Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Britton 2011
Britton 2011
Britton 2011
1, 41 – 53
doi:10.1093/fs/knr201
CELIA BRITTON
UNIVERSITY COLLEGE LONDON
Abstract
This article considers two kinds of connection between Leiris and the French
Michel Leiris is known for the close connection between autobiography and eth-
nography that runs through his work. He developed a practice of ethnographic
attention to his own subjectivity, famously becoming an ‘ethnographer of
himself ’; and, conversely, he challenged the idea that the ethnographer must
adopt an impersonal, scientific attitude towards the people whose cultures he
analysed. For Édouard Glissant, this position liberated Leiris from the implicitly
colonial and racist attitudes of most ethnographers; and in the two articles that
he wrote on him, both Glissant’s admiration for Leiris and the congruence
between Leiris’s thought and his own become clear. The first of these articles is
an untitled piece in L’Intention poétique; the second, ‘Repli et dépli’, in Traité du
tout-monde.1 In L’Intention poétique Glissant sees Leiris as bringing to bear on his
1
Édouard Glissant, L’Intention poétique (Paris: Seuil, 1969; repr. Paris: Gallimard, 1997), pp. 121 –29 (first pub-
lished as ‘Michel Leiris, ethnographe’, in Les Lettres nouvelles, 43 (1956), 609 –21); ‘Repli et dépli’, in Traité du tout-
monde: poétique IV (Paris: Gallimard, 1997), pp. 128 –38. For a useful account of the chapter in L’Intention poétique
see Christina Kullberg, ‘Fieldwork and Fiction: Ethnography and Literature in the French Caribbean’
# The Author 2012. Published by Oxford University Press on behalf of the Society for French Studies.
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42 CELIA BRITTON
Leiris wrote a preface to the 1950 edition of Afrique fantôme in which he is extre-
mely critical of the attitude he adopted in the text. At the time, he writes, he was
disappointed by ethnography because ‘une science humaine reste une science et
l’observation détachée ne saurait, à elle seule, amener le contact’ (AF, p. 8); and
his desire for contact with African culture led him into ‘un fallacieux essai de se
faire autre en effectuant une plongée — d’ailleurs toute symbolique — dans une
“mentalité primitive” dont j’éprouvais la nostalgie’ (p. 9). But, he argues, this
dichotomy between neutral science and fantasized identification with the other
turns out to be false; and he has been able to surmount it through his political
commitment to the decolonization movements that had not existed in the 1930s
but are now springing up in the aftermath of the Second World War. His friend-
ship with Aimé Césaire, whom he has known since 1946, has also been influen-
tial in this regard.7 As a result, his position is now, he claims, very different;
rather than attempting to achieve a ‘communion purement formelle’, his goal is
‘une solidarité effective avec des hommes qui ont une claire conscience de ce
qu’il y a d’inacceptable dans leur situation et mettent en œuvre pour y rémédier
les moyens les plus positifs’ (p. 9) — men, in other words, who are actively
struggling to change their situation in what Glissant termed ‘le drame du
monde’.
In fact there is considerably more continuity between the two stages than
Glissant, who comments in some detail on the preface (IP, pp. 126 – 27), and
Leiris himself suggest — and, therefore, more overlap between political commit-
ment and psychological fulfilment. The common factor is Leiris’s need to partici-
pate in the culture he is investigating, which from the start takes precedence over
what he calls ‘abstract knowledge’. In Afrique fantôme, certainly, the participation
takes the form of possession in ‘Zar’ seances in Ethiopia, and an erotic obses-
sion with Emawayish, the woman involved in the seances — as in his often
6
Michel Leiris, L’Afrique fantôme (Paris: Gallimard, 1981), p. 159. Originally published in 1934 (Paris:
Gallimard), this work was republished in 1950 and 1981, each time with a new preface. In references, L’Afrique
fantôme will be designated ‘AF’; page numbers apply to the 1981 publication and will be given in the text.
7
Denis Hollier, in his ‘Notice’ to the Pléiade edition of Leiris’s Fourbis, emphasizes the impact that meeting
Césaire had on the author’s realization of the necessity of a political engagement with colonized societies
(Michel Leiris, La Règle du jeu, ed. by Denis Hollier and others (Paris: Gallimard, 2003), p. 1402).
44 CELIA BRITTON
quoted remark: ‘J’aimerais mieux être possédé qu’étudier les possedés, connaı̂tre
charnellement une “zarine” que connaı̂tre scientifiquement ses tenants et abou-
tissants, la connaissance abstraite ne sera jamais qu’un pis-aller’ (AF, p. 324). But
some of Leiris’s later writings also contain very similar statements of the value
of this purely emotional involvement: in his review of Tristes tropiques, for
instance, published in 1956, he emphasizes approvingly how, even for the theor-
etically minded Lévi-Strauss, the Nambikwara represent ‘le moment heureux du
livre (son moment idyllique, parce qu’il semble que le contact de cette popu-
lation [. . .] lui a fourni une manière d’équivalent de ce vert paradis des amours
enfantines à quoi Baudelaire rêvait nostalgiquement’;8 and, in the speech he made
on the occasion of Alfred Métraux’s death in 1963, he used the same quotation
There is, therefore, something slightly facile about the very clarity with which
the 1950 preface converts identificatory phantasy into political solidarity with the
colonized, and about the assumption that the latter automatically absolves Leiris
from the charge of narcissism. Now, he modestly claims, his perspective is one
of ‘très simple camaraderie’ (AF, p. 9) with the colonized in their struggle for
liberation. But decolonization, in fact, offered him a personal emotional liber-
ation: according to Césaire, ‘[i]l a véritablement vibré à la décolonisation’.11 It is
as though the discovery of political solidarity immediately releases him from all
8
Michel Leiris, ‘À travers Tristes tropiques’ (1956), repr. in Cinq études d’ethnologie (Paris: Denoël, 1969; repr.
Paris: Gallimard, 1988), pp. 113 –27 (p. 119, emphases original).
9
Michel Leiris, ‘Regard vers Alfred Métraux’ (1963), repr. in ibid., pp. 129 –37 (p. 134).
10
Seán Hand emphasizes the degree of political commitment already evident in Afrique fantôme, referring to
its ‘moral and political embarquement and témoignage’ and arguing that it ‘exposes the imperialist legacy and neo-
colonialist maintenance of power-relations deeply ingrained in the assumptions and aims of this African
Mission’ (S. Hand, Michel Leiris: Writing the Self (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), p. 55). Sally
Price, similarly, defines Afrique fantôme as ‘even today, the strongest French anthropological critique of colonial-
ism in Africa’ (S. Price, ‘Michel Leiris, French Anthropology and a Side-Trip to the Antilles’, French Politics,
Culture and Society, 22.1 (2004), 23 –35 (p. 28)).
11
‘Aimé Césaire et Roger Toumson’, p. 74. There is no element of criticism in Césaire’s emphasis on the sig-
nificance of decolonization for Leiris, but he does make its emotional naivety very clear: ‘Il a été témoin de la
naissance d’un monde nouveau, un monde qui dépasse l’Europe et qu’il veut et qu’il souhaite être le monde de
la redécouverte de l’homme par lui-même: le monde de la découverte d’une véritable fraternité, un monde
perdu de bonté, de beauté et de tendresse’ (ibid.).
ETHNOGRAPHY AS RELATION: MICHEL LEIRIS 45
his problems of alienation. In other words, the transition from the first to the
second phase looks rather less like a substantial change of attitude and more like
a kind of sublimation:12 political commitment is simply the ‘sublimated’ version
of the original desire for identification and participation.13 A second preface, the
‘Préambule’ that Leiris wrote for the 1981 edition of Afrique fantôme, lends
support to this interpretation. With a distinctly ironic detachment, he comments
not only on the original text of 1934 but also on the 1950 preface, analyses his
motives in 1950, and strongly implies that he was opportunistically taking advan-
tage of the decolonizing movement in order that contact with ‘le monde noir’
could become a reality for him rather than the ‘fantôme’ that it had been in
And the irony becomes even more evident when he lists the ‘buts tonifiants que
[. . .] j’assignais à l’ethnographie quelques années après la dernière guerre’ (p. 4).
This does not invalidate either the effectiveness or the sincerity of Leiris’s pol-
itical commitment, which certainly brought about a new emphasis in his view of
the discipline of ethnography in which the ethnographer’s political responsibility
to the colonized was central. But Glissant’s comment that in the 1950 autocritique
Leiris ‘réconcilie recherche de soi et recherche de l’autre, les posant solidairement
après avoir cessé de les confondre’ (IP, p. 127) is an oversimplification. Rather, it
is that the political and the personal — the selfless, responsible action in support
of the colonized, and the self-serving phantasy of becoming one with them — are
for Leiris intertwined in quite complex ways, as I shall attempt to show in the
latter part of this article.
The ideas on which the second, more mature, version of subjective ethnogra-
phy were to be based were elaborated in ‘L’Ethnographe devant le colonialisme’,
which first appeared in Les Temps modernes in 1950, and Race et civilisation, pub-
lished in 1951 as part of a UNESCO project on ‘La Question raciale devant la
12
The definition of Freudian sublimation given by Laplanche and Pontalis is: ‘La pulsion est dite sublimée
dans la mesure où elle est dérivée vers un nouveau but non sexuel et où elle vise des objets socialement
valorisés’ (J. Laplanche and J.-B. Pontalis, Vocabulaire de la psychanalyse (Paris: Presses universitaires de France,
1968), p. 465). I am not suggesting that Leiris’s identification with the colonized is a sexual drive in the
Freudian sense, but the process that it undergoes is strikingly similar to the mechanism of sublimation.
13
Evidence for this view is provided by entries in Leiris’s diary after his 1945 trip to the Ivory Coast, in
which he expresses his affective disillusionment with Africa: ‘Mon dernier voyage en Côte d’Ivoire et Gold
Coast, qui m’a si fort déplu parce que je refaisais quelque chose à quoi je ne croyais plus. Me sentir “engagé”
vis-à-vis des Nègres, pour qui je n’ai plus cette enfantine sympathie que j’avais quand j’ai fait la mission
Dakar-Djibouti’ (quoted by Hollier in Leiris, La Règle du jeu, p. 1402). This suggests that the move from
emotional to political involvement was itself motivated as much by the loss of a phantasy as by a principled pol-
itical commitment.
46 CELIA BRITTON
14
science moderne’. The latter, rather unusually for Leiris but befitting the series
in which it appears, places considerable emphasis on anthropology’s scientific
status as a weapon in the battle against racism: anthropology can prove that there
is no such thing as a racially pure society (RC, pp. 12, 17), so that stressing its
scientific credentials strengthens the argument.15 At the same time, however,
Leiris quite overtly equates racism with colonialism — a controversial position
at the beginning of the 1950s — and often departs from his neutral, impersonal
style to attack it with angry irony.16 Most importantly, he formulates the idea
that anthropology cannot be entirely objective because the anthropologist is
inevitably conditioned by his or her own culture: ‘Nos idées sur la culture étant
elle-mêmes partie intégrante d’une culture (celle de la société à laquelle nous
contact with primitive societies had more to do with his own psychological
needs — the need to escape the confines of his own identity, to lose himself in
possession, and so on — than with furthering his ethnographic research.21 This,
indeed, was one of the reasons for abandoning it in favour of political solidarity
with the colonized and the construction of a politically responsible ethnography.
I have interpreted this shift as a kind of sublimation of the original desire; and
the sublimated version, the ‘relational’ ethnography inaugurated in 1950, still
entails a certain conception of subjectivity. It is not merely a set of professional
techniques but an attitude of respect, openness, and solidarity towards people
whose cultures are different from our own — and hence also a certain con-
ception of personal identity: the earlier simple identification with the other gives
31
In the Introduction to Contacts he refers to them as ‘amis aujourd’hui des plus chers que j’ai rencontrés lors
de mon séjour de 1948’ (p. 12).
32
Leiris, Contacts de civilisations en Martinique et en Guadeloupe, p. 176.
33
Ibid., p. 12.
34
Aimé Césaire, Discours sur le colonialisme (Paris: Réclame, 1950; Paris and Dakar: Présence africaine, 1955). In
the 1955 version of the text Césaire also supports his friend’s vision of ethnography. He defends Leiris against
Roger Caillois’s attack on Race et civilisation for its opposition to the idea of a hierarchy of cultures (p. 48); and
he parodies Caillois’s dismissal of the idea of native ethnographers: ‘C’est l’Occident qui fait l’ethnographie des
autres, non les autres qui font l’ethnographie de l’Occident’ (p. 52). Roger Caillois’s article is ‘Illusion à
rebours’, Nouvelle revue française, 24 (1954), 1014, 1017–18; 25 (1955), 58, 67 –68.
35
‘Aimé Césaire et Roger Toumson’, p. 74.
52 CELIA BRITTON
However — in another typical twist of the relation between the political and
the personal — this also means that the aspiration expressed in ‘L’Ethnographe
devant le colonialisme’ of making ethnography into a genuinely intersubjective
partnership (a ‘relation’, in other words) between Western and non-Western
researchers can perhaps be realized. In a lecture he gave in Paris in 1949 Leiris
stated that one of the aims of his 1948 visit to Martinique and Guadeloupe was
to ‘prendre contact avec les intellectuels antillais en vue du développement de la
recherche ethnologique dans les Antilles françaises’;36 and he went on to
recount how he had discussed with the ‘Groupe d’études martiniquais’ (an
association ‘dont font partie plusieurs membres du corps enseignant et des pro-
fessions libérales’) the possibility of the Musée de l’Homme helping them to
36
Michel Leiris, ‘Perspectives culturelles aux Antilles françaises et en Haı̈ti’, lecture given on 4 March 1949 to
the Centre d’études de politiques étrangères; published in Michel Leiris: le siècle à l’envers, ed. by
Marmande, pp. 45 –67 (p. 45).
37
Ibid., p. 49.
38
Ibid., p. 57.
39
Leiris was clearly charmed by the Antillean practice of giving to road vehicles the same kind of poetic
names as to fishing boats.
40
Alliette Armel, Michel Leiris (Paris: Fayard, 1997), p. 495.
ETHNOGRAPHY AS RELATION: MICHEL LEIRIS 53
‘semi-colonized’ countries, and organize their work in accordance with the
latter’s perception of priorities. Compared with Africa, in any case, the Antilles
certainly offered far greater potential for the development of ethnographic or
quasi-ethnographic ‘relations’ with European intellectuals.
From the late 1940s onwards, then, Leiris’s work was significantly influenced
by his friendship with Antillean intellectuals, above all with Césaire, and by the
new intellectual and emotional satisfactions that his contact with the Antilles had
given him. Glissant belongs to a later generation, and in his case the influence
goes in the opposite direction; but, as one of the most perceptive readers of
Leiris, he also forms part of the nexus of ‘contacts’ linking Leiris with the
French Caribbean. In this article I have tried to show how the (inter)subjective