them and “ made things knowable in their names” (ib id ., pp. 142-49).
W ith o u t the prop o f the Genesis story (w hich, it could be argued, gives m ythic expression to
a philosophical desire rather than philosophical tru th ), m aintaining a philosophical distinc­
tion between the creation and the inte rpre tation o f meaning is problem atic. T h is is a ques­
tion to which we w ill return in chapter 7.

153. V , p. 962 (m la , 5).

154. Jean V audal (1937), cited V , p. 168 (D5, 6).

155. I t is a world o f strict discontinuity: “ The always-again-new is not the old that remains,
no r the past tha t recurs, but the one-and-thc-same crossed by coundess inte rrup tions. (T he
gam bler lives in the interruptions) [ . . . ] and w hat results from it: T im e o f H ell [ . . . ] ” (V ,
p. 1011 [ G \ 19]).

156. V , p. 165 (D3a, 4).

157. V , p. 167 (D4a, 3).

158. Louis V e u illo t (1914), cited V , p. 160 (D2, 2). Benjam in cites from Haussm ann’s
memoirs (1890) a late conversation between him and Napoleon I I I : “ Napoleon: ‘H ow rig h t
you are to m aintain that the French people who are considered so changeable are at bottom
the most routine prone in the w orld!*— [Haussm ann:] ‘Agreed, Sir, i f you pe rm it me the
qualification: As fa r as things arc concerned!. . . I have supposedly m yself com m itted the
double injustice o f having gready disturbed the population o f Paris, in d isru pting
407

Notes to pages 104-106

(bouleversant), in “ boulevardizing” ( boultvardisant) almost a ll sections o f the city, and o f having

Parisians weary o f seeing the same scene in the same setting nonetheless’ ” (cited V , p. 187
[E3, 3]).
Cf. B lanquis' criticism ofH aussm ann: ‘“ N oth in g so sad as this immense rearrangement o f
stones by the hands o f despotism, w ithou t social spontaneity. There is no more gloomy
sym ptom o f decadence. As Rome fell more deeply into its death-throes, its monuments
sprang up more numerous and more gigantic. I t was b u ild in g its tomb, making itse lf beauti­
ful for death’ ” (Auguste B lanqui, cited V , pp. 205-06 [ E lla , 1]).

159. V , p. 178 (D10a, 2). A ‘‘metaphysics o f w a itin g ” was planned for the Passagen-Werk,
under the key w ord “ Boredom.”

160. Cf. K o n v o lu t D, entided “ Boredom, Eternal Recurrence.” (Baudelaire refers to the

dandy as ‘ ‘an unemployed Hercules” [D 5, 2]).

161. Jules M iche let (1846) refers to the first specialization o f unskilled labor as “ ‘ “ the hell o f
boredom ” at the textile looms: “ Forever, forever forever” is the invariable word that the
autom adcally turned wheel [ . . . ] sounds in our ear. One never gets used to it ” ’ ” (M ichelet,
cited in Friedm an [1936], cited V , p. 166 [D 4, 5]).

162. V , p. 164 (D3, 7). Cf.: “ Boredom is always the outer surface o f unconscious happen­
ings” (V , p. 1006 [F°, 8; again, D2a, 2)).

163. V , p. 161 (D2, 7; cf. F*. 11).

164. “ W aiting and m aking people wait. W aiting is the form o f existence o f [society’s] para­
sitic elements” (V , p. 1217 [1935 expose notes no. 12 and 13]).

165. I t is the source o f Baudelaire’s “ spleen.” His Paris is rainy, somber (cf. V , p. 157 [ D l,
4])-

166. “ N oth in g bores the average man more than the cosmos. Hence the most intim ate con­
nection for him between boredom and the weather” (V , p. 157 [ D l, 3]; cf. D2, 8]). Benjamin
notes “ the double meaning o f 'tem ps' in French [tim e and w eather]” (V , p. 162 [D2a, 3]).

167. V , p. 162 (D2a, 4).

168. “ The gambler. T im e squirts out o f his every pore” (V , p. 164 [D 3, 4]).

169. V , p. 164 (D3, 4).

170. V , p. 161 (D2, 7).

171. “ L ’E ternite par les astres” (Paris, 1872).

172. See letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 6 January 1938, cited I, p. 1071.

173. “ B lanqui subm its to bourgeois society. B u t he comes to his knees w ith such force that its
throne begins to to tte r” (V , p. 168 [D 5a, 2]).

174. The passage concludes “ The piece, which lingu istically has great strength, bears the
most remarkable relation to both Baudelaire and Nietzsche” (V , p. 169 [D5a, 6], see also
letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 6 January 1938, I, pp. 1071-72 and below, chapter 6,
section 5).
408______________________

Notes to pages 106-110

175. Auguste B lanqui (1872), cited V , p. 170 (D6, 1).

176. Auguste B lanqui (1872), cited V , p. 170 (D6, 1).

177. Auguste B lanqui (1872), cited V , p. 170 (D6a, 1).

178. Auguste B lanqui (1872), cited V , p. 171 (D7, D7a).

179. V . p. 429 (J62a, 2).

180. V , p. 429 (J62a, 2). B enjam in calls “ the theory o f eternal recurrence” a “ dream o f the
amazing discoveries yet to come in the area o f reproduction technology” ( “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I,
p. 680).

181. See V , pp. 174-78 (series D9 and D10). Given Nietzsche’s then well-known theory o f
eternal recurrence (cited in the early notes, D l", 1), it is difficu lt to see how B enjam in’s
excitement in discovering B la n q u i’s texts could have been sparked by the ideas themselves
(even i f B la n q u i’s description o f endless repetition expresses more transparently the mass
production characteristic o f com m odity society). The texts o f Blanqui, the great proletarian
revolutionary (and the great adversary o f M a rx ’s theories) lent themselves to being woven
in to the fabric o f the Passagen-Werk not merely as a critique o f the bourgeois ideology o f
progress (also found in Nietzsche), bu t as (M a rxist) pedagogy v ita l for the revolutionary
awakening o f the proletarian class. B enjam in noted: “ There is a version in w hich Caesar
rather than Zarathustra is the bearer o f Nietzsche’s theory. T h a t is significant. I t underlines
the fact that Nietzsche had an in k lin g o f the com plicity o f his theory w ith im pe rialism ” (V ,
p. 175 [D9, 5]). Nietzsche, scornful o f the masses, never intended to champion the proletarian
cause. The fact tha t B lanqui, on the contrary, was their tireless supporter, makes his own
resignation a ll the more pow erful from a pedagogic point o f view.

182. V , p. 177 (DlOa, 1): “ Life in the magic circle o f eternal recurrence perceives an exis­
tence that doesn’ t step out o f the au ra tic.”

183. V , p. 1256 (see also 1939 expose, p. 61).

184. V , p. 1010 (G°, 8).

185. V , p. 1023 (M °, 14).

186. V , p. 591 (N9, 5).

187. V , p. 178 (D lO a, 5).

5 M y th ic N a tu re : W is h Im a g e

1. V , p. 1212 (1935 expose note no. 5).

2. V , p. 560 (M l6 a , 3).

3. “ M y analysis deals w ith this th irs t for the past as its m ain object” (V , p. 513 [L la , 2]).

4. Friedrich Theodor V ischer (1861), cited V , p. 115 (B2a, 3).

5. V , p. 1017 (K °, 20).
409

Notes to pages 110-114

6. V , p. 110 (B l, 2 and B l, 3).

7. “ U ber einige M o tive bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 634.

8. “ One can describe the phalansterie as a human machine. T h a t is not a criticism , nor does
it mean something mechanistic; instead it describes the great com plexity o f his construction.
I t is a machine out o f human beings” (V , p. 772 [W 4, 4]).

9. 1935 expose, V , p. 47.

10. V , p. 838 (Y7, 5).

11. V , p. 228 (F7, 3).

12. “ ‘In the m id - [18] 80s, the first iron fu rniture appears, as bedposts, chairs [. . . ], and it
is very characteristic o f the times that advertised as the ir p a rtic u la r advantage was the fact
they were capable o f being mistaken for every kind o f wood’ ” (M a x von Boehn [ 1907], cited
V , p. 212 [F I, 3; see also F5a, 2]. CF.: “ ‘C abinet making in iron rivals tha t in wood [ . . . ] ’ ”
(Foucaud [1844], cited V , p. 225 [F5a, 2]).

13. V , p. 287 (I2a, 3, and 12a, 4).

14. V, p. 1011 (G°, 22).

15. V , p. 152 (C8, 2).

16. V , p. 260 (G12a, 2).

17. V , p. 216 (F2, 8).

18. V , p. 216 (F2, 8).

19. V , p. 105 (A lO a, l;a ls o F4, 5).

20. V , p. 98 (A7, 5).

21. V , p. 1044 (a0, 1; again, F3, 2).

22. V , p. 1052 (d°, 2; again F I, 2 and F3, 2).

23. V , p. 1031 (0°, 42).

24. V , p. 46 (1935 expose; also F2, 7). Cf. an 1875 project fo r a railroad station: “ ‘Rails
supported by elegant arches elevated 20 feet above the ground and 615 meters long’ ” — “ ‘a
sort o f Ita lia n mansion’ ” ; “ ‘H ow little it divined the future o f the railroad’ ” (M axim e
D uC am p [1875], cited V , p. 214 [F2, 1]).

25. Sigfried G icdion (1928), cited V , p. 215 (F2, 5).

26. V , p. 497 (K 2a, 4).

27. V , pp. 46 -47 (1935 expose). There are several versions o f the expose. This version is M 2
(the latest version, published in V as the most definitive).

28. See B loch’s discussion o f B enjam in’s Einbahnstrasse, “ Revucform der Philosophic” [1928]
in E rbschaft dieser Z e it [1935], vol. 4 o f Ernst Bloch, Gesamtausgabe (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhr-
410

N o te s to pages 1 1 4 -1 1 8

kam p Verlag, 1962), pp. 368-71. Bloch claimed that in Benjam in’s w ritin g “ ever-new T s ”
appear and then “ efface themselves” ; in place o f a rccognizeable “ ' I ’ ” or “ ‘we’ ” there is
“ only the body daw dling along, not first and foremost ear and eye, not w arm th, goodness,
wonder, but instead clim atica lly sensitized toched and taste [ . . . ] philosophemes o f the
w orld are placed in w indow displays under glass” (ibid., pp. 369-70). Precisely in this book
by Bloch, however, Benjam in saw his own ideas expressed so closely that he stopped sharing
them w ith Bloch, out o f fear o f plagiarism (see letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 9 August 1935,
V , p. 1137).

29. V , pp. 1224-25 (1935 expose, M 1 version, n.d. [see ed. note, p. 1252]).

30. M a rx, cited V , p. 217 (F2a, 5).

31. V , p. 217 (F2a, 5).

32. The A rtw o rk essay (composed in the fall o f 1935) uses the Lukacsian term “ second
nature” that rarely appeared in B enjam in’s w ritin g : “ O u r emancipated technology, how­
ever, confronts today’s society as a second nature, and indeed, as economic crises and wars
demonstrate, no less elemental than th a t nature w hich was given to ur-society. Confronted
w ith this second nature, the hu m a n ity that o f course has invented it but long since ceased to
master it, is forced to undergo ju s t such a learning process as it was w ith the first nature” ( I,
p. 444).

33. V , p. 139 (C2a, 2).

34. V , p. 1225 (1935 expose, M l version).

35. T h is is the w ording o f the late r version o f the expose cited above.

36. V , p. 777 (W 7, 4).

37. V ic to r Hugo, cited by George B etault (1933), cited, V , p. 907 (d3, 7).

38. V , pp. 765-66 (W la ).

39. V , p. 47 (1935 expose).

40. Langle and Vanderbusch (1832), cited V , p. 50 (1935 expose).

41. Cf. V , p. 852 (a l, 1).

42. Com m enting on the m idnineteenth-century mania among tradesmen to metam orphize
the ir products so tha t they took another form , as i f in the age o f industrialism anything could
be made out o f anything (even bakers took to b u ild ing cakes like architectural o r sculptural
edifices), Benjam in wrote tha t this had its source in a “ helplessness” w hich “ sprang in pa rt
from the overabundance o f technological methods and new materials w ith w hich people had
been presented overnight. W here they attem pted to make these more fu lly the ir own it re­
sulted in misconceived, deficient endeavors.” B ut it is here that he adds: “ From another side,
however, these attempts are the most authentic witness o f ju s t how caught in a dream tech­
nological production was in its beginnings. (Technology, not ju s t architecture, is witness in a
certain stage to a collective dream )” (V , p. 213 [F la , 2]).

43. For example, in a section added in the the 1939 expose Benjam in considered it im p o rta n t
to point out that M a rx defended Fourier, and that: “ One o f the most remarkable traits o f the
Fourierist utopia is that the idea o f the exploitation o f nature by human beings, w hich subse­
quently became so prevalent, is foreign to it. [ . . . ] The later conception o f the de fa cto
411
Notes to pages 118-123

exploitation o f nature by human beings is the reflection o f the exploitation o f people by the
owners o f the means o f production. I f the integration o f technology into social life has failed,
the fault lies in this exploitation” (V , p. 64; see also below, chapter 8, section 6).

44. V , pp. 1224-25 ( M 1 version o f the 1935 expose).

45. V , p. 245 (G5, 1) cites the w ell-know n passage from chapter 1 o f C ap ita l, which Benjam in
has taken from O tto Ruhle, K a rl M a rx : Leben und Werk (1928).

46. M a rx and Engels, “ The H oly F a m ily” [1843], published 1932, cited V , p. 778 (W 7, 8).

47. A dorno received a version ( T 1) in some ways different from both o f the ones cited here
(ed. note, V , p. 1252); bu t the passage we are considering is the same in T 1 and the first
version (from the 1935 expose, pp. 46 -47) cited above.

48. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, V , p. 1128.

49. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 A ugust 1935, V , p. 1128.

50. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, V , p. 1128.

51. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, V , p. 1113.

52. Letter, Benjam in to Gretel K arp lu s, 16 August 1935, V , p. 1138.

53. See above, chapter 4.

54. These passages (see above, note no. 45) were recorded in Konvolut “ G ” in the early
section “ assuredly w ritte n before June 1935” (ed. note V , p. 1262), that is, before Benjam in
received the letter w ith A dorno’s remostrances.

55. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 A ugust 1935, V , p. 1132.

56. See above, chapter 3.

57. K a rl M a rx , “ D er 18* B rum aire des Louis N apoleon,” D ie Revolution (1852), K a rl M a rx

and Friedrich Engels, Werke, vol. 8 (B erlin: D ietz Verlag, I960), p. 115.

58. M a rx , “ 18" B rum aire,” p. 116. La ter M a rx w ould endorse enthusiastically the Paris
Comm une, because the w orking class voiced its own interests. Benjam in documents, how­
ever, tha t even the Comm unards, who had everything to lose from such “ self-deception”
regarding the class content o f the struggle, fell v ic tim to the revolutionary phantasmagoria;
the Comm une “ felt its e lf thoroughly the in h e rito r o f 1793” (V , p. 950 [k la , 3]). “ The illu ­
sions tha t s till underlay the Commune come to expression in a striking way in Proudhon’s
form ulation, appealing to the bourgeoisie: ’Save the people; save yourselves, as did your
fathers, by the R evolution’ ” (V , p. 952 [k2a, 1]).

59. M a rx , “ 18* B rum aire,” p. 116.

60. M a rx, “ 18* B rum aire,” p. 116.

61. M a rx , “ 18* B rum aire,” p. 115.

62. V , pp. 500-01 (K 3a, 2), cf. the earlier entry (0°, 32) w hich has in place o f “ clear to us,”
“ ur-historical.” The K 3a, 2 version adds: “ O f course: w ith in the dialectical essence o f tech­
nology this throws lig h t on only one moment. (W hich one it is difficu lt to say: antithesis i f not
synthesis.) In any case there exists in technology the other moment: that o f bringing about
412

Notes to pages 123-125

goals that are alien to nature, also w ith means that are alien, even hostile to nature, that
emancipate themselves from nature and subdue it . ”

63. See V , pp. 451-54 (J72a, 4-J74, 3). Instead, in regard to the role o f farce in preparing
hum anity to separate from its past, he cites a related passage from M a rx ’s C ritique o f Hegel's
Philosophy o f R ig h t, V , p. 583 (N5a, 2).

64. M a rx, “ 18" B rum aire,” p. 116.

65. See above, chapter 2.

66. The close connection between the A rtw o rk essay and the Passagen-Werk is documented in
a letter w ritte n by Benjam in ju s t after com pleting the A rtw o rk essay to an unnamed D utch
woman (w ith w hom he fell in love in 1933): “ [ . . . T ]h e center o f gravity o f my w ork [ . . . ]
s till concerns m y big book [the Passagen-W erk]. B ut I now only seldom w ork on it in the
libra ry. Instead, I have interrupted the historical research [. . . ] and have begun to concern
myself w ith the other side o f the scale. For all historical knowledge can be conceptualized in
the image o f a pa ir o f scales [ . . . ] the one tray o f which is weighted w ith the past, the other
w ith knowledge o f the present. Whereas in the first tray the facts assembled cannot be m i­
nute and numerous enough, in the second, only a few heavy, significant weights are allowed.
I t is these that I have secured in the last two months through considerations o f tha t which
determines the life o f art in the present. In the process I have arrived at extraordinary
form ulations, emanating from totally new insights and concepts. A nd I can now declare that
the m aterialist theory o f art, about w hich one had heard much but seen nothing w ith one’s
own eyes, now exists.
Because it is the best thing I ’ve found since I found you, I sometimes thin k about showing
it to you” (letter, November 1935, V I , p. 814).

67. A rtw o rk essay, I I , p. 435.

68. Benjam in is cautious to say that a retrospective analysis o f this process cannot tell us in
advance w hat a rt w ill be like after the proletariat seizes power, “ not to m ention art in a
classless society,” but instead it makes certain prognostic claims possible regarding present
tendencies in art (A rtw o rk essay, I I , p. 435).

69. Cf. B enjam in’s assertion: “ [ . . . ] history is not only a science, but no less a form o f
recollection. W hat science has ‘established,’ recollection can modify. Recollection can make
the incomplete (happiness) into som ething finished, and that which is finished (suffering)
in to something incomplete. T h a t is theology; but in recollection we have an experience w hich
forbids us to conceive o f history as fundam entally atheological, ju s t as little as we are allowed
to attem pt to w rite it in terms o f im m ediately theological concepts” (V , p. 189 [N 8, 1]). For
w hy Benjam in is “ not allow ed” to use theological concepts, see below, chapter 7.

70. Given the eliptical language o f the expose, and the fact that the abundant historical data
in the Passagen-Werk m aterial on the relationship o f art and technology are assembled w ith
m inim al com mentary, a rigorous, systematic reconstruction o f B enjam in’s argum ent is im ­
possible on the basis o f the Passagen-Werk alone. In the follow ing analysis, I have draw n on
related essays w hich Benjam in published in the years ju s t before and ju s t after the expose:
“ The A u th o r as Producer, ” I I , pp. 683-701, and “ The W ork o f A rt in the Age o f Its
Technical R eproduction,” I, pp. 435-508.

71. Except for a few references to K raca uer’s w ork on Offenbach, material and com m entary
relevant to music are noticeably lacking in the Passagen-Werk, perhaps because among the
Frankfu rt In s titu te members, this was clearly A d o rn o ’s intellectual preserve. Y et the earliest
notes (1927 A ° series) do make these observations: “ M usic in the Passages. I t appears to
have first settled into these spaces w ith the decline o f the arcades, that is, ju s t at the same
413

Notes to pages 125-126

rime as the age o f mechanically reproduced music. (Gramophone. The “ Theatrephone” is to

a certain extent its predecessor.) A nd yet there was music w ritte n in the sp irit o f the Pas­
sages, a panoram ic music that one now only gets to hear at respectably oldfashioned con­
certs, like those by the Kurkapelle in M onte Carlo: the panoram ic compositions o f D avid ( ‘Le
desert,’ ‘H ercu lanu m ’) ” (V , pp. 1005-06 [F°, 3]; see also 0°, 61 [ “ In jazz noise is emanci­
pated” ]; and G la , 6, H I , 2; H I , 5, Q la , 6, Q4a, 1).

72. Benjam in clearly considered M a rx ’s theory o f the superstructure inadequate (see e.g., V ,
p. 581 [N4a, 2 ]), and one o f the purposes in the Passagen-Werk was to make up for this lack.

73. V , p. 59 (1935 expose).

74. M a rx ’s theory that the superstructure is distinct from the forces o f production presumes
the division between art and technology as a social constant rather than a specifically
bourgeois phenomenon. I t neglects to consider the possibility (as an application o f his own
argum ent that forms o f socialism begin to appear w ith in the existing relations o f capitalism ),
that the effects o f indu strial capitalism may have been precisely to underm ine this division.

75. T he term “ ingenieur” was first used in France in the 1790s, applied to officers trained in
the art o f m ilita ry siege and fortications (V , p. 218 [F3, 6]).

76. “ ‘The characteristic o f I ’Ecole polytechnique . . . was the coexistence o f purely theoretical
tra ining w ith a series o f applied courses, relevant to civ il works, bu ild in g construction, m ilita ry
fortifications, m ining, even s h ip b u ild in g . . . Napoleon decreed the requirement that the stu­
dents live in barracks’ ” (de Lapparent [1894], V , p. 982 [ r l , 3]).

77. V , p. 219 (F3, 6).

78. Cf. Balzac’s c ritic a l judgm ent: “ ‘ I do not believe that an engineer from I ‘Ecole [polytech­
nique] w ould ever be able to b u ild one o f the miracles o f architecture that Leonardo da V in ci
knew how to erect [; the latter was a] mechanic, architect and painter all at once, one o f the
inventors o f hydraulics and tireless constructor o f canals. Formed at a young age by the
absolute sim p lic ity o f theorems, the persons com ing out o f I ’Ecole lose the sense o f elegance
and ornament; a p illa r appears useless to them; by not departing from u tility , they regress to
the point where art begins’ ” (Balzac, cited V , p. 986 [r3, 2]).

79. Giedion (1928), cited V , p. 217 (F3, 1).

80. ‘“ T he H a lle au ble b u ilt in 1811 [w hich, an ticip ating the arcades, had a central glass
skylight] received its complicated construction out o f iron and copper. . . from the architect
Bellange and the engineer Brunet. As far as we know, it is the first time that architect and
engineer were no longer united in one person’ ” (Giedion [1928], cited V , p. 215 [F2, 6]).

81. V , p. 217 (F3, 1).

82. Johann F riedrich Geist, Arcades: The H istory o f a B u ild in g Type, trans. Jane O. Newman
and John H . S m ith (Cam bridge, Mass.: The M I T Press, 1983), p. 64.

83. V , p. 222 (F4, 5).

84. “ ‘The most im p o rta n t step toward industrialization: the construction o f specific forms
(sections) out o f w rought iron or steel on mechanical roadways. The spheres interpenetrate:
one began, not w ith structural components, but w ith railroad tra cks. . . 1832. Here lies the
beginnings o f sectional iron, that is, the fundam ental basis o f steel frames [out o f which
modern skyscrapers were b u ilt]’ ” (Sigfried Giedeon [1928], cited V , p. 216 [F2, 8]).
414

Notes to pages 126-130

85. “ ‘The way from the E m pire-form o f the first locomotives to the consummated new objec­
tiv ity (Sachlichkeitsform ) o f today identifies a revolution” ’ (Joseph August L u x [1909], cited
V , p. 224 [F4a, 7]).

86. Giedion (1928), cited, V , p. 218 [F3, 5]).

87. V , p. 1016 (K °, 6).

88. V , p. 218 (F3, 5). Benjam in refers specifically to nos. 61-63 o f G iedion’s illustrations.
Reproduced here (figure 5.4) is no. 62.

89. Joseph August L u x (1909), cited V , p. 224 (F4a, 7).

90. Jou rnalist (1837), cited V , p. 219 (F3a, 2).

91. V , p. 229 (F7a, 1).

92. Em ile Levasseur (1904), cited V , p. 214 (F la , 4).

93. V , p. 56 (1935 expose).

94. F ritz Stahl (1929), cited V , p. 231 (F8a).

95. A . G. M eyer (1907), cited V , p. 219 (F3a, 1).

96. M eyer (1907), cited V , p. 219 (F3a, 1).

97. M eyer (1907), d ie d V , p. 220 (F3a, 4; cf. F3a, 1).

98. From a “ m uch-published” polem ic by Paris architects in 1805, cited V , p. 228 (F6a, 3;
also F4, 3).

99. Benjam in notes that neoclassical buildings could house any purpose precisely because
their architectural “ style” had nothing to do w ith u tility . H e rites V ic to r H ugo’s observation
that the pseudo-Greek temple b u ilt to house the Bourse could ju s t as w ell contain “ ‘a kin g ’s
palace, a House o f Commons, a city hall, a college, a merry-go-round, an academy, a ware­
house, a court, a museum, a barracks, a tom b, a temple, a theater’ ” (H ugo, cited V , p. 227
[F6a, 1]). In contrast, the p u b lic responded to a newspaper query as to how the C rystal
Palace m igh t be used after the London Exposition by suggesting everything from a hospital to
p u blic baths to a lib ra ry (V , p. 225 [F5a, 1]). Benjam in comments: “ T h e Bourse could mean
anything; the C rystal Palace could be used for everything” (ibid .). O n the arbitrariness o f
meaning as a characteristic o f com m odity society, see chapter 6 below.

100. M eyer (1907), cited V , p. 221 (F4, 1; also F2a, 1).

101. H e was confronted w ith the p ractical problem o f enclosing “ ‘marvelous elm trees w hich
neither the Londoners nor Paxton wanted to tear dow n’ ” (M eyer [1907], cited V , p. 221
[F4, 2]).

102. V , p. 216 (F2a, 1; also F6a, 2).

103. M eyer (1907), cited V , p. 222 (F4, 5).

104. M eyer (1907), cited V , p. 222 (F4a, 1).

105. D ubech-D ’ Espezel (1926), cited V , p. 223 (F4a, 5). The “ gothic” iron style referred to
here is Eiffel’s 1878 Paris E x h ib itio n H a ll (pictured below, chapter 9, figure 9.7).
415

Notes to pages 130-133

106. Perret (1935), cited V , p. 230 (F8, 4).

107. C ited V , p. 222 (F4, 6).

108. V , p. 1062 ( “ D er S atum ring, odcr etwas von Eisenbau” ).

109. V , p. 223 (F4a, 4).

110. V , p. 216 (F2, 8).

111. Cheronnet (1937), cited V , p. 230 (F8, 2).

112. V , p. 826 (Y la , 4).

113. V , p. 826 (Y la , 4; also Q2, 7). “ The first Panorama o f Paris was directed by an A m er­
ican from the U nited States. . . by the name o f F u lto n . . . [H e was] the engineer [w ho in ­
vented the steamboat. . . ] ” (Louis Lu rin e [1854], cited V , p. 664 [Q 4, 2 ]).

114. V , p. 658 (Q la , 8).

115. V , p. 655 ( Q l, 1).

116. V , p. 659 (Q2, 2).

117. V , p. 659 (Q2, 5).

118. V , p. 658 (Q la , 8; also Q2, 6).

119. V , p. 48 (1935 expose). In the same year (1839) that Daguerre’s panorama burned
down, he made his discovery o f daguerreotype (ibid .; cf. Q2, 5.).

120. V , p. 49 (1935 expose).

121. “ W hen daguerreotype, that giant child, w ill have attained the age o f m a tu rity, when all
its force, all its power w ill have been developed, then the genius o f art w ill suddenly grab it
by the collar and cry: ‘M ine! You are m ine now! We are going to w ork together’ ” (A ntoine
W ie rtz [1870], cited V , p. 824 [ Y l, 1]).

122. B enjam in’s A rtw o rk essay tells us that photographic reproduction transformed images
from aesthetic objects into a practical language o f com m unication: “ [T ]h e process o f picto­
ria l reproduction was accelerated so enormously that it w ould keep pace w ith speech” (I,
p. 475). Photographic images expanded the range o f cognitive experience: “ For example, in
photography the process o f reproduction can brin g out aspects o f the original not attainable
to the naked eye, but only to the lens, w hich is adjustable and chooses its focus at w ill. A nd
w ith the aid o f certain processes such as enlargement o r slow motion, photographic repro­
duction cancapture images w hich escape natural vision to ta lly ” (ibid., p. 476).

123. M a rx . E a rly W ritings, cited V , p. 802 ( X la , 3).

124. M a rx , E a rly W ritings, cited V , p. 802 ( X la , 3).

125. M a rx , E a rly W ritings, cited V , p. 801 (X la , 2).

126. V , p. 49 (1935 expose).

127. Gisele Freund (1930 ms.), cited V , p. 826 (Y la , 4).

416

Notes to pages 133-136

128. V , p. 827 (Y2, 2).

129. V , p. 827 (Y2, 3).

130. Arago, cited in Freund (1930 ms.), cited V , pp. 830-31 (Y4, 1).

131. Benjam in describes: the “ photographic reproduction o f art as one phase in the struggle
between photography and p a in tin g ” (V , p. 826 [Y la , 3]).

132. Benjamin challenged the description o f his friend Gisele Freund, whose 1930 manuscript
on the history o f photography he otherwise cited w ithou t criticism , precisely on the po in t o f
photography’s democratizing im pact: “ ‘P hotography. . . was adopted first w ith in the
dom inant class. . .: industrialists, factory owners, and bankers, men o f state, litera ty figures
and the intellectuals.’ ” Benjam in expressed doubt: “ Is this true? Should not, rather, the
succession be reversed?” (V , p. 829 [Y3, 2]).

133. Interpreters o f Benjam in have insisted that he lamented the “ disintegration o f the aura”
o f artworks. T h is was, rather, A dorno’s postion, part o f his apprehension regarding mass
culture generally. The Passagen-Werk m aterial demonstrates quite unequivocably that Ben­
ja m in was no more (nor less) swayed by nostalgia in his description o f these objective de­
velopments than, say, M a rx , when he wrote in the 1848 M anifesto o f the C om m unist P arty
that the bourgeoisie “ has pitilessly torn asunder the m otley feudal ties tha t bound man to his
‘natural superiors’ [ . . . ] . ”
Aesthetic aura was subjective illusion. The metaphysical aura o f objects, however, was
another m atter. The latter, rather than veiling tru th , only shone forth when the tru th o f
objects was exposed. For a discussion o f the difference, sec below, chapter 7.

134. W alter Crane (1895/96), cited V , p. 828 (Y2a, 5).

135. V , p. 832 (Y4a, 4).

136. V , p. 832 (Y4a, 3).

137. V , p. 838 (Y7, 5). B enjam in’s example is from G alim ard (1805): “ 'W e w ill be one w ith
the opinion o f the pu blic in a d m irin g . . . the fastidious artist who . . . represents him self this
year w ith a pa in ting that in its finesse could contend w ith the proofs o f daguerreotypes.’ ”

138. V , p. 832 (Y4a, 2). A ction photography, first possible in 1882, inaugurated ph otojou r­
nalism (Y7, 8).

139. V , p. 49 (1935 expose).

140. V , p. 45 (1935 expose); see as example V , p. 98 (A7, 1).

141. C abinet des Estampes, B ibliotheque N ationale (n.d.), cited V , p. 908 (d3a, 7).

142. C abinet des Estampes, cited V , p. 908 (d3a, 6).

143. “ “ ‘In Marseilles around 1850, there was a total o f four or five m inia ture painters, o f
whom only two enjoyed the p a rtic u la r reputation o f finishing fifty po rtra its in the course o f a
year. These artists’ earned ju s t enough to make a liv in g . . . A few years late r there were in
Marseilles forty to fifty photographers. . . Each produced yearly an average o f 1,000 to 1,200
negatives w hich they sold for 15 francs a piece, receiving 18,000 francs, so that the group o f
them constituted a business turnover o f close to a m illio n . A nd one could confirm the same
development in all the large cities o f France” ’ ” (V id a l [1871], cited in Freund, cited V , p.
830 [Y3a, 2]).
417

Notes to pages 136-138

144. V , p. 49 (1935 expose). In “ The A u th o r as Producer,” Benjam in criticizes the fact that
photography “ can no longer depict a tenement block or a garbage heap w ith o u t transfigur­
ing it. [ . . . ] For it has succeeded namely in making even misery, by recording it in a fashion­
ably perfected manner, an object o f enjoym ent” ( I I , p. 693).

145. C om m ercially successful photographers used props, backdrops, and retouching, tryin g
to m im ic painters (cf. V , p. 831 [Y4, 4]). D isderi suggested that by means o f such props one
could im itate historical “ genre” paintings (V , pp. 831-32 [Y4a, 1]).

146. “ Inve ntion o f the high-speed press 1814. I t was first applied by the [Lo ndo n] Times” (V ,
p. 835 [Y5a, 8]).

147. I I , pp. 683-701. T his was a speech delivered at the In s titu t zum Studium des Fascismus in
Paris, a fro nt organization for the C om m unist Party.

148. As early as 1822 Sainte-Beuvc recognized this potential: “ ‘W ith our electoral and in ­
du strial habits o f life, everyone, at least once in his life, w ill have had his page, his speech, his
prospectus, his toast— he w ill be an author [. . . . B]esides, in our day, who can say that he
does not w rite a bit in order to liv e . . . ? ’ ” (cited V , pp. 725-26 [U 9, 2]).

149. “ T h e A u th o r as Producer,” I I , pp. 686-88 and 696.

150. A rtw o rk essay, I I , pp. 688-89.

151.11, p. 688.

152. I I , p. 688.

153. I I , p. 688.

154. I I , p. 688.

155. I I , p. 688. The central core o f B enjam in’s argument (the whole o f p. 688) is in fact a
self-quotation o f the earlier piece, “ die Z c itu n g ” ( I I , pp. 623-24), which he wrote as pa rt o f a
supplement, or addendum to Einbahnstrasse, w ith the one difference that “ die Z eitung” does
not equate the ideal socialist press w ith the actual one in the USSR. Adorno wrote to Ben­
ja m in tha t he considered the piece, “ die Ze itung ,” “ exceptional” ( I I , p. 1437). Benjam in
never sent A dorno “ The A u th o r as Producer.”

156. A lready Balzac lamented: “ ‘ “ We have products, we no longer have works” ’ ” (Balzac,
cited in C urtiu s [1923], cited V , p. 926 [d l2 a , 5]).

157. Friedrich Kreyssig (1865), cited V , p. 824 ( Y l, 2).

158. F riedrich Kreyssig (1865), cited V . p. 825 ( Y l, 2).

159. “ Jacquot de M ire co u rt publishes a book: Alexandre Dumas and Co., Factory o f Novels
(Paris: 1845)” (V , p. 908 [d3a, 8]).

160. J . Lucas-D ubreton (1928), cited V , p. 908 (d4, 2).

161. Paulin L im yrac (1845), cited V , p. 903 ( d l, 4). N ot all w riters followed this path to
success (and some o f the most famous s till relied on state patronage.) Benjam in notes the
increasing economic precariousness o f independent w riters during the century. Whereas
the firs t generation, the “ guilded bohemians,” were from solid bourgeois backgrounds
(G autier, de Nerval, Houssaye) and indulged in social nonconformism w ithou t risking grave
418

Notes to pages 138-139

economic insecurity, “ ‘the true Bohemians, ’ ” w ho were s till in their twenties in 1848,
represented “ ‘a veritable intellectual proletariat: M u rg e r was the son o f a concierge ta ille u r, the
father o f C ham pfleury was secretary o f a town hall at L a o n . . . tha t o f D clvau a tanner from
the faubourg S aint-M arcel; the fa m ily o f C ourbet was a dem i-peasant. . .C ha m pfleu ry and
C h in tre u il handled packages for a bookdealer; Bonvin was a typography w orker’ ” (M a rtin o
[1913], cited V , p. 921 [dlO , 1], cf. p. 725 [U 8a, 5]). Benjam in’s prim e example o f the
autonomous w rite r was, o f course, Baudelaire, considered in detail in chapter 6 below.

162. V , p. 717 (U4a, 7).

163. T h e fact that newspapers first reached working-class audiences through in d ivid u a l sales
worked against another mode o f reception, the reading rooms (cabinets de lectures) w hich were
frequently found in the arcades. T h ey were places where for a small fee books and newspa­
pers could be read in a collective setting. These reading rooms, having to compete w ith cheap
publications, declined after 1850 (as d id the arcades).

164. V , p. 725 (U 9, 1).

165. V , p. 731 (U12, 3).

166. V, p. 734 (U13, 4).

167. Cf. the yearly statistics o f new jo u rnals launched, V , p. 737 (U14, 6).

168. V, p. 726 (U9a, 1).

169. Benjam in notes the “ connection between revenues [H ugo 300,000 francs for Les M iser-
ables; Lam artine 600^000 for Les G irondins ] and p o litica l aspirations” (V , p. 913 [d6a, 1]).
Sociopolitical im pact was not lim ite d to the electoral arena: “ The novels o f George Sand led
to an increase in divorces, almost all o f which were applied for from the side o f the woman.
The authoress carried on a large correspondence in which she functioned as advisor to the
women” (V , p. 914 [d6a, 7]).

170. E xem plifying this fundam entally idealist stance: V ic to r Hugo saw in the shape o f N otre
Dame an “ H ,” as the gigantic projection o f his own name (see V , p. 935 [d l7 a , 1]).

171. J. Lucas-D ubreton (1927), cited V , p. 903 ( d l, 3).

172. “ M eant iron ically: ‘ I t was a fortunate idea o f M . de Balzac to predict a peasant revolt
and demand the reestablishment o f feudalism! W h a t do you want? I t is his own brand o f
socialism. M m e. Sand has another. Likewise M . Sue: to each novelist his ow n’ ” (P aulin
Lim a yrac [1845], cited V , p. 903 [ d l, 5], cf, V , p. 926 [d l2 a , 6]).

173. A lb e rt M a lc t and P. G rille t (1919), cited V , p. 904 (d la , 3).

174. “ “ *[. . .T ]h e red flag w hich you bring to us has never done anything but tou r the
C ham p de M ars, dragged in the blood o f the people in '91 and '93, and the trico lo r has made
a tour o f the globe w ith the name, the glory and the liberty o f the na tion” ’ ” (Lam artine,
speech [at the H otel de V ille ], 25 February 1848, cited in A lb e rt M a le t and P. G rille t [1919],
cited V , p. 903 [ d l, 2]).

175. Friedrich Szarvody (1852), cited V , p. 904 (d la , 2).

176. O n 6 A p ril 1848, La m artin e assured a Russian diplo m at that the French population had
“ ‘ “ such healthy common sense, such a respect for the fam ily and for property” ’ ” that
“ ‘ “ order in Paris” ’ ” w ould be m aintained; moreover, the bourgeois N ational G uard who
419

Notes to pages 139-142

were called back to the city (and who ten days later were to put down a workers’ demon­
stration by violence) would, he maintained, “ * “ keep in check the fanatics o f the clubs, who
are supported by several thousand bums and c rim in al elements [ . . . 1” ’ ” (Lam artine, cited
in Pokrowski [1928], cited V , p. 925 [d 12, 2]).

177. “ Decisive facts in Les M iserables arc based on real occurrences” (V , p. 925 [d 12, 1]).

178. V , p. 907 (d3, 6).

179. Eugene Spuller, cited in E. M eyer (1927), cited V , p. 918 (d8a, 5).

180. V , p. 935 (d 17, 3).

181. V , p. 918 (d8a, 5). When H ugo subsequently participated in the resistence to Louis
N apoleon’s coup d ’etat, he was rewarded w ith exile from France.

182. As one c ritic satirized H ugo speaking: “ ‘ I make a revolutionary w ind rustle. I place a
red bonnet on the old dictionary. No more words, senator! N o more words, commoner! I
make a tempest at the bottom o f the in k -p o t’ ” (Paul Bourget [1885], cited V , p. 905 [d2a,
3]). A June '48 revolutionary passed this judgm ent: “ C itizen H ugo has made his debut in the
trib une o f the N ational Assembly. He was as we predicted: quack o f gestures and phrases,
orator o f bombastic and hollow words [ . . . ] (p olitical sheet, cited, V , p. 904 [d la , 2]).

183. V , p. 917 (d8, 4).

184. J. Lucas-D ubreton (1928), cited V , p. 908 (d4, 1).

185. Alphonse de Lam artine (n. d.), cited V , p. 937 (d 18, 5).

186. “ D er A u to r als Produzent,” I I , p. 687.

187. Cf. V , p. 926 (d l2 a , 2).

188. T he Passagen-Werk thus provides the historical research in support o f B enjam in’ s
p o litica l-c u ltu ra l pronouncement at the end o f the A rtw o rk essay that fascism “ acsthcticizes
politics; com munism responds by po litic iz in g a rt” (A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 508).

189. Balzac, cited in B atault (1934), cited V , p. 907 (d3, 5).

190. G autier, cited in A lfred M ichiels (1863), cited V , p. 906 (d3, 1).

191. V , p. 216 (F2, 8). The “ difficulties and criticism s” levied against technology were o f a
degree “ no longer easily comprehended” : I t was thought that. “ ‘steam carriages* ” should
ru n on “ streets o f granite” rather than railroad ties (“ D er S a tu m rin g . . . , ” V , p. 1061).

192. C ited, V , p. 906 (d2a, 5).

193. V , p. 826 (Y la , 5).

194. D ubech-D ’Espezel (1926), cited V , p. 826 (Y la , 5). T h e development o f railroads

‘“ surprised everyone’ ” (ib id .). Politicians were no more perceptive in recognizing the sig­
nificance o f the new railroads. “ ‘Thiers, thin kin g railroads w ould never function, had gates
constructed at Paris at the moment when he ought to have been bu ild in g tra in stations’ ”
(idem, cited V , p. 220 [F3a, 6]). “ ‘Haussmann d id n ’ t know how to adopt w hat one could
call a policy for [the construction of) tra in stations’ ” (idem, cited V , p. 223 [F4a, 3]).
420

Notes to pages 142-146

195. V , p. 834 (Y5a, 2).

196. T h is was the crucial point. B enjam in’s reason for assembling these historical facts was
to demonstrate to the w riters and artists o f his own era that the ir objective interests, as
“ technicians,” w ould “ sooner or late r” lead them to make assessments that w ould “ ground
the ir solidarity w ith the proletariat in the most passionate w ay” (“ D er A u to r als Produzent,”
I I , p. 699).

197. In its early years the Ecole polytechnique was receptive to the theories o f Saint-Simon (V ,
p. 728 [U lO a, 3]). M a rx noted in regard to the insurrection o f workers in 1848: “ ‘ In order
that the people’s last illusion disappear, in order that the past be broken w ith totally, the
custom arily poetic ingredient o f the enthusiastic bourgeois youth, the pupils o f the Ecole
poly technique, the three-brim m ed hats, had to stand on the side o f the oppressors’ ” (M a rx,
cited V , p. 987 [r3a, 2]).

198. V , p. 828 (Y2a, 6).

199. V , p. 232 ( G l, 1).

200. V , p. 59 (1935 expose).

201. “ D er A u to r als Produzent,” I I , p. 693.

202. Hence the “ phantasm agoria” o f the flaneur (V , p. 540 [M 6 , 6], whose perceptions,
blended w ith daydreams, paralleled those o f the hashish smoker (M 2, 3; M 2 , 4).

203. V , p. 1062 (“ D er S a tu rn rin g . . . ” ).

204. V , p. 692 (S8a, 1). B enjam in mentions Realism as the first attem pt to fuse the two in a
self-conscious response to the threat from technology (see S5, 5). By the time o f Jugendstil this
threat had “ fallen in to repression” ; Ju gendstil’s “ aggression” against technology, because
hidden, occurred “ all the more aggressively” (S8a, 1).

205. V , p. 693 (S8a, 7).

206. M arxists have tra d itio n a lly envisioned socialism as an overcoming o f the division be­
tween mental and manual labo r in tha t each member o f society w ill do some o f both. Ben­
ja m in ’s conception is that the technological revolution w ill make both kinds o f labor the
same. W h ile mental w ork is mediated by an increasingly technologized production appa­
ratus, “ manual” labor becomes intellectualized. He notes that at the building site o f the Eiffel
Tow er, “ ‘thought dominated over muscle power,’ ” as human energy found a substitute in
“ ‘sturdy scaffolding and cranes’ ” (V , p. 1063 [ “ D er S a tu rn rin g . . . ]).

207. V , p. 560 (M l6 a , 3).

208. These are cited heavily in the pre-1937 entries to Konvolut X , “ M a rx ” (Y, pp. 800-804).

209. V , pp. 500-01 (K 3a, 2), cf. the earlier entry (0°, 32), which has in place o f “ clear to us,”
“ ur-historical” . T he K3a, 2 version adds: “ O f course: w ith in the dialectical essence o f tech­
nology this throws lig h t on only one moment. (W hich one it is d ifficu lt to say: antithesis i f not
synthesis.) In any case there exists in technology the other moment: that o f b rin ging about
goals that are alien to nature, also w ith means that are alien, even hostile to nature, that
emancipate themselves from nature and subdue it . ”

210. V , p. 578 (N3, 1).

421
Notes to pages 146-158

211. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 211.

212. In caricature, “ ‘ the bourgeois society o f that century was opened up for a rt’ ” (Eduard
Fuchs [1921], cited V , p. 899 [b l, 4]).

213. Edouard D rum ont (1900), cited V , p. 899 ( b l, 1).

214. Daum ier was himself not w ithout nostalgia for the classical ideal: “ O n the artistic idea o f
the Em pire. Regarding D aum ier: ‘He was to the highest degree enchanted by muscular
agitation. Tirelessly, his pencil glorified the tension and a ctivity o f the m uscle. . . Yet the
pu blic realm o f w hich he dreamed had another measure than that o f this w orthless. . . shop­
keeper society. He yearned for a social m ilieu which, like Greek an tiquity, gave people a
basis on which they raised themselves as on pedestals in powerful be auty. . . There was
bound to o c c u r. . . a grotesque distortion i f one was observing the bourgeoisie from the per­
spective o f such presuppositions’ ” (Schulte [1913/14], cited V , p. 224 [F5, 2]).

215. Baudelaire, cited V , p. 901 (b2, 3; see also b2, 1).

216. “ D er A u to r als Produzent,” I I , pp. 698-99.

217. V , p .2 1 8 (F 3 , 2).

218. V , pp. 216-17 (F2a, 5).

219. V , p. 1022 (M °, 3).

220. V , p. 51 (1935 expose).

221. V , p. 51 (1935 expose).

222. V , p. 246 (G5a, 2; again, 1935 expose).

223. V , p. 51 (1935 expose).

224. V , p. 267 (G16, 4).

225. V , p. 51 (1935 expose).

226. In Un autre monde, G randville has his character see that “ ‘the ring o f this planet [S aturn]
is nothing else but a circula r balcony onto which Saturnites come in the evening to take
a breath o f a ir” ’ (G randville, [1844], cited V , p. 212 [F I, 7]; cf. p. 1060 [ “ D er
S a tu rn rin g . . . ” ]).

227. Benjam in asks whether, indeed, one could sec in this commodified nature the “ soul” o f
the w orker who had been sacrified to produce it (V , p. 260 [G12a, 3]).

228. V , p. 120 (B4, 5).

229. He cites Georg Sim m el’s criticism (1900) o f the “ ‘ totally childish concept,” ’ the
“ ‘m ythological manner o f th in kin g ’ ” that “ ‘we conquer or dom inate nature,’ ” and praises
Fourier for his “ entirely different reception o f technology” (V , pp. 812-13 [X 7a, 1]).

230. “ Ncues von B lum en” review o f K a rl Blossfeldt’s Urform en der Kunst. Photographische P flan-
zenbilder (1928), I I I , p. 152.
422

Notes to pages 158-160

231. “ Neues von Blum en,” I I I , p. 153.

232. “ Neues von B lum en,” I I I , P. 152.

233. “ Neues von B lum en,” I I I , p. 152. Benjam in cites M oholy-N agy on photography:
“ ‘ Here everything is s till so new that the very seeking itself leads to creative results’ ” (ibid.,
p. 151).

234. “ Neues von B lum en,” I I I , p. 152.

6 H is to ric a l N a tu re : R u in

1. Cf. A dorno’s de finition (w hich draws on B enjam in’s Trauerspiel study) o f Naturgesckichte as
“ a kind o f enchantment o f histo ry” (A dorno, “ Die Idee der N aturgeschichte,” GS I, p. 361).

2. V , p. 698 ( T l, 4; also T la , 8; cf. D°, 6; a°, 2).

3. V , p. 1046 (a°, 4). The novel opens w ith a description o f the Passage du Pont Neuf: “ [ . . . ]
a narrow, dark co rrid o r [ . . . ] paved w ith yellowish flagstones, w orn and loose, w hich al­
ways exude a damp, pungent smell, and it is covered w ith a flat glazed roofing black w ith
grime.
“ O n fine summer days, a w hitish lig h t does fall through the dingy glass roofing and hang
dism ally about this arcade [ . . . ] . T he m urky shops behind are ju s t so many black holes in
w hich w eird shapes move and have the ir being. [ . . . ] The Passage du Pont N c u f is no place
to go for a nice s tro ll” (E m ile Zola, Therese R aquin , trans. Leonard Tancock [N ew Y ork:
Penguin Books, 1978], pp. 31 -32).

4. V , p. 1215 (1935 expose note no. 9; cf. C2a, 9). “ A ll that [about w hich we are speaking
here] never lived, ju s t as tru ly as no skeleton has ever lived, but only a hum an being” (V , p.
1000 [D °, 3]).

5. Theodor W . Adorno, “ D ie Idee der Naturgeschichte” (1932), Gesammelte Schriften , vol. 1:

Philosophische Fruschriften , cd. R olfT ie dem ann (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkam p V erlag, 1973),
p. 356. A dorno cites, not the now-famous discussion o f “ second nature” in Lukacs’ H istory
and Class Consciousness, w hich uses the term as synonymous w ith M a rx ’s concept o f com m odi­
ty fetishism, bu t Lukacs’ earlier use o f the (Hegelian) term in Theory o f the Novel: “ ‘The
second nature o f hum an creation has no lyrical substantiality. Its forms are too fixed for the
sym bol-creating moment to nestle in them, [ . . . ] T h is nature is not mute, obvious and
meaningless like first nature; it is a frozen sense-complex tha t has become alien, no longer
awakening the soul. I t is a h ill o f skulls [ Schddelstdtte] o f decaying inwardness, and could
therefore— i f this were possible— only be awakened through the m etaphysical act o f a
reawakening o f the psychical that it created or contained in its form er or supposed existence,
never, however, capable o f being experienced by another inwardness’ ” (cited in ib id ., pp.
356-57).

6. A dorno, “ Die Id e e . . . GS I, p. 357.

7. A dorno, “ Die Id e e . . . GS I, p. 357. Cf. Benjam in’s comment in a letter to Scholem that
he and Lukacs came to sim ila r conclusions, despite different ways o f getting there {B riefe I. p.
355).

8. Adorno, “ Die Id e e . . . ,” GS I, p. 357.

9. A dorno, “ D ie Id e e . . . , ” GSt p. 358.

423

Notes to pages 161-165

10. Benjam in considered the emblem books o f the Baroque “ the authentic documents o f the
m odem allegorical way o f looking at things” ( Trauerspiel study, I, p. 339).

11. Trauerspiel study (I, p. 343), cited by A dorno, GS I, pp. 358-59.

12. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 354.

13. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 353.

14. Trauerspiel study (I, p. 343), cited by Adorno, GS I, p. 359.

15. T h is emblem has been described by the Baroque scholar G ottfried K irchner: “ The lemma
[tid e ] o f the em blem— ‘ V ivitu r ingenio ’— emphasizes continual life through the m ind. The
pictura [im age] shows the skeleton o f death in front o f a landscape-in-ruins o f the fate/vanity-
filled w orld, who holds in his hand o r touches w ith his foot the crown and scepter, transitory
attributes o f earthly power. N ext to it one sees on a flat rock a book overgrown w ith ivy, and
on w hich lies the snake in a circle, both em blematic signs o f eternal lastingness. The subscrip-
tio [caption] makes evident the connection between the separate levels o f the graphic com­
position [ . . .] . For the decline o f empires and the destruction o f the ir m ajor cities, the
position on Rome is exemplary in the seventeenth century; o f its earlier grandeur there
remains only an em pty concept” (G ottfried K irch n e r, Fortuna in D ichtung und Em blem atik des
B a rok: T ra d itio n und Bedeutungswandel eines M otivs [S tuttgart: J. B. Mctzlerische Verlagsbuch-
handlung, 1970], p. 78).

16. Baroque publisher’s preface to the dramas o f Jakob A yrer, cited Trauerspiel study, I,
p. 320.

17. V , p. 1216 (1935 expose note no. 11).

18. See, e.g., V , p. 153 (C8a, 2; C8a, 3).

19. See, e.g., V , p. 152 (C7a, 4).

20. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 354.

21. “ The [Baroque] poet must not conceal the fact that he is arranging, since it was not so
much the mere whole which was the center o f all intentional effects, bu t rather, its obviously
constructed q u a lity ” ( Trauerspiel study, I, p. 355).

22. V , p. 1215 (1935 expose note no. 10; again H 2, 6).

23. V , p. 344 (J22, 5).

24. “ Z e ntra lpark” (1939-40), I, p. 677. This fragm entary text was formulated specifically
w ith reference to B enjam in’s planned book on Baudelaire. The controversial relationship o f
this “ book” to the Passagen-Werk is discussed in the In tro d u c tio n to Part I I I , below.

25. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 354.

26. “ ‘T he man-made ruins [ . . . ] appear as the last heritage o f an a n tiq u ity that is visible in
the m odem w orld really only as a picturesque field o f ruins’ ” (K a rl Borinski, cited Trauerspiel
study, I, p. 354).

27. “ For it was absolutely decisive for the development o f this [Baroque] mode o f thought
tha t not transitorincss alone, bu t also g u ilt must appear to have an obvious home in the
province o f idols as in the realm o f the flesh” ( Trauerspiel study, I, p. 398).
424

Notes to pages 165-170

28. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 399.

29. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 399.

30. Benjam in considers this debasement a hallm ark o f “ modem allegory,” as opposed to
secular allegorical forms that appeared in Renaissance humanism , and in the anim al fables
o f a n tiq u ity itself. In B enjam in’s idiosyncratic schematization, this “ m odern” form has its
roots in the late (C hristian) era o f the H o ly Roman Em pire, w hich was “ pa rt o f an intensive
preparation for allegory” ( Trauerspiel study, I, p. 397), whereas the secular hum anism o f the
Renaissance appears as an atavistic recurrence o f the most ancient form o f allegory.

31. Baroque allegory is based on this C hristian attitude toward classical a n tiq u ity; the
A pollon ian conception o f this era came only later, w ith the Enlightenm ent. B enjam in cites
W arb urg’s observation: “ ‘The classically ennobled w orld o f the ancient divinitie s has, o f
course, been impressed upon us so deeply since the tim e o f W inckelm ann as the sign o f
a n tiq u ity in general that we entirely forget that it is a new creation o f the scholars o f hum an­
ist culture: T h is “ O ly m p ic ” aspect o f a n tiquity'ha d firs t to be wrested from the demonic side
that tra d itio n had brought to it [ . . . ] ’ ” (A by W arburg, cited Trauerspiel study, I, p. 400).

32. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 400 (cited V , p. 409 [J53a, 1]).

33. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 395.

34. Trauerspul study, I, pp. 399-400.

35. Trauerspiel study, I, pp. 398-99. “ [ . . . A ]llegorical exegesis tended above all in two direc­
tions: it was designed to establish the true, demonic nature o f the ancient gods as viewed by
C h ristia n ity, and it served the pious m o rtification o f the body. Thus it is not by chance that
the M id d le Ages and the Baroque took pleasure in the m eaning-filled juxtapositions o f im ­
ages o f idols and the bones o f the dead” (ibid ., p. 396).

36. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 398.

37. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 397. Notice that the rescue o f a n tiq u ity had nothing to do w ith
ahistorical, eternal tru th (as nineteenth-century neoclassicism w ould have it), b u t w ith its
radical reconstruction w ith in a to ta lly changed historical present.

38. Trauerspiel study, I, pp. 338-39, discussed above, chapter 1, section 3.

39. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 342.

40. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 342.

41. “ [W ]ith the radiance o f sunset, the transfigured countenance o f nature reveals itse lf
fleetingly in the lig h t o f redem ption” ( Trauerspiel study, I, p. 343).

42. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 342.

43. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 355.

44. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 339.

45. In the Trauerspiel study allegory is connected w ith “ stations o f decline” (I, p. 343).

46. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 397.

425

Notes to pages 170-173

47. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 244. “ H istorica l life” — indeed, social “ catastrophe” — was its
“ true object. In this it is different from tragedy,” the object o f w hich “ is not history, but
m y th ” (I, pp. 242-43).

48. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 405.

49. See especially chapter 7 below.

50. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 319.

51. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 346.

52. “ W h a t else than the theological conviction that the hieroglyphs o f the Egyptians contain
a tra ditiona l wisdom that illum inates every obscurity o f nature [ . . . ] is expressed in the
follow ing sentence o f Pierio Valerianos: ‘Since speaking in hieroglyphs is nothing other than
unveiling the nature o f things human and d ivin e ’ ” {Trauerspiel study, I, p. 347).

53. As emblematics developed: “ Egyptian, Greek, and C hristian picto rial languages in-
terpentrated” (Trauerspiel study, I, p. 348).

54. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 349.

55. K a rl Giehlow, cited Trauerspiel study, I, p. 350.

56. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 390.

57. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 398.

58. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 398.

59. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 400.

60. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 401.

61. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 398.

62. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 402.

63. “ For in this [Baroque] poetry, it is a common characteristic to pile up fragments

ceaselessly w ith o u t any s tric t idea o f a goal, w ith stereotypes taken for intensification, in the
u n rem ittin g expectation o f a m iracle” ( Trauerspiel study, I, p. 354).

64. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 363. B enjam in’s analysis o f the problem o f modern allegory is well
summarized by W iesenthal: “ In the allegoricists’s power over meanings there lies at the
same rime his impotence [ . . . ] . The m aterial objects observed by him are ‘incapable’ o f
‘ra diating a single meaning’ [W B ]. In its most extreme stamp, allegory becomes the express­
ion o f senseless com binations o f emblems tha t have been ‘hollowed ou t.’ Every emblem can
be dismissed; for in th e ir meaninglessness the emblems are a rb itra rily exchangeable.” (Lise-
lotte W iesenthal, Z u r Wissenschaftstheorie W alter Benjam ins [F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Athenaum ,
1973] ) ,p . 120.

65. Trauerspiel study, I, pp. 380-84.

66. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 404.

67. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 404.

426

Notes to pages 173-176

68. “ Thus in allegory an ambivalence occurs between the power to lend meaning to things on
the one hand, and the in a b ility to fix this meaning essentially on the other” (W iesenthal,
p. 58).

69. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 405.

70. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 405.

71. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

72. D aniel Gaspers von Lohenstein, cited Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

73. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

74. See p a rtic u la rly “ C ber Sprachc iiberhaupt und C ber die Sprache des Menschen”
(1916), passages o f which are incorporated into the Trauerspiel book (I, pp. 398 and 407); also
“ Z u r K r itik der G ew alt” (1921), and “ Theologisch-Politischcs Fragm ent” (1920-21)
[perhaps 1937-38], a ll in I I . However, the first o f these essays is problem atic. Benjam in
draws dire c tly from it in the closing pages o f the Trauerspiel study (I, p. 407) w ith o u t making
it clear where his description o f the allegoricists ends and his own theory begins, so that it
sometimes appears that he is affirm ing the Baroque solution. M ore probably he means to
affirm a theological solution, bu t not the C hristian one (see also below, chapter 7).

75. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 260. (T his was the medieval view.)

76. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 334.

77. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

78. “ T he vain a ctivity o f the in trig u e r was regarded as the undignified counter image o f
passionate contem plation [ . . . ] ” ( Trauerspiel study, I, p. 320.)

79. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 246.

80. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

81. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

82. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

83. C ited Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

84. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 406.

85. Trauerspiel study, I, pp. 406-07. Benjam in had made the same criticism o f the German
Romantics in his (1917) dissertation, “ D er BegrifTder K u n s tk ritik in der dcutschen Roman-
tik ,” I I , pp. 7-122.

86. R o lf Tiedem ann, Studien zu r Philosophie W alter Benjam in , intro, by Theodor W . A dorno
(F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1973), p. 38.

87. Letter, Benjam in to M a x Rychncr, 7 M a rch 1931, W alter Benjam in, B rie fe , 2 vols., eds.
Gershom Scholem and Theodor W . A dorno (F ra n kfu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p V erlag; 1978),
vol. 2, p. 523. See below, chapter 7, for a fu lle r discussion o f the connection.

88. Letter, B enjam in to A dorno, 31 M a y 1935, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 644 (and V , pp. 1117-18); see
also letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 20 M ay 1935, V , pp. 1112-13.
427

Notes to pages 176-178

89. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 10 November 1938, B rie fs , vol. 2, p. 783 (see above, chapter
1, section 5).

90. V , pp. 1022-23 (M °, 5).

91. See Susan Buck-M orss, The O rig in o f Negative D ialectics: Theodor W. Adorno, W alter Benjam in
and the F ra n kfu rt In stitu te (New Y ork: M a cm illan Free Press, 1977), pp. 20-23 and passim.

92. See discussion, chapter 7.

93. See above, chapter 1.

94. Benjam in m entions Kierkegaard in the closing pages o f the Trauerspiel study in connec­
tion w ith the “ subjectivism ” o f C hristian allegory (I, p. 407).

95. See Buck-M orss, O rig in o f Negative D ialectics , chapter 7, pp. 111-21.

96. Benjam in cites A dorno’s passage on the bourgeois in te rio r from the Kierkegaard study in
his Konvolut entitled, “ T he In te rio r; Trace” (Konvolut I) , V , pp. 290-91 (I3a).

97. Compare Buck-M orss, O rig in o f Negative D ialectics , pp. 116-21, w ith Konvolut I, “ In -
terieur, der S pur,” (V , pp. 281-300). T he image o f the bourgeois in te rio r is interpreted by
both A dorno and Benjam in as an emblem o f bourgeois consciousness, which retreats into a
subjective, inw ard realm (see letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935 [V , p. 1128]).

98. See in p a rtic u la r the entry N2, 7 (V , pp. 575-76), to w hich Benjam in returned repeatedly
in tria l arrangements o f the Passagen-Werk m aterial for the Baudelaire book (discussed below,
In tro d u c tio n to Part I I I ) .

99. V , p. 405 (J 5 1a, 5).

100. C ited V , p. 313 (J7, 3).

101. V , p. 460 (J77, 2).

102. “ B ut it is the Dante o f a fallen epoch, a Dante modern and atheist, a Dante come after
V o lta ire ” (Barbey d ’A u re v illy [1857], cited V , p. 306 [J3a, 1; see alsoJ3, 1; J 11, 3; J 11, 4;
J23a, 2; J26, l;J 3 3 a , 10; J37, 3 ]).

103. Baudelaire, cited V , p. 273 (H 2, 1).

104. Thus Benjam in writes: “ I f one could be perm itted a conjecture, it would be this, that
little w ould have been able to give [Baudelaire] so high an understanding o f his own o rig inal­
ity as reading the Roman satirists” ( “ Z e ntra lpark” [1939-40], I, p. 658).

105. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 677.

106. H onore de Balzac (1846), cited V , p. 84 ( A l, 4). T his fragment is noted in the material
for the Baudelaire book in the B ataille A rchive, B ibliotheque Nationale (under the keyword
“ C om m odity” ), as are v irtu a lly all o f the fragments cited in the discussion o f Baudelaire that
follows. (For a clarification as to the status o f the Baudelaire “ book” vis-a-vis the Passagen-
Werk, see below, In tro d u c tio n to Part I I I . )

107. A lthou gh Benjam in records the changes in Baudelaire’s professed political positions
(inclu ding his b rie f enthusiasm for the revolution in June 1848) it is not these that Benjam in
believes provide the interpreter w ith the key to the political meaning o f his poems. The latter
is not subjectively intended; it has an objective source.
428

Notes to pages 178-181

108. V , p. 309 (J5, 1).

109. Charles Baudelaire, “ Le Cygne,” The Flowers o f E v il [Les Fleurs du m al] cd. M a rlh ie l and
Jackson Mathews, revised cd. (New Y ork: New D irections Book, 1962), pp. 329-30 (trans.
mine). O n this poem see V , p. 450 (J72, 5), and passim.
A note on the Baudelaire translations: the standard English translations in the edition
cited above are by poets who take considerable license w ith the w ording, juxtaposed to w hich
B enjam in’s comments are often m ystifying. T h is is true as well o f the ju s tly praised, recent
translation o f Les Fleurs du m al by R ichard H ow ard. I have therefore made m y own transla­
tions, more litera l, i f less elegant, referring when possible to Benjam in’s own translations o f
significant portions o f Les Fleurs du m al in IV , pp. 23-82.

110. “ Ze ntra lpark,” I, p. 658.

111. There is reason to believe that Benjam in was inspired by a comment o f A dorno in his
(critica l) response to the 1935 expose. A dorno wrote: “ T h e com m odity is on the one hand the
alienated object in which use value dies out; on the other, however, that w hich survives
[. . . .T ]h e fetish— to carry further the connection you ju s tifia b ly establish in the B aroque'
[ Trauerspiel) book— is for the nineteenth century a faithless final image comparable only to
the hum an s ku ll” (letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, V , p. 1130). O n the m argin
next to this passage, Benjam in wrote: “ H ow does meaning stand in relation to exchange
value?” (original letter sent to Benjam in, envelope no. 5, Benjam in papers, B ataille Archive,
Bibliotheque N ationalc, Paris). H is answer is in fact w hat follows here.

112. V , p. 409 (J53a, 1).

113. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 660.

114. K a rl M a rx (1843), cited V , p. 805 (X 3, 6).

115. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 681. For a comparison o f the Baroque view tow ard God’s “ produc­
tio n ” o f hum an beings and assembly line production under capitalism, see V , p. 463 (J78, 4).

116. [M a rx , cited in ] O tto R iihle (1928), cited V , p. 245 (G5, 1).

117. V , p. 466 (J80, 2/J80a, 1).

118. “ The allegorical in tu itio n tha t in the seventeenth century shaped a style, no longer did
so in the nineteenth” ( “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 690). Hence: “ Baudelaire’s allegorical mode o f
conceptualizing was not understood by any o f his contemporaries, and thus in the end not
even commented upon” (V , 426 [J61, 3 ]).

119. Benjam in interprets Baudelaire as an “ u n w illin g detective,” in secret dissatisfaction

w ith his own bourgeois class (I, p. 543). Before “ the trib u n a l o f history,” his w ork bore
witness, however unintentionally, to the crim in al effects o f that class’s dom ination: H is
flaneric and his observations o f the crowd and the m arket made him “ an expert in the facts o f
the case” (V , p. 459 [J76a, 2 ]) . The return o f the same motifs in his poems “ can be tru ly
compared to the compulsion w hich draws the crim in a l repeatedly back to the scene o f his
crim e” (I, p. 669). “ The Fleurs du m al have three o f [the detective story’s] decisive elements
as disjecta membra: the v ic tim and the scene o f the crime ( ‘ Une M a rty re ’ ), the m urderer
( ‘Le V in de l ’assassin’ ), the masses ( ‘Le Crepescule du soir’ ). The fourth element is lacking,
the power o f understanding that could pierce through this affect-laden atmosphere” ( I,
p. 545). The “ signature” o f Baudelaire’s “ class betrayal” was not political but productive: H is
w ork was “ incom patible w ith the fashionable customs o f jo u rn a lis m ” (V , p. 416 [J56a, 5 ]).

120. V , p. 71 (1939 expose).

429_______________________

Notes to pages 182-184

121. A dorno (1935), cited V , p. 582 (N5, 2).

122. V , p. 582 (N5, 2).

123. “ Confession,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

124. Edmond Jalou x (1921), cited V . p. 366 (J33, 2).

125. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 671.

126. V , p. 414(J55a, 3).

127. V , p. 344 (J22, 5).

128. T h is com ment is made by Benjam in w ith reference to J22, 4 (cited below), in the “ Notes
to the Baudelaire Book,” under the keyword “ A llegory” (B ataille Archive, Bibliotheque
Nationale).

129. “ A nnotations to poems o f Baudelaire” (1937-38), I, pp. 1144-45 (again, V , p. 419

□ 57 a, 3 ]).

130. V , p. 344 (J22, 4). The poem was one o f the 23 in Fleurs du m al w ritte n by the summer o f
1843 (J38, 1). Benjam in says: “ The m orning o f Vormdrz dawns in this poem” (J22, 4).

131. Baudelaire, “ Le Crepescule du m a tin ,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

132. “ A nnotations to poems o f Baudelaire,” I, 1145.

133. Baudelaire, “ Le Crepescule du m a tin ,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

134. See H ugo, cited V , p. 364 (J32, 1); cf. Baudelaire on H ugo (1865): “ ‘One can sim ul­
taneously possess a special genius and be a fool. V ic to r H ugo proves that to us w ell— the
Ocean its e lf is tired o f h im ’ ” (cited, V , p. 338 [ J 19a, 7 ]).

135. “ Are the flowers soulless? Does that play into the title ‘The Flowers o f E vil?’ ” W ith
other words, arc flowers symbols o f the whore? O r are flowers to be banished w ith this title to
the ir true place?” (V , p. 348 [J24, 5 ]).

136. V , pp. 465-66 (J80, 1). Cf.: “ M achinery becomes in Baudelaire the sign o f destructive
powers. N ot the least o f such m achinery is the human skeleton” ( “ Zentra lpark,” I, p. 684).
T he French w ord arm ature, w hich means both human skeleton and construction scaffolding,
fuses these (cf. J71, 1).

137. V , p. 415 (J56, 3).

138. V , p. 365 (J32a, 5).

139. Charles Baudelaire, cited V , p. 365 (J32a, 5). The translation here o f Charles Baude­
laire, “ The Salon o f 1859,” is by Jonathan M ayne in A rt in P a ris: 1845-1862. Salons and Other
E xhibitions (Ithaca: C ornell U niversity Press, 1981), p. 173.

140. “ The span between emblem and advertising image lets one measure the changes that
have taken place since the seventeenth century in the w orld o f things” (V , p. 440 [J67a, 2 ]).

141. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 671.

430

Notes to pages 184-186

142. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 671.

143. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 671.

144. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 671.

145. Cf. V , p. 455 (J75, 1; also J67, 5; J67a, 1). Benjam in intended to include in his “ Baude­
laire book” a description o f the origins o f the “ labor m arket” (sec V , pp. 715-16 [U 4 , 1],
listed in the notes under the keyword “ C om m odity” in the Bataille A rchive, Bibliotheque
N ationalc, Paris).

146. See section 3 above.

147. M a rx , C ap ita l, cited V , p. 807 (X 4 , 3). Cf. M a rx ’s statement in the 1844 M anuscripts:
“ ‘P rostitution is only a specific expression o f the general prostitution o f the laborer [ . . . ] ’ ”
(cited X 2, 1).

148. Cf. “ Tearing things out o f the context o f the ir usual interconnections— w hich is the
norm w ith commodities at the stage o f their being exhibited— is a procedure very character­
istic o f Baudelaire. I t is related to the destruction o f the organic interrelations in the allegor­
ical conception” ( “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 670).

149. V , p. 422 (J59, 10).

150. V , p. 55 (1935 expose).

151. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, pp. 687-88.

152. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 687, cf. V , p. 425 (J60a, 2).

153. Baudelaire, cited V , p. 341 (J21, 2).

154. V , p. 416 (J56a, 3).

155. “ L a M use venale,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

156. “ From early on he viewed the litera ry market to ta lly w ith o u t illusions” ( “ Das Paris des
Second E m pire bei Baudelaire” [1938], I, p. 535).

157. “ I t has been estimated tha t [B audelaire] earned w ith his entire w ork no more than
15,000 francs” ( “ Das Paris des Second E m pire bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 535, cf. V , p. 386
[J42a, 3; sec also J78a, 1]).

158. “ Das Paris des Second E m pire bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 536, cf. V , p. 54 (1935 expose).

159. “ Notes sur les tableaux parisiens de Baudelaire” (1939), I, p. 746, cf. V , p. 383 (J41, 3).

160. “ L c Soleil,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

161. V , p. 437 (J66a, 6). “ A rem ark by Leiris: for Baudelaire the w ord ‘fa m ilie r ’ is fu ll o f
inystery and unrest; it stands for something for w hich it has never stood before” ( “ Z e ntra l­
pa rk,” I, p. 678)— in the poem “ Obsession” : “ fa m ilia r gazes” ; in the poem “ Bohemiens en
voyage” : “ the fa m ilia r em pire.”

162. Suffering was basic to the notion o f Baudelaire’s “ aesthetic passion” (cf. V , p. 420
[J58a, 1]).
431

Notes to pages 186-187

163. “ In allegory the original interest is not lingu istic but optic. [B audelaire:] ‘The images,
my grand, m y p rim itiv e passion.’ Question: W hen did the com m odity become prom inent in
the image o f the city? I t could be crucial to have statistical inform ation about the intrusion o f
the shop w indow w ith facades” ( “ Ze ntra lpark,” I, p. 686, cf. V , p. 302 [ J l , 6 ]). A lthough
the arcades do not appear in Baudelaire’s images, Benjam in compares the experience o f
reading a poem like “ Le Crepescule du m a tin” w ith w alking through an arcade (J88a, 2).

164. V , p. 424 (J60, 1).

165. V , p. 54 (1935 expose).

166. V , p. 723 (J59a, 4). Benjam in notes his frequent changes o f address (J29, 11).

167. Baudelaire, cited V , p. 555 ( M l 4, 3; again M l5 a , 3). In his 1939 article on Baudelaire,
Benjam in gives a striking example w ith reference to the poem “ A une passantc,” in which an
unknown woman, graceful, majestic, in a w idow ’s veil, passes the poet on the “ deafening
street” : The glance that they share before each passes by the other is, writes Benjamin,
“ love, not so much at first sight as at last [ . . . ]. W hat makes the body [o f the poet] contract
in a spasm — crispe comme un extravagant— is not the rapture o f the person in whom eros has
seized possession o f every corner o f his being; it is more the kind o f sexual shock that can
overcome a lonely m an” (“ t)b e r einige M o tive bei Baudelaire” [1939], I, p. 623).

168. “Jules R cnard wrote o f Baudelaire: ‘ “ His heart [ . . . ] more alone than an ace o f hearts
in the m iddle o f a playing card* ” (cited V , p. 440 [J67a, 5 ]).

169. V , p. 466 (J80a, 1).

170. V , p. 423 (J59a, 4).

171. V , p. 466 (J80a, 1).

172. See section 3 above.

173. Baudelaire, cited V , p. 395 (J47, 2; see also J44, 3).

174. V , p. 413 (J55, 12). The closing verse beings: “ ‘Clear emblems, perfect tableau’ ”
(cited, J70, 4).

175. “ L T rre m edia ble,” cited V , p. 446 (J70, 4).

176. V , p. 466 (J80a, 10).

177. V , p. 419 (J57a, 4).

178. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 665.

179. V , pp. 441-42 (J68, 4).

180. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 662; also V , p. 415 (J56, 5).

181. “ Les Sept V ic illa rd s ,” cited V , p. 461 (J77a, 3): “ The hero who stands his ground on
the scene o f m odernity is in fact more than anything else an actor” (ib id .).

182. Trauerspiel study, cited V , p. 409 (J53a, 4). “ ‘Laughter is satanic, and thus profoundly
hum an,’ ” Baudelaire, L ’Essence du rire , cited V , p. 409 [J53a, 3 ]).
432______________________

Notes to pages 187-189

183. V , p. 409 (J53a, 4).

184. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 680, cf. V , p. 414 (J55a, 8).

185. “ L ’H cautontim oroum enos,” cited V , p. 411 (J54a, 3).

186. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 689.

187. “ [In Baudelaire’s poem] ‘La D estruction’ on the devil: ‘I . . .sense him burning in my
lu n g s,/F illin g them w ith endless, g u ilty desire.’ T he lungs as the seat o f a wish is the most
daring transcription o f the im possibility o f its being fulfilled that one could th in k o f” (V ,
pp. 440-41 [J68, 1]).

188. “ In the erotology o f the condemned— as one m ight call that o f Baudelaire— in fe rtility
and impotence are the decisive givens. These alone are that w hich gives the cruel and discre­
dited instinctual moments in sexuality its purely negative character” (V , p. 438 [J66a, 9 ]).

189. “ Baroque detailing o f the female body. ‘Le beau navire’ ” (V , p. 415 [J56, 7 ]). O n “ the
detailing o f female beauty o f w hich Baroque poetry is so fond” : “ T h is fragm entation o f
female beauty in to its most fam e-w orthy parts is like an autopsy, and the popular com pari­
sons o f the body parts w ith alabaster, snow, jewels or other, mostly inorganic forms does it
one better. (Such fragm entation is found also in Baudelaire: ‘ Lc beau navire’ ) ” (B9, 3. The
poem praises the “ diverse beauties” o f a woman who walks like a “ splendid ship,” her
bosom ju ttin g like a prow, her skirts billo w in g like sails, and details her legs like sorcerers,
arms like pythons, neck, shoulders, head, etc.)

190. Cf. the courtesan: “ her heart bruised like a peach” (“ L ’A m ou r du mensonge” ); or the
little old women: “ debris o f hu m a n ity” ( “ Les Pctites V icille s” ).

191. “ La D estruction,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

192. V , p. 441 (J68, 2). Benjam in continues: “ The poem breaks off ab ruptly; it creates the
impression— doubly surprising for a sonnet— o f its e lf being something fragm entary” (ib id .).

193. V , p. 440 (J67a, 7; cf. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 670).

194. “ U ne M a rty rc ,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

195. V , p. 440 (J67a, 7).

196. V , p. 415 (J56, 2).

197. V , p. 413 (J55, 13).

198. “ L ’E xam in de m in u it,” cited by Benjam in as an example o f “ lived experiences that are
em ptied, robbed o f their substance” (V , p. 410 [J54, 7 ]).

199. V , p. 464 (J79, 5).

200. V , p. 440 (J67a, 5).

201. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 681.

202. V , p. 405 (J51a, 6).

203. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 681.

433

Notes to pages 189-191

204. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 689.

205. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 681. Benjam in explains: “ The capacities o f the soul as they appear
in Baudelaire are ‘souvenirs' [Andenken] o f human beings, in the way the medieval allegories
are souvenirs o f the gods. C laudel once wrote: ‘Baudelaire made his object the only inner
experience tha t was s till possible for people o f the nineteenth century: remorse.’ B ut that is
pa in ting too rosy a picture. A m ong inner experiences, remorse was no less rotted out [ausges-
torben] than the others canonized beforehand. Remorse in Baudelaire is only a souvenir, ju s t
as repentance or virtue, hope o r even anxiety [ . . . ] ” (V , pp. 407-08 [J53, 1; cf. J33, 8 ]). Cf.:
“ W hat is sold in the arcades are souvenirs” (V , p. 1037 [0°, 76 ]).

206. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, 669.

207. The “ souvenir” is the schema o f the transform ation. The correspondences are the “ end­
lessly m u ltip le resonances o f each souvenir w ith all the others” ( “ Z e ntra lpark,” 1, p. 689).

208. “ Spleen ( I I ) , ” Les Fleurs du m alt trans. mine, cf. V , p. 447 (J71, 2).

209. Here is a clear parallel to A dorno’s Kierkegaard study, w hich argues that what K ierke­
gaard intended as a metaphorical description was actually the intrusion o f reality into his
own subjective inwardness (see Buck-M orss, The O rig in o f Negative D ialectics , chapter 7).
Benjam in cites A d orno’s study (or Kierkegaard directly) in several entries, V , pp. 422-31.

210. V , p. 360 (J30, 8).

211. “ Avec ses vetements. . . ” (w ritten to Jeanne D uval), cited V , p. 411 (J54a, 5).

212. “ Je te donne ces ver s. . . ” (w ritten to Jeanne D uval) cited V , p. 416 (J56, 9).

213. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 675.

214. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I. p. 675.

215. “ T u mettrais l ’univers entier dans ta ruelle” (addressed to Jeanne D uval), cited V ,
p. 447 (J71, 1, cf. J80, 1).

216. V , p. 450 (J72a, 2).

217. “ Je t ’adore a Pegal dc la voute nocturne,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

218. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 668.

219. V , p. 437 (J66, 8; also J61a, 1).

220. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 687.

221. Cf. V , p. 427 (J61a, 1).

222. V, p. 436 (J66, 4).

223. Baudelaire, cited V , p. 369 (J34a, 3).

224. V , p. 474 (J84, 4).

225. V , p. 71 (1939 expose).

434

Notes to pages 191-194

226. “ Les Sept vieillard s,” Les Fleurs du mat, trans. mine.

227. V , p. 413 (J55, 10).

228. V , p. 417 (J56a, 10).

229. V , p. 71 (1939 expose).

230. V , p. 401 (J50, 1).

231. Cf. V , p. 370 (J35, 2).

232. V , p. 474 (J84a, 5).

233. Baudelaire, “ Perte d ’aureole,” cited in “ U ber cinige M o tive bei Baudelaire,” I,
pp. 651-52.

234. V , p. 422 (J59, 7).

235. V , p. 475 (J84a, 5).

236. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 686.

237. V , p. 429 (J62, 5).

238. V , p. 433 (J64, 4). “ T he lack o f illusory appearances (Scheinlosigkeit) and the decline o f
aura are identical phenomena. Baudelaire places the artisric means o f allegory at the ir ser­
vice” (“ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 670).

239. V , pp. 342-43 (J21a, 1; see also J58a, 3).

240. V , p. 433 (J64, 4).

241. “ Crepescule du soir,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine.

242. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 670. O n the renunciation o f the magic o f distance: “ I t found its
supreme expression in the firs t verse o f ‘L c Voyage’ ” (V , p. 417 [J56a, 12]). T h a t verse is:
“ For the small boy in love w ith maps and stam ps,/The universe equals his vast appetite!/A h,
how grand the w orld when viewed by la m p lig h t!/In the eyes o f memory, how sm all it has
become!” ( “ Le Voyage,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. m ine).

243. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 670. Also: “ W here in O v id is the place where it is said that the
human countenance was created to send out the reflection o f the stars?” (V , p. 336 [J18a,
8 ]). Baudelaire commented on this passage in O v id that, on the contrary, the hum an counte­
nance “ 'speaks (? ![W B ]) no more than an expression o f foolish ferocity’ ” (cited, J69a, 3).

244. “ L ’A m o u r du mensonge,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. mine. “ Re: the extinction o f illusory
appearance: “ L ’A m ou r du mensonge” ( “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 670). Also: “ The gaze in w hich
the magic o f distance is extinguished:
‘Plunge y o u r eyes into the fixed eyes o f Satyresses or N ym phs’ ”
( “ L ’A vertisseur,” cited V , p. 396 [J47a, 1]).

245. “ T u m ettrais l ’u n iv e rs . . . cited V , p. 447 (J70a, 9).

246. “ U b e r einige M o tive bci Baudelaire,” I, p. 649.

435

Notes to pages 194—195

247. V , p. 429 (J62a, 1).

248. V , p. 414 (J55a, 2).

249. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 658.

250. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 658.

251. V , p. 424 (J60, 6; alsoJ59a, 2; J59a, 3).

252. V , p. 306 (J3a, 4; cf. J24a, 5; J59a, 2).

253. V , p. 423 (J59a, 1; cf. J52, 6).

254. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, pp. 664-65; cf. V , p. 420 (J58, 4).

255. “ W ith the production o f mass articles, there arose the concept o f the specialty” (V , p. 93
[A 4, 2 ]).

256. V , p. 470 (J82, 6;J82a, 1).

257. Baudelaire, cited V , p. 369 (J34a, 1).

258. V , p. 71 (1939 expose).

259. V , p. 56 (1935 expose). Baudelaire had earlier rejected P art pour P art in favor o f “ useful”
art. B ut Benjam in contends: “ I t w ould be a great mistake to see the substance o f a develop­
ment in the art-theoretical positions o f Baudelaire after 1852 [ . . .] . T his art [pour fa r t] is
[s till] useful in that it is destructive. Its distu rbing fury is directed not the least against the
fetishistic concept o f a rt” (J49, 1). Consistent in Baudelaire's position throughout his life was
“ renouncing the application o f art as a category o f the to ta lity o f existence [Z)or«n]” (J 53,
2). B enjam in explains: “ A llegory sees both existence and art under the sign o f brittleness and
ruins. L ya rt pour P art erects the realm o f art outside that o f profane existence. Comm on to both
is the renunciation o f the idea o f the harmonious to ta lity in w hich a rt and profane existence
interpenetrate, as they do in the theories o f both German idealism and French eclecticism”
(J56a, 6).

260. V , p. 55 (1935 expose).

261. V , p. 55 (1935 expose).

262. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 673.

263. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 687. Cf.: “ ‘The idea o f progress. T h is gloomy beacon, invention o f
present-day philosophizing, licensed w ith o u t guarantee o f nature o r o f God— this modem
lantern throw s a stream o f darkness on all the objects o f knowledge: liberty melts away,
discipline vanishes’ ” (Baudelaire [1855], cited V , p. 397 [J48, 6; see alsoJ38a, 7 and J 38a,
8], trans by Jonathan M aync, Baudelaire, A rt in P aris , pp. 125-26).

264. Proust (1921), cited V , p. 390 (J44, 5).

265. V , p. 444 (J69a, 1). Cf. Benjam in on “ L ’H orlogc” : “ T he decisive thing about this poem
is that tim e is em pty” ( “ A nnotations to poems o f Baudelaire,” I, p. 1141).

266. “ ‘The hum an being does not live for a m o m ent/W ith out sub m itting to a w arning sig­
n a l . . . ’ ” ( “ L ’Avcrtisseur,” cited V , p. 411 [J54a, 1 ]).
436

Notes to pages 195-197

267. V , p. 423 (J59a, 4).

268. Jaloux (1921), cited V , p. 366 (J33, 4).

269. V ,p . 71 (1939 expose).

270. “ Ze ntra lpark,” I, p. 668.

271. V , p. 418 (J57, 5).

272. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 673. S im ilarly, Benjam in sees a strong s im ila rity between K ierke­
gaard’s “ aestheric passion” (concerning w hich he cites A dorno’s study) and Baudelaire’s
own. (See especially V , pp. 430-31 [J62a, 3-J62a, 4 andJ63, 1-J63, 6 ]) .

273. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 670; cf. V , p. 174 (D9, 1).

274. V , p. 414(J55a, 4).

275. V , p. 429 (J62a, 2). Benjam in compares B la n q u i’s vision o f our “ doubles” repeated in
every detail on other planets to Baudelaire’s “ Seven O ld M e n ” (J76, 3).

276. V , p. 425 (J60, 7). “ For Baudelaire it is much more an attem pt to wrest the ‘new’ from
the always-the-same w ith heroic effort” (ib id .). (F or Nietzsche’s vision o f eternal recurrence
cf. B lanqui, see J74a, 4, cf. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” 1, p. 673).

277. See above, chapter 4, section 5.

278. “ U b e r einige M orive bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 652.

279. “ Le Reniement de Saint Pierre,” Les F leur du m al, trans. mine (cited in shortened form,
V , p. 456 [J75, 2 ]).

280. V , p. 414 (J55a, 5). G ottfried K e lle r attaches this phrase to the image o f the shield o f
Medusa, w hich he sees as an image o f “ lost justice, lost happiness” ; T h is image is evoked at
the close o f Baudelaire’s “ La D estruction” (V , p. 402 [J50a, 5)). Again, Benjam in avoids
psychologistic explanations, in te rpre ting the theme o f sexual impotence in Baudelaire as
em blematic o f social impotence. S im ilarly: “ In the pose o f a recipient o f cha rity Baudelaire
tested unin terrupte dly the example set by bourgeois society. H is a rb itra rily induced ( if not
a rb itra rily sustained) dependency on his m other had not only a cause emphasized by
psychoanalysis, but a social one” (V , p. 427 [J61, 7 ]).

281. See section 3 above.

282. Trauerspiel study, cited V , p. 410 (J54, 5).

283. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 684.

284. “ Z e ntra lpark,” I, p. 682.

285. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 683.

286. V , p. 352 (J26, 2).

287. V , p. 352 (J26, 2).

288. V , p. 352 (J26, 2).

437

Notes to pages 197-206

289. V , p. 401 (J50, 2).

290. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 671.

291. Benjam in cites a verse by Verhaeren (1904): “ A nd o f w hat consequence are the evils
and demented hours/A nd vats o f vice in which the city fe rm e n ts /If someday. . . / A new
C hrist arises, sculpted in lig h t/W h o lifts hu m anity tow ard h im /A n d baptizes it by the fire o f
the stars?” Benjam in comments: “ Baudelaire knows no such perspectives. H is concept o f the
fra g ility o f the metropolis is the source o f the permanence o f the poems which he has in ­
scribed on Paris” ( “ Das Paris des Second E m pire bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 586; cf. V , p. 458
[J76, 6] ) .

292. V , p . 415 (J56, 1).

293. V , p. 417 (J57, 3; alsoJ56, 1).

294. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 660 (cf. p. 1139).

In tro d u c tio n to P a rt I I I

1. See ed. note, V , p. 1262. The entries o f “ J ” cannot be dated by the same means as the
other Konvoluts , since none o f the “ Baudelaire” m aterial was photocopied (whereas only the
post-December, 1937, m aterial o f the other Konvoluts remained uncopied.) The editor gives
no explanation for this singular status o f Konvolut “ J . ” One can presume, however, that the
real burgeoning o f this file did not occur u n til the m id-thirtie s when Benjam in conceived o f a
separate Baudelaire “ book.”

2. Letter, B enjam in to H orkheim er, 16 A p ril 1938, V , p. 1164. Benjam in wrote that he had
“ foreseen” this relationship to the Passagen-Werk as a “ tendency” in the Baudelaire study
d u ring his discussions w ith “ Teddie” (A dorno) du rin g the ir visit together in San Remo,
December 1937-January 1938.

3. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 10 Novem ber 1938, I, p. 1096. Adorno tried to excuse Ben­
ja m in by suggesting that he, m isreading the position o f the Institute, had applied M a rxist
categories in an unmediated way “ in order to pay trib u te to M a rx ism ” (ibid .).

4. The discovery was announced in spring 1982—ju s t before the appearance o f the Passage?i-
Werk as V olum e V o f B enjam in’s Gesammelte Schriften — by Agamben, editor o f the Ita lia n
edition o f B enjam in’s works. See G iorgio Agamben, “ U n im portante ritrovam ento d i man-
oscritti d i W alter B enjam in,” A u t . . . A u t. . . (189/90 [19 82]), pp. 4—6.

5. Benjam in proceeded as follows: He first read through the entire Passagen-Werk m aterial,
m arking in a sign and color code (see note no. 7) any entries tha t m ight prove relevant to
“ Baudelaire.” He then listed these entries under the code ideas or categories, adding short
notations as to the ir meaning w ith in these p a rtic u la r contexts. T h a t their meanings were not
fixed is demonstrated by the fact that several entries appear under more than one code
concept.

6. A lthou gh this second essay’s historical m aterial is also drawn from the Passagen-Werk,
interestingly, much o f w hat was new in this second version, n otably the theoretical references
to Freud and Bergson, as w ell as D ilthey, Krauss, V alery, and Proust, is not found anywhere
in the Passagen-Werk. (The texts o f Freud, “ Beyond the Pleasure P rinciple,” and Bergson,
“ M a tte r and M e m o ry,” had been noted by Benjam in as crucial “ points o f support” for “ the
dialectical illu m in a tio n o f K a fk a ,” on w hich Benjam in was w orking simultaneously in the
438

Notes to pages 206-208

late 1930s as a possible means o f support should he im m igrate to Israel after all [see I I ,
p. 1255]).

7. O n this folder, Agabem first penned the misleading title “ Fiches et notes pour le
‘Passagen-Werk’ (1983-40).” Tiedem ann has since added, ju s tifia b ly , ‘ ‘E t pour ‘Charles
Baudelaire. E in L y rik e r im Z e ita lte r des H ochkapitalism us.’ ” Agabem ’s o rig inal claim that
these notes made the published version o f the Passagen-Werk obsolete even before it appeared,
is sim ply unfounded. W hat is clarified by the find are the mysterious “ color signs” that
Benjam in drew next to various Passagen-Werk entries (described by Tiedem ann, V , pp. 1264—
77). The archive m aterial contains the key to these color signs as the code for the Baudelaire
book, and indicates under w hat headings the color coded entries were to be assembled.

8. M ichael Espagne and M ichael W erner, “ V om Passagen-Projekt zum ‘Baudelaire’ : Neue

H andschriften zum Spatwerk W alter B enjam in,” Deutsche V ierteljahresschrift fu r L ite ra tu rw is-
senschaft und Geistesgeschichte (4 [19 8 4 ]): 593-657. As far as I have been able to verify from m y
own perusal o f the find, the ir reporting is excellent and exact; my disagreements are, rather
w ith their interpretation, as w ill become clear below.

9. Espagne and Werner, p. 648.

10. T h e ir one suggestion as to “ a possible cause o f the failure: the dialectical image” (ibid .,
p. 622), w ill be discussed in section 2 below.

11. “ For Benjam in, realization o f the Passagen-Werk project as intended, as a philosophical
sum mation o f the ‘U r-h is to ry o f the 19th C entury,’ was [after 1936/37] pushed ever further
in to the future because o f his jo u rn a lis tic w ritin g w hich was a financial necessity [jo u m a lis ti-
sche B rotarbeit], and so the plan o f a Baudelaire book really represented an attem pt to nail
down safely the most essential thoughts and material o f the Arcades project in the form o f a
‘m iniature m odel,’ in view o f the increasing darkness o f the historical situation and the
related threat to B enjam in’s naked surviva l” (Espagne and W erner, p. 596). Between the
lines o f their account (and ex p lic itly on p. 598), the authors raise up the fa m ilia r specter o f
the Institute for Social Research as the c u lp rit, im plyin g that the In stitu te forced Benjam in
to w rite the Baudelaire essay when his true interests lay elsewhere.

12. Espagne and W em cr m aintain: “ The separation o f the m aterial o f the P arra^n-project
from the Baudelaire texts (and from the Theses [on H is to ry ]) is today d ifficu lt to ju s tify ”
(ibid., p. 597). T ru e enough. B ut not only could one say the same o f all B enjam in’s w riting s
in the 1927-40 period. As our discussion o f allegory in chapter 6 has ju s t indicated, the
Passagen-Werk can also not be “ separated” from his earlier study on German Trauerspiel. N or
can B enjam in’s Baudelaire “ book” be severed from the even earlier translations that Ben­
ja m in made o f this poet’s “ Tableaux Parisiens” and other parts o f the Fleurs du m al ( I I I ,
pp. 7-8 2 ). Benjam in was com pulsively, obsessively loyal to his philosophical ideas, a fact
that gives his w ork as a whole, however fragm entary the parts, its extraordinary intensity o f
focus.

13. Letter, B enjam in to Pollock, 28 A ugust 1938, I, p. 1086.

14. In their article, Espagne and W erner ignore this letter w ith its evidence counter to the ir
thesis. They have generally not paid sufficient attention to the already published letters
found in the ed itorial notes to the six-volume Gesammelte Schriften.

15. Letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 28 September 1938, V , p. 1167. Cf. his w ord ing in a
letter to A dorno the follow ing week: “ Decisive, as I form ulated it [to H orkh eim e r], is the fact
that a Baudelaire essay that did not deny its responsibility to the problem atic o f the Passages
could be w ritte n only as pa rt o f a Baudelaire book” (letter, Benjam in to A dorno, 4 O ctober
1938, V , p. 1168).
439

Notes to pages 208-209

16. T h is is a fu lly plausible interpretation o f the fact (stated by Espagne and W erner in order
to prove their opposing position) that in the revised, 1939 expose, “ a ll new initiatives in
conceptualization [ . . . ] are derived from the theoretical results o f w ork on Baudelaire”
(Espagne and W erner, p. 601).

17. T h is assumption makes it possible to explain certain changes in form at in the 1939
expose. The “ chapters” have been reduced to six, w ith the elim ination o f the original chapter
I I , “ Daguerre o r the Panorama” (see below, note 18). The rem aining five chapters are given
letters ( A - E ) , w hile roman numerals reappear as subsections o f the chapters, each o f which
is divided into three parts (a procedure that necessitated the rearrangement o f whole para­
graphs o f the text). T his change m igh t be dismissed as insignificant, but for the fact that
in the case o f chapter “ D ,” “ Baudelaire or the Streets o f Paris,” the material, “ radically
redesigned” from the 1935 expose (V , p. 1171), appears in such a way that the three new
subsections correspond in tendency i f not to ta lly in substance, to the three “ parts” o f the
Baudelaire “ book” designated w ith the same roman numerals. T h a t is, the notes desig-
ted as Parts I, I I , and I I I o f the latter that were discovered in the Bataille Archive are,
as “ moments” o f a dialectical presentation, in direct parallel to the the sim ilarly designated
parts o f the 1939 abstract o f the fourth “ chapter” o f the Passagen-Werk: I) the allegorical
mode o f expression in Baudelaire’s poetry; I I ) the urban phantasmagoria and the socioeco­
nom ic context o f mass litera ry productions as these reflect in his works; I I I ) allegory as an
expression o f social reality, under the M a rxia n sign o f the com m odity form.

18. In a sense, this is w hat already had happened to one o f the “ chapters,” “ Daguerre or the
Panorama,” w hich was “ dropped” in the 1939 expose “ because its essential parts are for the
most p a rt covered by considerations that are present in French translation in the A rtw o rk
essay” (letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 13 M arch 1939, V , p. 1171).

19. Letter, Benjam in to Horkheim er, 28 September 1939, upon com pleting the first Baude­
laire essay (V , p. 1168). A separate article on Haussmann had been contemplated since 1934
for the French C om m unist jo u rn a l Monde (V , p. 1098).

20. Benjam in, letter to H orkheim er, 28 September 1939, W alter Benjam in, B riefe, eds. Ger-
shom Scholcm and Theodor W . Adorno, 2 vols. (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkamp Verlag,
1978), vol. 2, p. 774.

21. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 4 O ctober 1938, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 778.

22. A ll quotations from letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 28 September 1938, B riefe , vol. 2,
pp. 774-75.

23. “ Z e n tra lp a rk ” (1938-39), I, p. 677.

24. See above, chapter 6, section 4.

25. Letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 28 September 1938, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 774.

26. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 4 October 1938, V , p. 1168.

27. M y decision to discuss these B lanqui texts in chapter 4 in the context o f the theme o f the
Nineteenth C entury as H ell which dominates in the early notes, w ill not please those who see
the B lanqu i m aterial as an indication that Benjam in had very much changed his own posi­
tion in the late 1930s. B lanqu i’s cosmology was not a new orientation, but a confirm ation o f
B enjam in’s earlier argument.

28. Letter, Benjam in to H orkheim er, 13 M a rch 1959, V , p. 1171. The historical figure o f
Louis P hilippe— the “ bourgeois king” — was never prom inent in the Passagen W erk. His
440

Notes to pages 209-215

name provides no Konvolut title; he is not referred to in the entries in any conceptually cohe­
rent way. He seems merely to represent the historical era o f pre-1848 w hich was the tim e o f
the “ bloom ing o f the arcades” (V , p. 1216 [1935 expose note no. 10]).

29. The “ now -tim e” o f the dialectical image was “ on the one hand the concluding p o in t” o f
the Passagen-Werk as “ a continuous phenomenology o f the com m odity form , and on the other,
a petrified process, the exploding o f c o n tin u ity ” : “ The discontinuity im plied by the dialecti­
cal image imperils this structure [o f the text], even as it is supposed to function as its final
b u ild in g block. The suggested theory o f im proved nature provides, rather, a halfway utopian
alternative to com m odity fetishism” (Espagne and W erner, pp. 622-23). The authors claim
tha t in the Baudelaire “ book” these tw o poles are held in “ a tentative and tem porary state o f
e q u ilib riu m ” that “ possesses the character o f a certain self-negation” (ibid ., p. 624).

30. Sec above, chapter I, section 4.

31. I t w ill be considered at length below in chapter 7.

32. He called it “ dialectics at a sta n d still” (V , p. 577 [N2a, 3] ) . See below, chapter 7, sect­
ion 2.

33. V , p. 1011 (G°, 19). In this w orld , the old (the tim e o f H ell), repeats itse lf in the new, but
this repetition is one o f “ stric t d is c o n tin u ity ” : “ the always-again-new is not the old that
remains, nor the past that returns, but the one and the same crossed by countless in te rm it-
tences” (ibid .).

34. He wrote to Scholem that the “ inner construction” o f the Passagen “ book” was analogous
to the Trauerspiel study, in that “ here as well the unfolding o f a tra ditiona l concept w ill stand
at the m idpoint. I f there it was the concept o f Trauerspiel, here it is the fetish character o f the
com m odity” (letter, 20 M a y 1935, V , p. 1112).

35. The idea o f the “ trace,” mentioned in the early notes (V , p. 1048 [c°, 1]), is developed in
Konvolut I ( “ das Interieu r, S pur” ).

36. T he figure o f the ragpicker ( chiffonnier) w hich appears in the Passagen-Werk is treated as a
key to B enjam in’s method in Irv in g W ohlfa rth, “ The H istorian as C hiffonnier,” New German
C ritique , 39 (fall 1986), pp. 142-68.

37. Gershom Scholem, W alter B enjam in: The Stoiy o f a Friendship (London: Faber & Faber,
1981), p. 197.

38. “ Der B e g riffd e r K u n s tk ritik in der deutschen R om antik,” I, p. 41 (ita l. B enjam in’s).

39. See, however, the paralipomena for the K a rl Kraus essay, where keywords are arranged in a
rudim entary coordinate schema ( I I , p. 1090). Benjamin refers to his own work pattern as ap­
proaching “ the center in concentric circles” in a letter to Adorno, 10 June 1935 (V , p. 1121).

40. I, p. 1177.

41. These included not only concentric circles (see the “ further schemata” for the Krauss
essay, I I , p. 1092) but, as w ith a series o f the Baudelaire “ book” notes, isolated, abbreviated
idea clusters that are circled w ith o u t relation to others in the page (see Envelope 5, Benjam in
papers, B ataille A rchive, B ibliotheque Nationale, Paris).

42. They cite parts o f the fou rth paragraph o f this note. See Espagne and W erner, p. 605.

43. Note, Envelope 5, Benjam in Papers, B ataille A rchive, Bibliotheque N ationale, Paris.
441

Notes to pages 216-218

7 Is T h is P h ilo s o p h y ?

1. V , p. 575 (N2, 4).

2. Letter, A dorno to Benjamin, 20 M a y 1935, Envelope 5, Benjam in Papers, Georges Bataille

A rchive, B ibliotheque Nationalc, Paris.

3. The influence o f Brecht, “ w ithou t meaning thereby to be prejudiced” against him , “ must
stop here, precisely here” (letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 20 M a y 1935).

4. The possibility “ that the work, ju s t as it is really conceived, w ould be accepted by the
In stitu te I consider as unlikely as it would please me i f I were mistaken” (letter, A dorno to
Benjam in, 20 M a y 1935).

5. The M a rx is t concepts o f both Brecht and the In s titu te were in A dorno’s opinion “ too
abstract,” and functioned “ like dei ex machine” in their analyses (letter, A dorno to Benjam in,
20 M a y 1935). A dorno, who him self did not become a fu ll member o f the Institute u n til 1938,
cautioned that “ for us,” thin kin g must proceed “ as a consequence o f our own categories” ; he
urged Benjam in “ to w rite the Passages true to your own “ U r-h is to ry,” for in that way: “ I t is
m y deepest conviction that the work w ould hold up best precisely as a M a rxist one [ . . . ] ”
(ib id .).

6. Letter, K a rp lu s to Benjam in, 28 M ay 1935, V , p. 1115. K arplus, who had been Ben­
ja m in ’s close friend since the twenties in B erlin, had participated w ith Adorno, H orkheim cr,
and Lacis in the K onigstcin conversations o f 1929, du ring w hich Benjam in had read from his
first notes for the Passagen-Werk. In 1935 she was spending considerable time w ith Adorno,
whom she m arried in 1937.

7. See B enjam in’s reply to Adorno 31 M a y 1935, V , pp. 1116-19.

8. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 20 M a y 1935, V , p. 1112.

9. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 31 M a y 1935, V , p. 1118.

10. T h is Konvolut includes notes that were form ulated in the project’s first stage (see especial­
ly the 0° series o f the early notes), giving evidence o f a co n tin u ity w ith in Benjam in’s method
from the project’s inception to his last text, the Theses on H is to ry (“ Tiber den BegrifT der
Gcschichte,” 1940).

11. V , p. 575 (N2, 6).

12. V , p. 574 (N la . 8).

13. V , p. 578 (N3, 2).

14. V , p. 579 (N3a, 1; again in the Theses on H istory).

15. V , p. 578 (N3, 4; again in the Theses on H isto ry).

16. V . p. 594 (N10, 4).

17. See V , p. 591 (N9, 4).

18. “ Engels says [ . . . : ] ‘ I t should not be forgotten that law does not have its own history any
more than does religion.’ W hat applies to both o f these applies first really in a decisive way to
442

Notes to pages 218-219

cultu re” (V , p. 583 [N 5, 4 ]). A gain: “ ‘There is no history o f politics, law, knowledge, etc., o f
art, religion, etc.’ ” (M a rx , cited V , p. 584 [N5a, 3 ]). See also N6a, 1 (th at cites Engels to the
same effect, who in tu rn is cited in the Fuchs essay, I I , p. 467) and N7a, 2 (th at can be read
as a criticism o f M a rx and Engels): “ [ . . . ] a homogeneous history of, say, economics, exists
as little as does one o f literature or jurisprudence [ . . . ] a con tinuity o f historical presentation
is unattainable.”

19. Follow ing K a rl Korsch, Benjam in rejected the reduction o f M a rxism to a ‘“ universal
theory’ ” ; it provided instead “ to ta lly undogm atic guidelines for research and practice’ ”
(Korsch, cited V , p. 607 [N17a and N 1 7 ]).

20. Letter, Benjam in to K arp lu s, 16 August 1935, V , p. 1139.

21. T his was its “ really problem atic component: [ . . . ] to prove the m aterialist presentation
o f history imagistic in a higher sense than the presentation that has been handed down to us”
(V , p. 578 [N 3, 3 ]).

22. The “ theory” o f the w ork was “ most tig h tly linked to that o f montage” (V , p. 572 [ N l,
10]).

23. Benjam in said that he was in fact brin ging Goethe’s concept o f ur-phenom cna “ out o f the
pagan connection w ith nature and in to the Judaic connection w ith histo ry” (V , p. 577 [N 2a
4 ] ). Like Goethe’s UrpJlajLze, w hile these originary phenomena could exist alongside those
that came later, they had all the characteristics that develop in the later forms. (See above,
chapter 3, section 2).

24. “ I t can be considered one o f the methodological objects o f the w ork to demonstrate a
historical m aterialism that has annihilated from w ith in its e lf the idea o f progress” (V , p. 574
[N 2, 2 ]).

25. V , p. 587 (N7, 7).

26. V , p. 587 (N7, 6).

27. “ The destructive or critic a l m om ent in the m aterialist w ritin g o f history comes in to play
in that blasting apart o f historical con tin u ity w ith w hich, first and foremost, the historical
object constitutes its e lf” (V , p. 594 [N lO a, 1]).

28. V, p. 594 (N10, 3).

29. V , p. 578 (N3, 2).

30. “ The present determines where w ith in the past object its fore- [For-] history and its after-
[Nach-] history separate from one another in order to enframe its nucleus” (V , p. 596 [ N i l ,
5 ] )-

31. V , p. 587 (N7a, 1).

32. V , p. 594 (N10, 3).

33. “ Thus we always perceive past events ‘ too late’ and ‘po litics’ needs the ‘presence o f m in d ’
to ‘foresee’ the present” (Benjam in, citin g T u rgo t, V , p. 598 [N12a, 1 ]).

34. V , p. 574 (N2, 2).

35. V , pp. 591-92 (N9, 7; cf. Q°, 21 and Q°, 23).

443

Notes to pages 219-223

36. V , p. 577 (N2a, 3).

37. V , p. 570 ( N l, 1; also N9, 7).

38. V , p. 587 (N3, 1; cf. P°, 4).

39. V , p. 595 (N lOa, 3).

40. V , pp. 595-96 ( N i l , 4).

41. V, pp. 602-03 (N15, 1).

42. V , p. 571 ( N l, 4).

43. V , pp. 570-71 ( N l, 4).

44. A dorno, “ Zu Benjamins Gedachtnis,” Ober W alter Benjam in, ed. R olfT icd em a nn (Frank­
fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1970), p. 15.

45. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 31 M a y 1935, V , p. 1117.

46. Cf. the 1935 expose: “ The com m odity presents such an image pure and simple: as fetish.
Such an image is presented by the arcades, w hich are both house and street. The prostitute,
too, presents such an image, salesgirl and com m odity in one” (V , p. 55).

47. V , p. 574 (N la , 8).

48. T h is was his argument as early as his dissertation, “ D er B egriff der K unst in der deut-
schen R om a ntik,” I, pp. 7-122.

49. Sec his criticism ofB en n, Celine, and Jung, V , p. 590 (N8a, 1; cf. K7a, 2).

50. Benjam in “ did not respect the boundary between lite ra ry w riters and philosophers”
(A dorno, Uber W alter Benjam in, p. 16).

51. “ In T a rt pour T a rt the poet for the first tim e confronts language the way the consumer does
the com m odity on the open m arket” ( “ Taste,” w ritte n for the first Baudelaire essay, I,
p. 1167).

52. “ Taste,” I, p. 1169. We may assume that B enjam in’s criticism o f the theme o f “ absence”
in certain schools o f contemporary thought w ould be the same.

53. Baudelaire’s poem is a vision o f “ water, steel slate/staircascs and arcades” in a frozen
landscape in w hich all o f nature’s a ctivity has stopped:

A n d heavy cataracts,
Like crystal curtains,
H ung suspended, dazzling,
O n walls o f metal.
( “ Reve parisien,” Les Fleurs du m al, trans. m ine).

54. Hans Robert Jauss, Tow ard an Aesthetic o f Reception, trans. T im o th y B ahti, intro. Paul de
M a n , Theory and H istory o f Literature vol 2, eds. W lad Godzich and Jochen Schulte-Sasse
(M inneapolis: U n iversity o f M innesota Press, 1982), p. 172.

55. Jauss, p. 173.

444

Notes to pages 224-227

56. Jauss, p. 179.

57. Jauss, p. 179.

58. B enjam in’s p o litica l criticism o f every cultu ral “ continuum ” is considered at length in
chapter 9 below.

59. Paul de M an, Blindness and In s ig h t: Essays in the Rhetoric o f Contemporary C riticism , second
cd., rev., intro. W lad Godzich, Theory and H istory o f L iterature vol. 7, eds. W lad Godzich and
Jochen Schultc-Sasse (M inneapolis: U n ive rsity o f Minnesota Press, 1983), pp. 182-83.

60. De M an, p. 183. ( I t does not occur to de M a n to po in t out that this p a rticu la r allegory o f
father-to-son transmission expresses the fact that w ith in the university institu tions o f this
society, culture has been inherited tra d itio n a lly along pa rtriarchal lines o f descent.)

61. De M an, p. 174. In contrast, for de M an, there is no litera ry history outside o f litera ry
interpretation. W hile he insists upon the “ m a te ria lity ” o f the object, it is a m a te ria lity that is
represented, never present. For him “ the bases for historical knowledge are not em pirical
facts but w ritte n texts, even i f these texts masquerade in the guise o f wars or revolutions”
(ibid ., p. 165). Because there is no cognitive point o f reference outside o f texts, all knowledge
is intratcxtua l. M oreover, the no niden tity between sign and meaning has always been there;
allegory, a demystifying lite ra ry form , merely brings this nonidentity to conscious expression
(ibid ., p. 27). Thus, w hile criticizin g Jauss’ historical “ continuum ” as a lite ra ry invention, de
M a n does not criticize litera ry inventions.

62. Peter Burger, Theory o f the Avant-G arde, trans. M ichael Shaw, foreword by Jochen Schulte-
Sasse, Theory and H istory o f Literature vol. 4, eds. W lad Godzich and Jochen Schultc-Sasse
(M inneapolis: U niversity o f M innesota Press, 1984), p. 68.

63. ‘“ In the field o f allegorical intention, the image is a fragment, a ru ne. . .T h e false
appearance o f to ta lity is extinguished’ ” (Benjam in, cited in Burger, p. 69).

64. Burger, p. 69.

65. Burger, p. 72.

66. Burger, p. 78.

67. Burger, pp. 90-91.

68. Burger, p. 90.

69. Burger, p. 90.

70. “ The historical avant-garde movements were unable to destroy art as an in stitu tio n ; but
they did destroy the possibility that a given school can present itself w ith the claim to univer­
sal v a lid ity ” (Burger, p. 87).

71. Burger, p. 88.

72. Burger, p. 92.

73. We are referring to the Passagen-Werk here. In contrast, B enjam in’s earlier w ork, One Way
Street, was clearly an avant-garde, aesthetic work.

74. Burger, p. 84.

445

Notes to pages 227-230

75. Burger, p. 66.

76. “ As I feel generally, then, about our theoretical disagreement, it is not really something
going on between us, but, rather, it is m y task to hold your arm steady u n til the sun o f Brecht
has once more sunk into exotic waters” (letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 18 M arch 1936, I,
p. 1006).

77. I, p. 1096. A d orno’s position was that such an “ extinction o f the subject” was sim ply the
m im etic replication in philosophy o f the subject’s real powerlessness w ith in modem mass
society.

78. V , p. 1250 (expose note no. 23).

79. See chapter 6 above.

80. I am aware that much is rid in g on my interpretation o f the word “ treulos” in the Trailers-
p ie l study (see the passage: the “ in te ntion” o f the allegoricists, in their interpretation o f the
image o f Golgatha, “ ultim ately does not persist fa ith fu lly [tre u ] in contem plation o f the
bones, but instead treacherously [treulos] leaps over into Resurrection” [ I, p. 40 6]), and that
earlier interpreters have taken Benjam in to be establishing an ironic distance between this
w ord and his own judgm ent. B ut I find it inconceivable that Benjam in should actually affirm
the C hristian idea o f bodily crucifixion and s piritu al resurrection, as it is so foreign in con­
ception precisely to the “ theological” elements o f his thinking.
In his letter to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, urging him to “ restore theology” to his concep­
tio n (V , p. 1130), Adorno referred to “ the fetish as the faithless [treulos] final image for the
nineteenth century, comparable only to the death’s head.” He seems to have understood that
com modified nature its e lf was “ faithless.” Benjam in commented in the m argin: “ H ow does
this meaning stand in regard to exchange value?” (see original o f this letter in the Bataille
A rchive, B ibliotheque Nationale, Paris). H is answer to this question is his interpretation o f
Baudelairean allegory (see chapter 6). C ritic iz in g Baudelaire for his in a b ility to transcend
the m elancholy contem plation o f the allegoricist, B enjam in’s own notion o f transcendence
was p o litica l (to “ smash” the mechanism that endlessly rearranged the fragments o f the
m aterial w orld in its given state), not spiritu al (“ faithlessly” to abandon the m aterial w orld
altogether). Compare in this connection Benjam in’s praise o f Proust: “ W ith a passion known
by no poet before him , he made his concern the faithfulness to things [die Treuezu den D ingen]
that have crossed ou r lives. Faithfulness to an afternoon, a tree, a spot o f sun on the carpet,
faithfulness to robes, furniture, perfumes or landscapes” (V , p. 679 [S2, 3 ]).

81. Gershom Scholem, W alter B enjam in: The Story o f a Friendship eds. K aren Ready and Gary
S m ith (London: Faber & Faber L td ., 1982), p. 125.

82. Scholem, W alter Benjam in, p. 125.

83. Scholem, W alter Benjam in, p. 125.

84. Scholem, W alter Benjam in, p. 125.

85. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 217.

86. I, p. 217.

87. I, p. 217.

88. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 31 M a y 1935, V , p. 1117 (cited above, section 3).

89. Scholem, W alter Benjam in, p. 38.

446

Notes to pages 230-232

90. “ I thin k one can say w ithou t disrespect that hardly ever had there been a Jewish theology
o f such vacuity and insignificance as existed in the decades before W o rld W ar I
[. . . .‘O Jrthodox theology has suffered from w hat m igh t be called K abbalah-phobia’ ” (Ger-
shom Scholem, The M essianic Idea in Judaism , and Other Essays in Jew ish S p iritu a lity [N ew Y ork:
Schocken Books, 1971], p. 321).

91. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 1.

92. The Theses on H is to ry demonstrate this clearly, as does this note in preparation for the ir
w ritin g : “ In the concept o f the classless society, M a rx secularized the concept o f the Mes­
sianic Age. A nd that was as it should be” (I, p. 1231). T his quotation is discussed in section
9 below.

93. For an excellent discussion o f B enjam in’s connection to an ticapitalist Mcssianism as the
“ new Jewish sensibility” o f the generation o f 1914, see Anson Rabinbach, “ Between E n lig h t­
enment and Apocalypse: Benjam in, Bloch and M odern German Jewish M essianism ,” New
German C ritique , w in te r 34 (1985): 78-124. See also the laudable w ork o f M ichael Lowy.
Note that w ith in this tra d itio n Messianism had C hristian as well as Jewish adherents.
Leo Lowenthal w rites that in the early 1920s Benjam in shared his own interest in Franz von
Baader, a conservative C atholic philosopher, “ whose religious philosophy o f redemptive
mysticism and solidarity w ith society’s lowest classes is evident in Benjamin’s Theses on the
P hilosophy o f H isto ry (see Leo Low enthal, “ The In te g rity o f the Intellectual: In M e m ory o f
W alter B enjam in,” trans. D avid J. W ard, in The Philosophical Forum , special issue on W alter
Benjam in, ed. G ary Sm ith, vol. X V , nos 1-2 (fa ll-w inter 1983-84): 148.

94. “ They draw upon everything: not ju s t texts w hich manifestly deal w ith the Last Days,
but a great deal else, and the more the better. The more colorful and the more complete the
picture, the greater the possibility o f creating a dram atic montage o f the in d ivid u a l stages o f
the redemption and the plenitude o f its content” (Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 32).

95. Gershom G. Scholem, M a jo r Trends in Jew ish M ysticism [firs t published in 1941] (New
Y ork: Schocken Books, 1946), p. 10.

96. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 8.

97. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 13.

98. “ ‘ [ . . . ] there is no sphere o f existence including organic and inorganic nature, tha t is not
fu ll o f holy sparks w hich are mixed up w ith the K e lip o th [low er realms] and need to be
separated from them and lifted up ’ ” (Isaac L u ria , cited in Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 280).

99. V , p. 588 (N7a, 7).

100. O n the C hristia n K abbalah, see Gershom Scholem, Kabbalah (New Y ork: Q uadrangle,
1974), pp. 196-200.

101. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 358.

102. M arxists have attempted to excuse the undeniable theological term inology in certain o f
B enjam in’s w riting s by dismissing i t as metaphor; they blame the editors o f B enjam in’s w ork
for underemphasizing the significance o f the M a rxian/B re chtian motifs in comparison (see,
c.g., H ildegaard Brenner, “ Die Lesbarkeit der B ilder. Skizzen zum Passagenentwurf,”
A lternative 59/60 [1968], pp. 48ff).
O n the other side o f the fence, Scholem considered that Benjam in’s efforts to fuse theo­
logical metaphysics and M a rxism made him “ not the last, but perhaps the most incom pre­
hensible v ic tim o f the confusion between religion and politics [ . . . ] ” (letter, Scholem to
447

Notes to pages 232-235

Benjam in, 30 M a rch 1931, W alter Benjam in, B riefe, 2 vols., eds. Gershom Scholem and
Theodor W . A dorno [F ra n kfu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p V erlag, 1978]), vol. 2, p. 529).

103. Gershom Scholem, From B e rlin to Jerusalem : Memories o f M y Youth, trans. H a rry Zohn
(New Y ork: Schocken Books, 1980), pp. 128-29.

104.1 am relying solely on Scholem here. W hile aware that his interpretation o f the K abbalah
has not gone unchallenged, it was the one that influenced Benjam in most significantly. A ll
spellings o f K abb alist terms are Scholem’s.

105. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 14.

106. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 67.

107. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 68.

108. “ ‘T h e T o rah as it now exists (or as it is now observed) w ill not exist in the Messianic
Age” ’ (Cardozo [1668], cited in Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 65). Cf.: “ s[ . . . ] everyone
who wants to serve God as he does now (i.e., by the tra ditiona l way o f life) w ill in those days
(o f the Messiah) be called a dcsecrator o f the Sabbath and a destroyer o f the plantings (i.e., a
do w n righ t heretic)’ ” (Iggeret Magen A braham [1668], cited in ibid., p. 72). Parenthetical
comments, Scholem’s.

109. See Gershom Scholem, “ Redemption through S in,” The M essianic Idea , pp. 78-141.

110. Jewish scholars had traced a direct, gradual progression from the rationalist orientation
o f medieval R abbinic thought through the E nlightenm ent to the positivistic rationalism o f
the present day; at the same tim e they took the revolutionary sting out o f the Messianic idea,
brin ging it into line w ith the bourgeois progressive doctrine o f history (see Scholem, The
M essianic Idea , pp. 24—33).

111. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, pp. 319-20.

112. “ [ . . . ] the renewal o f the w orld is sim ply more than its restoration” (Scholem, The
M essianic Idea, p. 14).

113. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 87.

114. “ ‘ In tha t age there w ill be neither famine nor war, nor envy nor strife, for there w ill be
an abundance o f w o rld ly goods’ ” (M aim onides [tw elfth century], cited in Scholem, M a jo r
Trends, p. 29).

115. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 71.

116. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 10. Indeed, not progress but catastrophe anticipates
redem ption, w hich is “ an intrusion in w hich history its e lf perishes” (ibid .).

117. “ T o know the stages o f the creative process is also to know the stages o f one’s own return
to the root o f all existence” (Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 20). T h is knowledge, w hile esoteric, is
not e litist in the sense o f being comprehensible only to scholars or philosophers. T o cite
Scholem: “ I t m ust be kept in m ind that in the sense in w hich it is understood by the K abb al­
ist him se lf [rir.], mystical knowledge is not his private affair w hich has been revealed to him ,
and to h im only, in his personal experience. O n the contrary, the purer and more nearly
perfect it is, the nearer it is to the orig inal stock o f knowledge common to m ankind [ric .]”
(ib id ., p. 21).
448

Notes to pages 235-238

118. Gershom Scholem, Kabbalah, pp. 152-53.

119. T h roughout its history, K abbalism manifests “ an almost exaggerated consciousness o f

God’s otherness” (Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 55).

120. Scholem, Kabbalah , p. 147.

121. Scholem, Kabbalah , p. 88.

122. “ The identification o f evil w ith physical m atter, though it occurs occasionally in the
Zohar and in other kabbalistic books, never became an accepted doctrine o f either.
[ . . . T ]h e m ajor interest was rather the question o f how the D ivine was reflected in m a tter”
(Scholem, Kabbalah , p. 125).

123. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 46.

124. Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 13.

125. K a f ha-Ketoret (sixteenth century), cited in Scholem, The M essianic Idea , p. 42.

126. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 26.

127. “ The thing w hich becomes a symbol retains its original form and its orig inal content. I t
does not become, so to speak, an em pty shell in to w hich another content is poured; in itself,
through its own existence, it makes another reality transparent w hich cannot appear in any
other form ” (Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 27).

128. Cf. I, p. 340.

129. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, pp. 27-28.

130. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 28.

131. Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 28.

132. Letter, Benjam in to L u d w ig Strauss, 10 O ctober 1912, cited in Rabinbach, “ Between

E nlightenm ent and Apocalypse,” p. 96.

133. Benjam in was, o f course, a “ M a rx is t heretic” as well (sec Rabinbach, “ Between E n­

lightenm ent and Apocalypse,” p. 122).

134.. Scholem, K abbalah , p. 266.

135. Letter, Scholem to Benjam in, 30 M a rch 1931, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 525.

136. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 14 February 1929, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 489. Scholem’s recol­
lections provide us w ith some conception as to w hat specifically Benjam in knew about the
K abbalah. T h e ir talks in the early years o f Scholem’s scholarship (before he im m igrated to
Palestine) have already been mentioned. Subsequently, d u ring Scholem’s visit to Paris in
1927, Benjam in (who was ju s t beginning the Arcades project) “ was the first person I told
about a very surprising discovery I had made: Sabbadan theology— tha t is, a Messianic
andnom ianism that had developed w ith in Judaism in s trictly Jewish concepts” (Scholem,
W alter Benjam in , p. 136.
In 1932 Benjam in requested and received from Scholem a copy o f the la tte r’s lengthy
article on the K abbalah w hich was published tha t year in the Encyclopedia Judaica , vol. 9,
pp. 630-732 (ib id ., p. 181). He p a rtic u la rly liked the part on the dialectic o f the K abb alist
Isaac L u ria (who in turn influenced Sabbatai Zevi) and. sending Scholem in exchange a
449

Notes to pages 238-239

copy o f his own “ H istory o f Bolshevism,” he wrote the dedication: “ From L u n a to L e n in !”

(ib id ., p 192).

137. “ I f my interest is already totally incom petent and helpless, then it is still an interest in
yo u r works, not any general one” (letter. Benjam in to Scholem, 29 M a y 1926, B riefe , vol. 1,
p. 428).

138. Letter, Benjam in to Scholcm, 15 January 1933, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 561.

139. See the discussion in W infried Menninghaus, W alter Benjam ins Theorie der Sprachmagie
(F ra n kfu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1980), pp. 91 -92 and passim.

140. For the succession o f the ten Sefiroth, see Scholem, M a jo r Trends, p. 213.

141. See below, chapter 8, section 1.

142. T h e novel is discussed in “ der Siirrealism us” (1929), I I , pp. 295-310.

143. Trauerspiel study, I, p. 350.

144. Louis Aragon, Le paysan de P aris (Paris: G allim a rd, 1953), p. 141.

145. “ A mistake lying near at hand: to consider Surrealism an aesthetic movement” (notes to
the Surrealism essay, I I , p. 1035).

146. I I , p. 297.

147. I I , p. 297. Note that neither drugs nor religion were rejected totally. “ The opium o f the
people, Lenin called religion” (ibid ., p. 277); bu t i f both deceived the m ind, they also in ­
tensely sharpened visionary optics.

148. Letter, Benjam in to M a x Rychner, 7 M a rch 1931 [copy sent to Scholcm], B riefe , vol. 2,
p. 523.

149. V , p. 1023 (M °, 14).

150. In lig h t o f the fu ll Passagen-Werk document, the frequently voiced interpretation that
Benjam in returned to theological language only after S talin’s purges o f 1936, or the Nazi-
Soviet Non-Aggression Pact (1939) is impossible to sustain. I f his po litica l pessimism was
new at this later time, his theological language was not.

151. Letter, Benjam in to W erner K ra ft, 25 M a y 1935, V , p. 1115.

152. V , p. 579 (N3a, 2; cf. 0°, 79).

153. Cf. V , p. 577 (N3, 1).

154. Note here, in contrast to those who w ould modernize religion by seeing in A ID S , C her­
nobyl, or nuclear w ar a realization o f the prophesied Apocalypse, the a ll-im portant d if­
ference: The text represents the historically transient tru th o f reality, rather than reality
representing the eternal tru th o f the texts. In short, tru th is in the object, not the text,
w hich, incapable o f predicting the future, can only apply descriptively after the fact.

155. Q uotations from the 1844 manuscripts o f M a rx (w hich were first published in 1928)
appear frequently in Passagen-Werk entries. Benjam in used the Landshut and M ayer edition
(1932) o f M a rx ’s early w ritings (sec especially Konvolut X entitled “ M a rx ,” V , pp. 800-02
and passim).
450

Notes to pages 239-243

156. Entries X 3a, 4— X 4a, 1 (V , pp. 806-08) concern themselves w ith M a rx ’s theory o f
abstract labor.

157. V , p. 466 (J80, 2/J80a, 1).

158. See above, chapter 4.

159. V , p. 1057 ( g ° l) .

160. V , p. 580 (N4, 2).

161. V , p. 574 (N2, 1; again, 0°, 9).

162. V , p. 465 (J79a, 1)

163. V , p. 465 (J80, 2)

164. “ Theory o f the collector; elevation o f the com m odity to the status o f allegory” (V , p. 274
[H 2 ,6 ]) . T he allegoricist and collector are “ antithetical poles” ; at the same time, “ there is in
every collector an allegoricist” and vice versa (V , p. 279 [H 4a, 1]).

165. V , p. 271 (H la , 2).

166. See above, note no. 129.

167. See above, note no. 125.

168. Theses on H istory, I, p. 701.

169. Cf. B enjam in’s citing Korsch (on M a rx ): “ ‘O n ly for the present bourgeois society, in
which [ . . . ] the workers as citizens are free, w ith equal rights, does the scientific demonstra­
tion o f the ir actual continuous lack o f freedom in the economic sphere have the character o f a
theoretical discovery*” (K a rl Korsch, cited V , pp. 605-06 [N16a, 1]).

170. Theses on H istory, I, p. 704.

171. Theses on H istory, I, p. 701. Cf.: “ Being conscious tha t they are exploding the con­
tinu um o f history is a charateristic o f the revolutionary classes in the moment o f the ir action”
(ib id .).
In a note to the Theses, Benjam in observes that the common understanding o f w hat M a rx
means by the revolution is not the same as his own, Messianic one: O n M a rx: “ through a
series o f class struggles hu m anity achieves a classless society in the course o f the historical
development. = B ut the classless society is not to be conceived as the endpoint o f a historical
development. = O u t o f this mistaken conception has come, among other things, the idea
held by his successors o f the “ revolutionary situa tion” which, it is well known, w ill never
come { . } = T o the concept o f the classless society its authentic Messianic face must be given
again, precisely in the interest o f the revolutionary politics o f the proletariat its e lf’ (notes to
the Theses on H istory, I, p. 1232).

172. H erm ann Lotze (1864), cited V , p. 600 (N13a, 2). Cf. an earlier entry, w hich cites
M a rx ’s early w ritings: “ ‘T h e c ritic can. . .begin w ith any form o f theoretical or practical
consciousness and develop from the p a rticu la r forms o f existing reality the true reality as its
norm and final purpose’ ” (M a rx , letter to A rn o ld Ruge, September 1843). Benjam in com­
ments: “ The starting po in t o f w hich M a rx speaks here need not at all connect w ith the last
stage o f development. I t can be undertaken for epochs long past, the norm and final goal o f
which, then, must o f course not be represented w ith regard to the developmental stage that
451
Notes to pages 243-247

follows it, but instead in its own rig h t as a preform ation o f the final purpose o f history” (V ,
pp. 582-83 [N 5, 3 ]).

173. V , p. 600 (N13a, 1).

174. V , p. 608 (N18a, 3).

175. V , p. 578 (N3, 1).

176. V , p. 589 (N8, 1).

177. Pierre-M axim e Schuhl (1938), cited V , p. 609 (N18a, 2).

178. “ Strength o f hatred according to M a rx . T he desire to fight o f the w orking class. T o cross
revolutionary destruction w ith the idea o f redem ption” (notes to the Theses on H istory, I,
p. 1241).

179. B erto lt Brecht, A rbeitsjoum al, 2 vols., ed. W erner Hecht (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhrkamp
Verlag, 1973), vol. 1, p. 16 (jo u rn a l entry o f 25 J u ly 1983). Note, however, B recht’s positive
evaluation o f the Theses on H istory, despite the e xp licitly theological language they contain:
“ the small w ork is clear and avoids confusion (despite all metaphors and juda ism s)” (ibid .,
p. 294).

180. A d orno’s essay, “ C harakteristik W alter Benjam ins” (1950), w ritte n two years after he
had read the Passagen m anuscript, remains one o f the most accurate descriptions o f Ben­
ja m in ’s philosophy, one that does justice to both “ m ystical” and “ enlightenm ent” poles.
W hile A dorno mentions B enjam in’s indebtedness to the Kabbalah, he does not attempt, as
we have here, to spell out the connection, perhaps because Benjam in him self never explained
this indebtedness explicitly. Thus: “ I t is d iffic u lt to say to w hat extent he was influenced by
the neo-platonic and antinom ian messianic tra d itio n ” (Theodor W . Adorno, “ A P ortrait o f
W alter B enjam in,” Prism s, trans. Samuel and Shierry Weber [London: N eville Spearman,
1967], p. 243).

181. See Susan Buck-Morss, The O rigins o f Negative D ialectics: Theodor W. Adorno, W alter Ben­
ja m in , and the F ra n kfu rt In stitu te (New Y ork: M a cm illan Free Press, 1977) pp. 88-90, also
pp. 140 ff. for their intellectual friendship. Note that despite A dorno’s concern over the
In s titu te ’s possible influence on the Passagen-Werkt he was not alone among its members in
his appreciation. Low cnthal recalls: “ In this M essianic-M arxist dilem m a I am w holly on
B enjam in’s side— indeed I am his p u p il,” and he mentions that for Marcuse, too, the Mes­
sianic utopian m o tif played a significant role, whereas H orkheim er “ in his later years [ . . . ]
ventured— a b it too far for m y taste— into concrete religious symbolism” (Leo Lowenthal,
“ The In te g rity o f the Intellectual: In M em ory o f W alter B enjam in,” The Philosophical Forum :
150 and 156.

182. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 17 December 1934, V , p. 1110.

183. See below, chapter 8.

184. Adorno, “ A P ortrait o f W alter B enjam in,” Prism s , p. 235.

185. A dorno, “ A P ortrait o f W alter B enjam in,” Prism s , p. 236.

186. The fact that I am om ittin g from this discussion one o f the most intelligent and capable
w riters on Benjam in, who, moreover, believes precisely that B enjam in’s Messianism and his
M a rxis t politics were one and the same, requires an explanation. I am referring to the essays
o f Irv in g W ohlfa rth, a b rillia n t reader o f B enjam in’s texts. Like de M an, W ohlfa rth’s method
452

Notes to pages 247-248

is textual criticism , not philosophical analysis. Despite recent attempts to disregard the
boundary between these fields, I believe there is a difference, one that precisely in in te rp re t­
ing so “ lite ra ry ” a w rite r as Benjam in must be considered. Philosophy (even a philosophy o f
images) is conceptual, and concepts po in t beyond the text to a referential w orld o f objects
(even i f to the ir surface attributes) the meaning o f which (even i f it always only given in a
text) maintains a moment o f autonomy. As A dorno said, no object is w h o lly known, and yet
the striving for this knowledge is precisely w hat philosophy cannot relinquish. For this
reason, a to ta lly im m anent, esoteric interpretation o f Benjam in’s texts, w hile adequate as a
lite ra ry reading, is not so as a philosophical reading. The latter stubbornly rivets its attention
on w hat is represented, not merely how. T h a t being said, let me add that I have the greatest
respect for W o h lfa rth ’s work, and I recognize that in contrast to his nuanced analyses m y
own may bear the Brechtian stigm a o f “ coarse th in k in g ” (plumpes Denken).

187. The essay, “ H istorischer M aterialism us oder politischer Messianismus?” first appeared
as “ M a terialien zu B enjam in’s Theses ‘ lib e r den Begriff der Geschichte,” ’ in the an thol­
ogy o f the same name, cd. Peter Bulthaup (Frankfurt am M ain: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1975),
pp. 77-121. A second version, the introductory section o f which is significantly altered, ap­
pears under the new title in R o lf Tiedemann, D ia le ktik im S tillstand: Versuche zum Spdtwerk
W alter Benjamins (Frankfurt am M ain: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1983), pp. 99-142. This version has
been translated (by Barton Byg) as “ H istorica l M aterialism or P olitical Messianism? A n
Interpretatio n o f the Theses ‘O n the Concept o f H is to ry ’ ” in The Philosophical Forum , special
issue on W alter Benjam in: 71-104.

188. In the first version o f this essay, Tiedem ann directs his argument e xp licitly against
Gerhard Kaiser, who claims B enjam in identifies theology and politics, and “ ‘ thus doesn’t
secularize theology b u t theologies M a rx is m ’ ” (Kaiser, cited in Tiedem ann, “ H istorischer
M aterialism us. . . ” in B ulthaup, cd., p. 80).

189. Tiedemann, “ H istorica l M a terialism . . . , ” The Philosophical Forum : 90.

190. Tiedemann, “ H istorica l M a te ria lis m . . . The Philosophical Forum : 81.

191. Benjam in [I, p. 1231], cited in Tiedem ann, “ H istorical M a te ria lism . . . , ” The P h ilo ­
sophical Forum : 83.

192. Tiedem ann, “ H istorica l M a te ria lis m . .. , ” The Philosophical Forum : 95.

193. Tiedemann, “ H istorica l M a te ria lis m . .. , ” The Philosophical Forum: 90.

194. Tiedemann, “ H istorica l M a te ria lis m . .. , ” The Philosophical Forum : 96.

195. Tiedem ann, “ H istorica l M a te ria lis m . . . , ” The Philosophical Forum : 95. He concludes
critica lly: “ B enjam in’s theses are no less than a handbook for urban guerillas” ( ib id ., p. 96).
A far more positive evaluation o f B enjam in’s anarchism, and o f B enjam in’s attem pt to merge
theology and reolutionary politics, is provided by M ichael Low y in his excellent essay (w hich
appeared too late to be fu lly incorporated into m y discussion here), “ A l ’ecart de tous les
courants et a la croisce des chimens: W alter Benjam in,” Redemption et utopic; Le Judaism e
lib e rta ire en Europe centrale (Paris; Presses U niversitaires de France, 1988), pp. 121-61.

196. Jurgen Habermas, “ Bewusstmachcnde oder rettendc K r itik — die A k tu a lita t W alter
Benjam ins,” Z u r A k tu a lita t W alter Benjam ins, ed. Siegfried Unseld (F ran kfurt am M a in : Suhr­
kam p Verlag, 1972), p. 207. “ M y thesis is that Benjam in did not resolve his in te ntion to
unite Enlightenm ent and m ysticism , because the theologist in him was not able to under­
stand how to make the Messianic theory o f experience serviceable for historical m aterialism .
So much, I feel, m ust be granted to Scholem” (ibid .).
453

Notes to pages 248-250

197. Habermas, p. 202.

198. Habermas, p. 205.

199. Habermas, p. 211.

200. Habermas, p. 212 and 215.

201. Habermas, p. 206. Habermas disagrees here w ith Adorno, who “ apparently never hesi­
tated to a ttrib u te to Benjam in precisely the same ideological-critical intention that ensued
from his own w ork— erroneously” (ibid ., p. 209).

202. R ichard W olin, W alter Benjam in: A n Aesthetics o f Redemption (New Y ork: C olum bia U n i­
versity Press, 1982), p. 225. The claim that Benjam in possessed a “ nostalgic consciousness”
was first made by Fredric Jameson in his book, M arxism and Form : Twentieth-Century Theories o f
L iterature (Princeton, N .J.: Princeton U niversity Press, 1971), p. 82.

203. W olin, pp. 264-65.

204. “ T he M a rx is t disdain for tra dition is also evident in the unreflective employment o f the
method o f ideology-critique [ . . . ] ” (W olin, p. 265).

205. Speaking o f the “ failures” o f B enjam in’s life, W olin writes: “ There is also the adm itted­
ly am bivalent resolution o f his general philosophical project itself: the attem pt to combine
the methods o f materialism and metaphysics, to force the absolute to step forth from an
unmediated constellation o f m aterial elements” (W olin, p. 272). W olin ultim ately rejects
B enjam in’s self-understanding as a philosopher: “ Benjam in, for all his forays into the arcane
region o f Jewish mysticism remains, first and foremost, a litera ry c ritic ” (ibid., p. 26); “ the
aesthetic consciousness as guarantor o f historical tru th ” was B enjam in’s “ general
fram ew ork,” as it was that o f Bloch and Lukacs (ibid ., p. 27).

206. Cf. V , p. 578 (N3, 4).

207. V , p. 595 ( N i l , 3).

208. V , p. 592 (N9a, 3).

209. Benjam in was critical o f such consciousness, describing the “ unambiguously regressive
fun ction” o f C. G. Ju n g ’s theory that archaic images were conjured up by artists in their
“ ‘nostalgia,’ ” due to the “ ‘lack o f satisfaction offered by the present,’ ” causing them to try
“ ‘to compensate for the onesidedness o f the s p irit o f the age’ ” (V , p. 589 [N8, 2 ]).

210. V , p. 578 (N3, 1).

221. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, V , p. 1128.

212. Especially V , p. 588 (N7a, 7).

213. V , p. 577 (N2a, 3; also N3, 1; N lO a, 3).

214. A ndre M onglod (1930), cited V , p. 603 (N15a, 1).

215. T h e most intelligent analysis o f the significance o f film for Benjam in’s epistemology
(and conversely, o f Benjam in’s epistemology for film ) is M iria m Hansen’s essay, “ Benjam in,
Cinem a and Experience: ‘The Blue Flower in the Land o f Technology.’ ” In her understand­
ing o f the “ ambivalence” o f B enjam in’s notion o f the object’s “ looking back at you,” and her
454

Notes to pages 250-254

explication o f the “ optical unconscious” generally, Hansen’s discussion is clarifyin g precisely

because o f its a b ility to brin g B enjam in’s mysticism into a fu lly “ actual” discourse (see
M iria m Hansen, H arva rd U niversity Press, forthcom ing).

216. Earliest notes (pp. 27-29) V , 1013-14 (H °, 16).

217. V , p. 572 (N la , 1).

218. V , p. 578 (N3, 4).

219. V , p. 576 (N2a, 3).

220. V , pp. 598-99 (N13, 1).

221. V , p. 594 (N10, 5).

222. V , p. 599 (N13, 3).

223. V , p. 594 (N10, 5).

224. Lotze, M ikrokosm os (1858), cited V , p. 599 (N13, 3).

225. V, p. 1030 (0°, 36).

226. Letter, Benjam in to K a rp lu s [A p ril 1940], I, p. 1227.

227. Theses on H istory, I, p. 693.

8 D re a m W o rld o f M ass C u ltu re

1. C ertain interpreters o f W eber (c.g., Reinhard Bendix), relying pa rticu la rly on his early
works, conflate the process o f ra tionalization w ith the evolution o f history itself. Others (c.g.
W olfgang Mommsen) rig h tfu lly p o in t out that pa rticu la rly in the late-w ritten parts o f W irt-
schaft und Gesellschafl W eber understood the rationalization process as an ideal type, a fun­
dam ental form o f societal structural dynamics, the appearance o f w hich was neither lim ite d
to W estern development nor synonymous w ith it. (See W olfgang J. Mommsen, “ R ation ali-
sierung und Mythos bci M a x W eber,” in K a rl Heinz Bohrer, ed., M ythos und Modeme: B e g riff
und B ild einer Rekonstruktion [F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p Verlag, 1983], pp. 382-402.)

2. Benjam in suggests that Piranesi’s etchings o f ancient Rome were “ probab ly” the source o f
Baudelaire’s self-professed “ ‘natural predilection’ ” for this city (“ Das Paris des Second
E m pire bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 593).

3. V , p. 494 ( K la , 8). Follow ing W eber, one m ight argue that the charism atic leader be­
comes desirable as a way o f breaking out o f the iron cages o f m odernity’s rationalizations,
whereas, according to Benjam in, fascism is an extension o f the rccnchantm ent o f the w o rld and
o f mass m an’s illusory dream state (— w hile for A dorno and H orkh eim cr in D ia le k tik der
A u fkld ru n g , fascism is seen as an extension o f modem ra tio n a lity itse lf).

4. O n this point, in turn, W eber m igh t w ell have concurred. He describes m odernization as a
process o f “ ra tionaliza tion” only in the form al and instrum ental, not the substantive sense o f
reason. Mommsen cites a passage in W eber’s famous lecture, “ Wissenschaft als B eruf,” that
in fact an ticip ating the Surrealists, recognizes in m odernity a return o f “ ‘the old and num er­
ous gods’ bu t they are “ ‘disenchanted and thus [take] the form o f impersonal forces,’ ”
who “ ‘clim b out o f the ir graves, strive for power over our lives and begin again th e ir eternal
455

Notes to pages 254-257

struggle among each other’ ” (W eber, cited in Mommsen, “ R ationalizierung . . . , ” M ythos

und Modeme, P. 390).

5. V , p. 96 (K 2a, 1).

6. Einbahnstrasse, I V , p. 132.

7. V , p. 1007 (F°, 13).

8. V , p. 993 (A°, 5).

9. “ ‘A ll symbolism must arise from nature and go back to it. The things o f nature both
signify and are. [ . . . ] Only in m ythology is there a tru ly symbolic m aterial: but mythology its e lf is
only firs t possible through the relation o f its fo rm s to nature. [ . . . ]. The re birth o f a symbolic view o f
nature w ould thus be the first step toward a restitution o f a true m ythology’ ” (Schelling,
cited in M a nfried Frank, Derkommende G ott: Vorlesungen uber die Neue M ythologie, /. T e il [F ra n k­
fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p V erlag, 1982], pp. 198-99 [itals. S chclling’s]).

10. W agner viewed the Volk as the true wellspring o f art, yet the in d ivid u a l artist was to bring
the people’s s p irit to expression (see Frank, D er kommende G ott, pp. 226-31).

11. V , p. 1021 (G°, 26).

12. V , p. 1021 (G°, 26).

13. I t has been pointed out that the Romantics generally did not subscribe to a nationalist
conception o f the human “ com m unity,” and that unlike their tw entieth-century followers,
the ir concept o f the Volk clearly had progressive p o litica l im plications. “ A universal m ythol-
ogy [according to Schelling] indeed united not on ly a Volk in a nation; w hat was in ­
volved, as is stated lite ra lly, was a ‘reunification o f hum anity* that is, a supranational
com m unity w ith o u t separation o f private from pu b lic righ t, w ith o u t a gap between society
and state— a thought that lives on dire ctly in M a rx ’s idea o f a ‘universal human class’
[ . . . ] ” (Frank, Derkommende G ott, p. 203).

14. Cf. “ Aragon: new m ythology,” noted under: “ New meaning o f the Arcade,” in 1935
expose note no. 9, V . p. 1215.

15. V , p. 1006 (F°, 4, and a variant, F°, 10; another list includes: “ Ballhorn, Lenin, Luna,
Freud, M ors, M a rlitt, C itroe n” [h°, 1]). These muses, found “ hidden” in A ragon’s 135
pages on the Passage de l ’Opera, were so tra nsitory that several o f them have faded totally
from p u b lic recognition. K ate Greenaway, a late nineteenth-century illu stra to r o f children’s
books, was a name connected w ith a V ic to ria n style o f children’s clothes; Baby C adum was
the advertising image for Cadum soap; Hedda G abler was Ibsen’s fem inist heroine; “ L ib i­
do,” Freud’s life instinct, represented transitoriness itself (cf. I I , p. 1033). Benjamin also
names the “ w orldw ide traveler M ickey M ouse” as a “ figure o f the collective dream ”
(A rtw o rk Essay, I, p. 462).

16. V , p. 1207 (expose note no. 3).

17. Cf. V , p. 1208 (1935 expose note no. 3).

18. Louis A ragon, Le paysan de P aris [1926] (Paris: G allim a rd, 1953), p. 145. Cf. Benjamin:
“ Powers o f the m etropolis: gas tanks” (V , p. 1207 [expose note no. 3 on “ the best book about
Paris” ]).
456

Notes to pages 257-261

19. V , p. 583 (N5a, 2).

20. V , p. 583 (N5a, 2).

21. V , p. 584 (N5a, 2).

22. Aragon, Le paysan de P a ris, p. 142.

23. Aragon, Lepaysan de P aris , pp. 141-43. I t has been observed that “ the m ythical in Aragon
describes an experience in which the usual separation between consciousness and concrete
m atter, subjectivity and nature, is overcome, and in moments o f illu m in a tio n , it is e lim i­
nated” (Hans Freier, “ Odyssee eines Pariser Bauem: Aragons ‘M ythologie modeme’ und der
Deutsche Idealism us,” M ythos und Modeme, pp. 165-66).

24. Aragon, Lepaysan de P a ris , p. 141.

25. Aragon, Le paysan de P a ris , p. 143. U nde r threat o f dem olition, the arcades “ ‘have become
effectively sanctuaries o f a cu lt o f the ephemeral’ ” (ibid ., cited V , p. 140 [C2a, 9 ]). Cf.
Benjam in: “ A rchitecture as the most im p o rta n t witness o f the latent ‘ m ythology.’ A n d the
most im po rtan t 19th-century architecture is the arcade (V , p.1002 [D °, 7]).

26. For Aragon, “ m ythology hardly unfolds in the form o f a story. The narrative structures o f
m ythological stories, and therew ith, the genealogical form o f m ythical explanations o f ex­
isting reality, are not the object o f his interest” (Freier, “ Odyssee eines Pariser B auern,”
M ythos und Modeme, p. 164).

27. “ I have understood nothing but tha t m yth is above all a reality [ . . . ] ” (Aragon, Le
paysan de P aris , p. 140).

28. Aragon, Le paysan de P aris, p. 146.

29. Aragon, Le paysan de P aris, p. 146.

30. “ We conceive o f the dream 1) as an historical 2) as a collective phenomenon” (V , p. 1214

1935 expose note no. 8).

31. V , pp. 492-93 ( K l , 4).

32. The Romantics had anticipated this problem . Schelling, for example, w hile e xp licitly
rejecting the “ ‘im potent praise o f past eras and powerless chastising o f the present,’ ” recog­
nized “ the incapacity o f an atomized . . . society to ju s tify its e lf” (Frank, D er kommende G ott,
p. 195).

33. Benjam in cites S. Giedion: “ ‘The 19th century: Remarkable interpenetration o f in d i­

vidua listic and collective tendencies. As in scarcely any previous era, all actions were
branded as “ in d iv id u a lis tic ” (ego, nation, a rt). Subalternly, however, in proscribed, every­
day areas, it had to, as in ecstasy, create the elements for a collective fo rm a tio n . . . I t is w ith
this raw m aterial that we m ust concern ourselves, w ith grey buildings, m arket halls, depart­
ment stores, exhibitions’ ” (Giedion, cited V , p. 493 [K la , 4]).

34. “ Because he [A ragon] individualizes the m ythic, its point o f connection to collective
forms o f consciousness is s till only im aginary [ . . . based on] individ ual experiences through
w hich the universal cannot become concrete” (Freier, “ Odyssee eines Pariser B auern,”
M ythos und Modeme, p. 167).

35. V, p. 580 (N4, 1).

457

Notes to pages 261-264

36. V , p. 1014 (H °, 17; again N l, 9).

37. V , p. 1214 (1935 expose note no. 8).

38. “ Whereas w ith Aragon there remains an impressionistic element— ‘m ythology’— (and
this impressionism is to be held responsible for the many em pty philosophemes in the book),
here we are dealing w ith dissolving ‘m ythology’ in to the space o f history” (V , p. 1014 [H °,
17; again N l, 9]).

39. V , p. 1214 (1935 expose note no. 8).

40. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 15 M a rch 1929, V , p. 1091. Cf. his letter to Siegfried
K racauer (25 February 1928): “ [ . . . P recisely this Paris study [ . . . stands] very near to my
interest in children’s toys— and i f you come upon the m ention [in it] o f dioramas, peep-
shows, etc., then you surely know w hat to expect from i t ” (V , p. 1084).

41. V , p. 994 (A 0, 8).

42. Einbahnstrasse, IV , p. 93, trans. by E dm und Jephcott and Kingsley Shorter, in W alter
Benjam in, One Way Street and Other W ritings (London: N L B , 2979), P. 53.

43. C f “ Aussicht ins K in d e rb iic h e r” (1926) and “ ABC -Bucher vor hundert Ja h rcn ” (1928),
IV , pp. 609-15 and 619-20. In 1985 B enjam in’s book collection was brought to the U n i­
versity o f F rankfurt, In s titu t fu r Jugendbuchforschung, under the directorship o f Klaus
Doderer. D u rin g his trip to Moscow in 1927, Benjam in noted in his diary a discussion he had
w ith a Russian c hildren’s book collector about his “ great plan” for a documentary w ork to be
called “ Fantasy” ( IV , p. 1049).

44. IV , p. 1049.

45. Scholem, “ W a lte r B enjam in,” On Jews and Judaism in C risis: Selected Essays, ed. W erner J.
Dannhauser (New Y ork: Schocken Books, 1976), p. 175. (The w ritings to which Scholem
refers are “ B erliner C h ro n ik ” and B erliner K ind h e it um 1900.)

46. Scholem, “ W a lte r B enjam in,” On Jews and Judaism , p. 193.

47. Scholem, “ W a lte r B enjam in,” On Jews and Judaism , p. 185.

48. Scholem, “ W a lte r B enjam in,” On Jews and Judaism , p. 175.

49. Einbahnstrasse, IV , p. 115, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, P. 74.

50. W alter Benjam in (w ith Asja Lacis), “ Programm eines proletarischen Kindertheaters,”
I I , p. 766.

51. “ Programm eines proletarischen K indertheaters,” I I , p. 766.

52. Piaget’s entire project, the grounding o f a universal, cognitive psychology, remains inno­
cent o f this historical specificity o f the development o f formal rational operations, a deficien­
cy that becomes especially troublesome in the crosscultural application o f his tests (see Susan
Buck-M orss, “ Socio-Economic Bias in the Theory o f Piaget and its Im plications for the
Cross-C ulture Controversy,” Jean P iaget: Consensus and Controversy, eds. Sohan and Celia
M o d g il (New Y ork: H o lt, R inehart and W inston, 1982).

53. Cf. Benjam in, “ Probleme der Sprachsoziologic,” (1935), a review o f literature in the
sociology o f linguistics, w hich acknowledges Piaget’s w ritings, but, predictably, is interested
458

Notes to pages 264—265

in w hat Piaget sees as the more p rim itiv e , “ egocentric” stage the c h ild ’s use o f language (as
opposed to “ socialized” language), because this stage is “ tied to the situa tion,” that is, to the
c h ild ’s activity: Egocentric language is a form o f thought prom pted when this activity is
interrupted ( I I I , p. 474).

54. “ Programm eines proletarischen K indertheaters,” I I , P. 768.

55. “ Programm eines proletarischen K indertheaters,” I I , p. 768. Here was B enjam in’s
answer to M a rx ’s famous question in the th ird thesis on Feuerbach: “ The m aterialist doc­
trine that men are the products o f circumstances and up bringing and that, therefore,
changed men are products o f other circumstances and changed upbringing, forgets that it is
men who change circumstances and tha t it is essential to educate the educator him se lf”
(K a rl M a rx, “ Theses on Feuerbach,” The M arx-E ngeb Reader, ed. Robert C. Tucker, 2nd ed.,
rev. [N ew York: W . W . N orton & Com pany, 1978], p. 144).

56. Paul V alery, Idee F ixe , trans. by D avid Paul, Bollingen Series X L V . 5 (New Y ork: Panth­
eon Books, 1965), p. 36.

57. Benjam in recalled his own schooling: “ References to objects were no more to be found
than references to history; nowhere d id it offer the eye the slightest refuge, w hile the ear was
helplessly abandoned to the clatter o f id io tic harangues.” ( “ B erliner C h ro n ik,” V I, p. 474,
trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 303).

58. I f in the modern age artistic and p o litica l radicalism converged, it m ight have to do w ith
the fact that artists sustained m im etic cognition and developed it to m a turity: The artist
“ looks more closely w ith the hand there, where the eye grows weak [ . . . and] transposes
receptive impulses o f the eye muscles into the creative impulses o f the hand” (“ Programm
eines proletarischen K in d c rth c a te r,” I I , p. 766).

59. See Susan Buck-M orss, The o rig in o f Negative D ia lectics: Theodor W. Adorno. W alter Benjam in
and the F ra n kfu rt In stitu te (New Y ork: T he Free Press, 1977), p. 171 and passim.

60. Notes to Theses on H istory, I, p. 1243.

61. “ I f we imagine that a man dies at exactly fifty years old on the birthdate o f his son, w ith
w hom the same thin g occurs, and so forth— the result is: Since C h ris t’s b irth , not forty
persons have lived, the purpose o f this fiction: T o apply to historical tim e a meaningful
measure, adequate to human life” (V , p. 1015 [1°, 2]). Cf. M a rx ’s comment in The German
Ideology : “ H istory is nothing bu t the succession o f separate generations [. . . ] ” ( M arx-E ngeb
Reader, p. 172).

62. “ M oskau,” IV , P. 318, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 179.

63. “ One comes upon the terrifying, the grotesque, the grim side o f the c h ild ’s life. Even i f
pedagogues are s till hanging onto Rousseauean dreams, writers like Ringelnetz and painters
like Klee have grasped the despotic and inhum an side o f children” ( “ A lte Spielzuge,” IV ,
p. 515).

64. “ Programm eines proletarischen K indertheaters,” I I , p. 768. “ I t is the task o f the theater
director to rescue the c h ild ’s signals out o f the dangerous magic realm o f mere phantasy, and
to brin g them to bear on m aterial stuff” (ibid ., p. 766).

65. “ I t is a fa m ilia r image, the fam ily gathered under the Christm as tree, the father deep in
play w ith a tra in set w hich he ju s t gave as a g ift to his child, w hile the son stands nearby
crying. I f such a need to play overcomes the adult, that is no unbroken fallback in to childish­
ness. C hildren, surrounded by a gian t w orld, manage play w ith things the ir size. B ut the
459

Notes to pages 265-268

man whom reality positions differently, threateningly, w ith no way out, robs the w orld o f its
te rro r through its reduced size copy. M a kin g a bagatelle out o f an unbearable existence has
contributed strongly to the interest in children’s play and children’s books since the close o f
the w a r” (‘‘A ltc Spielzeuge,” IV , p. 514).

66. “ Programm eines proletarischen Kindertheaters,” I I , p. 766.

67. Einbahnstrasse, IV , p. 147, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 104.

68. See B enjam in’s correspondence, I I , pp. 951-55.

69. “ U ber das mimetische Verm ogen,” I I , p. 210.

70. ‘‘ U ber das mimetische Verm ogen,” I I , p. 211.

71. T he perception o f sim ilarities between two objects was ‘‘a late, derivative behavior,”
follow ing the “ ac tiv ity o f m aking oneself s im ilar to the object” which was basic to magic
( “ U b e r das mimetische Vermogen, I I , p. 211).

72. T h is expressive element in objects was a “ s piritu al essence” (geistiges Wesen), yet it
emanted from m aterial bodies (including the human body), rather than from the subject’s
ra tio. (See “ U ber Sprache iiberhaupt und uber die Sprache des M enschcn,” I I , pp. 140-
157).

73. “ U ber das mimetische Verm ogen,” I I , p. 211. Astrology concerns “ not the influences or
powers o f the stars, but the archaic human a b ility to adapt to the position o f the stars at a
p a rticu la r moment. I t is the hour o f b irth [ . . . ] ” ( I I , p. 956).

74. “ Graphology has taught us to recognize in h a ndw ritin g images wherein the unconscious
o f the w rite r is hidden. I t is to be supposed that the m im etic procedure, which comes to
expression in this form , in the w ritin g a ctivity o f the person, was o f the greatest importance
fo r w ritin g in the very distant times when w ritin g originated. Thus w ritin g is, next to lan­
guage, an archive o f nonsensual correspondences” ( “ U ber das mimetische Verm ogen” , I I ,
pp. 212-113).

75. “ U ber das mimetische Verm ogen” , I I , p. 211.

76. “ Probleme der Sprachsoziologie,” I I I , p. 478. T h is review o f current authors in the

sociology o f language (incuding Piaget, Vygotsky, Saussurc,Yerkes, E rnst Cassirer, Levy
B ru h l), was B enjam in’s way o f inform ing him self concerning the recent literature.

77. A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 500. Benjam in refers here specifically to Freud’s analysis o f slips o f
the tongue, in The Psychopathology o f Everyday L ife .

78. A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 500.

79. A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 496.

80. A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 488.

81. A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 499.

82. V , p. 1026 (O 0, 2).

83. A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 495.

460

Notes to pages 268-272

84. “ U ber einige M o tive bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 614.

85. A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 488.

86. Einbahnstrasse, IV , p. 103, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 62.

87. “ U ber einige M o tive bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 628n.

88. Notes to the A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 1040.

89. “ D er Surrealismus,” I I , p. 309.

90. “ D er Surrealismus,” I I , pp. 309-10.

91. See above, chapter 2 and introduction to part I I . Irvin g W ohlfarth has pointed out to me
tha t B enjam in’s choice o f the w ord “ F e r n rather than fairy tale ( M drchen ), is meaningful. I t
suggests a “ fairy scene,” indicating that Benjam in was not intending to narrate a fairy tale in
a story-telling fashion (a practice w hich, he tells us in the 1936 essay, “ der E rzahler,” had
grown precarious in modem times), but to protra y it, transform ing dream images in to d i­
alectical images through a montage o f h istorical representations. Yet I believe B enjam in’s
“ fairy scene” was to have the same effect as a fairy tale as a form o f instruction, and I have
therefore used the term ’s interchangeably below.

92. V , p. 1002 ([D ° , 7 ])

93. V , p. 494 ( K la , 8), Konvolut K is entitled “ Dream C ity and Dream House; Dreams o f the
Future, A nthropological M aterialism , Ju n g .”

94. V , p. 513 ( L I a, 1). T h e ir overhead ro o f lig h tin g created the “ underwater atmosphere o f
dreams” (O 0, 46; cf. H°, 4).

95. V , p. 1012 (H °, 1). “ I t is remarkable that the constructions w hich the professionals
recognize as the precursors o f today’s way o f b u ild ing effect the awake bu t architectually
unschooled sensibility as pa rtic u la rly old-fashioned and dream like (old railroad stations, gas
stations, bridges)” (V , p. 493 [ K la , 4 ]).

96. V , p. 1002 ( L I , 1).

97. Sec Konvolut L . S ignificantly, Benjam in does not m ention the movie theater as the
penultim ate “ dreamhouse.” O n the contrary, in its technological reproduction o f collective
dream spaces, film provides the opposite effiect: “ O u r taverns and our m etropolitan streets,
our offices and furnished rooms, ou r railroad stations and our factories appeared to have
locked us up hopelessly. Then came the film and burst this prison-w orld asunder by the
dynam ite o f the tenth o f a second, so tha t now, in the m idst o f its far flung ruins and debris,
we calm ly and adventurously go tra v e llin g ” (A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 500, trans. H a rry Zohn, in
W alter Benjam in, Illum in atio n s , ed. H annah A ren dt [N ew Y ork: Schocken Books, 1969], p.
236).

98. V , p. 494 ( K la , 7; cf. 0 ° , 8).

99. One o f the last such images was the frontispiece to Hobbes’ Leviathan, w ith its image o f
the king’s body composed o f atom istic and equally subservient individuals.

100. V , pp. 492-93 ( K l , 4; cf. G°, 14).

101. V , p. 494 (k la , 9; cf. O 0, 69).

461

Notes to pages 272-275

102. V , p. 496 (K 2 , 6).

103. “ D er S iiurrealism us,” I I , p. 307.

104. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 30 October 1928, V , p. 1089.

105. V , p. 1058 (h°, 3).

106. V , p. 234 ( G l, 7; again 1935 expose note no. 8).

107. In the 1935 expose, he wrote: “ Every epoch. . .carries its ending w ith in it, which it
unfolds— as Hegel already recognized— w ith cunning” (V , p. 59).

108. The goal o f B enjam in’s “ new dialectical method o f history w ritin g ” was “ the art o f
experiencing the present as the w aking w orld to which in tru th that dream w hich we call the
past [Gewesenes] relates” (V , p. 491 [ K l , 3; cf. F°, 6]).

109. “ Franz K a fka ,” I I , p. 415. S im ilarly, Benjam in wrote that it was “ more proper to speak
o f a tric k than a m ethod” when describing the procedure o f the Surrealists (“ D er Surrealis-
m us,” I I , p. 300).

110. “ Franz K a fk a ” (1934), I I , p. 415. The passage continues: “ A nd fairy tales for dialecti­
cians are w hat K afka wrote when he tackled legends. He placed little tricks into them and
then read out o f them the p ro o f‘tha t even inadequate and indeed childish means can serve as
rescue’ ” (ib id ). In the Passagen-Werk, the parallel w ith Odysseus is direct: “ The coming
awakening stands like the wooden horse o f the Greeks in the T ro y o f the dream ” (V , p. 495
[K 2 , 4]).

111. “ The condition o f consciousness in its m u ltip le patterns o f sleep and waking has only to
be transferred from the in d iv id u a l to the collective. T o the latter, o f course, many things are
internal that are external to the in d ivid u a l: architecture, fashions, yes, even the weather are
in the in te rio r o f the collective w hat organ sensations, feelings o f illness or health are in the
in te rio r o f the ind ivid u a l. A nd so long as they persist in unconscious and amorphous dream
form , they are ju s t as much natural processes as the digestive processes, respiration, etc.
They stand in the cycle o f the ever-identical u n til the collective gets its hands on them
po litica lly , and history emerges out o f them ” (V , p. 492 [ K l , 5]).

112. V , p. 490 ( K l , l ; c f . F°, 7).

113. V , p. 490 ( K l , 1 cf. F°, 7).

114. V , p. 1054 (e°, 2; cf. D2a, 1).

115. V , p. 576 (N2a, 1).

116. See above, chapter 5.

117. V , p. 493 ( K la , 3; cf. M °, 20).

118. V , p. 492 ( K la , 2; cf. M °, 16).

119. V , p. 1057 (h°, 1).

120. Theodor W . Adorno, Uber W alter Benjam in , ed. R o lf Tiedem ann (F ran kfurt am M a in :
Subrkam p Verlag, 1970), p. 13.

121. See below, chapter 10, section 3.

462

Notes to pages 275-278

122. “ D er E rzahler” (1936), I I , p. 458.

123. V , pp. 455-456 (J75, 2).

124. V , p. 494 (K 2 , 2; cf. 1°, 8).

125. Cf. V , p. 579 (N3a, 3), and: “ W h a t Proust docs for in d iv id u a l childhood is here to be
done for the collective*’ ( K l , 2). Evoking Proust, Benjam in says that in the dialectical im ­
ages, “ the past draws together in to a m om ent” and thereby “ enters in to the involu ntary
memory o f h u m a n ity ” (Notes to the Theses on H istory, I, p. 1233).

126. “ Franz K a fk a ” (1934), I I , p. 416.

127. V , p. 1026 (0 ° , 5).

128. V , pp. 1052-53 [e°, 1]).

129. V , p. 1032 (0 ° , 56).

130. V , p. 1054 (e°, 2).

131. Louis V e u illo t (1914), cited V , p. 492 ( K la , 1).

132. V , p. 493 ( K la , 6).

133. Bloch (1935), cited V , p. 497 (K 2a, 5).

134. Benjam in referred to these chronicles o f his childhood as a “ ‘history o f m y relationship

to B e rlin *” in a letter to Scholem, 28 February 1932, cited in Gersholm Scholem, W alter
B enjam in: The Story o f a Friendship (London: Faber & Faber, 1981), p. 180.

135. In the Passagen-Werk he included one childhood memory: “ M any years ago in a city tram
I saw an advertising placard w hich, i f it had entered into the w orld w ith proper things,
w ould have found its admirers, historians, exegeticians, and copyists, as much as any great
litera ture or great painting. A n d in fact it was both at the same time. B ut as can occur
sometimes w ith very deep, unexpected impressions, the shock was so strong, the impression,
i f I may say it thus, h it me so pow erfully that it broke through the bottom o f consciousness
and for years lay irretrievable somewhere in the darkness. I knew only that it had to do w ith
‘ B u llrich sa lz' [a brand name for salt]. [ . . . ] Then I succeeded one faded Sunday afternoon
[ . . . in discovering a sign on w hich was w ritte n ] ‘ B u llric h -S a lz ' I t contained nothing bu t the
word, bu t around this verbal sign there arose suddenly, effortlessly, that desert landscape o f
the first placard. I had it back again. I t looked like this: M oving forward in the foreground o f
the desert was a freight wagon draw n by horses. I t was laden w ith sacks on w hich salt had
already drib bled for a w hile onto the ground. In the background o f the desert landscape, two
posts carried a large sign w ith the words: ‘is the best.’ W h a t about the trace o f salt on the path
through the desert? I t constructed letters, and these formed a word, the w ord ‘Bullrich-Salz.*
Was the preestablished harm ony o f Leibniz not childishness compared w ith this knife-sharp,
finely coordinated predestination in the desert? A nd did there not lie in this placard a like­
ness for things w hich in this life on earth no one has yet experienced? A likeness for the
every-dayness o f utopia?” (V , pp. 235-36 [G la , 4]). Note that the c h ild ’s inventive reception
o f this mass-culture form as a sign o f nature reconciled w ith hum anity indicates that ch ild ­
hood cognitive powers are not w ith o u t an antidote to mass culture’s m anipulation.

136. In 1936 B enjam in proposed to H orkheim er an essay for the In s titu t on Klages and
Jung: “ I t was to develop fu rth e r the methodological considerations o f the Passagen-Werk,
confronting the concept o f the dialectical image— the central epistemological category o f the
463

Notes to pages 278-280

“ Passagm ” — w ith the archetypes o f Jun g and the archaic images o f Klages. Due to the in ­
tervention o f H orkheim er this study was never executed” (ed. note, V , p. 1145). S till, the
Passagen-Werk m aterial makes clear the line that B enjam in’s argument w ould have taken.
W here Jun g w ould see, for example, the recurrence o f a utopian image as a “ successful
re tu rn ” o f unconscious contents, B enjam in, far closer to Freud (and Bloch), argued that its
repetition was the sign o f the continued social repression tha t prevented realizing utopian
desires (K 2a, 5). O r, where Jun g w ould see the image o f the beggar as an eternal symbol
expressing a transhistorical tru th about the collective psyche, for Benjam in the beggar was a
historical figure, the persistence o f w hich was a sign o f the archaic stage, not o f the psyche,
b u t o f social reality that remained at the m ythic level o f prehistory despite surface change:
“ As long as there is s till one beggar, there s till exists m y th ” (K 6 , 4).

137. V , p. 1236 (version o f the 1935 expose).

138. “ B erliner C h ro n ik,” V I, p. 489, trans. Jcphcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 316.

139. V , p. 576 (N2a, 2).

140. V , p. 576 (N2a, 2).

141. V , p. 490 ( K l , 1; again F°, 1).

142. V , p. 118 (B3, 6).

143. A lthough one can find statements by Benjam in that seem to lament this situation, he
was no supporter o f the tra d itio n a l bourgeois fam ily (w hich he called in Einbaknstrasse “ a
rotten, gloomy edifice” [IV , p. 144]), and whatever positive attitude he had toward theology,
it d id not include the institu tion o f organized religion (— B erliner Chronik recalls his dislike o f
synagogue services for the “ fam ilia l no less than divine aspects o f the event” [V I, p. 512]). In
the Passagen-Werk Benjam in mentions as the one positive “ social value o f marriage” the fact
that by lastin g , it postpones inde finitely any fin a lly decisive quarrel and settlement! (V , p. 438
[J67, 1]).

144. V , p. 1214 (1935 expose note no. 8).

145. “ T ra u m kitsch ” (1925), I I , p. 620.

146. For an identification o f the various expose versions, see the editor’s note, V , p. 1251.

147. In the first typescript o f the expose (sent to A dorno) the conception o f the generation as
the in h e rito r o f culture is im p lic it in statements such as: “ [ . . . ] in these [collective] wish
images there emerges an energetic striving to break w ith that which is outdated— w hich
means, however, the most recent past” (V , p. 1239). A n earlier version (“ M ” ) is more
explicit: “ this inexorable confrontation w ith the most recent past is something historically
new. O th er neighboring links in the chain o f generations stood w ith in collective conscious­
ness, [and] scarcely distinguished themselves from one another w ith in that collective. The
present, however, already stands in the same relation to the most recent past as does awaken­
ing to the dream ” (p. 1236).

148. V , pp. 45 -59 and 1223-49; also Benjam in’s letter to K arplus, p. 1140. See also prepara­
tory notes for the expose from 1934-35, especially nos. 5 -9 , pp. 1209-14, and notes added
later, pp. 1249-51.

149. V , p. 1138.

150. V , p. 1139.
464

Notes to pages 280-282

151. V , p. 1139.

152. Note, however, that Benjam in continued to w ork on the m anuscript o f B e rlin e r K ind h e it
um 1900, rew orking the m aterial for possible publication as late as 1938. T h e most definitive
revision is not the one published in IV , but the one more recently discovered B enjam in’s
papers the in B ataille Archive, B ibliotheque Nationale.

153. Entries o f Konvolut K , devoted to this dream theory, are listed in the notes to the Baude­
laire “ book” compiled in the late 1930s (B ataille A rchive, Bibliotheque N ationale).

154. See above, chapter 1, section 5.

155. Letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 A ugust 1935, V , p. 1129.

156. V , p. 1129.

157. A t the end o f 1936, Benjam in spent tim e w ith Adorno in San Remo, and wrote that he
had benefited immensely from the ir discussions, pa rticu la rly in regard to “ those aspects o f
m y planned book w hich are most dissatisfying to me in the 1935 expose: I mean the line o f
thought that has to do w ith the collective unconscious and its image fantasy” (letter, Ben­
ja m in to H orkhcim er, 28 M arch 1937, V , p. 1157).

158. The orig inal copy o f A d orno’s letter o f 2 August 1935, is among the Benjam in papers in
the B ataille A rchive. Benjam in gave it a careful reading, making penciled notes and also
double red lines in the margin— not always at those points in Adorno’s form ulation that the
la tte r w ould him self have considered most eloquent. Benjam in’s notations include exclama­
tion marks and question marks, apparently indicating points o f disagreement.

159. S hortly before receiving A d orno’s reaction to the expose, Benjam in wrote to him ex­
pressing his preference for Freud’s theory over the theories o f From m and Reich, and asking
w hether A dorno knew i f in the w riting s o f Freud or his school there was “ at present a
psychoanalysis o f awakening, or studies on this theme?” The same letter stated that he had
begun to “ look around” in the first volume o f M a rx ’s C apital (letter, Benjamin to A dom o, 10
June 1935, V , p. 1121-22). In M a rch 1937 he wrote to H orkheim er that “ the definitive and
b ind ing plan o f the [Passagen- W erk], now that the m aterial research for it is finished except in
a few small areas, w ould proceed from tw o fundam entally methodological analyses. T h e one
w ould have to do w ith the criticism of, on the one hand, pragm atic history, and on the other,
cultu ral history as it is presented by the materialists; the other would deal w ith the meaning
o f psychoanalysis for the subject o f m aterialist h is to ry -w ritin g ” (p. 1158).

160. M a rx , cited V , p. 583 (N5a, 1).

161. M a rx , cited V , p. 570.

162. V , p. 495 (K 2 , 5; cf. M °, 14).

163. V , p. 495 (K 2 , 5).

164. I t is wrong to emphasize the significance for B enjam in o f psychonanalytic theory. In the
1930s, his reception o f Freud was s till largely mediated, coming from two d istin ctly unorth o­
dox sources, Surrealism and the F ra n k fu rt Institute. H is in itia l exposure to Freud’s w riting s
had been as a student, and it was far from positive. Scholem reports th a t in Bern in 1918,
“ Benjam in attended Paul H a b e rlin ’s seminar on Freud and produced a detailed paper on
Freud’s lib id o theory, arriv in g at a negative judgm ent. Am ong the books he read in connec­
tion w ith this seminar was D aniel Paul Schreber’s D enkw iirdigkeiten eines Nervenkranken, w hich
appealed to him far more than Freud’s essay on it [ . . . ]. From a salient passage in this book
Benjam in derived the designation “ fliic h tig hingemachte M anner [hastily pu t-up m en]. Schreber,
465

Notes to pages 282-283

w ho at the height o f his paranoia believed for a tim e that the w orld had been destroyed by
‘rays’ hostile to him , gave this answer when it was pointed out to him that the doctors,
patients, and employees o f the insane asylum obviously existed” (Scholem, W alter Benjam in,
p. 57). Scholem also reports: ‘ ‘ I do not remember his ever contradicting my expression o f
profound disappointm ent at Freud’s Interpretation o f Dreams, contained in a letter I wrote to
him a few years late r” (ibid., p. 61). In 1921 Benjam in wrote that i f capitalism was a religion,
Freudian theory was part o f the “ priest-dom ination o f this c u lt” ( V I, p. 101). He commented
in his article on Goethe for the Soviet Encyclopedia that Freud describes the bourgeois
psyche “ perceptively and fla tte rin g ly ,” as did Goethe in Das Leiden des Jungen Werther” ( I I ,
p. 709).

165. Scholem tells us: “ to him Surrealism was something like the first bridge to a more
positive assessment o f pyschonanalysis, but he had no illusions as to the weaknesses in the
procedures o f both schools” (Scholem, W alter Benjam in, pp. 134—35). I t was not u n til the
m id-1930s, in response to A d orno’s warnings that his concept o f the dreaming collective
brought him close to Jung, that Benjam in resolved to begin a more serious study o f Freud,
specifically, to w rite an attack on Jung (see V , pp. 1069, 1158, 1162). He took notes on Freud
as background for his second essay on Kafka. Even at this time, however, it was not so much
the central w riting s o f Freud that interested him as the “ sim ilaritie s” that he was surprised
to find betwen his own theory o f language (in “ Uber das M im etische Vermogen” ) and Freud’s
essay on “ Telepathy and Psychoanalysis" published in 1935 (letter, Benjam in to W erner
K ra ft, 30 Jan uary 1936, B riefe, 2 vols., eds. Gersholm Scholem and Theodor W. Adorno
Frankfu rt am M a in : Suhrkamp V crlag. 1978], vol. 2, p. 705)— specifically, the notion that
telepathy, a form o f understanding already present in insects [!], is phylogenetically a pre­
cursor o f language (see I I , p. 953). Entries relevant to Freudian theory that appear in the
p o s t- 1935 entries to Konvolut K , are largely lim ited to excerpts from a book by the Freudian
analysist, Theodor Reik, on the healing power o f memory which derives from the fact that
the conscious reconstruction o f the past destroys its power over the present (V , pp. 507-08
[K 8 , 1; K 8, 2]).

166. Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation o f Dreams, trans. and ed. James Strachey (New Y ork:
A von Books, 1965), p. 123.

167. Freud, p. 194.

168. V , p. 1212 (1935 expose note no. 5).

169. V , p. 1210 (1935 expose note no. 5).

170. V , p. 506 (K 6a, 2).

171. V , p. 261 (G13, 2).

172. V , p. 52 (1935 expose).

173. V , p. 669 (R2, 2).

174. “ Z e n tra lp a rk,” I, p. 677 (cf. V , p. 175 [D 9, 3]).

175. V , p. 448 (J 71, 7). The phrase is Goethe’s.

176. V , p. 1210 (1935 expose note no. 5).

177. V , p. 1215. The Brecht quotation (from a 1935 article) continued: ‘“ They [the rulers]
w ould prefer that the moon stand s till, and the sun no longer run its course. Then no one
w ould get hungry any more and w ant supper. W hen they have shot their guns, their oppo­
nents should not be allowed to shoot; theirs should be the last shots’ ” (cited B4a, 1).
466

Notes to pages 284—288

178. V , p. 1209 (1935 expose note no. 5).

179. V , p. 1000 (D°, 1).

180. V , p. 1035 (P°, 6).

181. B erliner C hronik, V I , P. 499.

182. V , p. 1033 (0 ° , 67).

183. V , p. 1033 (0 ° , 68).

184. V I, p. 471. trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 300.

185. V I, p. 488, trans. Jephcott and Shorter, One Way Street, p. 316.

186. V , p. 1018 (K °, 28).

187. V , p. 59 (1935 expose).

188. Letter, Benjam in to Scholem, 9 August 1935, V , p. 1137.

189. V , p. 130 (B9, 1; cf. B la , 4).

190. V , p. 113 (B la , 4).

191. V , p. 1018 (K °, 27).

9 M a te ria lis t P edagogy

1 . V , p. 603 (N15, 3).

2. V , pp. 1026-27 (0°, 5).

3. “ O ber den B egriff der Geschichte,” I, pp. 693-704. A dorno wrote in 1950 th a t these
Theses on H isto ry “ sum up the epistemological reflections, the development o f w hich accom­
panied tha t o f the Arcades project” (Theodor W . A dorno, “ C harakteristik W a lte r Ben­
ja m in s ,” Uber W alter Benjam in, ed. R o lf Tiedem ann [F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p V erlag,
1970], p. 26). Espagne and W erner argue that this statement “ does not correspond lite ra lly
to B enjam in’s statement” in his (22 February 1940) letter to H orkheim er, tha t the Theses
were “ ‘ to serve as a theoretical arm ature to the second Baudelaire essay* ” (B enjam in [V ,
pp. 1129-30], cited in Espagne and W erner, p. 646). They use this fact to bolster the ir claim
that the Baudelaire study superseded the Arcades project. M y criticism o f this claim has
been stated above (introdu ction to p a rt I I I ) .

4. Theses on H istory, I, p. 696 (cf. V , p. 584 [N5a, 7]).

5. Theses on H istory, I, p. 696.

6. Theses on H istory, I, pp. 696-97.

7. Ed. note, I I , p. 1355.

8. “ Eduard Fuchs, der Samm ler und der H isto rike r,” I I , pp. 472-73.
467

Notes to pages 289-291

9. Fuchs essay, I I , p. 473.

10. H is trip to Moscow in 1927 had convinced him that the problem o f cultural education
was ju s t as acute in a postrevolutionary society, where the C om m unist P arty’s attem pt to
teach the “ classics” o f European literature popularized bourgeois values “ in precisely the
distorted, dreary fashion for w hich, in the end, it has im perialism to thank” (“ Moskauer
Tagebuch,” V I, p. 339; see also chapter 2 above).

11. “ C b c r einige M o tive bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 608. I t had become “ also one o f the most
frequendy published books” (ibid .).

12. T h is was in opposition to the view o f Brecht, who believed that Baudelaire “ ‘in no way
brings to expression his epoch, not even a ten year period. He w ill not be understood for long;
already today too m any explanatory notes are necessary’ ” (Brecht, cited in the editorial
afterw ard, W alter B enjam in, Charles Baudelaire: E in L yrike r im Z e ita lte r des Hochkapitalism us , ed.
R o lf Tiedem ann [F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkamp V erlag, 1974], P. 193).

13. I, p. 1166. Ellipses in parentheses indicate crossed-out phrases in the notes.

14. Fuchs essay, I I , p. 477. B enjam in’s interpretation o f the Hegelian legacy in M a rx ’s
theory speaks precisely to this point: I t was not that M a rx ’s theory allowed the proletariat to
take possession o f the heritage o f German idealism. Rather, the real historical situation o f the
proletariat, its “ ‘decisive position w ith in the production process i t s e l f ” (C. K o rn [1908],
cited ib id ., p. 473) made possible M a rx ’s radical rereading o f Hegel. The real and present
image o f the proletariat at one stroke “ rescued” H egel’s philosophy for the present, and
levied against that philosophy its most devastating critique.

15. Fuchs essay, I I , p. 478.

16. Fuchs essay, I I , pp. 467-68.

17. Notes to the Theses on H istory, I, p. 1236.

18. V , p. 592 (N9a, 5).

19. I, p. 1242.

20. Notes to the Theses on H istory, I, p. 1231.

21. EinbaJinstrasse, [ IV , pp. 116-17], trans. by E dm und Jephcott and Kingsley Shorter, W a l­
ter Benjam in, One Way Street (London: New Left Books, 1979), p. 75.

22. “ Zum gesellschaftlichen Standort des franzosichen Schriftstellers” (1934), I I , p. 787.

23. “ Zum gesellschaftlichen S tandort. . . , ” I I , p. 789.

24. “ Surrealism ” (1929), I I , p. 309.

25. V , p. 588 (N7a, 3).

26. V , p. 576 (N2a, 3; again, N3, 1).

27. J. Jou bert (1883), cited V , p. 604 (N15a, 3).

28. V , p. 595 ( N i l , 3).

468_______________________
Notes to pages 291-303

29. V , p. 572 ( N l, 11).

30. Letter, Benjam in to Adorno, 9 September 1938, I, p. 1103.

31. R u d o lf Borchard (1923), cited V , p. 1026 (0 ° , 2; again, N l, 8). The stereoscope, invented
between 1810 and 1820, was the image o f B enjam in’s theory o f historical perspective (cf.
letter, A dorno to Benjam in, 2 August 1935, V , p. 1135).

32. A t times the entries appear to have a quite simple relationship to the “ present.” We are
told, for example that whereas in the past the aristocracy visited the baths, now they are
visited by film stars. The nickname o f Bismarck, the “ iron chancellor.” w hich marked “ the
entry o f technology into language” (V , p. 231 [F8, 5]) is a fact that resonates w ith the
contemporary nickname o f S talin, “ the steely one” ( der Stahlene). Benjam in notes that the
H yde Park site o f the 1851 exposition evoked “ a cry o f alarm ,” because “ for a fantasy specta­
cle one ought not to sacrifice the trees” (V , p. 247 [G6; G6a, 1]). In 1937 the same cry was
heard from the “ Friends o f the Esplanade des Inva lid cs” : “ Let us not destroy the capital
under the pretext o f the exposition. We must save the trees!” T h e ir protest prom pted a reply
from Leon B lum himself, who initiate d an investigation (see the series o f articles in La
Semaine a P a ris , Febru ary-A ug ust, 1937, [Paris, Bibliotheque de 1’H istoire de la V ille de
P aris]). I f such details had made the ir way into a finished Passagen- Werk they w ould have had
the effect o f suggesting to the reader how the work was to be read.

33. “ Passagen” (1927), V , p. 1041.

34. V , p. 1045 (a°, 2).

35. V , p. 1038 (Q°, 23).

36. G ropius’ model factory exhibited in Cologne in 1914 had walls o f glass; and it was for this
exhibition that Paul Sheerbart b u ilt his “ Glass House” (cf. B enjam in’s mention ofS heerbart
in connection w ith glass architecture as a utopian expression [1935 expose, V , p. 46]).

37. V , p. 573 (N la , 5).

38. V , p. 1035 (P°, 3).

39. See above, chapter 5.

40. V , p. 292 (14, 4).

41. V , p. 528 ( M ia , 4).

42. V , p. 1030 (0 ° , 33).

43. Notes to the Theses on H istory, I, p. 1244.

44. V , p. 1218 (1935 expose note no. 15.).

45. Several o f the photos o f architecture in the previous section are taken from Sigfried
G iedion’s B aiun im Frankreich (1928), which was one o f B enjam in’s earliest sources. (See also
entries from the much cited book by A d o lf Behne, Neues Wohnen— Neues Bauen [Leipzig: Hesse
and Becker V crlag, 1927]).

46. “ I t is the p a rtic u la r property o f technical forms o f style (in contrast to art forms) that their
progress and success are proportional to the transparency o f their social content. (Thus, glass
architecture)” (V , p. 581 [N 4, 6]).
469
Notes to pages 303-306

47. In a somewhat sim ila r way, A dorno in these years developed a theory o f Schonberg’s
atonal music as anticipatory o f a new social order. There was an im po rtan t difference in their
examples, however. Schonberg’s transcendence o f bourgeois ton ality was the inner-m usical
accomplishm ent o f an in d iv id u a l artist w orking in isolation, draw ing out the consequences o f
the musical tra d itio n he had inherited. In contrast, the transformations o f fashions,
architecture, furnishings, and “ style” generally were collective projects, accomplished
through the collaboration o f engineers, commercial designers, factory producers, and others.
M oreover, as use-values rather than autonomous art, they entered into people’s everyday
experience, as pa rt o f the contents o f the collective unconscious. A t least potentially, Ben­
ja m in ’s approach thus avoided the elitism intrin sic to A dorno’s cultu ral criticism . (See Susan
Buck-M orss, The O rigins o f Negative D ia lectics: Theodor W . Adorno, W alter Benjam in and the Frank­
fu r t In stitu te (New Y ork: M a cm illan Free Press, 1977), chapter 8, pp. 127-31.) T he idea o f
cu ltu ra l forms as an ticipatory can also be found in E rnst Bloch.

48. Cf. V , p. 775 (W5a, 5). Benjam in notes also Ledoux’s plan for a residential complex that
for the firs t tim e proposed ‘ “ w hat we in the present call a common kitchen bu ild in g ’ ”
(K aufm ann [1933], cited V , p. 742 [U17, 3]).

49. V , p. 786 ( W lla , 3).

50. “ F ourier wants to see the people who are not useful for anything in civilization, who only
go about try in g to catch up on the news and spread it further, circulate at the dinner tables o f
the harmonists, in order to spare people the time o f reading journals: a divination o f radio
tha t is derived from studying the human character” (V , p. 793 [W 15, 5]).

51. H e im agined an “ optical telegraph” (V , p. 793 [W 15, 2]).

52. V , p. 783 [W 9a, 3]).

53. V , p. 776 (W 6, 4; also W6a, 4; W8a, 1).

54. V , p. 1058 (h°, 4). Y et he had always understood these dream images as am bivalent (see
above, chapter 8, section 8). I f F ourier’s phalanstery anticipated pu blic housing, it also
privatized the b u ild in g style o f the arcades, a “ reactionary transform ation” that was “ symp­
tom atic” (V , p. 47 [1935 expose]).

55. B enjam in’s correspondence indicates tha t he was both late to realize the danger o f fasc­
ism and late to acknowledge the inadequacy o f the Soviet-led C om m unist Party as a force o f
opposition against it (see W alter Benjam in, B riefe , 2 vols., cds. Gcrshom Scholem and
Theodor W . A dorno [F ra n k fu rt am M a in : Suhrkam p V crlag, 1978], vol. 2, pp. 536, 646,
722, and passim).

56. T h is was B enjam in’s description in 1934 (see letter, Benjam in to A dorno, 18 M a rch
1935, V ,p p . 1102-3).

57. V , p. 994 (A°, 9; again d°, 1, M 3a, 4).

58. “ Die W icderkehr des Flaneurs,” I I I , p. 198.

59. “ Das Paris des Second Em pire bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 539.

60. V , p. 554 (M 13a, 2).

61. V , p. 964 (m2a, 3).

62. “ Das Paris des Second Em pire bei Baudelaire,” I, pp. 537-39.

63. Benjam in w rites tha t he acts as i f he knew M a rx 's definition that “ the value o f every
com modity is determined [ . . . ] by the socially necessary labor time o f its production [ . . . ] .
470

Notes to pages 306-308

In his eyes and frequently also those o f his employer, this value [fo r his labor tim e] receives
some fantastic compensation. C learly the latte r w ould not be the case i f he were not in the
privileged position o f m aking the tim e for the production o f his use value observable for
pu blic evaluation, in that he spends it on the boulevards and thus at the same tim e displays
i t ” (V , pp. 559-60 [ M l 6, 4]).

64. V , p. 562 ( M l 7a, 2; cf. M l 9, 2; both entries are post-1937). For a fu lle r treatm ent o f this
theme, see Susan Buck-M orss, “ T he Flaneur, the Sandwichman and the W hore: T h e Poli­
tics o f Lo ite rin g ,” New German C ritique 39 (fall 1986): 99-140.

65. V , p. 967 (m4, 2).

66. I, p. 516.

67. Notes to Charles Baudelaire , I, p. 1174.

68. V , p. 436 (J66, 1).

69. V , p. 469 (J81a, 1).

70. “ O n ly in the sum mer-like m iddle o f the nineteenth century, only under the sun, can one
th in k o f Fourier’s fantasies as realized” (V , p. 785 [W lO a, 4, late e n try]).

71. “ The historical index o f [dialectical] images says not only that they belong to a p a rticu la r
time; it says above a ll that only in a p a rtic u la r tim e do they come ‘to le g ib ility ’ ” (V , p. 577
[N 3, 1]).

72. Benjam in records that, iron ically, “ Napoleon I I I belonged to a Fourierist group in 1848”
(V , p. 789 [W 12a, 5]).

73. “ Zum Geschichtsphilosophie, H is to rik und P o litik ” (1934), V I , p. 104.

74. T he first note to the 1935 expose includes a chronology o f the steps in this process, from
the 10 December 1848 presidential election o f Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte to his dissolution o f
the R epublic three years later, and his subsequent, successful plebiscites (V , pp. 1206-07).

75. De Lignieres (1936), cited V , p. 926 (d l2 a 2).

76. The Benjam in papers in the B ataillc A rchive include press clippings on M ickey Mouse
and W a lt Disney from French newspapers (Paris, B ibliotheque N ationale).

77. T he firs t fu ll-co lo r anim ated cartoon by W a lt Disney appeared in 1932, entitled “ Flowers
and Trees” : A crabby tree stum p disrupts a romance between two young trees, and starts a
fire tha t threatens the whole forest. B irds puncture clouds, causing rain to fall tha t drowns
the flames. T he stum p is destroyed, the lovers m a rry w ith a glow w orm for a w edding ring,
w hile flowers celebrate the nuptials. A Passagen-Werk entry notes the difference between the
w ork o f G randville and that o f W a lt Disney: Disney “ ‘contains not the slightest seed o f
m ortification. In this he distances him self from the hum or o f G randville, which always car­
ried w ith in it the presence o f death’ ” (M a c -O rla n [1934], cited V , p. 121 [B4a, 5 ]).

78. “ For an explanation o f F o urier’s extravagances, one can draw on M ickey Mouse, in
whom , precisely in the sense o f Fourier’s fantasies, the m oral m obilization o f nature has
taken place: In it hum or puts politics to the test. I t confirms how rig h t M a rx was to see in
Fourier, above all else, a great hu m orist” (V , p. 781 [W 8a, 5]).

79. Notes to the A rtw o rk essay, I, p. 1045.

471

Notes to pages 308-316

80. Eighteenth-century prospectus, cited V , p. 702 (T2, 5).

81. V , p. (E°, 33).

82. V , p. 1207 (1935 expose note no. 3).

83. V , p. 1207 (1935 expose note no. 3).

84. V , p. 500 (K 3a, 1).

85. V , p. 595 ( N i l , 1).

86. C. E. Jung, (1932), cited V , pp. 589-90 (N8, 2).

87. V , p. 963 (m la , 6).

88. “ U b e r einige M o tive bci Baudelaire,” I, p. 609.

89. “ [ . . . T ]h e flames on the sides o f the Nurem berg stadium, the huge overwhelm ing flags,
the marches and speaking choruses, present a spectacle to [today’s] modern audiences not
unlike those A m erican musicals o f the 1920s and 1930s w hich H itle r him self was so fond o f
watching each evening” (George Mosse, The N atio n a liza tion o f the Masses [N ew Y ork: H ow ard
Fertig, 1975]), p. 207).

90. Le Corbusier, Urbanism e( 1927), cited V , p. 184 (E2a, 1; see also E2, 9).

91. “ A story has it that M adam e Haussmann, at a party, reflected naively: “ I t is curious,
every tim e that we buy a bu ild in g a boulevard passes through i t ” (V , p. 192 [E5, 4]).

92. W ashington, D. C., was re built in the depression years according to the tenets o f neoclas­
sical design.

93. C abinet des Estampes, B ibliothequc Nationale, V , pp. 941-42 (g2a, 3).

94. Saint-Sim on’s ideas “ were closer to state capitalism than to socialism’ ” (V olgin [1928],
V , p. 720 [U 6 , 2 ]). “ Saint-Simon was a predecessor o f the technocrats” (U5a, 2); Benjam in
notes: “ the points o f contact between Saint-Simonianism and fascism” (V , p. 1211 [1935
expose note no. 5]).

95. Robert Moses, cited in M a rshall Berman, The Experience o f M odernity: A ll that is S olid M elts
into A ir (New Y ork: Simon and Schuster, 1982), p. 290.

96. Despite the N azi ideology o f volkish culture, H itle r favored neoclassicism over the T e u­
tonic tra d itio n , so that the plans by Speer w hich he commissioned resembled the 1930s
b u ild in g projects in W ashington, D .C ., far more than the German buildings o f the past.
Benjam in cites Raphael’s attem pt to correct “ the M a rx is t conception o f the norm ative char­
acter o f Greek a rt” : “ ‘the abstract notion [ . . . ] o f a “ norm ” [ . . . ] was created only in the
Renaissance, that is, by p rim itiv e capitalism , and accepted subsequently by that classicism
w hich . . . began to assign it a place w ith in the historical sequence’ ” (M ax Raphael [1933],
cited V , p. 580 [N 4, 5]).

97. V , p. 1212 (1935 expose note no. 5). Nazi urban design stressed the m onum entality o f
state buildings, w ith the goal o f “ ‘reawakening’ ” the soul o f the German people (R obert R.
T a ylor, The W ord in Stone: The Role o f Architecture in N atio n a l S ocialist Ideology [Berkeley: U n i­
versity o f C alifornia Press, 1974] p. 30). For H itle r, “ ‘com m unity’ architecture never meant
b u ild ing to meet the needs o f the com m unity,” for example, workers* housing or hospitals
472_______________________

Notes to pages 316-320

(ibid ., p. 28). H e praised the state architecture o f ancient Rome— temples, stadiums, c ir­
cuses, and aqueducts— in contrast w ith the architectural emphasis in W eim ar, Germany,
where “ hotels and ‘the departm ent stores o f a few Jews’ ” were prom inent (ibid ., p. 40). O n
R eichskristallnacht 1938, tw enty-nine departm ent stores, all owned by Jews, were burned.

98. B enjam in’s criticism o f the C om m une (see Konvolut k) is, rather, that it had “ illusions” o f
itse lf as a continuation o f the s p irit o f the 1793 (see V , p. 952 [k2a, 1]). Note tha t precisely
the same “ illusions” were held by the French C om m unist Party in the 1936 elections: T h e ir
slogan was “ tha t Com m unism was the Jacobinism o f the twentieth century” (Joel C olton,
“ Politics and Economics in the 1930s,” From the Ancien Regime to the Popular F ro n t: Essays in the
H istory o f Modem France in H onor o f Shepard B . Clough, ed. Charles K . W arn er [N ew Y ork:
C olum bia U niversity Press, 1969], p. 186).

99. Cf. B enjam in’s reference to Fourier in the Theses on H istory, in the context o f protest­
ing against the Social Democrats* “ technocratic” image o f utopia (found in fascism as well)
that glorifies w ork and has a conception o f nature which “ differs om inously from socialist
utopias before the 1848 re volution” : “ La bor as now understood boils down to the exploita­
tion o f nature, w hich w ith naive complacency is contrasted to the exploitation o f the proletar­
iat. Compared w ith this positivistic conception, the fanatasies o f someone like Fourier that
have been so much ridiculed prove to be surprisingly sound. A ccording to Fourier, w ell-
conceived social labor should have as its result that four moons illum ina te the ea rth’s night,
ice recede from its poles, sea w ater no longer taste salty, and beasts o f prey serve human
beings. A ll this illustrates a form o f labor which, far from exploiting nature, is capable o f
releasing from her the creations that lie dorm ant in her lap” ( I, p. 699, cf. v, pp. 775-76 [W 6,
4; also W lla , 8; W14a, 6; W 15, 8]).

100. “ U ber cinige M o tive bei Baudelaire,” I, p. 589 (cf. V , p. 152 [C7a, 4]).

101. V , p. 184 (E2, 10).

102. V , p. 203 (ElOa, 2).

103. V , p. 198 (E7a, 3).

104. D ubech-D ’Espezel (1926), V , p. 854 (a la , 1).

105. V , p. 208 (E13, 2).

106. V , p. 585 (N 6, 5).

107. Louis A ragon (1935), cited V , p. 579 (N3a, 4).

108. H is hotel was at the “ strategically pa rticu la rly im p o rta n t” com er o f the rue du Four
and the Boulevard S aint-G erm ain, not far from the Palais Bourbon and the Cham ber o f
Deputies. (Letter, Benjam in to Gretel K arp lu s (beginning o f February 1934), V , p. 1099).
For an excellent biographical account o f Benjam in in the 1930s, see Chryssoula Kambas,
W alter Benjam in im E x it: Zum Verhdltnis von L ite ra tu rp o litik und Asthetik (T ubingen: M a x
Niemeyer V erlag, 1983).

109. The article was planned for the C om m unist newspaper Le Monde.

110. The book was most probably H istoire de P aris by Lucien Dubech and Pierre D ’Espezel
(1926), w hich is cited heavily in the entries from this period in Konvolut E, entitled “ Hauss-
m annization; B arricade F ig h tin g .” The article on Haussmann drew on m aterial from this
Konvolut o f the Passagen-Werk. B enjam in wrote to K arp lu s in February 1934 that Brecht con­
sidered Haussmann an especially im po rtan t theme, and that by taking up this theme, he had
473

Notes to pages 320-321

“ again come into the imm ediate p ro x im ity o f my Arcades project” on w hich w ork had been
tem porarily interrupted, (V , p. 1098). The article, never completed, would have had striking
p o litica l relevance for the p a rticular historical moment.

111. The “ tactic o f civ il w a r” was “ underdeveloped” (V , p. 182 [E la , 6]). A lready in the
1848 revolution, Engels noted, barricade figh ting had more “ ‘ moral than m aterial signif­
icance’ ” (Engels, cited ibid ., E la , 5).

112. O n the abortive B lanquist putsch o f August 1870: “ T e llin g for the forms o f street
figh ting was the fact tha t the workers preferred daggers to guns (V , p. 204 [ElO a, 5]). The
heyday era o f the barricades had been the revolution o f 1830, when “ 6,000 barricades were
counted in the c ity ” (1935 expose note no. 19, V , p. 1219). “ In the suppression o f the June
insurrection [1848] a rtille ry was employed in the street figh ting for the first tim e” (V , p. 202
[E9a, 7]).

113. Letter, Benjam in to K arp lu s, February 1934, V , p. 1099. T h a t street demonstrators

were no match for a state w illin g to use force was demonstrated that evening, when the police
and gardes mobiles stopped the crowd, killin g fourteen, and wounding over a thousand (see Joel
Colton, Leon B lum : H um anist in P o litics [C am bridge, Mass.: T he M I T Press, 1974], p. 94). It
was during this period o f political instability, 1934—35, that Benjamin composed the Passagen-
Werk expose.

114. Benjam in was w ith F ritz Lieb that day, to whom he wrote the follow ing year: “ Do you
remember our Bastille Day together? H ow reasoned now appears that discontent which we
then dared to express on ly h a lf aloud” (letter, Benjam in to Lieb, 9 J u ly 1937, [ B riefe , vol, 2,
p. 732]).

115. “ Everywhere the strikes took a common form . The workers remained in the plants day
and night, posting security guards, solicitously caring for the machinery. Food and blankets
were brought in by the ir families and sympathizers; entertainm ent was provided. There was
little or no vandalism. Indeed the workers seemed to be treating the factories as i f the plants
already belonged to them, w hich was enough to frighten the bourgeoisie. Le Temps saw some­
thing sinister in the very order that reigned in the factories” (C olton, p. 135).

116. T rotsky, cited in C olton, p. 152.

117. V olum e V I I o f B enjam in’s collected works (yet to appear) w ill consist o f his corre­
spondence, and may indicate otherwise.
O n the constellation o f the F ro n t Populaire and the Passagen-Werk, see the excellent article by
P hilippe Ivem el, “ Paris— C apital o f the Popular F ro n t,” trans. V alerie Budig, New German
C ritique 39 (fall 1986): 61-84, o r the orig inal French pu blication (w hich spells the author’s
name correctly) in W alter Benjam in et P a ris: Colloque international 2 7 -2 9 ju in 1983, ed. Heinz
W ism ann (Paris: Cerf, 1986), pp. 249-272. See also the well-researched essay by Jon Basse-
w itz “ B enjam in’s Jewish Id e n tity du rin g his E xile in Paris,” (in p rin t), w hich puts Ben­
ja m in ’s w ork in the context o f the L e ft-c u ltu ra l debates in Paris d u ring the 1930s.

118. Indeed, that potential was stifled by the leadership, as Benjam in commented retro­
actively on the occasion o f further strikes in December 1937: “ [ I]n so far as the strike
movement is a continuation o f those that preceded it, it seems ill-fated. In two years, the
leadership has succeeded in robbing the workers o f the ir elementary sense o f instinctive
action— th e ir in fa llib le sense for when and under w hat conditions a legal action must give
way to an illegal one, and when an illegal action m ust become violent. T h e ir current actions
in s till fears in the bourgeoisie, bu t they lack the intention, the real power to in tim id a te ”
(letter, B enjam in to F ritz Lieb, 31 December 1937, cited in Chryssoula Kambas, “ Politische
A k tu a lita t: W a lte r B enjam in’s Concept o f H isto ry and the Failure o f the Popular F ront,”
New German C ritique 39 (fall 1986): 93-94.
474

Notes to pages 321-324

119. V , p. 937 (d l8 , 5; see also d l, 2; d la , 2; dlOa, 1; d l2 , 2; d l8 a , 1).

120. Letter, Benjam in to F ritz Lieb, 9 J u ly 1937, B riefe, vol. 2, p. 732. H is appraisal was no
less critic a l w ith regard to the C om m unist Party's opportunism d u ring the Spanish C iv il
W ar, where *'m artyrdo m is suffered not for the actual issue, bu t far more in the name o f a
compromise proposal [ . . . ] between the revolutionary ideas in Spain and the M achiavel­
lianism o f the Russian leadership, as w ell as the M am m onism o f the indigenous leadership”
(letter, Benjam in to K a rl Thiem e, 27 M a rch 1938, B riefe , vol. 2, p. 747).

121. V , p. 798 (W17a, 1).

122. Despite some criticism o f consumer novelties because their production ate into national
resources, cosmetics and fashions were not eradicated in fascist Germany; instead, these
were encouraged as domestic industries, against the dominance o f the French in this field.
T he demand for private homes was encouraged; mass consumption o f the autom obile was
the state goal, achieved w ith Volkswagen in its “ classic” Beetle style. (See Sex and Society in
N a z i Germany, cd. H e in ric h Fraenkel, trans. J. M axw ell B row njohn [N ew Y ork: J. B. L ip p in -
cott Com pany, 1973]).

123. As one o f his first actions, H itle r founded the “ K ra ft durch Freude” (Strength through
Joy) association to organize leisure tim e activities such as tourism , sports, and theater and
concert attendance. The “ Travel and T o u ris m ” bureau organized planned holidays— and
later organized the transport o f Jews to the death camps.

124. K a rl M a rx on the February Revolution, 1848, cited V , p. 183 (E la , 6).

125. There was a difference, in that B lum was fu lly com m itted to republican parliam entar-
ianism . In contrast: “ The Saint-Simonians had very lim ited sympathies w ith democracy”
(V , p. 733 [U 13, 2 ]). The radical, rom antic Saint-Sim onian l ’ E nfantin “ greeted Louis-
Napoleon's coup as a w ork o f Providence” (V , p. 741 [U 16a, 5]). B ut his advocacy o f class
harm ony and state capitalism portended the welfare state philosophies o f B lum and F ranklin
D . Roosevelt as well, and it was this position that Benjam in considered the central error o f
the Left; its correction was the aim o f m aterialist education.

126. V o g lin (1928), cited V , pp. 717-18 (U 5, 2).

127. C ited V , p. 734 (U13, 9).

128. V o g lin (1928), cited V , p. 720 [U 6 ,2 ]).

129. “ A ll social antagonisms dissolve in the fairy tale tha t progres is the prospect o f the very
near future” (V , p. 716 [U 4a, 1]).

130. See above, chapter 4.

131. Sec Le liv re dts expositions universelles, 1851-1989 (Paris: U nion centrale des A rts Decoratifs,
1983), pp. 137 and 310. Benjam in notes the precedent: In the 1867 exposition “ the oriental
quarter was the central a ttra c tio n ” (V , p. 253 [G8a, 3; also G9a, 6]).

132. Le liv re des expositions, pp. 145-156.

133. The la tte r had its own pavilion where one could sit inside, totally engulfed in this
m aterial, tha t has since proven carcinogenic.

134. See Inve m el, New German C ritique , p. 76.

475

Notes to pages 324-334

135. As a precursor: “ The w orld exposition o f 1889 had a historical panorama [ . . .th a t
depicted] V ic to r H ugo before an allegorical monument o f France— a m onum ent that was
flanked by allegories o f defense o f the fatherland and o f labor” (V , p. 664 [Q 4, 5]).

136. Brochure, P avillion de S olidarity, (Paris: Bibliotheque de l ’H istoire de la V ille de Paris).

Cf. Jean Cassou (1936), cited V , p. 953 (k2a, 6) on the ‘ “ naive dream’ ” o f the universal
expositions, expressed by Gustave Courbet: “ ‘an imperishable order, order by the
citizens.’ ”

137. V , p. 256 (GlOa, 2).

138. Paul Lafargue (1904), citing Fourier, cited V , p. 770 (W 3a, 2).

139. Notes to the A rtw o rk essay (1935-36), I, p. 1039.

140. I. p. 1039.

141. I, p. 1040.

142. Leon D audet (1930), cited V , p. 155 (C9a, 1).

143. H itle r, cited by A lb e rt Spier [sic.], Inside the T h ird Reich (New York: A von Books, 1970),
p. 172.

144. Theses on H istory, cited above, section 1.

145. Le tter Benjam in to K arp lu s, 19 J u ly 1940, V , p. 1182.

A fte rw o rd : R e v o lu tio n a ry In h e rita n c e

1. V , p. 591 (N9, 4).

2. Lisa Fitko to Gershom Scholem, telephone conversation, 15 M a y 1980, cited V , pp. 1191-
92.

3. Letter, H enny G urland to (her cousin) A rka d i G urland, V , pp. 1195-96, engl. trans, from
Gershom Scholem (who says incorrectly that the letter was w ritte n to A dorno), W alter Ben­
ja m in : TheS toiy o f a Friendship (New Y ork: Faber and Faber, 1982), pp. 225-26 (italics, mine.
Note that the italicized translation has been modified: I t reads in the original, “ I had to leave
a ll papers ( alle Papiere)— im plyin g B enjam in’s as w ell— whereas Scholem has translated it,
“ I had to leave all my papers [ . . . ] . ” )

4. V , p. 1203.

5. C ited V , p. 1198.

6. C ited V , p. 1198 (italics, m ine).

7. These items were sent by the Spanish officials to Figueras. R o lf Tiedem ann traveled to
Spain in June 1980 to investigate whether a file on Benjam in s till exists that m igh t contain
the “ few other papers.” No file could be found. See Tiedem ann’s protocol o f the trip , V ,
pp. 1199-1202.

8. W hen H annah A rc n d t arrived at Port Bou several months later, she could find no trace o f
his grave (Scholem, W alter Benjam in, p. 226).
476

Notes to pages 334-338

9. V , p. 1202.

10. Scholem, d te d V , pp. 1203-94.

11. V , p. 1214.

12. V , p. 1119.

13. Benjam in, cited V , p. 1205.

14. Theses on H istory, I, p. 659, trans. by H a rry Zohn in W a lte r Benjam in, Illu m in a tio n s , ed.
H annah A ren dt (New Y ork: Shocken Books, 1969), p. 255.

15. “ t)b e r einige M o tiv e bei B a u d e la ire /’ I, p. 611.

16. Einbahnstrassc (1928), IV , p. 103.

17. “ K a fk a ,” I I , p. 415.

18. Theses on H istory, I, p. 695 (thesis V I) .

19. I, p. 698 (thesis X ).

20. I, p. 699 (thesis X I ) .

21. I, p. 700 (thesis X I I ) .

2 2 .1, p. 694 (thesis I I ) .

23. V , p. 76 (1939 expose).

24. I, p. 697 (thesis V I I I ) .

25. The fairy tale has som ething very specific to do w ith redemption. Benjam in tells us in
“ D er E rzahler” th a t Russian folk belief “ interpreted the Resurrection less as a transfigura­
tion than (in a sense related to the fa iry tale) as a disenchantment” ( I I , pp. 458-59).

26. Theses on H istory, I, p. 702. N ote tha t this criticism was not new in 1904. I t rewords one
o f the earliest Passagen-Werk notes, w hich calls for rejecting the “ once upon a tim e” tha t lulls
one in classical historical na rratio n (V , p. 1033 [0 ° , 71]).

27. Theses on H istory, I, p. 693 (thesis I) , trans. Zohn, Illu m in a tio n s , p. 253.

28. Theses on H isto ry, I, p. 694 (thesis I I ) , trans. (w ith m ino r changes) Zohn, Illu m in a tio n s ,
p. 254.

29. “ D er E rzahler,” I I , p. 458, trans. Zohn, Illum in atio n s , p. 102.

30. V , p. 587 (N 7, 5).

31. V , pp. 490-91 ( K l , 2).

32. V , p. 588 (N7a, 5).

33. V , p. 571 ( N l, 2).

477

Notes to pages 339-340

34. See e.g., Carol Jacobs’ interpretation o f Benjam in in The D issim ulating Harm ony (B a lti­
more: The Johns H opkins U n iversity Press, 1978); also Irv in g W o h lfa rth ’s excellent critique
o f Jacobs in “ W a lte r B enjam in’s ‘ Image o f Interpretation,* ” New German C ritique 17 (spring
1979).

35. D econstruction is a form o f postmodernism, the philosophy o f which, it could be argued,

refers less to a chronological period than an epistemological stance. Whereas modernism in
philosophical terms is wedded to the Enlightenm ent dream o f a substantively rational soci­
ety, postmodernism takes its philosophical lead from Nietzsche, Baudelaire, and Blanqui. I f
the terms are defined this way, Benjam in must be counted as a modernist.

36. Notes to the Theses on H istory, I, p. 1231.

37. V , p. 1046 (a°. 4).

38. V , p. 595 ( N i l , 3).

39. V , p. 592 (N9a, 3).

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W alter Benjam in zu Ehren: Sonderausgabe aus Anlass des 80. Geburtstages von W alter Benjam in am 15.
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Illustration Credits

B am icoat, A Concise H istory o f Posters: 8.2, 8.7.

Bayer, H erbert: 8.4, 8.5.

B ibliotheque Nationale, Paris: 3.3, 3.6, 5.5, 5.6, 9.30.

Bleuel, Hans Peter, Sex and Society in N a zi Germany: 9.23, 9.24.

Blossfeldt, K a rl, CJrformen der Kunst: 5.24, 5.25, 5.26, 5.27.

Courtesy o f Theodor Bruggemann, Collection o f C h ildren’s Literature, U niversity o f C ol­

ogne: 9.2, 9.3.

Buck-M orss, Susan, private collection, 2.2, 9.4.

Caisse N ationale des M onum ents H istoriques et des Sites, Paris (A rch. Phot. Paris/
S .P .A .D .E .M .): 9.21, 9.22.

Le Corbusier: 5.14, 5.15, 5.16, 5.17, 9.6, 9.14, 9.18, 9.31.

Catalogue o f the C iysta l Palace E xposition: 4.2, 5.1, 5.2, 9.5, 9.9, 9.10.

D aum ier, Honore: 5.12, 5.13.

D urer, A lbrech t: 6.6.

Eisenstaedt, A lfred: 8.6.

Evenson, N orm a, P a ris: A Century o f Change: 4.4.

Fourier, Charles: 9.17.

Fuld, W erner, W alter Benjam in: Zwischen den S tiihlen: 5.9 (private collection, G unther Anders).

Geist, Johann Friedrich, Arcades: The H istory o f a B u ild in g Type: 2.1, 2.3, 2.4, 3.5 (M eyer-
Veden).

G icdion, Sigfried, Bauen im Frankreich: 3.7, 5.4, 9.7, 9.8.

486

Illu stra tion Credits

A rch iv Gerstenberg, Wierze: 9.15-

G randville, Un autre monde. Captions by Stanley A pplebaum , B izarreries and Fantasies o f Grand-
v ille : 4.6, 5.3, 5.10, 5.18, 5.19, 5.20, 5.21, 5.22, 5.23.

Guys, Constantin: 9.16.

H eartficld, John, Photomontages o f the N a z i Period : 3.1, 3.2.

Historisches M useum, Frankfu rt am M a in : 9.26, 9.27.

Holsten, Siegmar, AUegorische Darstellungen des Krieges, 1870-1918: 6.5.

In terna tiona l M useum o f Photography at George Eastman House, Rochester, N .Y .: 5.7.

T he Jewish N ational and U niversity L ib ra ry , Jerusalem: 1.4.

Kiersch, Gerhard, et al., B erliner AU tag im dritten Reich : 9.28, 9.34, 9.35, 9.38.

K irch n e r, G ottfried, Fortuna in der D ichtung: 6.1, 6.2.

Klee, Paul: 4.5.

Lacis, Asja, R evolutiondr im B e ru f 1.3.

Lewis, M a rtin (photo by Jon Ries): 9.15.

Le L ivre des expositions universelles: 4.3, 9.33.

Lo rant, Stefan, Sieg H e ill: 6.8, 9.36, 9.37.

Lough, John, and M u rie l Lough, A n Introduction to Nineteenth Century France: 5.11.

Courtesy o f N ils Ole Lu nd, U niversity o f Aarhus, Denm ark: 8.3.

M iro ir du mondey Paris: 9.19.

Musee Cam avalet, Paris: 0.1.

Museum o f M odern A rt, New Y ork: 6.7.

N aylor, G ilian, The Bauhaus Reassessed: 9.11 (V ic to ria and A lb e rt M useum ), 9.12 (Bauhaus
A rc h iv ).

Peterich, Eckart, Gottinnen im Spiegel der K unst: 6.3, 6.4.

Pichois, Claude and Francois Ruchon, Iconographie de Baudelaire: 6.9, 6.10, 6 .H .

Piranesi, G iovanni Battista: 8.1.

R ohw olt V erlag, B erlin: 1.1, 1.2.

Russell, John, P a ris: 9.14 (Sirot-Angel)

Schafer, Hans Dieter, Das gespaltene Bewusstsein: 9.20.

487

Illu stra tion Credits

Sternberger, D olf, Panorama, oder Ansichten vom 19. Jahrh u n dtrt: 3.4.

T a ylo r, R obert R., The W ord in Stone: 9.29.

V ic to ria and A lb e rt Museum, London: 5.8.

W ide W o rld Photos: 9.1, 9.32.

v. Z g lin ic k i, D er Weg des F ilm s: 4.1.

Index
A bram sky, Chim en, 331
A dorno, Theodor W ., 6, 9n, 24, 35, 52, 57,
59, 66-67, 73-74, 77, 120-121, 125, 145,
160, 176-177, 179n, 182, 205, 209, 216-
217, 227-229, 244, 246-247, 265, 280-281,
292, 333
A dvertising, 85, 134, 139, 144, 158, 176, 184,
254-256, 268-269, 272, 278n, 306-307,
309-310
Aesthetics, 18, 55, 125, 145, 222-227, 240,.
289, 303, 339
Agam ben, G iorgio, 206n
A llegory, 18-19, 31-32, 54, 57, 60-61, 160-
201, 209, 211-212, 223-228, 230, 236-237,
239-241,244, 277
A ppleton, Thomas, 81
A rago, Frangois, 132-133, 142
A ragon, Louis, 33-34,60n, 159, 238, 256-
257, 259-261,270, 323
A rb eite r 1llu strie rte Z e itsch rift (W orkers’ Illu s ­
trated Jo u rn a l), 60
Arcades, 3-4, 33-34, 37-38, 40-43, 49, 52, 65-
66,83, 92, 101-102,126, 144, 159, 221,
254, 260n, 271, 273, 275, 277, 292-293,
340
A rchitecture, 33, 39-43, 126-131, 272, 282
l ’a rtp o u r T a rt, 144,195, 195n, 222
A ura , 1 3 0 ,133n, 184, 193-194
A w akening, 36, 39,49, 54, 210-212, 219,
251, 253, 261, 271, 274-275, 279-281, 284-
286, 304, 337
Baader, Franz von, 9n, 23In
Balzac, H onore de, 189, 142, 178
Barricades, 53, 317-320
Barrows, Susanna, 56n
Bassewitz, Jon, 32In
B ataille, George, 206
Baudelaire, Charles, 33,49, 53-54, 57, 96n,
106n, 110, 147, 161, 177-201, 205, 209,
212, 222-225, 239, 276, 283, 289-290, 304,
307, 339n
Bauhaus, 293, 299
Benjam in, Stefan, 8n, 335
Benjam in, W alter, works o f
Arcades project ( Passagen-Werk) exposes, 5,
24,49-50, 52-53, 55, 57, 114-116, 118,
121,124-125, 207-209, 208n, 217-218,
239,250,255,279-281
A rtw o rk essay {“ D as Kunstw erk im Z e ita lte r
seiner technischen Reproduzierbarkeit” ), 49n,
53, 57, 115n, 123, 124n, 142n, 267-268,
308, 326
“ The A u th o r as Producer” ( “ D er A u to r als
Produzent” ), 124n, 137, 321
Baudelaire “ book,” 49-50, 5 4 ,178n, 205-
209,213, 289
Baudelaire essays ( “ D as P aris des Second
Em pire bei Baudelaire ” and “ Uber einige
M otive bei Baudelaire ” ), 49n, 54, 205-209,
213,228,251,305
B e rlin Childhood in 1900 (B e rliner K in d h e it um
1900), 38-39, 278, 279n, 280n
B e rlin Chronicle (B e rlin e r C hronik ), 38-39
“ C entral P ark” (“ Zentralpark :” ), 24, 49n,
209
The Concept o f A rt C riticism in German Roman­
ticism (D e r B e g riff der K u n s tk ritik in der
deutschen R om antik) ,212
“ E duard Fuchs: C ollector and H is to ria n ”
( “ Eduard Fuchs: der Sammler und der H isto r-
i*<rr” ),4 9 n , 288
“ Franz K a fk a ” ( “ Franz K a fk a : Z u r zehnten
W iederkehr seines Todestages” ), 49n, 206n,
246, 273, 276, 282n
“ Goethe,” 32
489
Index
B enjam in, W alter, works o f (cont.)
“ Moscow” { “ M o ska u "), 28-32
Moscow D ia ry ( M oskauer Tagebuch), 30
“ Naples” {“ N eapeC'), 26-27
One Way Street ( Einbahnstrasse), 16-21,23,
64, 290
Proust essay ("Z u m B ild e P ro u st"), 49n
R adio broadcasts, 34-37,49n
“ T h e S toryteller” ( “ D er E rz a h le r"), 336-
337
Surrealism essay ("D e r Surrealism us: D ie
letzte Aufnahm e der europdischen In te llig e n t"),
34, 260-262, 270
Theses on history (“ Uber dm B e g riff der
G eschichte"), 49n, 80, 217-218, 217n, 242,
243n, 247-248, 252, 287-288, 334, 337
Trauerspiel study ( Ursprung des deutschm
Trauerspiels ), 8-9, 15, 21, 54, 57, 59, 72,
160-161,165-179, 212, 221, 225, 228-230,
232, 236, 238, 263
Bcraud, H enri, 307
Bismarck, O tto von, 292n, 328
B lackall, E ric, 7 In
B lanqui, Auguste, 53, 57, 106-107,196, 209,
247, 337, 339n
Bloch, Ernst, 6, 8, 12-13, 22, 114, 231, 250,
278
Blossfeldt, K a rl, 158
B lum , Leon, 292n, 307, 313, 320-322, 324
Bolshevik Revolution, 12, 28-29
Boredom, 33, 49,96, 104-105
Bracquemond, Felix-Joseph-Auguste, 197,
199
Brecht, B ertolt, 6, 14, 24, 3 5 ,49n, 52, 60,.
147-148, 216, 226-228, 245-246, 283,
289n,320n
Breton, Andre, 33-34, 238, 293, 323
Buber, M a rtin , 1In , 28
B iilo w , C hristiane von, 13n
Burger, Peter, 225-227
Casings, 33, 211, 293, 295
Catacombs, 5, 33, 102, 133
Catastrophe, 95-96, 170-171, 201, 242, 330,
337
C haplin, C harlie, 269-270
Chateaubriand, Frangois-Renede, 139
Chevalier, M ichel, 90
C hildhood, 38-39, 261-266,273-280
Cohen, H erm ann, 9n, 16
Cohn (R adt), Jula, 32
C ollective unconscious, 56, 114, 117-120,
130, 243, 246, 272-273, 278-279, 281, 284
Collector, 33, 49, 53, 66, 189, 212, 241
C om m odity
as dialectical image, 211,214-215,221
as fetish, 49, 53, 81, lO ln , 103n, 118-119,
121, 149, 152-155, 179-182, 187-201,211-
212, 228, 241,256, 283-284, 306-307
as poetic object, 209
C om m unism , 12-13, 15, 29, 316n
C om m unist Party, 11,14, 29-31, 33, 36n,
244, 289n, 304n, 320-321
Courbet, Gustav, 187, 324n
Croce, Benedetto, 9n
Cruezer, Friedrich, 236-237, 250
Cubism , 74n, 134
C u ltu ra l revolution, 30, 123-146, 146, 293-
303
Daguerre, Louis-Jacques-Mande, 52, 132n
Dante (D urante A lig h ie ri), 177
D arw in , Charles, 58, 67, 79
D aum ier, Honore, 60n, 147-148, 257
da V in c i, Leonardo, 245
D econstruction, 339
D ialectical fairy scene (dialektische Fern), 33,
34, 49, 54, 271-276, 279-280, 309, 337-338
D ialectical image, 33, 56, 67, 73, 114, 120-
121, 126, 146,170, 176, 185, 209-215, 219-
222, 233, 238, 241, 244-245, 249-250, 261,
280,290-291,337,339
D iderot, Denis, 224
D ioram a, 52, 132
Disney, W a lt, 308n, 340
Dream house, 33, 144, 271, 272n
Dream image, 33, 54, 114-120, 143, 145,
159,211,276, 280-284,337
D ream ing collective, 33, 65, 114-120, 219,
260, 262, 272-273, 281, 285, 309, 312, 337
D ream w orld, 37, 54, 118n, 144,181, 253-
254, 260, 271-272, 275, 278-283, 330
Dumas, Alexandre, 138, 140
D upont, Pierre, 290
D urer, A lbrech t, 170-171
Dust, 49, 50n, 57, 95-96, 221, 228
Ebert, Friedrich, 60, 62
VEcole des beaux arts , 126, 143
VEcolepoly technique, 126, 143
Eiffel Tow er, 6, 74, 76, 85, 130, 256, 295,
328-329
E luard, Paul, 322
Engels, Friedrich, 89n, 105, 218n, 320n
Engineering, 124-130, 143, 149
E nlightenm ent, 220-221, 251, 308, 339n
Espagne, M ichael, 206-207, 209, 210, 213,
287n
E ternal recurrence, 97, 103,106-109, 195-
201,239
Evenson, Nora, 56n
Expressionism, 15, 18n
490
Index
Fabicn, Jacques, 308
Fascism, 27n, 36,60,104, 303-305, 307-309,
311-317,319-322, 337
Fashion, 23 ,3 3 ,3 9 ,4 9 , 56-57,65,96-101,
103, 110, 114, 149, 152-154, 195, 221,239,
271, 274, 276, 293, 302-303, 339
Fichte, Johann G ottlieb, 62
F ilm , 67n, 250, 267-269, 272n
Fitko, Lisa, 331-333
Flaneur, 33, 49,85, 105, 185-187, 205, 212,
228, 304-307,312
Fossil, 56, 160-161,211-212
Fourier, Charles, 49, 52, 97n, 110, 117,
118n, 12 0,154n, 206, 209, 212, 275-276,
303-305, 307, 313, 317n, 321,324, 337,
340
F ra n kfu rt Qohann W olfgang von Goethe)
U niversity, 9, 21-22, 59, 168, 176, 335
F ra n kfu rte r Zeitung , 34
Freud, Sigmund, 253, 256n, 267n, 281-283,
282n
Freund, Gisele, 133n
Friedrich, Hugo, 224
From m , E rich, 28In , 334
Fuchs, Eduard, 98n, 289
Futurism , 145
G am bler (gam bling), 33, 39,49, 57, 96, 104,
212, 228, 240,249
Gas station (gastank), 17,238, 257, 257n,
271n
G autier, Theophile, 142
Geist, Johann F riedrich, 38n, 56n
Giedion, Sigfricd, 35, 85, 126-127, 26In ,
272, 291, 303n
Goethe, Johann W olfgang von, 28, 71-73,
7 7 ,218n
Gramsci, A ntonio, 289
G randville (Jean Ignace Isidore G erard),
33,49, 52, 100, lOOn, 119, 149, 152-156,
158, 206, 208,212, 257, 308
Gropius, W alter, 17, 293
G urland, Henny, 332-333
G urland, Joseph (Jose), 332-335
Habermas, Jurgen, 248, 251
H am an, Johan Georg, 238
Hansen, M iria m , 250n
Hashish, 33n, 50n, I44n, 181, 220
Haussmann, Georges-Eugene, Baron, 33,
53,89-90, 92, 96, 100, 102, 107, 206, 208,
212,313,317-318, 320, 328
H eardield, John, 60-63
Hegel, Georg W ilh elm Friedrich, 9, 36, 146,
149, 160, 210, 219, 272-273, 289n
Heidegger, M a rtin , 3, 6, 9n, 19, 34, 36n, 59
H ell
Baroque conception, 168, 173, 176
nineteenth century as, 49, 53, 57, 96-108,
121, 186-187,196,209n,211,280
Hesscl, Franz, 32, 33n, 38-39, 49, 305
Hieroglyphs, 39,172, 184
H indenburg, Paul von, 60, 62
H istory, theory of, 55-56, 59, 217-222, 240-
245, 243n, 265n, 338-339
H itle r, A dolph, 24, 36, 60, 62, 308, 313-315,
321,325-329, 334
Hofm annsthal, H ugo von, 32
H orkheim er, M ax, 9n, 24, 52, 73, 207, 208,
209, 246n, 334
Hosemann, Theodor, 35
Hugo, V ic to r, 90, 117, 139-140, 290, 308,
324n
Husserl, Edm und, 9n
Impressionism, 134, 269
Innervation, 117, 265n, 290
In stitu te for Social Research ( In s titu tfu r
Sozialforschung ), 6, 9n, 24,49-50, 205, 216-
217
In te rio r, 17, 33, 38-39, 52, 66, 211, 228, 300-
301,303
Interna tiona l W orking m an’s Association,
86-87
Iro n construction, 33, 49, 74, 76, 83, 111,
115, 126-130, 295
Ivernel, Philippe, 32In
Jacobs, C arol, 339n
Jauss, Hans Robert, 223-226, 240
Jennings, M ichael, 13n
Journalism , 18n, 23, 125, 137-144
Judaism , 10, 14, 230, 232, 237, 244
Jugtndbewegung, 12
Jugendstil, 33, 99, 144, 222, 272
Jung, C arl Gustav, 70, 249n, 274, 278, 278n,
312
K abbalah, 23, 229-252, 233n
K afka, Franz, 9n, 60, 276, 286
Kam bas, Chryssoula, 320n
K a n t, Im m anuel, 9
K arp lu s (A dorno), Gretel, 24, 71, 121, 2 lb -
218, 280
K e lly , A lfred , 62n
K ierkegaard, Sorcn, 176, 189n, 196n
K irc h n e r, G ottfried, 164n
K itsch, 33, 261,272, 284
Klagcs, Ludw ig, 9n, 68, 278n
Klee, Paul, 94-95, 265n
Korsch, K a rl, 35, 218n, 242n
Kracauer, Siegfried, 6, 9n, 35, 125n
491___
Index
K raus, K a rl, 18n
K rise und K u ltu r ( C risis and C ulture), 35
K ru ll, Germaine, 71n
Labrouste, H enri, 128-129
Lacis, Asja, 11-12, 14-15, 19, 20-24, 26-28,
30-32, 35,37, 60
Lam artine, Alphonse de, 104, 139-140, 321
Langlois, H yacinthe, 197-198
Language, theory of, 13, 27, 172-173, 229-
230, 235-236, 239-240, 263-264, 266-270,
282n
Le Corbusier (Charles-Edouard Jcanneret),
17,149-151,293,296, 301, 303,305, 313,
317-318, 340
Leibniz, G ottfried W ilh elm , 16
Lenin, V . I., 26
Leon, Moses de, 238
Lieb, F ritz, 320n
Liebknecht, K a rl, 12
Lig h tin g , 33, 92, 27In , 308-311
Literarische W elt (L ite ra ry W o rld ), 34
L ite ra ry theory, 55, 137, 222-228, 240, 247n,
248n, 289
Lotze, H erm ann, 243, 251
Louis-P hilippe, K in g , 52, 96, 209, 209n
Low enthal, Leo, 9n, 23In , 246n
Low y, M ichael, 23In , 247n
Lukacs, Georg, 12n, 35, 68, 70, 70n, 160,
231
Lunacharsky, A natoly, 32n
L u n a , Isaac, 23In , 235
Lu ther, M a rtin , 231
M a lla rm e , Stephane, 222, 224
M a n, Paul de, 224-225
M annequin, 101
Marcuse, H erbert, 9n, 35, 246n
M a rx, 13, 33, 36, 53, 64, 70n, 81,86, 92,
114-116, 118n, 121-125, 132, 146, 149,
179-181, 184, 243, 246-249, 253, 257,
264n, 281-282, 285, 287, 289n, 308
M a rx is t theory, 4,6 ,12-13, 20, 26,125, 127,
160, 175-177, 209, 217-218, 222-223, 231-
232, 237-241, 245-249, 270-271, 274, 281-
282, 289, 338
Mass culture, 121, 145, 190-193,253-286,
307-309,312
M e hring , Franz, 289
M elot, M ichel, 7In
M enninghaus, W infried , 13n, 238n
Messianism, 231, 235, 237, 242-248, 337-338
Metros, 5, 17, 33, 102
M eyron, Charles, 96
M ichelet, Jules, 114, 120
M ickey Mouse, 256n, 308-309
M ille r, M ichael, 56n
Mimesis, 263-270
M irro rs , 33
M odernism , I26n, 130, 149,224, 225, 303,
3 0 9 ,339n
M o d e rn ity, 108-109,181, 210,253, 259-261,
278-279, 293, 336
Mommsen, W olfgang, 253n
Montage, 18, 23,60-63, 67-69, 73-77, 164,
206,218, 222, 225-227
Moses, Robert, 313, 316
M iin z c r, Thomas, 231
M usic, 125n
M u s il, Robert, 35
M y th , 50n, 56, 58, 78-80, 108-109, 110-120,
145-146, 164-168, 175, 182-183, 188, 201,
211, 220-221, 242, 248-249, 251, 253-260,
271-275,277,278, 293
N adar (Felix Tournachon), 133
Napoleon I (Bonaparte), 313, 328
Napoleon I I I (Louis Bonaparte), 89, 140,
308, 325
N ation al Socialism, 62, 323. See also Fascism.
N atu ral history (Naturgeschickte), 55-56, 58-
77, 79-80, 121, 160-161
Nazi-Soviet Non-Aggression Pact, 79, 239n,
247, 324
Neoclassicism, 26, 126-127, 146-149, 183-
184, 256,315-316, 326
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 106n, 107, 107n, 196,
270, 2 8 3 ,339n
N ow -of-rccognition (Jetzt der Erkennbarkeit),
33,219
N ow -tim e {Je tzU e it), 209n, 242, 244, 248,
251,339
O lym p ic Games, 325-326
Panorama, 33, 59, 67, 82, 271
Perspective, 33, 89, 292, 339
Phantasmagoria, 56, 81-82, 89-92, 97, 106-
107, 120-121, 144n, 159, 175,178,182-
183, 191, 211-212, 245, 271, 283-284, 293,
312, 323
Photography, 33, 67n, 68n, 130-135, 143-
144, 157-158
Piaget, Jean, 262-265
Piranesi, G iovanni Battista, 254, 254n
Piscator, E rw in, 14, 35, 60
Plato, 16, 71,77
Plekhanov, George, 87
Pollock (B enjam in), Dora, 8, 8n, 19-21, 24
Pollock, F ritz, 217
Popular Front [fro n tp o p u la ire ), 320-322, 324
Postmodernism, 54, 222, 227, 339n
492
Index
Progress, 56, 79-80, 86-92, 95, 108, 123, 195,
218, 220-221, 235, 243, 243n, 245-246,
251, 263, 265, 274, 286, 289, 323
Prostitute (prostitu tion), 39, 96,101, 104,
176, 184-185, 187, 189-194, 212, 221
Proust, M arcel, 32-33, 38, 3 9 ,65n, 229n,
253, 276, 279
Purdy, Daniel, 13n
Rabinbach, Anson, 1 In , 23 In
Railroads, 33, 89-91, 111, 115, 142
Range, Florens C hristia n, 9n
Ranke, Leopold von, 79n, 218
Redemption (Rettung ), 57, 124, 147, 175,
218,220, 225,229, 231,236-237, 239, 241-
244, 247-248
Redon, O dilon , 33
Reich, Bernhard, 31; 35
Reik, T heodor, 282n
R einhardt, M a x, 60
R evolutionary pedagogy, 4, 14, 34-36, 107n,
218, 287-291
Riazanov, D avid, 86
R ickert, H einrich, 9n
Riefenstahl, Leni, 245, 326
R im baud, A rth u r, 224, 270
Roberts, J ulian , lOn
R omanticism, 212-213, 222, 238, 247, 255-
256
Roosevelt, F ranklin, 313, 321, 322n
Rops, Felicien, 197, 200
Rosenzweig, Franz, 9n
Rousseau, Em ile, 290
R uin, 57, 161, 163-170, 174, 178-179, 197,
211-212,218
Rychner, M a x, 229
Sabbatianism, 23, 234, 237, 238n
Saint-Simon, Claude H e n ri de Rouvroy,
Comte de, 33,118, 282, 313, 322, 324, 340
Saint-Simonianism , 90-91, 93, 323
Salengro, Roger, 307
Scheler, M a x, 16
Schelling, Friedrich W ilh e lm Joseph von,
255, 256n,260n
Schiller-Lerg, Sabine, 34n
Scholem, Gershom, 5-6, 9-14, 20-23, 36-37,
39, 52,212, 229-237, 241, 245, 262-263,
285, 330, 334-335
Schoonovius, Florentius, 161, 163-164
Scribe, Eugene, 137-138
Sheerbart, Paul, 293n
Simmel, Georg, 71-72, 98n, 154n
Sin, as fate, 103-104, 78-79, 177, 187, 240
S m ith, Gary, 9n
Social D arw inism , 58-59, 62
Social D em ocratic P arty, 12, 288, 317n
Souvenir, 4, 33, 188-189, 189n
Soviet culture, 11, 14, 28-30, 123, 137
Spanish C iv il W ar, 317, 319, 321n
Speer, A lbrecht, 315-316, 324, 328
S talin, Joseph, 239n, 2 4 7 ,292n
Sternberger, D olf, 59, 59n, 67
Stierle, K arlhe inz, 224
Strauss, Lu dw ig, 1In
Streets (o fP a ris), 33-34, 304-305
Sue, Eugene, 33, 139
Surrealism, 6, 33-34, 225, 227-228, 238, 253,
256-257, 259-262, 270, 272, 275, 282n, 293
Symbol, 18-19, 166, 168, 236-238, 241, 274,
277, 279
Theology, 10, 13-14, 16, 104, 124, 173-177,
179, 229-252, 229n, 340
Ticdem ann, Rolf, 5, lOn, 7In , 73-74, 206n,
247, 288, 334, 334n
T ikku n, 235,240
Trace. See Fossil.
Transitoriness, 96, 108, 120-121, 146-147,
159-164, 167-170, 173-174,210-211,218,
256,259,277
T rotsky, Leon, 320-321
T u rgo t, Anne-Robert-Jacques, 215
U rbanism , 89-90, 313, 315-318, 328, 340
U r-h istory, 33,47, 56-57, 64, 114, 116, 211,
217-219, 239, 251, 274, 278, 280, 291
U r-im age, 114-117
Ur-phenomenon, 3, 56-57, 71-74, 211, 2 l8 n ,
219
U top ia , 114, 116-117, 118n, 119-120, 124-
125,144-146,159,219,234,237,239,242,
245, 249, 274-276, 279, 282-283, 293, 304,
337, 340
V alery, Paul, 33n, 991,264
W agner, Richard, 255
W ax figures, 33, 96, 228
W eather, 33, 50n, 105
Weber, M ax, 253-254, 264
W eim ar Republic, 9-10, 14, 34, 60, 62, 64
W erner, M ichael, 206-207,209-210, 213,
287n
W iertz, A ntoine Joseph, 33, 60n, 130
W iesenthal, Liselotte, 13n, 173n
W illia m s, Rosalind, 56n
W ish image, 56, 114-118, 120-121, 124, 145-
146,159, 181-182, 211-212, 279,282-283
W itte , Bem d, lOn, I8n
W o h lfa rth , Irv in g , 247n, 27In , 339n
W o lin , R ichard, 40n, 248
493
Index

W o rld expositions, 52,83-86, 129, 132-133,

221,323-325, 328

Zevi, Sabbatai, 235, 237, 238n

Zionism , 11, l l n
Zohar, 238
Zola, Emile, 87n, 88, 159
Studies in Contemporary German Social Thought
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