Download as pdf or txt
Download as pdf or txt
You are on page 1of 285

The A rchitecture o f D econstruction:

D errida’s H aunt

M ark Wigley

The M IT Press Cambridge, Massachusetts London, England


F ifth p rin tin g , 1997
First M IT Press paperback edition, 1995
© 1993 M IT Press

M l rights reserved. No part o f this book may be reproduced in any form by any elec­
tronic o r mechanical means (in clud in g photocopying, recording, o r inform ation stor­
age and retrieval) w ithout permission in w riting from the publisher.

This book was p rin te d and bound in the U nited States o f America.

Library o f Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Wigley, Mark.
The architecture o f deconstruction : D errida’s haunt / M ark Wigley.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-262-23170-0 (HB), 0-262-73114-2 (PB)
1. Deconstruction (Architecture) 2. D errida, Jacques—Philosophy.
I. T itle.
NA682.D43W54 1993
720'. 1—dc20 93-10352
CIP
For Beatriz and Andrea
Any house is a far too complicated, clumsy, fussy, mechanical counter­
fe it o f the human body . . . The whole in te rio r is a kind o f stomach
that attempts to digest objects . . . The whole life o f the average house,
it seems, is a sort o f indigestion. A body in ill repair, suffering indispo­
sition—constant tin kering and doctoring to keep it alive. It is a marvel,
we its infesters, do n o t go insane in it and w ith it. Perhaps it is a form
o f insanity we have to put in it. Lucky we are able to get something else
out o f it, thought we do seldom get out o f it alive ourselves.

— Frank Lloyd W right


‘T he Cardboard House,” 1931.
Contents

Preface xi

1 The Translation o f Deconstruction 1


2 U nbuilding Architecture 35

3 The Slippery A rt o f Space 59


4 The Domestication o f the House 97

5 Throwing Up Architecture 123

6 Doing the Twist 149

7 Dislocating Space 177

In-Conclusion 205

Notes 221
References 263
Index 273
Preface

In 1985 the architect Bernard Tschumi called Jacques Derrida


with an invitation. Architecture called on philosophy. For what?
Philosophy? Not simply. The philosopher was asked i f he would
be interested in collaborating w ith an architect on the design o f
a section o f the Parc de la Vilktte in Paris, a project that already
had its own “design-philosophy” and even presented itself as
being no more than this philosophy, a conceptual structure
rather than a single material form . But clearly the architect
thought that something was missing, that there was some kind o f
gap in the argument that could be fille d by a philosopher, an
opening that could be exploited, some kind o f pocket w ithin
which another discourse could be elaborated. So Derrida was
invited into the space o f the project, and hence the space o f
architecture, which is not yet to say an architectural space.
The philosopher accepted the invitation and soon wrote an
essay about the project entided Point de folie—maintenant Varchi-
tecture in which the architect’s material is at once incorporated,
rearranged, and extended, or, rather, the essay inhabits the ar­
chitect’s material; teasing, testing, tasting, but n o t judging. In no
way presenting its e lf as criticism , the text, in a kind o f strategic
transference, assumes the form o f what it describes. It both
rehearses many o f the architect’s arguments and literally begins
to shape itself according to the spatial logic o f the architectural
design in order to articulate the somewhat uneasy relationship
between a certain kind o f thinking and a certain kind o f space.
x ii
Preface

Architecture appears to emerge for the first time as a distinct


subject in D errida’s w riting. After twenty years, he turns to archi­
tecture— or so it would seem.
The essay was first published in the architect’s 1986 collection
o f drawings o f the project and then in the philosopher’s 1987
collection o f essays, which includes other writings on architec­
ture. By then Derrida was collaborating with the architect Peter
Eisenman in the detailed design o f a particular section o f the La
V illette project. He was occupying all the spaces o f that architec­
ture: legal, philosophical, technical, methodological, political,
and interpersonal, to name but a few, in addition to what is
traditionally considered to be the physical site and whatever
m ight be projected onto it or from i t
In accepting the invitation, Derrida’s work changed the archi­
tecture it occupied in a number of ways, each of which need to
be carefully traced through their various complications and im­
plications. But equally, his writing was changed by this occupa­
tion, even if it was such a brief stopover in what has become an
extended itinerary through so many different discourses. The
perceived lim its o f both architecture and philosophy were dis­
turbed by a convoluted exchange that, like most designs, took
the form o f an extended negotiation. Long after the design was
completed, this negotiation is still going on and is opening up
on several new fronts. Some o f the negotiated changes were
temporary and the respective institutional spaces have already
been restored and their furniture rearranged to accommodate
fam iliar assumptions, but other spaces are, as they say, just not
the same.
Spurred by this event, a vigorous discourse has developed
around the question o f “deconstruction and architecture” involv­
ing many names from both inside and outside the traditional
institutional lim its o f architecture and philosophy. Just as a num­
ber o f architectural theorists have turned to “deconstructive”
theory, theorists o f deconstruction have increasingly turned to
“architecture.” A m ultiplicity of exchanges have taken place:
conferences, exhibitions, essays, special issues o f journals, books,
reviews, interviews, newspaper articles, editorials, debates, letters
to the editor, published correspondence, dissertations, research
grants, fellowships, architectural projects, architectural criticism,
x iii
Preface

interdisciplinary collaborations, academic appointments and dis­


appointments, and various forms o f censorship. In these ongoing
transactions, more aspects o f the respective institutions have
been consolidated than have been displaced, and even then
some o f those displacements have themselves been subsequently
institutionalized according to the a ll too fam iliar economy o f
domestication. But still, I th in k a lo t o f im portant work has been
done. The philosophers have had a lo t to say to the architects
and the architects have had a few surprises fo r the philosophers.
Everyone has had to th in k again, and then again. The effects o f
this rethinking are considerable, if not obvious.
It is not possible to sift through all this m aterial here, tracing
the elaborate weave o f heterogeneous trajectories to adequately
address the question o f “deconstruction and architecture.” My
only concern w ill be to trace some o f the preconditions fo r this
engagement, conditions that both made it possible and pro­
duced the sense o f an event inasmuch as they are variously
brought to the surface, suppressed, or displaced.
Immediately, it must be noted that this discourse, which began
w ith the question o f deconstruction and architecture and has
developed in recent years into other questions in which the word
“deconstruction” plays no role, did not simply emerge out o f the
public event o f D errida’s involvement in a specific design project
On the one hand, several projects o f reading D errida’s work
w ithin architectural discourse were already highly developed and
would become increasingly nuanced. On the other hand, the
question o f architecture did not simply emerge in D errida’s work
w ith his first essay “about” architecture. His w riting already de­
pended on a certain thinking o f architecture that even surfaces
in the word “deconstruction.” So it is necessary to step back, to
retrace some steps and identify the role o f architecture in Der­
rida’s w riting before his apparent tu rn to i t The earlier texts
need to be reread to locate the architecture that is w ritten into
them and cannot be detached, the architecture that makes those
texts possible and, indeed, makes the eventual tu rn to architec­
ture possible, even i f that tu rn ignores or transforms i t
A t the very least, this involves patiently tracing an interm ittent
subtext inscribed w ith in D errida’s texts and follow ing its indis­
tin ct and often circuitous trajectories. I t requires a close atten-
XIV
Preface

tion to the letter o f those texts, citing, reciting, repeating, and


rehearsing them—not by following their more obvious lines o f
argument, but by locating one o f the threads that passes between
them and unpicking it see what it holds together, exploring the
unique way in which the visible pattern and strength o f D errida’s
w riting is maintained by this rarely visible and seemingly tenuous
architectural thread.
To step back into Derrida’s work to address this question w ill
be, at the same time, to step back into the writings o f M artin
Heidegger, not only because Heidegger is perhaps the most
rigorous thinker o f the relationship between philosophy and
architecture, but also because D errida’s work is itself an incessant
stepping back into Heidegger, and perhaps more than anything
else, it is a stepping back into Heidegger’s account o f the neces­
sity o f such a stepping back, an account that is itself presented
in architectural terms. And this return to Heidegger needs to be
made precisely when it m ight seem riskiest, given the current
reexaminations o f his association with National Socialism. But
these revisions make the return even more necessary here and
now because, as I have argued elsewhere, the question o f archi­
tecture is im plicated in them at every tu rn .1
Finally, and more personally, this book is another kind o f
stepping back inasmuch as it is a reworking o f my doctoral thesis
entitled ‘Jacques Derrida and Architecture: The Deconstructive
Possibilities o f Architectural Discourse,” which is a reading o f the
architectural argument embedded w ithin D errida’s work before
he addressed architecture as such. When I began to write it in
the splendid, i f not monastic, isolation o f New Zealand, architects
were not yet interested in deconstruction and deconstructive
writers were not yet interested in architecture, and such an in ­
terdisciplinary exchange seemed an improbable and overdeter­
m ined fantasy, which in some im portant sense it still is and w ill
necessarily remain so. The thesis was finally submitted in 1986 to
the University o f Auckland precisely at the tim e that Derrida had
ju st started to engage w ith architecture. I subsequendy became
involved in many o f the different kinds o f event that have con­
stituted the lively international debate around the question o f
deconstruction and architecture. In returning to the thesis, I am
XV
Preface

leaving this debate behind, including D errida’s im portant con­


tributions to it, in order to reconstruct my original argument, to
put it on record, as it were, and to elaborate it by following its
course through other texts that D errida has subsequently pub­
lished.
Despite the fact that deconstructive discourse has started to
speak about architecture, I have rigidly, i f not perversely, main­
tained my focus on the architecture embedded in that discourse
before it does so. I hope this self-imposed restriction, whose
brutality to the complex rhythms and nuances o f the discourse
cannot be overestimated, opens that discourse to some possibili­
ties it currendy resists or masks. I hope its very narrowness
constitutes some kind o f opening.

Earlier versions o f parts o f this text were originally published in


the journals Perspecta 23 and Assemblage 8, and the collection
Deconstruction and the Visual Arts: A rt, Media, and Architecture. My
thanks to the respective editors fo r their criticism . I would also
like to thank Melissa Vaughn fo r her sensitive editing; Mike
Austin and G ill Mathewson, w ithout whom I could not have
finished the original thesis in New Zealand; and my colleagues
and students at Princeton University, who since then have helped
to construct a space fo r my work.
Above all, I w ill always be indebted to Beatriz Colomina fo r
her intellectual and emotional support, litde o f which is de­
served.
1
The Translation o f
D econstruction

How then to translate deconstruction in architectural discourse?


Perhaps it is too late to ask this prelim inary question. What is
le ft to translate? Or, more im portant, what is always le ft by trans­
lation? Not just le ft behind, but le ft specifically fo r architec­
ture. What remains o f deconstruction fo r architecture? What are
the remains that can be located only in architecture, the last
resting place o f deconstruction? The question o f translation is
always, after all, a question o f survival. Can deconstruction sur­
vive architecture?
It is now over twenty years since D errida’s firs t books were
published. Suddenly his work has started to surface in architec­
tural discourse. This appears to be the last discourse to invoke
the name o f Jacques Derrida. Its reading seems the most distant
from the original texts, the fin a l addition to what is by now a
colossal tower o f interpretations, an addition to what has become
a disconcertingly stable monum ent to instability, an addition that
marks in some way the beginning o f the end o f deconstruction,
its lim it if not its closure.
A fter such a long delay—a hesitation whose strategic necessity
must be examined here—there is such a haste to read Derrida
in architectural discourse. But it is a reading that seems at once
obvious and suspect—suspect in its very obviousness. Deconstruc­
tion is understood to be unproblem atically architectural. There
seems to be no translation, ju st a metaphoric transfer, a straight­
forw ard application o f theory from outside architecture to the
2_________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

practical domain o f the architectural object. The hesitation does


not seem to have been produced by some kind o f internal resis­
tance on the part o f that object. On the contrary, there is no
evidence o f work, no task fo r the translator, no translation—ju st
a literal application, a transliteration. Architecture is understood
as a representation o f deconstruction, the material repre­
sentation o f an abstract idea. The reception o f D errida’s work
seems to follow the classical trajectory from idea to material
form , from in itia l theory to fin a l practice, from the presence o f
a thought to its representation. Architecture, supposedly the
most material o f the discourses, seems the most removed from
the original work, the most suspect o f the applications, the last
application, the representational ornam ent that cannot in ­
fluence the substantial tradition it is added to, a veneer masking
more than it reveals o f the structure beneath. The last layer, ju st
an addition, no translation. Yet.
But how to translate? Architecture can never simply be an
addition inasmuch as the idea o f addition is itself architectural.
And deconstruction is no more than a subversion o f the archi­
tectural logic o f addition that sets in play a certain kind o f
thinking about translation. One cannot simply address transla­
tion before, outside, or above either deconstruction or architec­
ture. The question immediately becomes complicated. There is
no hygienic starting point, no superior logic to apply, no p rinci­
ples to be found in some domain that governs both deconstruc-
tive discourse and architectural discourse. Nevertheless, certain
exchanges are already occurring between them. Architecture,
translation, and deconstruction are already bound together,
defining a curious economy whose pathological symptoms can
be studied; it becomes a m atter o f identifying the logic o f trans­
lation already in operation.
Because there is no safe place to begin, one can only enter this
ongoing economy and begin to trace its convoluted geometry.
This can be done here by locating those points in each discourse
at which the others are made thematic, however fleetingly or
partially—points where the other comes to the surface. The lines
o f argument that surface there are threads that can be forcefully
pulled to see where gaps appear elsewhere in the discourse,
3__________________
Constructive Abuse

m arking covert levels o f entangled relationships that bind su­


perficially discrete areas. These hidden layers are not simply
below the surface but are w ithin the surface itself, knotted to­
gether to form its texture. To locate them involves a kind o f
sideways slippage along barely visible fa u lt lines rather than the
traditional scholarly labor o f excavation. As there is nothing
above or below the convoluted folds o f the surface, it is a matter
o f following some circular line o f inquiry, passing round and
round the same small set o f themes, circulating obsessively w ithin
the economy being read—w ithin, that is, the surface itself.

Constructive Abuse

The question o f translation most conspicuously surfaces in de-


constructive discourse when D errida’s “Des Tours des Babel,”
follow ing Walter Benjam in’s 1923 essay “The Task o f the Trans­
lator,” argues that translation is n o t the transmission, reproduc­
tion, or image o f an original meaning that preceded it.1 On the
contrary, the very sense o f something original is but an effect o f
translation, the translation actually producing what it appears to
simply reproduce.
A text, as Benjamin puts it, “calls fo r” a translation that estab­
lishes a nostalgia fo r the purity, plenitude, and life it never had.
In answering this call, the translation necessarily abuses the text,
transforming rather than transm itting i t 2 There is some kind o f
gap in the structure o f the text that the translation is called in
to cover, to cover precisely by forcing it open even further to
liberate what is hidden w ithin that structure. A text is never an
organic, unified whole. It is already corrupted, already fissured,
inhabited by something “alien.” A translation is not simply a
departure from the original that is either violent or faithful, as
the original is already internally divided, exiled from itself. N ot
only is no text ever w ritten in a single language, but each lan­
guage is itself fractured. Languages and texts are necessarily
im pure. Always divided, they remain irreducibly foreign to them­
selves. It is the translation that produces the myth o f purity and,
in so doing, subordinates itself as im pure. In constructing the
original as original, it constructs itse lf as secondary, putting itself
4
The Translation o f Deconstruction

into exile from the very space that it produces. The supplemen­
tary translation that appears to be a violation o f the purity o f the
work is actually the possibility o f that very sense o f purity. Its
violence to the text is therefore a kind o f violent fidelity, a
violence called for by the text precisely to construct itself as pure.
The abuse o f the text is called fo r because o f an abuse already
going on w ithin that text. The translation actually exploits this
internal conflict in order to present the original as unified; the
conflict becomes the basis o f its own effacemenL
Furthermore, as Benjamin argues, this faithfully abusive trans­
formation also involves a certain violence to the language o f the
translation. Just as the translator must break open the language
o f the text to “liberate” what is “imprisoned” w ithin it, the trans­
lation must equally “break through the decayed barriers” o f its
own language.3 What is liberated from the text is not some fixed
meaning, but a “state o f flu x ” as “alien” to the language o f the
translation that releases it as to the text that concealed i t Both
languages normally attempt to conceal this unstable movement.
Indeed, the concealment constitutes the basic “kinship” that
exists between languages that otherwise appear foreign to each
other, the “central reciprocal relationship between languages” by
which, in the end, they “are not strangers to one another.”4 They
only appear foreign to each other inasmuch as they each repress
this instability to produce the effect o f languages w ith discrete,
delimited identities. In the end, it is actually the translation itself
that becomes “overpowering and alien”5 as it releases that which
is normally imprisoned and distorts the apparently secure iden­
tity o f each language. Consequently, a text neither lives n o r dies
in translation. It does not have some original life-giving intention
invested in it by an author, whose presence is either simply
revived or substituted by a dead sign. Rather, it “lives on,” it
“survives” in a kind o f spectral “afterlife” at a different level
than it had before because something buried w ithin has been
released.
In elaborating Benjamin’s argument about the basic kinship
between languages that seem foreign to each other, D errida
argues that this “survival” [ Uberieben or Fortleben] o f a text in its
translation is organized by an unusual kind o f contract that
5__________________
Constructive Abuse

ensures that translation is never completed nor completely frus­


trated.6 The contract sustains the necessarily u n fu lfille d promise
o f translation, defining a scene o f incom plete translation, an
incom pletion that binds the languages o f the original and trans­
lation in a strange knot, a double bind. Such a convoluted but
constitutional bond is not like the negotiable social contracts that
appear to organize each language, nor is it the fixed pre-social
contract that transcends and coordinates each language
dreamed o f by so much o f the philosophical tradition. Neither
cultural nor acultural, such contracts exceed cultural transac­
tions without sim ply being outside them. Each visible negotiable
contract that organizes a particular language presupposes such
a hidden contract that makes discourse possible, establishing the
overt differences between languages while making certain covert
exchanges between them not only possible but inevitable.
Such a translation contract is not independent o f the different
languages whose economy it organizes. It is always inscribed
w ithin them, albeit obliquely. The visible gap between languages
actually passes through each one. And not only is each “original”
already divided, b u t translation is occurring across those divi­
sions. It is only inasmuch as each is always divided, inhabited by
the other and constantly negotiating w ith it, that translation is
possible.7 In fact, it is the less visible translation going on w ithin
a language that makes any visible translation between it and a
language outside it possible, which is to say that one language is
never simply outside the other. Translation occurs across a gap
folded within rather than simply between each language. The
fissures that divide any text are actually folds that bind them to
that which appears to be outside them, and it is precisely these
folds that constitute the texts as such, producing the very sense
o f an inside and an outside that they subvert. In the end, the
contract is no m ore than the strange geometry o f these folds, the
convoluted organization o f the cracks that structure a discourse.
In these terms, any translation between deconstruction and
architecture does n o t simply occur between the texts o f philo­
sophical discourse and those o f architectural discourse. Rather,
it occupies and organizes both discourses. W ithin each there is
at least an ongoing architectural translation o f philosophy and a
6_________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

philosophical translation o f architecture. To translate decon­


struction in architectural discourse is not, therefore, to faithfully
recover some original undivided sense o f deconstruction.8
Rather, it must be one o f the abuses o f D errida’s texts that
constitutes them as originals. To translate deconstruction in ar­
chitectural discourse is to examine the gaps in deconstructive
discourse that demand an architectural translation in order to
constitute those texts as deconstructive in the first place. The
architectural translation o f deconstruction, which appears to be
the last-minute, last-gasp application, turns out to be part o f the
very production o f deconstructive discourse from the beginning,
an ongoing event organized by the terms o f an ancient contract
between architecture and philosophy that is inscribed w ithin the
structure o f both discourses. And to think o f such a contract here
w ill not only be to think o f architecture as the possibility o f
deconstruction, but likewise to th in k o f deconstruction as the
possibility o f architecture.
In the end, to translate deconstruction here w ill be to unearth
what it is o f architecture that both philosophical and architec­
tural discourse attempt to bury and yet depend on: the irreduc­
ible strangeness o f architecture that must be concealed by a
range o f institutional practices central to both discourses and yet
also protected by them because its survival is actually th e ir very
possibility—no matter how much they disavow its existence. In ­
deed, it is precisely the intensity and repetition o f the disavowals
that marks its structural role. To exhume these repressed quali­
ties o f architecture w ill necessarily render the very fam iliarity o f
these discourses forever strange. This w ill tu rn out to be at once
a question o f the strange architecture that haunts the discourses
that work so hard to entomb it and o f the strange architecture
o f the tomb they construct fo r it.

The E difice Com plex Revisited

A prelim inary sketch o f this haunting scene o f translation can


be drawn here by developing M artin Heidegger’s account o f the
idiosyncratic relationship between architecture and philosophy.
A certain thinking o f architecture is central to Heidegger’s work.
7______________________________
The Edifice Complex Revisited

It is not that he simply theorizes architecture as such, but that


theorizing is itse lf understood in architectural terms. As is well
known, one the most famous o f his later essays, “Building, Dwell­
ing, Thinking,”9 litera lly identifies thinking with building. In fact,
this identification is already w ritten into his earliest work and,
even then, he argues there that it is not so much his identifica­
tion as that of the ancient and ongoing tradition o f philosophy
he is interrogating.
Heidegger often direcdy and indirectly addresses the way in
which philosophy repeatedly and insistendy describes itself as a
kind o f architecture. He points, fo r example, to the way Im ­
manuel Kant’s Critique o fPure Reason describes metaphysics as an
“edifice” erected on secure “foundations” laid on the most stable
“ground.” Kant criticizes previous philosophers fo r their ten­
dency to “complete its speculative structures as speedily as may
be, and only afterwards to enquire whether these foundations
are reliable.”10The edifice o f metaphysics has fallen apart and is
“in ruins” because it has been erected on “groundless assertions”
unquestioningly inherited from the philosophical tradition. To
restore a secure foundation, the Critique starts the “thorough
preparation of the ground” 11 w ith the “clearing, as it were, and
levelling o f what has hitherto been wasteground.”12 The edifice
o f metaphysics is understood as a grounded structure.
For Heidegger, the tradition o f metaphysics has always under­
stood itself as a kin d o f building, even before it started explicitly
describing itself in these terms when Rene Descartes depicted
philosophy as the construction o f an edifice, a sound structure
erected on stable, well-grounded foundations, a description that
would then be institutionalized, most conspicuously by the w rit­
ings o f Kant. Heidegger argues that Kant’s e xplicit attempt to lay
the foundations fo r a building is the necessary task o f all meta­
physics. The question o f metaphysics has always been that o f the
ground on which things stand, even though it has only been
explicitly form ulated in these terms in the modern period in ­
augurated by Descartes. Metaphysics is no more than the attem pt
to locate the ground. Its history is that o f a succession o f different
names (logos, ratio, arche, and so on) fo r the ground.
8_______________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

Furtherm ore, Heidegger argues that philosophy’s original but


increasingly forgotten object, “Being” [San], is also a kind of
construction, a “presencing” [Anwesenheit] through “standing”
[stehen]. Each o f philosophy’s successive terms fo r “ground”
[Grand] designates “Being,” understood as “presence.” Metaphys­
ics is the identification o f the ground as “supporting presence”
fo r whatever stands like an edifice. It searches fo r “that upon
which everything rests, what is always there fo r every being as its
support.”13 Indeed, fo r Heidegger, metaphysics is no more than
the d efinition o f ground as “support.”
In the terms o f Heidegger’s argument, it would seem that
there is some kind o f symptomatic transference between philoso­
phy, as an institution that constructs arguments like a building
is constructed, and the object it analyzes. A t the very least, phi­
losophy identifies w ith its object, seeing itself as a construction
that reveals the construction o f Being, not by simply representing
that construction but by presenting its essential condition. The
rules that organize the institutional practices o f philosophy sup­
posedly are provided by its object rather than by any sociopo­
litica l system, which is to say that philosophy’s rules are not
institutional. Philosophy, in the strictest sense, does not even
think o f itse lf as an institution. The figure o f architecture is
therefore not simply one figure among the others that it chooses
to employ. More than ju st philosophy’s figure o f itself, it is the
figure by which that institution effaces its own institutional con­
dition, an effacement that paradoxically defines philosophy’s
particular institutional location and sociopolitical function. It is
philosophy’s claim on that which precedes or exceeds the social
that gives it unique social authority— the authority, precisely, to
define and regulate the social. From the beginning, philosophy
has represented itself as a source, storehouse, and arbitrator of
order. This representation would not be possible w ithout the
architectural figure, which is to say a very particular figure of
architecture, one that always has to be protected from damage
even, i f not especially, when it is not being explicidy invoked.
M aintained in working order even when it is being held in
reserve, the figure is always operative in the discourse and actu­
ally exerts the greatest force when in reserve. Philosophical dis-
9______________________________
The Edifice Complex Revisited

course is more indebted to this architectural figure than it could


ever say, even when it does become explicit. Indeed, the real
force o f the figure lies in those o f its operations that philosophy
cannot address.
When the figure does surface, it is that o f presentation. Phi­
losophy’s structure supposedly emerges from and thereby pre­
sents the ground. The figure o f the edifice, the grounded
structure, is that o f a standing up that presents. On the one
hand, philosophy is the construction o f propositions that stand
up, and the ability o f its constructs to stand is determ ined by the
condition o f the ground, its supporting presence. On the other
hand, philosophy is the question o f what the ground w ill with­
stand, o f what can stand on the ground. For Heidegger, the
“fundamental” question o f metaphysics (why there are beings
rather than nothing) asks o f a being “on what does it stand?”14
In both cases—philosophy and its object—standing up through
construction makes visible the condition o f the ground. An
edifice is that which manifests grounding, that which exhibits the
ground to an eye.
Consequendy, philosophy’s successive relayings o f the founda­
tions do not preserve a single, defined edifice on ever more
stable footings. Rather, it is a m atter o f dismanding the founda­
tions o f a traditional edifice u n til it “begins to to tte r”15 and its
structure cracks open, establishing the possibility o f a different
building. The form o f the edifice changes as the ground changes.
Having cleared the ground, fo r example, Kant must reassess its
load-bearing capacity and, as he puts it, “lay down the complete
architectonic plan” o f a new philosophy to “b uild upon this
foundation.”16 The edifice must be redesigned. Re-laying the
foundations establishes the possibility o f a different edifice. For
Heidegger, who begins his most extended reading o f Kant’s
Critique by arguing that philosophy’s central activity is “best illus­
trated if we consider the building trade,” the laying o f the foun­
dation is the “architectonic circum scription and delineation o f
the inner possibility o f metaphysics” through an interrogation o f
the condition o f the ground. This interrogation involves the
“projection” of a “building plan,” the tracing o f an outline, the
drawing, the designing o f an edifice, the drawing o f the design
10________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

out o f the ground.17 Interrogating the condition o f the ground


defines certain architectonic lim its, structural constraints w ithin
which the philosopher must work as a designer. The philosopher
is first and foremost an architect, endlessly attempting to pro­
duce a grounded structure.
The history o f philosophy is therefore that o f a series o f sub­
stitutions fo r structure. Every reference to structure, no matter
how oblique, is a reference to an edifice erected on, and marked
by, the ground, an edifice from which the ground cannot be
removed. As Derrida observes, when beginning a reading o f
Levi-Strauss:
It would be easy enough to show that the concept o f structure and even
the word “structure” itself are as old as the episterm—that is to say as
old as Western science and Western philosophy—and that th e ir roots
thrust deep in to the soil o f ordinary language, into whose deepest
recesses the episteme plunges in order to gather them up and to make
them part o f itself in a metaphorical displacement. Nevertheless, . . .
structure— or rather the structurality o f structure—although it has al­
ways been at work, has always been neutralized or reduced, and this by
a process giving it a center or o f referring it to a point o f presence, a
fixed origin. The function o f this center was not only to orient, balance,
and organize the structure— one cannot in fact conceive o f an unor­
ganized structure—but above all to make sure that the organizing
principle o f the structure would lim it what we m ight call the play o f the
structure. . . . The concept o f centered structure is in fact the concept
o f a play based on a fundamental ground, a play constituted on the
basis o f a fundamental im m obility and a reassuring certitude, which
itself is beyond the reach o f play.18

The figure o f the edifice that philosophical discourse appears to


appropriate from “ordinary” language as a metaphor o f itself is
that o f a structure whose play is constrained by the ground, a
structure with which the play o f representation is constrained by
presence. It is not simply a figure o f the exclusion o f repre­
sentation in favor o f presence. Rather, it represents the ongoing
control o f representation. The tradition o f philosophy is the
sustained attempt to get control by recovering something that
precedes representation, restraining representation by estab­
lishing the architectonic lim its provided by the ground. It
n _____________________________
The Edifice Complex Revisited

searches fo r the most stable ground in order to exercise the


greatest control.
The architectural figure is therefore never simply that o f the
well-constructed building. It is also the decorated building, one
whose structural system controls the ornam ent attached to it. In
the end, the edifice is as much a model o f representation as o f
presentation. It figures a continuous hierarchy from the suppos­
edly infin ite depth, solidity, and reliability o f the unmediated
presence o f the ground to the thin, ephemeral, dissimulating
representations o f ornamental layers that need to be controlled
to maintain order. O rder is exem plified in the control o f orna­
ment. The traditional logic o f ground and structure w ith which
philosophy organizes itse lf is equally the logic o f structure and
ornament. In the end, philosophy is no more than a theory o f
ornament.
In these terms, philosophy is dependent on an architectural
logic o f support. Architecture is the figure o f the addition, the
structural layer, one element supported by another. It is not ju s t
the addition o f the building to the ground, but a series o f
assembled layers. Metaphysics’ determ ination o f the ground as
support presupposes a vertical hierarchy from ground through
structure to ornament. The idea o f support is dependent on a
particular view o f architecture that defines a range o f relation­
ships from fundamental (foundational) to supplementary (orna­
mental). W ith each additional layer, the bond is weaker. The
structure is supposedly bonded to the ground more securely than
the ornament is bonded to the structure. But as the distance
from the ground becomes greater, the threat to the overall struc­
ture diminishes. This vertical hierarchy needs to be understood
as a mechanism o f control that makes available the thought o f
the ground as support that is metaphysics.
I f structure is that which makes present the ground, submit­
ting itself to the authority o f presence, ornam ent either repre­
sents this grounding or deviates from the line o f support,
detaching itself fro m the ground in order to represent that which
is other than structural. Philosophy attempts to tame ornam ent
in the name o f the ground, to control representation in the
name o f presence. In the end, the philosophical economy turns
12________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

on the status o f ornament. In fact, it is the structure/ornam ent


relationship that enables us to th in k o f support, and thereby to
think o f the ground. The unique authority o f the tradition o f
philosophy, its capacity to define and legitimate order, derives
from its im p lic it theory o f ornament, a theory that rarely be­
comes explicit.
Philosophy's traditional description o f itse lf and its object as
building invokes and sustains a particular image o f architecture
as a mechanism that precedes and controls the decorative images
attached to it through its structural bond to the ground. This
image, which itself must be controlled, is never presented in any
detail, let alone subjected to any kind o f philosophical analysis.
It is seen as unquestionable, a tru th so fam iliar that it is not even
seen as an image—let alone an image w ith a particular history
sustained by a complex system o f institutional practices mobilized
to particular sociopolitical ends. Indeed, it is not even employed
as a representation o f architecture as such, but as an appropria­
tion o f that dimension o f architecture that supposedly precedes
representation: a brute, tangible, visible, and inescapable reality
o f the m aterial world that is, as a result, both immediately acces­
sible to the reader o f philosophy and unquestionable by that
reader. The figure is employed to credit philosophy itse lf with
the unmediated condition exhibited by a building, putting in
place the supposed neutrality and authority o f the structural and
structuring gaze o f philosophical argument.
The figure itself is not examined by the eye it makes possible.
It is exempted from interrogation and this exemption, as it were,
holds the institution o f philosophy together inasmuch as it makes
a whole chain o f sim ilar exemptions possible. Architecture is
invoked as a kind o f touchstone to legitim ize certain routine
practices w ithin the discourse o f philosophy, to relieve those
practices from examination, to block them from view, to disavow
that they are practices. The figure o f architecture that supports
the philosophical eye is the agent o f a strategic blindness, orches­
trating a system o f blind spots that enable philosophy to assume
and sustain a particular sociopolitical role in our culture.
Although this image o f architecture is such a simplistic figure,
a cartoon, it is precisely as a cartoon that it plays such an influen-
13____________________________________________________
The Always Structural Ambivalence about Architecture

tial role in so many cultural transactions. The concern here is


not to simply produce a more nuanced account o f architecture.
Indeed, we should n o t so quickly assume that this is even possi­
ble. Rather, it is a m atter o f trying to understand the nuances o f
how the implausibly simple figure operates— the complex role
played by its very simplicity.

The Always S tructural Am bivalence about A rchitecture

The strategic role o f the figure can be identified more precisely


by looking at the traditional site where philosophical discourse
explicitly addresses the question o f architecture: the philosophy
o f art. The already complicated relationship between philoso­
phy’s descriptions o f itself and its object in architectural terms,
whether explicit o r im plicit, is fu rth e r complicated by the dis­
course’s encounter w ith architecture as an art. In aesthetics, the
particular image o f architecture w ith which philosophy organizes
itse lf interacts w ith an ostensibly more detailed image o f archi­
tecture. These images do not necessarily, i f ever, coincide. The
strange relationship between them marks the particular invest­
ments that are at stake in the traditional image o f architecture,
an image meant to be w ithout any investment and employed
precisely to mark philosophy’s absence o f investment, its de­
tached quest for the tru th . The figure o f architecture is used to
establish the neutrality o f the philosophical gaze at the world,
but when philosophy is obliged to look at architecture itse lf
through its architect’s eye, the scene becomes much more com­
plicated and is m arked by certain symptomatic displacements,
contradictions, evasions, and denials.
Such an overdeterm ination can be found in Kant’s aesthetics.
Although he employs architecture to describe metaphysics in the
Critique o f Pure Reason, he subordinates architecture in the The
Critique ofJudgement as an in fe rio r art, indeed the most infe rio r
o f the arts because it is the most bound to the utilitarian realm
the aesthetic supposedly transcends.19 Architecture cannot be
thought outside u tility and so its beauty is merely “appendant”
O n the other hand, the decorations o f buildings, which can be
considered separately from buildings as things in themselves—
14
The Translation o f Deconstruction

“ornamental gardens,” “the decoration o f rooms,” ‘Svall hang-


ings,” “wall-paper,” “ornamental accessories,” “beautiful fu rn i­
ture”—are elevated into “free” beauty, free precisely from utility.
Although buildings are the lowest form o f art, the decoration o f
buildings (“the sole function o f which is to be looked at”20) is
promoted into the highest form o f art: painting. But much o f
the ornam entation o f buildings is obliged to represent the func­
tion o f those buildings and is therefore excluded.21 What is
promoted in metaphysics—the structural bond to the ground,
which can control representation—is apparently demoted in aes­
thetics. The groundedness o f architecture seems to get in the way
o f the detached aesthetic gaze.
But if we look more closely at the text, this distinction is not
simply applied to architecture. Architecture organizes the very
argument that subordinates it. The aesthetic eye, like the philo­
sophical eye, is not simply directed at architecture but is framed
by i t The Critique ofJudgement begins with two architectural exam­
ples with which it defines the fundamental disposition o f aes­
thetic taste. The firs t separates the aesthetic eye from the eye o f
reason by opposing the rational cognition o f a building to taking
aesthetic delight in it. The aesthetic is detached from the rational
knowledge it “accompanies” and placed in a “separate faculty.”
The second employs the distinction between a decorated palace
and functional buildings like simple huts and eating houses to
establish aesthetic disinterest as a disinterest in the existence o f
an object, its purpose, or its utility. Before we get the concepts,
we get—or are presumed to have already gotten in our everyday
experience—architecture, one o f the arts to which the concepts
are later to be applied. And in both cases, that everyday experi­
ence o f architecture is aesthetic, the very experience that the
book w ill go on to argue is almost impossible in architecture.
Architecture is used to exemplify conditions that are then ex­
cluded from it in a pathological act o f disavowal.
The Critique attempts to subordinate architecture precisely be­
cause it is so indebted to it. Philosophical discourse is only able
to preserve the image o f architecture w ith which it organizes and
describes itse lf by veiling its indebtedness to that image; philoso­
phy can only preserve its self-image by domesticating architec-
15____________________________________________________
The Always Structural Ambivalence about Architecture

ture, confining it, taking it out o f view, holding it in reserve in


some secure place from which it can be used to organize the very
terrain in which it is prohibited from appearing. Even the nec­
essary appearance o f architecture in the carefully delim ited do­
main o f aesthetics produces a kind o f embarrassment fo r the
discourse, which forces a series o f double gestures.
It is not that architecture is simply promoted in metaphysics
and demoted in aesthetics. Rather, it is stitched in to the opera­
tions o f philosophy in more complex ways than philosophy can
describe. To understand its role, we need to know more than
what philosophy can say o f architecture. It is actually a question
o f what it w ill not say about architecture, the architecture that is
excluded from philosophy and whose exclusion makes philoso­
phy possible or, m ore precisely, the architecture that should be
excluded but never can be and so must be buried by a sustained
pathology o f disavowal, the architecture fo r which even the clas­
sic image o f architecture that punctuates the discourse is but a
fetishistic substitute that itself must be withdrawn as much as
possible. The architecture that is spoken o f but always and im ­
mediately domesticated, bracketed o ff as a suspect figure, masks
another sense o f architecture, one that is unspeakable and frig h t­
ening to the discourse, which nevertheless cannot avoid harbor­
ing it w ithin its very structure, as w ithout it there could be no
sense o f structure in the firs t place.
It is the tension between these architectures that would be at
stake in any translation between deconstructive discourse like
D errida’s and architectural discourse. I f his w ork displaces the
tradition o f philosophy, the question here must be whether o r
n o t it displaces o r reproduces the different images o f architec­
ture embedded w ith in that tradition. These images—which are
also embedded w ith in heterogeneous cultural institutions in ad­
ditio n to philosophy, and even organize our sense o f what an
institution is—cannot be as easily detached from the discipline
o f architecture as it m ight at first appear. This seemingly all too
obvious lin k between deconstruction and architecture, which
surfaces in the very word “deconstruction,” cannot simply be
discarded in the interests o f a more nuanced reading w ithout
effacing a critical dimension o f D errida’s work. I would argue
16________________________________
The Translation of Deconstruction

that it is precisely w ithin this very literal association, w ithin its


very literalness, the literalness o f an architectural metaphor, that
D errida’s w riting is mobilized. A t the very least, the strategic role
o f what seems to be but an incidental metaphor would be one
o f the central issues in any engagement between architecture and
deconstruction.
This is not because philosophy, when speaking o f architecture,
is pointing outside itself to the material condition o f buildings
with which the discipline o f architecture is most directly con­
cerned, offering a theory o f that material practice that is neces­
sarily transformed by D errida’s work in a way that is o f interest
to that discipline. Philosophy is not simply theorizing something
outside itself. The apparent distance between it and a building
is at once produced by and is the possibility o f its own theoretical
discourse. It draws an edifice rather than draws on an edifice,
producing an architecture o f grounded structure that it then
uses fo r support, leaning on it, resting w ithin i t The edifice is
constructed to make theory possible, then subordinated as a
metaphor to defer to some higher, nonm aterial truth. Architec­
ture is constructed as a m aterial reality to liberate a supposedly
higher domain. As material, it is but metaphor. The most mate­
ria l condition is used to establish the most ideal order, which is
then bound to reject the form er as merely material. The status
o f material oscillates. The metaphor o f the ground, the bedrock
as the fundamental base, inverts to become base in the sense o f
degraded, material, less than ideal. The vertical hierarchy inverts
itself, and in this inversion architecture flips from privileged
origin to gratuitous supplement, foundation to ornament.
Philosophy treats its architectural m o tif as but a metaphor that
can and should be discarded as superfluous. The figure o f the
grounded structure is but an illustration, a useful metaphor that
illustrates the nature o f metaphysics, but outlives its usefulness
and must be abandoned from the final form o f metaphysics, a
representation to be separated from the fundamental presenta­
tion, a kind o f scaffolding to be discarded when the project is
complete. The scaffolding that originally supports a structure is
the part o f structure that becomes ornamental. The structure o f
structure is, in the end, ornament. When philosophy reflects on
17______________________
C ontracting Architecture

its own completion, it defines architecture as metaphorical. Meta­


physics is arguably no more than the determ ination o f architec­
ture as metaphor. But can architecture be so simply discarded?
N ot i f we follow D errida’s own argument about metaphor, and
the architectural m etaphor in particular.

C ontracting Architecture

It is significant that the earliest o f D errida’s lectures to be pub­


lished— “‘Genesis and Structure’ and Phenomenology,” which
was originally given in 1959—is an approving reading o f the
particular sense o f “structure” in Edmund Husserl’s work, articu­
lated in terms o f the rhetoric o f “grounds,” “foundations,” “su­
perstructure,” “excavation,” and “erection” that Husserl
employed, and the firs t essay Derrida published— “Force and
Signification” o f 1963— is a disapproving reading o f the “privi­
leged” role o f spatial metaphors, particularly that o f “structure,”
in a text by Jean Rousset. Husserl is supported inasmuch as he
explicitly rethinks the condition o f structure and the general
question o f spatial form , whereas Rousset is condemned for
employing spatial figures uncritically. The issue is not a small
one. Derrida argues that such figures are “only metaphorical, it
w ill be said. Certainly. But m etaphor is never innocent. It orients
research and fixes results. When the spatial model is h it upon,
when it functions, critical reflection rests w ithin it.”22 The dis­
course is within the spatial metaphor rather than the metaphor
is w ithin the discourse. It is orchestrated by what it thinks it
employs. For Derrida, the “aesthetic” mode in which discourse is
“fascinated by the spatial image” is far from innocent; it organizes
the tradition of metaphysics that can be traced back at least to
Plato. To resist that tradition, he calls fo r a sustained suspicion
o f the spatial metaphor and the way its metaphoric condition is
effaced:
Hence, for as long as the metaphorical sense o f the notion o f structure
is n ot acknowledged as such, that is to say interrogated and even
destroyed as concerns its figurative quality so that the nonspatiality or
original spatiality designated by it may be revived, one runs the risk,
through a kind o f sliding as unnoticed as it is efficacious, o f coffilu^pg
18________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

meaning w ith its geometric, m orphological, or, in the best o f cases,


cinematic model. One risks being interested in the figure itse lf to the
detrim ent o f the play going on w ithin it metaphorically.23

This crucial argument does not appear to be about architecture,


and yet twice Derrida clarifies the sense o f the suspect metaphor
in terms o f architecture. A t the beginning o f the essay, what is
figured by “structure” is said to be “somewhat like the architec­
ture o f an inhabited or deserted city”24 and in the m iddle o f the
essay its “lite ra l,” and therefore dangerous, sense is architectural:
“Now, stricto senso, the notion o f structure refers only to space,
geometric or m orphological space, the order o f forms and sites.
Structure is first the structure o f an organic or a rtificia l work,
the internal unity o f an assemblage, a construction; a work is
governed by a unifying principle, the architecture that is b u ilt and
made visible in a location.”25 I t is inasmuch as the spatial image
is literalized as architecture that it is dangerous and its uncritical
employment has to be interfered with, i f n o t “destroyed.”
D errida’s work would go on to repeatedly demonstrate that
metaphysics constitutes itse lf w ith the very metaphors it claims
to have abandoned as “mere” metaphors. Furthermore, at one
po in t he argues that this very attempt to abandon metaphors in
favor o f something more fundamental involves the architectural
metaphor itself. In his most sustained argument about metaphor,
he notes that a metaphor is distinguished from the fundamental
as a building is distinguished from the ground:
Thus, the criteria fo r a classification o f philosophical metaphors are
borrowed from a derivative philosophical discourse.. . . They are meta­
phorical, resisting every meta-metaphorics, the values o f concept, foun­
dation, and th e o ry.. . . What is fundam ental corresponds to the desire
fo r a firm and ultim ate ground, a terrain to build on, the earth as the
support fo r an artificia l structure.26

Philosophy can only define a part o f itse lf as nonmetaphorical


by employing the architectural metaphor. This particular meta­
phor organizes the general status o f metaphor. In so doing, it
organizes the tradition o f philosophy that claims to be able to
discard it. The figure o f a building as a grounded structure
cannot be discarded to reveal any fundamental ground, as the
19______________________
Contracting Architecture

sense o f the “fundam ental” is produced by that very figure.


Architectural figures cannot simply be detached from philo­
sophical discourse. Architecture is not simply one metaphor
among others. M ore than the metaphor o f foundation, it is the
foundational metaphor. It is therefore not simply a metaphor.27
The architectural figure is bound to philosophy, and the insti­
tutionalized discourses “responsible” fo r architecture and phi­
losophy each share and m aintain this bond. The bond is
contractual, not in the sense o f an agreement signed by two
parties, but in that o f a conceptual knot o f which the two parties
are but an effect, a translation contract in the sense o f D errida’s
reading o f Benjamin. More than the terms o f exchange and
translation w ithin and between these discourses, it produces each
discourse as a discourse. The translation between architecture
and philosophy works both ways. Each has a fatal attraction fo r
the other that manifests itse lf in many different ways. Each de­
pends on the other. N either one can th in k o f itse lf outside the
other, and yet each can think o f itself only by placing the other
outside. Each constructs the other as an origin from which it is,
by definition—which is to say, by self-definition—detached. Each
identifies the other as other, constructing it as other by invoking
it as a privileged orig in , only to push it away. Philosophy appeals
to architecture to constitute itself, only to immediately subor­
dinate architecture as mere material. Likewise, architectural
discourse appeals to philosophy to constitute itself, only to sub­
ordinate it as provisional and ephemeral argument that must give
way to the fundamental m ateriality o f a building. Both discourses
are constantly marked by the traces o f these inversions, oscillat­
ing between moments o f attraction and repulsion that can never
simply be separated. The translation contract, as it were, negoti­
ates this complex and restless dynamic.
This unwritten contract, which is neither a contingent cultural
artifact nor an atemporal acultural principle, establishes the pos­
sibility o f the more visible social contracts that appear to organize
and separate architecture and philosophy as institutional dis­
courses. The relatively recent status o f architecture as a discipline
began to be negotiated by the firs t texts o f architectural theory
in the Renaissance, which drew on the canonic texts o f the
20________________________________
The Translation of Deconstruction

philosophical tradition to identify the proper concern o f the


newly constituted figure o f the architect w ith drawing [Disegno],
which mediates between the idea and the building, the form al
and the material, the soul and the body, the theoretical and the
practical. Architecture—architectural drawing—is neither simply
a mechanical art bound to the bodily realm o f u tility nor a liberal
art operating in the realm o f ideas, but is their reconciliation,
the bridge between the two. Architectural theory thus constructs
architecture as a bridge between the dom inant oppositions o f
metaphysics and constitutes itself by exploiting the contractual
possibility already w ritten into the philosophical tradition
wherein it describes itself as architecture.
It is not simply that architecture has some fam iliar, unambigu­
ous material reality that is drawn upon by philosophy. Rather,
philosophy draws an architecture, presents a certain under­
standing, a theory, o f architecture. The terms o f the contract are
the prohibition o f a different description o f the architectural
object, or rather, the dissimulation o f that object. The discipline
o f architecture participates in this prohibition. Even though it
nominates architecture as its subject, its main concern is to
m aintain the assumptions about architecture that are necessary
fo r the everyday operations o f culture outside the ostensible field
o f architecture: assumptions about materiality, order, spacing,
closure, and so on. The discipline is no more than the mainte­
nance o f the sense o f a field, a defined te rrito ry ostensibly
worked over by different forms o f architectural practice, theory,
historiographical strategies, form s o f criticism , pedagogical tech­
niques, course structures, building codes, codes o f professional
ethics, techniques o f representation, guild mentalities, modes o f
publication, exhibitions, journals, galleries, museums, and so on.
But this fie ld is not so much explored by these institutional
practices as defended by them. It is constituted as such by an
ongoing labor o f representation, which confirm s that architec­
ture has its own lim its that can be demarcated and examined,
but in the end does so by preventing such an examination. Even
this concept o f a field as a delim ited space presupposes exactly
those architectural assumptions that are exempted from exami­
nation by such institutionalized defenses.
21______________________
Contracting Architecture

It is this solid defense through a systematic blinding o f dis­


course that defines the profoundly conservative role o f architec­
tural discourse. It is not so much that the discourse assumes a
conservative position, but that it conserves certain ideas about
space employed by discourses which do not appear to be con­
cerned with space (like the ideas embedded in the very concept
o f “position,” for example). The traditional classification o f ar­
chitecture as an a rt acts as a cover fo r this fundamental discipli­
nary work. Even, i f n o t especially, the current discourse’s endless
celebration o f the new and o f unique architectural responses to
different spatial, regional, and historical conditions, the roman­
ticizing o f creativity, the prom otion o f the individual architect,
the production o f canonic histories, the awarding o f prizes and
commissions, commissions as prizes, and so on, is first and fore­
most a labor of conservation. The solidity o f architecture is in
this institutional defense rather than in the structure o f build­
ings. The resistance o f architecture does not lie in its ostensible
materials but in the strength o f institutional resistance to their
interrogation. It is n o t that architecture, as it were, stands up
to sustained interrogation. Rather, the institution o f architecture
is not read as such by the many discourses it makes possible,
including, but n o t especially, those o f “architecture” and
“philosophy.”
The concern here must therefore be to locate certain discur­
sive practices repressed w ithin the pathological mechanisms o f
the traditional economy that bind these discourses together by
tracing the impact o f another account o f architecture hidden
w ithin them. It must be remembered that deconstructive dis­
course is not outside this economy. On the contrary, it attains its
force precisely by inhabiting the tradition, obeying its principles
so rigorously that th e ir internal complications and contradictions
become evident In so doing, it necessarily engages at some level
w ith the contract between architecture and philosophy. The
question is, exactly what kind o f relationship does deconstructive
discourse assume w ith the account o f architecture that the tradi­
tional economy resists but cannot avoid, the always threatening
architecture repressed by the tradition? Can deconstructive dis­
course speak about this unspeakable architecture? O r even, can
22________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

a discourse be deconstructive w ithout doing so? To what extent


is deconstructive discourse no more than a certain kind o f inter­
ference w ith the institutional mechanisms that conceal, if not
incarcerate, a certain forbidden, improper, and, above all, ille ­
gitimate architecture?

Towering Ruins

It needs to be remembered here that to describe architecture’s


privileged role in philosophy is not to identify it as some kind o f
origin or pregiven reality from which philosophy derives, and
which therefore must be engaged through deconstructive dis­
course. It is n o t simply that there is some fundamental m aterial
reality o f architecture in the world that is being suppressed by
discourse. Architecture does not precede philosophy. Space is
produced as such by the particular discourse m aintained by
philosophy, and there is no philosophy w ithout space. Architec­
ture and philosophy are effects o f die same transaction, effects
that can never be separated. One is never simply outside the
other. The sense that they are separate is actually an effect o f the
very contract that binds them according to complicated folds,
twists, and turns that defy the institutional practices o f both
discourses. A deconstructive discourse would need to trace the
folds o f this unique topology. In so doing, it would become
evident that the strange condition produced when philosophy
infects itse lf with what appears to belong in its “outside” by
drawing on architecture— but actually produces a generic image
o f architecture to cover over an unspeakable architecture on its
“inside”—is actually internal to the architecture it represents.
Architecture is cut from w ithin. It is itse lf infected, and philoso­
phy unw ittingly appeals to it fo r precisely this internal torm ent,
exploiting it even while officially crediting buildings w ith an
unambiguous material and perceptual reality.
In such terms, the translation o f deconstruction in architec­
ture does not simply occur across the divide between philosophy
and architecture as some kind o f singular event that produces
some new description o f architectural objects. It is already occur­
ring w ithin each discourse and must already have some kind o f
23_____________
Tow ering Ruins

im pact on deconstructive discourse. I t is n o t som ething that the


discourse can choose to either address o r ignore, as it is part o f
what constitutes th a t discourse as deconstructive in the firs t
place. To make an architectural translation o f deconstruction
therefore involves locating the accounts o f architecture already
operative w ithin deconstructive discourse rather than sim ply gen­
erating some new description o f the architectural object fo r
architectural discourse. The difference between these accounts
and those o f the tra d itio n o f philosophy marks the precise nature
o f deconstructive discourse’s occupation and transform ation o f
that trad ition . To question the discourse’s ongoing relationship
to architecture is therefore to question its every gesture. Its lim its
are established by the account o f architecture it produces and
depends on, albeit unw ittingly.
Such an account can even be located in D e rrid a ’s discussion
o f translation itself. Inasm uch as deconstruction tampers w ith
the philosophical ideal o f translation, it necessarily tampers w ith
the philosophical ideal o f architecture. A nd if, as D errida argues
at one point, “the question o f deconstruction is also through and
through the question o f translation,”28 its th in k in g about archi­
tecture is likely to surface in those texts where its th in kin g about
translation, which is im p lic itly w ritte n in to , if n o t organizing, a ll
o f the other texts, becomes e x p lic it In fact, D e rrid a ’s account o f
translation is e xp licitly organized around an architectural figure:
the Tower o f Babel. I t is the fa ilu re o f the tower that marks the
necessity fo r translation, the p ro life ra tio n o f a m u ltip lic ity o f
languages, the u n ru ly play o f representation, w hich is to say the
necessity fo r co n tro llin g representation. The collapse marks the
necessity fo r a certain regulated and regulating construction. In
D e rrid a ’s “Des Tours de Babel,” the figure o f the tower acts as
the strategic intersection o f translation, philosophy, architecture,
and deconstruction.
The tower acts as the figure o f philosophy because the dream
o f philosophy is th a t o f translatability.29 Philosophy is no m ore
than the ideal o f pure translation, the careful recovery and
unm ediated presentation o f an o rig in a l tru th . But, as D errida
points out elsewhere, the univocal language o f the builders o f
the tower is not the language o f philosophy. O n the contrary, it
24________________________________
The T ranslation o f D econstruction

is an im posed order, a vio le n t im position o f a single language.30


The necessity o f philosophy is actually defined in the collapse o f
the tower rather than in the project itself. Inasmuch as the desire
fo r translation produced by the incom pletion o f the tower is, as
in a ll translations, never com pletely satisfied o r frustrated, the
philosophical edifice is never sim ply finished o r dem olished. The
b u ild in g project o f philosophy continues, b u t its com pletion is
forever deferred. This is n o t to say that a single construction is
slowly assembled, like the o rig in a l tower, toward some unattain­
able goal, b u t that the ideal o f the edifice is forever suspended
in a scene o f endless re building, an interm inable displaced dis­
course about build ing.
The tower is also the figure o f deconstruction. Because de-
constructive discourse inhabits the philosophical tra d itio n , sub­
verting it fro m w ith in by exploiting its hidden resources, it
necessarily inhabits the figure o f the tower, lodging its e lf w ith in
it and transform ing the representation o f its construction. Inas­
m uch as philosophy is the ideal o f translation, deconstruction is
the in te rn a l subversion o f that ideal, a subversion found w ith in
the very preconditions fo r philosophy, the incom pletion o f the
tower: “The deconstruction o f the Tower o f Babel, moreover,
gives a good idea o f what deconstruction is: an unfinished edifice
whose half-com pleted structures are visible, le ttin g one guess at
the scaffolding behind them .”31 Deconstructive discourse iden­
tifies the in a b ility o f philosophy to establish the stable ground—
its endless deferral o f the very o rig in it seeks, which prevents the
com pletion o f the edifice— by locating the untranslatable, unpre­
sentable, even unrepresentable rem ainder, the unspeakable
other that lies somewhere between the o rig in a l and the transla­
tio n , m aking translation possible yet preventing its com pletion,
that w hich is located w ith in the discourse b u t cannot be located
by it.
Furtherm ore, one o f the im plications o f D e rrid a’s argum ent
about translation is that the tower and its incom pletion is m ore
than sim ply an architectural figure fo r philosophy and its decon­
struction. I t is also a figure o f architecture itself. As D errida
argues in another context, “I f the tower had been com pleted
there w ould be no architecture. O nly the incom pletion o f the
25_____________
Tow ering Ruins

tower makes it possible fo r architecture as w ell as the m ultitude


o f languages to have a history.”32 The possibility o f architecture
is bound up w ith the forever incom plete project o f philosophy.
I f the philosophical dream o f pure translation is a kin d o f b u ild ­
ing project, the inevitable incom pletion o f the b u ild in g marks
the necessity o f architecture, understood as a representation that
speaks o f the stru ctu ra l essence o f budding, a supplem entary
layer that represents the ground in its absence. I f b u ild in g is the
presentation o f the ground, architecture is the representation o f
that grounding. A rchitecture is, as it were, the translation o f
b u ild in g that represents b u ild in g to its e lf as com plete, secure,
undivided. The architectural supplem ent is always called fo r by
structural failure, called in to provide a p a rticu la r image o f
b u ild in g in its absence— n o t ju s t an image o f a p a rticu la r b u ild ­
in g b u t also an im age o f the idea o f b u ild in g in general, the
supposedly universal sense o f b u ild in g as the secure grounding
o f m aterial structure.
The architectural supplem ent (and a ll supplem ents are archi­
tectural in the end) does n o t sim ply dissim ulate a structural
fa ilu re that preceded it. I f architecture is the translation o f b u ild ­
ing, it would fo llo w fro m D e rrid a ’s argum ent about translation
that the architectural representation is n o t sim ply added as an
afterthought in a m om ent o f weakness, the weakness o f the
b u ild in g ’s structure. A rchitecture can never be divorced from
b u ild in g , even though tra d itio n a l discourse works hard to do so.
I t is n o t a detached, free-floating, structureless representation
called in because the grounded structure o f a b u ild in g is incom ­
plete, called in to cover som ething that is missing, a repre­
sentational layer attached to the structure it covers, fastened on
to the building to dissim ulate its flaws. O n the contrary, the
o rig in a l sense o f b u ild in g , as the paradigm o f grounded m aterial
structure, is only ever produced by the representational surfaces
that appear to be m erely added to it o r substitute fo r it. B u ild ing
is firs t and forem ost an architectural effect.
Such a conjunctio n o f translation, philosophy, architecture,
and deconstruction is n o t the result o f an idiosyncratic overde­
term ination o f the otherwise sim ple fig u re o f a tower by Der­
rid a ’s text o r the p a rticu la r reading o f that text given here.
26________________________________
T he T ra n sla tio n o f D econstruction

Rather, it is a question o f the im p lic it and e xp licit ways in w hich


D errida exploits the com plex economy th a t such architectural
figures invariably p u t in to play under the very guise o f sim plicity.
Despite the fact that they are invoked to cla rify arguments, they
always m obilize a convoluted set o f effects that those argum ents
cannot control.
In these terms, the discourses we are concerned w ith here tu rn
o u t to be so entangled that it is necessary to trace m ore carefully
the differences between them . Inasmuch as the figure o f the
tower o r edifice acts as some kin d o f com m on ground shared by
these apparendy fore ign discourses, it needs to be exam ined
m ore closely in order to id e n tify the ruses o f translation m arked
w ith in it that produce and m aintain the sense o f separate iden­
tities. The double movements o f translation, w hich at once con­
stitute and subvert the lim its that define each discourse, are
necessarily made possible by an ongoing breakdown in the sense
o f grounded structure that is the shared currency w ith in them .
T his breakdown is mapped by all o f D e rrid a ’s texts, beginning
w ith his firs t essay, w hich describes how Husserl rethinks philoso­
phy by being so “respectful o f that w hich remains open w ith in
structure” to the extent o f understanding that “the opening o f
the structure is ‘structural,’ th a t is, essential.”33 I t is precisely this
enigm atic “structurality o f an opening” th a t organizes transla­
tio n . For D errida, the incom pletion o f the tower is its very struc­
ture. The tower is deconstructed by establishing th a t “the
structure o f the o rig in a l is m arked by the requirem ent to be
translated”34 and that it “in no way suffers fro m n o t being
satisfied, at least it does n o t suffer in so fa r as it is the very
structure o f the w ork.”35 T his is to say that there is an opening
in the structure, a structural opening, a gap that cannot be fille d ,
a gap that can only be covered w ith some kin d o f supplem ent,
an ornam ental cover that cannot be removed. Inasm uch as it is
a tower, the tower is always m arked by a flaw —a structural flaw,
a flaw that is structural, an instability concealed by the ornam en­
tal translation that produces the sense o f stable structure in the
firs t place, subordinating its e lf to what it produces, m arking
w ith in its surfaces the lin e between structure and o rn a m e n t I t
is by patiently follow ing the hidden twists o f this seemingly clear-
27_____________
T ow ering Ruins

cut lin e that deconstructive discourse displaces the generic figure


o f architecture. T his can be seen when in one o f the many tim es
that D errida’s w o rk explicidy underm ines and complicates the
always political relatio nship between structure and ornam ent, it
does so by th in k in g o f it as a relationship o f translation:

I do n o t believe th a t today one can, simply, analyze anything whatever


w hile calm ly tru stin g the difference between an infrastructure and a
superstructure.. . . a t the p o in t where a deconstructive analysis enters,
this opposition cannot be considered as guaranteed, o r even as a th in g
in w hich one can have confidence. . . . Conveyance is a ll there is
between . . . in ffa stru cu re and superstructure; [th e re is only] transla­
tio n in the most open sense o f the w ord, . . . There is no pure in fra ­
structure. There is n o pure superstructure. T here is o n ly text. . . . the
econom ic infra stru ctu re is text, fo r exam ple.36

In such displacements o f the tra d itio n a l architectural figure,


structure is no lo nger sim ply groun ding thro ugh a continuous
vertical hierarchy fro m ground to ornam ent, b u t a discontinuous
and convoluted lin e , an enigm atic series o f folds. A t the very
least, the b u ild in g is no longer sim ply standing on the ground,
and the whole conceptual economy it is m eant to p u t in place is
disturbed. The sense o f structure is actually produced by the
supplem entary layers o f representation that appear least struc­
tural. The sense o f co n tro l sought by tra d itio n a l discourse actu­
ally derives from th a t w hich the discourse identifies as being in
the greatest need o f that control. The fundam ental sense that
the b u ild in g fa ith fu lly translates the ground is b u t an effect o f
the supplem entary layer o f architecture that is meant, in tu rn ,
to fa ith fu lly translate the b u ild in g and obey its law. A rchitecture
is made to subm it to a law o f its own m aking. This enforced
submission, ritu a lly staged ip the texts o f the philosophical tra­
d itio n but operative th ro u g h o u t heterogeneous Western dis­
courses, veils the fact that b u ild in g is always only an effect o f
representation. T he labor o f construction is never m ore than a
labor o f representation. In the end, it is this fact that is the most
threatening to th a t tra d itio n .
The radical consequences o f the though t th a t architecture is
the possibility o f b u ild in g rather than a sim ple addition to it, that
ornam ent is the possibility o f structure, cannot be overestimated.
28________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

A ll o f the conceptual oppositions w ith w hich the tra d itio n orga­


nizes its e lf tu rn on this p o in t. Its n o t ju s t, o r even at all, that
architecture is reconfigured, that the practice o f what is tradi­
tio n a lly recognized as architecture is described in a new way.
Rather, a whole conceptual economy based on a certain descrip­
tio n o f architecture is disturbed. In each site w ith in all the dis­
courses organized around that economy, the role o f that which
is tacidy understood to be like architecture is to b u ild in g is
disrupted. The supplem entary layer is seen to orchestrate the
privileged structure it is subordinated to and m eant to fa ith fu lly
translate. N o translation is secondary. In the end, there is noth­
in g w ith o u t translation. B ut this o f course is n o t the translation
dreamed o f by the philosophical tra d itio n . In term s o f that tra­
d itio n , D e rrid a ’s tacit articula tion o f the structural necessity o f
architecture marks the structural necessity o f a certain fa ilu re o f
translation, the structural necessity o f a certain violence.
Inasm uch as translation is n eith er com pleted n o r com pletely
frustrated, the distinction between b u ild in g and architecture—
w hich is at once the contractual possibility o f architectural dis­
course and the means by w hich to repress the threat posed by
th a t discourse— is uncannily com plicated. Deconstructive dis­
course traces architecture’s subversion o f b u ild in g , a subversion
th a t cannot be resisted sim ply because architecture is the struc­
tu ra l possibility o f build ing. B u ild in g always harbors the secret o f
its constitutional violation by architecture. Deconstructive dis­
course articulates the relationship between this covert vio latio n
and the overt violence w ith w hich architecture is controlled. I t
repeatedly locates that w hich is configured as ornam ental w ith in
the very structure that appears to dom inate and exclude it,
fin d in g the traces o f the ornam ent’s vio latio n o f structure, a
vio latio n that cannot be exorcised, a constitutional vio latio n that
can only be repressed by in stitu tio n a l practices that are them ­
selves always v io le n t
To say this little is already to elaborate one o f the im plications
o f D e rrid a ’s discourse around deconstruction beyond the ex­
p lic it focus o f his w ritings, one o f many that w ill have to be
pursued here in m ore detail. B ut before doing so, it is necessary
to go m uch fu rth e r in to his texts in order to com prehend the
29_____________________________
The Survival o f Deconstruction

architectures they already produce o r resist and the fa in t b u t


crucial marks o f a certain sustained ambivalence about
architecture.

T h e S urvival o f D e co n stru ctio n

Such an in-depth reading needs to be extrem e and yet cautious.


A num ber o f p re lim in a ry precautions are necessary. First, it is
im portant to rem em ber that deconstruction is n o t a m ethod, a
critique , an analysis, o r a source o f le g itim a tio n .37 I t is n o t stra­
tegic. I t has no prescribed aim, w hich is n o t to say that it is
aimless. It moves very precisely, b u t n o t to some defined end. I t
is n o t even an a pp lication o f som ething o r an add ition to some­
thing . I t is, at best, a strange structural co n d itio n , an ongoing
structural event, a continuous displacem ent o f structure th a t
cannot be evaluated in tra d itio n a l term s because it is the very
fru stra tio n o f those terms. D econstruction is th a t w hich is neces­
sary to structure b u t evades structural analysis (and analysis is
invariably s tru ctu ra l). I t is the breakdown o f structure th a t is the
very possibility o f structure, b u t w hich m ust be concealed to
produce the effect o f structure in the firs t place.
Rather than o ffe rin g new accounts o f the architectural object
to replace the one that dom inates the disciplines o f philosophy
and architecture, deconstructive discourse unearths the repres­
sive mechanisms by w hich other senses are hidden w ith in (rather
than behind o r underneath) th a t tra d itio n a l figure, senses that
are already threatening in th e ir very m u ltip licity. It is the repres­
sion o f these constitutional enigmas th a t is the basis o f the social
contract that organizes the overt discourse about architecture.
The architectural fig u re is n o t sim ply required by philosophy
because it is the paradigm o f stable structure; it is also required
precisely fo r its very instability. Just as in sta b ility must always be
concealed to produce the effect o f unam biguous stability, p h ilo ­
sophical discourse, w hich represents its e lf as b o th the stabilizing
discourse and the discourse about stability, is unable to articulate
its debt to architecture. The very basis o f its attraction to archi­
tecture, its most fundam ental desire, is forbidden. Inasmuch as
deconstructive discourse is the attem pt to articulate the unspeak-
30________________________________
The Translation o f Deconstruction

able, b u t always constitutional, desire o f philosophy, it necessarily


uncovers a forbidden architecture hidden w ith in tra d itio n a l
discourse.
Likewise, to translate deconstruction in architecture is n o t to
sim ply transform the co nd ition o f the m aterial architectural ob­
je ct. I t is n o t the source o f a particular kin d o f architecture, but
an in te rro g a tio n o f the ongoing discursive role o f architecture.
As the tra d itio n o f metaphysics is the d e fin itio n o f architecture
as mere m etaphor, any disru p tio n o f architecture’s ro le as a
figure is already a d isrup tion o f metaphysics. This is n o t to say
th a t this disru p tio n occurs outside the realm o f m aterial objects.
O n the contrary, it is a d isrup tion o f the lin e between discourse
and m ateriality whereby the sense o f a m aterial object is under­
stood to be a discursive e ffe c t I t is n o t that the tra d itio n a l
distinctions organized around that lin e th a t are so conspicuous
in architectural discourse (theory/p ractice , id e a l/m a te ria l, proj-
e c t/b u ild in g , and so on) disappear. Rather, they are com plicated
in ways that transform the status o f fa m ilia r discursive operations
and expose other operations that are ongoing and produce cer­
tain visible effects b u t cannot be recognized by the in stitu tio n a l­
ized discourses o f philosophy and architecture (to name but
tw o), covert operations that reconfigure architecture.
Such deconstructive gestures are n o t sim ply theoretical o r
practical. They are n eith er a new way o f reading architecture n o r
the means o f producing a new architecture. O n the one hand,
so-called m aterial “objects” are already bisected by the in stitu tio n ­
alized d istinction between theory and practice in com plex ways,
according to extrem ely convoluted geometries. O n the other,
so-called theoretical discourse is its e lf a m aterial site o f produc­
tio n . To translate deconstruction in architecture does n o t sim ply
lead to a fo rm a l reconfiguration o f the architectural object o r
architectural theory. Rather, it calls in to question the status o f
the object w ith o u t sim ply abandoning i t I f it is concerned w ith
anything, it is concerned w ith theoretical objects, w hich is to say,
objects whose theoretical status and objecthood are problem atic,
slippery objects that make them atic the theoretical co n d itio n o f
objects and the objecthood o f theory. But, in the end, it does so
31_____________________________
T he Survival o f D eco n stru ctio n

to demonstrate th a t this slipperiness is n o t the unique property


o f particular discursive objects, b u t is the very possibility o f any
discourse and its objects. In the end, the solidity o f an object is
always a product o f slippage.
These gestures cannot sim ply in h a b it the prescribed dom ains
o f philosophy and architecture. A lthough philosophical dis­
course and architectural discourse depend on an e xp licit ac­
count o f architecture, they have no unique claim on th a t
account The translation contract on w hich those discourses are
based underpins a m u ltip lic ity o f cu ltu ra l economies. The con­
cern here is w ith the strategic play o f the architectural m o tif
w ith in these heterogeneous exchanges. This ongoing cultural
production o f architecture does n o t take the fo rm specified in
architectural discourse. A rchitecture does n o t occupy the do­
m ain allotted to it. Rather than the object o f a specific discourse,
architecture involves a num ber o f discursive mechanisms whose
operations have to be traced in ways u n fa m ilia r to, and system­
atically resisted by, architectural discourse.
Consequently, the status o f the translation o f deconstruction
in architecture needs to be rethought. A m ore aggressive reading
is required, an architectural transform ation o f deconstruction
that draws on the gaps in deconstruction that dem and such an
abuse, sites that already operate w ith o r call fo r a kin d o f archi­
tectural violence. There is a need fo r a m ore fo rce fu l reading
th a t locates that w h ich deconstruction desires b u t cannot handle
o f architecture.
Certain possibilities emerge w ith in architectural discourse th a t
go beyond the displacem ent o f architecture im p lic it in decon-
structive w riting. To translate deconstruction architecturally by
locating these possibilities is to reproduce it by transform ing
it. Such a transform ation w ould operate on th e 'h e sita tio n de-
constructive discourse has about architecture, a hesitation th a t
surfaces precisely w ith in its m ost confid ent claims about archi­
tecture. A t the b eg inn ing o f his essay on translation, fo r example,
D errida writes:
The "Tower o f B abel” does n o t m erely fig u re the irre d u cib le m u ltip lic ­
ity o f tongues; it e xh ib its an incom pletion , the im possibility o f fin ish in g ,
32________________________________
T he T ranslation o f D econstruction

o f totalizing, o f saturating, o f com pleting som ething on the o rd e r o f


edifica tio n , architectural construction, system and architectonics. W hat
the m u ltip lic ity o f idiom s actually lim its is n o t on ly a “tru e ” translation,
a transparent and adequate interexpression, it is also a structural order,
a coherence o f construct. T here is then (le t us translate) som ething
like an in te rn a l lim it to form alization, an incom pleteness o f the con-
structure. I t w ould be easy and up to a certain p o in t ju s tifie d to see
there the translation o f a system in deconstruction.38

This passage culm inates sym ptom atically in a sentence that per­
form s the classical philosophical gesture, the gesture that argu­
ably constitutes philosophy as such. A rchitecture is at once given
constitutive power and has that power frustrated by having its
status retu rne d to that o f a “m ere” m etaphor that needs to be
discarded. H ere the tower, the figure o f translation, is its e lf
understood as a translation, the architectural translation o f de-
construction, w hich is to say, in D erridean terms, a figure that is
the possibility o f deconstruction rather than sim ply its repre­
sentation. B ut D errida’s texts need to be interrogated to see
exactly why such an architectural reading o f deconstruction is
“easy” and what is the “certain p o in t” beyond w hich it becomes
unjustified, im proper. A patient reading needs to force the al­
ready tangled surface o f deconstructive w ritin g and expose the
architectural desire w ith in it; the desire fo r a trad ition al architec­
ture; the desire whose very properness m ight seem im proper on
the surface o f this discourse that everywhere underm ines pro­
priety; the desire whose intensity is actually m arked by the sys­
tem atic re p e titio n o f such attempts to lim it an architectural
translation o f deconstruction.
B ut perhaps even such an abusive reading o f D errida is in ­
sufficient. Inasm uch as his th in k in g about deconstruction is nec­
essarily abused in architectural discourse, his account o f
translation—w hich is to say his account o f the necessity o f
abuse— needs to be rethought. Because o f architecture’s unique
relationship to translation, it cannot sim ply translate deconstruc­
tion. I t is so im plicated in the economy o f translation that it at
once preserves and threatens deconstruction. There is some
k in d o f im p lic it id e n tity between the untranslatable rem ainder
that deconstructive discourse confidently locates and the p a rt o f
33_____________________________
The Survival of Deconstruction

architecture that causes the discourse to hesitate— the architec­


ture it both calls fo r and resists. Consequently, if, as D e rrid a
argues at one p o in t, “everything w hich is liv in g today lives
through deconstruction” inasmuch as “ deconstruction is sur­
vival,”39 deconstructive discourse its e lf can never sim ply survive
architecture.
2 ____________________________
U n b u ild in g A rc h ite c tu re

A rchitecture can never sim ply be a subject o f deconstructive


discourse o r be ig nored by i t There cannot sim ply be a decon­
structive discourse “about” architecture inasm uch as its way o f
raising questions is its e lf architectural fro m the beginning. W hen
D errida describes “deconstruction,” w hich he rarely does (and
then only after a m arked hesitation and the taking o f many
precautions), it is usually in architectural term s. A nd both the
hesitation and the p a rticu la r precautions taken are n o t unrelated
to the fact that these term s are architectural.
D errida’s early w ork repeatedly describes deconstruction as
the “soliciting” o f an edifice, “in the sense that SolUcitare, in o ld
Latin , means to shake as a whole, to make trem ble in entirety.”1
I f deconstructive discourse is anything, it is a fo rm o f interroga­
tio n that shakes structures in a way that exposes structural weak­
nesses. It puts structures under pressure, fo rcin g them , taking
them to the lim it U n der a subtle b u t relentless strain th e ir lim its
become evident and the structure becomes visible as such, b u t it
becomes visible, precisely, as som ething u n like the cu ltu ra lly
enfranchised im age o f structure. The structure does n o t look
structural. That w hich is structural cannot be recognized as such
by the very tra d itio n it organizes. D e rrid a ’s texts locate the un-
resolvable enigmas on w hich the structures they interrogate de­
pend in order to call in to question the dom inant tra d itio n o f
th in kin g that is organized by a certain image o f b uild ing. Each
edifice is destabilized by showing th a t its apparent stability is b u t
an effect o f the ong oin g concealm ent o f these enigmas.
36______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

The edifice o f metaphysics (and a ll edifices consolidate meta­


physics, there being no edifice w ith out metaphysics and no meta­
physics w ith o u t edifice) claims to be stable because it is founded
on the solid bedrock exposed when a ll the insecure sedim entary
layers have been removed. It is dislodged by locating the frac­
tures in the bedrock that underm ine its structure. The threat to
the architecture that is posed by deconstruction is underground
or, rather, is the underground. Subverting metaphysics always
involves an underground operation. In carrying o u t such an
operation, deconstructive discourse subverts an edifice by dem­
onstrating that the ground on w hich it is erected is insecure,
insecure precisely because it veils an underground. The suppos­
edly solid base is rid d le d w ith cavities: “the terrain is slippery and
shifting, m ined and underm ined. A nd this ground is, by essence,
an underground.”2
In these terms, deconstructive discourse appears to locate the
fatal flaw in an edifice that causes its collapse. It appears to be a
form o f analysis that dismandes o r demolishes structures, an
undoing o f construction, and it is in this sense that it is most
obviously architectural. B ut this obvious sense misses the force
o f deconstruction. D econstruction is n o t sim ply architec­
tural. Rather, it is displacem ent o f tra d itio n a l th in kin g about
architecture:

Now the concept o f deconstruction its e lf resembles an architectural


m etaphor. I t is often said to have a negative attitude. Som ething has
been constructed, a philosophical system, a tra d itio n , a culture, and
along comes a de-constructor and destroys it stone by stone, analyses
the structure and dissolves it. O ften enough this is the case. O ne looks
at a system— P latonic/H eg elian— and examines how it was b u ilt, w hich
keystone, w hich angle o f vision supports the a u th o rity o f the system. It
seems to me, however, that this is n o t the essence o f deconstruction. It
is n o t sim ply the technique o f an architect w ho knows how to de-con­
struct what has been constructed, b u t a p ro b in g w hich touches upon
the technique itself, upon the a u th o rity o f the architectural m etaphor
and thereby constitutes its own architectural rh e to ric. D econstruction
is n o t sim ply— as its name seems to indicate— the technique o f a re­
versed construction when it is able to conceive fo r its e lf the idea o f
construction. O ne could say th a t there is n o th in g m ore architectural
than deconstruction, bu t also n o th in g less architectural.5
37__________________________________
Taking Flimsy Cover in A rch ite ctu re

To com prehend in what way deconstruction “resembles” an


architectural gesture, a resemblance so em phatically opposed to
what is (perhaps surprisingly) described as the “essence” o f de-
construction, in o rd e r to grasp the crucial sense in which, fo r
D errida, nothing is m ore o r less architectural than deconstruc­
tio n , it is necessary to lo ok at the origins o f his th in kin g about
it in Heidegger’s w ritin g .

T aking Flim sy C o ve r in A rc h ite c tu re

I t is arguably H eidegger’s engagement w ith the question o f b u ild ­


in g that determ ines both the fo rm and content o f his w ritin g. In
W hat Is a Thing? (th e text o f the lectures o rig in a lly e n title d “Basic
Questions o f Metaphysics” that were given at the U niversity o f
Freiburg in the w in te r semester o f 1935-36), fo r example,
Heidegger asks about the “in n e r structure” o f the “b u ild in g ” th a t
is metaphysics by lo o kin g at K ant’s “e xh ib itio n o f the in n e r
construction o f p ure reason” w hich “draws and sketches” rea­
son’s “outline” and whose “essential m om ent” is the “architec­
tonic, the b lu e p rin t projected as the essential structure o f pure
reason.”4 Heidegger has appropriated a ll o f this architectural
rhetoric directly fro m Kant as p a rt o f a general strategy o f appro­
p ria tio n , which is its e lf described in architectural terms. The
strategy is to occupy the philosophical structure w ith w hich Kant
defines the structure o f reason, id e n tifyin g the lim its o f both
these interrelated structures by in h a b itin g those very lim its:

In o u r in te rp re ta tio n we shall n o t try to exam ine and paraphrase the


structure o f the w o rk fro m the outside. Rather, we shall place ourselves
w ith in the structure its e lf in o rder to discover som ething o f its fram e­
w ork and to gain th e standpoint fo r view ing the w hole.5

T his strategy o f occupation derives closely fro m the “pheno­


m enological re d u ctio n ” o f Edm und Husserl. I t was already fo r­
m ulated in H eidegger’s firs t lectures as Husserl’s assistant in 1920
and recorded in letters to his students as a m atter o f “destruc­
tio n ” (Destruktion ) o r “critica l u n b u ild in g ” (kritische r Abbau)— the
la tte r term being sometimes translated as “critic a l dism antling,”
o r even, more recently, in a kin d o f reverse projection, as “de-
38______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

construction.” The concept was form ally introduced in the cele­


brated Being and Time o f 1927, b u t is then m ore fu lly elaborated
in the lecture course at the U niversity o f M arburg in the summer
o f the same year that was intended to be published as its sequel:

A ll philosophical discussion, even the most radical attem pt to begin a ll


over again, is pervaded by tra d itio n a l concepts and thus by tra d itio n a l
horizons and tra d itio n a l angles o f approach, w hich we cannot assume
w ith unquestionable certainty to have arisen o rig in a lly and genuinely
fro m the dom ain o f being and the constitution o f being they claim to
com prehend. I t is fo r this reason th a t there necessarily belongs to the
conceptual in te rp re ta tio n o f being and its structures, that is, to the
reductive construction o f being, a destruction—a c ritic a l process in
w hich the tra d itio n a l concepts, w hich at firs t m ust necessarily be em­
ployed, are de-constructed [ kritischer Abbau\ down to the sources fro m
w hich they were drawn. . . . C onstruction in philosophy is necessarily
destruction, th a t is to say, a de-constructing o f tra d itio n a l concepts
carried o u t in a historical recursion to the tra d itio n . A nd this is n o t a
negation o f the tra d itio n o r a condem nation o f it as worthless; quite
the reverse, it signifies precisely a positive a ppropria tion o f tra d itio n .6

A uthentic construction involves taking apart unauthentic con­


structions fro m w ith in. It is n o t that the “u n b u ild in g ” o f the old
tra d itio n is follow ed by a new construction. Rather, “destruction
belongs to construction.”7 The tra d itio n contains w ith in its e lf the
traces o f the o rig in a ry construction that it has forgotten, traces
that can be gradually teased out. Philosophy is therefore no m ore
than the W riting o f the history o f philosophy, one that m ust be
continuously rew ritten.8 An orig in a ry construction is n o t some­
th in g that sim ply lies behind the false structures o f the tra d itio n
and can be revealed by dem olishing them . Rather, it is b u ilt in to
those structures and can only be addressed by reappropriating
the tra d itio n in its own terms, taking them to th e ir “lim its.” 9
For Heidegger, the tra d itio n o f philosophy, beginning w ith
Plato, has forgotten its o rig in a l task o f raising the question o f
Being. The in stitu tio n has lost touch w ith the fundam ental con­
d itio n o f beings. The id e n tifica tio n it makes w ith its object, when
both are understood as a k in d o f b u ild in g that stands on a
ground, is therefore m ore a projection o f its self-image onto its
object than a recovery o f the essential co n d itio n o f that object.
Metaphysics is a particular kin d o f construction that actually
39__________________________________
Taking Flim sy Cover in A rch ite ctu re

covers the o rig in a ry construction it ostensibly reveals. Inasm uch


as authentic th in k in g is authentic b u ild in g , the tra d itio n o f p h i­
losophy is at once an inadequate b u ild in g and an inadequate
th in kin g about b u ild in g . H eidegger’s attem pt to “overcome” this
tra d itio n is necessarily a re th in kin g o f b uild ing. T his re th in kin g
does n o t simply abandon the classical b u ild in g o f philosophy in
favor o f some superior construction technique, b u t identifies the
sense o f b u ild in g th a t philosophy attem pts to cover, studying the
classic build ing fo r the traces o f w hat it effaces.
Furtherm ore, the force o f H eidegger’s argum ent derives fro m
its claim that the flaws in the construction o f the edifice that it
identifies do n o t sim ply p o in t to another kin d o f b u ild in g to be
restored after the tra d itio n is dismanded. Rather, they are the
very structure o f the b u ild in g that the tra d itio n constructs. W hen
in terrogating this edifice to reveal the co n d itio n o f the ground
on which it stands, Heidegger raises the possibility that the
ground ( O rund) m ig h t actually be a concealed “abyss” (A bgrund)
and that metaphysics is constructed in ignorance of, o r rather,
to ignore, the in sta b ility o f the te rra in on w hich it is erected,
such that “we m ove about over this ground as over a flim sily
covered abyss.”10 Metaphysics becomes the ve ilin g o f the ground
rather than its investigation, and the apparently sim ple sense o f
a bu ild in g sitting on the ground, supported by it, is the very
mechanism o f th a t veiling. A rchitecture is a cover and philoso­
phy takes cover in architecture.
Heidegger developed this possibility th a t the ground is actually
an obscured abyss in to a quasi-principle, o r m ore precisely, in to
an argum ent th a t a ll principles are, in the end, unp rincip led .
This developm ent is clearest in his seminars given at Freiburg in
1955-56, which studied in detail the so-called “P rinciple o f
G round”— “n o th in g is w ith out ground/reason [O rund ] ”—w ith
w hich m odern philosophy organizes itself. For Heidegger, this
p rin cip le has been embedded in the tra d itio n o f philosophy
since its origins in ancient Greece, even though it has only been
form ulated as such w ith Descartes and Leibniz.11 The surfacing
o f the architectural fig u re in philosophy that is described in
m uch o f Heidegger’s earlier w ritin g turns o u t to be interdepend­
ent w ith the surfacing o f this p rin cip le . The p rin cip le is its e lf
40______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

architectural. Indeed, m uch m ore than this, it is the very p rin c i­


ple o f architecture. I t is n o t ju s t that a p rin cip le d architecture is
a philosophical necessity but, equally, principles are always
architectural.
A ll principles are structural principles. They institute claims
about the status o f the ground that are m eant to be “stabilizing
fo r th in k in g .” 12 The p rin cip le o f ground is, as Heidegger argues
“n o t ju s t any p rin cip le among others”13 as it is the p rin cip le o f
stability itself, the p rin cip le o f principles le gitim izing the concern
w ith the “unshakable groun d” that Descartes looks fo r in order
to erect a stable construction. To philosophize about som ething,
to rationalize it, is “to figure it as som ething upon w hich to
b u ild .” 14 B ut this p rin cip le o f secure construction is n o t itse lf
exam ined by the tra d itio n based around i t Rather, it is a “long­
standing cognitive hab it”15 em ployed everywhere. The basis o f
th in k in g is its e lf n o t thought through. The p rin cip le o f support
is itse lf used fo r support in lie u o f the th in kin g it ostensibly
secures. In the end, it produces the very groundlessness it legis­
lates against: “Everywhere we use the p rin cip le o f reason and
adhere to it as a prop fo r support. But it also im m ediately propels
us in to groundlessness w ith o u t our hardly th in k in g about it in its
genuine m eaning.” 16 Heidegger looks fo r the ground o f this
p rin cip le o f grounding, exam ining the way the expression, and
all the argum ents typically invoked to explain it, are “b u ilt” on a
tautological circle. In the end, the fundam ental p rin cip le o f
ground is itse lf groundless. The b u ild in g o f philosophy is
founded on an abyss. B u ild in g is always abysmal. It is founded
by covering over its o rig in , only appearing to stand inasmuch as
it conceals the absence o f a ground.
Heidegger argues that philosophy has been in a state o f
“groundlessness” ever since the translation o f the term s that
organized ancient Greek th in k in g in to the language o f metaphys­
ics, a translation that substituted the o rig in a l sense o f ground
w ith that o f the sense o f ground as support, ground as supporting
presence to w hich the visible w orld is added.17 For Heidegger,
metaphysics is groundless precisely because it determ ines the
ground as support. I t is w ith this image th a t the o rig in a l sense
o f logos has been lost. O nly w ith and through metaphysics is the
41________________________________
T he Displacem ent o f A rc h ite c tu re

o rig in seen as a stable ground ra th e r than an abyss. The “m od­


e rn ” crisis, the “groundlessness” o f the vio le n t age o f technology,
is produced by philosophy’s ancient determ ination o f the
ground as support fo r a structure to w hich representations may
be added.18 The crisis o f representation is produced by the very
attem pt to remove representations in order to reveal the support­
in g presence o f the ground. We are alienated fro m the ground
precisely by th in k in g o f it as secure.
Just as Heidegger displaces philosophy’s sense o f itse lf as a
construction standing on a stable ground in favor o f philosophy
as a constructing-through-unbuilding, he also displaces the sense
o f the structures th a t philosophy describes. A lth ough follow ing
the tra d itio n ’s understanding o f being as a certain kin d o f “stand­
in g ,” it is no longer a standing on a stable ground, b u t a standing
based on a loss o f ground, a construction b u ilt on an “abyss.”
The abyss, the ru p tu rin g o f the fundam ental groun d o f things,
becomes their very cond ition o f possibility. Heidegger argues
that it is not sim ply th a t philosophy has always described its
proper object as being like a founded b u ild in g that stands.
Rather, it is only by virtue o f being readable in this way th a t
anything is recognized as an object in the firs t place.19 It is n o t
that being is grounded b u t “ bang in its e lf essentially conies to be as
grounding.”20 Consequently, “to the extent th a t being as such
grounds, it remains groundless.”21 In this way, both the b u ild in g
that is philosophy and the b u ild in g that it describes are radically
displaced.

T he D isplacem ent o f A rc h ite c tu re

These closely in te rre la te d displacements o f the institutionalized,


and therefore fam iliar, sense o f construction organize D e rrid a’s
texts long before architecture becomes a discrete subject w ith in
them . Heidegger’s re th in k in g o f b u ild in g is everywhere operative
in D errida’s work, w hich significantly began w ith an extended
reading o f Husserl. The term “deconstruction” its e lf derives d i­
rectly from H eidegger’s D estruktion and Abbau. In D e rrid a’s own
words, it is lite ra lly a “translation” o f those term s.22 Furtherm ore,
what is being translated is understood to be architectural. For
42______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

D errida, D estruktion means “n o t a destruction b u t precisely a


destructuring that dismandes the structural layers in the system”
and Abbau means “to take apart an edifice in order to see how
it is constituted o r deconstituted.”23 Both signify “an operation
bearing on the structure o r tra d itio n a l architecture o f the fu n ­
dam ental concepts o f ontology o r o f western metaphysics.”24 In
rem o bilizing these terms, D e rrid a follow s H eidegger’s argum ent
that this “destructuring” o r “u n b u ild in g ” disturbs a tra d itio n by
in h a b itin g its structure in a way that exploits its m etaphoric
resources against itself, n o t to abandon the structure b u t to
locate what it conceals.
The u n b u ild in g that is deconstruction is n o t a fo rm o f demo­
litio n . I t establishes the conditions o f possibility o f the “trad i­
tio n a l architecture” rather than staging its fa ll.25 To make a
b u ild in g trem ble is precisely n o t to collapse it by subjecting it to
some external force, b u t to explore it fro m w ith in , even to
consolidate the structure, im ita tin g its every gesture, fa ith fu lly
repeating its operations b u t in a way that exposes its lim its,
opening up its structure or, rather, fin d in g the openings th a t are
already there, the concealed points o f weakness: “In the course
o f this re p e titio n a barely perceptible displacem ent disjoints a ll
the articulations and penetrates a ll the points welded together
by the im itated discourse.”26 Like H eidegger’s Abbau and Destruk­
tion, this is an appropriation o f structures that identifies struc­
tura l flaws, cracks in the construction that have been
systematically disguised, n o t to collapse those structures but, on
the contrary, to dem onstrate the extent to which the structures
depend on both these flaws and the way they are disguised. T hat
is, it id entifies the structural role o f what tra d itio n a l philosophy
w ould id e n tify as structured flaws and, in so doing, displaces
rath er than dismantles that philosophy.
Deconstructive shaking, like the “shaking o f the foundations”
Heidegger describes in one o f his later readings o f Nietzsche,27
produces the sense o f stability as such rath er than its loss. A
structure does n o t sim ply collapse because it is erected on, and
fractured by, an abyss. O n the contrary, the fra ctu rin g o f the
ground is the very possibility o f the edifice. The abyss, as Der­
rid a ’s O f Grammatology argues, is a “structural necessity” :
43________________________________
T he D isplacem ent o f A rc h ite c tu re

A n d we shall see th a t this abyss is n o t a happy o r unhappy accident.


A n entire theory o f th e structural necessity o f d ie abyss w ifi be gradually
constituted in o u r reading; the in d e fin ite process o f supplem entarity
has always already in filtra te d presence . . . R epresentation in the abyss o f
presence is n o t an accident o f presence; the desire o f presence is, on
the contrary, born fro m the abyss . . . 28

The fissures in the ground that crack the structure are therefore
n o t flaws that can be repaired. The subterranean cavities cannot
be fille d . They do n o t weaken a previously secure ground. O n
the contrary, they produce the sense o f the ground in the firs t
place. In the end, they are the ground. B uildings are erected on
and by cracks. T here is no m ore stable ground to be found, no
unflawed bedrock. Consequently, the subversion o f structure
does n o t lead to a new structure. The flaws id e n tifie d in the
structure are the very source o f its strength. W hen the decon-
structive shaking o f a b u ild in g reveals structural weaknesses, they
are weaknesses th a t are structural.
This is to say th a t D e rrid a id entifies the strength o f a certain
weakness. Rather than abandoning a structure because its weak­
ness has been fo u n d (w hich w ould be to rem ain in com plicity
w ith the tra d itio n a l ideal o f a grounded structure and the whole
conceptual economy that follow s from it), deconstructive dis­
course displaces the architectural figure. S tructure becomes
“erected by its very ru in , held up by w hat never stops eating away
at its foundation.”29 T his enigm atic sense is operative everywhere
in D errida’s w ritin g as a kin d o f thread stitched in to each o f his
texts in a way that binds them together. In d a s, to name b u t one
example—and w ith in th a t exam ple to p o in t to b u t a few o f its
traces—it appears in the expression “ru in it by erecting it, per­
haps”30which is tie d in to an earlier com m ent th a t “the structure
o f the tower is such th a t its construction returns, stone by stone,
to its destruction,” w hich in tu rn is made in response to Genet’s
lin e , “the act o f b u ild in g his life m inute by m inute, witnessing its
construction, w hich is also progressive destruction.”31 This sense
o f construction th ro u g h destruction and ru in through b u ild in g
organizes the whole te xt at many d iffe re n t levels and binds it to
D e rrid a ’s other texts.
In these terms, deconstructive discourse is a fo rm o f in te rro ­
gation that shakes structure in order to id e n tify w hich o f its flaws
44
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

are structured. Rather than dem olish p a rticu la r structures, it dis­


places the very concept o f structure by locating w ith in it that
w hich is n e ith e r support n o r collapse. As D errida puts it in
“Force and S ignification,” “Structure then can be methodically
threatened in order to be com prehended m ore clearly and to
reveal n o t only its supports b u t also that secret place in w hich it
is n eith er construction n o r ru in b u t la b ility.”32 The edifice is
erected, that is, presents its e lf as a b u ild in g , only by concealing
this strange elem ent that exceeds its structural logic. A t the same
tim e, that logic depends on what it conceals. D econstruction is
concerned w ith that w hich exceeds b u ild in g , the confusion o f
structure th a t is hidden by it and yet makes it possible.
T his anarchitectural elem ent on w hich architecture depends
is n o t sim ply hidden underneath the b u ild in g o r below the
ground. I t is only its repression that produces the appearance o f
ground in the firs t place. The abyss is n o t sim ply the fra ctu rin g
o f the ground that lies under the edifice. I t is the in te rn a l
fra ctu rin g o f the structure, the convolution and com plication o f
the d istin ctio n between b u ild in g and architecture, structure and
ornam ent, presentation and representation. The u n d erm ining
o f the security o f the ground is equally the und erm ining o f the
possibility o f detaching ornam ent fro m structure. I f architecture
always inhabits and underpins the b u ild in g it is supposedly at­
tached to, it is precisely this convolution, w hich philosophy w ill
everywhere attem pt to overtly deny and covertly repress, that
makes possible the though t o f a ground that precedes the con­
struction o f an edifice, the central though t o f philosophy that
w ill always subordinate architecture as m erely a representational
addition. A rchitecture, that is, effects its own subordination to
b u ild in g . There w ould be no b u ild in g w ith o u t the self-efface­
m ent o f architecture. S tructure is an effect o f this w ithdraw al.
Inasm uch as it is always reading this effect, deconstructive dis­
course is always concerned w ith architecture.
B ut to elaborate the sense in w hich the architectural surface
is, in the end, the only b u ild in g site w ould be to explore only
one dim ension o f the double sense in w hich, as D errida argues,
n o th in g is m ore o r less architectural than deconstruction. Just as
deconstructive discourse offers a way o f com prehending archi-
45________________________________
The Displacem ent o f A rc h ite ctu re

tectural discourse, it also places the very idea o f architecture at


risk and is only deconstructive inasmuch as it does so. This
double attitude to architecture is evident in an extended passage
o f D errida’s Memoires: For P au l de M an, w hich responds to de
M an’s use o f an architectural figure in speaking o f allegory as
the “ defective cornerstone o f H egel’s system.” D e rrid a elaborates the
figure in some d etail:

We have here a fig u re o f w hat some m ight be tem pted to see as the
dom inant m etaphorical register, indeed the allegorical bent o f “decon­
s tru ctio n ,” a certain architectural rh e to ric. One firs t locates, in an
architectonics, in the a rt o f the system, the “neglected corners” and the
“ defective cornerstone,” th a t w hich, fro m the outset, threatens the co­
herence and the in te rn a l o rd e r o f the construction. B ut it is a corner­
stone! It is required by the architecture w hich it nevertheless, in
advance, deconstructs fro m w ith in . It assures its cohesion w hile situat­
in g in advance, in a way that is b oth visible and invisible (th a t is,
co rn e r), the site th a t lends its e lf to a deconstruction to come. The best
spot fo r efficiently in se rtin g the deconstructive lever is a cornerstone.
T here may be other analogous places b u t this one derives its privilege
fro m the fact that it is indispensable to the completeness o f the edifice.
A cond itio n o f erection, h o ld in g up the walls o f an established edifice,
it also can be said to m aintain it, to contain it, and to be tantam ount
to the generality o f the architectonic system, “o f the e n tire system.”33

Having disturbed the classical architectural figure by showing


how it is the very defects in certain b u ild in g elements that make
them central to the structure, the essay im m ediately distances
its e lf from the fig u re , arguing that “Paul de M an’s ‘deconstruc­
tive’ moves do n o t a ll obey this logic o r this ‘architectural’ rheto­
ric ,”34 and then arguing that, rather than operating w ith in any
particular edifice, deconstruction questions the very idea o f ar­
chitecture, or at least the dom inance o f a p a rticu la r account o f
architecture:

N o r do I think, b u t I w ill explain this elsewhere, th a t deconstruction— i f


there be such a th in g and it be one— is bound by the lin k that the w ord
suggests w ith the architectonic. Rather, it attacks the systemic (i.e.,
architectonic) co nstructionist account o f w hat is b ro u g h t together, o f
assembly.35

H ere D errida is again questioning “the authority o f the architec­


tu ra l m etaphor” in the same way as he does in several other
46______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

texts.36 A rguing that “one m ight be in clin e d ” to reach the con­


clusion that deconstruction is som ething that is already occupy­
in g an architecture, rather than a discourse “inserting” its e lf in to
it, such that “the disruptive force o f deconstruction is always
already contained w ith in the architecture o f the w ork,” he then
hesitates, p u ttin g this thought on hold: “Since I want neith e r to
accept o r reject a conclusion form ulated in these terms, le t us
leave the question hanging fo r a w h ile.” He nevertheless im ­
m ediately returns to the o rig in a l elaboration o f the tra d itio n a l
architectural m etaphor.37 A m ore radical questioning o f architec­
ture is announced and im m ediately suspended.
This sym ptomatic hesitation and ambivalence around architec­
ture punctuates m uch o f D e rrid a ’s w ritin g. Again, we have to ask:
in what way is the architectural dim ension o f deconstruction only
“what one m ig h t be tem pted to see as” central? In what way does
it, as he puts it elsewhere, m erely “resem ble” an architectural
gesture, a gesture that is “n o t the essence o f deconstruction.”38
W hat precisely is the seductive tem ptation o f architecture that
w ould lead us astray here? From what? W hat is the essential
quality o f deconstruction masked by architecture and where, if
anywhere, m ig h t it lead us? W hat does it mean to be astray in
deconstructive discourse anyway? In the end, what are the stakes
in architecture fo r deconstruction?

The E lusive P o litic s o f A rch ite ctu re

Before addressing these questions in order to pursue the im p li­


cations o f deconstruction fo r the in stitu tio n o f architecture,
it needs to be understood that deconstruction, firs t and fore­
most, bears upon the architecture o f institutions. W hen one o f
D e rrid a ’s firs t essays describes the deconstructive solicitation o f
structure, it sym ptom atically substitutes the word “in s titu tio n ”
fo r structure, even though the essay is n o t ostensibly about
institutions:

S tructure is perceived through the incidence o f menace, at the m om ent


when im m in e n t danger concentrates o u r vision on the keystone o f an
in s titu tio n , the stone w hich encapsulates both the possibility and the
fra g ility o f its existence.39
£7_________________________________
T he Elusive P olitics o f A rc h ite c tu re

T hroughout his w ork, when D errida speaks o f the architectural


m etaphor and its displacem ent, it is always a question o f the
status o f the in s titu tio n even if this question is raised in what
appears to be, at firs t, an oblique way. Furtherm ore, it is when
the question is n o t so oblique and he e xp licitly thematizes the
status o f in stitutio ns that the architectural m etaphor is m ost
e xp licit. When, fo r exam ple, the interview “Ja, ou le faux-bond”
rejects the im pression that deconstruction is the dism antling o r
dem olition o f an architecture in favor o f deconstruction as a
questioning o f the whole architectural rhetoric o f foundation,
construction, architectonics, and so on,40 it does so in the context
o f discussing the p o litics o f m aterialism , and beyond that, the
politics o f deconstruction itself: “a deconstructive practice that
had no bearing on ‘ in stitu tio n a l apparatuses and historical proc­
esses’ . . . which was satisfied to w ork on philosophem es o r con­
ceptual signifieds, discourses, etc., w ould n o t be deconstructive;
no m atter how o rig in a l it m ig h t be, it w ould reproduce the
auto-critical m ovem ent o f philosophy in its in te rn a l tra d itio n .”41
The questioning o f the very idea o f b u ild in g is aligned w ith a
questioning o f in s titu tio n a l authority. I t is the re th in kin g o f ar­
chitecture that defines the politics o f deconstruction.
W henever D errida addresses the politics o f deconstruction, he
does so by id e n tifyin g the centrality o f its th in k in g about in stitu ­
tions; this th in kin g is alm ost invariably presented in architectural
term s and is, in the end, about the status o f those very terms.
Institutions are understood as buildings that can be displaced
only by re th in kin g architecture. The association between the
question o f m aterialism and architecture is n o t coincidental. A t
the beginning o f “ Parergon,” when speaking o f the p o litica l
history o f a p articular in stitu tio n — the university— institutions in
general are credited w ith m ateriality by virtu e o f th e ir architec­
tura l condition:

We m ust take account o f certain specific relays, fo r exam ple those o f


so-called philosophy teaching in France, in the in s titu tio n o f its p ro ­
grams, its form s o f exam inations and com petitions, its scenes and its
rh e to ric . . . the co n stru ctio n o f the French U niversity and its p h ilo ­
sophical in stitu tio n — a ll the teaching structures th a t we s till in habit.
H ere I do no m ore than name, w ith a pro p e r nam e as one o f the
48______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

guid in g threads, the necessity o f a deconstruction. Follow ing the con­


sistency o f its logic, it attacks n o t only the in te rn a l edifice, b oth seman­
tic and fo rm a l, o f philosophem es, bu t also w hat one w ould be w rong
to assign to it as its external housing, its extrinsic conditions o f practice:
the h istorical form s o f its pedagogy, the social, econom ic o r p o litic a l
structures o f this pedagogical in s titu tio n . It is because deconstruction
interferes w ith solid structures, “m aterial” in stitutions, and n o t only
w ith discourses o r signifying representations, that it is always d istin ct
fro m an analysis o r a “c ritiq u e .”42

This slippage between politics and architecture is repeated


thro ugho ut D e rrid a ’s w ork but is most evident around the ques­
tio n o f the university. In the “The P rinciple o f Reason: The
U niversity in the Eyes o f its Pupils,” fo r example, he argues that
“it is impossible, now m ore than ever, to disassociate the w ork we
do . . . fro m a reflection on the p o litica l and in stitu tio n a l condi­
tions o f that w ork”43 and goes on to say that this refle ctio n must
displace the tra d itio n a l idea o f in stitu tio n : “what is m eant by
com m unity and in stitu tio n must be reth ough t.”44 This re th in kin g
o f in stitu tio n a l politics turns out to be architectural. The in stitu ­
tio n o f the university is understood to be architectural from the
beginning, a system that describes its e lf as a kin d o f b u ild in g and
organizes its e lf according to a rhetoric o f ground, footing, foun­
dation, structure, space, architectonics, and so on. In “Languages
and Institu tions o f Philosophy,” which reads “the properly archi­
tectonic o r architectural figure o f the in stitu tio n , as a founded
and structured edifice, constructed like an artifa ct,”45 D errida
argues that: “One cannot th in k o f the university in stitu tio n , as
an in stitu tio n o f reason. . . . w ith out this role o f architectonics.
There is no university architecture w ith o u t architectonics.”46
In carefully reading this “in stitu tio n a l architecture,” D errida is
follow ing Heidegger, who at one p o in t in his seminars on the
“p rin cip le o f ground” noted how the university is “b u ilt” [gebaut]
on that p rin cip le .47 D e rrid a ’s reading o f those seminars focuses
on the argum ent that inasmuch as this p rin cip le produces the
in stitu tio n devoted to its preservation and enforcem ent, it can­
n o t itse lf be grounded w ith in that in stitu tio n . The “space o f the
university” is founded on an abyss. The structure o f the b u ild in g
is erected on and by an instability that it cannot co n tro l even
though it everywhere declares its in te n t to do so. This argum ent
49_________________________________
The Elusive Politics o f A rc h ite c tu re

is continued in “M ochlos ou le c o n flit des facultes,” a reading o f


Kant’s architectonic description o f the university, when D errida
argues that the fo u n d in g , w hich is to say b u ild in g , o f a university
necessarily occurs on unstable grounds inasm uch as “a founding
act cannot be sim ply included in the logic o f what it founds.”48
The edifice is b u ilt on the abyss th a t it is designed to conceal
and that the essay is only able to id e n tify thro ugh an extended
interrogatio n o f the ostensibly architectural concept o f
“foundation.”
Again, this argum ent is explicidy concerned w ith politics. The
essay calls fo r each discourse to take account o f the specific
politics o f the in s titu tio n a l space th a t makes it possible: “I do say
that today, fo r anyone who belongs to an in stitu tio n o f teaching
and research, the m in im a l responsibility, and also the newest,
most pow erful, and m ost interesting, is to make as clear and
them atically e xp licit as possible such p o litica l im plications, th e ir
system, and its aporias.”49 A nd again, the p o litica l is understood
as architectural. To th in k o f the politics o f the in s titu tio n involves
placing in to question the tra d itio n a l sense o f b u ild in g , n o t to
sim ply dismantle any b u ild in g , b u t rath er to id e n tify the strange
ruses by which it assumes authority and to thereby disturb tradi­
tiona l relationships to that authority. The mechanisms o f author­
ity are n o t simply discredited o r destroyed. O n the contrary, they
become more form idable. Inasm uch as a structure is founded on
contradictions, it is reinforced rath er than threatened by those
strategies that im m ediately appear to be p o litica l. W hat is least
threatening is precisely that w hich appears most threatening.
In this sense, the com m on reactions to deconstructive dis­
course are all too symptomatic. Clearly deeply threatened in
some way by that discourse, tra d itio n a lly empowered discourses
(whether o f the o rth o d o x le ft o r rig h t) have labored very hard
to construct deconstructive discourse as one o f com plete demo­
litio n . Ironically, to render it less threatening, they have had to
construct it as tota lly threatening, an untenable fo rm o f n ih ilism
that can easily be dismissed. This construction requires a sus­
tained violence to the le tte r o f the texts being criticize d or, m ore
typically, an almost com plete ignorance o f them , both o f w hich
involve the abandonm ent o f the very academic principles sup-
50______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

posedly being upheld. In the end, such arguments m uch better


exem plify w hat they condem n than the texts they wish to dismiss.
The m ore radical threat o f deconstructive discourse lies precisely
in the extent to w hich it does n o t dem olish tra d itio n a l structures,
b u t id entifies the contradictions on w hich and, m ore precisely,
w ith w hich they are founded. In a rticula ting the enigmas o f
structure, such a discourse opens up other possibilities fo r p o liti­
cal action. In so doing, the status o f the tra d itio n a l image o f
b u ild in g , as reproduced in Kant’s text, necessarily becomes
unclear:

Reading this te xt today, I appreciate its assurance and sense o f necessity


as one m ig h t adm ire the rig o r o f a plan o r structure one apprehends
through the breeches o f an edifice th a t is uninhabitable, and w hich
leaves one unable to decide w hether it is in a state o f ru in o r has sim ply
never existed, never been able to do m ore than shelter the discourse
o f its own in com pletion .50

I t is precisely this suspension o f the status o f b u ild in g , rather


them any singular determ ination o f it, th a t makes the reading
p o litica l. The uncertainty about the edifice becomes the basis o f
D e rrid a’s attem pt to threaten n o t only “the entire architecture”51
o f Kant’s text b u t also the entire Kantian corpus that represents
its e lf in architectural term s and, in the end, the ancient in stitu ­
tio n o f philosophy in w hich it is embedded.
W hat both in stitu tio n a l authority and those gestures th a t im ­
m ediately appear to d isru p t it share is a com m itm ent to a sense
o f determ ination o r decision, the sense th a t clear lines can and
should be drawn. D errida interferes w ith this sense n o t by, as is
so often and so incorrecdy asserted, prom oting a generalized
indeterm inacy, a sense th a t decisions can never be made, but, on
the contrary, arguing that decisions are always made, n o t in spite
o f an unavoidable indeterm inacy b u t on the very basis o f it.
There is an undecidability b u ilt in to every decision. A nd this
argum ent is n o t sim ply applied to the idea o f a b u ild in g , as the
sense o f determ ination can never be separated from the sense o f
a bu ild in g .
The specific questioning o f the in stitu tio n a l architecture o f the
university and the in s titu tio n o f philosophy that organizes it is
actually a general questioning o f the in stitu tio n as such. The
51_________________________________
The Elusive Politics o f A rc h ite c tu re

university is not sim ply a specific exam ple o f the general problem
o f the political, one that uniquely dictates an architectural read­
in g o r rereading o f architecture. Rather, the p o litic a l question is
firs t and forem ost one o f architecture. D e rrid a ’s essays often
elaborate H eidegger’s id e n tifica tio n o f architecture w ith in stitu ­
tions in general. H eidegger paid attention to the way in w hich
the language o f in s titu tio n is that o f b u ild in g , the w ord stiften
m eaning both “to erect” o r “ to in stitu te ” and grunden m eaning
both “to ground” o r “to fo u n d .”52 The tra d itio n a l architectural
rhetoric employed to describe the in stitu tio n o f the university is
actually the language o f in stitutio ns in general, w hich is to say
that the idea o f philosophy, w hich turns on a certain repre­
sentation o f architecture, is the idea o f in stitu tio n . There is no
in stitu tio n w ith out th a t representation.
For Derrida, an in s titu tio n is n o t sim ply a space w ith in which
a particular kind o f discourse occurs. In stitu tions are b u ilt in and
by discourse. Furtherm ore, “a concept o f the in s titu tio n is at
w ork”53 in all discourses, w hether they address themselves to
institutions or not. T his concept involves the same p rin cip le o f
reason, understood as a p rin cip le o f architecture, responsible for,
b u t n o t specific to, university discourse. A t one p o in t, D errida
elaborates Kant’s argum ent that “a ll a rtific ia l in stitutio ns . . . are
grounded in reason.”54 In these term s, his reading o f the univer­
sity is n o t simply an example o f his p o litica l w ork. It elaborates
the politics o f all o f his work, a politics th a t is always architectural,
even where neither architecture n o r politics are made them atic,
w hich is to say, m ost o f the tim e. B u t it is a politics that can never
sim ply be recognized as such even i f attention is paid to D e rrid a’s
sustained argum ent about institutions, w hich is usually and symp­
tom atically ignored by both his supporters and critics. This p o li­
tics cannot be recognized as such by discourses th a t m aintain the
very sense o f architecture being called in to question.

The in stitu tio n is n o t sim ply the walls and structures th a t surround,
protect, guarantee, o r re strict the freedom o f o u r w ork. It is also and
already the structure o f o u r in te rp re ta tio n . Consequently, w hat is some­
w hat hastily called deconstruction is n o t, i f it is o f any consequence, a
specialized set o f discursive procedures, s till less the rules o f a new
herm eneutic m ethod, w orking on texts o r utterances in the shelter o f
52______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

a given and stable in s titu tio n . It is also, at the very least, a way o f taking
a position, in its w ork o f analysis, concerning the p o litic a l and in s titu ­
tio n a l structures th a t make possible and govern o u r practice, o u r com­
petencies, o u r perform ances. Precisely because it is never concerned
only w ith signified content, deconstruction should n o t be separable
fro m the p o litic o -in s titu tio n a l problem atic and should seek a new in ­
vestigation o f responsibility, an investigation w hich questions the codes
in h e rite d fro m ethics and politics. This means that, too p o litic a l fo r
some, it w ill seem paralyzing to those who o nly recognize p o litics by
the m ost fa m ilia r road signs.55

I f it is its displacem ent o f the tra d itio n a l and fa m ilia r sense o f


b u ild in g that makes deconstructive discourse p o litica l, it is
equally a displacem ent o f the fa m ilia r sense o f the p o litica l.
D econstruction cannot sim ply be p o litic a l inasmuch as “ the po­
litic a l” as a category is a product o f the always architectural
tra d itio n o f metaphysics, one o f the texts that the discourse reads
and overturns.56 Hence the by now fa m ilia r scene in w hich the
discourse is sim ultaneously condem ned fo r being too p o litica l by
some and fo r being apolitical by others. This scene has, o f
course, been the topic o f an extended debate. A ll that is being
added to th a t debate here is that deconstructive discourse is
p o litica l inasm uch as it engages w ith architecture b u t precisely
because th a t engagement takes the fo rm o f a displacem ent o f
architecture, it necessarily loses any straightforw ard p o litica l rec­
ogn ition , no m atter how many times its significant interventions
in to tra d itio n a l p o litica l sites can be p ointed to.57 In the end, it
rethinks the p o litica l by re th in kin g architecture, and this re th in k­
in g is n o t sim ply a discursive refle ctio n on the possibility o f
p o litica l action, b u t is its e lf a fo rm o f action, as the architecture
th a t is being displaced is n o t detached fro m discourse b u t b u ilt
in to and by its every operation.
Evidence o f such a tacit argum ent can be found w ith in a 1985
interview w ith D errida, w hich yet again passes fro m the question
o f the university through the issue o f p o litics to that o f architec­
ture. In response to a question about the politics o f deconstruc­
tio n , D e rrid a describes “deconstruction as p olitics” by virtu e o f
its focus on institutions and describes its effects in architectural
terms, or, rather, in term s o f a displacem ent o f the tra d itio n a l
idea o f b u ild in g :
53_________________________________
T he Elusive P olitics o f A rc h ite c tu re

B ut I d o n ’t th in k th a t anything, especially an in s titu tio n , could survive


deconstruction in the classical fo rm o f a new w o n d e rfu l b u ild in g , b u ilt
after the negative m om ent o f deconstruction. I f somebody thinks
that— that firs t we have to deconstruct everything and then we’ll have
a new kin d o f society, a new k in d o f university . . . th a t w ould be the
reproduction o f the oldest schemes. W hat survives deconstruction
should have new form s.58

Deconstructive discourse can never be detached fro m architec­


ture. It can never be extracted from what it destabilizes. I f it
disturbs the architecture o f in stitu tio n s fro m w ith in , this distur­
bance also occurs w ith in itself. I t is n o t a d rifte r that sim ply
occupies and dislodges an architecture before m oving on. I t is
never singular, never ju s t one coherent discourse and, fu rth e r­
m ore, each o f its m u ltip le discourses is its e lf divided, occupied
even, by the very architecture they seem to in h a b it and disturb.
The role o f these in te rn a l divisions and com plications can be
clearly seen in D e rrid a ’s “Some Statements and Truism s,” an
essay that again id e n tifie s the politics o f deconstruction by way
o f an extended ta c it association between in stitutio ns and archi­
tecture, but now focuses on the architecture o f deconstruction
itself. The essay also removes the distin ctio n between the content
o f discourse and the architecture o f in stitutio ns in a way that
again problematizes the tra d itio n a l category o f the p o litica l,69 b u t
it goes fu rth e r by raising the question o f what w ould be involved
in in stitutio nalizin g deconstructive discourse itself, in the univer­
sity, fo r example. H aving spoken o f the architecture im p lic it in
any act o f in stitu tio n by describing the “hierarchizing structure
o f an establishment,” 60 it looks at the establishm ent o f contem po­
rary “theory” as the construction o f “in stitu tio n a l fo rtifica tio n s” 61
that define a space w ith in the university, closing it o ff rather than
opening it up. Deconstructive discourse is seen to be divided in to
at least two in terrela ted and inevitable gestures: one that puts
an architecture a t risk, destabilizing an in s titu tio n , and another
that consolidates its own movements in to some k in d o f stable
architecture.
The destabilizing gesture w ith w hich deconstructive discourse
identifies itself involves occupying the cracks in the o fficia l archi­
tecture, the hidden recesses o f the in s titu tio n ’s structure rather
54______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

than any o f its o fficia lly designated spaces, forcing the cracks to
see what they hide. But the less obvious stabilizing gesture occu­
pies the host in quite a d iffe re n t way. The deconstructive shaking
o f structure somehow builds itse lf in to the in stitu tio n , fo rm in g
its own architecture in some kin d o f alignm ent w ith that o f the
university, w hich is able to absorb its potentially disruptive move­
ments by absorbing the shock, accom m odating it through what
turns o u t to be a fundam entally conservative fle xib ility, a fle xin g
o f its structure to house and thereby restrain the would-be rebel:
“in stitu tio n a l architectures are erected to respond to the seisms
o r seismisms o f all the new isms w hich m ig h t shake the struc­
tures.” 62 The stabilizing dim ension o f deconstructive discourse
that can be o fficia lly accommodated, up to a point, “goes up­
wards. It stands, a station, o r a stanza; it erects, institutes, and
edifies. I t is edifying, essentially edifying.” 63 Yet again, the bond
between this quasi-institutional architecture and that o f its host
is th e ir m ateriality. The stabilizing m om ent o f the discourse, like
that o f the in stitu tio n it occupies, consolidates its e lf by way o f
“the strength o f m aterials— that w hich architects m ust carefully
calculate in order to avoid collapses.” 64
B ut these two gestures can never sim ply be separated. One is
the ve iling o f the other, a veiling that can never detach its e lf from
what it veils. The two are folded together. Deconstructive dis­
course is n o t some kin d o f independent argum ent applied to
d iffe re n t in stitu tio n a l discourses. The story it tells is also its own
story. Rather than a subversive discourse o f liberation, it always
speaks o f its own entrapm ent in the economy it describes. The
apparent stabilization o f deconstructive discourse in the univer­
sity is n o t sim ply a degeneration o f an original, rigorous, o r
authentic discourse, an unfortunate p o litic a l com prom ise that
weakens its destabilizing movements. Rather, it is b u t one o f the
marks o f the stabilizing gestures that can be found in every one
o f its texts. There can be no deconstruction w ith o u t architecture.
A t the same tim e, no deconstructive discourse is as stable as it
appears. S tability and in stab ility cannot be separated. In the end,
what makes the in stitu tio n trem ble is precisely th e ir interdepend­
ence, the sense in which the erection o f a structure always con­
ceals the vio latio n o f that structure, w hich is to say the sense that
55_________________________________
The Elusive Politics o f A rch ite ctu re

architecture is always trem bling, th a t its very stability is but an


effect o f the repression o f the unco ntrollab le movements in its
very foundation, the movements th a t fo u n d it.65
This sense o f the trem bling o f architecture is invoked in the
1977 interview “D u T o u t,” when D e rrid a makes an analogy be­
tween the position he fin d h im self in as an apparent foreigner
in a m eeting o f a p a rticu la r in stitu tio n (a psychoanalytic organi­
zation) and deconstruction’s position w ith in institutions. Decon­
struction is described as that w hich occupies the in terna l
structure o f an in s titu tio n in such a way that its operations are
only revealed by way o f some kin d o f radical thre at to the host
architecture, a th re a t that is understood to be p o litic a l precisely
to the extent that it is a threat to th a t w hich is usually understood
to be political:

[T ]h is evening someone fro m the alleged outside o f yo u r in stitu tio n


has been invited . . . someone who does n o t show him se lf o ften, a kin d
o f beast who emerges fro m his hole o n ly at the m om ent when he hears
o r feels com ing tow ard h im the vibrations o f cracked walls, o f collapsing
pa rtitio n s, o f tre m b lin g supports, o f threatened im perm eability, etc., in
a w ord a ll the signs o f w hat I have fo rm e rly called a deconstruction;
and deconstruction, as I have often had to insist, is n o t a discursive o r
theoretical affair, b u t a practico -p o litica l one, and it is always produced
w ith in the structures (somewhat quickly and sum m arily) said to be
in stitu tio n a l.66

The interview goes on to describe deconstructive discourse in


term s o f locating th a t w hich is hidden, rath er than sim ply en­
closed, by the architecture o f an in s titu tio n (in this case, that o f
psychoanalysis), th a t w hich the architecture is designed to veil
and yet is the source o f its strength. Again, the basic structure o f
architecture, that w hich produces the effect o f solidity and secu­
rity, is understood to be its capacity to conceal. A structure is only
able to stand by concealing som ething, som ething that occupies
the space o f the b u ild in g w ith o u t being visible w ith in it, some­
th in g that can o n ly be fo u n d w ith in the in stitu tio n a l discourse
and yet always exceeds it, som ething w ith in b u t inaccessible to
the discourse that actually organizes its architecture.

T his unanalyzed w ill be, w ill have been th a t upon w hich and around
w hich the analytic m ovem ent w ill have been constructed and m obi-
56______________________
U n b u ild in g A rch ite ctu re

lized: everything w ill have been constructed and calculated so that this
unanalyzed m ig h t be in h e rite d , protected, transm itted intact, suitably
bequeathed, consolidated, enkysted, encrypted. It is w hat gives its struc­
ture to the m ovem ent and to its architecture.67

The space o f a b u ild in g is constructed to enclose som ething that


m ust never appear w ith in it. The visible enclosure, the d e fin itio n
o f a space w ith walls that makes things visible both inside it and
outside it, is firs t and forem ost a mechanism o f concealm ent that
veils another kin d o f space inhabited by a p rohibited other, or,
m ore precisely, veils a space that is itse lf the other inasm uch as
it disrupts the logic o f inhabitation. By shaking architecture,
deconstructive discourse forces this other o u t in to the space that
is supposed to conceal it, dem onstrating that its effects can
actually be found thro ugho ut that space in a ll the ro u tin e trans­
actions that go on w ith in it, and even that the space its e lf that
routine ly conceals it is its firs t effect.
In these term s, the question being asked here about decon­
struction and architecture must be: what happens when the
in stitu tio n whose architecture is to be shaken is that o f architec­
ture itself? W hat exactly is the architecture o f the in stitu tio n o f
architecture? Can there even be such a thing? And what w ould
it conceal? W hat is it that is buried in and by the discourse
apparently devoted to architecture?
To begin to approach these increasingly urgent questions, we
need to determ ine m ore precisely what the in stitutio nalized
sense o f architecture is by going fu rth e r in to the tra d itio n a l
figure o f the edifice to fin d o u t what kin d o f in te rio r the b u ild in g
has, what k in d o f space, if any, is constructed by the fig u re as it
circulates through tra d itio n a l discourse and what kinds o f rela­
tionsh ip D e rrid a ’s w ork has to that space. This necessitates a
re tu rn to Heidegger, i f n o t a succession o f returns that patiendy
track the com plicated ro le o f architecture in his w ork beyond its
m ore obvious surfacing in the concept o f “destruction” o r “c riti­
cal u n b u ild in g ,” which D e rrid a’s w ork so e xp licitly elaborates at
length.
To com prehend the p ro h ib ite d sense o f architecture buried
w ith in the classical figure o f the edifice and whatever m ig h t be,
in tu rn , buried w ith in that sense, to trace th e ir strategic role in
57_________________________________
The Elusive P olitics o f A rch ite ctu re

deconstructive discourse, it is necessary to reread Heidegger


m ore closely. Inasm uch as “deconstruction” is a translation o f
Heidegger, it is, as D e rrid a once puts it, a “deform ing transla­
tio n ,” which like a ll translations reconstructs, transform s, abuses,
and distances its e lf from what it appears to translate.68 I f to
translate deconstruction in architecture is to th in k about the
senses in which deconstruction is already some kin d o f transla­
tio n o f architecture, what m atters here is the precise ways in
w hich Derrida at once reconstructs and deform s Heidegger’s
architecture before distancing him self fro m it— even, if n o t espe­
cially, i f he never addresses H eidegger’s architecture as such.
3
T h e S lip p e ry A r t o f Space

Having id entified the crucial role o f a certain image o f architec­


ture in the philosophical tra d itio n , Heidegger’s sustained at­
tem pt to displace th a t tra d itio n necessarily involves an ongoing
displacement o f th a t representation. A t one level, this takes the
fo rm o f a reconfiguration o f the image but, even m ore im por­
tant, it involves a transform ation o f its status, w hich is to say, both
a repositioning o f the image and a d isru p tio n o f its very status
as an image.
As we have seen, the figure o f architecture produced and
sustained by the tra d itio n o f metaphysics makes available the
organizing principles o f that tra d itio n , w hich then appear to
precede it and are actually used to subordinate it as m erely a
superstructural representation, a contingent fig u re to be dis­
carded. But these e x p lic it gestures o f subordination only serve
to cover and m aintain the ongoing covert operations o f that very
figure w ith in the discourse, operations that depend on it n o t
being understood as a fig u re but as a special kin d o f touchstone,
a m aterial reality whose irre d u cib le order can be used to stabilize
and order the discourse that makes contact w ith it. The discourse
is only able to stabilize its e lf w ith this fig u re o f stability by effacing
its figural co nd ition and effacing the traces o f th a t effacement.
In such elaborate b u t ro u tin e operations, the sense o f architec­
ture becomes so fa m ilia r that it is n o t understood to be a repre­
sentation. A sense o f the irre d u cib le solidity o f construction is
seen to precede representation, and this precedence is n o t some-
60________________________
The S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

th in g addressed by the discourse as such b u t is constandy drawn


on, and only occasionally appealed to, in order to organize that
discourse. Before it m ight choose to discuss the ground, le t alone
the kinds o f structure it m ig h t support, the discourse has already
p u t a b u ild in g in place.
Heidegger argues that because o f the very fa m ilia rity o f the
sense o f grounded structure that organizes the curre nt techno­
logical m anifestations o f metaphysics, “we most easily and fo r the
longest tim e mistake the insidious nature o f its violence.” 1There
w ould be no metaphysics w ith o u t this concealed violence. Both
the violence and its concealm ent are constitutional. The tra d i­
tio n o f metaphysics institutes its e lf by concealing its own vio­
lence. The architectural figure o f the grounded structure
sustains this violence by effecting the concealm ent. The vertical
hierarchy it configures is a mechanism o f control that dissimu­
lates its own strategic violence. Its very fa m ilia rity marks the
extent o f its control.
T his argum ent does n o t appear to be about architecture as
such. A t best it seems to call in to question the architectural
figure, to render it inescapably metaphysical. B ut Heidegger does
n o t sim ply abandon architecture. The sense that architecture
cannot be displaced in the way that the philosophical tra d itio n
based around it can is precisely the effect o f that tra d itio n .
Heidegger’s reading is made possible by another sense o f archi­
tecture. The elaborate play between the tra d itio n a l architecture
and the often oblique effects o f this other architecture in his
w ork can be m ore easily follow ed in his re flection on the p h i­
losophy o f art, or, m ore precisely, his use o f a rt to displace
philosophy. T he com plex interactions between the m u ltip le lev­
els o f architectural argum ent that operate in all his texts are
m ore conspicuous when the relationship between philosophy
and a rt is e xp licitly in question.

T a sting Space

It is significant that Heidegger’s well-known criticism o f the tra­


d itio n a l philosophy o f a rt in The O rig in o f the Work o f A rt, like
Kant’s The C ritique o ffudgem ent, w hich exem plifies the tra d itio n
61___________
Tasting Space

it is criticizing, turn s on an architectural example. But unlike


K ant’s text, its exam ple disturbs the fa m ilia r understanding o f
b uild ing, and it is arguably this disturbance that becomes the
basis o f his overall displacem ent o f aesthetics, i f n o t his entire
philosophy.
Like the tra d itio n , Heidegger appeals to architecture fo r its
fam iliarity. A t the beginning o f the essay, he notes how “fa m ilia r”
works o f a rt are to “ everyone,” and architecture is his firs t exam­
ple o f this fam iliarity. A nd when architecture returns at a key
p o in t in the m iddle o f the essay, it is again a question o f fa m ili­
arity. “In order to become m ore fa m ilia r w ith w hat the question
[where does a w o rk o f a rt belong?] involves,” Heidegger puts
forw ard the example o f “a b u ild in g ”— specifically, a Greek tem­
ple— which is elaborated fo r some pages.2 I t appears that the
fa m ilia rity o f architecture is going to be used to make an unfa­
m ilia r philosophical question m ore fam iliar, b u t in the process
architecture is its e lf defam iliarized.
Heidegger starts w ith what seems to be the fa m ilia r cond ition
o f a build ing—“ I t sim ply stands there in the m iddle o f the rock-
cle ft valley”3—b u t goes on to show how this standing is n o t so
simple. For a start, the b u ild in g is n o t sim ply seen standing in a
pregiven site. Rather, the site can only be seen through the
b uild ing. The e d ifice “makes visible” the ground on w hich it
stands: “The tem ple, in its standing there, firs t gives to things
th e ir look and to m en th e ir outlo ok on themselves.”4 It is n o t
sim ply looked a t by an eye, aesthetic o r otherwise. Rather, it
constructs the eye. Furtherm ore, this newly constructed eye is
n o t directed fro m the b u ild in g toward its site. I t produces w hat
it sees. The b u ild in g produces its site. It does n o t stand on a
ground that preceded it and on w hich it depends fo r its struc­
tu ra l integrity. Rather, it is the erection o f the b u ild in g that
establishes the fundam ental co n d itio n o f the ground. The b u ild ­
in g ’s structure makes the ground possible.5 The ground is con­
stituted rather than sim ply revealed by that w hich appears to be
added to it. To locate the ground is therefore necessarily to
construct an edifice.
This transform ation o f the fa m ilia r sense o f b u ild in g is n o t
lim ite d to H eidegger’s reflections on art. H is texts repeatedly
62________________________
T he S lippery A rt o f Space

id e n tify construction w ith the production o f a view that produces


the very ground it appears to be supported on, as when the th ird
volum e o f Nietzsche argues that:
First and foremost, thinking is “constructive.” Generally, that means
that this thinking first fashions what does not yet stand and exist as
something at hand, something that perhaps never was at all. It does
not appeal to and depend upon something given for support; it is not
an assimilation but is what announced itself to us as die poetizing
nature of positing a horizon within a perspective. “Constructing” means
not only producing something that is not yet at hand but also setting
up and erecting, rising to the heights—more precisely, first gaining a
height, securing it, and thus positing a “right direction.” Thus “con­
structing” is a commanding that first raises the claim to command and
creates a realm o f command.
Insofar as construction fashions, it must at the same time and even
prior to this be founded on a ground. Together with rising to the
heights, it at the same time forms and opens a vista onto its surround­
ings. The essence of construction lies neither in piling up layers o f
building materials nor in ordering them according to a plan, but solely
in the fact that when we set up a new space another atmosphere opens
up, precisely through what is set up. Whenever that fails to happen,
what has been built has to be explained afterward as a “symbol” for
something else; it is established as such by the newspapers for the
public. Construction in these two cases is never the same. Justice as the
positing o f something right, a positing that constructs—that is, founds,
erects and opens a vista—is the essential origin o f the poetizing and
commanding nature o f all knowing and forming.6

T his displacem ent is also e xp licitly w ritte n in to his general re­


reading o f the architecture w ritten in to the tra d itio n o f philoso­
phy. The k in d o f ground clearing that Kant e xp licitly attempts,
and that im p lic itly organizes the ancient philosophical tra d itio n
his texts participate in , does n o t precede the construction o f the
philosophical edifice. The ground is n o t independent o f the
edifice. The edifice is n o t sim ply added to a preexisting ground,
it is sim ply n o t an addition. A nd, as we have seen, fo r Heidegger
this transform ation o f the b u ild in g o f philosophy is equally a
transform ation o f philosophy’s object, w hich is tra d itio n a lly pre­
sented in architectural terms. Being is n o t ju s t a standing on a
ground; it is its e lf grounding, a standing th a t grounds.7 In the
end, it is the ground and, as such, is its e lf n o t grounded. The
ground is an abyss, the G rund is Abgrund .8
63___________
Tasting Space

In elaborating such argum ents, Heidegger is n o t m aking an


analogy between architecture as a m aterial artw ork and the ab­
stract workings o f philosophy. H e does n o t produce a new de­
scription o f lite ra l buildings in o rd e r to transform the
m etaphoric use o f architecture by philosophy when it is n o t
addressing architecture as such. O n die contrary, he produces a
d iffe re n t image o f architecture to efface, o r at least com plicate,
that very d istinction between the lite ra l and the m etaphoric, a
distinction that is an effect o f the figure o f architecture before
it is a philosophical distin ctio n applied to i t
The philosophy o f a rt Heidegger opposes is produced by and
fo r metaphysics and is therefore based on the tra d itio n a l image
Of architecture w ith w hich that tra d itio n constitutes itself. T his
image, and its sym ptom atic effects, can be found throughout
Heidegger’s essay on the artw ork even though he rarely makes
it them atic as such. W hen he does address architecture, nam ing
it as an example, it is n o t one exam ple am ong the other arts that
could have been used to make the same p o in t about the condi­
tio n o f art, all o f w hich supposedly have the same properties
inasmuch as they are arts. A rchitecture is operative in his argu­
m ent both before and after it is named as an exam ple. By lo okin g
m ore closely at the text, it becomes evident th a t architecture is
both the agent o f the subordination o f a rt by philosophy and
Heidegger’s agent in overturn ing that subordination.
The essay begins by opposing phUosophy’s determ ination o f
the artw ork as m erely a representative “a d d itio n ” to a u tilita ria n
object, a “superstructure” added to the “substructure” w hich, in
tu rn , is added to the ground. The architectural fig u re organizes
this relationship: “I t seems almost as though the th in g ly elem ent
in the art work is lik e the substructure in to and upon which the
other, authentic elem ent is b u ilt” 9 The m aterial object is the
“support” to which the artw ork is added; the presentation o f the
ground to which the artw ork is added as b u t a representation.
W hich is to say th a t art, fo r metaphysics, is n o t structural. A rt is
precisely that w hich exceeds structure and therefore needs to be
subordinated to it. W hat is privileged in a rt is necessarily subor­
dinated in metaphysics as m erely a representation o f an “idea.”
A rt is detached and subordinate to the tru th it may o r may n o t
64________________________
The Slippery A rt o f Space

represent. In this way, one o f the arts— architecture— is the


mechanism o f the subordination o f a ll art.
Heidegger attempts to resist this subordination, arguing that
the tru th sought by the philosophical tra d itio n is actually made
possible by the very realm o f a rt it subordinates. A rt is n e ith e r a
representational dom ain detached fro m the philosophical quest
fo r the tru th , n o r a source o f representations that can be em­
ployed strategically, but only tem porarily, by philosophy to de­
scribe that quest o r illu strate a p o in t made w ith in it. Philosophy
is unthinkable outside o f art. To argue this, Heidegger necessar­
ily disturbs the image o f architecture that made the subordina­
tion possible in the firs t place. A rchitecture must be his key
example. Indeed, it is produced at the beginning o f the central
section o f the essay e n title d "The W ork and T ru th .” The way the
tem ple produces rather than represents the ground becomes his
paradigm o f the constitutional role o f a rt in the very production
o f tru th .
The revision o f the relationship between philosophy and a rt
that the example initiates is itse lf presented in architectural
term s at the end o f the essay when Heidegger argues that a rt is
actually “foundational” to the philosophical tra d itio n that subor­
dinates it to the level o f ornam ent. The whole p o in t o f the essay
is to describe a rt as “foun d in g tru th .” T he reversal it seeks is itse lf
architectural from the beginning. The essay is necessarily ad­
dressing architecture before it appears to speak about it.
In fact, the particular m om ent die essay speaks about architec­
ture is in the m iddle o f an argum ent fram ed in architectural
term s n o t id e n tifie d as such. Heidegger calls in the exam ple o f
architecture to answer the question: how does a w ork o f a rt
“stand on its own”? The standing up o f a tem ple is used to
explain the standing up o f art, the standing that he w ill later
say, when no longer speaking o f architecture, founds tru th , the
standing that grounds. The architectural “exam ple” he invokes
provides the key concepts w ith which a rt is now to be thought:
“standing,” “towering up,” “erection,” “arising,” “placing,”
“foun d in g .” These term s dom inate the end o f the essay b u t they
have been transform ed, and it is the labor o f this transform ation
65___________
Tasting Space

that is the central w ork o f the essay. The fa m ilia r sense o f archi­
tecture, indeed its very fam iliarity, has been progressively
displaced.
Its not so m uch th a t Heidegger appeals to strange elements in
our fam iliar experience o f buildings that are n o t acknowledged
by the tradition. H e does n o t even id e n tify architecture as an
object o f “experience.” Rather, experience is understood as an
effect o f the in stitu tio n a l tra d itio n organized around a particular
image o f architecture, a construct that has been in stitutio nalized
to the extent th a t is fam iliar, so fa m ilia r that it can even act as a
figure fo r the fam iliar. I t is by defam iliarizing architecture that
Heidegger disturbs the tra d itio n . The foun d in g o f tru th by art,
w hich is exem plified by a b u ild in g , becomes the establishm ent
o f the unfam iliar rath er than the fam iliar. Indeed, the essay
concludes by d e fin in g founding as the u n fa m ilia r “overflow ing”
the fam iliar. This fo u n d in g is its e lf understood as the possibility
o f the in stitu tio n o f philosophy, even i f that in stitu tio n seeks to
efface the unfam iliar, w hich is to say that philosophy effaces its
own conditions o f possibility. The enigm atic and self-effacing
question o f architecture is, as it were, b u ilt in to the in stitu tio n .
W hen architecture comes up in the essay, it is in response to
a question that is at once architectural and in stitu tio n a l. To ask
how the work o f a rt stands on its own is explicitly, fo r Heidegger,
to ask how it stands unim peded by the in stitutio ns o f the “art-
in dustry” that fram e it: the spaces o f “collections and exhibi­
tions,” “connoisseurs,” “critics,” “a rt dealers,” and “art-historical
study.” He argues th a t the “setting-up” o f the art-w ork by these
institutions, in clu d in g that o f philosophy, w hich ostensibly p u t
them in place, is somehow produced by the art-work itself, its
fundam ental co n d itio n as a setting-up, the co nd ition exem plified
by a building. The art-w ork produces its in stitu tio n a l sites ju s t as
the temple produces its site, even i f those institutions fa il to
recognize the essence o f the art-work. A lth ough the structure o f
such institutions is d iffe re n t from , and insensitive to, that o f a
bu ild in g , it is called fo r and made possible by such building.
In these terms, H eidegger’s displacem ent o f architecture is
firs t and forem ost a re th in kin g o f in stitu tio n a l authority. The
66
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

philosopher-architect who attempts to produce a grounded struc­


ture is n o t sim ply adding a b u ild in g to the ground. Philosophy
does n o t emerge from and present the ground; it produces the
effect o f ground, an effect o f stability th a t veils a fundam ental
instability. The figure o f architecture acts as a veil, enabling
philosophy to disguise its active ordering o f the w orld as the
neutral discovery o f the w o rld ’s preexisting order. In this way,
Heidegger’s re th in kin g o f architecture appears to provide the
term s fo r a radical dism anding o f the tra d itio n .
B ut in the end Heidegger’s account reproduces m uch o f what
it critiques. H is u n tra d itio n a l th in kin g o f architecture is eventu­
ally detached fro m architecture. A rchitecture is once again sub­
ordinated to and by the very arguments it has made available.
Heidegger’s account o f architecture rem ains one o f presenta­
tion. Indeed, when the essay speaks o f architecture, it does so
precisely to bracket o ff representation: “For this attem pt le t us
deliberately select a w ork that cannot be ranked as repre­
sentational art. A b u ild in g , a Greek tem ple, portrays nothing. I t
sim ply stands there in the m iddle o f the rock-cleft valley.” 10
Heidegger’s progressive displacem ent o f this “simply,” his com­
p licatio n o f w hat it is to stand, continues to draw a clear distinc­
tio n between standing and representation. I t redraws rath er than
abandons the lin e that the in stitutio ns o f philosophy have always
been concerned to m aintain, and have done so by appealing to
architecture.
Inasm uch as that distin ctio n is redrawn, architecture is inevi­
tably m aintained in its tra d itio n a l place. T his can be seen at the
end o f the essay, where the concepts that were earlier p u t in place
w ith the example o f architecture are appropriated by the a rt o f
poetry, the highest a rt that then “governs” the low er arts like
architecture. A rchitecture is subordinated to the im m ediacy o f
poetic speech in the very term s that it has provided (a gesture
th a t he elaborates in m ore detail in his lectures o f 1942-43 on
Parm enides11). If, as Heidegger argues, philosophy ro u tin e ly sub­
ordinates the arts that are its possibility, Heidegger’s own argu­
m ent ends up subordinating the a rt o f architecture on w hich it
is based, reconstituting the tra d itio n he critiques, and opening
up his te xt to its own criticism .
67_________
Spaced O u t

Spaced O u t

D e rrid a’s work is shaped by a reading o f this systemic d u p licity


in Heidegger’s texts. In “Restitutions o f the T ru th o f P o intin g,”
his extended reading o f Heidegger’s essay on the artw ork, he
notes, “I have always been convinced o f the strong necessity o f
Heidegger’s questioning, even if it repeats here, in the worst as
w ell as the best sense o f the word, the tra d itio n a l philosophy o f
art. A nd convinced o f its necessity, perhaps, to the very extent
that it does this.” 12 T his com m ent marks his consistently com pli­
cated and am biguous relationship to Heidegger, and must in
some way mark his relationship to H eidegger’s th in k in g o f archi­
tecture. Yet while D e rrid a ’s essay goes on to address the question
o f ground, foundation, and support th a t is always at stake in the
fig u re o f architecture, it does n o t explicidy id e n tify architecture’s
role in either H eidegger’s displacem ent o r repetitio n o f
metaphysics.
Nevertheless, at the beginning o f “Parergon,” his reading o f
Kant’s The C ritique o fJudgement, D e rrid a tacidy id entifies the way
in w hich H eidegger’s account o f the philosophy o f a rt is, in the
end, defined by its treatm ent o f the question o f space. P ointing
to the ultim ate subordination o f the plastic arts to speech by
Heidegger’s essay, D e rrid a argues that the way it “subjected the
whole o f space to the discursive arts, to voice and the logos” 13
repeated the tra d itio n a l philosophy o f a rt it was attem pting to
resist This p o in t had been made m uch e arlier in the 1967
interview “Im plications,” in w hich he singles o u t the way Heideg­
ger’s essay privileges speech as the best evidence o f his general
com plicity w ith the tra d itio n o f metaphysics. A n d again, the
privileging is understood as the dem otion o f space. D errida
points to the essay’s subordination o f architecture and sculpture
to poetry, the spatial arts to the “space o f the poem ,” m aterial
spatiality to abstract space:

B u t doubtless there is a certain H eideggerian phonologism , a n o n c riti-


cal privilege accorded in his works, as in the West in general, to the
voice, to a determ ined “expressive substance.” T his privilege, whose
consequences are considerable and systematic, can be recognized, fo r
exam ple, in the s ig n ific a n t prevalence o f so m any “p h o n ic ” m etaphors
68________________________
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

in a m e d ita tio n o n a rt w h ic h always re tu rn s , b y m eans o f e xa m p le s


ch o se n in a v e ry m a rk e d way, to a rt as th e “a p p e a ra n ce o f tr u th ” . . . .
T h u s is e x p la in e d th a t a c c o rd in g to H e id e g g e r a ll th e a rts u n fo ld in
th e space o f th e p o e m w h ic h is “th e essence o f a rt,” in th e space o f
“ la n g u a g e ,” a n d o f th e “w o rd .” “A rc h ite c tu re a n d s c u lp tu re ,” h e says,
“o c c u r o n ly in th e o p e n in g o f sa yin g a n d n a m in g . T h e y are g o v e rn e d
a n d g u id e d b y th e m .”14

To understand the im portance o f this apparently incidental


p o in t about space, and why Heidegger’s essay on the artw ork is
singled out to exem plify it, it is necessary to pay closer attention
to the argum ent about space embedded w ith in D e rrid a’s early
work. Such an argum ent can be found, fo r example, in O f Gram-
matology o f 1967, perhaps the most read o f D errida’s books. A
concern w ith space punctuates the text w ith o u t ever appearing
to be the central issue. I t is a fragm entary subtext whose sig­
nificance can only be established here by piecing together what
seem like isolated fragments to see the coherent argum ent they
assemble that runs through the book, stitched in to it like a fragile
thread that holds together the m ore visible arguments.
As is w ell known, the text calls in to question the way the
tra d itio n o f metaphysics organizes itse lf around a privileg ing o f
the im m ediacy o f speech over the m ediations o f w ritin g , b u t little
attention has been paid to the way in w hich D err ida exp licitly
presents this privileg ing as a subordination o f space. He repeat­
edly shows how w ritin g is tra d itio n a lly id e n tifie d w ith space by
tracing its role in a num ber o f canonic thinkers in clu d in g Plato,
Hegel, Saussure, Husserl, Rousseau, and Levi-Strauss. Each in
tu rn is seen to locate w ritin g “in space,” 15 the “space o f inscrip­
tio n . . . the spatial d istrib u tio n o f signs,”16 and to subordinate
space, using a concept o f the unm ediated presence o f speech to
effect this subordination. In each w riter, speech “sublimates
space.”17 The tra d itio n o f metaphysics they participate in rejects
w ritin g understood as “the invoking o f an ‘exterior,’ ‘sensible,’
‘spatial’ sig nifie r in te rru p tin g self-presence.” 18 Metaphysics is
th a t w hich subordinates space, associating it w ith “death,” “de­
cay,” “degeneration,” “representation,” “dissim ulation,” “in te r­
ru p tio n ,” “seduction,” “m ateriality,” “sensuality,” “m onstrosity,”
and so on. In Rousseau, fo r example, space is opposed to speech
69_________
Spaced O u t

as death is opposed to life : “voice. . . . transgressing space, mas­


te rin g the outside, . . . T ha t is to say a certain death signified by
space. The arts o f space convey death w ith in themselves.”19 Meta­
physics is no m ore than the mastery o f space, and space is
mastered by being kept outside. Speech supposedly precedes
space and is therefore able to co n tro l it. W riting, w ith a ll its
dangerous spatiality, is cast o u t to the subordinate exterior.
B ut although speech “does n o t fa ll in to the exteriority o f
space,”20 this does n o t mean that it sim ply “occupies” an in te rio r.
The privileged in te rio r from w hich w ritin g is excluded is n o t a
space. On the contrary, it is the absence o f space. Speech is
precisely that w hich is w ith out space, and space is always th a t
w hich is outside.21 A n d ju s t as speech does n o t sim ply occupy the
in te rio r, w riting does n o t sim ply occupy the exterior. W hen Der­
rid a speaks o f the “spatial e xte rio rity o f the signifier,”22 the exte­
rio r is space itself. It is the very gesture o f exclusion that
produces space in the firs t place. W ritin g is n o t sim ply located
“in ” space. Rather, it is the production o f space. There is no space
before the w ritin g th a t appears to go on w ith in it. Consequendy,
D errida refers to w ritin g as “the possibility o f inscriptions in
general, not b efalling an already constituted space as a contin­
gent accident b u t producing the spatiality o f space.”23 F urther­
m ore, he not only speaks o f w ritin g as spatial b u t also o f space
as w riting. Space is in scrip tio n rath er than its site. W ritin g does
n o t have a site. Sites are an effect o f w ritin g. T his sense o f space
can be found in a ll o f D e rrid a’s w ork, as when “ Plato’s Pharmacy”
speaks o f “the space o f w ritin g , space as w ritin g ,”24 which is taken
fu rth e r when Speech and Phenomena speaks o f “the externality o f
space, externality as space.”25 I f space is w ritin g , it is n o t sim ply
placed in the exterior. The e xte rio r is always, and only, space.
Inasmuch as space is n o t a static receptacle o f inscriptions b u t
an effect o f ongoing in scription, what the tra d itio n attempts to
subordinate is n o t so m uch space as the gesture o f in scription
that produces space. F or this, D errida deploys the term “spacing”
[espacement], describing w ritin g as spacing and “spacing as w rit­
in g .”26 Speech is o n ly able to subordinate space inasmuch as it is
“unconnected to spacing.” I t is in this sense th a t the supposed
im m ediacy o f speech is by d e fin itio n opposed to the m ediations
70________________________
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

o f space. Spacing is th a t w hich produces both the sense that


things are exterior to each other, th a t they are spaced o u t in
some k in d o f space, and the sense th a t space is its e lf exterior to
some o th e r dom ain, that the spatial w o rld is detached from one
th a t is w ith o u t space. Spacing is the “distance” o f representation:
both the spatial intervals between signifiers and the effect o f
substitution, the production o f the sense that the m aterial sig-
n ifie r “stands in fo r” som ething detached from it, the sense that
space is an exterior dom ain o f representation detached fro m that
o f presence, w hich is to say, the sense o f an exterior divided from
an in te rio r. In such term s, theories o f representation are neces­
sarily theories o f space. Inasm uch as D errida com plicates the
classic account o f representation, w hich his w ork is everywhere
doing, he necessarily reconfigures the th in kin g o f space and the
role o f space in th in kin g .
D errida attem pts to resist the tra d itio n o f metaphysics by show­
in g that space is never a contingent elem ent that can be sim ply
bracketed o u t in favor o f some higher im m utable and im m aterial
constant. As O f Grammatobgy puts it, “that language m ust traverse
space, be obliged to be spaced, is n o t an accidental tra it b u t the
m ark o f its o rig in .”27 Space does n o t befall the pure voice sought
by philosophy b u t is its very possibility. There can be no voice,
le t alone the philosophical desire fo r such a voice, w ith o u t the
spatiality th a t appears to contam inate i t “For the voice is always
already invested, undone [so llid te e ], required, and m arked in its
essence by a certain spatiality.”28 The contam ination o f the dream
o f philosophy by space turns o u t to be the very possibility o f that
dream.
Speech, th a t w hich is supposedly w ith o u t space, is “fissured”
by a dem and fo r space and this fissure is its e lf a “spacing” that
cannot be removed.29 The supposedly stable prespatial in te rio r
so revered by the tra d itio n o f philosophy is already fractured,
opened up, contam inated fro m the beginning, by the very move­
ments o f space it supposedly precedes, subordinates, and ex­
cludes. Inasm uch as D e rrid a shows th a t “spacing insinuates in to
presence an in te rva l”30 such th a t “spacing is n o t the accident”31
b u t the possibility o f the rule, the sim ple opposition between
space and presence upon w hich the tra d itio n o f philosophy
71_________
Spaced O u t

depends is confused.32 Space cannot sim ply be subordinated


inasmuch as it harbors the possibility o f that w hich attempts to
subordinate it. Equally, space is no longer what the tra d itio n
constructs it as in o rd e r to subordinate i t D e rrid a ’s reading does
n o t sim ply reverse the tra d itio n by in ve rtin g the classic opposi­
tio n and m aking space dom inant. The tra d itio n a l sense o f space
is only produced in the very gesture o f its subordination. To
in te rfe re w ith that gesture is to produce a very d iffe re n t sense o f
space, a sense th a t at once disturbs and produces the tra d itio n .
I t is to m ark this sense that D e rrid a uses the w ord “spacing,” a
w ord that carries some o f the connotations that the tra d itio n
attaches to space in its attem pt to dismiss it b u t also carries senses
that cannot be recognized by the tra d itio n .
To disturb the tra d itio n involves subverting its attem pt to de­
tach itse lf from space by id e n tifyin g that attem pt as a fo rm o f
in stitu tio n a l resistance th a t attempts to conceal the convoluted
structure o f the tra d itio n that makes it. The exclusion and sub­
ordin ation o f space produces an orderly facade, or, rather, the
facade o f order, to mask an in te rn a l disorder. The tra d itio n a l
anxiety about space m arks a forbidden desire that threatens to
collapse the edifice o f philosophy from w ith in .
This internal c o n flic t can be seen when O f Grammatobgy shows
how the sim ultaneous need fo r space and the desire to subordi­
nate space, by co n fig u rin g it as m erely a degenerate and regret­
table event, sustains a strangely contradictory b u t norm ative
economy: “even w hile saying that spacing assures the possibility
o f speech and song, Rousseau wishes to th in k o f space as a simple
outside by way o f w hich disease and death . . . make th e ir en­
try.”33 The texts o f the tra d itio n are m arked by an ongoing debt
to space that is o nly p a rtia lly veiled by th e ir repeated subordina­
tions o f space, insistent declarations o f the in te g rity o f the inte­
rio r that take the fo rm o f a denial, if n o t a disavowal. The overt
desire to expel space marks a subterranean and structural desire
fo r space, a desire th a t can its e lf only be understood in spatial
terms. D errida’s essays relendessly track the strategic effects o f
this desire. Inasm uch as the subordination o f space is tied to a
certain image o f architecture, the question o f deconstruction
and architecture m ust be, from the beginning, a question o f
72________________________
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

repressed desire or, m ore precisely, o f the repression o f what O f


Grammatology calls the “spacing between desire and pleasure.”34
W hile D e rrid a goes out o f his way to disassociate his general
reading o f Rousseau’s texts from a lite ra l psychoanalysis, (argu­
ing that the texts o f psychoanalysis need to be subjected to the
same type o f reading35) the specific question o f space invites such
an analysis. In “Desistance,” his m ore recent text on P hilippe
Lacoue-Labarthe’s work, fo r example, the strange role o f space
in the tra d itio n is described as a “haunting,” and its concealm ent
as a symptomatic gesture o f repression. The particular spatiality
o f “rhythm ” (w hich often acts as D e rrid a’s figure fo r spacing) is
said to have “such effective deconstructive power” because it
destabilizes the metaphysics o f speech it “insensibly” “structures.”
This insensibility to spacing is its e lf an in stitu tio n a l effect pro­
duced to mask the threat posed by spacing to the system it at
once organizes and disorganizes. T hrough its ongoing “repres­
sion” by institutions, “the inscriptive force o f a spacing . . . has
always haunted o u r tra d itio n , w ith o u t ever reaching the center o f
its concerns.”36
D e rrid a ’s w ork involves a recovery o f this repressed sense o f
space that haunts the tra d itio n , the spatiality disavowed in and
by the space o f philosophy, the sense o f spacing hidden by the
tra d itio n ’s attem pt to co n tro l space, b u t whose presence is at the
same tim e revealed by the very intensity o f that attem pt. If, as he
puts it in another interview , the “distance” o f w ritin g fro m p h i­
losophy “provides the necessary free space from w hich to in te r­
rogate philosophy anew,”37 this “space” is, in the end, spatiality
itself. D e rrid a ’s w ork is everywhere concerned w ith that w hich is
subversive insofar as it spaces.
A concern w ith space can easily be fo u n d throughout D e rrid a ’s
w ork, from the earliest texts to the latest. O n the one hand, they
raise the general philosophical question o f space in the w ritings
o f Husserl, Plato, Bergson, Leibniz, Hegel, Heidegger, and so on.
O n the o th e r hand, they are concerned w ith general spatial
conditions, lik e lin e , border, in te rio r, exterior, threshold, closure,
fram e, m argin, invagination, and so on, and w ith particular spa­
tia l figures: the labyrinth, ear, pyram id, hym en, circle, colum n,
and so on. The general theories o f space and th e ir strategic roles
in the tra d itio n are analyzed and rethought, w hile the spatial
73_________
Spaced O u t

term s are reread in a m u ltip lic ity o f registers and each o f the
spatial figures is exam ined in detail and th e ir specific in congrui­
ties are m obilized to become the basis o f a general shaking o f
the trad ition , by showing how each is invested w ith the very
authority the tra d itio n attempts to deny them . A ll o f these in te r­
related interrogations o f space are o f interest to architectural
discourse, but the firs t concern here m ust be w ith som ething
between them: the question o f spacing. In the end, it is spacing
that the trad ition represses, n o t space in general o r spatial prop­
erties o r the p a rticu la r spaces th a t are overtly addressed and
subordinated.
Spacing is precisely n o t space b u t what D e rrid a describes as
the “becoming space”38 o f that w hich is m eant to be w ith o u t
space (presence, speech, sp irit, ideas, and so on). I t is that w hich
opens up a space, b o th in the sense o f Assuring an established
structure, dividing it o r com plicating its lim its, b u t also in the
sense o f producing space itse lf as an opening in the trad ition .
Spacing is at once sp lin te rin g and productive. As D errida puts it,
“spacing is a concept w hich also, b u t n o t exclusively, carries the
m eaning o f a productive, positive, generative force . . . it carries
along w ith it a genetic m otif: it is n o t only the in terval, the space
constituted between two things (w hich is the usual sense o f
spacing), b u t also spacing, the operation, o r in any event, the
m ovement o f setting aside.”39 Spacing, as d istin ct from space, is
firs t and forem ost n o t a th in g b u t a m ovem ent I f it is anything,
it is no-thing: “ Spacing designates nothing, no th in g that is, no
presence at a distance; it is the index o f an irre d u cib le exterior,
and at the same tim e o f a movement, a displacem ent that indicates
an irreducible alterity. I do n o t see how one could dissociate the
two concepts o f spacing and alterity.”40 T his argum ent renders
alterity internal or, rather, problem atizes the very sense o f inte­
rio r and thereby the w hole economy o f identity, propriety, imme­
diacy, presence, and so on, w hich is based on it: “spacing is the
im possibility fo r an id e n tity to be closed on itself, on the inside
o f its proper in te rio rity , o r on its coincidence w ith itself. The
irre d u c ib ility o f spacing is the irre d u c ib ility o f the other.”41
This sense o f “spacing” can be fo u n d thro ugho ut D e rrid a’s
texts. Symptomatically, he employs M allarm e’s use o f the w ord as
the epigraph fo r the collection o f his earliest essays.42 I t is a key
74________________________
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

term in his work, and he usually includes it in his occasional lists


o f the chain o f strategic term s successively deployed in his work,
most o f w hich have received m ore attention. B ut he resists any
treatm ent o f it as some k in d o f master term in the same way that
he resists such a p rivileg ing o f any o f the other terms. Neverthe­
less, its role is unique inasmuch as he singles o u t the term as
m arking precisely this im possibility o f p rivileg ing any one mem­
ber o f the chain in w hich it participates.43 Its trajectory needs to
be follow ed here in m ore detail than it is usually accorded, b u t
w ith o u t m onum entalizing it and thereby freezing its at once
constructive and disruptive movements.

T he Space o f In s c rip tio n

The sense o f the term “spacing” is n o t fixed or singular, by


d e fin itio n . Its trajectories in D e rrid a’s w ritin g are necessarily
m u ltip le , and it is this very m u ltip lic ity that becomes the issue
here. W hile O f Grammatology, fo r example, attempts to b rin g the
sense o f spacing to the surface by paying attention to the m o­
ments in w hich it already marks the surface o f a num ber o f the
canonic texts despite th e ir sustained attem pt to efface it, this
does n o t involve tracing the role o f a singular elem ent th a t can
be m onum entalized as some master term . The quasi-concept is
deployed in the text in many d iffe re n t ways. In a d d itio n to
m arking the “becom ing space” o f space, the opening up o f
spatial distances, the opening o f another kin d o f distance be­
tween the w o rld o f those distances and th a t o f prespatial pres­
ence, and the in te rn a l division o f th a t w orld, its p rim o rd ia l
opening to its other, it also marks the lite ra l spatiality o f w ritin g ,
the m ateriality o f each in scrip tio n and the “architectonics” o f
each text, w hich is n o t sim ply its visible and static fo rm a l struc­
ture, b u t the com plicated and less obvious movements th a t p ro ­
duce and m aintain it as such.
Having begun his reading o f Rousseau by speaking o f the
hidden “spacing” that produces a text and contrasting it w ith
what a text may say about its own produ ction,44 D errida later
becomes concerned w ith the lite ra l spacing o f Rousseau’s Essay
on the O rigin o f Languages, addressing “the space o f its structure,”
75_____________ _________
T he Space o f In s c rip tio n

and the tension between this “architecture” and the te xt’s de­
clared intention, in clu d in g its avowed in te n tio n to subordinate
space.45 W hile closely reading the text, D errida notes that the
structure o f “its space” reflects the very structure o f language it
attempts to describe. Like the text, language is understood as a
spatial structure, a “system o f oppositions o f places and values”
w ith a particular “o rie n ta tio n .”46 There is a com plex interaction
between the spatial structure o f the text, what it says about that
space, and the ro le it ascribes to space in general. D errida looks
in to this in teraction fo r the structural inconsistencies, the vari­
ations in the structural and conceptual orders, w hether visible o r
concealed, acknowledged o r n o t I t is these variations that n o t
only m ark the forces at w ork in the text b u t give the text its force
in the firs t place.
This concern w ith the spacing o f the text, the strategic role o f
its “architectonics,” is evident thro ugho ut D e rrid a ’s work, n o t
only in his close readings o f the spatial organization o f so many
texts but also in the organization o f his own. H is essays often
focus on the tra d itio n a l spatial logic o f the text (title , footnotes,
preface, divisions, order, columns, and so on47), b u t also on the
less obvious spacing th a t organizes the m ain body o f a text, the
gaps in its fabric and argum ent.48 This is p a rticu la rly evident in
his essay “M allarm e,” w hich looks at the tension between the idea
o f blank space th a t “permeates” M allarm e’s w ritin g and the ac­
tual blank spaces in th a t w ritin g , the “rhythm ” o f w hite spaces
whose meaning is undecidable and yet establishes the basic struc­
ture o f the texts. These spaces are seen to at once define the
space o f the text and yet prevent it fro m being closed, in sta llin g
its structure yet leaving it “as if w ith o u t support.”49 In n o t signi­
fying anything, w h ile setting the system o f signification in m o­
tio n , they can only m ark “the spacing o f reading,” w hich is to say,
“the space o f w ritin g itse lf.”50 This sense o f spacing as that w hich
at once institutes an architecture and underm ines it becomes the
basis o f D errida’s own w ritin g , w hich he elsewhere symptomati­
cally describes as the production o f “blank spaces” in the in stitu ­
tions o f philosophical discourse.51 M ost o f his texts engage w ith
th e ir own spatiality, spacing themselves o u t in polem ical ways and
interrogatin g th e ir own spatial structure. This interrogatio n is
76________________________
The S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

carried o u t as m uch by the spatial structure as it is by the words


it appears to structure. Indeed, D e rrid a’s texts only attain th e ir
force inasm uch as they underm ine the tra d itio n a l d istinction
between space and discourse.
T his is most graphic in Glas w ith its m u ltip le and parallel
fragm ents o f text whose quasiargum ent is both structured by the
w hite spaces that fragm ent it and is le ft unresolved by them . This
double sense is itse lf registered w ith in one o f the fragm ents when
it moves fro m addressing “w ritin g ’s spacing”52 to declaring, in a
quasi-religious tone, “L e t us space.”53 Again, this call is under­
stood in architectural terms. I t is p rim a rily a question o f colum ns,
both in the lite ra l organization o f the text as two apparently
heterogeneous colum ns that are fractured and entangled and in
its central theme w hich, from the very firs t page, turns on the
question o f the colum n in Hegel and Genet, or m ore precisely,
the inevitable doubling o f the colum n that at once reasserts and
underm ines the tra d itio n a l psycho-architectonic logic o f erec­
tio n .54 To name b u t one other o f so m any examples, the m u lti­
plicatio n o f sim ilar strategies is evident in The T ruth in P aintin g .
The central them e o f the collection o f essays is the structure o f
a fram e. Its fo u r essays are presented as the fo u r sides o f a fram e;
the preface, itse lf understood as a fram e, is divided in to fo u r
parts; the “Parergon” essay that opens the collection is itse lf
continuously structured by the disjointed corners o f frames in ­
serted in to its in te rio r; and so on. In each case, the argum ent
engages w ith its own space, subjecting its e lf to what it describes,
m aking its e lf an example o f what it addresses, disru p tin g the
tra d itio n a l sense that a text is sim ply “about” som ething com­
pletely outside it, em bedding the te xt in the very spaces it ap­
pears to read.
B ut it m ust im m ediately be noted th a t such overt plays are no
m ore spatial, le t alone architectural, than any o f D e rrid a ’s other
texts, no m atter how in d ire c t th e ir concern w ith space o r con­
ventional th e ir spatial strategy may seem. In the end, D e rrid a is
precisely attem pting to dem onstrate th a t the same kin d o f play
organizes the structure o f a ll texts. He m erely exaggerates certain
spatial slippages, w hich is to say certain in te rn a l slippages o f the
architecture, to id e n tify th e ir ongoing structural role in a ll texts.
77______________________
T he Space o f In s c rip tio n

The im portance o f this concern w ith the architecture o f the


m aterial space o f the te xt can be seen in “Im plications” where,
having id e n tifie d H eidegger’s subordination o f space to
speech—a gesture understood as n o t ju s t a particular example
o f a com plicity w ith the tra d itio n o f metaphysics, b u t as the
central gesture o f th a t tra d itio n — D errida goes on to id e n tify his
own work as a concern fo r the m ateriality o f w ritin g , the “textual
spacing o f differences”55 that are effaced by the metaphysical
tra d itio n they make possible. W ith o u t nam ing architecture, his
w ork is a theorizing o f space— and perhaps it is no m ore than
that. And inasmuch as it draws on, follows, and yet critiques
Heidegger, it is necessarily a rereading o f H eidegger’s architec­
ture even though it does n o t present its e lf as such.
In follow ing th is rereading fu rth e r in term s o f architectural
discourse, it must be rem em bered th a t D e rrid a has radically
displaced the tra d itio n a l sense o f w ritin g and, even then, this
displaced sense does n o t fu lly register the sense o f spacing in his
texts. There is a need to hesitate here, as can be seen by looking
m ore closely at his early essay, ‘T h e P it and the Pyram id: In tro ­
duction to Hegel’s Semiology,” w hich, in the way that has been
described here, pays atte ntion to the “space” o f H egel’s argu­
m ent (seen as “ the ultim ate reassembling o f metaphysics” ), its
“architectonics” o r “topography,” the “topical scheme” that as­
signs a “place” fo r each philosophical question. T his “ architec­
tonic reading” locates H egel’s theory o f the sign w ith in a
supplem ent to a certa in section o f the Encyclopedia o f Philosophical
Sciences. In that designated and carefully circum scribed space, the
sign is understood as a certain kin d o f negation o f “ spatiality.” I t
is necessarily spatial, b u t it supposedly effaces its spatiality in
favor o f what it signifies. H egel’s fig u re fo r this transcendence o f
“cold space” is architectural. The sign is like a m onum ent that
preserves the soul in the face o f death, a tom b, specifically, a
pyram id. As D errida argues, the “construction” o f a sign is a kin d
o f “shelter” or “d w e llin g ” fo r that w hich exceeds it and remains
“fo re ig n ” to it, fo re ig n n o t ju s t to th a t p a rticu la r space b u t to
space itself. He compares this use o f the architecture o f the
pyram id as a sign o f die sign to the way in w hich architecture is
“studied fo r its e lf’ as a k in d o f sign in H egel’s Aesthetics. Even
78________________________
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

though the figure is em ployed as the paradigm o f the sign in one


part o f H egel’s system, a ll such “plastic works o f a rt” are subor­
dinated in his aesthetics inasmuch as they are irre d u cib ly spatial,
like w ritin g . The purest sign is that w hich “erases its own spac­
in g .” The one least contam inated by the m ediations o f space in
this sense is speech. A lth ough there is no sign w ith out space, that
spatiality m ust be effaced. Space is understood as a contingent
prop that m ust never be m istaken fo r the tru th it makes available:
“I f the passage through . . . spacing, externality and death . . . is
a necessary passage . . . this necessity becomes perversion and
regression as soon as it is taken as a philosophical model,”56
Im p lic it in D errida’s essay is the strategic role o f architecture
we have been follow ing here. I f the spatial sign always gives way
to what it signifies, the fig u re o f the b u ild in g , as the sign o f the
sign, m ust give way to the conceptual system it makes available.
There w ould be no philosophical m odel w ith o u t architecture,
b u t the generic image o f architecture cannot be m istaken fo r it
and indeed is subordinated by it. D e rrid a appears to understand
architecture as a kin d o f w ritin g , the pyram id being, as he puts
it, a “hard te xt o f stones covered w ith in scrip tio n ,” the lite ra l
“in scrip tio n ” o f the “facade o f a m onum ent.” Even though the
essay does n o t move beyond reading the w ritin g on the surface
o f the stone toward th in k in g o f the stone itse lf and the space it
defines as an effect o f w ritin g , his general account o f w ritin g as
spacing w ould seem to open up a persuasive account o f architec­
ture, an account he occasionally touches on b u t does n o t
elaborate.
B ut it is precisely at this prom ising p o in t that we m ust hesitate.
W hen D e rrid a ’s essay argues that the im m ediacy o f the “phonic
makes every spatial language— and in general a ll spacing— re­
m ain in fe rio r and exterior,” he im m ediately notes that “w ritin g ,
according to an extension th a t transform s our n o tio n o f it, may
be considered as an example o r as the concept o f this spacing.”57
Even i f the sense o f w ritin g is transform ed from an exam ple
o f spacing to its very concept, it should n o t its e lf be m onum en­
talized as spacing o r vice versa. Just as w ritin g is necessarily
exceeded by the sense o f spatiality it m ig h t exem plify, the sub­
versive qua lity o f that spatiality is frozen whenever it is treated as
79______________________
T he Space o f In s c rip tio n

a “concept.” Spacing, by d e fin itio n , can never be a concept. I t is,


in the end, precisely th a t which exceeds the conceptual. D errida
everywhere tries to th in k beyond the regim e o f concepts, the
philosophical regim e th a t is always that o f a fixe d space.58 Spac­
in g is o f interest only inasm uch as it exceeds the conceptual
order it makes possible. In feet, it is spacing only in this very
excess. W riting is o nly the concept o f spacing fo r the tra d itio n
o f philosophy, a concept that cannot fu lly com prehend the threat
that spacing poses to that conceptual tra d itio n , le t alone the
spacing involved in the very construction o f th a t specific con­
cept. The tra d itio n a l concept o f w ritin g (as being like the inscrip­
tions on a pyram id) is an im p o rta n t p a rt o f the resistance to
spacing.
W hat is provocative in D e rrid a ’s w ork fo r architectural dis­
course is therefore m ore than ju s t his w ritin g “about” space, the
ro le o f spatial figures in w ritin g and the spatiality o f w ritin g.
Rather, it is the spacing between the architecture im p lie d in the
tra d itio n a l sense o f w ritin g and the architecture im p lie d in the
sense o f w riting it attem pts to conceal, what D e rrid a at one p o in t
calls “the immense problem o f figurative spatialization (both in
speech or w ritin g in the cu rre n t sense and in the space between
the cu rre n t sense and the other, o f w hich the cu rre n t sense is
only a fig u re ).”59
In these terms, w hat marks w ritin g is its spatiality and w hat
marks space is w ritin g but, in the end, it w ould be m ore valuable
fo r architectural discourse to th in k o f D e rrid a ’s w ork as being
com m itted to the question o f spacing rather than to that o f
w ritin g , especially since most o f his readers have sim ply associ­
ated w ritin g w ith w ritte n words, i f n o t the in s titu tio n o f literature,
even though his texts e xp licitly w arn against this lim ita tio n . A t
the same tim e, it has to be said that his texts equally repeatedly
in vite this very association through a sustained p rivile g in g o f the
lite ra ry as a strategic response to the tra d itio n a l subordination
o f w ritin g. This strategy leaves open the possibility that the texts
sustain the equally tra d itio n a l displacem ent o f th in kin g away
fro m m aterial space and therefore away from architecture. Even
i f w ritin g is being subversively privileged fo r its m ateriality and
spatiality, this w ould reproduce the tra d itio n being subverted i f
80________________________
T he S lippery A rt o f Space

these were seen to be fundam entally d iffe re n t from the m ateri­


ality and spatiality o f buildings.
Such a conservation o f the tra d itio n has been sustained by over
twenty-five years o f conferences in which the readers o f D e rrid a ’s
w ork have em ployed an architectural rhetoric to enthusiastically
embrace the loss o f foundations, the subversion o f structure, and
so on, w hile actively resisting the possibility that such arguments
could be deployed to analyze the architecture o f the very rooms
w ith in w hich these claims were being made (unlike Heidegger,
who repeatedly elaborated his arguments by analyzing the room
in w hich he was le cturin g60). I t is n o t th a t the extensive use o f
this rhetoric requires that it be employed in the architectural
dom ain fro m which it appears to have been appropriated. In ­
deed, one o f the consequences o f paying attention to the spe­
cific ity o f that dom ain may be, ironically, to conclude that an
entirely d iffe re n t rhetoric w ould be involved in the deconstruc­
tio n o f architecture. Rather, the issue is sim ply (although its
consequences are far from sim ple) the sustained absence o f such
attention and, furtherm ore , a tacit p ro h ib itio n against it. Many
d iffe re n t kinds o f gestures made w ith in the evolving discourse
around deconstruction can be understood as form s o f resistance
to such an in terrogatio n o f architecture, a resistance th a t fa ith ­
fu lly m aintains the very logic ostensibly being threatened and
renders m uch o f that threat illusory.
Consequendy, it is necessary to carefully study each o f Der­
rid a ’s gestures to see if it disturbs or reproduces the tra d itio n a l
economy w ith in which architecture has a unique role, only to be
subordinated to some conceptual order. I f Heidegger exp licitly
addresses architecture only to detach his th in kin g fro m it in a
way that reproduces metaphysics, D e rrid a’s w ork is o f interest to
architectural discourse only inasmuch as it rethinks space in a
way that radically transform s architectural th in kin g and cannot
be detached fro m architecture, even i f architecture is never dis­
cussed as such. Rather than applying D e rrid a’s discussion o f
space to architecture, its architectural cond ition needs to be
m ore precisely id e n tifie d . Instead o f th in k in g o f architecture as
a kin d o f w ritin g (as so many readings o f deconstructive theory
81______________________
The Space o f In s c rip tio n

in architectural discourse have attem pted to do), it is at the very


least a m atter o f th in k in g o f w ritin g as a kin d o f architecture and
tracing the architecture already embedded w ith in D e rrid a’s
discourse.
In these terms, the question here becomes whether o r n o t
D errida distances h im se lf from H eidegger in a way that rethinks
the subordination o f space in general and architecture in par­
ticular. And, given th a t the tra d itio n a l scene o f architecture in
philosophical discourse is one o f id e n tifica tio n sustained by re­
pression, this raises the additional question o f whether there is
a relationship between the way D e rrid a draws so extensively on
Heidegger’s work, only to detach him self fro m it, and the way
Heidegger draws so extensively on architecture, only to detach
him self from i t Does D e rrid a detach him self fro m Heidegger at
precisely the p o in t at w hich Heidegger detaches him self from
architecture? C ould D e rrid a ’s w ork be understood as continuing
the reth inking o f architecture th a t H eidegger prem aturely
abandoned?
To approach these questions, w hich can so easily, and neces­
sarily, be m u ltip lie d here, involves carefully tracing the role o f
space in D errida’s th in k in g as d istin ct fro m his th in kin g about
space. It is a m atter o f id entifying the relationship between spac­
in g and the tra d itio n a l architectural figure, w hich is to say, be­
tween spacing and the space o f the edifice. This m ust be a
uniquely com plicated relationship inasm uch as the figure o f the
edifice is already th a t o f the ongoing co n tro l o f w ritin g by
speech. Architecture already appears to stand fo r the repression
o f spacing. Indeed, it seems to appear only inasm uch as it re­
presses. I t is, as it were, the very appearance o f repression.
The figure o f the grounded structure designates the funda­
m ental project o f metaphysics, the id e n tifica tio n o f a universal
language that controls representation in the name o f presence:
the logos. As we have seen, D e rrid a traces the way in w hich the
tra d itio n o f metaphysics m aintains this logocentric protocol,
w hich privileges presence over representation, w ith an account
o f language that privileges speech over w ritin g . W hile speech is
prom oted as presentation o f pure thought, w ritin g is subordi-
82________________________
The Slippery A rt o f Space

nated as the representation o f speech. The role o f architecture


in establishing this hierarchy can be seen in Heidegger’s iden­
tifica tio n o f the o rig in a l sense o f the w ord logos as a “gathering”
in a way that lets things “stand,” the standing o f “construction.”
A lin k between structure and presence organizes tra d itio n a l ac­
counts o f language. The means by w hich language is grounded
is id e n tifie d w ith structure. Speech is id e n tifie d w ith the way the
structure o f a b u ild in g makes visible the co n d itio n o f the ground
it is bonded to. Phonetic w ritin g , as the representation o f speech,
is id e n tifie d w ith the ornam entation o f a b u ild in g that represents
the structure to w hich it is added. A nd w ritin g that ceases to be
phonetic, losing its bond to speech, representation detached
from presence, is seen as ornam entation that refers away from
the structure to w hich it is attached, dissim ulating the b u ild in g .
The hierarchical protocol o f metaphysics (presence-presentation-
representation) is sustained by the architectural figure
(ground-structure-ornam ent).
In these terms, the fig u re o f the edifice is employed to subor­
dinate spacing, where spacing is understood as the detachm ent
o f w ritin g . The structure’s attem pt to co n tro l the ornam ent that
exceeds it is the attem pt to co n tro l spacing, an attem pt that turns
on the division o f ornam ent. The lin e between space and spacing
cuts thro ugh ornam ent. B ut the architectural figure is n o t ju s t
the figure o f the control o f spacing, a m etaphor fo r the ongoing
w ork o f the tra d itio n , it is the figure its e lf that controls, the
m etaphor its e lf that does the work. A rchitecture, the “a rt” o f
space, is called in to subordinate spacing, and, in the end, to
subordinate space. I f space is configured as the control o f spac­
ing, it is then its e lf subordinated. A rchitecture ends up subordi­
nating itself. And this com plication is, as it were, structural. To
trace the role o f space and spacing in D errida’s w ork, it is
therefore necessary to follow the role in it o f the architectural
fig u re that is tra d itio n a lly employed to subordinate them , a
figure whose widespread strategic operations can never be
pinned down and that rem ains elusive even in those m oments
in w hich it seems to be clearly articulated, an enigm atic figure
that is always, at the very least, double.
83__________________________
The S tructure o f O rn a m e n t

The Structure o f O rnam ent

I t is significant that D e rrid a ’s reading o f Kant’s philosophy o f a rt


distances itse lf from H eidegger’s by focusing on the question o f
ornam ent. He argues th a t Kant’s te xt turns on the possibility o f
m aking a clear d istin ctio n between the inside and the outside o f
the artwork, between its in te rn a l m eaning and its external cir­
cumstances. A ll philosophical discourse on a rt fro m Plato on
(in clu d in g Heidegger) is seen to attem pt to draw this line, b u t
it is always disturbed by ornam entation ( Parergon), w hich is nei­
th e r sim ply inside n o r sim ply outside the w ork (E rgon). For Kant,
ornam ent is “only an adjunct, and n o t an in trin sic constituent.” 61
I t is supposedly th a t w hich can be detached from the w ork, that
w hich has been added to it, an external addition, a supplem ent
subservient to the w ork, in the service o f the w ork.
The C ritique o fJudgement handles the question o f ornam ent by
sp littin g it in two. T he w ork o f philosophy is n o t to separate
structure and ornam ent b u t to separate good ornam ent from
bad. The C ritique e x p lic itly authorizes ornam ent to enter the
w ork it is attached to inasm uch as it is “fo rm ” o r “design,” b u t
inasmuch as the ornam ent is m aterial, bodily, sensual, it is ex­
cluded from the in te rio r as seductive, a dangerous object o f
desire, dangerous because desirable. In the fin e arts “the design
is what is essential. H ere it is n o t what gratifies in sensation b u t
m erely what pleases by its fo rm , th a t is the fundam ental prereq­
uisite fo r taste.”62 In this way, the critiq u e employs the distinction
between form and m atter w ith w hich the tra d itio n o f metaphysics
has always organized itself. Aesthetics is subservient to metaphys­
ics. I t is the application o f metaphysics to a rt— o r so it w ould
seem.
This attem pt to c o n tro l ornam ent does n o t only come up when
philosophy comes across art. I t is w ritte n in to every operation o f
metaphysics. Metaphysics is a certain th in kin g o f ornam ent that
only manifests its e lf w ith in aesthetics where the philosophical
tra d itio n is bound to address ornam ent as a subject, b u t this
th in kin g is operative th ro u g h o u t the tra d itio n , actually constitut­
ing it as such.
84________________________
The S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

D errida disturbs this tra d itio n by questioning its ab ility to


co n tro l ornam ent. He notes that what K ant’s three examples o f
ornam ent (the fram e on a painting, drapery on a statue, and the
colonnade on a palace) share is that they cannot be detached
w ith o u t destroying the work. There is a gap, a lack, a crack in
the structure o f the w ork th a t m ust be fille d by the ornam ent.
The w ork n o t only adm its the external ornam ent, in all its
sensuality, in to its in te rio r b u t is constituted by that entry, made
possible by th a t w hich appears to be excluded from it, that which
serves it, that w hich it supposedly masters. The ornam ent is an
outsider that always already inhabits the inside, an in trin sic con­
stituent o f the in te rio r fro m which it is m eant to be banished.
There could be no w ork w ith o u t the play o f that w hich appears
to be m erely its supplem ent.
This argum ent m ight n o t seem architectural, architecture be­
in g b u t one o f Kant’s three examples, b u t in each case the
rhetoric em ployed is architectural. The issue is invariably that o f
structure. In each ornam ent, D errida identifies the “in te rn a l
structural lin k w hich rivets them to the lack in the in te rio r o f the
ergon” 63 A n d this argum ent, in tu rn , is n o t lim ite d to the ques­
tio n o f art. O n the contrary, it is raised throughout D e rrid a’s
w ritin g , w hich is always concerned w ith the status o f such sup­
plements, that w hich appears to be added, whether it be the title ,
preface, m etaphor, signature, and so on. A nd in each case, it is
a question o f its “structural” role. Indeed, at one p o in t, O f Gram-
matology identifies its concern w ith what it elsewhere calls the
“structure o f supplem entarity” 64 as a concern w ith “supplem en­
tary as stru ctu re ” 65 O rnam ent is therefore n o t ju s t an example o f
the operations o f the supplem ent, one o f a long chain o f equiva­
le n t term s in D e rrid a’s w ritin g . Each o f these terms is understood
as an ornam ent, and the issue is always that o f the “structural
lin k ” that binds it to what it appears to be detached from . Most
o f D e rrid a ’s w ork is w ork on ornam ent. Inasmuch as it always
involves id e n tifyin g the structural role o f a supplem ent, orna­
m ent is n o t ju s t an example o f the w ork o f deconstructive dis­
course b u t its ongoing theme. A nd this them atic question o f
ornam ent, w hich is n o t simply, if ever, a question o f o r fo r art, is
85_________________________
The S tructure o f O rn a m e n t

always architectural.66 I t involves a th in kin g about space that


cannot be as easily separated fro m the question o f a b u ild in g as
m ight at first appear. W hat is at stake in ornam ent is the distinc­
tio n between inside and outside. It is ornam ent that defines
space. There may be no space w ith o u t ornam ent, and no though t
about ornam ent th a t is n o t a though t about space.
D errida’s th in k in g o f ornam ent has many im plications fo r
architecture, not because it can be sim ply applied to architecture,
b u t because it is fro m the beginning a re th in kin g , a reposition­
ing, o f architecture. Indeed, such a th in kin g m ig h t not, in the
end, be very d iffe re n t fro m certain subtexts o f tra d itio n a l theo­
ries o f ornam ent in architectural discourse. M uch o f what Der­
rid a argues is already explicidy w ritten in to canonic architectural
theory. I t is relatively easy to p o in t to sim ilar theories o f the
enigm atic centrality and structural role o f ornam ent, like
G ottfried Semper’s in the nineteenth century, fo r example,
whose traces are everywhere m anifest in the very canonic tradi­
tio n o f architectural discourse th a t suppresses it.67 A t the very
least, deconstructive discourse redirects attention to the tradi­
tio n a l resources o f architectural discourse. It may be that de-
construction is n o t so m uch a transform ation o f architectural
discourse as an a p p ro p ria tio n o f certain architectural enigmas
already b u ilt into th a t discourse. D e rrid a ’s w ork may appropriate
m ore from architecture than it offers in re tu rn . Indeed, that
appropriation o f certain architectural qualities may, ironically, be
precisely what it offers inasmuch as it initiates a sustained self­
reflection in architectural discourse. W hat is at issue then in
reading D errida’s w ork in architectural discourse is n o t a new
architecture, or even a new theory o f architecture, b u t a reposi­
tio n in g o f architecture, a d iffe re n t space fo r architecture rather
than a different architectural space.
Clearly, D errida is n o t w ritin g “about” architecture as such.
Indeed, on those few occasions when his earlier w ork addresses
architecture as an art, he seems to rehearse some o f the most
ro u tin e assumptions about architecture and resist th e ir com pli­
cation, accepting and re in fo rcin g the fa m ilia r image even in the
m iddle o f p o in tin g to the ways in w hich th a t image could be
86________________________
T he S lippery A rt o f Space

opened up b u t sym ptom atically n o t doing so in the end. This


ambivalence about architecture is n o t so m uch an isolated event
in D e rrid a’s discourse, but a structural cond ition that pervades
the discourse and surfaces most clearly in those isolated m o­
ments when architecture is addressed.
T his structural ambivalence can be seen in the two moments
o f his essay on Kant’s The C ritique o f Judgement that e xp licitly
address architecture as such by discussing the properties o f bu ild ­
ings. The firs t elaborates the architectural “analogy” in Kant’s
text by distinguishing between the m aterial structure o f a b u ild ­
ing and the view at it:

A spatial, so-called plastic, a rt object does n o t necessarily prescribe an


o rd e r o f reading. I can move around in fro n t o f it, start from the top
o r the bottom , sometimes w alk round it. N o doubt this possibility has
an ideal lim it. . . . In term s o f the analogy (b u t how to measure its
term s) one ought to be able to begin anywhere and fo llo w any order,
although the quantity and the quality, the force o f the reading may
depend, as w ith a piece o f architecture, on the p o in t o f view and on a
certain re la tio n to the ideal lim it—w hich acts as a fram e. There are
only ever points o f view: b u t the solidity, the existence, the structure o f
the edifice do n o t depend on them . Can one say the same, by analogy,
o f a book. O ne does n o t necessarily gain access to a piece o f architec­
ture by fo llo w in g the o rder o f its production , starting at the foundations
and a rriv in g at the roof-ridge. A n d we m ust distinguish here between
perception, analysis, penetration, u tiliz a tio n , even destruction. B ut does
one read a book o f pure philosophy i f one does n o t begin w ith the
foundations and fo llo w the ju rid ic a l order o f its w ritin g . W hat then is
it to read philosophy and m ust one only read it.68

W hile D e rrid a appeals to the a b ility to engage w ith architecture


relatively independently o f the ground-foundation-structure-
ornam ent logic that it represents to reconfigure the reading o f
philosophy that preserves the same logic, the passage preserves
a clear separation between the angle o f view and the m aterial
b u ild in g it is directed at—a separation, that is, between subject
and object. T his is significant inasmuch as it can be argued that
architecture is n o t m erely an example o f this split b u t is its very
possibility, as can be seen in the way Heidegger exp licitly under­
stands his attem pt to id e n tify the b u ild in g as the construction o f
a view, rath er than som ething that is viewed, as the d isru p tio n o f
87_________________________
T he S tructure o f O rn a m e n t

that split. When speaking o f architecture, D e rrid a hesitates to


track the com plications he everywhere else relentlessly pursues.
Likewise, in the second m om ent in w hich D e rrid a addresses
the m aterial b u ild in g , he takes apart Kant’s architectural exam­
ple o f the detachability o f ornam ent (the colonnade on a bu ild ­
ing) but, in so doing, echoes the claim that a b u ild in g “does n o t
represent anything” that Heidegger’s essay o rig in a lly asserted
precisely in order to be progressively displaced:
W hy w ould the colum n be external to the building? W here does the
c rite rio n , the c ritic a l organ, the organum o f discernm ent come fro m
here? . . . the parergon is added this tim e to a w ork w hich does not
represent anything and w hich is its e lf already added to nature. We th in k
we know what properly belongs o r does n o t belong to the hum an body,
w hat is detached o r n o t detached fro m it even though the parergon is
precisely an ill-detachable detachm ent. B ut in a w ork o f architecture,
the Vorstellung, the representation is n o t structurally representational o r
else is so only th ro u g h detours com plicated enough, no doubt, to
disconcert anyone w ho trie d to discern, in a c ritic a l m anner, the inside
fro m the outside, th e in te g ra l p a rt and the detachable part. So as n o t
to add to these com plications, I shall leave to one side, provisionally,
the case o f colum ns in the fo rm o f the b u ild in g , those th a t support o r
represent the support o f a w indow (and does a w indow fo rm p a rt o f
the inside o f a b u ild in g o r not? A nd what about the w indow o f a
b u ild in g in a painting ?), and w hich can be naked o r clothed, . . . *®

Again, the com plications o f architecture are successively invoked


rather than pursued, le ft “to one side.” Furtherm ore, it can be
argued that ju st as th e ir invocation has a decisive affect on the
course o f the argum ent, w hich then appears to proceed w ith o u t
them (enabling D e rrid a to im m ediately id e n tify “the in te rn a l
structural lin k ” th a t binds the ornam ent to a gap in the struc­
tu re ), so too does the reluctance to follow them further. Again,
this is significant because architecture is n o t sim ply an example
o f the relationship being explored. I t is precisely the relationship
between structure and representation that is always at stake in
the architectural fig u re and, indeed, that relationship can only
be thought in term s o f that figure. The figure is routine ly in ­
voked by the tra d itio n fo r its capacity to articulate the d istinction
between presentation and representation. By invoking b u t u lti­
mately bracketing o u t the com plication o f this distinction in
88
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

architecture itself, D errida short-circuits the question even w hile


elaborating an argum ent th a t necessarily bears on the figure o f
architecture and w ould transform it precisely through those very
“detours” th a t confuse inside and outside.
In the end, D errida doesn’t hesitate and follow this in te rru p ­
tio n o f the trajectory o f his argum ent as it passes through archi­
tecture, w hich raises the possibility that his th in kin g m ight
already be com ing to a stop w ith architecture in a way that calls
in to question its ostensible force everywhere else, that architec­
ture—w hich is to say, a certain image o f architecture— is itse lf
acting as. some kin d o f stable ground on w hich the rest o f his
w ork plays, w ith o u t p u ttin g it in to question. We m ust rem ain
constantly a le rt to this possibility here. B ut it is equally possible
th a t the force o f D errida’s w ork derives fro m a p a rticu la r re th in k­
ing o f architecture that m ig h t n o t be id e n tifie d as such, o r
cannot be id e n tifie d inasm uch as it is a re th in kin g o f that w hich
is supposedly the focus o f the discipline o f architecture b u t
actually constitutes its central b lin d spot, that w hich m ight n o t
be recognized as architecture precisely because it is so central,
that w hich is hidden in and by the center o f the discourse,
m aking the very in stitu tio n a l mechanisms that veil it possible.
Again, it has to be said that this is n o t a question o f w hat
D errida says about architecture, b u t o f the role a certain image
o f architecture plays in his th in kin g . I t does n o t involve reading
his texts fro m some external position— that o f the in s titu tio n o f
architectural discourse— and adjudicating th e ir th in k in g o f ar­
chitecture to be sophisticated or naive, radical o r reactionary,
and so on. The very idea that architecture is “external” to p h ilo ­
sophical discourse and the role o f that idea in the organization
o f both in stitutio ns is precisely what is at stake here. Rather, it is
a m atter o f follow ing the texts, tracing th e ir contours in detail
to see how they construct themselves, follow ing the way they
themselves follow other texts. Such a parasitic reading, endlessly
indebted to its host texts, is n o t so m uch concerned w ith locating
the architecture hidden in , i f n o t by, D e rrid a’s w ork, b u t o f
seeing w hat it m ight say about such a hiding, seeing what it
reveals about concealm ent, what it opens about closure, and so
on. In the end, these are the architectural questions.
89______________________
T he T hreat o f A rch ite ctu re

T he T h re a t o f A rc h ite c tu re

I t is in these term s th a t it is necessary to re tu rn to D e rrid a’s


reading o f Kant’s aesthetics and lo ok at the other level at w hich
architecture comes up in the essay. Its re th in kin g o f ornam ent
has been set up by a certain th in k in g about architecture, or,
rather, a th in kin g about K ant’s th in k in g o f architecture. I f
Heidegger identifies and underm ines the way in w hich aesthetics
defines a rt as a superstructural a d d itio n to an object, D errida
identifies and underm ines the way th a t aesthetics is itse lf treated
as a superstructure added to the substructure o f philosophy.
Philosophy understands itse lf as a grounded structure to which
is attached the ornam ent o f a rt I t subordinates the arts, in clud­
ing architecture, by em ploying the vertical hierarchy dependent
on a certain understanding o f the a rt o f architecture. A rt is
subordinated by being located furthest from the ground. The
subordination is made possible by the tra d itio n a l image o f archi­
tecture, the image th a t w ill itse lf be subordinated w ith in the arts
and detached fro m philosophy as m erely a contingent m etaphor
superfluous to the fixe d structure o f philosophy. Everywhere,
architecture is involved in its own subordination.
D errida’s essay points to this strange economy by paying atten­
tio n to the way The C ritique o fJudgement introduces its e lf in terms
o f the design p ro je ct fo r an edifice sketched o u t in the C ritique
o f Pure Reason:

For i f such a system is some day worked o u t under the general name
o f Metaphysic . . . the c ritic a l exam ination o f the ground fo r this edifice
m ust have been previously carried down to the very depths o f the
foundations o f the faculty o f principles independent o f experience, lest
in some quarter it m ig h t give way, and, sinking, inevitably b rin g w ith it
the ru in o f a ll.70

Aesthetic ju dgm ent depends on rules but, u nlike metaphysics, it


cannot give them . I t is only the presum ed universality o f the
im m aterial voice listened to when faced w ith the m aterial a rt
object that establishes the ra tio n a lity o f aesthetic judgm ents— a
presum ption that cannot be confirm ed w ith o u t contam inating
taste w ith reason. Aesthetic ju dgm ent is recognized “ a p rio n as a
law fo r everyone w ith o u t being able to ground it upon proofs,”
90_____________________
T he S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

w ithout, th a t is, being able to id e n tify its “determ ining ground,”71


Consequently, aesthetics cannot be constructed on the ground
like metaphysics. The C ritique o f Judgement constructs its e lf as a
“bridge” over the “abyss” between Kant’s firs t two critiques and
th e ir respective theoretical and practical realms. From this
bridge, the ground at the very bottom o f the abyss, on w hich the
projected metaphysics w ill eventually stand, can be surveyed. The
C ritique o fJudgement is constructed to produce a groundplan, a
plan fo r the foundations o f metaphysics. I t is only a tem porary
structure w hich, like scaffolding, precedes the b u ild in g b u t be­
comes an ornam ent to it w hich m ust be detached. B ut the
convoluted logic o f ornam ent ensures a certain d iffic u lty in de­
taching a rt fro m the in te rio r o f philosophy, a d iffic u lty that binds
architectural discourse to philosophy. In describing metaphysics
as an edifice, Kant organizes philosophy in terms o f a certain
account o f the a rt o f architecture before the architectural object,
o r any o f the other arts, has been exam ined in aesthetics. As
D errida puts it:

Kant proposes another metaphor. He borrows it, already, from art,


which has not yet been discussed, from the technique o f architecture,
architectonics: the pure philosopher, the metaphysician, w ill have to
operate like a good architect, like a good technites o f edification. He w ill
be a sort o f artist. Now what does a good architect do, according to
Kant? He must first o f all secure the ground, the foundation, the
fundament . . . the architect o f reason excavates, sounds, prepares the
terrain, in search o f a solid foundation, the ultimate Grund on which
all metaphysics may be erected . . . Here philosophy, which in this book
[The C ritique o fJudgement] has to think art through—art in general and
fine art—as a part o f its field or of its edifice, is here representing its e lf
as part o f its part, philosophy as an art o f architecture. It represents
itself, it detaches itself, dispatches from itself a proxy, a part o f itself
outside itself to bind the whole, to fill up or heal over the whole that
suffers from detachment. The philosophy o f art presupposes an art o f
philosophizing, a msgor art, but also a m iner’s art in its critical prelim i­
naries, an architect’s art in its edifying erection. . . . if this pure phi­
losophy or fundamental metaphysics here proposes to account for,
among other things, desire, pleasure and unpleasure, it exposes itself
and represents itself first o f all in its own desire. The desire o f reason
would be a fundamental desire, a desire for the fundamental . . . a
metaphor o f reason to account for all other metaphors. It would figure
the being-desire o f desire, the desire o f/fo r reason as desire for a
91______________________
The Threat o f Architecture

grounded structure. Edifying desire would be produced as an art o f


philosophizing, commanding all the others and accounting for [rendant
raison de] all rhetoric.72

By representing its e lf as a w ork o f art, metaphysics is subject to


its own analysis o f art. Just as it adm its ornam ent in to the artw ork
only inasmuch as it is “design,” it adm its its own ornam ent—aes­
thetics— in to its own in te rio r only inasmuch as it is architecture.
A rchitecture must be adm itted to cover some k in d o f gap w ith in
metaphysics.
D errida’s argum ent can be developed fu rth e r by suggesting
that architecture enters by virtue o f its claim on “design.” The
“trace” that is the signature o f the divine artist is design and, fo r
Kant, fine a rt is o n ly able to give life to the dead body o f an
object because it is authorized by that signature: “no one w ould
ascribe design, in the prope r sense o f the term , to a lifeless
m aterial.”73 Fine a rt im itates the o rig in a l productivity o f the d i­
vine artist, the capacity to produce originals, to be original, by
presenting design ra th e r than im ita tin g his products by repre­
senting specific designs. It m ust have the appearance o f design
and yet “must have the appearance o f being undesigned and a
spontaneous occurrence.”74 In this way, the C ritique produces its
famous form ulation o f the beautiful as the presentation o f pur­
posiveness w ith o u t the representation o f a specific purpose, like
“nature which in h e r bea utifu l products displays herself as art,
n o t m erely by chance, but, as it were, designedly, in accordance
w ith a regular agreem ent as purposiveness w ith o u t purpose.”75
The C ritique depends on the tra d itio n a l argum ent that the ap­
pearance o f design in the w orld presupposes the presence o f a
designer, an architect, a “ supreme A rch ite ct.”76 I t is only by em­
ploying such an argum ent from design that the philosophical
tra d itio n can describe its e lf as architecture and the philosopher
as an architect.
Architecture, then, plays a curious strategic role. I t is able to
pass between philosophy and a rt in a unique way. I t is involved
in a kind o f translation. The m etaphor circulates between and
w ith in the two systems, com plicating them as it folds back on
itself. A convoluted economy is sustained by the description o f
architecture as ornam ented structure th a t enables a rt to be sub-
92_____________________
The S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

ordinated to philosophy even w hile philosophy describes its e lf as


architecture. Philosophy describes itse lf in terms o f the very
th in g it subordinates.
In organizing itse lf around an account o f objects as grounded
structures, philosophy projects an account o f architecture out­
side itself, w hich it then appeals to as an outside authority. In so
doing, it lite ra lly produces that architecture. The divisions be­
tween inside and outside, structure and ornam ent, philosophy
and architecture, and so on, do n o t precede the exclusion o f
architecture— they are produced by it. The production o f archi­
tecture is at the same tim e the production o f the space o f p h i­
losophy. A rchitecture, w hich appears to be the good tame
ornam ent o f philosophy, is actually the possibility o f philosophy.
B ut it is so only inasmuch as it secretly w ild, exceeding philoso­
phy’s attempts to describe it, le t alone define and thereby posi­
tio n it, w hich is to say th a t architecture is the possibility o f
philosophy only inasmuch as it is n o t strictly architectural.
A rchitecture can only be subordinated as such inasmuch as it
can be rendered m etaphoric, that is, only inasmuch as a clear
d istinction can be m aintained between m aterial space and im m a­
te ria l space. The m aintenance o f this lin e takes the fo rm o f a
denial, a fetishistic disavowal that becomes the very basis o f both
philosophy as a cultural in stitu tio n and each the argum ents it
sanctions. If, as D errida suggests, philosophy, in appealing to
architecture, “represents itself, it detaches itself, detaches from
its e lf a proxy, a p a rt o f its e lf outside itse lf to b in d the whole, to
f ill up or heal over the w hole that suffers from detachm ent,”77 it
does so to cover some kin d o f gap, some in te rn a l fracture o f its
structure. Metaphysics produces the architectural object as the
paradigm o f ground as support in order to veil its own lack o f
support, its ungrounded cond ition . Philosophy represents itse lf
as architecture, it translates its e lf as architecture, producing itse lf
in this translation. The lim its o f philosophy are established by
the m etaphorical status o f architecture.
D errida closely follows the part o f H eidegger’s w ork that in te r­
feres w ith th a t status before his texts restore it and re tu rn archi­
tecture to its “proper place.” One im plicatio n o f D e rrid a ’s
reading o f ornam ent is that it is the way in w hich the though t o f
93____________________
The Threat o f Architecture

architecture as a sim ple add ition to b u ild in g covers the structural


role o f architecture that actually makes possible the thought o f
the naked ground as support. This possibility could be developed
by looking again at Heidegger’s later essays, w hich explicidy
address architecture and seem to underm ine the division be­
tween building and architecture in order to displace the tra d i­
tiona l sense o f the ground. For exam ple, “B u ild ing , D w elling,
T h in k in g ” asserts: “ B ut the nature o f the erecting o f buildings
cannot be understood adequately in term s either o f architecture
o r o f engineering construction, n o r in term s o f a mere com bi­
nation o f the tw o.”78 This description o f actual b u ild in g is sus­
tained when he employs architecture as a figure fo r philosophy,
as, fo r example, when his Schelling’s Treatise on the Essence o f
H um an Freedom locates philosophy in the “uneasy” place “be­
tween” structure and ornam ent, between the closure o f a foun­
dation and the openness o f that w hich needs no ground.79 In
these terms, the th o u g h t o f that w hich is n e ith e r b u ild in g n o r
architecture that is elided by tra d itio n a l discourse is the though t
o f the original g ro u n d that precedes the ground-as-support—the
sense o f support being no m ore than an effect o f that elision.
The linear logic o f a d d itio n that architecture is invariably called
in to reinforce is confused. The b u ild in g is n o t sim ply added to
the ground, the ornam ent is n o t sim ply added to the structure,
a rt is n o t simply added to philosophy. The vertical hierarchy o f
g ro u n d /stru ctu re /o rn a m e n t p u t in place by the architectural
figure is radically convoluted. The architectural figure under­
mines itse lf and, ironically, in so doing, it underm ines its own
subordination. Inasm uch as the fig u re subverts w hat it suppos­
edly stands for, it can no longer be dismissed as a mere orna­
m ent. On the contrary, it derives its force precisely from its
ornam ental role.
B ut while certain Heideggerian moves subvert the logic o f
a d d itio n by displacing the tra d itio n a l account o f architecture,
Heidegger ultim ately contradicts th a t possibility, co n firm in g the
tra d itio n a l logic by lo o kin g fo r a stable structure w hile bracketing
o ff architecture, or, m ore precisely, he establishes a stable struc­
ture by bracketing architecture. In his reading o f ‘T h e O rig in o f
the W ork o f A rt,” D e rrid a argues that Heidegger is in the end
94
The S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

unable to abandon the tra d itio n o f ground as support, ground


as that w hich is “underneath,” even w hile “discovering a few
cave-ins o f the terrain, some abysses too in the fie ld where we
advance so tran quilly.”80 Indeed, Heidegger retains it in the very
account o f translation he uses to id entify the way its emergence
conceals the abyss:

A t the very m om ent when H eidegger is denouncing translation in to


La tin Words, at the m om ent when, at any rate, he declares Greek
speech to be lost, he also makes use o f a “m etaphor.” O f at least one
m etaphor, th a t o f the fo unda tion and the ground. The ground o f the
Greek experience is, he says, lacking in this “translation.” 81

The though t o f ground as support is n o t ju s t produced by a


m istranslation. I t is itse lf no m ore than a certain account o f
translation. Translation is tra d itio n a lly understood as presenta­
tio n o f the ground, and m istranslation is understood as detach­
m ent from ground, loss o f support. I t must be recalled that it is
the collapse o f the Tower o f Babel that establishes the necessity
o f translation as one o f reconstruction, edification.82 Heidegger’s
account o f translation underm ines its e lf when dealing w ith the
translation o f the o riginal ground in to the idea o f the edifice
w ith w hich philosophy organizes itself. He appears to em ploy an
account o f translation sim ilar to D e rrid a’s inasmuch as he argues
that the vio latio n o f the o rig in a l ground is already there in the
Greek original. B ut then he attempts to go “underneath” this
sense to erase the violation, and, in so doing, restores a trad i­
tio n a l account o f translation.83 He rebuilds the very edifice he
appears to have underm ined, p u ttin g the subversive qualities he
drew from architecture in to play b u t only after he detaches them
from buildings, rendering architecture m etaphoric, p u ttin g ar­
chitecture back in its place and, in so doing, p u ttin g philosophy
back in its place.
D e rrid a’s w ork disturbs this m etaphoric status. Having pointed
to the figure in Heidegger’s account o f translation, he im m edi­
ately calls it in to question: “W hat I have ju s t too hastily called
‘m etaphor’ concentrates a ll the d ifficu ltie s to come: does one
speak ‘m etaphorically’ o f the ground fo r ju s t anything?” 84 The
relevance o f D e rrid a ’s w ork fo r architecture and vice versa hangs
95______________________
T he T h re a t o f A rch ite ctu re

on this question. H is w ork attains its greatest force when it


interferes w ith the tra d itio n a l categorization o f architecture as
either a literal, irre d u cib le , and inescapable m aterial reality—the
alm ost hyperreal status credited to buildings in o u r culture— or
a contingent and im m aterial m etaphor. The two categories are
actually interdependent. The m ore fundam ental buildings are
seen to be, the m ore m etaphoric th e ir role in discourse seems.
Architecture, as it were, clarifies the opposition between m aterial
object and im m aterial discourse, acting as philosophy’s para­
digm . D errida can only disrup t this opposition by disrupting the
image o f architecture that constitutes it, rather than being its
product.
I f Heidegger ends up reconstituting the tra d itio n o f metaphys­
ics sustained by subordinating architecture and p ro h ib itin g other
accounts o f it, this p ro h ib itio n marks a repression. Som ething
about architecture cannot be said w ith o u t calling in to question
the whole system. Deconstructive discourse is o f interest to archi­
tectural discourse inasm uch as it can be used to id entify the
threat that architecture poses to the tra d itio n o f metaphysics to
w hich it is contracted, the threat that causes th a t tra d itio n to
subordinate architecture. Such an app ro priation o f deconstruc­
tive discourse makes available accounts o f architecture p ro h ib ­
ited by the terms o f the ancient contract that binds architecture
in to discourse, and continues to orchestrate “theoretical” dis­
course, including those discourses that id e n tify themselves, how­
ever cautiously, as “deconstructive.”
4
T h e D om estica tion o f
the House

Heidegger’s “late” w ork develops his early m o tif o f the edifice—


the grounded structure— in to th a t o f the house. As his w ritin g
becomes increasingly com m itted to the question o f language, the
tra d itio n a l architectonic structure o f language discussed in the
early work becomes a “house.” Language as grounding becomes
language as “dw e llin g ” [ Wohnen]. The fig u re o f “standing” be­
comes that o f “enclosing.” The structural system bin d in g sig­
n ifie s to the g ro u n d becomes an enclosure. In the famous
form ulation o f the 1947 “Letter on Hum anism ” : “Language is
the house o f Being. In its home man dwells.” 1 T his focus on the
house is often id e n tifie d w ith Heidegger’s so-called tu rn . In tu rn ­
ing, he turns to the house. This is n o t so m uch a tu rn from the
edifice o f the early w ork toward the house. Rather, the edifice is
turn ed in to a house, b u ild in g is now understood as housing.
In this way, H eidegger develops a whole architectural rhetoric
o u t o f the tra d itio n a l architectural m etaphor w ith w hich philoso­
phy institutes itself. Philosophy becomes no m ore than th in kin g
about housing or, m ore precisely, the in stitu tio n s o f philosophy
are to be displaced by a th in kin g that houses. T his displacem ent
is firs t and forem ost a rejection o f philosophy’s construction o f
space. Beginning w ith the central argum ent o f Being and Time,
Heidegger’s texts present an extended critiq u e o f the conception
o f space that has been progressively in stitutio nalized since an­
cient Greece, a conception that is, fo r him , the in stitu tio n o f
space itself. The m om ent that philosophy’s central architectural
98___________________________
The D om estication o f the House

m etaphor becomes e xp licit as such— w ith Descartes— is also the


m om ent its ancient basis in a certain account o f space becomes
e x p lic it To deconstruct this tra d itio n , Heidegger employs a spa­
tia l rhetoric— '‘house,” “enclosure,” “shelter,” “abode,” “lo dging,”
“in ner,” “proxim ity,” “neighborhood”— but asks us not to hear it
spatially. The fa m ilia r sense o f architecture as the d e fin itio n o f
space is invoked and then displaced, h ighlighted then w ith­
drawn. W hat we unproblem atically take to be the space o f the
house (as the paradigm o f space itself) is seen to both emerge
from and veil a p rio r and m ore fundam ental condition from
w hich we have become alienated. B ut what distinguishes Heideg­
ger’s argum ents from so many other sim ilar-sounding critiques
o f m odern life is that the process o f alienation is understood to
be an ancient one that is only becom ing m anifest w ith m odernity
and, furtherm ore , that the basic condition it alienates us from is
itse lf one o f profound alienation. The alienating space o f the
home veils a m ore fundam ental and p rim o rd ia l homelessness.
To be at hom e in such a space is precisely to be homeless.
To dism antle the tra d itio n o f metaphysics, Heidegger has to
dism antle o u r most fa m ilia r experiences o f architecture, w hich
are b u t the produ ct o f the tra d itio n o f metaphysics and are
therefore com plicitous w ith the necessarily violent regim e o f
technology that is its contem porary m anifestation. He employs
an architectural rhetoric in a way that dispels, among other
things, the apparent innocence o f architectural space. B ut this
gesture, w hich has so m uch to say about architecture— and a
certain dim ension o f it has been in flu e n tia l in architectural dis­
course— is susceptible to its own criticism in a way that opens
fu rth e r possibilities fo r that discourse. Indeed, it is precisely the
dim ension that has already been so eagerly appropriated by the
discourse that is the focus o f this criticism . In the end, Heideg­
ger’s architectural rhetoric sustains the very tra d itio n it is de­
ployed to displace.

D is fig u rin g th e H ouse

Heidegger’s w ork is almost always double sided. I t repeatedly


perform s a rigorous dism anding o f some aspect o f the tra d itio n
99_________________
D isfig u rin g the House

o f philosophy, only to later revive th a t very aspect in a displaced


fo rm that consolidates whatever had been destabilized. The risk
b u ilt in to H eidegger’s o rig in a l argum ent that construction de­
pends upon, and is no m ore than, an ongoing destruction from
w ith in ultim ately, and perhaps necessarily, turns on his own w rit­
ing, his critical u n b u ild in g becom ing constructive o f the very
system it places in question. As D errida argues, when reading
Being and Time, “A t a certain p o in t, then, the destruction o f
metaphysics remains w ith in metaphysics, only m aking e xp licit its
principles.”2 A ll o f his many readings o f H eidegger’s texts locate
this p o in t by applying those texts’ own strategies to themselves.
Consequendy, his relationship to Heidegger is, at the very least,
“enigm atic” as he once p u t it.3 He thinks through Heidegger in
detail in order to depart from him , taking each te xt to the lim it,
elaborating each o f its arguments further, b u t n o t sim ply as “an
extension or a continuous radicalization,” as he points o u t else­
where.4 He departs fro m Heidegger by follow ing him in a ma-
neuvre that is fa r fro m straightforw ard. H eidegger’s w ritin g is
seen to both exem plify the often subde and elusive operations
o f the hegemonic tra d itio n that need to be u n b u ilt and to pro­
vide the strategies fo r doing ju s t that.

I do m aintain . . . th a t H eidegger’s te x t is extrem ely im p o rta n t to me


. . . T hat being said . . . I have m arked quite explicitly, in a ll the essays
I have published, as can be verified, a departure fro m the H eideggerian
problem atic . . . I sometimes have the feeling th a t the H eideggerian
problem atic is the m ost “p ro fo u n d ” and “p o w e rfu l” defence o f what I
attem pt to p u t in to question under the ru b ric o f the thought o fpresence?

D errida is at once closer to and fu rth e r away fro m Heidegger


than is usually acknowledged. The “departure” is never simple
o r complete. His w ritin g never sim ply moves beyond or outside
Heidegger’s discourse. Rather, it interrogates that discourse from
w ith in , locating and e xp lo itin g certain openings in it.
Architecture plays an im portant role in this in terrogatio n. One
o f the key symptoms o f H eidegger’s allegiance to the very tradi­
tio n he appears to displace— w hich D errida id entifies and w hich
is equally, and necessarily, a p o in t o f departure fo r D e rrid a ’s own
w ork, an opening fo r a radical displacem ent o f th a t tra d itio n — is
the figure o f the house. W hen reading the “Letter on Hum an-
100__________________________
The D om estication o f the House

ism ,” D e rrid a argues that it is by em ploying the chain o f meta­


phors that surround the house that Heidegger “rem ains w ith in ”
metaphysics:

Whence, in Heidegger’s discourse, the dominance of an entire meta-


phorics o f proximity, o f simple and immediate presence, a metaphorics
associating the proximity o f Being with the values of neighboring,
shelter, house, service, guard, voice, and listening. As goes without
saying, this is not an insignificant rhetoric; . . . the choice o f one or
another group o f metaphors is necessarily significant. It is within a
metaphorical insistence, then, that the interpretation of the meaning
o f Being is produced.6

By m aking the house them atic, Heidegger identifies the figure


that organizes the tra d itio n he attempts to dism antle, b u t in the
end he fails to dism antle the house. O n the contrary, he repeat­
edly advocates a re tu rn to it, a w ithdraw al to the p rim a l shelter,
the site o f unm ediated presence, in order to take refuge from
the m odern— w hich is to say technological— age o f repre­
sentation th a t is condem ned inasmuch as it produces a general­
ized “homelessness.” He inhabits metaphysics in a way that does
n o t threaten the authority o f the house, succum bing to the risk
im p lic it in his strategy o f destruction, the same risk that faces the
contem porary appropriations o f that strategy by deconstructive
discourse that D errida pointedly describes in terms o f the house:

To attempt an exit and a deconstruction without changing terrain, by


repeating what is im plicit in the founding concepts and the original
problematic, by using against the edifice the instruments or stones
available in the house, that is, equally, in language. Here, one risks
ceaselessly confirming, consolidating, re lifiin g {relever), at an always
more certain depth, that which one allegedly deconstructs. The con­
tinuous process o f making explicit, moving toward an opening, risks
sinking into the autism o f the closure.7

Secure housing is the greatest risk o f deconstructive discourse.


It is always possible to rearrange the stones o f the house w ithout,
in the end, disturbing its capacity to house. D errida’s prolonged
elaboration o f H eidegger’s displacem ent o f the architecture o f
the edifice, problem atizing the cum ulative logic o f b u ild in g
(ground-foundation-structure-ornam ent), w hich plays such a de­
cisive role in organizing discourse in o u r culture, m ust therefore
101

D isfig u rin g the House

also be, in some way, a displacem ent o f the architecture o f the


house.
B ut deconstructive discourse cannot sim ply reject H eidegger’s
use o f the tra d itio n a l figure o f the house, o r even its “dom i­
nance” in his work, since Heidegger’s firs t argum ent, picked up
so insistently by D e rrid a, is that it is necessary to in h a b it meta­
physics in precisely this way, e xp lo itin g a ll its resources, especially
its central m etaphorical figures, in order to overcome it. Such
metaphors cannot sim ply be abandoned. Rather, they have to be
affirm ed, elaborated, and redeployed to id e n tify exacdy what
th e ir use both constructs and covers over. H eidegger’s w ritin g
never simply upholds the tra d itio n it occupies. Rather, it is “at
once contained w ith in it and transgresses it ”8 through an ever
shifting double m ovem ent. By occupying metaphysics, it estab­
lishes the strategic roles o f the m etaphors that organize it.
Heidegger’s app ro priation o f the house fro m the tra d itio n is a
key example o f this. B ut in occupying that house, he has to
transgress it to d is ru p t the tra d itio n , app ro priating it in a way
that recovers that w hich even this forg otten image forgets, iden­
tifyin g the image’s own transgressive potential. Heidegger does
not, at first reading, appear to do this despite his e x p lic it rejec­
tio n o f the m odern sense o f the house as a spatial in terio r, a
space that is its e lf understood as an alienating technology o f
control that operates as an agent o f metaphysics. The house
appears to be sim ply consolidated rath er than deconstructed.
Such a deconstruction w ould be uniquely com plicated because
the m o tif o f the house, like that o f the edifice, is n o t simply
another m etaphor ( if m etaphors are ever sim ple), but is that
w hich determ ines the co n d itio n o f m etaphor in the firs t place.
M etaphor is supposedly defined by its detachm ent from a
“pro p e r” meaning. In ‘T h e R etrait o f M etaphor,” one o f D e rrid a’s
m ost extended readings o f the question o f m etaphor that is
always at stake in his w ork, this sense o f the proper is seen to be
bound to that o f the house. The essay points to “the econom ic
value o f the dom icile and o f the proper both o f w hich often (o r
always) intervene in the d e fin itio n o f the m etaphoric.”9
T hroughout his w ritin g , D errida draws on the Greek association
between the household (oikos) and the proper ( oikeios). W hen
1 0 2 __________________________________________

The Domestication o f the House

speaking o f Freud, fo r example, the house is described as the


“fa m ilia r dw elling, the proper place.”10 A nd elsewhere D errida
notes that in Hegel “the general fo rm o f philosophy, is properly
fa m ilia l and produces itse lf as oikos: hom e, habitation, . . . the
guarding o f the proper, o f property, propriety, o f one’s own.” 11
A ll o f these readings follow a consistent trajectory from his p o in t
in “The Ends o f M an” that it is precisely in Heidegger’s w ritin g
that “the themes o f the house and the proper are regularly brought
together.” 12 T his p o in t can be elaborated by looking at the way
Heidegger binds the m etaphor o f the house to language by
lin k in g it to his concept o f “app ro priation” (Ereignis). B uilding,
understood as housing, is repeatedly described as appropria­
tio n .13 Language is a house because it is a mode o f appropriation
whereby thought recovers presence in the face o f alienating
representations rather than a fo rm o f representation. It is a
house because it appropriates, m aking proper by excluding rep­
resentation and establishing a “p ro xim ity” to presence.14
In these terms, the house is the m etaphor o f that w hich pre­
cedes metaphor. It determ ines the co nd ition o f the proper, from
which the m etaphorical is then said to be detached and in fe rio r.
As the tra d itio n a l figure o f an in te rio r divided from an exterior,
it is used to establish a general opposition between an in n e r
w orld o f presence and an outer w orld o f representation that is
then used to exclude that very figure as a “m ere” m etaphor, a
representation to be discarded to the outside o f philosophy. B ut
the figure always resists such an exclusion. Inasmuch as the
condition o f m etaphor is established by the m etaphor o f the
house, the house is not sim ply another m etaphor that can be
discarded. And, m ore than this, although m etaphor is under­
stood as a departure from the house, it is s till n o t a departure
from housing. Rather, it is the tem porary occupation o f another
house, a borrowed house. M etaphor is an im proper occupation,
a being at a home w ith out being at home. Consequently, the
figure o f the house is neither m etaphorical n o r proper. I t is, as
D errida argues in ‘T h e R etrait o f M etaphor,” “n o t only meta­
phoric to say that we in h a b it m etaphor . . . it is n o t sim ply
m etaphoric. N o r anymore proper, lite ra l o r usual.” 15As the figure
103________________
D isfig u rin g the House

o f the house is w hat makes the d istinction between m etaphor


and proper possible, it is not, according to “W hite M ythology” :

one m etaphor am ong others; it is there in o rd e r to signify m etaphor


itself; it is a m etaphor o f m etaphor; an expro p ria tio n , a being-outside-
one’s-own-residence, b u t s till in a dw elling, outside its own residence
b u t s till in a residence in w hich one comes back to oneself, recognizes
oneself, reassembles oneself o r resembles oneself, outside oneself in
oneself. This is the philosophical m etaphor as a detour w ith in (o r in
sight of) appropria tion, parousia, the self-presence o f the idea in its
own lig h t. The m etaphorical trajectory fro m the P latonic eidos to the
H egelian Idea.16

W hat Derrida, echoing Heidegger, refers to so often as “the


metaphysics o f presence” is sustained by the figure o f the house
in the same way as it is sustained by the figure o f the edifice.
Since Plato, the house has always been that tra d itio n ’s exem plar
o f presentation. T he governing concept o f “Idea” as presence,
and o f the visible w o rld as in fo rm e d matter, the m aterial presen­
tation o f im m aterial ideas, is tra d itio n a lly established w ith the
m etaphor o f the house produced by an architect, the house as
the presentation o f an “idea,” as can be seen in M arsilio F icino’s
com m entary on Plato:

I f someone asks in w hat way the fo rm o f the body may be sim ilar to
the fo rm and reason o f the s p irit and the A ngel, I ask this person to
consider the edifice o f the A rchitect. From the beginning the A rchitect
conceives in his s p irit and approxim ately the Idea o f the edifice; he
then makes the house (according to his ability) in the way in w hich he
has decided in his m in d . W ho w ill deny th a t the house is a body, and
th a t it is very sim ilar to the incorporeal Idea o f the artisan, in whose
image it has been made? It m ust certainly be ju d g e d fo r a certain
incorporeal order ra th e r than fo r its m atter.17

I t is only possible to abruptly p o in t to this canonic fo rm o f the


m etaphor here in lie u o f tracing its long history in detail by
follow ing the curious trajectories and slippages between terms
like “maker,” “b u ild e r,” “architect,” “dem iurge,” “ techne,” and so
on. Such a detailed reading w ould show the way in w hich archi­
tecture, and, in particular, the house, is n o t sim ply the paradigm
o f the operations o f the idea. Rather, the idea is its e lf understood
as a paradigm—lite ra lly, fo r Plato, a paradeigm a—o r architectural
104__________________________
The D om estication o f the House

m odel. This particular image plays an im p o rta n t role in the


tra d itio n a l analogy between the philosopher and the architect
that has been exploited by both discourses.
Philosophy does not depart fro m its e lf to illustrate its concepts
w ith the fig u re o f the house. O n the contrary, it forever circulates
around the house, departing fro m it only to stage a re tu rn to it.
This can be seen when, in d e fin in g the essence o f technology,
Heidegger notes that the o rig in a l sense o f techne, fro m w hich
philosophy has departed, is “to be entirely at home [ zu Hause]
in som ething.” 18 But to define essence, he uses the example o f
the “essence o f a house [H aus\ ” and then draws on Plato’s theory
o f “Ideas” to describe the house’s condition. To determ ine the
essence o f techne as housing, he determ ines the sense o f essence
by reference to the house. The house is n o t sim ply an example
o f essence. It does n o t sim ply illu strate presence o r essence.
Rather, it is used to define them . N either can be thought outside
the house.
In such involuted circulations between concepts and the image
o f a house, w hich regularly punctuate the tra d itio n o f philoso­
phy, the sense o f the house as an in te rio r never goes away, even
in H eidegger’s texts, despite th e ir insistent attem pt to discard it.
The house is always firs t understood as the most p rim itive draw­
ing o f a lin e that produces an inside opposed to an outside, a
lin e that acts as a mechanism o f dom estication. I t is as the
paradigm o f in te rio rity that the house is indispensable to philoso­
phy, establishing the d istinction between the in te rio rity o f pres­
ence and the exteriority o f representation on which the discourse
depends.
In all the binary pairs o f terms w ith w hich metaphysics orga­
nizes itself, as D errida argues when reading Plato, “each o f the
term s m ust be sim ply external to the other, w hich means that one
o f these oppositions (the opposition between inside and outside)
must already be accredited as the m a trix o f a ll possible opposi­
tio n .”19 Consequently, the philosophical system is organized by
spatial m etaphors it cannot abandon. It is itse lf necessarily spa­
tial. W hen n otin g the way in w hich Freud’s theoretical system
both invokes and discredits spatial m etaphors, D errida claims “a
certain spatiality, inseparable from the very idea o f system, is
105________________
D isfig u rin g the House

irre d u cib le .”20 This argum ent is even m ore e xp licit in his early
reading o f the way Em m anuel Levinas identifies being as an
“e xteriority” only to argue that it is n o t spatial. Insisting on “the
necessity o f lodging oneself w ith in tra d itio n a l conceptuality in
order to destroy it,” D errida argues th a t “one w ould attem pt in
vain, in order to wean language fro m e xte rio rity and in te rio rity
. . . fo r one w ould never come across a language w ith o u t the
rupture o f space.”21 Space is the very possibility o f language and
the tra d itio n o f th in k in g th a t believes it can transcend space and
em ploy language as m erely a tem porary and necessarily inade­
quate vehicle fo r its pure (w hich is to say, aspatial) thought.
Consequendy, one m ust “in h a b it” the spatial m etaphor that is
“congenital” to philosophy in order to question it:

[I] t is necessary s till to in h a b it the [spatial] m etaphor in ruins, to dress


oneself in tra d itio n ’s shreds and the d e vil’s patches— a ll this means,
perhaps, that there is no philosophical logos w hich m ust n o t firs t le t
its e lf be expatriated in to the structure Inside-O utside. T his deportation
fro m its own site tow ard the Site, toward spatial lo ca lity is the metaphor
congenital to the philo so p h ica l logos. Before being a rheto rica l proce­
dure w ith in language, m etaphor w ould be the em ergence o f language
itself. A nd philosophy is o n ly this language . . . one m ust n o t expect,
henceforth, to separate language and space, to em pty language o f
space.22

Here D errida is clearly follow ing H eidegger’s claim in Being


and Time that spatial significations (Raumbedeutungen) are irre ­
ducible in language: “Is it an accident th a t proxim ally and fo r
the most part significations are ‘w orldly,’ sketched out before­
hand by the significance o f the w orld, th a t they are indeed often
predom inandy ‘spatial’?”23 In a la te r reading o f Heidegger Der­
rid a draws on this argum ent, b rie fly elaborating it by sim ply
restating it, but in a way that identifies a spatiality w ith in the
philosophical tra d itio n in its very attem pt to exclude spatiality:
‘T h e phenom enon o f so-called spatializing m etaphors is n o t at
all accidental, nor w ith in the reach o f the rhetorical concept o f
‘m etaphor.’ I t is n o t some e xte rio r fatality.”24 The concept o f
m etaphor cannot be though t outside th a t o f exterior. Space
cannot sim ply be excluded, as any act o f exclusion constructs a
space by dividing an inside fro m an outside.
106__________________________
T he D om estication o f the House

To this we can add that this irreducible spatiality turns around


the figure o f the house. The spatial m etaphor that m ust be
“in habite d” is actually the m etaphor o f inhabitation itself. The
house is constitutionally bound in to the metaphysical tra d itio n
and cannot sim ply be subordinated as a metaphor. I t can never
be e xterior to philosophy, as it produces the very sense o f in te rio r
on w hich th a t tra d itio n is based. The edifice o f metaphysics is
necessarily a house. W ith in every e xp licit appeal to the necessity
o f stable construction is an im p lic it appeal to the necessity o f a
secure house. The philosophical economy is always a domestic
economy, the economy o f the domestic, the fam ily house, the
fa m ilia r enclosure. Deconstructive discourse must therefore be
firs t and forem ost an occupation o f the idea o f the house that
displaces it fro m w ith in.

T a kin g S h e lte r in th e U ncanny

A rhetoric o f the house can be found thro ugho ut D e rrid a’s texts
w ith o u t it ever being th e ir ostensible subject. It is a kin d o f
subtext that surfaces in radically d iffe re n t contexts and usually
in small and scattered fragments. A sense o f this house and its
strategic role can be b u ilt by assembling some o f these fragments
here.
In D e rrid a ’s w ork all o f the associations w ith the tra d itio n a l
fig u re o f an edifice on secure foundations slide in to that o f the
secure domestic enclosure. I f to ground a structure is to b u ild a
house, to constrain the u n ru ly play o f representations is to house
them , to dom esticate them . Just as D e rrid a ’s sporadic but m u lti­
ple references to the edifice id e n tify speech as structural and
w ritin g as superstructural, his references to the house id e n tify
speech as inside the house, whereas w ritin g is outside. In his
account o f Plato, fo r example, the logos “does n o t wander, stays
at hom e,” whereas w ritin g is “unattached to any house,”25 such
that “in n o th in g does w ritin g reside.”26 To sustain the tra d itio n
that privileges presence by rejecting the “o ther” is therefore, as
he puts it in another essay, “to take shelter in the most fa m ilia l
o f dwellings.”27 A nd in another context, the “ law o f the house, the
in itia l organization o f a dw elling space” represses play when
107________________________
Taking Shelter in the Uncanny

difference is “enclosed.”28 Elsewhere, the economy o f metaphys­


ics lite ra lly attempts to “arrest, domesticate, tame”29 the other. In
these terms, all his w ork “ ‘analyzes’ philosophical power in its
domestic regim e,”30 as he once describes his earliest readings o f
Husserl. This dom estic regim e is both the space th a t philosophy
claims fo r itself and the argum ents made w ith in that space. In
appropriating the space as its own and d e lim itin g its te rrito ry, it
is defin ing its law, d e fin in g it precisely as a law o f domesticity,
philosophical law as the law o f enforced dom esticity. The space
o f philosophy is n o t ju s t a dom estic space, it is a space in w hich
a certain idea about the dom estic is sustained and protected.
The house’s a b ility to dom esticate is its capacity to define
inside and outside, b u t n o t sim ply because that w hich is located
inside is domesticated. For D errida, the “outside” o f a house
continues to be organized by the logic o f the house and so
actually remains inside it. By being placed outside, the other is
placed, domesticated, kept inside. To be excluded is to be sub­
je cted to a certain dom estic violence th a t is both organized and
veiled by metaphysics.31 Metaphysics is no m ore than a determ i­
nation o f place, the p rodu ction o f the sense o f a pure in te rio r
divided from an im p ro p e r exterior, a privileged realm o f pres­
ence uncorrupted by representation. W hatever disrupts meta­
physics disrupts this sense o f in te rio r. D e rrid a ’s w ork is
concerned with th a t w hich “threatens the paternal logos. A nd
w hich by the same token threatens the dom estic, hierarchical
in te rio r.”32 His texts everywhere, albeit obliquely, question the
sense o f the house ultim ately reinforced by Heidegger.
But, significantly, D e rrid a ’s “departure” fro m Heidegger is n o t
a departure from the house. The in te rio r space o f presence is
n o t sim ply abandoned fo r that o f representation, n o r is the realm
o f representation sim ply seen to occupy the in te rio r. Rather, the
economy o f representation is seen to structure the in te rio r as
such. The sense o f in te rio r is actually an effect o f representation.
I t is produced by w hat it supposedly excludes. D e rrid a departs
from Heidegger by tacidy locating a vio latio n w ith in the structure
o f the house that is repressed by a systematic dom estic violence
that is itself in tu rn concealed by the apparent structure o f the
house. The constitution al vio la tio n o f the edifice by the abyss
108__________________________
T he D om estication o f the House

th a t Heidegger dem onstrated to be necessary fo r that structure


to stand is equally the constitutional vio latio n o f the house that
makes its capacity to house possible. The fra ctu rin g o f the
ground is equally, in D e rrid a ’s hands, a fracturing o f the walls.
The house o f metaphysics is deconstructed by locating the
“traces o f an a lte rity w hich refuses to be totally dom esticated”33
and yet cannot be excluded, that w hich resists metaphysics be­
cause it cannot be placed either inside o r outside, and is there­
fore “undecidable,” and yet is indispensable to the operations o f
metaphysics.
In a footnote in “The Double Session,” D errida id entifies its
account o f undecidability as a “rereading” o f Freud’s essay “The
U ncanny” (Das Unheimliche) w hich, as is w ell known, describes
the uneasy sense o f the u n fa m ilia r w ith in the fam iliar, the un-
hom ely w ith in the home. Freud pays attention to the way the
term fo r hom ely (heim liche) is defined both as “belonging to the
house, n o t strange, fam iliar, tame, intim ate, friendly, etc.” and as
what seems at firs t to be its opposite: “concealed, kept from sight,
so that others do n o t get to know o f o r about it, w ith held from
others.”34 In this structural slippage fro m heimliche to unheim liche
that w hich supposedly lies outside the fa m ilia r com fo rt o f the
home turns o u t to be in h a b itin g it a ll along, surfacing only in a
re tu rn o f the repressed as a foreign elem ent that strangely seems
to belong in the very dom ain that renders it foreign. D e rrid a’s
footnote goes on to say that “we fin d ourselves constantly being
brought back to that text.”35 B ut despite, o r perhaps because of,
the unique attraction o f this text or, m ore likely, its subject, it is
never e xp licitly analyzed in the essay o th e r than as a b rie f p o in t
in another footnote. N or is it read in depth anywhere else in
D e rrid a ’s w ritings. Like the figure o f the house to w hich it is
bound, it is a them e th a t can be traced thro ugho ut D e rrid a’s
w ork w ith o u t it ever becom ing a discrete subject, as i f it is itse lf
repressed, re tu rn in g only occasionally to surface in very isolated
and what seem, at first, to be m in o r points. B ut precisely fo r this
reason it can be argued that its effects actually pervade a ll the
texts that are unable o r u n w illin g to speak about it.36
D e rrid a repeatedly, one m ight almost say compulsively, iden­
tifies the undecidables that uncannily intim ate the violence
109________________________
Taking S helter in the U ncanny

w ith in the fa m ilia r dom ain, w hich is to say, the dom ain o f the
fam ily, the homestead, the house. Being, as he puts it, “domestic
but utterly fore ign ,”37 the uncanny exposes the covert operations
o f the house. For this reason its constitutional vio latio n o f the
ostensible order o f the house is its e lf repressed, dom esticated by
the very domestic violence it makes possible. Metaphysics is no
m ore than the disguising o f this dom estic violence that in tu rn
represses the fundam ental strangeness o f the house. The house
o f metaphysics represses the violation that made it possible. M ore
than a domestic violence, this is the violence o f the domestic
itself. D errida locates w ith in the house that w hich is actually, as
O f Grammatology puts it, “the sickness o f the outside (which comes
fro m the outside b u t also draws outside, thus equally, o r inversely,
the sickness o f the hom eland, a homesickness, so to speak).”38
Heidegger’s sickness fo r the home is displaced by D e rrid a ’s sick­
ness o f the home.
As th e ir shared insistence on the necessity o f a strategic inhabi­
tation o f the tra d itio n w ould lead us to expect, this revision o f
the status o f the house s till closely follow s Heidegger— indeed,
goes even fu rth e r in to his work. Long before Heidegger explicidy
raised the question o f the house, his Being and Time had argued
that the fam iliar everyday w orld is precisely a “fleeing in the face
o f uncanniness” th a t “suppresses everything u nfam iliar.”39 The
concept had already been introduced in his 1925 lectures at
M arburg in terms o f the feeling o f dread when “one no longer
feels at home in his m ost fa m ilia r environm ent.”40 T hrough the
systematic concealm ent o f the uncanny in everyday life , the fa­
m ilia r is actually a m ode o f uncanniness.41 Just as the alienation
o f m odern life is n o t sim ply produced by the abyss underlying
a ll structures but by the covering over o f that abyss, it is equally
produced by covering over the uncanniness behind and o f the
fam iliar.42 The apparent innocence o f the fa m ilia r is but a mask
that alienates by m asking a m ore fundam ental alienation: “the
obviousness and self-assurance o f the average ways in w hich
things have been in te rp re te d are such that w hile the particular
Dasein d rifts along towards an ever-increasing groundlessness as
it floats, the uncanniness o f this flo a tin g remains hidden from it
under th e ir protecting shelter.”43 The mask o f the fa m ilia r is a
n o __________________________
T he D om estication o f the House

p rim itive shelter, a house, o r rather a pseudohouse, which veils


a fundam ental unfam iliarity. The uncanny is lite ra lly a “not-
being-at-hom e,” an alienation from the house experienced
w ith in it. W ith its discovery, “everyday fa m ilia rity collapses,” and
the “ not-at-home” concealed by this fa m ilia rity “ must be conceived as
the more p rim o rd ia l phenomenon.”44 Heidegger attempts to in te rro ­
gate the fa m ilia r to discover what he la te r describes as the “dan­
ger” concealed w ith in it: “ Such questions b rin g us in to the realm
o f what is fam iliar, even most fam iliar. For th in kin g , this always
remains the real danger zone, because the fa m ilia r carries an air
o f harmlessness and ease, w hich causes us to pass lig h tly over
what really deserves to be questioned.”45 From the beginning, his
w ork attem pts to displace the fam iliar, or at least place it at risk,
in a way th a t raises the question o f the danger in and o f the
fa m ilia r house. This question w ould be tacitly raised but sympto­
m atically never answered by his later work.
To com prehend D e rrid a ’s th in kin g o f the house, we need to
go even fu rth e r in to H eidegger’s th in k in g about it. Instead o f
sim ply rejecting H eidegger’s ultim ately reactionary use o f the
figure,46 we have to locate the circuitous openings w ith in his
argum ent that can be used to displace it.

T he V io le n ce o f the H ouse

The symptomatic way in w hich H eidegger’s questioning o f the


fa m ilia r through a questioning o f hom e begins to slide in to a
questioning o f the house can be seen when the 1935 essay ‘T h e
O rig in o f the W ork o f A rt” locates the uncanny danger w ith in
the very com fo rt o f home:
We believe we are at hom e in the im m ediate circle o f beings. T hat
w hich is fam iliar, reliable, ordinary. Nevertheless, the clearing is per­
vaded by a constant concealm ent in the double fo rm o f refusal and
dissem bling. A t bottom the o rd in a ry is n o t ordinary; it is extraordinary,
uncanny.47

This sense was developed in the same year by A n Introduction to


Metaphysics, which again argues at length that metaphysics is the
mechanism o f the concealm ent o f the uncanny by the fam iliar,
I l l

T he V iolence o f the H ouse

b u t does so in a way that redefines in habita tion. A reading o f


Sophocles’ Antigone (its e lf described as a “poetic edifice”) is used
to a ffirm that “m an”48 is the “uncanniest o f a ll beings”49 and to
id e n tify two sides o f th is uncanniness, each o f w hich involve a
certain violence. O n the one hand, man is violent, vio latin g both
enclosure and structure (“he who breaks o u t and breaks up”50)
and violendy dom esticating things w ith technology ( “he who
captures and subjugates”51) in d e fin in g a home. O n the other
hand, there is the “overpow ering” violence o f Being, w hich the
fa m ilia r space o f the hom e attem pts to cover over b u t w hich
compels a certain panic and fear w ith in it, and inevitably forces
man out o f i t T he endless c o n flic t between these two form s o f
violence is constitutional rath er than sim ply a historical event.
A nd it is n o t that one is an act o f violence by a subject w hile the
other is an act o f violence against th a t subject. Rather, the
co n flict between them is the very possibility o f the subject’s
existence, indeed, the existence o f any th in g as such. “M an” does
n o t b u ild a home in the same way th a t man does n o t b u ild a
language. Rather, “m an” is b u ilt by the home. But, equally, it
must be emphasized here, “m an” is b u ilt by its destruction.
Heidegger is n o t speaking about lite ra l houses, th a t is, spatial
enclosures erected on particular sites. Significantly, he always
describes the home as a kin d o f in te rio r, b u t it is the very sense
o f spatial in te rio r that masks the in te rio rity he is describing.
From his earliest texts, Heidegger always insists th a t the funda­
m ental sense o f the w ord “in ” is n o t spatial in the sense o f the
occupation o f a “spatial container (room , b u ild in g )” b u t is the
sense o f the fam iliar.52 T hrough the endless double m ovem ent
o f the “fundam ental violenc e” (G ew alt-tdtigkeit), man “cultivates
and guards the fa m ilia r, only in order to break out o f it and to
le t what overpowers it break in ”53 [m y emphasis]. Man both
occupies the enclosing structure and “ tears it open,” b u t cannot
master the overpowering and so is “tossed back and fo rth be­
tween structure and the structureless,”54 between using the struc­
ture to violently m aster and vio latin g it — both o f w hich “flin g
him out o f the hom e”55 [m y em phasis], the “hom eland,” the
“place,” the “solid g ro u n d ,” and in to the “placeless confusion” o f
the “groundless” “abyss” as a “homeless” “a lien”:
1 1 2 ___________________________________________

T he D om estication o f the House

We are taking the strange, the uncanny [das Unheimliche\, as that which
casts us out o f the “homely,” i.e. the customary, familiar, secure. The
unhomely [Unheimische] prevents us from making ourselves at home
and therein it is overpowering. But man is the strangest o f all, not only
because he passes his life amid the strange understood in this sense but
because he departs from his customary, fam iliar limits, because he is
the violent one, who, tending toward the strange in the sense o f the
overpowering, surpasses the lim it of the familiar [das Heimische]. . . .
not only that in so doing he is a violent one striving beyond his familiar
sphere. No, beyond all this he becomes the strangest o f all beings
because, without issue on all paths, he is cast out o f every relation to
the familiar. . . . without city and place, lonely, strange, and alien . . .
Man embarks on the groundless deep, forsaking the solid land. . . . he
abandons the place, he starts out and ventures into the preponderant
power o f the placeless waves.56
This is n o t ju s t an argum ent using spatial m etaphors to make a
p o in t th a t is n o t itse lf spatial. The text is organized around an
e xp licit argum ent about space. Its rejection o f the sense that
m aterial b u ild in g is an act o f man, rather than its possibility, is
developed in to a rejection o f the fa m ilia r sense th a t a b u ild in g
is produced in space, as distin ct from producing space ( Raum ),
or, m ore precisely, place ( O rt). For Heidegger, this sense is seen
to be sustained by the basic claim o f metaphysics inaugurated by
Plato that m aterial objects stand in a preexisting space, o ffe rin g
surfaces to the eye o f a subject who also occupies th a t space, an
“outward appearance” that presents an im m aterial idea. The
degeneration o f philosophy is seen to begin w ith its ancient
account o f space. Heidegger argues th a t the Greeks had no w ord
fo r “space” and refers to Plato’s Timaeus to dem onstrate that the
theory o f ideas as models (paradeigm a) is actually the o rig in a l
theory o f space.57 In speaking o f ideas, Plato is seen to have
invented space and thereby in itia te d the degeneration that is
only reaching its most extrem e and e x p lic it fo rm w ith m odernity.
This argum ent was picked up in H eidegger’s lectures on
Nietzsche o f the fo llo w in g year. A t one point, they closely follow
a section o f Plato’s Republic that explains the doctrine o f the ideas
w ith examples o f objects produced by a craftsman (demiourgos) .
Plato’s trip a rtite distin ctio n between the idea, the way the crafts­
m an’s object presents the idea, and its representation in a paint­
ing is exem plified fo r Heidegger in the way that “the amassed
113_____________________
T he V iolence o f the House

stone o f the house” is a “presencing” th a t acts to “b rin g the idea


in to appearance” d iffe re n tly than its representation in a paint­
in g.58 Against Nietzsche, Heidegger attem pts to argue that fo r
Plato this difference is, in the end, b u t one o f degree. The house
its e lf becomes an im age, albeit a superior one as it is closer to
tru th . But Plato’s te xt does n o t actually talk about the house. I t
refers to objects that, as Heidegger notes, “we fin d com m only in
use in many homes,”59 namely, tables and bedframes, b u t n o t the
home itself. And H eidegger does n o t ju s t add this example. He
begins and ends his reading w ith it, refram ing and refocusing
the o riginal argum ent. Clearly, he cannot separate the question
o f metaphysics fro m the question o f the house. H is argum ent
about the violence o f hom e inevitably heads toward the house.
The violent construction o f a hom e and exile fro m it that he
describes are n o t sim ply historical events. They are b u ilt in to the
home as its very structure in the same way that the abyss is the
possibility o f any edifice erected upon it. Like the loss o f ground,
this violence is “fundam ental” b u t is covered over by the interde­
pendent senses o f secure structure and secure enclosure. The
house is made possible by the very violence it conceals. Heideg­
ger’s revision o f the co n d itio n o f b u ild in g — such th a t structure
rises rather than fells w ith the loss o f ground— is also a revision
o f the condition o f enclosure, as can be seen when he addresses
the question o f the house m ore directly in a later essay: “Lan­
guage speaks. I f we le t ourselves fa ll in to the abyss denoted by
this sentence, we do n o t go tum b lin g in to emptiness. We fa ll
upward, to a height. Its loftiness opens up a depth. The two span
a realm in which we w ould like to become at home, so as to fin d
a residence, a dw elling place fo r the life o f m an.”60 It is the
absence o f the g ro u n d th a t makes a residence. Housing, like
b uild ing, is abysmal.
Just as the edifice conceals its e lf in concealing the abyss, the
house conceals its e lf in concealing the uncanny (the theme o f
the abyss being entangled w ith that o f the uncanny thro ugho ut
H eidegger’s w o rk). I t is because the house conceals the unhom e­
liness that constitutes it th a t the “m ere” occupation o f a house,
w hich is to say the acceptance o f its representation o f in te rio r,
can never be authentic dw elling. Those “residing” in the home—
114__________________________
The Domestication o f the House

“the m erely casual possession o f dom estic things and the in ner
life ” 61— are n o t a t home. Hom e is precisely the place where the
essence o f hom e is most concealed.
H om ecom ing is therefore n o t sim ply the re tu rn to the space
o f the hom e, because it is w ith in that space that the home most
"withdraws” itself, “shuts away” its own essence. W ith in the spatial
in te rio r there is another kin d o f in te rio r, w ith in w hich the es­
sence o f the home resides. The home is therefore “mysterious”
to those who occupy it: “ p roxim ity to the source is a mystery.” 62
To be at hom e is precisely to be at hom e w ith this irreducible
mystery. Heidegger plays on the way the w ord fo r mystery— Ge-
heim nisvoll—has the hom e’s capacity to conceal, to make secret
( Geheim), b u ilt in to it. I t is therefore the homeless that come
nearest to the essence o f home that can never sim ply be occu­
pied. Just as it is only by fa llin g in to the abyss that a poet can
determ ine the cond ition o f the structure,63 it is only the poet’s
exile from the hom e that can establish its strange cond ition , the
u n fa m ilia rity o f its apparently fa m ilia r enclosure: “ In his exile
from hom e, the home is firs t disclosed as such. B ut in one w ith
it and only thus, the alien, the overpowering, is disclosed as such.
Through the event o f homelessness the whole o f the essent is
disclosed. In this disclosure unconcealm ent takes place. But this
is no th in g o th e r than the happening o f the unfam iliar.” 64 In the
end, it is only the alien that dwells.
In this way, the o rig in around which the tra d itio n o f philoso­
phy organizes its e lf is n o t a “p rim itive ” innocence: “A beginning,
on the contrary, always contains the undisclosed abundance o f
the u n fa m ilia r and extraordinary, w hich means that it also con­
tains strife w ith in the fa m ilia r and ordinary,” 65 w hich is to say
that the o rig in itse lf becomes uncanny. It is already defined by
an exchange between in te rn a l violation and external violence.
The o rig in a l sense o f logos on w hich metaphysics is based neces­
sarily participates in this violence. It is itself, fo r Heidegger, an
“act o f violence.” 66
T his fundam ental sense, however, has been lost. Metaphysics
is in stitutio nalized by repressing the o rig in a ry violence, m aking
fa m ilia r that w hich is actually a departure from the fam iliar, a
departure from the o rig in a l sense o f the house. Metaphysics
115____________
In te rio r V iolence

produces homelessness by repressing the o rig in a ry homelessness


“insofar as the hom e is dom inated by the appearance o f the
ordinary, customary, and com m onplace.” 67 “M an” is detached
from the house and the ground precisely by follow ing philosophy
in th in kin g o f them as secure. The radical insecurity o f the
uncanny is concealed by the fa m ilia r sense that “m an” speaks
language, rather than language speaking “m an,” that “m an”
builds, rather than b u ild in g constructing man as such.68 “M an”
occupies the fam iliar, w hich is “out o f” its essence rather than
being “at home in ” it, w hich is n o t to say that its essence lies
elsewhere, in some o th e r in te rio r. O n the contrary, it is the
uncanniness that “resides” in the fa m ilia r that is his essence.
Heidegger’s argum ent convolutes tra d itio n a l th in k in g about
space. Spaces are n o t sim ply b u ilt and occupied. I t is only w ith
metaphysics that a stable ground is seen rather than an abyss, a
secure house rather than an exile fro m it. Because o f the very
fa m ilia rity o f these images, th e ir violence is concealed. And m ore
than this, they become generic figures o f the exclusion o f vio­
lence. For Heidegger, the “supreme” act o f violence is to conceal
the o riginary violence behind the mask o f the fam iliar.
I t is this constitutional violence o f the house that is the open­
ing w ith in H eidegger’s discourse that could be exploited to dis­
place the philosophical tra d itio n fro m w ith in . B ut whereas
Heidegger e xp licitly id entifies the violence o f the figure o f the
edifice, associating violence w ith the uncanny,69 and arguing that
it is precisely because violence is b u ilt in to the apparent in no­
cence o f build ing th a t violence is its e lf uncanny,70 he never d i­
rectly identifies the violence o f the house itself. He identifies the
uncanniness o f “housing” but n o t the uncanniness o f the house.
Like Freud, he seems to preserve the fa m ilia r status o f the house
w hile defining an u n fa m ilia r scene w ith in it. The house becomes
the site o f a violence o f w hich it is innocent.

In te rio r V iolence

It is in these terms th a t we must reread D e rrid a ’s w ork before it


exp licitly addressed architecture as a subject, le t alone engaged
w ith specific architectural projects. The question to be asked o f
116
The D om estication o f the House

that w ritin g becomes som ething like: I f D errida locates the un­
canny w ith in the house by follow ing Heidegger who, in the end,
restores the very space o f the house he repeatedly underm ines,
what about the house its e lf in D e rrid a ’s work? But, o f course, the
question is s till too quick. Can we even speak o f such a th in g as
“the house itse lf”? To expose houses to deconstruction, w hich is
actually to expose ourselves to the deconstructive movements
that are the very possibility o f the house, w ould surely be to
problem atize the d istinction between the lite ra l and the meta­
phorical house. To raise the question o f the m aterial house, and
therefore, o f architectural spaces and practices in general, in
D e rrid a’s w ritin g w ould n o t be to lo ok fo r “houses” as such but
to lo o k fo r the problem atization o f such an idea.
Yet again, such a gesture can firs t be found in D e rrid a ’s read­
in g o f Heidegger. He appropriates that dim ension o f Heidegger
that n eith er consolidates the tra d itio n a l space o f the house n o r
dismantles it, b u t is the side-effect o f an oscillation between these
gestures. Heidegger’s repeated attempts to detach the lite ra l
sense o f the house fro m his argum ent have already radically
transform ed the house in a way that is covered over when he
equally repeatedly slips and restores the lite ra l figure. The lite ra l
sense is never sim ply abandoned in favor o f the m etaphorical. In
“The Ends o f M an,” D e rrid a argues that the “Letter on H um an­
ism ” makes the house uncanny by locating it beyond o r before
that opposition. The house is no longer sim ply the site o f the
uncanny, the fa m ilia r space w ith in w hich the un fa m ilia r resides.
I t is its e lf already uncanny.
Just as Heidegger had argued in 1935 that Kant’s architectural
rhetoric is no “mere ‘ornam ent’ ”71 o f his philosophy, he argues
in the “L etter on Hum anism ” that his own th in kin g about the
house is n o t an independent ornam ent added to an otherwise
self-sufficient philosophy in order to reveal its in n e r structure;
the house is no “m ere” image fo r philosophy. The relationship
between the figure and the philosophy that appears to em ploy it
is subtle and convoluted: “ [it] is no adornm ent o f a th in kin g . . .
The talk about the house o f Being is no transfer o f the image
‘house’ to Being. B ut one day we w ill, by th in kin g the essence o f
Being in a way appropriate to its matter, m ore readily be able to
117____________
In te rio r V iolence

th in k what ‘ house’ and ‘to dw ell’ are.”72 T his displaces the tradi­
tiona l status o f architecture, radically subverting the tra d itio n o f
philosophy that is defined by its determ ination that the architec­
tura l images it em ploys are “m erely” m etaphorical, tem porary
supplements to the m ain body o f the argum ent that w ill eventu­
ally, and necessarily, be abandoned. Philosophy’s fa m ilia r image
o f presence— the house— becomes doubly u n fa m ilia r when it is
no longer seen as an innocent image o f innocence, separable
from the argum ents it is attached to, b u t is a construction o f
those very argum ents whose dependence on them is veiled in
order that it can act as th e ir guarantee, an independent witness
to th e ir tru th , a testam ent to th e ir very innocence.
In this way, th a t w hich is most fa m ilia r becomes unfam iliar.
The house is no longer the paradigm o f presence. I t is firs t and
forem ost a representation (albeit o f the absence o f repre­
sentation). It is n o t ju s t that the house’s status as an in stitu tio n ­
ally produced and sustained image is sim ply exposed, b u t that
the fa m ilia r itse lf becomes an image. The ostensible realm o f
proxim ity, immediacy, nearness, and so on becomes a realm o f
extrem e detachm ent. To remove the m etaphorical status o f the
house fundam entally displaces the tra d itio n o f metaphysics that
m aintains it as such. The whole economy tu rn in g around the
house is disrupted. “Being,” that w hich is, by d e fin itio n , nearest,
is no longer sim ply explained by the image o f th a t w hich is
nearest, the house. But, as D errida points out, n o r is the house
to be sim ply explained by the study o f Being. B oth are made
strange. The opposition between that w hich is known and that
w hich is unknown, th a t w hich is near and that w hich is far, is
radically disturbed. A nd the loss o f the innocence o f the house
is somehow w ritten in to the structure o f the philosophical tradi­
tio n that constitutes its e lf by endlessly denying that loss.
“House of Being” would not operate, in this context, in the manner o f
a metaphor in the current, usual, that is to say, literal meaning (sens)
o f metaphor, if there is one. This current and cursive meaning . . .
would transport a fam iliar predicate (and here nothing is more familiar,
familial, known, domestic and economic, one would think, than the
house) toward a less familiar, and more remote, unheimlich (uncanny)
subject, which it would be a question of better appropriating for one-
118__________________________
T he D om estication o f the House

self, becom ing fa m ilia r w ith, understanding, and w hich one w ould thus
designate by the in d ire c t detour o f what is nearest— the house. Now
w hat happens here w ith the quasi-m etaphor o f the house o f Being, and
w hat does w ithout m etaphor in its cursive dire ctio n , is that it is Being,
w hich, fro m the very m om ent o f its w ithdraw al, w ould le t o r prom ise
to le t the house o r the habitat be thought. . . . One could be tem pted
to form alize this rhetorical inversion where, in the trope “house o f
B eing,” Being says m ore to us, o r promises m ore about the house than
the house about Being. B ut this w ould be to miss what is m ost strictly
proper in w hat the H eideggerian text w ould say in this place. In the
inversion considered, Being has n o t become the proper o f this suppos­
edly know n, fam iliar, nearby being, w hich one believed the house to be
in the com m on m etaphor. A n d i f the house has become a b it unheim-
Uch, this is n o t fo r having been replaced, in the ro le o f “what is nearest,”
by “B eing.” We are therefore no longer dealing w ith a sim ple inversion
perm utating the places in a usual tropical structure.73

It is this double displacem ent that organizes the figure o f the


house in D e rrid a ’s w ritin g. The lin k between the house, law,
economy, and fam ily is an im p o rta n t theme throughout his work.
The house is always invoked as the fa m ilia r abode, the abode o f
the fam ily b u t equally the abode o f the fam iliar. But although he
repeatedly identifies the chain o f house-economy-law-family w ith
metaphysics, the fam ily scene he reconstructs is n o t sim ply a
m etaphor o f metaphysics, a fa m ilia r image that offers access to
an u n fa m ilia r conceptual structure. O n the contrary, metaphys­
ics is, i f anything, a kin d o f m etaphor o f the family, the fa m ilia r
means o f access to the endlessly strange structure o f the fam ily.74
In this Heideggerian gesture, the very fa m ilia rity o f the fam ily is
the product o f metaphysics, w hich is no m ore than the in stitu tio n
o f dom estication itself. I t is the violence o f the “household” o f
metaphysics th a t produces the fam ily in producing the image o f
in d ivid u a l subjects independent from the house whose in te rio r
they occupy. T hat is, o f subjects as that w hich can be housed,
violently dom esticated by a structure that can dissim ulate that
violence. D e rrid a ’s displacem ent o f metaphysics’ capacity to do­
mesticate m ust also be a displacem ent o f the figure o f the house,
w hich is its paradigm atic mechanism o f dom estication. To dis­
place metaphysics is already to displace dom esticity. The house
no longer sim ply houses. The paradigm o f security becomes the
site o f the m ost radical insecurity—indeed, the very source o f
119
In te rio r V iolence

insecurity. Security becomes b u t the uncanny effect o f the repres­


sion o f insecurity.
Yet again it is im p o rta n t to note that this displacem ent o f
architecture in D e rrid a ’s w ork does n o t occur in explicidy archi­
tectural terms. To raise the question o f the u n fa m ilia rity o f ar­
chitecture, the strangeness o f even its most ro u tin e d efin ition s
o f space, the terms o f the discourse m ust shift. It is n o t a question
o f sim ply applying the discourse to som ething seemingly outside
it, like “m aterial space,” b u t o f re th in k in g the space o f discourse
itself. That which seems most prope r to m aterial architectural
practices, the a rticu la tio n o f space, is actually the product o f
m u ltip le systems o f representation th a t construct the very sense
o f a m aterial w o rld that can be shaped o r read by discourses
detached from it. A rchitecture is firs t and forem ost the produ ct
o f mechanisms o f representation th a t seem to be independent
o f it and whose disguise produces this sense o f independence on
w hich its unique c u ltu ra l role is based. These mechanisms are
exem plified by the in s titu tio n o f philosophy, b u t are also embed­
ded w ith in the m u ltip le cu ltu ra l practices o f so-called everyday
life .
The deconstruction o f this in stitu tio n therefore does n o t sim­
ply have architectural consequences. I t must be architectural
from the beginning, w hich is to say th a t as long as architecture
is seen to rem ain outside, o r even after, the “u n b u ild in g ” o f
philosophy, then th a t philosophy is actually being consolidated
by w hat appears to deconstruct it. I t is precisely when deconstruc-
tive discourse “tu rn s to ” architecture— by describing particular
buildings o r even by sim ply raising the question o f buildings—
that it runs the greatest risk o f reestablishing the tra d itio n o f
metaphysics, w hich defines its e lf by keeping architecture in a
certain place. The tra d itio n ’s capacity to dom esticate lite ra lly
depends on the dom estication o f architecture. In the end, the
philosophical economy turns on the dom estication o f the idea
o f house. But, equally, deconstructive discourse is bound to ru n
the risk o f dom esticating architecture, as any refusal, o r even
delay, to engage w ith buildings also reinforces th e ir tra d itio n a l
status. Buildings can no m ore be isolated from deconstruction
than particular houses can be isolated fro m H eidegger’s w ritin g
1 2 0 ___________________________________________

The D om estication o f the House

and its politics. It is in term s o f the risk o f architecture, w hich is


necessarily a p o litica l risk, that D e rrid a ’s engagement w ith archi­
tecture m ust be read.
I t is im p o rta n t to note here that before it begins to speak o f
architecture, a ll o f D e rrid a ’s w ritin g is a re th in kin g o f in te rio rity.
This re th in kin g had already begun w ith his o rig in a l appropria­
tio n o f Heidegger when “deconstruction” is its e lf understood as
a certain way o f in h a b itin g the tra d itio n . W hen Heidegger says
“we shall place ourselves w ith in the structure itse lf,”75 “keeping
it [ destruction ] w ith in its [the tra d itio n ’s] lim its ,”76 he has already
given the edifice o f philosophy an in te rio r. In fact, it is already
a house. In re th in kin g that space, both Heidegger and D errida
address the question o f housing long before either uses the word
“house.” They already participate in the tra d itio n organized
around a certain image o f housing inasmuch as they describe
that tra d itio n as som ething that can be occupied, som ething that
has an in te rio r and can be inhabited:

The m ovements o f deconstruction do n o t destroy structures fro m the


outside. They are n o t possible and effective, n o r can they take accurate
aim , except by in h a b itin g those structures. In h a b itin g them in a certain
way, because one always inhabits, and a ll the m ore when one does n o t
suspect it. O perating necessarily fro m the inside, borrow ing a ll the
strategic and econom ic resources o f subversion fro m the o ld structure,
borrow ing them structurally.77

Deconstructive discourse, if it is anything, is no m ore than a


re th in kin g o f inhabitation. It never involves a sim ple departure
fro m an enclosure. O n the contrary, it goes fu rth e r in to the
structure, ru n n in g the risk o f consolidating it in order to locate
the cracks that both h o ld it up and produce the sense o f in te rio r
in the firs t place. In so doing, it locates the subtle mechanisms
o f in stitu tio n a l violence, which is to say the violence that makes
in stitutio ns possible but is concealed by them in a way that
produces the effect o f a space. There is no violence w ith out
in stitu tio n , no in stitu tio n w ith out space, no space w ith o u t vio­
lence. A nd m ore than this, violence is always dom estic, b u t n o t
because it goes on w ith in an in te rio r. Rather, it is the violence o f
the in te rio r as such, a violence that is at once enacted and
1 2 1 ____________________

Interior Violence

dissim ulated by fa m ilia r representations o f space, representations


that are so fa m ilia r th a t they are n o t even understood to be
representations. T he question o f deconstruction is therefore firs t
and forem ost a question o f the uncanniness o f violence. To speak
here o f “deconstruction and architecture” is n o t to sim ply speak
o f an uncanny o r violated architecture b u t the uncanniness o f
architecture as such, the violence o f even, i f n o t especially, the
most banal o f spaces, spaces that are vio le n t in th e ir very banality.
5
T h ro w in g U p A rc h ite c tu re

To disrupt the house by id e n tifyin g its constitutional uncanniness


is at the same tim e to d isru p t the place o f architecture, as there
is a structural relationship between the house’s a b ility to position
things and the tra d itio n ’s a b ility to position the house. To under­
stand exactly how deconstructive discourse displaces architec­
ture, it is necessary to re tu rn again to the in stitu tio n a l contract
that positions architecture and elaborate some o f its term s in
m ore detail, paying atte ntion to the fin e p rin t and looking fo r
the loopholes, openings in the structure that are constantly be­
in g exploited in unrecognized, and often unrecognizable, ways.
T his can be done here by re tu rn in g to the positioning o f archi­
tecture by Kant’s texts.
If, as we have seen, architecture, understood as an edifice (an
ornam ented structure in w hich the ornam ent is m eant to be
subordinate to the structure it articulates) is doubly subordinated
by philosophy (located w ith in the in fe rio r aesthetic dom ain and
then subordinated w ith in that dom ain) yet plays a central role
in establishing the very mechanism o f that subordination, the
question becomes: w hat is the strategic ro le o f architecture when
it is understood as housing? W hat ro le does the image o f the
house play in the p ositioning o f architecture? A nd, m ore pre­
cisely, what role do the hidden com plications o f the house play
in that positioning?
To ask these questions does n o t involve lo okin g fo r “houses”
in the discourse, b u t fo r the discursive effects o f p a rticu la r ideas
124____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

about housing; ideas that often do n o t m anifest themselves as


such b u t are embedded w ith in the discourse and surface only by
way o f various form s o f displacem ent These displacements even
operate w ith in those moments where the discourse is explicidy
addressing o r deploying the figure o f the house. Talk o f houses
usually acts as a cover fo r that w hich is threatening about houses.
Furtherm ore, there can be no talk about anything w ith o u t this
cover. The idea o f a discourse can never be separated from a
certain talk about houses, that is really to say a certain silence,
n o t the absence o f talk b u t a certain fo ld w ith in the fabric o f the
discourse w hich hides som ething unspeakable. To locate these
folds in order to com prehend the strategic role o f the house
cannot involve sim ply listening to the overt discourse. I t requires
a d iffe re n t kin d o f reading, one that actively employs gestures
th a t are at once m ore oblique and m ore brutal. And, in the end,
the question o f the house turns o u t to be precisely one o f
obliqueness and brutality.

T h e Taste o f D e rrid a

W ith in The C ritique o fJudgement we can easily fin d the subordina­


tio n o f space to speech that Heidegger reproduces and D errida
underm ines, a subordination made possible by the architectural
figure o f the edifice. Kant describes fin e a rt as a fo rm o f expres­
sion in w hich the dead body o f an object is given life by an artist,
anim ated in a way that presents the a rtist’s soul: “through these
figures the soul o f the artist furnishes a bodily expression fo r the
substance and character o f his thought, and makes the th in g
its e lf speak, as it were, in m im ic language . . . attributes to lifeless
things a soul suitable to th e ir fo rm , and . . . uses them as its
m outhpiece.” 1 Fine a rt speaks. I t is listened to rather than read.
Aesthetic ju d g m e n t depends on the b e lie f that the in te rn a l
“voice” attended to when confronted by a beautiful object is
com m on to a ll m ankind and is, therefore, the voice o f nature
rath er than culture. Whereas cultural conventions organize signs
that rem ain in the bodily realm detached fro m and subordinate
to w hat they represent, aesthetic taste requires a com plete disin­
terest in the bod ily existence o f the object: its u tility, fu n ctio n , o r
125_______________
T he Taste o f D errida

purpose. Taste is th a t encounter w ith an object in w hich the


object is n o t consumed, n o t mastered through appropriation,
n o t made servile, n o t used as a means to some independent end.
Aesthetic pleasure is attained through the suspension o f a ll bod­
ily desire and its “g ra tifica tio n ” in the “mere enjoyments o f sense
found in eating and d rin k in g .”2 To taste is to spit the object o u t
before it is consumed, to detach oneself from the object.
Aesthetic detachm ent is explicidy opposed to the consum ption
(use) o f an object in an economy. For Kant, fin e a rt transcends
the economic realm in w hich the exchange o f objects is orga­
nized by contracts, by being “free” precisely “in a sense opposed
to contract work, as n o t being a w ork the m agnitude o f w hich
may be estimated, exacted, o r paid fo r according to a d efin ite
standard.”3 This exclusion o f the econom ic fro m the aesthetic is
also the exclusion o f representation (the contractually organized
exchange o f signs fo r th in g s). The C ritique o fJudgement is orga­
nized by the need to privilege expression over representation by
preventing the contam ination o f fin e a rt by the bodily economy
from which it detaches itself, b u t on w hich it nevertheless de­
pends. It establishes a hierarchy o f the arts in w hich poetry is the
most privileged because it most resembles the im m ateriality o f
speech, and architecture is the least privileged because it remains
in the contractual econom y o f consum ption— representing bod­
ily function rather than presenting the soul:

The determining ground o f whose [architecture’s] form is not nature


but an arbitrary end . . . In architecture the chief point is a certain use
o f the artistic object to which, as the condition, the aesthetic ideas are
limited. . , . adaption o f the product to a particular use is the essential
element in a work o f architecture.4
Buildings are subordinated to speech because they are bound to
consum ption. For philosophy, there is a structural a ffin ity be­
tween architecture, physical desire, eating and d rin kin g . The a rt
o f space is degenerate. B ut if the fig u re o f the house, like that
o f the edifice, is em ployed by philosophy to effect this very
subordination by being aligned w ith speech, the house must be
seen as detached fro m digestion, n o t to m ention indigestion.
Indeed, it must act as the very figure o f this detachm ent I f the
figure o f the house is th a t o f the privileged in te rio r, the space o f
126____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

unm ediated presence, or, m ore precisely, the site o f the exclusion
o f space by presence, it must be unlike a stomach. There should
be no consum ption in the ideal house, no exchange w ith in or
across its borders. The architectural figure is again double, some­
times acting as the m odel o f philosophy’s desire and sometimes
the m odel o f what that desire attempts to transcend. W hen
architecture is e xplicitly addressed, it is excluded as the paradigm
o f consum ption. B ut when it is understood as a figure, it is the
paradigm o f that very exclusion. For philosophy, there is a w orld
o f difference between architecture and its figure. B ut what is it
about architecture that allows this reversal to take place? How
can the figure o f architecture “stand” against architecture? This
cannot sim ply involve a reversal. The figure m ust be tied in some
way to what it appears to detach itse lf from . Philosophy’s oppos­
in g constructions o f architecture cannot be separated. Its funda­
m ental ambivalence about architecture, an ambivalence w ith o u t
w hich it cou ld n ’t fu nction, actually occurs w ith in both its ideal
construction o f architecture as some k in d o f abstract spatiality
and its construction o f architecture as a m aterial spatiality.
The digestive system that the house both exem plifies and op­
poses is the site o f the in terna liza tion o f the outside. The figure
o f the house is that o f exclusion that m aintains a lin e between
inside and outside, w hile the digestive system is that w hich con­
fuses inside and outside, endlessly fo ld in g the lim it, transform ing
one in to the other. A t the same tim e, digestion’s messy realm o f
confusion is also the space o f separation, that which makes pos­
sible the sense that the body has an in te rio r in the firs t place.
The digestive system, w hich is neither inside or outside the body,
m aintains the lim its o f the body. Likewise, the sense o f the house
depends on that w hich subverts it. The two senses o f architecture
are interdependent. It is the labor o f philosophy to preserve the
sense that they can be separated.
I t is significant that D e rrid a ’s work, w hich is everywhere con­
cerned w ith such confusions o f lim its th a t actually makes them
possible and always understands the house as a mechanism o f
consum ption whose “domestic law” is econom ic, an “assm ilatory
power”5 that works to preserve what he once calls its “intestine” 6
condition, does n o t sim ply abandon the aesthetic b u t exploits a
127_______________
The Taste o f D errida

subversive possibility w ith in it. H is reading o f The C ritique oj


Judgement in “Econom im esis” argues th a t fin e a rt only detaches
itse lf from the representational economy o f m aterial objects in
order to participate in a “divine econom y” in w hich the artist
im itates God by transcending the w o rld o f products fo r that of
pure productivity. The hum an artist’s non-exchangeable produc­
tivity becomes exchangeable w ith that o f God. T his exchange
takes place on the basis o f what Kant describes as a “regular
agreement,” an “accordance,” a “com pact,” sealed by the “trace”
inscribed in nature th a t authorizes nature as a w ork o f art. In the
m om ent o f transcending the realm o f contracts, a divine econ­
omy constitutes its e lf on the basis o f a contract sealed by the
signature o f the divine artist. This hidden contract provides the
rules fo r fine a rt by organizing an expressive language: “the
cipher in which nature speaks to us figuratively in its beautiful
form s.”7 The hum an a rtist is able to im itate the divine artist by
speaking this natural language.
D errida examines the conditions o f this contract to see i f it
does sustain an econom y o f expression rather than repre­
sentation, taste ra th e r than consum ption. He notes that as fin e
a rt is a form o f speech, the aesthetic tu rn away from bodily
consum ption toward taste does n o t leave the m outh. The m outh
is the site o f both b o d ily consum ption and ideal detachm ent. The
privileging o f expression, o f speech over w ritin g, o f production
over consum ption, by the tra d itio n o f metaphysics disguises an
economy o f secret consum ption, covert representation governed
by repressed desire.
Throughout his w ork, D errida argues that to exclude some­
th in g by placing it “outside” is actually to co n tro l it, to p u t it in
its place, to enclose it. To exclude is to include. The very gesture
o f expelling representation appropriates it. Metaphysics appro­
priates whatever it places in “its” outside, such that “ its outside is
never its outside” 8 To expel representation to the “outside,” fo r
example, is to place it in “the exteriority, that it represses: that is
expels and, which am ounts to the same, internalizes as one o f its
m oments.” 9 Expulsion is consum ption. To lock som ething up
doesn’t involve sim ply im priso ning it w ith in fo u r walls. I t is im ­
prisoned simply by being banned. In fact, it is enclosed even
128____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

before it is o fficia lly excluded inasmuch as it can be defined,


portrayed as some kin d o f object that can be placed, w hether
inside o r outside. It is n o t so m uch a question o f placing it w ith in
visible lim its as declaring th a t it has lim its: “expulsed, excluded,
objectified o r (curiously am ounting to the same thing ) assimi­
lated and mastered as one o f its moments . . . constituting its
contrary as an object in o rd e r to be protected from it and to be
rid o f it. In order to lock it u p .”10 Each o ffic ia l p ro h ib itio n marks
the presence o f a forbidden desire, the covert assim ilation o f that
w hich should n o t be eaten: “to renounce the other (n o t by being
weaned fro m it, b u t by detaching oneself fro m it, which is actu­
ally to be in re la tio n to it, to respect it w hile nevertheless over­
lo okin g it, th a t is, w hile know ing it, id e n tifyin g it, assim ilating
it) .” 11 The metaphysics o f produ ction is always a secret economy
o f consum ption. Everywhere, the tra d itio n carries o u t its w ork o f
consum ption behind the disguise o f detachm ent, consum ing
w hat it claims to detach its e lf from .
In these terms, aesthetic detachm ent only excludes bodily con­
sum ption in order to master the object by consum ing it ideally:
“it also passes through a certain m outh . . . assimilates everything
to its e lf by idealizing it w ith in in te rio rity . . . refusing to touch it,
to digest it naturally, b u t digests it ideally, consumes what it does
n o t consume and vice versa.” 12 The divine economy is an econ­
omy o f consum ption like the m aterial economy it seeks to tra n ­
scend. The C ritique o fJudgement attem pts to exclude the sensual
as “positively subversive o f the judgem ent o f taste . . . it is only
where taste is s till weak and untrained that, like aliens, they are
adm itted as a favor, and only on term s that they do n o t violate
th a t beautiful fo rm .”13 D e rrid a exploits the subversive possibility
o f aesthetics by dem onstrating th a t the constitutional possibility
o f pure fo rm is precisely its vio latio n by a subversive alien; a
fore ign body th a t already inhabits the in te rio r and cannot be
expelled w ith o u t destroying its host; an alien that can only be
repressed. This constitutional vio latio n o f ideal fo rm by the body
in aesthetics is the constitutional vio latio n o f presence by repre­
sentation, speech by spacing.
D e rrid a ’s w ork is fu ll o f such gestures, w hich locate the aliens
w ith in that have been consumed to produce the effect o f pres-
129_______________
The Taste o f D errida

ence, arguing that, as he states when reading Hegel, “the act o f


consum ption . . . is n o t the negative o f presence.” 14 W hat makes
his reading o f aesthetics so pivotal in this extended series o f
readings is that in the case o f aesthetics, the alien that is secredy
consumed is itse lf a certain kin d o f consum ption. W hat is being
ostensibly excluded by Kant’s text, and therefore coverdy con­
sumed by it, is consum ption itself. In aesthetics, the already
convoluted economy o f metaphysics is doubled again, and this
doubling involves the architecture o f the house. W hen D e rrid a’s
‘Ja, ou le faux-bond” refers to “exclusion enclosing what it wants
to neutralize or cast o u t,”15 he is speaking o f the production o f
an enclosure, the sense o f an in te rio r, a space. B ut what is unique
about this space, and crucial to the question o f deconstruction
and architecture being raised here, is th a t it is a dom estic space
that attempts to dom esticate space.
O n the one hand, the space is dom estic inasm uch as the very
fo rm o f dom estication is that o f an exclusion th a t covertly in ­
cludes. When another o f his essays refers to that w hich is
“excluded o r mastered— that is to say dom esticated— by philoso­
phy,”16 D errida is ta citly describing the produ ction o f a particular
domestic space, the house o f the philosophical tra d itio n . O n the
other hand, what philosophy excludes from that house, the des­
ignated “outside” th a t is actually repressed on the inside o f the
dom estic space, is space itself, and philosophy’s paradigm o f
space is the house, th a t w hich divides an inside fro m an outside.
W hat is excluded is the m aterial b u ild in g that supposedly pro­
duces an unquestionable sense o f in te rio r and, as such, is repeat­
edly pointed to in order to legitim ize philosophical practice.
W hat is excluded fro m the inside o f philosophy is the m aterial
production o f an inside that it employs to guarantee the very
idea o f interior, in clu d in g its own. Philosophy is only able to
organize itself a roun d the idea o f in te rio r by excluding its para­
digm o f that idea in order to repress certain effects o f that
paradigm , effects th a t are threatening inasm uch as they are struc­
tural, which is to say, in terna l. The house o f philosophy is pro­
duced as such by repressing som ething about houses.
W hat is repressed is n o t sim ply som ething about the m aterial
reality o f houses th a t m ust be hidden to cleanse the im m aterial
130____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

discourse, b u t som ething in the representational system o f that


discourse that makes the idea o f house possible in the firs t place,
som ething that must be hidden precisely because, among o ther
things, it calls in to question the opposition between im m aterial
and m aterial. To id entify this repression does not involve lo okin g
fo r some architectural reality the tra d itio n a l discourse overlooks,
b u t looking m ore closely at the architecture b u ilt in to that dis­
course, the architecture that allows the discourse to look in the
firs t place. Indeed, what is at stake here is the tra d itio n ’s repre­
sentation, w hich is to say construction, o f the house as som ething
that precedes representation, firs t in the sense o f being some
kin d o f object standing in the w orld that can be represented and
is independent o f its representations, and second and m ore
crucially, in the sense that this object is n o t in itse lf a mechanism
o f representation, that it is so detached from representation that
it can act as the very figure o f presence.
The question here becomes: what disruptions o f the house are
ostensibly excluded, w hile being systematically repressed w ith in
the discourse, in order to sustain this generic image o f the house
as that w hich sim ply and unproblem atically excludes through the
in stitu tio n o f a spatial division like a wall?
T his is an even m ore com plicated question than it m ight at
firs t appear, because the house can never sim ply be repressed
inasmuch as it is repression that makes possible the image o f the
house and, equally, the idea o f repression is unthinkable “out­
side” that o f the house. It has to be recalled that Freud often
employs the figure o f the house, its rooms, and the doorways
between them to describe the mechanism o f repression. Like­
wise, he employs the figure o f digestion. For the tra d itio n to
constitute its e lf as a house by repressing a certain part o f the
house m ust involve secretly digesting that disturbing part, secret­
in g it inside, secreting it to produce the very sense o f inside. The
tra d itio n consumes the threatening aspect o f the house and
conceals that consum ption, or, rather, conceals the indigestion
that it produces. W hat the tra d itio n represses, in order to at once
represent its e lf as a house and represent the house as unm edi­
ated presence, is its own indigestion. In the end, metaphysics is
the suppression o f the indigestion o f the house, the indigestion
131_______________________
The Indigestion o f the H ouse

that must be repressed in order that any house can appear as


such; the indigestion that makes the house possible; literally, the
in te rn a l structure o f the house, its always veiled constitution.
A house, then, is no m ore than the repression o f a constitu­
tiona l indigestion. There is no house w ith o u t eithe r indigestion
o r its concealment. The lin e drawn by a house is n o t that be­
tween what appears as an inside and what appears as an outside,
b u t the less clearly defined and m uch m ore convoluted one
between the visible and the invisible. The security o f a house is
n o t its capacity to enclose o r exclude, b u t its capacity to conceal.

T h e In d ig e stio n o f th e H ouse

To understand how indigestion and the house are bound to­


gether, it is necessary to see how architecture, and the house in
particular, are w ritte n in to aesthetics and its argum ent about
consum ption ra th e r than sim ply being subjected to i t The argu­
m ent is put in place by architecture before it is used to p u t
architecture in its place. In fact, as we have already seen, the very
firs t example in The C ritique o fJudgement, the one th a t establishes
the sense o f aesthetic disinterest, is architectural. The book be­
gins by distinguishing a rustic h u t fro m a palace, b u ild in g from
architecture. The disinterested eye is opposed to the hungry
stomach by sp littin g b u ild in g and architecture:

I f any one asks me w hether I consider that the palace I see before me
is beautiful, I may, perhaps, reply th a t I do n o t care fo r things o f th a t
sort th a t are m erely made to be gaped at. O r I may reply in the same
strain as that Iroquois sachem who said th a t n o th in g in Paris pleased
h im better than the eating-houses. I may even go a step fu rth e r and
inveigh w ith the v ig o r o f a Rousseau against the vanity o f the great who
spend the sweat o f the people on such superfluous things. Or, in tim e,
I may quite easily persuade m yself th a t i f I found m yself on an u n in ­
habited island, w ith o u t hope o f ever again com ing am ong m en, and
could conjure such a palace in to existence by a m ere wish, I should
s till n o t trouble to do so, as long as I had a h u t there th a t was
com fortable fo r m e. A ll this may be adm itted and approved; only it is
n o t the p o in t now at issue.17

The degeneration o f taste in to consum ption is the degeneration


from the house detached fro m consum ption (the palace) to the
132____________________
Throwing Up Architecture

house o f consum ption (the eating-house). Kant contrasts the


u tilita ria n concern w ith bodily consum ption o f the p rim itive w ith
the aesthetic disinterest o f the cultivated: “taste that requires an
added elem ent o f charm and emotion fo r its d e lig h t . . . has n o t
yet emerged o u t from barbarism .” 18 To become cultivated is to
“raise ourselves above the level o f the senses,”19 to move from the
bod ily to the ideal, from gratificatio n to pleasure, fro m the un­
adorned u tilita ria n rustic h u t to the ornam ented house that is
superfluous to u tility, the house o f the aristocracy: the palace.
The desire to transcend the body by adorning it begins w ith the
social acquisition o f language: “w ith no one to take in to account
b u t h im self a man abandoned on a desert island w ould n o t
adorn e ithe r him self o r his h u t.”20 The C ritique o fJudgement p riv i­
leges the very th in g that Rousseau condemns: fine a rt based on
the transcendence o f bodily fu n ctio n that is only available to the
aristocracy.
For Rousseau, architecture is a co rru p tio n o f the purity, the
innocence o f b u ild in g . The prim itive hut, the basic house that
does no m ore than define an in te rio r space, occupies the p riv i­
leged place between nature and its substitution w ith language, a
substitution firs t required w ith the weaning o f the ch ild . Lan­
guage originates as a substitute fo r m other’s m ilk, the voice o f
m other nature, and so is its e lf a form o f speech, a fo rm o f
expression organized by a “social contract” s till tied in to the
o rd e r o f nature. B ut w ith the rise o f lu xu ry came what A Discourse
on the O rig in o f Inequality describes as “the easiness o f exciting and
gratifying o u r sensual appetites, the too exquisite foods o f the
wealthy w hich overheat and f ill them w ith indigestion,” upsetting
“ the good constitution o f the savages.”21 The unnatural excesses
th a t produced this indigestion also produced a rt through the
adornm ent o f the naked body o f the prim itive and “his” h u t w ith
representations detached fro m the p u rity o f nature and, there­
fore, in the words o f A Discourse on the M o ra l Effects o f the A rts and
Sciences, a fo rm o f perversion, a “vice”:

It is beneath the rustic clothes o f a farmer and not beneath the g ilt o f
a courtier that strength and vigor o f the body w ill be found. Ornamen­
tation is no less foreign to virtue, which is the strength and vigor o f the
soul. The good man is the athlete who likes to compete in the nude.
133_______________________
The In digestion o f the H ouse

He disdains all those vile ornaments which would hamper the use of
his strength, most o f which were invented only to hide some
deformity.22

This degeneration fro m expression to representation, from the


livin g voice o f nature to the dead body o f a sign, is also fo r
Rousseau a degeneration from b u ild in g to architecture, from the
unadorned rustic h u t to the ornam ented tem ple that conceals
some structural deform ity: ‘T h e n came the height o f degeneracy,
and vice has never been carried so far as it was seen, to speak
figuratively, supported by m arble colum ns and engraved on
C orinthian capitals.”23 For Rousseau, the undecorated house pre­
cedes indigestion. B u t again we are bound to ask, what exactly is
it “to speak figurative ly” here?
The Social Contract attempts to remove the excesses o f fine a rt
by restoring a contract, a restoration that its e lf turns out to be a
b u ild in g project: “Before p u ttin g up a large b u ild in g , the archi­
tect surveys and sounds the site to see i f it w ill bear the w eight.”24
Rousseau appeals to this architectural image again in A Discourse
on the O rigin o f In e q u a lity in order to argue that the in stitu tio n o f
the social contract turns o u t to be grounded in nature: “all
hum an institutions seem at firs t glance to be founded m erely on
banks o f shifting sand. It is only by taking a closer look, and
rem oving the dust and sand that surround the edifice, that we
perceive the im m ovable basis on w hich it is raised, and learn to
respect its foundations.”25 Kantian aesthetics, on the other hand,
is governed by the same architectonic figure b u t attempts to
restore a divine contract by cultivating fin e art based on excess.
Whereas Rousseau attem pts to reject ornam ent, Kant attempts to
tame it.
Nevertheless, K a n t’s privileg ing o f fine a rt and Rousseau’s con­
dem nation o f it veils a fundam ental com plicity between them.
Kant’s Anthropology fro m a Pragm atic P o in t o f View significandy
explains the standard use o f the “organic” w ord “taste” (which
usually refers to the sensuous surface o f “the inside o f the
m outh” ) fo r the “id e a l” power o f aesthetic ju d g m e n t by arguing
that the host’s selection o f a variety o f food at a d in n e r party is
the m odel.26 His early lecture “O n Philosopher’s M edicine o f the
Body” not only addresses the d in n e r party when discussing the
134____________________
Throwing Up Architecture

relationship between th in kin g and eating, but raises the question


o f what it is fo r a cerebral philosopher like him to address such
a bod ily scene.27 In his Metaphysics o f M orals,26 Kant shares Rous­
seau’s condem nation o f overeating as an im m oral “vice.” In these
terms, his The C ritique o fJudgement remains bound to Rousseau’s
account o f the prim itive. It employs the m etaphor o f taste pre­
cisely fo r its links w ith the m other’s breast— such that it is the
m other’s voice that is listened to when appreciating fine art.
Equally, Rousseau’s account m aintains the same aesthetic as
Kant, in w hich color is subordinated to design as “purely a
pleasure o f the sense.”29 Both argue that expression has been, as
the C ritique puts it, “violated and rendered im pure”30 by the
sensuality o f representation, and both attem pt to restore its pu­
rity, its innocence and primacy. In so doing, they sustain the
tra d itio n o f metaphysics that attem pts to domesticate repre­
sentation. Both are com m itted to a regim e o f dom estication—
com m itted, that is, to m aintain the house.
The strategic operation o f this dom estication in the m ainte­
nance o f metaphysics is very lite ra l in Rousseau. H is e xp licit
rejection o f slavery, fo r example, is based on a h o rro r o f the
dom estication o f “m an,” w hich im p licid y establishes the necessity
o f the dom estication o f m an’s other as slave. The house is the
mechanism o f this mastery. In the Discourse on the O rig in o f In ­
equality, men and women ceased to be equal w ith the o rig in o f
the house: “The sexes, whose m anner o f life had been h ith e rto
the same, began now to adopt d iffe re n t ways o f livin g. The
women became m ore sedentary, and accustomed themselves to
m ind the h u t and th e ir children, w hile the men went abroad in
search o f th e ir common subsistence.”31 Language is acquired by
the men outside the h u t rather than w ith in it, as can be seen in
Essay on the O rig in o f Languages: “genuine languages are n o t at all
o f dom estic o rig in . They can be established only under a m ore
general, m ore durable agreement. The Am erican savages hardly
speak at a ll except outside th e ir homes. Each keeps silent in his
h u t.”32 The expressions sustained by this fraternal contract are
violated by representations when the woman assumes the m an’s
authority by leaving the house.
1S5_______________________
T he In digestion o f the H ouse

The same oppressive sense can be found thro ugho ut Kant’s


w ritin g , but is m ost e x p lic it in his “p o litic a l” texts, as can be seen
when The Philosophy o f Law speaks o f the “equality” o f the partners
in a m arriage contract only to im m ediately argue that the hus­
band’s “supremacy” over the wife does n o t violate this equality
because o f the “natural superiority o f the husband com pared
w ith the w ife.”33 The same d u p licity is evident in his insistence
on the p olitica l equality o f all subjects in the essay “O n the
Common Saying: ‘T his May be True in Theory, B ut it Does N o t
Apply in Practice,” ’ w hich im m ediately goes on to conclude that
the only thing th a t disqualifies any person from citizenship is
being a woman, a person who has no property precisely because
she is property.34 T his exclusion fro m the pub lic dom ain presup­
poses both physical and legal confinem ent to the domestic as
w ell as the confinem ent o f authority to the dom estic, as can be
seen when Anthropology from a Pragm atic P oint o f View argues that
the w ife’s “ legal voicelessnes w ith regard to pub lic transactions
makes her all the m ore pow erful in dom estic m atters.”35 Kant
repeatedly associates the figure o f the woman w ith the su­
perficia lity o f m aterial ornam ent, the seductions o f repre­
sentation that distract reason, w hile the man is associated w ith
the supposed penetration o f reason to the in fin ite depth o f
im m aterial ideas.
For both Kant and Rousseau, woman is the figure o f the
dispossession o f the a u thority o f im m ediate expression by the
m ediations o f representation. She is a double figure: the para­
digm o f nature when dom esticated in the house and the para­
digm o f the alienation from nature when outside the house,
untamed. In O f Grammatology, D errida looks at the way in which,
fo r Rousseau, w om en’s power is the “paradigm o f violence and
p o litica l anomaly” hence the necessity o f “containing them
w ith in domestic governm ent” such that “woman takes her place,
rem ains in her place.”36 T his domestic order is understood as the
basis o f a ll p o litica l order. The threat the woman poses to that
order is, fo r D errida, “dire ctly lin ke d ” to the subversive spacings
o f w riting. Its n o t that w ritin g is like a woman who must be
domesticated. Rather, the woman has to be dom esticated inas-
136____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

m uch as she is like w ritin g. In the face o f this threat, w hich is


that o f a supplem ent, an ornam ent that is somehow necessary to
the system and yet violates it, Rousseau attempts to “ arrest it,
domesticate it, tame it.”37 The logic o f ornam ent installed by the
architectural figure o f the edifice is inseparable from that o f the
house.
F em ininity is n o t sim ply one example o f the supplements that
must be placed under house arrest. A ll supplements are con­
structed as fem inine. The fem inine being that which is dom esti­
cated, produced as such in the m om ent o f dom estication, or,
rather, produced in the ongoing b u t always frustrated attem pt to
domesticate. Metaphysics is a determ ination o f place th a t at­
tempts to domesticate the other, as it domesticates woman, ren­
dering whatever it domesticates “fem inin e” by placing it. The
fem inine is th a t w hich is placed. The m astery o f philosophy is
that o f the master o f the house, the patriarchal authority that
makes the other a slave w ith in the house, a domestic servant or
servant o f domesticity. W hatever threatens the authority o f the
“man o f the house” threatens metaphysics. Again, this is n o t so
m uch a m atter o f placing the other in a p articular space as it is
o f placing it in the subordinate realm o f m aterial space. The
in stitu tio n o f space that D errida obliquely interrogates is, from
the beginning, organized around a certain th in kin g about—
w hich is to say, construction o f—the space o f the house.
A nd if the question o f architecture is most e xp licit in decon-
structive discourse when it is addressing politics, the politics o f
architecture become m ore e x p lic it when the edifice is fig u re d as
a house. N o t because o f the lite ra l politics o f the house— the
oppression o f women, fo r example, as a p o litica l reality (some­
th in g both m ore “p o litic a l” and m ore “real” than other subjects
o f deconstructive discourse)— b u t because the very sense o f the
p o litica l, the classical d e fin itio n o f politics, (n o t to m ention the
sense o f reality) comes fro m a certain representation o f the
house. The law is always, in the end, the law o f the house. The
question o f politics is always one o f dom estic economy. As Der­
rida argues in “Interpretations at W ar” : “ oikonom ia here names
the law o f the fam ily oikos as the law, perio d.”38 W hether it
addresses politics o r not, philosophy can never be apolitical. It
137_______________________
T he In digestion o f the House

can never be detached from the vio le n t law o f the domestic. O n


the contrary, it is at once its m anifestation and its defense, as
alluded to in a passage from Glas that identifies the domestic
regim e in and o f H egel’s philosophy:

Economy: the law o f the fam ily, o f the fa m ily hom e, o f possession. The
econom ic act makes fam iliar, proper, one’s own, intim a te , private. The
sense o f property, o f propriety, in general is collected in the oikeios. . . .
A nd so political. T he p o litic a l opposes its e lf to the fa m ilia l w hile ac­
com plishing i t . . . T he eidos, the general fo rm o f philosophy, is properly
fa m ilia l and produces its e lf as oikos: hom e, habitatio n, apartm ent, room ,
residence, tem ple, to m b [tombeau], hive, assets [avoir], fam ily, race, and
so on. I f a com m on sense is given the re in , it is the guarding o f the
proper, o f property, propriety, o f one’s own . . ,39

This id entity between the law o f the house and the tra d itio n o f
metaphysics is one o f the most insistent themes thro ugho ut Der­
rid a ’s work. But the sense that philosophy is the defense o f the
politics o f the house is not, as it were, forced onto the trad ition .
I t is already w ritten in to it, often explicitly, as when Rousseau’s
A Discourse on P o litic a l Economy identifies the dom esticity o f p o li­
tics: ‘T h e word Economy, o r Oeconomy, is derived fro m oikos,
house, and nomos, law, and m eant o rig in a lly only the wise and
legitim ate governm ent o f the house fo r the com m on good o f the
whole fam ily.”40 F urtherm ore, the privilege o f the house is n o t
w ritten in to the texts o f the tra d itio n as one theme am ong others.
W hether e xp licit o r not, it operates as th e ir organizational
p rinciple.
The sense o f security associated w ith the m aterial space o f the
house that philosophy draws on can never be detached fro m the
vio le n t subordination o f the fem inine, where the fem inine is
understood as spacing. To subordinate is to suppress spacing in
favor o f space, or, m ore precisely, to produce the effect o f space
by suppressing spacing. The house is n o t sim ply the site o f a
particular subordination, a particular kin d o f violence. It is the
very principle o f violence. To dom inate is always to house, to
place in the domus. D om ination is dom estication.
Yet the house does n o t sim ply precede what it domesticates.
The house is itse lf an effect o f suppression. The classical figure
o f the fem inine is th a t w hich lacks its own secure boundaries,
138____________________
T hrow ing U p A rch ite ctu re

producing insecurity by disru p tin g boundaries, and w hich there­


fore must be housed by masculine force that is no m ore than the
ability to m aintain rig id lim its or, m ore precisely, the effect o f
such lim its, the representation o f a space, a representation that
is not only violendy enforced by a range o f disciplinary structures
(legal, philosophical, econom ic, aesthetic, technical, social, and
so on), but is itse lf already a fo rm o f violence. M asculinity is n o t
only erection b u t also enclosure, the logic o f the house is as
phallocentric as that o f the tower. The tower, in the end, is a
house. Kant discloses this im p lic it agenda that organizes the
architectural figure in philosophy at the very end o f the C ritique
o f Pure Reason when he redesigns the edifice it attempts to con­
struct as a house: “although we had contem plated b u ild in g a
tower which should reach the heavens, the supply o f m aterials
suffices only fo r a dw elling house . . . b u ild in g a secure hom,e fo r
ourselves.”41 T his house is n o t sim ply a substitute that w ill be
abandoned when the tower o f metaphysics is fin a lly com pleted.
Rather, the house is what is always installed behind the m ore
visible dream o f philosophy.
A rchitecture is bound to metaphysics because it represents the
capacity to domesticate. It is n o t sim ply a question o f the solidity
o f its foundations. Rather, it is the apparent solidity o f its walls,
the security o f its enclosure, its d e fin itio n o f space, its production
o f place. Deconstructive discourse threatens the tra d itio n o f
metaphysics by disturbing the ability o f its constructions to p u t
things in th e ir place. It produces this displacem ent by id e n tifyin g
the series o f undecidable figures that resist dom estication inas­
much as they can be neith er housed n o r evicted. In so doing, it
necessarily disturbs architecture.

The D isgusting T ru th

As the house is the privileged site o f the ideal speech o f logos


dreamed o f by philosophy, to locate that w hich resists dom esti­
cation is to locate that w hich resists the mastery o f the m outh,
eluding the relentless economy o f consum ption. D e rrid a ’s
“Economimesis” interrogates the lim its o f both the overt bod ily
economy and the covert ideal economy o f metaphysics by look-
139
T he D isgusting T ru th

ing closely in to the m outh they share fo r th a t w hich resists


consum ption because it is neith er bod ily n o r ideal and therefore
cannot be digested, assimilated, appropriated, o r mastered, that
w hich “cannot be eaten either sensibly o r ideally and w hich . . .
by never le ttin g its e lf be swallowed m ust therefore cause its e lf to
be vomited,”*2 He notes that The C ritique offudgem ent exp licitly
identifies this inconsum able other that removes the d istinction
between representation and presentation and resists the aes­
thetic eye as the “disgusting”:

One kind o f ugliness alone is incapable o f being represented conform­


ably to nature without destroying all aesthetic delight, and consequently
artistic beauty, namely, that which excites disgust For, as in this strange
sensation, which depends purely on the imagination, the object is
represented as insisting, as it were, upon our enjoying it, while we still
set our face against it, the artificial representation o f the object is no
longer distinguishable from the nature o f the object itself in our sen­
sation, and so it cannot possibly be regarded as beautiful.43

Aesthetics is defined by its exclusion o f the disgusting. I t is a


disgust fo r that sensuality w hich imposes enjoym ent, enslaving
the observer by seducing it and thereby reversing the mastery o f
the ideal over the b o d ily dictated by metaphysics, a mastery that
can never be separated from the m astery o f the house. W hat is
tru e ly disgusting is n o t sim ply what is seen b u t the disruption o f
vision it produces. A t one p o in t in his Anthropology from a Prag­
m atic P oint o f View, K ant sym ptom atically associates vom it w ith the
extent to which certain visual perceptions can remove the dis­
tin c tio n between m ental and physical:

The illusion caused by the strength o f our imagination often goes so far
that we think we see and feel outside us what is only in our mind . . .
The sight o f others eating loathsome things (as when the Tunguse
rhythmically suck out and swallow the mucus from their children’s
noses) moves the spectator to vomit, just as if he himself were forced
to eat it.44

Vom it marks the lim it o f vision, its in a b ility to be aesthetically


detached. As Kant argues in his Observations on the Feeling o f the
B e a u tifu l and the Sublim e: “N o thing is so m uch set against the
beautiful as disgust.”45 Symptomatically, he says so in defining the
difference between the sexes. Inasm uch as the “beauty” o f the
140
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

dom esticated woman is the very figure o f the aesthetic, the


disgusting is that w hich threatens her dom estication. Women are
m eant to be “cleanly and very delicate in respect to a ll that
provokes disgust,”46 such that th e ir most “p a in fu l” in sult is “being
called disg ustin g ” as distinct from the man who, as the “na tu ra l”
agent o f reason which is the force o f dom estication, is most
offended by being called a “fo o l”*1 Kant’s whole system turns on
a phallocentric resistance to the contam inations o f the
disgusting.
In nam ing the disgusting as that w hich cannot be consumed,
that w hich belongs “outside” aesthetics at the greatest distance
from reason, the philosophical economy attempts to appropriate
it, consume it as its “ other.” B u t as the real other o f this economy
that consumes whatever it represents (consum ing it in repre­
senting it) is th a t which cannot be represented, words like “dis­
gusting” s till do n o t name it. As D errida argues: “the w ord vom it
. . . is then fo r philosophy s till, an e lixir, even in the very quin­
tessence o f its bad taste.”48 The expulsion o f any threat to the
“outside” represses the h o rro r o f that w hich violates the p h ilo ­
sophical economy but cannot be detached from it, the subversive
alien that inhabits the very m outh that represses it, the “inas-
sim ilable, obscene other w hich forces enjoym ent and whose ir ­
repressible violence w ould undo the hierarchizing a uthority”49 o f
metaphysics. In the end, the distastefully enslaving violence o f
the visceral is n o t outside the tra d itio n that condemns it. O n the
contrary, it is the very possibility o f both taste and the reason
that cultivates it.
This argum ent draws on Nietzsche’s id e n tifica tio n o f the stra­
tegic role o f disgust in the constitution o f institutions, w hich
D errida b rie fly discusses in a footnote to “O tobiographies” :

Nietzsche constantly draws o u r a ttention to the value o f le a rn in g to


vom it, fo rm in g in this way one’s taste, distaste and disgust, know ing
how to use one’s m outh and palate, m oving one’s tongue and lips,
having good teeth o r being hard-toothed, understanding how to speak
and to eat (but n o t ju s t anything !). A ll this we know, as w ell as the fact
th a t the w ord “Ekel” (disgust, nausea, w anting to vom it) comes back
again and again to set the stage fo r evaluation . . . it is disgust that
controls everything.50
141______________
V io la tin g the C rypt

In such terms, D e rrid a does n o t id e n tify the distasteful alien in


order to simply escape the regim e o f metaphysics. The disgusting
is n o t outside the in s titu tio n , as the outside is as m uch a mecha­
nism o f consum ption as the inside. To sim ply go “outside” meta­
physics is not to escape its m outh b u t to rem ain inside it, even
to be “swallowed” by it as “Structure, Sign and Play” rem inds us:
‘T h e step ‘outside philosophy’ is m uch m ore d iffic u lt to conceive
than is generally im agined by those who th in k they made it long
ago w ith cavalier ease, and who in general are swallowed up in
metaphysics in the entire body o f discourse w hich they claim to
have disengaged fro m it.”51
D errida locates the gastric disorder w ith in the in stitu tio n o f
metaphysics itself, w ith in the lin e it constantly draws between
inside and outside. In m aintaining the tra d itio n a l economy o f
consum ption, the texts o f Rousseau and Kant, fo r example, p rivi­
lege the scene in w hich, as Rousseau puts it in Em ile , “indigestion
is unknow n,”52 the scene set, as Kant argues in Education , by
regulating the w om an’s behavior such that the c h ild does n o t
“throw up” its m o th e r’s m ilk.53 Rather than abandoning this
tra d itio n , deconstructive discourse disturbs its authority by trac­
in g the effects o f an indigestible other w ith in it, philosophy’s
indigestion, the irre d u cib le and irresistible foreignness w ith in
philosophy that disseminates its e lf cryptically thro ugho ut p h ilo ­
sophic practice. I t begins to do so by dem onstrating that each o f
the binary oppositions o f concepts that organize the tra d itio n o f
metaphysics is made possible by a double figure that radically
convolutes the opposition, that the tra d itio n is made possible by
that which violates it by resisting consum ption and giving it
perm anent indigestion. These “undecidables” uncannily occupy
the house but cannot be dom esticated by it. N e ither inside n o r
outside the house, unable to be swallowed o r spat out, they are
the very possibility o f the house. The uncanniness o f the house
itse lf is produced by its constitutive indigestion.

V io la tin g the C ry p t

Freud’s essay on the uncanny w ith w hich D e rrid a identifies his


th in k in g about und ecid ability tracks the “double” gesture by
142____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

w hich the fa m ilia r becomes frightening, the hdm liche resonating


w ith what it supposedly excludes, such that what doesn’t “belong
in the house” somehow belongs and the un fa m ilia r rem ains all
too fam iliar. W ith in the security o f the hom ely is an im proprie ty
that is h o rrify in g i f exposed, precisely because it does n o t befall
an innocent subject. Indeed, it constitutes the subject as such,
being “in re a lity nothing new o r alien, b u t som ething w hich is
fa m ilia r and old-established in the m ind and w hich has become
alienated from it only through the process o f repression.”54 It is
n o t sim ply th a t the subject is frightened. Rather it is the consti­
tu tio n o f the subject that is frightening. The secret o f this con­
stitu tio n a l vio latio n haunts the house in the same way as the
“residues” and “traces” o f prim itive people haunt the supposedly
civilized person and those o f the c h ild haunt the adult. For
Freud, the passage from c h ild to adu lt is that fro m p rim itive to
civilized. Rather than a passage from innocence to vio latio n (as
in Rousseau’s account), it is a passage fro m (what w ill be seen in
adulthood as) violation to its repression. The uncanny h o rrifie s
because it exposes an orig in a ry violation that has been repressed.
Freud argues that the gesture o f the “double” originates as a
means fo r p rim itive people to resist the fear o f death by d ividing
the w orld in to body and soul, w hich is to say that metaphysics
emerges as the suppression o f a fear. B ut this p rim itive fear
returns in civilization whenever the distin ctio n between im agina­
tio n (representation) and reality (presentation) based on that
o rig in a l division is “effaced.” The double reverses to become the
“uncanny harbinger o f death,”55 re tu rn in g the civilized subject
to the p rim itive fear and the adu lt to the childhood scene o f
violation. T his re tu rn to the prim al scene, this “re tu rn o f the
repressed,” h o rrifie s in a way that activates “the urge towards
defence w hich has caused the ego to project the m aterial out­
ward as som ething fore ign to itse lf.”56 Elsewhere, Freud argues
that this defensive mechanism o f repulsion is erected d u rin g the
“latency” pe rio d in w hich the c h ild /p rim itiv e is trained to subli­
mate its o rig in a l perversions w ith feelings o f “disgust, feelings o f
shame, and the claims o f aesthetics and m oral ideals.”57 In these
terms, aesthetics is a defensive mechanism o f repression that
excludes whatever disgusts by fo rcin g the effacem ent o f the dis-
143______________
V io la tin g the C rypt

tin ctio n between presentation and representation. As aesthetics


operates in the service o f metaphysics, w hich is n o th in g m ore
than the m aintenance o f that d istinction, it is unsurprising that
Freud finds:

As good as no th in g is to be found upon this subject [th e uncanny] in


comprehensive treatises on aesthetics, w hich in general prefer to con­
cern themselves w ith w hat is beautiful, attractive and sublim e— that is,
w ith feelings o f a positive nature— and w ith the circum stances and the
objects that call them fo rth , ra th e r than w ith the opposite feelings o f
repulsion and distress.58

The aesthetic exclusion o f the disgusting resists the prim itive fear
o f death revived by the uncanny. I t is a certain com ing to terms
w ith death. Aesthetic pleasure is that o f m ournin g which, fo r
Freud, derives fro m systematically detaching and taking w ith in
oneself (“in tro je ctin g ”) a ll the parts o f oneself contained in what
has been lost. As he argues in “M o u rn in g and M elancholia” : “the
ego, confronted as it were w ith the question w hether it shall
share [the] fate [o f the lost object], is persuaded by the sum o f
the narcissistic satisfactions it derives fro m being alive to sever its
attachm ent to the object that has been abolished.”59 As the de­
tachm ent o f all interest, a ll desire, fro m the object, m ourning is
the paradigm o f aesthetic pleasure. T ha t w hich forces one to
desire to vom it is, as D errida argues, that w hich prevents m ourn­
ing: “le t it be understood in all senses that what the w ord dis­
gusting denominates is what one cannot resign oneself to
m ourn.” 60 The tra d itio n o f reason, w hich, as Heidegger argues,
depends on, rather than sim ply orchestrates, aesthetics,61 can be
displaced by dem onstrating that this in a b ility to m ourn o f the
disgusting n o t only inhabits taste but makes it possible. Good
taste cannot detach its e lf from the forb idd en pleasure o f the
distasteful. I t can only, indeed has to, conceal it.
D errida offers a m ore detailed account o f the disgusting in his
reading o f the psychoanalysis o f the refusal to m ourn by Nicholas
Abraham and M aria Torok, who reread Freud by arguing that
the pathological c o n d itio n o f this refusal is a fantasy o f “incor­
poratio n,” o f taking in to the body the lost object itself, lite ra lly
consum ing the object b u t doing so precisely to preserve it, to
deny its loss: “It is to avoid ‘swallowing’ the loss, that one imag-
144____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

ines swallowing, or having swallowed, what is lost, in the fo rm o f


an object.” 62 As D errida notes, the object is appropriated to keep
it as other, as foreign, as a foreign body w ith in one’s own body,
taken in to the body precisely to stop it from contam inating and
disfig u rin g the body by keeping it w ithdraw n in in d e fin ite quar­
antine: “reta ining the object w ith in its e lf b u t as som ething ex­
cluded, as a fore ign body w hich is im possible to assimilate and
m ust be rejected.” 63 Unable to sim ply expel the object, “the
fantasy involves eating the object (through the m outh o r other­
wise) in order not to in tro je ct it, in order to vom it it, in a way,
in to the inside, in to the pocket o f a cyst.” 64 The forbidden object
is throw n up in to some folds in the body’s lim it, hidden in a
space that is neith er inside n o r outside.
Such a fantasy is necessary when norm al m ourning w ould
expose and destroy the pleasure o f a sham eful experience w ith
an indispensable object. To preserve this secret pleasure, the
subject preserves and protects the object, keeping it alive. Or,
m ore precisely, allow ing it to survive, to live on, n e ith e r alive n o r
dead, as some kin d o f phantom . The o rig in a l traum a o f the
ille gitim ate experience transform ed the subject’s psychic topog­
raphy, and this transform ation has been hidden ever since. The
fantasy o f in corp oration m aintains this hidden topography in the
face o f the reality o f a loss that, if acknowledged, w ould make
the transform ation visible and com pel an unbearable topological
change. I t does so by m aintaining the illu sio n that the ille g iti­
mate experience never occurred. To do so requires an “act o f
vom iting to the inside,” 65 which defines a secret vault w ith in the
subject, what Abraham and Torok call a “cryp t,” constructed by
the lib id in a l forces o f the traum atic scene w hich, as D errida
argues, “through th e ir contradiction, through th e ir very opposi­
tio n , support the in te rn a l resistance o f the vault like pillars,
beams, studs, and re ta in in g walls, leaning the powers o f in to le r­
able pain against an ineffable, forb idd en pleasure.” 66
As both the h id in g o f a secret and the h id in g o f that hidin g,
the crypt cannot sim ply take its place in the topography it pre­
serves. The tra d itio n a l dem arcations between inside and outside,
the closure established by the drawing o f a line, the division o f
145______________
V io la tin g the C rypt

a space by a wall, is disturbed by the in te rn a l fra ctu rin g o f the


walls by the crypt. The cryp t organizes the space in w hich it can
never sim ply be placed, sustaining the very topography it frac­
tures. However, these fractures are n o t new. They have been
present in the topography ever since the o rig in a l traum atic
scene, organizing the self and m aking the illu sio n that the scene
never occurred possible. The fantasy o f in corp oration m aintains
a crypt that was already secreted w ith in a pocket in the
topography.

N o t having been taken back inside the self, digested, assim ilated as in
a ll “norm al” m ourning, the dead object rem ains like a liv in g dead
abscessed in a specific spot in the ego. It has its place, ju s t like a crypt
in a cem etery or tem ple, surrounded by walls and a ll the rest. The dead
object is incorporated in th is cryp t— the term “inco rp o ra te d ” signalling
precisely that one has fa ile d to digest o r assim ilate it totally, so that it
rem ains there, fo rm in g a pocket in the m o u rn in g body . . . By contrast,
in norm al m ourning, i f such a th in g exists, I take the dead upon myself,
I digest it, assimilate it, idealize it, and in te rio riz e it . . .67

By resisting consum ption, this cryptic “architecture” disturbs the


operation o f language th a t Abraham and Torok argue is acquired
through m ourning: the substitution o f signs fo r the absence o f
objects, which “makes up fo r that absence by representing pres­
ence.” 68 In orthodox term s, this substitution begins w ith the
absence o f the m o th e r’s breast w ith in the m outh: “First the
empty m outh, then the absence o f objects become words, and
fin a lly experiences w ith words themselves are converted in to
other words.” 69 The c ryp t is constructed because o f the impossi­
b ility o f using language in the norm al way (by exchanging words
fo r certain objects in voicing g rie f fo r th e ir absence) w ith out
revealing a shameful secret: “the im possibility o f expressing, o f
placing words onto the m arket.”70 Nevertheless, it hides its e lf
w ith in the m arketplace as another kin d o f contract, organizing
another operation o f language. Even w hile keeping its secret, the
crypt leaks. It does so through convoluted transform ations o f the
w ord as a m aterial object, w hich displaces words that cannot be
spoken w ithout giving away the secret in to words that can be
safely uttered.71 T h ro u g h these displacements, in w hich, as Der-
146____________________
T h ro w in g U p A rch ite ctu re

rida puts it, “a certain foreign body is here w orking over our
household words,”72 the cryp t is secreted w ith in the visible space
o f the house.73
T his cryptic language can be decoded by “procedures that are
fa r from classical in psychoanalysis.”74As the crypt (de)constructs
its e lf in a way that displaces tra d itio n a l architectural th in kin g , its
analysis can n e ith e r sim ply enter n o r violendy fracture the crypt
to fin d its secret Rather, it involves a double play that patiently
locates the cracks through w hich the crypt is already leaking and
then forces entry. In this way, the analyst violates that w hich is
already violated, that w hich is actually “ buiU by violence.”75

To track down the path to the tom b, then to violate a sepulchre: that
is w hat the analysis o f a cryp tic in co rp o ra tio n is like. The idea o f
viola tio n [ viol] m ig h t im ply some kin d o f transgression o f a rig h t, the
forced e n try o f a penetrating, digging, force, b u t the violated sepulchre
itself was never “legal.” It is the very tom bstone o f the illic it, and marks
the spot o f an extrem e pleasure [jouissance], a pleasure e n tire ly real
though w alled up, buried alive in its own p ro h ib itio n .76

I t is in this sense that D e rrid a tacidy associates Abraham and


T orok’s w ork w ith his own. Deconstructive readings involve the
kin d o f strategic violence advocated by Heidegger when reading
Kant: “Certainly, in order to w ring from w hat the words say, what
it is that they want to say, every in terpretation must necessarily
use violence. Such violence, however, cannot be roving a rb itra ri­
ness.”77 The violence is n o t that o f an external force applied to
an innocent victim . O n the contrary, it is an exploitation o f the
covert violence o f the very tra d itio n it disturbs.78 The appearance
o f innocence is m aintained by an ongoing violence, a double
violence. The sanctity o f the domestic enclosure is m aintained
by the repression o f both these form s o f domestic violence. The
overdy forced e n try o f deconstructive readings rehearses the
violence o f both the regim e that polices dom estic space and its
ongoing subversion, what O f Grammatology describes as the covert
“forced e n try” o f the representations that secredy in filtra te and
constitute the dom ain o f presence that supposedly excludes
them , the “archetypal violence: eru p tio n o f the outside w ith in the
inside,”19 w hich the tra d itio n can mask b u t n o t eradicate w ith o u t
collapsing its own space. V io le n t transgression has always already
147______________
V io la tin g the C rypt

begun w ith in the very site privileged fo r its innocence.80 The


alien has always already im properly ‘Violated the in te rio r o f the
system.”81 The in te rio r is, in the end, b u t an effect o f this viola­
tion. Deconstructive discourse is therefore at once vio len t and
fa ith fu l, faithful in its very violence.
[V ]io le n tly inscribing w ith in the text th a t w hich attem pted to govern
it fro m w ithout, I try to respect as rigorously as possible the in te rn a l,
regulated play o f philosophem es by m aking them slide— w ith o u t mis­
treating them — to the p o in t o f th e ir non-pertinence, th e ir exhaustion,
th e ir closure. To “deconstruct” philosophy, thus, w ould be to th in k — in
the m ost fa ith fu l, in te rio r way— the structured genealogy o f philoso­
phy’s concepts, b u t at the same tim e to determ ine— fro m a certain
e xte rio r that is u n q ua lifiable o r unnam eable by philosophy—what this
h isto ry has been able to dissim ulate o r fo rb id , m aking its e lf in to a
histo ry by means o f th is somewhere m otivated repression. By means o f
this sim ultaneously fa ith fu l and v io le n t circu la tio n between the inside
and the outside o f philosophy— that is o f the West—-there is produced
a certain textual w ork th a t gives great pleasure.82

This gesture, whose very pleasure in te rru p ts and embarrasses, if


n o t disgusts, the philosophical tra d itio n , does n o t sim ply violate
spaces but traces the entangled violences o f those spaces and the
spacing embedded w ith in them , the economy o f violence in ­
scribed in to spaces th a t constitutes them as such. D e rrid a ’s read­
in g o f the crypt does n o t direct attention to some new kin d o f
architectural figure th a t m ig h t supplant the tra d itio n a l architec­
tura l rhetoric and could be appropriated by architectural dis­
course. Rather, it directs attention to the im p lic it violence o f
architecture by id e n tifyin g the subtle mechanisms w ith w hich a
space can conceal, the precise b u t elusive geom etry o f conceal­
m ent that produces the effect o f space by orchestrating a sus­
tained double violence.
6
D o in g the T w ist

The critica l architectural co nd ition o f the cryp t is that both the


illic it pleasure it buries and the b u ria l site are illegal. The crypt
hides the forbidden act w ith in the very space in which it is
forbidden. It breaks the law m erely by occupying that space, and
this violation must its e lf be concealed. To locate this spacing that
disrupts space and is its e lf hidden, D errida too m ust break the
law by ru p tu rin g the space in some way.
Violence is n o t sim ply addressed by deconstructive discourse,
b u t is enacted by it, though n o t in the sense o f an external force
exerted upon a preexisting space. The violence o f deconstructive
discourse, like th a t o f the tra d itio n , is already bound in to both
space and spacing. T he discourse engages w ith th e ir respective
and interrelated form s o f violence. A sense o f this engagement
can be gained here by even m ore slowly tracking the in te rm itte n t
traces o f a particular argum ent about the violence o f space em­
bedded w ithin D e rrid a ’s texts. It is only by somewhat m echani­
cally accum ulating these traces here, m u ltip lyin g them , o r rather,
showing the way in w hich they are already m u ltip lyin g themselves
in his w ritin g and overdeterm ining its overt trajectory, that the
architectural force o f deconstructive discourse can be fe lt
O ne way o f beginning such a reading is by follow ing a lin e o f
argum ent that can be found ru n n in g through the extended
chain o f essays in w hich D errida addresses the question o f law.
The question o f the law o f the house is, after all, that o f the status
o f law itself. The law is never m ore than dom estic.
150___________
D o in g the Tw ist

B u ild in g a Case against the Law

In “T itle (To Be S pecified),” a reading o f M aurice B lanchot’s


short story “La Folie du Jour,” D errida looks at the curious
architectonic role o f any title . The title appears to be a supple­
m entary label attached to a text, a supplem ent that can easily be
detached and d rift away fro m it (to a table o f contents o r the
cover o f a book o r a catalogue, and so on). The tide obviously
comes before the space o f the text to which it refers, divided
fro m that space by what seems to be a clear border. B ut even
though it is over the border, it can only perform its role by
entering the space, violating it in a way that produces the sense
o f the border in the firs t place— w hich is to say the sense o f the
in te rio r, the text’s d e fin itio n , its rule, its law. The title ’s transgres­
sive “spacing” actually produces the sense o f space it disrupts:
“No title w ith o u t spacing, o f course, and also w ith o u t the rig o r­
ous determ ination o f a topological code d e fin in g borderlines.” *
Space is b u t an effect o f spacing. N either inside n o r outside the
text, the title ’s spacing is “a violence, an ille gality w hich founds
the law and the rig h t o f its procedure”2 such that “it only makes
the law rig h t from a violence before the law.”3 The foundation
o f the law, that w hich comes before it and secures it, is the very
violence it legislates against. Security is made possible by that
w hich threatens i t The law is based on insecurity, and it is n o t
distin ct from the space it polices. Rather, it is the space, a topol­
ogy produced by systems o f lines th a t demarcate te rrito ry by
d ivid in g insides from outsides. As D errida puts it, “topology poses
the law.” M ore than sim ply d e fin in g o r m aintaining a space, the
law is a space, a kin d o f in te rio r, such th a t to break the law is to
be “outside” it, an outlaw. A nd i f the space o f the text is produced
by the spacing o f the title that ille gally violates it, it is the very
violence th a t effects the production. There is no space w ith out
violence. B ut this violence is hidden by the space it institutes,
buried w ith in the very sense that there is a space.
Any space, in tu rn , is a regim e o f overt violence, the always
vio le n t enforcem ent o f the law. There is no space w ith o u t police
action and no police action that is n o t the m aintenance o f a
space. D e rrid a ’s reading o f Benjam in’s “C ritique o f V iolence,” in
151_________________________
Building a Case against the Law

“Force o f Law: The ‘M ystical Foundation o f A u th o rity ’ ,” looks at


the relationship between this overt violence and the covert vio­
lence that founds the law it enforces, the relationship between
legal and illegal violence. Again, the law is understood, and
understood to understand itself, as a space. I t is an in stitu tio n
that makes decisions, draw ing lines when it “cuts” and “divides”
the terrain it m onitors. Any legal system is a spatial system, a
d e fin itio n o f space th a t contin ually redraws itself. Laws are end­
lessly reinscribed in , or, rather, as, space. D errida argues that the
in stitu tio n a l violence o f this space cannot be separated from the
violence that makes it possible in the firs t place. Legal violence
cannot be separated fro m illegal. The o rig in a ry violence is n o t a
singular historical act th a t puts the in s titu tio n in place and then
submits to the a u th o rity o f that in stitu tio n , w hich w ould im m e­
diately and forever attem pt to banish it. Unable to be evicted, it
can only be repressed. I t withdraws fro m the space, as d istin ct
from leaves, by secreting its e lf w ith in the very structure o f the
space and endlessly calls fo r its re p e titio n in the regim e that
represses it. Legal violence is produced by ille gal violence. The
regim e o f violently enforced legal decisions is b u t an unw itting
extension o f the vio le n t movements o f the undecidability that
occupies it, that about w hich a decision can never be made b u t
upon w hich all decisions depend. The overt violence o f space
remains indebted to the violence o f spacing that it cannot con­
tro l, even w hile it derives its authority fro m everywhere announc­
in g its ability to do so.
Deconstructive discourse reenacts ra th e r than sim ply addresses
this doubly violent scene, d irectin g its e lf against in stitu tio n a l
spaces in a way th a t those spaces cannot control, vio latin g them
according to a com plicated and unstable protocol, w hich does
n o t collapse a space b u t articulates the violence involved in its
construction. In “L ivin g O n: Border Lines,” fo r example, w hich
gives an extended reading o f the same story by Blanchot, the
“law o f the text” sustained by the suppression o f the violence that
p u t it in place “calls fo r a violence th a t matches it in intensity, a
violence d iffe re n t in in te n tio n , perhaps, b u t one that exerts itse lf
against the firs t law only in order to attem pt a com m itm ent, an
involvem ent, w ith th a t law. To move, yieldingly, towards it, to
152___________
Doing the Twist

draw close to it Actively. The vio le n t tru th o f ‘reading.’ ”4 Der­


rid a ’s concern is n o t the d e m olition o f the law but its construc­
tio n , the ruses by w hich it establishes authority and exercises its
force. To trace these com plications, he proceeds to read Blan-
chot’s text “w ith great violence,” focusing on the questions o f
spacing in i t W hich is to say, both the form s o f spacing w ith
w hich Blanchot underm ines the tra d itio n and those embedded
in his own text, m aking its own law, its own space, possible.
D errida traces the heterogeneous effects o f violence before the
law, effects that are always spatial.
T his oblique argum ent about spatial effects that is embedded
in D errida’s essays, w hich is, in the end, about the very effect o f
space, becomes clearer in “Before the Law,” his reading o f
Kafka’s story w ith the same tide. In the story, the law is even m ore
explicidy a space, lite ra lly an in te rio r accessible through a door,
and the “before” [devant] is again both spatial and tem poral, or,
m ore precisely, in D e rrid a’s reading, it is the spacing that comes
before the space o f the law. The “before” is like that o f the tide
positioned before the text: neith er inside n o r outside it (such
that Kafka’s tide reproduces what it describes). As D errida points
out, the space in the story turns o u t to be “empty.” The law
cannot be fo u n d beyond the door. I t is n o t sim ply “in ” the space
b u t is encrypted by its markers. The essence o f the law, w hich is
to say, o f the space, turns o u t to be its violation by spacing, a
vio latio n that is always hidden, “always cryp tic.” The door is
therefore “an in te rn a l boundary opening on n o th in g .”5 The
space it m arks is no m ore than the m aintenance o f this “secret.”
The o rig in o f the law is “safeguarded” by the space, n o t by being
hidden w ith in it but by being hidden by the space itself, w hich
is to say, by the representation o f a space. I t is the very idea that
there is an in te rio r that encloses the secret. The most secure
h id in g place is the representation o f in te rio r made possible by
an ongoing repression.
The way in which the representation o f space necessarily har­
bors a secret is elaborated fu rth e r w ith in the essay “Shibboleth,”
w hich pays attention to one o f the m arkers o f a te xt’s place in
space and tim e: the date. The date ostensibly positions the text,
n o t only in the place and tim e o f its o rig in , b u t also in the
153_________________________
B u ild in g a Case against the Law

in stitu tio n a l space o f a lite ra ry category (in the case o f the texts
by Celan being read, the category o f "poetry” ). The date is
" marked o ff” “detached,” fro m the space it marks and yet it makes
a “cut or incision” in th a t space, vio latin g its ostensible lim its.
T his violation is concealed. I t is necessary that the m arker “en­
crypt itself,” effacing its e lf precisely in order to mark. Defying
the logic o f tra d itio n a l space, there is no sim ple access to this
crypt, no passage thro ugh any door: “I f there is indeed a door,
it does not present its e lf in this way.” 6 B u t w hile there is no access
to the crypt, it is the crypt that provides access to the space o f
the text. O ccupation o f the space is made possible by that w hich
defies it. It is necessary to read this strange m ark, the m ark o f a
secret that does n o t appear “in ” the space, in order “to get over
the border o f a place o r the threshold o f a poem, to see oneself
granted asylum o r the legitim ate habitation o f a language.”7 The
space cannot be in habite d w ith o u t the spacing o f the crypt. To
in h a b it the space is to share its secret.
The sense that the in habita tion o f a space depends on the
maintenance o f a secret, the secret o f th a t w hich defies the space,
is always, at least, p o litica l. The politics o f space tu rn on that
w hich exceeds it. I f spaces are always in stitu tio n a l and institutions
always spatial, it is the m aintenance o f th e ir secret, the secret o f
the space’s constitutional violation, th a t is the basis o f th e ir
power. In D e rrid a’s essay, the m em bership o f an in s titu tio n that
gives access to its power requires knowledge o f the crypt. The
key to the space is a secret code shared by the members. A sim ilar
argum ent is made in “How to Avoid Speaking: Denials” when it
describes the “polito p o lo g y” in w hich the m aintenance o f a se­
cret produces at once a space and a com m unity w hich claims it
as its own. The visible sense o f place is bound to the concealed
place o f the secret. C ryptic figures are n o t sim ply exchanged by
the members o f th a t com m unity, b u t act as “p o litica l stratagems”
inasmuch as they establish “the solid b a rrie r o f a social division.”8
The solidity o f this socio-spatial division is a product o f the
spacings the figures conceal, the unspeakable com plications that
precede space. A nd this enigm atic produ ction o f space as p o liti­
cal space is not sim ply a unique co n d itio n described by the
particular texts o f negative theology th a t the essay is reading. I t
154___________
D o in g the Twist

goes on to locate precisely such “an irre d u cib le spacing in te rio r


to (b u t hence also exterior to, once the in te rio r is placed out­
side)” the ongoing tra d itio n o f philosophy inaugurated by Plato.9
This, in tu rn , recalls another o f D e rrid a’s lesser known essays,
“Scribble (W riting-P ow er),” w hich also addresses the role o f
crypts in the establishm ent o f p o litica l institutions. It does so in
reading W arbuton’s Essay on Hieroglyphs, w hich argues that the
o rig in a l fu n ctio n o f w ritin g as the transmission o f natural law,
the “com m unication o f laws and the order o f the city,” is “per­
verted” by another kin d o f w ritin g that vio len tly poses another
order, an unnatural structure that benefits an elite through the
operations o f a crypt that only they share. In this “cryptopolitics
o f w ritin g ,” as D errida describes it, w ritin g “becomes the in stru ­
m ent o f an abusive power.” 10 A cting in the name o f nature, that
w hich is supposedly “at hom e” w ith itself, b u t actually vio latin g
natural order, it becomes “like the e xte rio rity o f the alien, the
parasite: the necessity, at once natural and unnatural, o f the
cryp t.”11 The o fficia l law encrypts its own violence. It is the cryp t
th a t gives the in stitu tio n , w hich is to say the space constructed
by and as a p o litica l body o r corporation, a certain natural
authority. The in stitu tio n is able to assume power inasm uch the
cryp t enables it to represent its unnatural force as natural.12 I t is
precisely by defying space that the cryp t gives space its force, a
force that is always aligned w ith a certain systemic brutality.
This line o f argum ent about law that binds violence and space
in addressing the organization o f in stitu tio n s can be traced
thro ugho ut D e rrid a ’s w ritin g , b u t becomes most e xp licit when
he addresses the relatively recent in s titu tio n o f law its e lf as a
discipline, w hich he argues is sym ptom atically contem porary
w ith those o f lite rature, art, and the university. In ‘T itle (To Be
Specified),” the constitutional role o f the tide in relationship to
the space o f the text it appears to supplem ent is also understood
to be that o f lite ra tu re and the other arts in relationship to the
space o f the university that they supplem ent. T h e ir various spac-
ings “before” the law o f that space, w hich actually in stitu te that
law and, in so doing, that space, are then im m ediately subordi­
nated by that law and excluded fro m the space it makes possible
under names like “lite ra tu re ” and “a rt,” before being eventually
155_________________________
Building a Case against the Law

domesticated w ith in it by disciplines apparendy devoted to th e ir


study. These disciplines conceal rather than study the ruses o f
space on which they are “b u ilt.”13 D e rrid a notes the key role that
“lite ra ry and artistic form s in general” played in the production
o f the “structure” o f the university, w hich im m ediately claims to
be concerned o n ly w ith “higher” things. W hich is to say, the
constitutional role o f th e ir spacing in the production o f its space,
the originary and ongoing vio latio n o f the space that produces
the in stitutio n as such and then is effaced w ith in it, even, if n o t
especially, w ith in those recently adm itted departm ents ostensibly
dedicated to them.
To elaborate D e rrid a ’s argum ent, it can be argued that the
emergence o f these disciplines m arks the continuation o f the
attem pt to discipline th e ir respective form s o f spacing that began
w ith the assigning o f proper names. Such categories are already
mechanisms o f dom estication before they are used to m ark an
in stitu tio n a l space.14 The disciplina ry spaces are only a certain
repetitio n o f the conceptual space, a m onum ent to a domestica­
tio n achieved long before. To name som ething is always to locate
it w ith in a space. T he sense o f the proper name is that o f the
proper place. Names are always place names. By designating
som ething as “a rt” o r “law,” fo r exam ple, is already to resist its
subversive qualities and to make a place fo r it in a conceptual
scheme, m arking its site, d e lim itin g its dom ain. A nd this resis­
tance, which takes the fo rm o f systemic repression, doesn’t ju s t
make space available. Rather, it is what makes space in the firs t
place. There is no space w ith o u t resistance.
In D errida’s texts, these repressive in stitu tio n a l spaces are
again tacitly associated w ith the space o f a b u ild in g . I f “T itle (To
Be Specified)” speaks o f the “structure” o f the in stitu tio n , “ Living
O n: Border Lines” speaks o f the in s titu tio n “b u ilt o n ” the ju d ic ia l
fram ing o f the “law o f the text,” and “Force o f Law” speaks o f
the law as a “standing” that is “constructed” on the “ground”
through an o rig in a ry act o f “founda tion,” w hich establishes a
“structure” and “superstructure.” 15 A nd it must be noted yet
again that this a rchitectural rhetoric most e xp licitly surfaces in
D e rrid a ’s w ritin g when the question is most e xp licitly p o litica l
and m ore than ever when it is a question o f the politics o f
156___________
Doing the Twist

deconstruction itself. The essay “Force o f Law,” fo r example,


elaborates its argum ent to show that deconstructive discourse
only “apparently” fails to address politics, ethics, and justice,
asserting that it has n o t only addressed them from the beginning,
b u t has done n othing b u t address them , even though such an
address, if it is to be rigorous, m ust often be “oblique.” 16 Again,
it w ould seem that it is when the stakes are highest fo r decon­
structive discourse that architecture comes to the surface.
The repression o f the o rig in a ry violence o f spacing that em­
powers in stitu tio n a l violence must therefore be, in this sense,
architectural or, at least, bear upon the structure o r status o f
architecture. It does so by way o f the quasi figure o f the crypt.
In the erection o f law, the o rig in a ry violence is “buried, dissimu­
lated, repressed”17 only to re tu rn in a displaced form . Its buria l
takes the fo rm o f an incorporation. As D errida puts it at one
point, “carnivorous sacrifice” founds the law. Both the b u ria l and
the re tu rn are made possible by the strange anarchitecture o f
the crypt. T he in corporation o f the undecidables in to the struc­
ture, as the very possibility o f its law, suppresses them through a
“silence” that “is walled up in the vio len t structure o f the found­
ing act. W alled up, walled in ”18 in an act o f “forgetfulness.” The
structure does n o t sim ply fo rg e t It is a structure only inasmuch
as it forgets. S tructure is forg ettin g and the cryp t is n o th in g m ore
than the structure o f forgetting, the perverse structure o f struc­
ture. The forb idd en violence is hidden w ith in the walls them ­
selves that it makes possible, encrypted w ith in the sense o f space
its effacem ent produces. There is “n o th in g ” in the space beyond
that violence. O nly spacing is secreted in space, w hich is only to
repeat that the secret o f space is spacing.
Such a reading in no way calls in to question the capacity o f
in stitutio ns to define space and thereby in stitute regimes o f sup­
pressive and repressive violence. On the contrary, it id entifies the
inevitably vio le n t ruses o f space. Spaces cannot be cleansed o f
violence. Institu tio n s are n o t collapsed by dem onstrating that
th e ir architecture does n o t obey the very laws they enforce (and
a ll laws are, in the end, arguably architectural). O n the contrary,
architecture is seen to derive its force from the way its own
vio latio n o f the law is vio len tly concealed. A rchitecture is an
effect o f this concealment.
157____________________
The Deconstructive Dance

W hen deconstructive discourse deploys a strategic violence


against in stitu tio n a l spaces, it does so to trace the workings o f
the ongoing but h idden violence that makes those spaces and
th e ir overt violence possible. The violence o f deconstruction
sometimes appears to be that o f the law itse lf and other times
appears to be that o f an abuse o f the law. In each space it reads,
it passes from an extrem ely, if n o t obsessively, strict application
o f the particular in s titu tio n a l codes that define that space to what
seems to be a fla g ra n t disru p tio n o f those codes. B ut its own
force derives from problem atizing this distinction, dem onstrat­
ing that the most strict adherence to a law ends up vio latin g that
very law and vice versa. In these term s, the double violence o f
deconstructive discourse reproduces that w hich founds an
edifice. Such a discourse teases an architecture, e xp lo itin g all its
visible and hidden resources in a way that explores the strange
economy that makes it possible, the strange space o f architecture
itself, a space that is precisely n o t architectural.

T he D e co nstru ctive D ance

A lthough deconstructive discourse has read many heterogeneous


architectures in this way, they are always domestic. Each structure
masks its own structural violence in order to produce the effect
o f a space, an in te rio r governed by a legal system th a t has the
power to include o r exclude. Inasm uch as in stitu tio n s are always
“in te rio r spaces” 19 o f dom ination, as “Before the Law” puts it,
th e ir regimes o f violence are mechanisms o f dom estication. The
edifice is always a house, the law can only ever be the law o f the
house.
W hile D errida’s essays on law only once e xp licitly and m omen­
ta rily touch the question o f “the law o f oikos” that punctuates so
m uch o f the rest o f his w ork, th e ir analysis is critica lly m arked
by the effect o f th a t punctuation. The way they call the space o f
the law in to question transform s the sense o f domestic space. I t
is n o t ju st that each p a rticu la r space is made strange. Rather,
space itse lf becomes a strange effect. The encrypted spacing that
makes the in stitu tio n a l space o f the law possible also makes the
law “even m ore frig h te n in g and fantastic, unheim lich o r un­
canny.”20 A ll legal decisions, a ll d e fin itio n s o f space, become, like
158
Doing the Twist

the one made in Kafka’s story, “uncanny, unhdm lich .”21 Spatial
markers, like the date in “ Shibboleth,” fo r example, are uncanny
inasmuch as they install a covert spatiality “w ith in the hab itation”
o f the dom estic space they supposedly m ark. Such an installation
“takes on the strange, coincident, unheim lich dim ensions o f a
cryptic predestination” by m arking a “secret configuration o f
places”22 w ith in the visible space, the very space that o nly be­
comes visible as such because o f the covert operations o f the
m ark. In a thoroughly Heideggerian gesture, the fa m ilia r sense
o f a space becomes one o f “strangeness, estrangem ent in one’s
own hom e, n o t being at hom e, being called away from one’s
hom eland o r away from hom e in one’s hom eland.”23 In such
terms, deconstructive discourse at once traces and reenacts the
violence o f the hidden spacings that establish domestic space, or,
rather, establish space as domestic. Its gestures do n o t sim ply
id e n tify the strange things that uncannily occupy fa m ilia r spaces,
b u t the uncanniness o f space itself.
W hen reading Heidegger in “The Ends o f M an,” D e rrid a de­
scribes the “sim ultaneously fa ith fu l and vio le n t” double play o f
deconstruction, what he elsewhere calls its “violent fid e lity,”24 as
an oscillation between two gestures toward the house, one that
remains inside it and another that goes outside:

a. To attempt an exit and a deconstruction without changing terrain,


by repeating what is im plicit in the founding concepts and the original
problematic, by using against the edifice the instruments or stones
available in the house . . .
b. To decide to change terrain, in a continuous and irruptive fashion,
by brutally placing oneself outside, and by affirm ing an absolute break
and difference.25
E ith er gesture alone fails to disturb metaphysics. In the end, both
are form s o f “ in h a b itin g ” the house, the la tte r doing so “m ore
naively and m ore stricdy than ever.”26 To resist such in habita tion,
“a new w ritin g must weave and interlace these two m otifs o f
deconstruction” in a Nietzschean “dance, outside the house”
w hich is n o t the “outside” defined by philosophy since, as we
have seen, whatever philosophy places outside is still inside pre­
cisely because it is “placed,” enclosed by the house in the very
159____________________
The Deconstructive Dance

gesture o f being excluded from it. Deconstructive discourse seeks


an uninhabitable outside on the inside. As D e rrid a puts it in
“Dissem ination,” “ the absolute outside is n o t outside and cannot
be inhabited as such.”27 The dance th a t resists the logic o f in ­
habitation is a fo rm o f “a ffirm a tio n ” inasm uch it occupies the
house, running the risk o f consolidating its force, b u t w ith o u t
nostalgia fo r it and its associated “m yths” (fam ily, hom eland,
p rim a l language, proxim ity, and so on) as “D ifferance” argues:
“we must affirm , this, in the sense in w hich Nietzsche puts a ffir­
m ation in to play in a certain laughter and a certain step o f the
dance.”28 The dance displaces the house in its own terms. W hen
“Choreographies” addresses the insidious b u t pervasive logic o f
the oikos, o r “house arrest” [assignation a residence] w ith w hich
metaphysics institutes its e lf by d e fin in g the “place” fo r woman as
a place o f confinem ent, it is the dance, w ith its “m u ltip licitie s o f
rhythm and steps” th a t subverts this vio le n t logic o f placement:
‘T h e most innocent o f dances w ould thw art the assignation a
residence, escape those residences under surveillance.”29 The
dance disrupts the spatial regim e by locating som ething aspatial
w ith in i t
A sim ilar argum ent can be fo u n d embedded w ith in “Aphorism
C ountertim e.” Again, it is a question o f “rhythm ,” and the ongo­
in g b u t always unsuccessful attem pt o f the law to “arrest” its
movements by d e fin in g space w ith social conventions like “place-
names,” “property registers,” and “topographical m arks,” w hich
are “cast like nets over tim e and space.”30 These in stitu tio n a l
codes constitute a “m arked spacing,” a visible space whose spatial
logic attempts to resist the spacing o f rhythm by effacing it. B ut
in constituting its e lf to repress th a t unm arked spacing (which is
actually the spacing o f the m ark itself) the space is, in the end,
shaped by the very th in g that it is designed to conceal. The
spatial regime depends on the very “disjunction, dislocation,
separation o f places, deploym ent o r spacing o f a story”31 that it
blocks. Spacing is involved in the in stitu tio n o f the spaces that
conceal it. Spatial o rd e r (and order can only be spatial) is made
possible by a certain ongoing disorder. House arrest, the visible
use o f space as a m echanism o f subordination (w hich is perhaps
the only visible use o f space, the way in w hich space makes
160
Doing the Twist

objects visible, even producing the effect o f objects as such) is


made possible by forces it cannot arrest, resdess subterranean
movements that occasionally e ru p t sideways across its surface,
perfora ting any spatial division. In this sense, deconstructive
discourse is concerned w ith that w hich cannot be pinned down,
that w ith o u t a fixed place o r home, w hich is n o t quite yet to say
the homeless. It is not a question o f that which is w ith out a
house, but that evasion o f presence w ith in the very structure o f
the house that makes the house possible.
In these terms, the deconstructive dance is n o t a particular
kin d o f m ovem ent through an already constituted space, b u t is
itse lf a spacing that at once subverts and produces a space, one
that cannot simply be subjected to the logic o f the house that
depends upon it. Deconstructive discourse occupies an already
constituted space in ways that raise the question o f the space’s
constitution. It is in this sense that the discourse is always con­
cerned w ith institutions. I t does n o t take them apart o r critique
them , b u t endlessly rehearses the event o f in stitu tio n to reveal its
structural enigmas. The k in d o f Nietzschean dance D errida calls
fo r does n o t sim ply defeat house arrest. Rather, it affirm s its logic
b u t in the very terms th a t logic appears to resist. I t is therefore
n o t ju s t a question o f producing a new theory o f space, a new
way o f representing space as an alternative to the tra d itio n a l
po licin g o f space. A space is never independent o f the systems
o f representation that appear to m o n ito r it. House arrest is n o t
the p o licin g o f the space o f the house b u t the house its e lf as
police action or, m ore precisely, police action as housing. To
arrest, after all, is to domesticate by restrictin g movement, de fin ­
in g its lim its, drawing a line. The dance does m ore than twist
such lines. I t shows that they are already twisted and that this
tw isting cannot be regulated. No lin e can never be straightened
o u t Loopholes are the law.
The paradoxes o f this affirm ative dance can be found w ith in
D e rrid a’s early reading o f A rta u d ’s critiq u e o f tra d itio n a l theater.
A rtaud theorized the necessity o f what he called a “dance” in
order to subvert the classical space o f theater, w hich he saw as
subservient to the theological and metaphysical authority o f the
voice. In “The Theater o f C ruelty and the Closure o f Repre-
161
The Deconstructive Dance

sentation,” D errida argues that A rta u d ’s sense o f dance “inhabits


o r rather produces a nontheological space”32 through a new re­
gime o f movements whose spacing eludes the classical space: “an
experience w hich produces its own space. Spacing [espacement]y
that is to say, the produ ction o f a space that no speech could
condense or com prehend (since speech p rim a rily presupposes
this spacing).”33 T his transform ation, w hich A rtaud calls “a new
notio n o f space,” does n o t sim ply abandon the o ld space but
exploits its “undersides.” The new space, “opened by transgres­
sion” o f the old, constitutes an “irru p tiv e force Assuring the space
o f the stage.”34 A n d n o t only is the vio le n t force o f this dance
exerted w ithin and against the tra d itio n a l space, b u t it also par­
ticipates in the overt violence o f that space. The violence o f the
dance is already w ritte n in to the tra d itio n and can only be traced
through the very force that suppresses it and yet unw ittingly
depends on it. I t is only by enforcing the law ever m ore vigilandy
than the tra d itio n th a t claims to u p h old it that the space it
produces can be displaced.
This enigma, w hich is central to any th in k in g o f deconstruc­
tion, was explored in D e rrid a ’s even earlier essay “La Parole
Soufflee,” which argues that A rtaud’s “raising o f the repressed”
sense o f spacing is paradoxically achieved w ith an obsessive com­
m itm ent to in stitu tio n a l violence, the “tota litaria n codification
and rhetoric o f forces” o f a “cruelty” that establishes a space by
suppressing spacing: “this new theatrical arrangem ent sutures all
the gaps, a ll the openings, all the differences. T h e ir o rig in and
active movement—d iffe rin g , deferral— are enclosed,” thereby es­
tablishing “ the law o f the house, the in itia l organization o f a dwell­
in g space.”35 A rtaud reconstructs the house o f the tra d itio n even
m ore vigilantly than the tra d itio n its e lf and it is precisely in so
doing that he disturbs it. C iting Nietzsche on the need “to dance
w ith the pen,”36 D e rrid a argues that, in the end, A rta u d ’s “dance
o f cruelty”37 adm its in to this dom estic space what it at firs t ap­
pears to exclude: the parasitic alien, the ille gitim ate stranger that
is always the agent o f ru in . Echoing Heidegger, D errida argues
that A rtaud’s sim ultaneous com m itm ent to both metaphysics and
its subversion m arks “a necessary dependency o f a ll destructive
discourses: they m ust in h a b it the structures they dem olish, and
162___________
Doing the Twist

w ith in them they m ust shelter an indestructible desire fo r fu ll


presence.”38 I t is n o t a question o f sim ply occupying the house
as some kin d o f irrita n t that w ill always in the end be dom esti­
cated b u t o f reproducing the space, endlessly retracing its sup­
posed lim its to id e n tify the strange logic that produces the effect
o f lim its in the firs t place, m aking the very sense o f enclosure
uncanny. The deconstructive dance reconstitutes the dom estic
space it subverts, subverting it only by fa ith fu lly constituting it,
and in so doing, registering the irre d u cib le uncanniness o f
space.
To dance here, when talking o f deconstruction and architec­
ture, w ould be to look fo r w hat is buried in the space o f the
house that allows space to b u ry in the firs t place. The rhythm o f
this dance m ust be somehow b u ilt in to the structure o f the house
th a t locks things up m erely by placing them either inside o r
outside, by placing them , that is, “in ” space. This apparently
sim ple sense th a t things can be p u t “in ” space, w hich is to say
the sense th a t space is itse lf a kin d o f in te rio r, is no m ore than
the sense o f the house. The idea o f the house is n o t so m uch
th a t o f an in te rio r space b u t that o f space as in terio r, space as
th a t w hich can be inhabited. The rhythm o f the dance calls in to
question the house by in h a b itin g space in a way that frustrates
inhabitation.

H a u nte d H ouses

The p a rticu la r sense o f this fru stra tio n can be elaborated in


term s o f the way in w hich D e rrid a ’s essay “Desistence” at one
p o in t reads Lacoue-Labarthe’s sense o f “rhyth m ” as the spacing
th a t “haunts” the space o f the tra d itio n . This haunting is under­
stood as dom estic, an uncanny in te rn a l displacem ent o f the “law
o f the oikos.”39 D errida appreciates the way in which Lacoue-
Labarthe does n o t sim ply lo o k at the tra d itio n ’s attem pt to en­
force this law by po licin g the in te rio r o f the space and violently
excluding the other, b u t pays attention to the “dom esticity” o f
the other, the way in w hich the tra d itio n is “regularly visited,
haunted, inhabited by”40what it thinks it has excluded. Inasm uch
as the in stitu tio n a l spaces th a t are haunted by strange rhythm s
163___________
Haunted Houses

are always dom estic, D e rrid a seems to be tacitly describing insti­


tutions as haunted houses.
W hile the question o f haunting often comes up in his texts,
D e rrid a never talks about haunted houses. Indeed his most ex­
p lic it description o f ghosts involves tran sferring the alogic o f
haunting from its classical site in the house to the contem porary
technologies o f representation:

Contrary to what we m ight believe, the experience o f ghosts is not tied


to a bygone historical period, like the landscape o f Scottish manors,
etc., but on the contrary, is accentuated, accelerated by modern tech­
nologies like film , television, the telephone. These technologies in­
habit, as it were, a phantom structure. . . . When the very firs t
perception of an image is linked to a structure o f reproduction, then
we are dealing with the realm o f phantoms.41
B ut this transference also works in the other direction. The
house is itself, firs t and forem ost, a system o f representation.
Indeed, the tra d itio n a l sense o f the hau nting o f a house is pre­
cisely the sense th a t the house is n o t sim ply an object that may
be represented, b u t is its e lf a mechanism o f representation. Like­
wise, it can be argued that contem porary systems o f repre­
sentation can only be understood as haunted inasmuch as, like
the house, they are understood to be mechanisms that define
space. By d e fin itio n , only space can be haunted, and space is
understood as th a t w hich houses. A fte r all, the w ord “haunting”
is etym ologically bound to that o f “house.” H a unting is always
the haunting o f a house. A nd it is n o t ju s t that some houses are
haunted. A house is only a house inasm uch as it is haunted.
The sense o f hau n tin g that can be traced in so many o f Der­
rid a ’s texts, from the very firs t one on, cannot be separated from
the sense o f architecture they sustain, the architecture o f the
edifice as a tom b, and, specifically the house as tomb. I t is the
sense o f haunting th a t links the idea o f edifice to that o f tomb.
Indeed, it can be argued that this subterranean argum ent about
haunted houses, like the haunting it describes, structures the
spaces o f a ll the texts o f D errida w ith in w hich its traces can be
found.
W hen D errida’s firs t book, published in 1962, identifies the
way in which, fo r H usserl’s O rig in o f Geometry, the apparently
164___________
Doing the Twist

subordinate spatial marks o f w ritin g and drawing tu rn o u t to be


the very possibility o f the ideal objectivity they supposedly m erely
supplem ent and register, it does so in term s o f the way in w hich
a text can be “haunted,” “the entom bm ent o f lost intentions and
guarded secrets” and the “transcendental sense o f death” in ­
scribed in those spatial marks.42 T ru th is “no longer sim ply e xiled”
in this spatiality, but finds its “prim o rd ia l habitat” there. The
question o f architecture is already raised in this firs t text when
it follow s Husserl in asking w hether what is tru e o f w ritin g is also
“the same fo r the ideality o f the plastic arts, o f architecture?”43
And, m ore significandy, the text goes on to exam ine the com pli­
cations o f Husserl’s dom inant architectonic m etaphor o f level o r
stratum : “the image o f the concealed presence that an activity o f
excavation can always re-produce above ground as the founda­
tio n , that is its e lf grounded, o f higher stratifications. I t brings a ll
this together in the structural and in te rn a l u n ity o f a system, o f a
“region” in w hich all deposits, interrelated b u t distinct, are o rig i­
nally prescribed by an archi-tectonics T his architectural image
is crucial inasmuch as its rereading w ould form the basis o f
Heidegger’s sense o f “D estruktion ” and, therefore, in tu rn , Der­
rid a ’s sense o f “deconstruction.” In his firs t te xt’s sustained re­
w orking o f this image, a ll the m ain argum ents o f his later w ork
have already been p u t in place.
T his passage fro m the question o f haunting to that o f archi­
tecture is n o t coincidental, ju s t as it is n o t when D e rrid a’s de­
tailed discussion o f the way Paul De M an’s account o f allegory
uses the architectural m etaphor fo r deconstruction is im m edi­
ately follow ed by a description o f the rhetorical categories that
surround allegory as “ghostly figures” that produce a “ghost-
effect” inasmuch as they:
speak like phantoms in the text, certainly, but above all they phanto-
mize the text itself. It remains to be seen what the phantom means
or—this can have still other meanings—what the word “phantom,” the
“ word' phantom means. In a phantom-text, these distinctions, these
quotation marks, references, or citations become irremediably precari­
ous; they leave only traces, and we shall never define the trace or the
phantom without, ironically or allegorically, appealing from one to the
other.45
165___________
Haunted Houses

I f the phantom allegory that haunts D e rrid a ’s own text is archi­


tecture, it does so precisely as haunted architecture. M ore pre­
cisely, what haunts a ll o f his w ork is the sense o f a haunted house
that never simply appears as such, b u t whose phantom like traces
can be found th ro u g h o u t the space o f his texts.
These traces are even m arked in Cinders, the book in w hich
D errida rereads a ll his previous texts in order to trace the theme
o f ashes, to trace the trace o f the trace, that has repeatedly
m arked them w ith o u t ever becom ing th e ir ostensible subject. For
D errida, this them e is a ghost th a t haunts his texts: MFor nearly
ten years, this spector’s comings and goings, unforeseen visits o f
the ghost.”46 But m ore than this, the specter that haunts his texts
is its e lf a “ghost story,” a story m arked by architecture. A lthough
it does not appear to be about architecture, a p articular sense o f
architecture is p u t in place by a chain o f associations m obilized
by i t The ghost story is that o f a “fem inine phantom ” hidden
w ith in a “sheltered” place, a strange k in d o f shelter produced by
the mechanisms o f in corp oration that resist m ournin g by keep­
in g the other in the inaccessible reserve o f a crypt, a convoluted
anarchitecture produced as “the m onum ent o f an impossible
tom b,” a crypt th a t prevents the kin d o f m ournin g that shelters
by constructing a visible m onum ent, blocking “the slow decom­
position that shelters, locates, lodges” by establishing the “tom b
o f a tom b,”47 the tom b, that is, o f architecture. This ghost, “trem ­
b lin g deep w ith in the w ord,” seems to prevent any tra d itio n a l
build ing, any “erection that stands— o r falls.”48 D e rrid a ’s text
moves relentlessly, seemingly inevitably, toward the image, taken
from a story by V irg in ia W oolf, o f empowered women neith er
rebuilding the patriarchal university on an old plan n o r con­
structing an entirely d iffe re n t one but setting fire to the tradi­
tiona l architecture and dancing around it as it burns. The
cinders that haunt D e rrid a ’s texts tu rn o u t to be those o f a
building. More precisely, it is a house: “There are cinders only
insofar as there is the hearth, the fireplace, some fire o r place.
C inder as the house o f being.”49 The force o f D e rrid a’s text
comes from suggesting that the cinders are n o t sim ply produced
by the burning dow n o f a structure. The cinders are the possi­
b ility o f the house. I t is the fire that builds.50 The visible struc-
166___________
Doing the Twist

ture, like the structure o f D e rrid a’s own w ork, is made possible
by that w hich resists it, that w hich is only evident as an oblique
trace w ith in it, the trace o f its own disrup tion, i f n o t consump­
tio n , the elusive phantom “cam ouflaged” w ith in i t The dance
that deconstructs architecture, in terrogatin g the sense o f b u ild ­
in g and enclosure, m aking them trem ble in order to see what is
already trem bling w ith in them , w ith in and as th e ir very structure,
is at least doubly bound to the sense o f the haunted house.
This sense is only ever obliquely inscribed in to D e rrid a’s texts,
and it is precisely in this obliqueness that it attains its greatest, if
n o t brutal, force. It underw rites his essay “Ulysses Gram ophone:
Hear Say Yes in Joyce,” fo r example, in the fo rm o f a gradual
slippage that can be traced from the in itia l question o f in stitu ­
tio n , to that o f foundation, to fam ily, to dom estication, to domes­
tic in te rio rity, to place, to guests, to strangers, to parasites. A nd
each term in this chain is m ediated by the image o f an in s titu tio n
haunted by spacing such that, i f we violendy extract the terms
from th e ir context and crudely piece them together here: the
“domestic in te rio rity ” o f the “structure” o f the university in stitu ­
tio n is “haunted —joyously ventriloquized by a com pletely d iffe r­
ent m usic” o f “telephonic spacing,” w hich “acts like a parasite”
that in te rru p ts “the cycle o f reappropriation and dom estication”
w ith a “laughter” that “always betrays some kin d o f m o u rn in g .”51
T his ghostly laughter is the same Nietzschean laughter that
Bataille argues is the only th in g that resists being “dom esticated”
by H egel’s philosophical system, “ inserted in to a sphere, like ch il­
dren in a house,”52 as he puts it. It resists precisely by being a fo rm
o f a ffirm a tio n o f that house rather than an overt form o f subver­
sion. In his “From Restricted to General Economy: A Hegelian­
ism w ith o u t Reserve,” D e rrid a argues, as he d id o f A rtaud, that
Bataille displaces H egel’s w ork by a ffirm in g it, repeating it in a
way that disturbs its structure even w hile re b u ild in g it, gradually
and alm ost im perceptibly fo rcin g open, w ith each re petitio n, all
o f its jo in ts b u t never quite collapsing what they assemble.53 The
“laughter” th a t “bursts o u t” when the jo in ts are shaken open
fro m w ith in makes H egelian discourse “dislocate its e lf”54 rather
than be broken by some external force. By in h a b itin g the dis­
course, it is possible to e xp lo it “a certain strategic twist” that “w ith
167__________
Haunted Houses

a vio len t and sliding, fu rtive m ovem ent must in fle c t the o ld
corpus,”55 in te rfe rin g w ith its capacity to “assimilate” its other.
This twist resists the generic law o f the house by disrup ting the
repressive economy o f consum ption. I t is a dance step that ex­
poses the specter o f a certain indigestion in the structure, the
haunting o f the house by that w hich it always fails to consume
and which threatens to disorder, if n o t collapse, i t
Since the haunted house is, fo r Freud, “the most striking o f
a ll” “examples” o f the uncanny,56 it is unsurprising that the tacit
sense o f the haunted house produced by the anarchitecture o f
the crypt that can be fo u n d in D e rrid a ’s w ork is repeatedly linked
to the sense o f the uncanny. In “L iving O n: Border Lines” fo r
example, D errida describes the cryptic logic o f in corp oration as
the production o f an “exceedingly strange space”57 that enables
som ething to be “livin g o n ” [ survivre] as a “ghost.” In reading
Blanchot’s text, he is concerned w ith “the entire enigm a o f this
supplem entary logic. Survival and revenance [h a u n tin g ], livin g on
and retu rning fro m the dead,”58 reading n o t only what that text
says about ghosts b u t also the sense in w hich its own structure is
that o f haunting, that there are “only relationships o f cryptic
haunting from m ark to m ark.”59 Yet again, this sense o f the
strange topology by w hich visible space is haunted is bound to
the sense that the “law o f the oikos (house, room , tom b, c ry p t)”
is that o f “H eim lichke it/ U nheim lichkeit” 60
This bond between ghosts, in corp oration, and the uncanny is
even clearer in “Cartouches,” w hich again concerns a quasi-
architectural scene and describes the role o f haunting as struc­
tura l, as the possibility o f visible structure rather than som ething
that happens to it. In reading the design and construction o f a
m iniature coffin and a series o f drawings that appear to be based
on it by the a rtist G erard Titus-Camel, D errida describes the
“paradigm ,” or architectural m odel, “b u ilt like a crypt, so as je a l­
ously to keep its secret at the m om ent o f greatest e xh ib itio n ,”61
as itse lf a “ghost” : “Necessarily the dead takes his revenge. A nd
the paradigm returns, it gets its own back. The ‘m odel’ is always
the dream ed-of ghost [le revenant reve1. H a unting does n o t befall
it, but takes the firs t step.” 62 The te xt im m ediately goes on to
refer to the ghost story in Freud’s Das UnheimUche essay, o f which
168___________
Doing the Twist

he says “it w ould all need to be quoted,” but symptomatically,


given the always strange role that essay plays in D e rrid a ’s work,
he does n o t do. The text then explores all the com plications o f
such ghostly returns, passing again through the question o f fire ,
specifically, the fire o f the house— the hearth, the hearth o f the
fam ily, the crem atorium as the hearth o f such hearths—whose
unheim lich cond ition can only be m arked by the ashes in a fam ily
tom b, before declaring at the end that “above all h au n ting lays
down the law.” 63 As always, the law o f the house is made possible
by that w hich always occupies the house but cannot be dom esti­
cated by it.
The same gestures can be seen in D e rrid a ’s re th in kin g o f the
house in ‘T o Speculate— on Freud,” w hich describes the “law o f
the oikos, o f the proper as the dom estico-fam iliar and even, by
the same token, as we w ill verify, as the dom estico-funerary.” 64
E xploring in detail the endless “re tu rn to the house, to the
hom e” o f the dead in Freud’s th in kin g , the text argues that
“whatever becomes too fa m ilia r can always be suspected o f
jealously keeping a secret, o f standing guard over the unex­
pected.” 65 A t two key moments, Freud’s essay on the uncanny is
quickly invoked, but n o t read “again,” as i f it has been done so
in depth elsewhere: “Here, I cannot take up again what was set
in place elsewhere.” 66 Instead, yet another o f his passing, i f n o t
cryptic, references to the essay (in “The Double Session”) is
pointed to. Likewise, D e rrid a’s ‘Telepathy” makes a passing ref­
erence to the “essential” argum ent o f Freud’s Das Unheimliche
essay in another discussion o f ghosts and in corp oration revolving
around a patie nt o f Freud who is “haunted by her dream ‘as by
a ghost’ ” and the ghosts incorporated in psychoanalysis itse lf as
it attem pts to read such dreams.67 The essential argum ent is once
again invoked at a key m om ent but n o t pursued, although the
question o f the uncanny clearly underw rites the whole text.
D e rrid a ’s repeated hesitation around the uncanny parallels his
hesitation around architecture, which is likewise invoked at stra­
tegic points and n o t pursued although its effects can be every­
where traced in his texts. Indeed, the two gestures are related.
The uncanny is, in the end, no m ore than the sense that a house
is a house only inasmuch as it is haunted. I f architecture is
169___________
Haunted Houses

withdrawn from the m ost e xp licit surface o f D e rrid a ’s texts in


order to retu rn in a highly displaced fo rm as a key subtext that
organizes the very texts fro m w hich it has been withdrawn, it
returns, precisely, in the equally displaced theme o f haunting.
The architecture o f deconstruction is n o t only haunted. I t is also
that which haunts deconstruction, organizing its space w ithout
sim ply appearing w ith in i t I f haunting is what produces space
rather than sim ply occurs to it o r w ith in it, the sense o f haunted
architecture, o f architecture as that w hich is haunted, that itse lf
haunts deconstructive discourse actually produces the space o f
that discourse.
In laying down the law it appears to disturb, the uncanniness
o f haunting is the very possibility o f space and its politics.68
Consequently, the sense o f the haunted house is bound to that
o f violence. It is always a violence that haunts. The architecture
o f deconstruction is violent. W hen “Force o f Law,” in follow ing
Benjam in’s “C ritiq ue o f V iolence,” speaks o f the foun d in g vio­
lence repressed by an in stitu tio n , it is a “phantom violence.”
B uried alive, it becomes a “ghost” in the space that appears to
exclude i t The space is haunted by the “ghost o f undecidability,”
the illegal aspatial violence that institutes i t The law o f the house
is the “law o f the phantom ” whereby “the undecidable remains
caught, lodged, at least as a ghost— b u t an essential ghost— in
every decision, in every event o f decision. Its ghostliness decon­
structs from w ith in any assurance o f presence.” 69 The house, as
the very figure o f presence, is disrupted fro m w ith in by that
w hich it incorporates, th a t whose “survival” is made possible by
the com plex folds o f the crypt.70
It is not that the violence o f spacing sim ply haunts space like
a b ru ta l stranger. The haunting is its e lf the produ ct o f a double,
uncanny violence. The b u ria l o f the violence th a t founds any
in stitu tio n , which is n o t an isolated event b u t an ongoing action
that conserves the in s titu tio n , is its e lf necessarily violent. The
o fficia l violence th a t sustains the in s titu tio n can never detach
its e lf from what it buries. I t is “as i f one violence haunted the
o th e r”71 such th a t “w hat today bears witness in an even m ore
“spectral” (gespenstiche) way in m ixin g the two form s o f violence
(conserving and fo u n d in g ), is the m odern in s titu tio n o f the
170___________
Doing the Twist

police.”72 The police— and there is no in s titu tio n w ith o u t po­


lice— acts as a hinge between the two form s o f violence that
constitute any space. Even w hile m arking the overt violence o f a
space, police force also marks the covert violence that haunts it.
Deconstructive discourse does n o t sim ply oppose the force o f the
police, b u t attem pts to insert its e lf between these violences, trac­
ing the elaborate folds that knot them together and in so doing
rethinks space in a way that displaces the house.
In tracing the “absence o f a fro n tie r” between the form s o f
violence, such a discourse calls in to question the general effect
o f fro n tie r, w hich is to say, the effect o f space sustained by the
architecture o f the in stitu tio n . I t “ru in s” the fro n tie r by id entify­
ing a “disgusting am biguity,” an indigestible undecidability that
forever distorts the line. Again, this ru in in g o f institutions, w hich
its e lf involves a sustained violence, is affirm ative rather than
destructive: “O ne cannot love a m onum ent, a w ork o f architec­
ture, an in stitu tio n as such except in an experience itse lf precari­
ous in its fra g ility ” o f the structure’s “fra g ility.”73 Just as a
structure can only be radically threatened by being affirm ed, it
can only be appreciated inasmuch as it is weakened. B ut what
exactly is love here?74 Exactly what kin d o f relationship does
deconstructive discourse w ant w ith architecture?
The force o f deconstruction comes fro m its claim th a t an
in stitu tio n a l structure’s vulnerability, its A chilles’ heel, is the pos­
sib ility o f its very strength, th a t insecurity is the possibility o f
stability, that in stitu tio n a l violence is form idable precisely be­
cause it is unsecured. If, as D e rrid a argues, the violence enacted
in the name o f reason is never reasonable, it w ill n o t be disturbed
by any dem onstration that this is the case. I f the very possibility
o f the in s titu tio n is a sustained violation o f its own law, then no
sim ple appeal to the law could dislodge it. Legal recourse m ust
be replaced by a quasi-ethical in ju n ctio n , a call to some sense o f
responsibility. Such a call is repeatedly m arked in D errida’s texts
b u t usually neglected by his readers.
I t needs to be rem em bered that the sense o f ethics w ritte n in to
D e rrid a’s argum ent that deconstructive discourse violates that
w hich is already vio le n t is indebted to the w ritings o f Em m anuel
Levinas. As his early reading o f Levinas in “Violence and Meta-
171____________
Haunted Houses

physics” puts i f “acknowledging and practicing the violence


w ith in it. Violence against violence. Economy o f violence. . . . one
m ust combat lig h t w ith a certain o th e r lig h t, in order to avoid
the worst violence, the violence o f the n ig h t w hich precedes o r
represses discourse. This vigilance is a violence chosen as the least
violence.”75 The necessity o f this d o u bling o f violence is related
to the inevitable hau nting o f space. T his can be seen by looking
at the tacit argum ent about the haunted house in D e rrid a’s later
reading o f Levinas in “A t T his Very M om ent in Whose W ork I
A m ,” which opposes in h a b itin g to hau nting by lo okin g at the way
Levinas’s interventions vio len tly “tear” fa m ilia r language in a way
that locates another language, the language o f the other, w ith in
it that “doesn’t in h a b it it, b u t haunts it.”76 The fa m ilia r “is there,
b u t dislodged so as to leave room fo r (though n o t to establish
residence in ) ”77 the other, w hich produces the sense that “as i f
from now on we d id n ’t dw ell there any longer, and to te ll the
tru th , as i f we had never been at hom e.”78 W hen its walls are
forced to reveal w hat they hide, even, i f n o t especially, i f what
they hide is a certa in emptiness, the capacity o f the space to
house is frustrated and, furtherm ore , revealed to always be frus­
trated. A house never sim ply houses.
Again, this d isru p tio n o f the house’s image o f itse lf as secure
involves indigestion. T hrough Levinas’s vio le n t forcing o f the
fa m ilia r text, the house o f language “disassimilates”79 the other,
throw ing it up in to the space, m aking visible in the space that
w hich the space always attempts to conceal, the indigestible that
is norm ally throw n up in to an in te rn a l pocket in the lin in g o f
the walls. The h a u n tin g o f the space o f the house that can be
exposed by a v io le n t and yet vig ila n t reading is sustained by the
encrypting movements o f in corp oration.
The indigestible o th e r that haunts the space is n o t sim ply at
odds w ith the law th a t governs th a t space. O n the contrary, it is
its very possibility. There is no o ffic ia l te xt o r in stitu tio n a l prac­
tice that is not m arked by the fa in t traces o f the convoluted folds
that encrypt the indigestible. Equally, such traces can be found
w ith in those practices th a t appear to underm ine in stitu tio n a l
authority, no m atter how sophisticated o r effective they are. Der­
rid a goes on, fo r exam ple, to read Levinas’s own texts ‘V iolently”
172___________
Doing the Twist

to show what they themselves encrypt even w hile they break open
a num ber o f vaults. Specifically, he argues that they encrypt
fem inine mastery w ith in the house by m aking sexual alterity
secondary and thereby reproducing the fa m ilia r dom estic re­
gim e, the closed economy that is the law o f the house.
Because the relationship between the law and its subversion is
n o t a sim ple opposition b u t an entangled structural com plica­
tion, w hat is indigested by the space is, in the end, never sim ply
a subversive other. The law must its e lf be encrypted. The mastery
o f the fem inine, fo r example, must be situated in the house, as
its law, b u t in such a way that it is n o t subjected to that law: “ The
aneconom ical, that must n o t have been economized, situated in
the house, w ith in o r as the law o f the oikos” is nevertheless incor­
porated, encrypted w ith in it “retained, as other, w ith in the eco­
nom ic zone o f the same. Included in the same, it is by the same
stroke excluded: enclosed w ith in , foreclosed w ith in , foreclosed
w ith in the im m anence o f a crypt, incorporated.”80 In the always
strange logic o f the house, that w hich is domesticated as “other,”
o fficia lly labeled as such, is thereby adm itted in to the space w hile
that w hich is n o t other, the “same,” cannot be subjected to the
law, the force o f the space. O nly the o th e r can be adm itted in
o rd e r to be controlled. In the end, it is the law o f the house itse lf
that is n e ith e r inside n o r outside the space o f the house. W hat
is really indigestible is the law itself. W hich is to say that spacing,
in the end, is the law. The spatial logic o f the house is n o t in
its e lf spatial. N o inside is ever sim ply severed from an outside.
Space is but an elaborate effect o f the spacing that appears to
haunt it.
T his possibility had already been raised in passing by D e rrid a’s
earlier reading o f Levinas, when it parenthetically asks whether
the inside/outside p a ir that organizes a ll the operations o f meta­
physics is its e lf spatial: “the spatial pair inside-outside (b u t is this,
in a ll its aspects, a sp atia l pair?).”81 The tra d itio n a l opposition
that organizes a ll o th e r conceptual oppositions in the tra d itio n
o f philosophy is able to produce the effect o f space, the effect o f
in te rio r, only by repressing spacing. A n d inasmuch as space is
made possible by spacing, spacing must somehow be involved in
its own repression. The indigestible is n o t an object that is hid-
173__________
Haunted Houses

den at a certain m o m e n t Rather it is an ongoing double move­


m ent o f hiding. W hat is hidden is precisely that w hich cannot be
transform ed in to an object, the elusive phantom .
Such a sense o f the haunting o f space by spacing can also be
found in D e rrid a’s ‘T h e Deaths o f Roland Barthes,” an essay
devoted to the question o f m ourning. I t speaks o f the central
ro le that Barthes assigns to a certain supplem ent to the photo­
graph, the “punctum ” th a t violates the space o f the image ( “stu-
dium ”), the singular p o in t th a t “rends space” by pun cturing it
w ith o u t ever becom ing visible w ith in it: “I t belongs to it w ith o u t
belonging to it and is unlocatable in it; it never inscribes its e lf in
the homogenous objectivity o f the fram ed space b u t instead
inhabits, o r rather haunts it . ”82 A nd yet again, it is “rhythm ,”
w hich is to say, the tw isting dance o f spacing, th a t haunts: the
“supplem ent parasiting the haunted space o f the studium , the
punctum gives rhythm to the studium .”83 The space o f the photo­
graph is organized by that w hich enigm atically violates it. The
external violence o f the photographic fram e that defines the
space in isolating the image depends on this in te rn a l violence.
Like the crypt, the punctum occupies the space b u t cannot be
placed w ith in it. I t is a p o in t, that w hich takes up no space, that
w hich has no space, an unlocatable nonplace that exceeds the
fram e it occupies.
This constitutional haunting o f space by spacing is n o t ju s t
understood as a prope rty o f photographs o r th e ir analysis by
particular “conceptual oppositions” th a t define certain logics o f
reading. Rather, “it traces a relationship o f haunting w hich per­
haps is constitutive o f a ll logics.”84 I t is the hau nting o f a space
th a t organizes the conceptual structure o f the in stitu tio n a l codes
o f reading (and in stitu tio n s are never m ore than codes fo r read­
ing, culturally enfranchised systems o f representation) that are
applied to that space b u t cannot recognize its phantom s. If, as
D errida argues elsewhere, a ll the b inary oppositions that struc­
ture the Western tra d itio n are organized by the spatial opposi­
tio n between inside and outside, or, rather, the opposition
ostensibly concerned w ith space, they are, in the end, organized
by the haunting th a t produces this effect o f space in the firs t
place. Inasmuch as deconstructive discourse is always a “reading”
174___________
Doing the Twist

o f in stitu tio n a l space, it m ust disturb the institutions o f reading


sustained by, and in the end, indistinguishable from , that space.
To raise the question o f deconstruction and architecture is
therefore n o t only a m atter o f id e n tifyin g a certain reading o f
space as a key subtext w ith in D errida’s readings, it is also a
question o f the spatiality o f reading. In particular, it is a question
o f the p o in t at which the two are conflated, the p o in t at w hich
D e rrid a ’s reading o f space addresses the space o f reading.

The Subject o f Vom it

Such an intersection can be found in Glas, w hich is everywhere


concerned w ith the intersection between the house and m ourn­
ing, hence its ongoing subtext o f houses and burial, the oikos as
tom b, the dom estic economy as an economy o f death governed
by haunting. Follow ing the psychoanalytic account o f m ournin g
as eating, it reads the question o f digestion in Hegel and Genet
in a convoluted and elaborately spaced-out text that passes
thro ugh “the w ork o f m ourning, anthropophagy, cannibalism , a ll
the processes o f in corp oration and in tro je c tio n ”85 in th e ir w ork
to focus on “the strange word (and mode) disgust [ecoeurement]”86
and the elusive cryp t that configures it. D e rrid a ’s concern is w ith
the space, or, rather, spacing, o f indigestion. As he points out
in the interview “Ja, ou le faux-bond,” Glas asks o f m u ltip le in sti­
tu tio n a l structures the question: “out o f what exclusion is it
constructed? W hat does it desire to vomit? . . . The neither-
swallowed-nor-rejected, that w hich rem ains stuck in the th ro a t
as other.”87 W hich is to say that the text is concerned w ith
the enigm atic spacing o f the crypt. B ut the cryp t is n o t sim ply
the subject o f that text, it is also its effect, or, at least, desired
effect:
When I say that Glas is also working on the “reading effect,” what I
mean in particular is that it has as one of its principal themes reception
(assimilation, digestion, absorption, introjection, incorporation) or non­
reception (exclusion, foreclosure, rejection and once again, but this
time as internal expulsion, incorporation), thus the theme o f internal or
external vomiting, of mourning-work and everything that gets around
to or comes down to throwing up. But Glas does not only treat these
themes; in a certain way, it offers itself up to all these operations.88
175______________
The Subject o f Vomit

The text opens its e lf to the convoluted operations o f the crypt


by opening its space to the effects o f spacing. I t engages w ith the
cryptic logic, or, rather, subversion o f logic, through its own
spacing, reproducing the operations it describes. D errida refers
to the “reading e ffe ct” o f his w ritin g in spatial terms, identifying
it w ith the spacing o f rhythm : “one w ould have to add o r rather
id e n tify the question o f the ‘rh yth m ,’ the rhythm ed delays, etc.”89
I t is only through the m u ltip le and heterogeneous interactions
between this spacing o f the text and its concern w ith spacing that
the question o f the cry p t can be raised.
A reference to these interactions can be found early on in Glas
where a small and, at firs t glance, surprisingly autobiographical
fragm ent on the o u te r edge o f one page describes the text as
“the interm inable analysis o f vom it, o f a nausea [ecoeurement]
rather, by which I am affected and w hich causes me to w rite .” 90
D e rrid a is not sim ply contrasting the in s titu tio n ’s need to en­
cryp t what it desires to vom it and his own desire to resist the
in stitu tio n by throw ing it up. The p o in t here is precisely that his
desire, w hich is to say his nausea o r disgust, is no d iffe re n t fro m
that o f the in stitutio ns that constitute themselves by veiling that
desire and its object. Furtherm ore, he is n o t sim ply speaking o f
his “own” desire here, that w hich supposedly belongs only to him
as an individual subject, b u t rather the desire th a t structures the
subject as such. I t is n o t a question o f his choice to w rite about
the spacing that the in s titu tio n represses, b u t the sense in w hich
the in stitu tio n is th a t w hich represses w ritin g understood as a
certain spacing. Spacing is the possibility o f both the in stitu tio n
and the subject; the subject being, in the end, w hich is really to
say, fro m the beginning, an in s titu tio n .91
The indigestion in stitu tio n s experience in the face o f spacing
is n o t something they can choose to address o r repress. Indiges­
tio n is th e ir structural condition. The subject, fo r exam ple, does
n o t sim ply experience indigestion. I t is never anything m ore than
indigestion, as can be seen in the interview “ ‘Eating W ell,’ o r the
C alculation o f the Subject,” w hich speaks o f digestive movements
(assim ilation, ingestion, in corp oration, in tro je ctio n , eating as an
in te rio riza tio n that effects an id e n tifica tio n , and so on) as con­
d itions that produce the subject, ra th e r than being its actions.92
In D e rrid a’s use o f Abraham and T orok’s argum ents, incorpora-
176___________
Doing the Twist

tio n becomes the possibility o f the subject rather than one o f its
contingent pathologies. The subject is constructed as such by the
spacing o f the crypt. Its therefore n o t ju s t that the cryp t is the
desired effect o f D e rrid a’s texts or even that the cryp t is always
an effect o f desire. M ore than the m aintenance o f a forb idd en
desire, the crypt is the very figure o f desire. Desire is by d e fin i­
tio n cryptic. I t is never straightforw ard. I t ’s a ll in the detour.
The question o f deconstruction and architecture must there­
fore involve a re th in kin g o f the subject The subject is n o t ju s t
housed w ith in space o r detached fro m it as a kin d o f reader o f
the space, b u t is produced by that w hich violates space and is
concealed to produce the effect o f space in the firs t place. The
subject is n e ith e r vio len tly co n tro lle d by space n o r exercises
co n tro l over it. I t is the concealm ent o f spacing in the name o f
space, w hich is to say the image o f space, that makes the idea o f
a subject detached from space possible. The logic o f the subject
is bound to a certain representation th a t cannot be separated
fro m architecture and is sustained by an array o f disciplinary
structures th a t need to be interrogated.
Inasm uch as the tra d itio n a l idea th a t the subject takes place is
the idea that it can take a place, the possibility o f the subject is
the possibility o f place. To re th in k the subject m ust be to in te r­
rogate the idea o f place. In “Eating W ell,” fo r example, D errida
argues th a t the cryptic indigestion o f in corp oration defines the
“place” o f the subject as a “non-place”: “In the text o r in w ritin g,
such as I have trie d to analyze them at least, there is, I w ouldn’t
say a place (and this is a whole question, this topology o f a
certain locatable non-place, at once necessary and undiscover-
able) b u t an instance.”93 Likewise, “Ja, ou le faux-bond” speaks
o f a “non-place” when it addresses the question “W here does a
“reading effect” take place, i f it takes place?” 94 In both cases, the
tw isting o f space by spacing unravels place. This unraveling is n o t
lim ite d to the specific question o f the subject. Inasm uch as Der­
rid a ’s w ork is, from the beginning, as is being argued here, a
disru p tio n o f the architecture o f the house, it is everywhere
concerned w ith the question o f place, exploring the c ritica l slip­
page between having a place, m aking a place, taking a place and
taking place. In the end, the elusive architecture o f deconstruc­
tio n is produced in its engagement w ith place.
7
D islo ca tin g Space

The irrepressible hau nting o f space, the spectral economy o f the


haunted house th a t underpins D e rrid a ’s w ork w ith o u t ever being
its apparent subject, is firs t and forem ost the enigm atic move­
ments o f displacem ent o r dislocation. D errida e xp licitly iden­
tifies the tra d itio n o f metaphysics that sustains itse lf by sustaining
a certain image o f space w ith the constitution o f place. W hen
speaking o f the deconstructive dance th a t disrupts the house by
subverting the lo gic o f house arrest th a t domesticates by trans­
fo rm in g movements in to objects and assigning them places,
“Choreographies” asserts: “the dance changes place and above
a ll changes places. In its wake they can no longer be recognized.”1
The dance’s tw isting o f space is at once a subversion o f both
particular places and the in stitu tio n a l logic o f place, w hich is to
say, the logic o f the in stitu tio n s that orchestrate them . A dance
step is only a step “on the cond ition th a t it challenge a certain
idea o f the locus [lie u ] and the place [place] (the entire history
o f the West and o f its m etaphysics).”2 Furtherm ore, inasmuch as
the dance traces an e xte rio r hidden inside the house, som ething
foreign to the space, fore ign to space its e lf and yet uncannily
p a rt o f its very constitution , the dance does n o t sim ply take place.
To dance is to displace the house and the whole regim e o f
placem ent based upon it. Dance is that w hich displaces place.
D errida’s essays are everywhere concerned w ith this question
o f place, or, rather, as he once p u t it, “the question o f the enigma
o f place.”3 There is no essay that doesn’t at some p o in t raise it,
176___________
Doing the Twist

tio n becomes the possibility o f the subject rather than one o f its
contingent pathologies. The subject is constructed as such by the
spacing o f the crypt. Its therefore n o t ju s t that the cryp t is the
desired effect o f D e rrid a’s texts or even that the cryp t is always
an effect o f desire. M ore than the m aintenance o f a forb idd en
desire, the crypt is the very figure o f desire. Desire is by d e fin i­
tio n cryptic. I t is never straightforw ard. I t ’s a ll in the detour.
The question o f deconstruction and architecture must there­
fore involve a re th in kin g o f the subject The subject is n o t ju s t
housed w ith in space o r detached fro m it as a kin d o f reader o f
the space, b u t is produced by that w hich violates space and is
concealed to produce the effect o f space in the firs t place. The
subject is n e ith e r vio len tly co n tro lle d by space n o r exercises
co n tro l over it. I t is the concealm ent o f spacing in the name o f
space, w hich is to say the image o f space, that makes the idea o f
a subject detached from space possible. The logic o f the subject
is bound to a certain representation th a t cannot be separated
fro m architecture and is sustained by an array o f disciplinary
structures th a t need to be interrogated.
Inasm uch as the tra d itio n a l idea th a t the subject takes place is
the idea that it can take a place, the possibility o f the subject is
the possibility o f place. To re th in k the subject m ust be to in te r­
rogate the idea o f place. In “Eating W ell,” fo r example, D errida
argues th a t the cryptic indigestion o f in corp oration defines the
“place” o f the subject as a “non-place”: “In the text o r in w ritin g,
such as I have trie d to analyze them at least, there is, I w ouldn’t
say a place (and this is a whole question, this topology o f a
certain locatable non-place, at once necessary and undiscover-
able) b u t an instance.”93 Likewise, “Ja, ou le faux-bond” speaks
o f a “non-place” when it addresses the question “W here does a
“reading effect” take place, i f it takes place?” 94 In both cases, the
tw isting o f space by spacing unravels place. This unraveling is n o t
lim ite d to the specific question o f the subject. Inasm uch as Der­
rid a ’s w ork is, from the beginning, as is being argued here, a
disru p tio n o f the architecture o f the house, it is everywhere
concerned w ith the question o f place, exploring the c ritica l slip­
page between having a place, m aking a place, taking a place and
taking place. In the end, the elusive architecture o f deconstruc­
tio n is produced in its engagement w ith place.
7
D islo ca tin g Space

The irrepressible hau nting o f space, the spectral economy o f the


haunted house th a t underpins D e rrid a ’s w ork w ith o u t ever being
its apparent subject, is firs t and forem ost the enigm atic move­
ments o f displacem ent o r dislocation. D errida e xp licitly iden­
tifies the tra d itio n o f metaphysics that sustains itse lf by sustaining
a certain image o f space w ith the constitution o f place. W hen
speaking o f the deconstructive dance th a t disrupts the house by
subverting the lo gic o f house arrest th a t domesticates by trans­
fo rm in g movements in to objects and assigning them places,
“Choreographies” asserts: “the dance changes place and above
a ll changes places. In its wake they can no longer be recognized.”1
The dance’s tw isting o f space is at once a subversion o f both
particular places and the in stitu tio n a l logic o f place, w hich is to
say, the logic o f the in stitu tio n s that orchestrate them . A dance
step is only a step “on the cond ition th a t it challenge a certain
idea o f the locus [lie u ] and the place [place] (the entire history
o f the West and o f its m etaphysics).”2 Furtherm ore, inasmuch as
the dance traces an e xte rio r hidden inside the house, som ething
foreign to the space, fore ign to space its e lf and yet uncannily
p a rt o f its very constitution , the dance does n o t sim ply take place.
To dance is to displace the house and the whole regim e o f
placem ent based upon it. Dance is that w hich displaces place.
D errida’s essays are everywhere concerned w ith this question
o f place, or, rather, as he once p u t it, “the question o f the enigma
o f place.”3 There is no essay that doesn’t at some p o in t raise it,
178____________
Dislocating Space

alm ost always lite ra lly as a question. In fact, it is usually two


questions. O f each o f his texts’ ostensible subjects, D errida asks:
“where does it take place?” and “does it take place?” In a sense,
deconstructive discourse can be understood as a protracted yet
always incom plete response to these in terrela ted questions.4 Yet
this alm ost never becomes the e xp licit focus o f D errida’s w ritin g
and has received almost no commentary. The question o f place
is always worked through in d ire ctly even if, in every case, the
in te rm itte n t responses to it usually act as signals that critica lly
redirect each te xt’s lin e o f argum ent. I t is arguably this insistent
indirectness th a t both gives the question such force in D e rrid a ’s
w ork and also marks the p o in t o f its greatest vulnerability. His
re th in kin g o f place has to be follow ed in some detail here,
especially because it involves a re th in kin g o f architecture, even
if it is n o t e xp licitly presented in architectural term s or, rather,
especially i f it is not; one o f the firs t im plications we have to draw
fro m D e rrid a ’s argum ent about the crypt is th a t it is like ly to be
a certain w ithdraw al o f architecture from the e xp licit surface o f
his own w ork th a t marks the p o in t o f its greatest dependence on
a th in k in g o f architecture, a dependence th a t only manifests
its e lf as such in oblique and seemingly isolated moments in his
discourse.

H o u se h o ld Pests

I f the m ost force ful architecture is that w hich cannot be seen but
returns to haunt the visible space in w hich it is buried, it actually
leaves most traces in D e rrid a’s sporadic references to haunting.
I t is n o t so m uch that his w ork is sim ply haunted by an architec­
ture as it is th a t his sense o f haunting involves, and is, perhaps,
no m ore than a displacem ent o f architecture. This displacem ent
does n o t m anifest its e lf so m uch in his repeated and e xp licit
questioning o f the tra d itio n a l logic o f spatial “position” (w hich,
fo llo w in g Heidegger, is always understood as a discursive con­
structio n sustained by the m ille n n ia l tra d itio n o f metaphysics5),
as it does in his m ore elusive th in kin g around the question o f
place. I t is m arked there by the in te rm itte n t “fig u re ” o f haunting,
a slippery fig u re that involves a re th in kin g o f the house. The
179__________
Household Pests

re th in kin g o f place, like that o f space, presupposes a re th in kin g


o f house.
The invisible anarchitecture o f the cryp t is always bound to a
visible architecture. As D errida puts it, there is “no cryp t w ith o u t
edification ,” 6 no secret w ith o u t the defensive erection o f a dis­
sim ulating “edifice” th a t veils its convoluted folds to produce the
image o f a unified structure, no invisible other w ith o u t a b u ild in g
that renders space visible and defines place. Furtherm ore, there
is no architecture w ith o u t crypt. Every apparently stable b u ild in g
presupposes such a concealed and unstable spacing that is itse lf
a mechanism o f concealm ent, a strange mechanism that sustains
a haunting that com plicates space by disru p tin g place. The crypt
is a “pocket” folded in to space, a “no-place o r non-place w ith in
space, a place as no-place”7 that enables a “ghost” to “haunt [the
subject] w ith a ll kinds o f ventriloquism ,”8 com plicating the visible
architecture o f the space by staging a “haunting re tu rn o r un-
heim lich hom ecom ing.” 9 The re th in kin g o f the house m arked by
the subtext o f the uncanny that punctuates so m uch o f D errida’s
w ritin g is bound in to the them e o f cryp t and turns on the sense
o f place, which is to say that his extended questioning o f place
harbors w ith in it a questioning o f architecture.
One o f the points in D e rrid a’s w ritin g where the question o f
architecture begins to emerge in the discussion o f place, only to
be sym ptomatically w ithdraw n, can be fo u n d in the essay “lim ­
ited Inc. a b c .. .” Repeatedly addressing the cryptic operations
o f incorporation and, having described undecidability as “calling
in to question the e n tire tra d itio n a l philosophy o f the oikos”10
(understood as the dom esticity o f a legal system that acts as an
ethico-political regim e sustained by d iffe re n t kinds o f in stitu tio n ­
alized violence), the te xt identifies the sim ultaneously construc­
tive and subversive ro le o f parasites in the house. The logic o f
incorporation turns o u t to be that o f the parasite, the foreigner
occupying the dom estic in te rio r and unable to be expelled from
it, by being throw n u p and out, w ith o u t ru in in g the space. This
hidden logic o f the dom estic is again tacidy understood as a
haunting o f the house. The uncanniness o f the parasite is that it
“is never simply alien to and separable from the body to w hich it
has been transplanted o r w hich it already haunts [h a n te \."u The
180____________
D islocating Space

space is haunted by that w hich exceeds it: the para-site, that


w hich is supplem entary (para) to the site. The house, as the
paradigm o f place, is haunted by that w hich disrupts place but
cannot be expelled from it. The parasite’s uncanny quasi occu­
pation o f the house is seen to displace its law by disturbing the
logic o f place:

It should also be rem em bered th a t the parasite is by d e fin itio n never


sim ply external, never sim ply som ething th a t can be excluded fro m o r
kept outside o f the body “proper,” shut o u t fro m the “fa m ilia l” table o r
house. Parasitism takes place when the parasite (called thus by the
owner, jealously defending his own, his oikos) comes to live o ff the life o f
the body in w hich it resides— and when, reciprocally, the host inco rp o ­
rates the parasite to an extent, w illy n illy o ffe rin g it hospitality: provid­
ing it w ith a place. The parasite then “takes place.” A nd, at bottom ,
whatever violendy “takes place” o r occupies a site is always something o f
a parasite. Never quite taking place is thus p a rt o f its perform ance, o f its
success as an event, o f its taking place.12

This sense o f the structural haunting o f the house by the para­


site, w hich at once installs and subverts the logic o f place, is n o t
ju s t one analysis in D e rrid a’s w ork alongside so many others. He
goes on to argue that his w ork is “everywhere” concerned w ith
it: ‘T h e parasitic structure is what I have trie d to analyze every­
where, under the names o f w ritin g , mark, step [m arche], m argin,
differance, graft, undecidable, supplem ent, pharm akon, hymen,
parergon , etc.”13 To which we could add: the fetish, khairein, sig­
nature, title , poem, pu rlo in e d letter, date, castration, shoe, cir­
cum cision, m etaphor, translation, preface, and so on. W hile
D errida m ultiplie s his term s to avoid tu rn in g any one o f them
in to the basis o f a new law, destabilizing them to avoid the
illu so ry coherence o f a conceptual system, he nevertheless reads
them a ll in term s o f the parasite, understood as a specific form
o f quasi occupation o f the house. O f each he asks: “where does
it take place?” and “does it takes place?” 14 A nd in each case, the
respective reading at some p o in t notes, and arguably turns on
this point, th a t the undecidable in question has no legitim ate
place w ith in the system it occupies. Each is understood as an
ille gal alien transgressing a house. To place is to house, w hether
inside o r in the outside that is always, in the end, an inside. The
181___________
Household Pests

parasite is that w hich is n e ith e r inside n o r outside a house, that


w hich is beyond, and yet essential to, the space. Every house has
its parasites. Like an expert on household pests, each o f Der­
rid a ’s essays id entifies the p a rticu la r species em bedded w ith in a
heterogeneous range o f houses and demonstrates that each
w ould collapse if its u ninvited guests were exterm inated, which,
o f course, they cannot be since they never sim ply occupy the
space b u t elusively ha u n t it.
Each o f the supplem ents D errida interrogates tu rn out to have
no proper place.15 A n d yet a place is always fo rcib ly assigned to
them by specific in s titu tio n a l practices th a t attem pt to contain
them . D errida tracks the way in w hich supplem ents elude the
spatial regimes th a t attem pt to domesticate them , even, i f n o t
especially, i f that atte m pt involves assigning them the place o f
that which is w ith o u t place. In “Le facteur de la verite,” fo r
example, he shows how the m issing le tte r in Poe’s story eludes
Lacan’s sustained attem pt to re tu rn it to “a proper place . . . a
determ inable place th a t is always the same and th a t is its own,” 16
even when that place is id e n tifie d as the place where som ething
is missing, a gap around w hich a psychic econom y is organized.
“By determ ining the place o f the lack, the topos o f that w hich is
lacking from its place, and in constituting it as a fixed center,”
before organizing the psychoanalytic “ topology” around that
place, Lacan is seen to be re tu rn in g the letter, along w ith a ll the
other seemingly placeless fetishistic substitutes, “back in to th e ir
oikos, th e ir fa m ilia r dw elling, th e ir prope r place.” 17 In so doing,
he locates the spatial o rd e r m aintained by psychoanalytic theory,
the tru th o f the psyche sought by th a t theory, w ith in the fictio n a l
space o f Poe’s story, a tru th seen to in h a b it that space “as the
master o f the house, as the law o f the house.”18 The homeless
le tte r becomes the law o f the hom e. But, in being m onum ental­
ized in this way, it is given a home. Lacan’s psychoanalysis con­
solidates rather than displaces the house. In the very gesture o f
analyzing that w hich has no place and moves uncontrollably
through “ a ll the places,” Lacan domesticates it and restores the
tra d itio n a l sense o f space, covering over the “ Unheim lichheit”19 o f
Poe’s story to produce a stable conceptual system w ith in which,
symptomatically fo r D errida, “the problem atic o f [Freud’s] Das
182____________
D islocating Space

Unheimliche does n o t intervene.”20 A ll o f the uncanny movements


that produce anxiety fo r the theorist by d isrup ting the space are
repressed.21 Nevertheless, they re tu rn to in te rru p t the very the­
o ry that is in stitu te d to repress them.
The labor o f deconstructive discourse is to trace the way in
w hich the unspeakable parasite eludes the in stitutionalized at­
tempts to co n tro l it, re tu rn in g to uncannily haunt the domestic
space that appears to repress it. B ut it m ust be emphasized that
this re tu rn , and the way it is traced by deconstructive discourse,
does n o t produce a crisis fo r the house. The uncanny is only
threatening to the in stitu tio n , in fact it is only uncanny, inasmuch
as it cannot be treated as a crisis, the sense o f crisis being
precisely, as D e rrid a ’s “Economies de la crise” argues, never m ore
than an in stitu tio n a l resistance to a m ore radical threat to the
in te g rity o f the domestic space:

The concept o f crisis w ould be the signature o f a last symptom, the


convulsive e ffo rt to save a “w o rld ” that we no longer inh a b it: no m ore
oikos, economy, ecology, livable site in w hich we are “at hom e”. . . .“The
“representation” o f crisis and the rhe to ric it organizes always have at
least this purpose: to determ ine, in o rder to lim it it, a m ore serious and
m ore form less threat, one w hich is in fact faceless and norm less. A
m onstrous threat b u t that holds some desire in suspense: a th re a t to
desire. By determ in in g it as crisis, one tames it, domesticates it, neu­
tralizes it— in short, one economizes it. One appropriates the T h in g , the
u nthinka ble becomes the unknow n to be know n, one begins to give it
fo rm , to in fo rm , master, calculate, program .22

T ha t w hich is threatening is that w hich cannot be localized, that


w hich cannot be placed eithe r inside or outside an enclosure.
The sense o f crisis is m anufactured to cover over this deeper
threat to the sense o f place. D errida argues elsewhere that even
the concept o f crisis now finds itse lf in crisis inasmuch as its
symptoms cannot be localized: “Sparing no region, this ill-b e in g
and threat do indeed affect the destination o f hum anity, and,
m ore than ever in the last fifty years, we are unable to localize
them , assign them a proper place so as to contain them . It w ould
be a matter, rather, o f an illness o f the place.”23 The “sickness o f
the hom e” described by O f Grammatology is equally the “illness o f
the place.” The sense o f place is always as infected as that o f the
183_______
Taking Place

house. But it is n o t lost w ith the disruptive re tu rn o f what is


buried w ithin i t O n the contrary, it is produced by that very
re tu rn . Place is a side effect o f the specter that disrupts i t

T a kin g Place

In each o f D errida’s readings, such a re tu rn o f the repressed that


uncannily resists the law o f the house, the fo rm o f resistance that
is actually the possibility o f that law, the law th a t is only a law
inasmuch as it places, calls in to question w hether anything “takes
place” in a p a rticu la r space and even w hether the space its e lf
takes place. W hen D e rrid a speaks o f the uncanniness o f unde­
cid ability in ‘T h e D ouble Session,” fo r exam ple, he is speaking
o f the way the hym en doesn’t take place inasm uch as its spacing
subverts space: “ between the inside and the outside . . . the hymen
only takes place w hen it doesn’t take place . . . located between
present acts that d o n ’t take place. W hat takes place is only the
entre, the place, the spacing, w hich is n o th in g .”24 In each essay, it
is a question o f such a nonplace that com plicates the structure
o f the events that supposedly take place. A poem, fo r example,
w hich “blurs” philosophy’s lim it, com plicating its sense o f space,
“no longer has any place. This no-place . . . is the poem ’s taking
place.”25 Any parasitic supplem ent, as O f Grammatology puts it,
always “adds only to replace. I t intervenes o r insinuates its e lf
in-the-place-of. . . takes-(the)-place’’26 such that, in the end, as the
book later argues, it has n o t taken place.27 The c ritica l question
asked at some p o in t by each o f D e rrid a ’s essays— “Does it take
place?”— is always effectively answered “no and yes.” Taking
place, like place, becomes an in s titu tio n a l effect, a repre­
sentation sustained by systemic repression. In unp icking the
mechanisms o f th a t repression, deconstructive discourse exposes
the fra g ility o f this effect.
D errida contests every apparent event. H is w ork is like, as he
once p u t it, “a war over taking place.”28 I t always looks fo r what
“Livin g On: Border Lines” calls the “placeless place,”29 that w hich
“takes place w ithout taking place,”30 o r “takes place, placelessly.”31
In all these enigm atic points, and examples could endlessly be
m u ltip lie d here, place is understood as an in stitu tio n , space is
184____________
Dislocating Space

always constructed. As “Shibboleth,” puts it, “a border is never


natural.” Furtherm ore, this “lin e — o f the place, o f the country,
o f the com m unity, o f what takes place in a language,”32 w hich is
constantly patrolled, m onitored by some kin d o f police force,
and scrutinized fo r intruders, is always constructed by an uncon­
trollab le oscillation across it called fo r by the very in stitu tio n that
patrols it. The effects o f place and taking place depend upon the
parasitic ruses o f the crypt, by which that which is o fficia lly
expelled over the lin e is secretly appropriated in order to hold
the line:
[The crypt] can only take on meaning in relation to a place. By place,
I mean just as much the relation to a border, country, house, or
threshold, as any site, any situation in general from within which, prac­
tically, pragmatically, alliances are formed, contracts, codes and conven­
tions established which give meaning to the insignificant, institute
passwords, bend language to what exceeds it, make of it a moment of
gesture and of step, secondarize or “reject” it in order to find it again.33

D errida everywhere looks fo r a certain “elsewhere,” a “non-site,”


“non-place,” o r “atopos.” There is no essay o f his that does n o t
raise the question o f place and o f taking place in this way.
A lthough it never emerges as the ostensibly central theme o f any
particular deconstructive reading, one o f his interviews does
id e n tify it as the “central” focus o f those readings. Yet again, it is
presented as a question: “ the ultim ate site (lie u ) o f my question­
ing discourse . . . w ould be a non-site . . . M y central question is:
fro m what site o r non-site ( non-lieu) can philosophy as such
appear to its e lf as other than itself?”34 To disturb the tra d itio n a l
construction o f space, deconstructive discourse looks fo r another
kin d o f spatiality to use as a lever to force open the tra d itio n :

It is simply that our belonging to, and inherence in, the language o f
metaphysics is something that can only be rigorously and adequately
thought about from another topos or space where our problematic
rapport with the boundary o f metaphysics can be seen in a more radical
light. Hence my attempts to discover the non-place or non-lieu which
would be the “other” o f philosophy. This is the task o f deconstruction.35
S im ilar appeals to the need to fin d another kin d o f space occur
thro ugho ut D e rrid a’s w ritin g , b u t in each case the sense o f the
185________
T aking Place

w ord “space” is fundam entally displaced. Rather than sim ply


crossing the boundary o f the p a rticu la r space produced by the
discourse o f metaphysics in order to fin d another, it is a m atter
o f in te rfe rin g w ith the very sense o f boundary produced by that
discourse, the sense o f space that is the dom inant effect o f the
trad ition . And this sense o f boundary can only be threatened
precisely by being affirm ed rather than stepped across. The logic
o f boundary cannot be stepped over, o r even broken, w ith out
reconstituting it. To be outside the law is to rem ain in its space.
W hen D errida’s “Tym pan” asks “can one, strictly speaking, deter­
m ine a nonphilosophical place, a place o f e xte rio rity o r alterity
from which one m ig h t s till treat o f philosophy? . . . From philoso­
phy— to separate oneself, in order to describe and decry its law,
in the direction o f the absolute e xte rio rity o f another place,” the
answer is “no” inasm uch as “e xteriority and alte rity are concepts
w hich by themselves have never surprised philosophical dis­
course.”36 Indeed, they are the very basis o f the construction o f
space. Rather than stepping outside, breaking the law by break­
in g the line, it is a question o f “opening” a space w ith in the o ld
one, where opening is n o t understood as a new space that can
be occupied b u t as an opening in the very idea o f space, a
loophole that is precisely n o t a hole w ith its own borders, but a
kin d o f pocket secreted w ith in the old sense o f border.
D errida repeatedly refers to this sense o f “opening,” arguing
that “deconstruction, i f such a th in g exists, should open u p .”37
This clearly follow s H eidegger’s equally repeated call fo r an
“opening” o f the philosophical tra d itio n , the necessity o f “dis­
closure” understood as the “opening o f space,”38 and his account
o f the fundam ental co n d itio n o f being as “openess.”39 For H ei­
degger, this opening o f space is n o t ju s t an opening “in ” a space,
b u t is the “pre-spatial” opening up th a t “provides the space in
w hich space as we usually know it can u n fo ld .”40 The opening o f
space is the opening that makes space possible. H is destruction
o f the philosophical tra d itio n does n o t sim ply break o r rear­
range the fa m ilia r “closed” “physically-technologically projected
space”41 that the tra d itio n produces by m aintaining a certain
image o f architecture, b u t attem pts to expose th a t space to the
openess that exceeds it and makes it possible. D errida, who
186____________
Dislocating Space

describes him self as w orking w ith in and transform ing the specific
“opening o f Heidegger’s questions,” understands deconstruction
as the “opening o f a space through a p rin cip le o f dislocation,”42
w hich is its e lf “inscribed in a space” no longer that o f philoso­
phy.43 As w ith Heidegger, ostensibly nonphilosophical sites like
“lite ra tu re and the arts,” the “spatial arts” w hich, w hile “never
tota lly free fro m the marks o f philosophical language,” establish
some kin d o f in te rn a l “distance” from those marks that “provides
the necessary free space from w hich to interrogate philosophy
anew,”44 a subversive space fro m w hich to investigate the space
protected by philosophy and dem onstrate that despite this pro­
tection it is already inhabited by th e ir disruptive spacing, that the
protection takes the fo rm o f in stitu tio n a l denial o r disavowal.
Inasm uch as this in terrogatio n is affirm ative, it always returns to
the tra d itio n and “opens up the space fo r a rem arking .”45
Such an in te rn a l d isrup tion and reinscription o f space is, by
d e fin itio n , always the disru p tio n o f an in stitu tio n . Deconstructive
“theory,” fo r instance, w hich is, in the end, neither strictly p h ilo ­
sophical n o r artistic, is described as “ the opening o f a space” in
the university. Having developed in the “space” o f lite ra ry studies,
it moves on to a new kin d o f in te rd iscip lin a ry w ork that pre­
viously m et “nowhere.”46 Nowhere becomes the site o f action.
This seemingly contingent detour through the designated space
o f a “spatial a rt” toward some nonsite w ith in a classical space is
sym ptomatic. W hat D e rrid a locates in the unm appable te rrito ry
that binds philosophy and the spatial arts in convoluted and
surprising ways, the atopic spatiality in w hich one cannot “make
a diagram . . . draw a sort o f chart, o r cartography o f th e ir
positions,” is “w ritin g .”47
T h ro u g h o u t his w ork, w ritin g acts the figure o f this other
spatiality, the spacing that opens a tra d itio n a l space and displaces
the in stitutio nalized logic o f place. T his can clearly be seen in
“Freud and the Scene o f W ritin g ,” w hich looks at the way Freud
employs the “m etaphor” o f w ritin g th a t “haunts” tra d itio n a l dis­
course as his own m etaphor fo r the haunting that is repression.
D errida argues that w ritin g , fo r Freud, is a “breaching” in the
sense o f the “opening up o f its own space”48 through the “vio len t
in scrip tio n o f a fo rm .” In describing repression as a fo rm o f
w ritin g , Freud must dislodge the tra d itio n a l understanding o f
187________
Taking Place

w ritin g that attem pts to repress its effects, the enforced place­
m ent o f w ritin g in space which conceals its spacings. He m ust
open a new space and does so by id e n tifyin g w ritin g itse lf as the
opening o f a space: “a d iffe re n t w ritin g space m ust be found, a
space w hich w ritin g has always claim ed fo r itse lf.”49 W riting is
invoked as the fig u re fo r opening.
This is, o f course, also a description o f D e rrid a’s own practice.
Everywhere, his w ork appeals to “w ritin g ” as both a new space
and as the opening up o f such a space, the new space being no
m ore than the ope nin g o f the old. In these term s, the space o f
w ritin g is spacing. W ritin g , in this transform ed sense, acts as both
the persistent them e and quasi m odel o f deconstructive dis­
course that everywhere attem pts to insert its e lf in to the knots
that bind this spacing to the very in stitutio nalized sense o f space
that represses it. T he “distance” that the discourse takes from
tra d itio n a l space is clearly n o t its e lf spatial. It is an in te rn a l
dislocation o f space rath er than a detachm ent fro m it, as can be
seen when D errida’s “Voice II . . .” describes the dislocating
“spacing” o f telephony:

I do not know whether these voices must pass through, across o r in some
space that pre-exists them, commands them, borders or supports them.
And even if it lets them pass, such a space would still threaten to submit
them to its law. . . . we should perhaps not rely too much on names
commonly attributed to that “space.” It may not be a space, a locus,
even a “region,” but a strange force o f dislocation . . . without reference
to a fixed place in an objective topology . . . truly this madness of the
voice is without place or, better, it is atopical.54

B ut even then, th is atopic w ritin g is n o t so m uch a dislocation o f


a stable space as it is an id e n tifica tio n o f the extent to w hich the
sense o f space th a t the tra d itio n constructs is always dislocated
and dislocating. T he hau nting o f space by the unlocatable turns
o u t to be what produces the sense o f space as such in the firs t
place. It is the opening in the structure that is the very possibility
o f the sense o f stru ctu re m aintained by in stitutio ns like philoso­
phy, w hich is to say th a t the unacknowledged opening is struc­
tural. In stitu tio n a l space is necessarily b u ilt around its opening
to som ething other. As “Genesis and S tructure” proposes, “the
structurality o f an opening— such, perhaps, is the unlocatable
site in which philosophy takes root. P articularly when it speaks
188____________
Dislocating Space

o f and describes structures.”51 Space is b u t an effect o f disloca­


tio n , as are a ll the values associated w ith it— enclosure, presence,
immediacy, tru th , law, stability, security, order, and so on— and
the m u ltip lic ity o f institutions that privilege those values.
T his argum ent is e xp licitly Heideggerian. The “Ends o f M an,”
when speaking o f H eidegger’s deploym ent o f the space o f the
house as is the dom inant and inescapable “m etaphor” o f these
values,52 argues that Heidegger disrupts the tra d itio n a l spatial
logic by re th in kin g it “according to the opening o f a spacing
w hich belongs n eith er to tim e n o r to space, and w hich dislocates,
w hile producing it, any presence o f the present.”53 T his spacing
o f the tra d itio n , this veiled force o f dislocation that is “buried in
its oikonom ia," is buried in the house precisely inasmuch as it is
unlocatable. It attains its force inasmuch as it cannot be placed
by the very mechanisms o f place it inhabits. Just as the e xp licit
re th in kin g o f place in D e rrid a’s essays follows that o f Heideg­
ger,54 the sense o f the haunted house that pervades those essays,
w ith o u t ever being described as such, is Heideggerian, even
though, i f we follow D e rrid a’s extended readings o f Heidegger’s
texts, those texts ultim ately resist it.
D e rrid a ’s “Restitutions: The T ru th o f P ointing,” fo r example,
begins its reading o f Heidegger’s “The O rig in o f the W ork o f
A rt” by describing its e lf as a “ghost story.”55 Follow ing Heideg­
ger’s id e n tifica tio n o f the architectonic logic o f grounding,
founding, standing, erection, m onum ent, and so on, w ith that o f
the in s titu tio n , it focuses on the question o f place and in stitu tio n ,
in stitu tio n as that w hich places. It reads Heidegger’s attem pt to
place two shoes, themselves understood as “an institute, a m onu­
m ent,”56 in a painting by Van Gogh and thereby re tu rn them to
an owner fro m whom they are apparently detached. In the end,
the shoes cannot be placed. Like all supplem entary ornam ents,
they tu rn o u t to be neith er attached to n o r detached from any
o f the structures that could be used to p in them down, whether
it be a peasant’s feet, the space o f the painting, the space o f the
e xh ib itio n , the in stitu tio n a l spaces o f a rt history and philosophy,
Heidegger’s own argum ent, and so on. D errida’s “spectral analy­
sis” exposes the p o in t at w hich H eidegger’s argum ent, which
its e lf com plicates the relationship between structure and orna­
m ent, resists his own assertion that Being is fundam entally un-
189________
Taking Place

canny. It does so by lin k in g the idea o f haunting to the uncanny.57


The ghost is always an uncanny guest Inasm uch as the “fa m ilia r
( heim lich ) ” shoes are haunted, they are “unheim lich .” But so too
is whatever they are supposedly detached from .58 The shoes are
both “haunted” and “hau nting,” as is H eidegger’s discourse in its
engagement w ith them . H aunting is never singular. I f it involves
the re tu rn o f a “ghost,” it is always a re tu rn to a ghost [ ” revenant
au revenant” ].59 In the end, a space is n o t sim ply haunted. Rather,
the space is itse lf haunting. D errida follow s this “accum ulation
o f haunting” that disrupts the always in stitu tio n a l logic o f struc­
ture /ornam en t and the fa m ilia r conceptions o f space and place
it sustains. The structure is as m uch haunted by the ornam ent
as the ornam ent is by the structure, and this convoluted “relation
o f haunting” exceeds the in stitu tio n a l space produced by the
system o f philosophical oppositions, calling in to question the
always, at the least, p o litic a l logic o f place and identity. In show­
in g that the in stitu tio n a l logic o f space, the all-pervasive logic o f
the house, is made possible by the haunting th a t exceeds it,
D errida turns H eidegger’s argum ents upon themselves, tacidy
extracting from them a diabolic scene o f haunted space, the
dom esticity o f space as that w hich is, and cannot be w ithout it,
haunted.
The spectral scene everywhere inscribed in D e rrid a ’s texts,
albeit in oblique and dispersed traces, can never be isolated from
this refolding o f H eidegger’s argum ents. D e rrid a ’s am bivalent
struggle w ith H eidegger continues in those texts that do n o t
appear to address Heidegger, p a rticularly where they, as is so
often the case, raise the question o f place.
The elusive sense o f the house haunted by the spacing buried
w ith in it can be seen, fo r example, in “The Deaths o f Roland
Barthes,” which argues that the massively overdeterm ined p o in t
Barthes calls the punctum “haunts” the space o f the photograph
by virtue o f being unlocatable w ith in it: “We are prey to the
ghosdy power o f the supplem ent; it is this unlocatable site w hich
gives rise to the specter.” 60 The punctum punctures space and,
inasmuch as it is unlocatable, it is n o t ju s t a p a rticu la r space that
it punctures, but the very sense o f space itself. I t is heterogeneous
to space and yet, a t the same tim e, is n o t sim ply opposed to space.
I t leaves the d e fin itio n o f place behind, b u t it is only in being
190____________
Dislocating Space

le ft behind, only in the wound that marks the puncture, that


there is a sense o f place: “a wound no doubt comes in (the) place
o f the p o in t signed by singularity, in (the) place o f its very instant
(stigm e), o f its point. B ut in (the) place of this event, the place is
le ft ” 61 W hat is le ft behind, the trace o f the trace, is place. Place
is an effect o f the double withdrawal th a t encrypts spacing.
T his argum ent draws on D e rrid a’s early reading o f Heidegger
in “ O usia and Gramme,” w hich notes th a t when Being and Time
reads Hegel, the p o in t is seen to m ark the firs t o f the successive
stages (follow ed by the lin e then the surface) by w hich space
constitutes its e lf by w ithdraw ing its own conditions o f possibility.
As D e rrid a puts it: “The p o in t is the space that does n o t take up
space, the place that does n o t take place; it suppresses and
replaces the place, it takes the place o f the space th a t it negates
and conserves. It spatially negates space.”62 W hat Heidegger
often calls the “spatiality o f space,” 63 is concealed by the p o in t,
the m in im a l m arker in space, the spatial marker, as it is by a ll
the visible m anifestations o f space th a t succeed the point. The
apparent articu la tio n o f space actually marks the effacem ent o f
its basic cond ition : “Pure spatiality is determ ined by negating
properly the indeterm ination that constitutes it, that is, by negat­
in g its e lf. . . Space, therefore, has become concrete in having
retained the negative w ith in itself. I t has become space by losing
itse lf.” 64 The way in w hich D errida describes spacing’s im plica­
tio n in its own repression echoes the concept o f “w ithdraw al”
that organizes so m uch o f Heidegger’s w ritin g . Indeed, the whole
argum ent about space embedded w ith in D e rrid a ’s w ritin g th a t
has been follow ed at length here remains deeply indebted to
Heidegger even after exercising its sustained and rigorous c riti­
cism o f H eidegger’s use o f it.

D isplacing D iscourse

I t is crucial to rem em ber that D e rrid a’s extended rew orking o f


Heidegger’s argum ent about space is n o t sim ply a discourse
“about” space and its dislocations. One o f its firs t effects is to
dism antle the sim ple opposition between discourse and space. A
discourse is its e lf a space and spaces are produced by discourse.
191_______________
Displacing Discourse

A t one po in t in the essay “Geschlecht, Sexual D ifference, O n­


tological D ifference,” D e rrid a pays atte ntion to Heidegger’s ar­
gum ent that the spacing th a t is repressed w ith in o u r fa m ilia r
sense o f space surfaces in language, the spatial rh e to ric o f lan­
guage being the very m ark o f its o rig in rath er than a contingent
accident. The sense o f being-there (Dasein) in the w orld “hides,
shelters in itself” 65 the possibility o f spatial “dispersion,” a spacing
that is “structural” ra th e r than a d isru p tio n o f an already estab­
lished space, a spacing that is always “before” space, before, th a t
is, the sense o f space constructed by the philosophical tra d itio n .
Heidegger employs a num ber o f term s fo r this dispersion, each
o f w hich “names a spacing . . .‘before’ the determ ination o f
space.” 66 This spacing is n o t a dispersal “in ” space, but is the
dispersal that produces space as such. I t is the possibility o f
anything taking place o r tim e, establishing “the o rig in a ry spatial-
ity o f Dasein, its R dum lichkeit. The spatial o r spacing dispersion is
m anifested in language fo r instance. Every language is firs t o f a ll
determ ined by spatial significations (Raumbedeutungen). ” 67 Spac­
in g always inscribes itself, albeit obliquely, w ith in the very space
from w hich it withdraws. Any discourse necessarily carries w ith in
itse lf traces o f a w ithdraw n spacing and can never detach its e lf
from the particular effect o f space produced by th a t withdrawal.
Furtherm ore, that effect, the very construction o f space as such,
is always discursive. Space is only ever a discursive e ffe ct
In these terms, D e rrid a is already engaging w ith spaces and
w ith the question o f space in ways th a t are themselves necessarily
spatial inasmuch as he engages w ith the in stitu tio n a l structure o f
discourses, which he always does, w hether he e xp licitly addresses
space o r not. O ften his texts do address it, weaving backward and
forw ard between w hat a discourse dire ctly o r in d ire ctly says, or,
as is often the case, w ill n o t say, about space and its own consti­
tu tio n o f a space, a rticu la tin g the convoluted b u t structural form s
o f transference between them . In the end, the question o f de-
construction and architecture th a t we have been pursuing here
turns on this transference.
The way in w hich architecture is w ritte n in to D e rrid a ’s relent­
less binding o f discourse and space can be seen in “Plato’s Phar­
macy,” in which the dislocation o f space is yet again understood
192____________
Dislocating Space

as the dislocation o f the domestic. The text rehearses the argu­


m ent we have been follow ing by lo o kin g at the role o f the
pharm akoi (wizards, magicians, poisoners) in Plato’s Phaedrus
who, through th e ir subversive play w ith spacing, are seen as
sources o f evil that should be “cut o ff from the space o f the city” 68
by being expelled across its borders and yet are invited back in
and domesticated: “the representative o f the outside is nonethe­
less constituted, regularly granted its place by the com m unity,
chosen, kept, fed, etc., in the very heart o f the inside. These
parasites were as a m atter o f course domesticated by the livin g
organism that housed them at its expense.” 69 T hat w hich is
supposedly excluded fro m the domestic space nevertheless takes
its place w ith in it, kept inside in order to be sym bolically ex­
cluded whenever there was a crisis, excluded in a way that deter­
mines the contours o f “the boundary lin e ” that marks the space.
T hat w hich has no place is “granted its place” in order to define
the place as such. Place, yet again, is an effect o f the placeless.
D e rrid a uses this apparendy lite ra l example o f dislocation em­
ployed by classical discourse to analyze the structure o f that very
discourse. The story is its e lf one o f the myths [k h a ire iri\ that Plato
has supposedly banned fro m the space o f his dialogue, a dis­
cursive space that, follow ing the classical tra d itio n , explicidy un­
derstands its e lf as a topology, a system o f topoi o r places that
structures an argum ent: ‘T h e topoi o f the dialogue are never
in d iffe re n t. The themes, the topics, the (comm on-) places, in a
rhetorical sense, are strictly inscribed, com prehended each tim e
w ith in a significant site. They are dram atically staged, and in this
theatrical geography, u n ity o f place corresponds to an in fa llib le
calculation o r necessity.”70 A nd yet, having been banned from the
topological regim e o f this spatial system, the m yth returns in to
the space, vio latin g its precisely calibrated and policed order.
F urtherm ore, it returns precisely to te ll the story o f the inevitable
re tu rn o f the excluded. In both cases, the story and the phar-
makon it describes, that w hich has no place in the space reenters
it, takes an ille gitim ate place, b u t does so at the in vita tio n o f the
police o f the space, the representatives o f its law. The ille gal alien
is recalled by the law, re tu rn in g to cover over some kin d o f
193_____________
Displacing Discourse

embarassing deficiency in the space, to shore it up and articulate


the very borders it violates.
The myth, like the pharm akon it speaks about, n o t only takes a
place in Plato’s argum ent, it “takes place” in the name o f tru th .
I t returns to establish the tru th o f philosophy, w hich is to say, the
space m aintained by philosophical discourse. Each is a “house-
breaker”71 that establishes the structure o f the “household o f
logos,”72 constructing the very domestic law it breaks. Philosophy,
that which determ ines the place o f things, is its e lf determ ined
by that which exceeds its law, that w hich disrupts dom esticity
inasmuch as it cannot be securely placed. The space o f philoso­
phy, the “house” o f metaphysics that m onum entalizes the distinc­
tio n between inside and outside, w hich is to say the house that
preserves the very idea o f the house, is secretly inhabited and
made possible by the spacings that are excluded from it and yet
re tu rn to haunt it as a “ghost” :

I f one got to th in k in g th a t it can o n ly be o u t o f som ething lik e w rit­


in g — or the pharmakon— th a t the strange difference between inside and
outside can spring; if, consequendy, one got to th in k in g th a t w ritin g as
a pharmakon cannot be assigned a site w ith in what it situates, cannot be
subsumed under concepts whose contours it draws, leaves only its ghost
to a logic that can o n ly seek to govern it insofar as logic arises from
it— one w ould then have to bend [plier] in to strange contortions w hat
could no longer even sim ply be called logic o r discourse.73

In identifying the contortions o f the always haunted house, de-


constructive discourse disturbs the space o f discourse before it
disturbs the discourse about space. T his raises the question o f
philosophy’s own place, the place o f the discourse which places
and polices, the question that D errida m ost explicidy addresses
in the essay “Languages and the Institu tio n s o f Philosophy.”
W hen looking at the “topological structure” o f the university, its
division o f places understood to be, like all determ inations o f
space, a political division, a “politology,” the essay asks where is
philosophy itself placed: “if it takes place, i f it has a place, and if
the philosopher h im se lf takes place.”74 In the o rig in a l th in kin g
o f the university, the philosopher has “two places: a circum ­
scribed place and a non-place.”75 O n the one hand, there is a
194____________
Dislocating Space

departm ent o f philosophy located w ith in the structure and, on


the other hand, there is no p a rt o f the in stitu tio n that is n o t
philosophical. Philosophy is actually “at once everywhere and
nowhere”76 and the philosopher is figured as the “undiscoverable
subject and as a non-place o f the constructed in stitu tio n or o f
the topology.”77 A nd inasmuch as the philosophical th in k in g that
organizes the university has no place, it “never takes place any­
where” and, furtherm ore, even “the university itse lf doesn’t take
place.”78 The logic o f place that governs the in stitu tio n a l topol­
ogy is its e lf w ith o u t place. In the end, the order o f place is
actually displacem ent, there is no location w ith o u t dislocation.
Each site is fragile, w hich is n o t to say vulnerable. O n the con­
trary, each space, and the o fficia l discourse used to legitim ate it,
gains its force, one that is always p o litica l, from the way it ex­
ceeds, o r even contradicts that very discourse.
T his reading, like a ll readings o f place, is bound to the archi­
tectural logic o f the house, as can be seen when another o f
D e rrid a ’s essays returns to K ant’s description o f the “unlo-
calizable place” o f philosophy in order to engage in the ongoing
debate about the contem porary status o f philosophy in the
French university and argue against its “enclosure” o r “house
arrest” in any particular place.79 The discipline tra d itio n a lly de­
voted to the law o f the house m ust n o t itse lf be subjected to that
law by being “confined” to a “little ce ll” w ith in the university. The
“proper home" o f philosophy, as he puts it in yet another essay
from the same debate, m ust be p u t in to question.80 But, at the
same tim e, the tra d itio n a l space should n o t simply be abandoned
by the contem porary th in kin g that has fo r “the last twenty years”
underm ined this domestic law and redefined the role o f philoso­
phy. Rather, there is an ongoing and irresolvable tension between
the need fo r the “architecture o f the discipline” to be gathered
in a tra d itio n a l site w ith a “localizable id e n tity” and its need to
be always “opening its e lf up to new objects in a way that knows
no lim it o f p rin cip le . . . that exceeds all bounds,” a contradic­
tio n that, am ong many others, produces an “incredible topology
[ topologie incroyable].”81 T his is to say th a t the enigmas o f Kant’s
in stitu tio n a l architecture rem ain the enigmas o f contem porary
th in k in g in and about the in stitu tio n .
195_______________
Displacing Discourse

In this way, the in te rre la te d structural com plications o f both


the place o f the tra d itio n o f philosophy and the concept o f place
articulated w ith in it also organizes those discourses that displace
that tra d itio n . The slippages between the them e o f place and the
discourse about place are m u ltip lie d , fo r exam ple, in D e rrid a ’s
“A t This Very M om ent in Whose W ork I A m ” when it addresses
the crypt that Levinas locates w ith in the fa m ilia r space o f classical
discourse by continuously dislocating th a t space, ru p tu rin g it in
a way that produces a “fa u lt” o r “tear” th a t exposes w hat the space
buries. D errida argues that this “dislocation” does n o t collapse
the space but, on the contrary, inaugurates it and continues to
covertly structure i t Levinas is deconstructive inasm uch as he
“opens” the space to som ething other by e xp lo itin g the opening
that makes the space possible, the folds that endlessly com plicate
the lines that appear to define the space. As D e rrid a puts it, this
dislocation o f space “w ill have taken place— another place, in the
place o f the other— only on the co n d itio n o f another topic.”82
The space o f a discourse can only take place, constituting itse lf
as a place, through such slippery atopic movements o f disloca­
tion. Its capacity to place things depends on this displacem ent
I t can only take place by m aking a place, o r rather, a certain
nonplace, in its in te rio r fo r that w hich o fficia lly has no place
there.83
D errida asks the same kin d o f questions o f Levinas’s own
disruptive discourse, questions about its place, the very questions
th a t Levinas asks o f tra d itio n a l discourse and appears to answer
in a way that leaves the reader “no longer fa m ilia r w ith the
places” where tra d itio n a l questions “linge r.”84 N o tin g that the
questions m ight themselves already be “o u t o f place,” D errida
asks o f Levinas’s w ritin g , “W hat w ould have taken place? . . .
W hat w ould be the proper-place o f this text, o f this faulty body?
W ill it have properly taken place? . . . Does the body o f a faulty
text take place? . . . H ow does he manage to give a place there
to what remains absolutely fore ign to th a t m edium ?”85 I f Levinas
locates the elusive cry p t secreted w ith in the hom e, where is his
own discourse located? I t clearly has no place outside the space
it subverts, and th a t subversion takes the fo rm o f an ongoing
displacement, a defam iliariza tion o f the space th a t shows that it
196____________
Dislocating Space

is haunted by the other, the elusive phantom that dislodges it


fro m w ith in , exposing the sense o f place as b u t the frag ile effect
o f systemic repression. I t is only ever, and always, dislocation that
takes place.
This, in tu rn , m ust lead to the question o f the place and the
taking place o f D errida’s own work. He repeatedly warns against
the “dom estication” o f deconstructive discourse, the risk o f
w hich becomes greater the m ore it carries o u t its w ork in any
one site.86 A t one point, he portrays it as a restless “nom adic”
discourse w ith o u t a “hom e,”87 w hile at another he argues that i f
it was to be “at hom e” anywhere, it w ould be in the k in d o f places
(in clu d in g architecture departm ents) that he elsewhere de­
scribes as “fa r from the places fa m ilia r to m e,”88 rath er than those
usually allocated to it:

If, hypothetically, it had a proper place, which is precisely what cannot


be the case, such a deconstructive “questioning” or meta-questioning
would be more at home in law schools, perhaps also—this sometimes
happens—in theology or architecture departments, than in philosophy
departments and much more than in the literature departments where
it has often been thought to belong.89
O n another occasion, he asks w hether there is a “proper place”
fo r deconstruction, given that it can no longer be contained by
the “classic architecture” o f the academic disciplines it has trans­
form ed, and explores the possibility that “Am erica w ould be the
proper name o f deconstruction in progress, its fam ily name, its
toponymy, its language and its place, its p rin cip a l residence,”
since it has been “the most sensitive, receptive, o r responsive
space o f a ll to the themes and effects o f deconstruction,” 90 only
to argue th a t the discourse cannot sim ply occupy such a space,
as it is always a question o f translation between languages, that
is, between spaces.91 In the end, it is only concerned w ith form s
o f “ transference” and so has no place.
A t the same tim e, deconstructive discourse always addresses
the place it finds itse lf in . I t is a strategy necessarily, as D errida
puts it elsewhere, “dictated by places . . . I w rite from the place—
several places—in w hich I fin d m yself.”92 Each o f his essays ex­
p lic itly engages w ith its own space, its spatio-institutional context,
197_______________
Displacing Discourse

in terrogatin g the various mechanisms that fram e it and identify­


in g the way their ruses and com plications are actually folded in to
the ostensible subject o f the text w hich usually appears to be
detached from them . Each essay explores the ways its arguments
are affected by the space in w hich it is placed, w hich is n o t to
say that it simply occupies that space. In term s o f the phenom e­
non o f “deconstruction in Am erica,” fo r example, the sympto­
m atic way in w hich deconstruction both seems to have found a
place there, that it can take place there, seemingly able to occupy
Am erican institutions m ore successfully than anywhere else and
at the same tim e be m ore violently resisted by them than any­
where else, is part o f w hat produces the sense o f th a t place: “the
place itse lf is defined in this context on the basis o f the symptom
w hich is produced there.”93 D econstruction is n o t sim ply im ­
ported in to Am erica fro m some “fo re ig n ” place.94 Far fro m being
sim ply “French,” 95 it is b u ilt in to the very construction o f Am er­
ica’s identity as a place. W hile it has no place, it can never be
detached from the spaces in w hich it can be found. The overt
and violent resistance to deconstructive discourse is n o t a resis­
tance to an outsider th a t could sim ply be expelled, b u t is a
resistance to som ething in terna l, a resistance th a t was ongoing
before the “arrival” o f the discourse th a t articulates that in te rn a l
discom fort, and was no less vio le n t fo r being covert. O n the
contrary.
A nd follow ing its own relentless logic, deconstruction, inas­
m uch as it doesn’t have a place, doesn’t take place. It “sim ply
doesn’t take place, doesn’t have an exclusive place w hich could
be attributed to it . ” 96 I f it is anything, it is an “event.”97 Rather
than taking place, it is the enigm atic movements o f taking place,
o f becom ing space. A n d i f deconstruction is spacing in this sense,
what about deconstructive discourse? I f there is no discourse that
is n o t a space and no space w ith o u t spacing, what w ould be the
space o f a discourse about spacing? Is it even possible to have
such a discourse? A fte r all, spacing is precisely th a t w hich w ith­
draws fro m discourse and opens it to som ething other. This
opening can therefore never sim ply be the object o f a discourse.
As D errida puts it in “The Tim e o f a Thesis” :
198____________
Dislocating Space

How is it that philosophy finds itself inscribed, rather than itself inscrib­
ing itself, within a space which it seeks but is unable to control, a space
which opens onto another which is no longer even its other . . . How
is one to name the structure o f this space? I do not know; nor do I
know whether there can even be what may be called knowledge o f such
a space.98

Deconstructive discourse cannot sim ply involve w riters looking


fo r nonsites w ith in particular spaces, as the nonsite is precisely
th a t w hich cannot sim ply be seen, that w hich cannot be located
w ith in space, the elusive dislocation that at once disrupts and
produces the effect o f the w rite r (as a subject detached from the
objects o f its discourse) in producing the effect o f space. As
D errida argues, when speaking in an interview o f the trem ors o f
deconstructive movements, “I d o n ’t know where such trem ors
can be located. They situate us. These events don’t have a place,
they are looking fo r th e ir place. Inside and out, th e ir space is
already foreign, in any case, to what is called the history o f
philosophy.” 99 Deconstructive discourse is its e lf “situated,” placed
by the dislocations it attem pts to in d ire ctly articulate. A lthough
the movements o f deconstruction have no proper place, the
deconstructive discourse that identifies this inevitably finds itse lf
placed by those movements inasmuch as it is a discourse.
T his enigm a is explored fu rth e r in “Some Statements and
Truism s,” w hich addresses the unstable “place” o f deconstruction
in the university, its “in stitu tio n a l place” in the system that both
allocates places and protects the very logic o f place: “B ut that
w hich thus allows them to take place has no stable o r theorizable
place. I t is in this non-place that the appearance o f deconstruc­
tio n can be situated, and I w ill later distinguish this process from
a state, fro m a ‘deconstructionist’ theory, o r an u n like ly set o f
‘deconstructionist’ theorem s.”100 A lth ough deconstructive dis­
course is nom adic, it is always given a space, institutionalized
even, by the very dislocations it reads.
O ne o f the consequences o f this enigm a is that the restless
movements o f deconstruction are arrested, domesticated, given
place, located in space, as m uch by its ostensible supporters as
by its critics: “I w ould say that even on the side where one in
general tries to situate ‘deconstruction,’ . . . even there, ‘decon-
199_____________________________
Listening to the Silence about Space

structionists’ and ‘ deconstructionism ’ represent an e ffo rt to re-


appropriate, tame, norm alize this w ritin g in order to reconstitute
a new ‘theory.’” 101 A lth ough deconstructive discourse inevitably
finds itse lf “situated” by what it reads in ways that are always
surprising, any atte m pt it m ight make to actively situate decon­
struction is already to domesticate it, to consume it in a way that
resists its operations. Even then, it m ust also be noted that, as
D errida argues elsewhere, such a consum ption could never be
straightforw ard:

Deconstruction in the singular cannot be simply “appropriated” by


anyone or by anything. Deconstructions are the movements o f what I
have called “exappropriation.” Anyone who believes that they have
appropriated or seen appropriated something like deconstruction in
the singular is a p rio ri mistaken, and something else is going on. But
since deconstruction is always “something else,” the error is never total
or pure.102

Deconstruction can only be consumed inasm uch as it is an ob­


je ct, w hich it is not. Rather, it is the very movements o f the
spacing whose repression produces the effect o f an object in
producing the effect o f a space. A n object, like a subject, can
only appear as such in space. The sim ple b e lie f th a t deconstruc­
tio n is som ething th a t can be eithe r supported o r criticized
already marks the always frustrated attem pt to domesticate its
play. The question o f space is therefore w ritten in to the whole
debate around deconstruction, even though it is rarely raised as
such. In th e ir shared attem pt to place deconstruction, the osten­
sibly w arring factions in the debate attem pt to efface its force by
effacing spacing. The sustained collective silence around the
question o f space, w hich is actually the m aintenance o f the tra­
d itio n a l account o f space, and the pa rticu la r sense o f the po litica l
that this account m aintains, is the firs t sign o f this resistance.

lis te n in g to the S ilence about Space

The strategic role o f this effacem ent can be seen, fo r instance,


in the infamous exchange between D e rrid a and John Searle. In
“Lim ited Inc. a b c . . .” D errida addresses the “dom estication” 103
200____________
Dislocating Space

o f his w ork effected by what he sees as the systematic violence


done to his essay “Signature, Event, C ontext” by Searle’s pub­
lished response to it. In docum enting and in te rp re tin g this vio­
lence, D errida, as always, argues in the term s that we have been
exploring here. H is counter-response begins by n otin g the
“strange, uncanny fa m ilia rity” o f Searle’s reading and raising the
usual questions o f place and taking place: “W hat is the nature o f
the debate that seems to begin here? W here, here? Here? Is it a
debate? Does it Take Place? Has it begun already? When? . . . I f
it takes place, what is its place?”104 The text goes on to id entify
the m u ltip le senses in w hich the debate between his essay and
Searle’s is “n o t quite taking place” and ends w ith the question
W ill it have taken place, this time? Q uite.”105 D e rrid a’s argum ent
is that it is actually the way in which a debate about deconstruc­
tio n can never quite take place that disrupts the “ topology” o f
tra d itio n a l academic discourse, upsetting the “ logic o f its
places”106 and threatening its empowered guardians, its academic
police. It is the im possibility o f placing deconstruction that is its
greatest threat.
I t is n o t coincidental that the particular text that Searle has so
violently “dom esticated,” by “assim ilating” it in a way w hich pro­
duces a “com fortable” because reductive “digest,” is one that
e xp licitly raises the questions o f space and place in a way that
Searle ignores. It also begins w ith the question o f what “takes
place” (in this case, what takes place in com m unication) and
e xp licitly addresses w ritin g as an “opening” o f the “space” o f
com m unication, a “spacing” w hich, like a ll “parasites,” disrupts
the tra d itio n a l sense o f being “at hom e.” 107 In attem pting to
restore this very sense o f domestic security by digesting decon­
struction, Searle attem pts to domesticate argum ents about the
spacing o f w ritin g b u t w ith out addressing spacing as such,
abruptly restoring and reasserting the tra d itio n a l concept o f
w ritin g being called in to question. I t is arguably this effacem ent
o f space and spacing that effects the dom estication. A lthough
D errida does n o t p o in t to this effacem ent, his reply restores the
argum ent about space by describing the undecidability “calling
in to question the entire tra d itio n a l philosophy o f the oikos” m in
201______________________________
Listening to the Silence about Space

terms o f the parasitic in co rp o ra tio n o f the cryp t b u ilt in to the


structure o f any house:

The structure of the area in which we are operating here calls for a
strategy that is complex and tortuous, involuted and fu ll o f artifice: for
example, exploiting the target [the “classical concept” o f writing]
against itself by discovering it at times to be the “basis” o f an operation
directed against it; or even discovering “in it” the cryptic reserve o f
something utterly different.109

The space being in terrogated is haunted and its parasitic phan­


tom is uncanny inasm uch as it “is never sim ply alien to and
separable from the body to w hich it has been transplanted o r
w hich it already haunts.” 110 A fte r all, i f the cryp t is b u ilt in to the
structure o f the house, it is b u ilt in as the very structure o f the
space.
And, yet again, this argum ent about the haunting o f space
directly concerns the p o litica l. D e rrid a attem pts to show how a
supposedly neutral philosophical discourse reproduces “the
founding categories o f till ethical-political statements” 111 that are
the possibility o f the produ ction o f “law.”112 Searle’s violence,
sustained or, rather, produced, by the guise o f scholarly neutral­
ity, is the violence o f the law, the violence th a t m aintains the
academic space, the house whose structure D e rrid a underm ines.
In D errida’s later re fle ctio n on the exchange, he argues that it
“concerned above a ll o u r experience o f violence and o f our
relation to the law— everywhere, to be sure, b u t m ost directly in
the way we discuss ‘am ong ourselves,’ in the academic w o rld,”
particularly in the university.113 T his violence, w hich can never
sim ply be eradicated, needs to be taken account o f and its analy­
sis, the analysis o f the violence o f analysis, the violence o f even,
i f n o t especially, the sim plest fo rm o f question, constitutes a form
o f p o litica l action, indeed is one o f the actions th a t “contribute
most to transform ing the legal-ethical-political rules: in the u n i­
versity and outside the university.” 114 Furtherm ore, this interroga­
tio n turns out to concern the very effe ct o f inside and outside,
the establishment o f a sense o f space th a t is an effect o f the
systemic violence involved in the fa m ilia r assum ption prom oted
by Searle that there is a p o litica lly n eu tral “space o f theory”
202____________
Dislocating Space

detached fro m “real life .” 115 There is no space w ith out police
force. I t is n o t that any sense o f space is, by d e fin itio n , p o litica lly
suspect, b u t that it is always, b u t n o t only, p o litica l from the
beginning:

There is a police that is brutally and rather “physically” repressive (but


the police is never purely physical) and there are more sophisticated
police that are more “cultural” or “spiritual,” more noble. But every
institution destined to enforce the law is a police. An academy is a
police. . . . if the police as such is not politically suspect a priori, it is
never neutral either, never apolitical.116

Furtherm ore, it w ould fo llo w fro m D e rrid a ’s argum ent that a ll


police are academic inasmuch as they are all, in the end, the
guardians o f theory. Theoretical assumptions are always at stake
in every in s titu tio n — assumptions that cannot be asserted, le t
alone m aintained, w ith o u t violence, the violence o f a space.
Searle is n o t sim ply in crim inated because he prom otes a particu­
la r sense o f space and attem pts to enforce its law, b u t because o f
the p a rticu la r contradictions involved in that enforcem ent. Der­
rid a draws an “indispensable” d istinction between the im p lic it
force o f the police and the “unjust b ru ta lity o f a force that most
often violates the very law to w hich it appeals.” 117 I f there is a
responsibility in the realm o f theory to which Searle appeals, it
is to id e n tify the structural nature o f this kin d o f “abuse” o f the
rules when it establishes those rules and thereby defines a space.
In the end, although he does n o t say as m uch, D errida is calling
fo r a certain responsibility in the construction o f space.
T his in d ire c t b u t insistent call is typically responded to w ith a
strategic silence, a regulated series o f absences in the discourse
o f both “supporters” and “critics” o f deconstruction, a shared
silence th a t establishes the most solid defense to the workings o f
deconstruction. In these terms, the extensive debate around the
question o f deconstruction needs to be re-read in detail to track
the c ritic a l b u t rarely acknowledged role o f space in it and to
dem onstrate that what is always everywhere at stake fo r everyone
is the construction o f space, a construction bound in to a certain
image o f architecture. Such a reading becomes even m ore urgent
now that the question o f architecture has begun to be raised by
the discourse in recent years b u t raised defensively in a way that
203_____________________________
Listening to the Silence about Space

actually m aintains ra th e r than breaks the silence around space,


a silence whose very loudness marks how high the stakes in space
are.
Before m aking such a reading, it is im p o rta n t to note that the
tension between the violence o f the law that constitutes a space
and the violence o f the deconstructive argum ents that under­
m ine that space is never sim ply between supporters and critics,
conservatives and revolutionaries, o ld and new, and so on. It is
b u ilt in to those argum ents, from the beginning, in the same way
that deconstructive movements are b u ilt in to the tra d itio n a l dis­
course that attem pts to resist them . A tension about space is
endem ic to discourse as such. Inasm uch as a discourse is a space,
it can never fu lly take account o f space, le t alone spacing. The
question o f space necessarily exceeds discourse. P art o f the si­
lence about space can never be fille d . The argum ent about space
b u ilt in to D errida’s w ork at so many d iffe re n t levels is n o t sim ply
resisted by other discourses. H is own discourse is also punctuated
by certain silences about space. Some o f them constrain his
arguments and can be broken to open up the discourse, b u t
others are systemic and cannot be broken w ith o u t threatening
it.
I f space can o n ly ever be uncanny and a ll discourses are
m arked and organized by its uncanniness, there can never be a
discourse, in the tra d itio n a l sense, about that uncanniness. I t
must be remembered that a discourse is only deconstructive
inasmuch as its vio la tio n o f the in stitutionalized codes o f reading
organizing a space does n o t sim ply break the law b u t exploits the
break already inscribed in to the law, constituting it as such.
W hich is probably to say that, in the end, there can be no such
th in g as a “deconstructive discourse” as such or, rather, that all
discourses are already deconstructive, b u t in a way they cannot
sim ply articulate.
It m ust also be rem em bered that the two form s o f violence
that constitute space (th a t o f spacing and the in stitu tio n a l vio ­
lence that represses it) are always entangled. This interdepend­
ence is underlined in D e rrid a ’s reading o f B lanchot in “The Law
o f Genre,” which argues that subversion “needs the law in order
to take place”118 because, to abruptly sh ort-circuit the te xt’s
204____________
Dislocating Space

elaborate itin e ra ry here, there is “lodged w ith in the heart o f the


law itself, a law o f im p u rity o r a p rin cip le o f contam ination”119 a
“counter-law” o r “parasitical economy” in w hich an “unsituable”
“fo ld ” disrupts the sense o f “objective space,” “norm ed space,”
“visible space,” o r “enclosure,” by co n fig u rin g “an in te rn a l pocket
larger than the w hole” 120 whose “excess” violates the very
“boundaries” it installs. A nd this crucial argum ent about space,
one that has been tracked through so many texts here, is its e lf
seen to arise from “an act o f unjustifiable violence” on D e rrid a’s
part: “A b ru ta l and m ercilessly depleting selectivity w ill obtrude
upon me, upon us, in the name o f a law that L a fo lie de jo u r has,
in its tu rn already reviewed, and w ith the foresight that a certain
kin d o f police b ru ta lity is perhaps an inevitable accom plice to
o u r concern fo r professional com petence.”121 The apparent
space o f deconstructive discourse (w hich is precisely deconstruc-
tive only inasm uch as it is n o t a delim ited discourse b u t a certain
spatial excess, an exceeding o f spatial lim its) can only be pro­
duced by some kin d o f affirm ative com plicity w ith the very b ru ­
ta lity it appears to displace.
To break the silence about space that establishes the (always
dom estic) law w ill therefore n o t sim ply involve breaking the law
by speaking lo udly in the in stitutio nalized void about architec­
ture. Rather, it w ill involve actively engaging w ith the silence,
tu rn in g the law against itself, exp lo itin g its force to interrogate
the very silence it preserves. To deconstruct architecture is n o t
to deconstruct a certain strategic effect o f in stitu tio n a l discourse
by sim ply constructing d iffe re n t kinds o f argum ent about archi­
tecture. Before this, it involves articula ting the ways in w hich
architecture is routine ly constructed by certain silences that con­
stitute ra th e r than in te rru p t discourse, silences whose ongoing
violence can, by d e fin itio n , only be addressed obliquely. The
challenge for, and to, deconstructive discourse is to re th in k ar­
chitecture by locating such an oblique address.
In -C o n clu sio n

In place o f a conclusion (deconstruction being, o f course, any­


th in g b u t conclusive), the specific b ru ta lity o f the reading o f
D e rrid a ’s texts being made here has to be acknowledged and its
effects taken in to account. The question o f architecture (edifice,
space, house, oikos, spacing, in fe rio rity, structure, ornam ent, un­
canny, parasite, place, and so on) has been obsessively and vio­
le ntly extracted fro m D errida’s w ritin g , crudely isolated and
reassembled in a way that forces the sense o f a single, albeit
convoluted, argum ent ru n n in g thro ugh a ll his w ork. The overt
trajectory o f each te xt has largely been ignored and the specific
effects o f the oblique question o f architecture have n o t been
follow ed through in a ll the sites in w hich it does n o t register as
such. A nd, if this was n o t enough, those texts that m ight at firs t
seem to be the m ost relevant— D e rrid a ’s later w ritings about
architecture—have been abrupdy bracketed out, along w ith all
the other texts in the debate they have occasioned. Furtherm ore,
there is even a fo rm id a b le violence involved in sim ply nom inat­
in g architecture as a question, a systematic b ru ta lity in relent­
lessly interrogating D e rrid a ’s texts, repeatedly asking o f them the
sim ple question o f “architecture,” fo rcin g an answer, i f not a
confession, and ta citly in crim in a tin g any silence. T he simplest o f
questions, as D errida has repeatedly argued, is vio le n t,1 even i f
the question is, as it has always been here, about violence, the
violence o f architecture and the architecture o f violence.
206_________
In-Conclusion

O ff the T hreshold

The b ru ta lity o f this narrow reading cannot be conveniently


legitim ized by the protocol o f vio le n t fid e lity that D e rrid a insists
on. I t has been argued here, from the beginning, that an archi­
tectural reading o f deconstructive discourse must be an abusive
one. M uch o f the violence o f the reading made here is therefore
necessary— necessary precisely in order to raise the question o f
architecture, a question on whose quiet b u ria l the tra d itio n de­
pends— b u t at a certain p o in t the violence is sim ply the conse­
quence o f an incompleteness o f the reading, a reading that may
even, if pursued m ore rigorously, tu rn o u t to be in sufficiently
vio le n t in other senses.
N o t only w ill the precise location o f this p o in t always rem ain
unclear, b u t it can never be removed. D e rrid a’s texts cannot
sim ply be called on to arbitrate between good and bad violence.
O n the contrary, they everywhere argue that n o th in g can be
legalized o r authorized w ith o u t some illegal violence. They attain
th e ir force only inasmuch as they call in to question such mecha­
nisms o f authority, in clud ing, especially, th e ir own. To invoke
certain aspects o f D e rrid a ’s texts in order to authorize certain
readings o f the rest o f those texts is therefore already to do
considerable violence to them and to begin to resist th e ir m ore
oblique, and, therefore, ultim ately m ore te llin g , force. The archi­
tectural reading o f D e rrid a ’s w ork cannot sim ply be subjected to
some generic and higher code o f reading that could discrim inate
between vio le n t and fa ith fu l readings.
F urtherm ore, there can be no such code that is n o t already
dependant on a certain construction o f architecture. W hat is at
stake in architecture is the status o f reading itself. It has been
repeatedly argued here that architecture is precisely n o t an ob­
je c t aw aiting a reading, o r a theme w ith in certain readings wait­
ing to be addressed. Rather, a certain image o f architecture (the
image o f the b u ild in g as a m aterial object that sim ply stands and
encloses) acts as the basis o f the tra d itio n a l construction o f the
subject as a reader. The generic idea that architecture stands
before a subject that m ig h t choose to read it veils architecture’s
role in the construction o f that subject, w hich is also to say,
207_____________
O ff the Threshold

architecture’s ro le in the veiling o f its constitutional role, the


ongoing withdrawal o f its enigmas in favor o f an unam biguous
dem arcation o f space fro m w hich a reading subject is seen to be
detached. To explore these repressed enigmas is necessarily to
disturb the tra d itio n a l concept o f reading that is bound to that
o f architecture. D e rrid a ’s displacem ent o f reading, which is pro­
vocative fo r architectural discourse inasmuch as it presupposes a
displacement o f architecture and starts to uncover some o f the
enigmas o f architecture, must itse lf be displaced to explore them
further. The surfaces o f D errida’s essays, like those o f architec­
ture, have to be disfigured, scratched rath er than sim ply scruti­
nized, to see what they repress w ith in (as distinct from behind
o r beneath) th e ir very surface.
Having said this, detailed attention has to be paid to the
particular ways in w hich the p a rtial nature o f this reading o f
D e rrid a’s essays and the excessiveness o f its violence have con­
trib u te d to its construction o f architecture. Such attention w ould
transform or, at least, m u ltip ly the trajectories o f the text. I t is in
the interest o f a m ore nuanced understanding o r m obilization
o f architecture (ra th e r than a sim ple, and highly problem atic,
no tio n o f fid e lity to D e rrid a ’s texts) that the narrowness o f this
reading must be in terrogated and dislodged.
A t the same tim e, I w ould insist—and perhaps this is the only
claim being made here— that what has been so b ru ta lly extracted
from D errida’s w ork here is n o t one subtext am ong others. Its
role is n o t like the others in the chain o f argum ents in w hich it
may be placed. Indeed, it configures that chain and is to do w ith
precisely what it is to be placed. To say the least, it concerns the
spacing between the lin ks in the chain, the conceptual trajectory
m arked by the ong oin g production o f such gaps, the strategic
role o f spatial form s lik e that o f a chain, and so on. D e rrid a’s
dissem ination o f lines o f overlapping and yet heterogeneous
arguments is itself, firs t and forem ost, a spacing.
There are, o f course, many dangers in m onum entalizing spac­
ing, tu rn in g it in to some kin d o f solid b u ild in g and thereby
effacing its strange movements, arresting and dom esticating
them by gathering them together and placing them at some
m ythical center o f the space o f an equally m ythical “discourse”
208_________
In-Conclusion

(deconstruction) produced by an equally m ythical “author”


(D e rrid a ). As we have seen, violence is always the agent o f con­
struction. Part o f the violence w ith w hich the question o f archi­
tecture has been isolated here has to be understood as a fo rm
o f resistance to the subversive rhythm s o f deconstructive dis­
course. I t reconstitutes the id e n tity o f architecture in the face o f
those dim ensions o f the discourse that have tacitly begun to call
that id e n tity in to question and therefore must its e lf be im m edi­
ately placed in to question. B ut it is equally the case that it is only
possible to id e n tify the other dim ensions o f deconstructive dis­
course th a t already tacitly consolidate the tra d itio n a l image o f
architecture by forcing the question o f architecture upon the
discourse, insisting on the centrality o f architecture in precisely
the ways that it w ould want to resist, o r rather, always resists in
order to constitute itself.
In such a confrontation, both deconstructive discourse and the
sense o f what architecture is are dislodged. The crude question
o f architecture (one whose very cru d ity is precisely determ ined
by a m ille n n ia l tra d itio n that constructs a certain image o f archi­
tecture, the image o f architecture as the crudest object, the most
basic spatial fo rm defined by its brute m ateriality, the m inim um
a rticu la tio n o f order) splinters in the face o f deconstructive
discourse and, equally, that discourse is itse lf dislodged. But,
u n like architecture, it is n o t dislodged by sim ply being splintered
because it so often represents itse lf as a fo rm o f splintering that
fractures the tra d itio n a l image o f architecture. O n the contrary,
it is dislodged by id e n tifyin g the secure architecture that its
splintering movements actually consolidate. The splinter is, after
all, n o t sim ply the result o f a fracture. It is equally the means o f
the effacem ent o f fracturing. As a splint, it is that w hich holds a
fractured body together, that w hich props it up, m aintaining an
architecture. From the beginning, the question o f deconstruc­
tio n and architecture forces a confrontation between splintered
architecture and the architecture o f splinters.
T his text, w hich only begins to stage such a confrontation, to
rehearse, im agine, o r image it, is inevitably as divided as the
discourse it appears to read, only “appears” to inasmuch as the
confrontation is actually an in te rn a l one. The apparent division
209_____________
O ff the Threshold

between this text and the deconstructive discourse it frames as


an object in order to be read is in te rn a l to each. This is n o t only
unavoidable but has been a central them e here. I t is precisely
through such congenitally m u ltip le in te rn a l divisions, and the
particular in stitu tio n a l practices that mask them , that architec­
ture is at once produced and assumes its strategic ro le in dom i­
nant Western discourse as the figure o f that w hich is n o t itse lf
divided inasmuch as it is the very figure o f division, w hich is to
say that architecture is represented as that w hich has no archi­
tecture. The tra d itio n depends fo r its strength on this veiling o f
the extent to w hich architecture is, in the end, a certain effect
o f the pervasive, ongoing, and irresolvable in te rn a l co n flict that
coverdy entangles a ll the lines it appears to so unproblem atically
draw. A rchitecture is no m ore than the strategic effect o f the
suppression o f in te rn a l contradiction. I t is n o t sim ply a mecha­
nism that represses certain things. Rather, it is the very m ark o f
repression.
The reading o f the relationship between architecture and de-
construction (the “between” actually in te rn a l to each, w hich
binds them together so repeatedly and tighdy that n eith er can
be considered w ith o u t the other) obviously cannot end here, o r
even begin. I t m ust be as restless as the movements it articulates.
Shaking the question o f architecture o u t o f D e rrid a ’s w ritin g is
b u t one o f many necessary b u t in su fficie n t gestures. In the end,
what is offered here is, at most, an in tro d u c tio n to D e rrid a’s
w ritin g , a narrow reading o f his texts th a t offers a certain form
o f leverage into the ongoing exchange between deconstructive
discourse and the discourse o f architecture, a way o f engaging
w ith the d iffe re n t argum ents being deployed, in clu d in g those o f
D errida.
This text has read D e rrid a up to, around, and beyond the
threshold o f his overt e n try in to the space o f architecture w ith o u t
ever sim ply crossing th a t threshold. The reading is an extended
hesitation at the threshold, or, rather, an attem pt to th in k about
the nature o f the threshold, to ask w hat w ould be the threshold
o f architecture. W ould it be its e lf architectural? I f a threshold is
always, by d e fin itio n , b o th inside and outside a space, the thresh­
o ld to architecture m ust be both architectural and nonarchitec-
210_________
In-Conclusion

tural. B ut this s till presupposes that the threshold to architecture


has the tra d itio n a l architecture o f the threshold. Because the
space o f architecture cannot sim ply be architectural, its threshold
must be other or, and this is to say the same thing, the space
its e lf is other inasmuch as it doesn’t have a threshold. A t the
same tim e, the space o f architecture is precisely that w hich sus­
tains the idea o f the threshold. Each o f the m u ltip le in stitu tio n a l
practices th a t constitute that space contributes to the sense o f
threshold, the sense o f a mechanism that allows a lin e to be
crossed, a mechanism that tem porarily breaks, suppresses, o r
neutralizes an otherwise secure line. In everywhere com plicating
the apparently clear line, deconstructive discourse necessarily
displaces the sense o f the threshold that tra d itio n a lly negotiates
passage across such lines. Far from abandoning the threshold,
the discourse generalizes its cond ition . There are only ever al­
ways thresholds. I f the lines that appear to define space are but
the effect o f the in stitutionalized suppression o f th e ir fundam en­
tal com plications, the threshold is the mechanism o f that sup­
pression, w hich is to say that the sense o f the lin e is actually
produced by the threshold that appears to cross it.
I f deconstructive discourse begins by problem atizing the archi­
tecture o f the threshold, to sim ply cross the overt threshold to
architecture in D e rrid a’s w ork w ould already be to suppress the
com plicated role o f architecture in that work. The most obvious
opening to the question o f architecture is, by virtue o f its very
obviousness, actually some kin d o f closure (rem em bering that
what is at stake here is precisely the buried discursive mecha­
nisms that make available the always architectural sense o f clo­
sure and openness). Rather, it is a m atter o f scanning the other
texts, in te rro g a tin g th e ir surfaces fo r the traces o f other open­
ings, openings that do n o t sim ply o ffe r some kin d o f access to
architecture, b u t m ark the degree to w hich D e rrid a ’s texts are
routine ly perforated by architecture and depend on this very
perfo ra tio n fo r th e ir force. O f course, the recent texts o f D errida
“about” architecture, w hich have been fo rcib ly kept at a distance
here in o rd e r to th in k about the covert architectural economy
in his w ork, m ust be read b u t read in a way that m aintains a
certain resistance to th e ir overt economy, an economy that is, fo r
211__________________
The Institution of Space

architectural discourse at least, all too fa m ilia r and that threatens


to overwhelm that th in k in g by reconstituting the very in stitutio ns
designed to mask it (the author-architect, the philosopher-theo­
rist, the project, the program , the site, the plan, the fetish o f
m aterial, architecture as a high art, and so on). W hen these texts
are removed from the quarantine im posed here, the issue w ill be
to what extent the operations o f deconstructive discourse are
disturbed o r reinforced by th e ir overt nam ing o f architecture as
a question, their apparent transform ation o f architecture from a
given to a question, a transform ation whose potential im pact on
tra d itio n a l discourse cannot be underestim ated.
As w ith any discourse, the relationship between the tacit roles
o f architecture in D e rrid a ’s w ork and what it may say about
architecture w ill always be com plex, enigm atic, and structural.
These relationships need to be read in detail by carefully unpick­
ing his texts on architecture. The same structural enigmas can
also be traced in the w ork o f other deconstructive w riters who
have started to address architecture and those architects who are
now addressing deconstruction. The evolving discourse needs to
be patiently rethought, and this re th in kin g w ill necessarily ex­
tend to discourses w ith in w hich n e ith e r architecture n o r decon­
struction appear to surface. The reading o f the discourse’s
preconditions offe red here attem pts to establish at least one
trajectory w ith w hich to open such an analysis.

The In s titu tio n o f Space

A t the same time, such an architectural reading o f deconstructive


discourse could o nly open that discourse if it occurs in parallel
to, and entangled w ith , a deconstructive reading o f the sociopoli­
tical in stitu tio n o f “architecture.” A ll o f the com plications that
have been follow ed here are at least doubled in the case o f
architectural discourse. I f in stitutio ns are always spaces and space
is always in stitutio nal, what about architectural discourse, osten­
sibly the in stitu tio n o f space, that is, the in stitu tio n a l form ation
“responsible” fo r the p a rticu la r space that is used as the para­
digm o f space by o th e r discourses? W hat about the space o f
space? I f institutions are, by d e fin itio n , architectural, the institu-
212_________
In-Conclusion

tio n o f architecture, and its deconstructive reading, must be


som ething other. To re th in k this in stitu tio n w ould be m ore than
sim ply a rigorous response to the specificity o f architectural dis­
course, one response am ong so many others. Rather, it w ould, at
the very least, reconfigure all the operations o f deconstructive
discourse by displacing the particular th in kin g o f the in stitu tio n
that organizes them.
The in stitu tio n o f architecture is clearly m ore than buildings
and the practices by w hich they are produced. A rchitecture is
n o t sim ply a specific kin d o f object that is produced by a num ber
o f m aterial practices and can be represented before, during, and
after its construction and in its e lf exceeds, in its physical pres­
ence, any such representation. The b u ild in g “itse lf” is no m ore
than a specific mechanism o f representation. In fact, there is no
such th in g as a b u ild in g outside o f a large num ber o f overlap­
ping mechanisms o f representation: schools o f architecture, pro­
fessional codes o f ethics, critica l practices, historiographical
m ethodologies, academic protocols, pedagogical techniques,
cu rricu lu m structures, the strategic role o f the author’s signature
and project credits, legalization o f the w ord “architect,” desig­
nated safety factors in structural calculations, standardized draw­
ing techniques and conventions, b u ild in g codes, aesthetic codes,
zoning codes, clo th in g codes, school admission standards, faculty
classifications, fee structures, h irin g and firin g practices, rh e to ri­
cal conventions, exam ination structures, m odel-m aking tech­
niques, various form s o f etiquette, legal contracts, copyright law,
the structure o f the slide lecture, strategic control and dissemi­
nation o f ideas through conferences and publications, ritualized
master worship, theoretical and graphic commonplaces, copy­
e d itin g protocols, interview and presentation form ats, photo­
graphic techniques, the in stitu tio n o f the architectural ju ry ,
p o rtfo lio construction and circulation rituals, com petition fo r­
mats, o ffic ia l and u n o fficia l club m em bership control, m u ltip le
advertising strategies, the standardized fram ing o f images, the
specific techniques o f publication, e d ito ria l control, fu n d in g pat­
terns, the structure o f the architectural m onograph, the biogra­
phy and so on, to name only some o f the most obvious ones. A ll
o f them are m echanical systems o f reproduction whose ritualistic,
213__________________
The Institution of Space

if n o t fetishistic, re p e titio n constantly affirm s the presence o f


architecture rather than analyzes it. Indeed, the very intensity o f
th e ir repetition seems to m ark a nagging b u t suppressed doubt
about that presence. They are the real mechanics o f architecture.
The b u ild in g is lite ra lly constructed by these mechanisms o f
representation. Its very solidity, the sense that it has an irreduc­
ib le m ateriality th a t precedes representation, is b u t a product o f
th e ir com plex interactions. A lthough the b u ild in g is constructed
by such systems o f representation, they precisely construct it as
som ething that precedes them.
Each o f these d iscip lin a ry technologies needs to be carefully
analyzed in its specificity and interrelationships w ith other such
mechanisms (both those o f other disciplines and those that or­
chestrate specific transactions in everyday cu ltu ra l life ) to deter­
m ine its strategic ro le in the construction o f architecture. Each
has to be read deconstructively to determ ine what its operations
attem pt to p ro h ib it and the ways in w hich this p ro h ib ite d other
returns to covertly orchestrate the very discourse th a t appears to
exclude it. Equally, they have to be read in a way th a t produces
a m ore nuanced, i f n o t displaced, account o f this strange archi­
tecture o f p ro h ib itio n /re tu rn , w hich has been articulated at
length by deconstructive discourse. In a kin d o f in te rn a l struggle,
the deconstruction o f architecture m ust reconfigure the archi­
tecture o f deconstruction, and so on, and on.
This struggle w ould im m ediately raise a series o f specific ques­
tions that must be asked o f the in stitutio ns o f architecture, ques­
tions about their strategic role in the organization o f diverse
cultural transactions like the distin ctio n between h igh and low
culture, the construction o f gender and sexual orientation, the
m icro structures o f disciplina ry control, the elusive fo rm o f the
global economy, the twisted space o f psychoanalytic theory, the
interwoven spaces o f the em erging technologies o f com munica­
tio n , the ongoing perform ance o f identity, d ig ita l imagery, the
waging o f war, the re-constitution o f pub lic space, the perverse
geom etry o f power flows, and so on. Such questions have become
increasingly urgent. W hile some o f them may lo o k like new
questions or questions about apparently new phenom ena, they
are actually tra d itio n a l questions th a t need to be re-asked in a
214_________
In-Conclusion

d iffe re n t way. In feet, they are only urgent inasmuch as they are
tra d itio n a l. I t is precisely the tra d itio n a l questions that must be
repeated yet again, b u t repeated in a way that takes account o f
the in stitu tio n a l role o f that repetitio n. In the end, the question
is always, in what way is architecture repeating itself? W hat is
being repeated? W hat is the re p e titio n we call architecture? A nd
what does it at once m obilize and conceal?
M u ltip le trajectories o f in q u iry need to be opened up and
obsessively pursued by patiently follow ing a ll the d iffe re n t fa u lt­
lines th a t are already inscribed, however faintly, in to the surface
o f architectural discourse in some kin d o f dense web, an in tricate
pattern o f scars that m ark that w hich is burie d w ith in the very
surface, th a t w hich the discourse is unable to speak about but
actually makes it possible. Such inquiries look fo r slippages in
the tra d itio n by questioning a ll its ro u tin e categories and strate­
gies b u t n o t to sim ply overthrow them . O n the contrary, they
intensify them , ruthlessly respecting th e ir specific rig o r in order
to see exactly what it is that th e ir slippages organize. I t is only
possible to explore the senses in w hich architecture is always
operating otherwise by fo rcin g the discourse designed to conceal
them to face its own operations. Each such operation has to be
pushed to its lim it. U nder this kin d o f sustained pressure, a ll the
tra d itio n a l subjects o f architectural discourse (architects, b u ild ­
ings, movements, details, typologies, ornam entation, structural
analyses, architectural histories and th e ir own history, regional
form ations, perceptual analysis o f spaces, and so on) w ill be at
once reinforced, supplem ented, and displaced. O nly by respect­
in g the discourse, a ffirm in g it, even, i f n o t especially, in its stun­
ningly im poverished moments, treating each o f its seemingly
incidental, i f n o t trivia l, habits as a highly systematic construction
th a t m aintains certain unstated assumptions that have specific
p o litica l consequences, can it be opened up to other possibilities.
To some extent, this heterogeneous and uncoordinated in te r­
rogation o f architecture has already begun in the w ork o f a small
num ber o f w riters and designers, sometimes in the name o f
deconstruction b u t often w ith o u t it, i f n o t against it. O nly a small
part o f the very pub lic discourse about “deconstruction and
architecture” participates in this re th in kin g and most o f that
215_________________
Exhuming Architecture

discourse in the end resists it. Indeed, in such a deconstruction


o f the in stitu tio n o f architecture the w ord “deconstruction” is
clearly superfluous.
Furtherm ore, this re th in kin g does n o t sim ply open architec­
ture up to “new” possibilities. Rather, it id entifies the m u ltip le
openings that already structure architecture and on whose veil­
in g so many cu ltu ra l transactions depend, in clu d in g , especially
(since the question o f tim e can never be detached from that o f
space), the very sense o f the “new.” I f n o th in g can be new
w ith out the sense o f the o ld that is bound to architecture, the
apparently simple idea o f a “new architecture” is, at the very least,
extraordinarily com plicated; w hich is only to repeat that to de­
construct the tra d itio n o f architecture is firs t and forem ost to try
and com prehend its ro le in the constitution o f the very sense o f
tra d itio n , the way it constructs the sense o f fa m ilia rity and the
extent to which th a t sense depends on its routine , b u t ro u tin e ly
masked, violation.
To say that this obsessive re p e titio n o f o ld questions does n o t
sim ply authorize o r p ro je ct som ething “new” is n o t to say every­
th in g remains unchanged, the dom inant structures rem ain
dom inant, and so on. Rather, it is to displace the sense o f what
constitutes a transform ation by suggesting th a t any sim ple avant-
gardist sense o f a new practice (w hether it be a k in d o f essay o r
b u ild in g ) necessarily and im m ediately reconsolidates the tradi­
tiona l in stitu tio n o f architecture it claim s to dislodge o r critique.
I t veils the extent to w hich the tra d itio n constitutes its e lf as such
by repressing th a t w hich always dislodges it fro m w ith in and
thereby maintains th a t repression, constructing the tra d itio n as
stable in the very gesture o f destabilizing it. Deconstructive dis­
course is d iffe re n t b u t n o t sim ply new. Its difference is actually
in te rn a l to the tra d itio n s it appears to displace.

Exhum ing A rchitecture

The im pact o f such readings o f the m u ltip le in stitu tio n a l prac­


tices that constitute architectural discourse w ould necessarily ex­
ceed that discourse inasm uch as those practices defend a certain
account o f architecture against investigation in o rd e r that it may
216_________
In-Conclusion

circulate between, and coverdy orchestrate, a heterogeneous


range o f cu ltu ra l discourses that do n o t seem architectural. That
w hich architectural discourse labors so hard to protect never
sim ply becomes visible w ith in it. It is protected by being con­
cealed. Since only what is recognized w ith in the discourse is
o fficia lly designated as “architecture,” the fundam ental concern
o f architectural discourse, that w hich it is designed to protect,
that w hich must be buried by it, cannot sim ply be architectural.
Likewise, the in stitu tio n a l mechanisms that determ ine what is
architectural and bury this other sense cannot themselves be
architectural, w hich is to say again that neither the space o f
architecture, n o r what is hidden w ith in it, can be architectural.
To fo rcib ly interrogate the institutions o f architecture to release
what they hide w ill be, by d e fin itio n , to locate things that seem
to belong outside the discipline.
A t the same tim e, the anarchitecture buried w ith in the dis­
course, burie d w ith in the o fficia l account o f architecture in order
that it can circulate outside th a t discourse, can never be sepa­
rated fro m the discourse that buries i t A lthough the space o f
architecture can never be architectural, the various in stitu tio n a l
practices th a t m aintain it bear a curious and strategic relation­
ship to this anarchitectural sense they b ury in order that it may
haunt so many other discourses. I t is the o fficia l account o f
architecture that enables it to haunt. This account visibly circu­
lates outside o f architectural discourse and can be easily located
in diverse discourses. In each location, it carries w ith in it an
unspeakable sense o f architecture. The mechanism by which this
sense is concealed w ith in architectural discourse is reproduced
outside it.
I t is n o t that this mechanism is constructed w ith in architec­
tu ra l discourse and then disseminated to circulate outside. In ­
deed, architectural discourse as such is an extrem ely recent
phenom enon given the m ille n n ia l tra d itio n in w hich a particular
image o f architecture has organized th in kin g , a tra d itio n stretch­
in g at least back to Plato and everywhere operative in , if n o t as,
contem porary life . The discipline o f architecture poses a unique
thre at to that ancient tra d itio n inasmuch as it ostensibly investi­
gates the co nd ition o f architecture and could uncover and
217_________________
Exhuming Architecture

thereby underm ine its operations. The whole discursive economy


hangs on the m aintenance o f the mechanism that represses the
slipperiness o f architecture behind a benign image o f disciplined
space. A rchitectural discourse was only recently allowed to con­
stitute its e lf as such by offe ring, as it were, a guarantee, a carefully
worded promise th a t the wildness o f space can be domesticated
and, once tamed, protected as some kin d o f endangered prim e­
val species in a h ig h ly legislated and inaccessible reserve. The
provision o f this guarantee remains its central cu ltu ra l role. The
in stitu tio n o f architecture is n o t concerned w ith the construction
o f buildings but w ith the m aintenance o f the idea o f bu ild in g ,
the maintenance o f an ancient and slippery construction that is
com pletely dependant on certain unspoken contracts that pro­
tect po litica l structures apparently unrelated to it. The discipline
o f architecture is m ore than the d iscip lin in g o f space. Before
that, it is the d iscip lin in g o f a certain th in k in g “about” space, or,
m ore precisely, it is a set o f in stitu tio n a l practices that m aintain
the idea that th in k in g can only ever be “about” space inasmuch
as it is always detached from the spaces it addresses. Separating
th in kin g from architecture in the very m om ent it appears to
direct th in kin g tow ard architecture, the discourse suppresses the
anarchitecture th a t makes th in kin g possible and, in so doing,
blinds its e lf to the enigmas o f the spaces it addresses.
To try and speak about the heavily guarded anarchitectural
sense that allows discourses to speak is obviously n o t to sim ply
speak o f buildings, le t alone houses, as they are com m only un­
derstood. But equally, it is n o t to leave buildings behind. O n the
contrary, it is to say th a t buildings can never be le ft behind, that
the seemingly fa m ilia r sense o f a b u ild in g is actually an enor­
mously com plicated sense that is the produ ct o f a massive tra­
d itio n , or system o f overlapping traditions, w hich is being
constantly and vio le n tly enforced in the name o f laws supposedly
founded on that very sense. This ancient tra d itio n projects b u ild ­
in g outside itself, isolating buildings fro m discourse, constructing
b u ild in g as that w hich comes before discourse, a privileged p o in t
o f contact w ith prehistorical, tran sculttira l order. To raise the
question o f deconstruction and architecture is therefore n o t to
sim ply address space, the edifice, the house, and so on, but to
218_________
In-Conclusion

th in k about the dom estication o f space itself, the housing o f the


house, the dom estication o f the house, the dom estication o f the
mechanisms o f dom estication, the housing o f that w hich makes
the house possible, the elusive architecture o f architecture itself.
I f houses are a ll, from the beginning, haunted, what exacdy is
it that the in stitu tio n o f architecture, the house that supposedly
houses the question o f the house, haunted by? In the end, this
is n o t a question o f haunted houses, b u t the extent to which we
are always haunted by houses— haunted, that is, by the in stitu ­
tio n a l mechanisms that construct space. The uncanniness o f
space is n o t only the sense that any space is always occupied by
what it ostensibly excludes, b u t equally the sense in w hich space
its e lf cannot be excluded. Discourse is haunted by architecture,
haunted by its strangeness in the very m om ent that this strange­
ness has apparently been bracketed o u t by the ritualized gestures
employed by most discourses that repeatedly exclude the lite ra l
sense o f a b u ild in g only to im m ediately invite it in as a m etaphor,
supposedly the least mysterious outsider, the most fa m ilia r and
reliable guest o f all, a touchstone whose presence is reassuring
and stabilizing. T ra d itio n a l discourse splits architecture across
the division between lite ra l and m etaphorical, fin d in g the lite ra l
b u ild in g threatening and the m etaphorical b u ild in g reassuring.
It m aintains its space by m aintaining this line. But inasmuch as
the d istin ctio n between lite ra l and m etaphorical is based on the
very image o f architecture it appears to include, the lin e is
actually radically convoluted and the threatening conditions o f
architecture cannot be excluded. They re tu rn to haunt the space
whose in stitu tio n a l practices can no longer resist them by hold­
ing the line. A nd what returns is precisely the sense that archi­
tecture its e lf does n o t h old the line, that a b u ild in g doesn’t
sim ply fig u re the security o f spatial divisions, but is rather the
product o f the in stitu tio n a lly enforced repression o f th e ir
convolution.
A deconstructive reading o f architecture is therefore n o t only
concerned w ith showing that architecture has its parasites, but
also w ith showing that it is itse lf a parasite, b u t a very particular
form o f parasite. If, as D errida argues, the parasite is the u n ru ly
and unwelcome houseguest whose very disrup tion o f the space
219_________________
E xhum ing A rch ite ctu re

actually provides its law, the figure o f architecture is the all-too-


welcome houseguest, the well-m annered visitor whose very guar­
antee o f the space w ould somehow disorder it i f its term s were
to be examined in any detail. It is the outsider th a t “stands fo r”
the constitution o f space rather than its vio latio n, b u t it always
harbors w ith in its e lf the rhythm s o f spacing, the subversive move­
ments that at once constitute and violate the sense o f space.
The question th a t has been so insistendy asked here m ust
fin a lly become th a t o f the spacing o f architecture itself. O n the
one hand, it is the spacing that makes architecture possible even
w hile, or, rather, only by, vio latin g its apparent order. O n the
other hand, it is architecture’s spacing o f other discourses, the
violation o f diverse in stitu tio n s by a certain architectural th in kin g
o f space that makes th e ir own spaces possible; the way in w hich
architecture haunts o th e r discourses; the extent to w hich they
cannot th in k o f themselves as discourses w ith o u t being haunted
by a particular lo gic o f space sustained by architectural images.
A nd if architectural discourse guarantees the spatial laws that
other institutions enforce, this a ll too fa m ilia r logic o f enforce­
able space, space as enforcem ent, harbors w ith in its e lf an un­
speakable architecture, a p ro h ib ite d b u t irresistible spacing. The
image o f the house th a t necessarily haunts in stitutio ns inasmuch
as they are institutions, the image w hich is always th e ir self image,
the very image o f in s titu tio n , is its e lf haunted. W hile the archi­
tectural discourse th a t protects that image is the designated in ­
stitutional space o f space itself, it is precisely n o t the designated
space o f spacing. O n the contrary, w hat it protects is the efface-
m ent o f spacing by space. N o space, by d e fin itio n , has space fo r
spacing. A nd yet it is the m ajor achievem ent o f D e rrid a ’s extraor­
dinary work, one whose consequences cannot be overestimated,
to show that there is n o space w ith o u t it, th a t architecture is
always haunted.
A t the same tim e, it m ust be rem em bered that this com plica­
tio n also necessarily affects the space o f deconstructive discourse,
and D errida’s w ork in particular. Those texts that appear to
rigorously pursue the question o f spacing, w hether they address
architecture or n o t, are invariably haunted by stable construc­
tions o f space th a t punctuate th e ir argum ents w ith o u t being
220_________
In-Conclusion

called in to question by them . A rchitecture remains the A chilles’


heel o f deconstructive discourse. The strength o f that discourse
depends on the veiling o f its systemic weakness fo r architecture,
a tra d itio n a l weakness that structures the discourse as such and
needs to be interrogated, especially when the question o f decon­
struction and architecture is being explicidy raised. N o t only has
such an in te rro g a tio n hardly even begun here, but this text m ust
im m ediately be subjected to it.
N otes

Preface

1. M ark W igley, “H eidegger’s H ouse: T he V io le n ce o f th e D om estic,” D : Columbia Docu­


ments in Architecture and Theory, n o . 1, 1992, 91-121.

The Translation o f A rch ite ctu re

1. Jacques D e rrid a , “Des T ours de B abel,” trans. Joseph F. G raham , in Joseph F. G raham ,
ed., Difference in Translation (Ith a ca : C o rn e ll U n ive rsity Press, 1985).

2. “ [A ]n d fo r the n o tio n o f tra n sla tio n , we w o u ld have to substitute a n o tio n o f transfor­


mation: a regulated tra n sfo rm a tio n o f one language by another, o f one te xt by another.
We never w ill have, and in fa c t never have had, to do w ith some “ tra n sp o rt” o f pu re
signifieds from one language to another, o r w ith in one and th e same language, th a t th e
sig n ifyin g in stru m e n t w o u ld leave v irg in and u n to u ch e d .” Jacques D e rrid a , “Sem iology
and G ram m atology,” trans. A la n Bass, in Positions (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press,
1981), 20.

3. W alter B enjam in, “T h e Task o f th e T ra n sla to r,” trans. H a rry Z ohn, in H annah A re n d t,
ed., Illum inations (New Y ork: Schocken Books, 1968), 69-82, 80.

4. Ib id ., 72.

5. Ib id ., 75.

6. “A te x t lives only i f it lives on [ sur-vit], and it lives on o n ly i f it is at once translatable


and untranslatable . . . T o ta lly translatable, it disappears as a te xt, as w ritin g , as a body o f
language [langue]. T ota lly u n tra n sla ta b le , even w ith in w hat is believed to be one language,
it dies im m ediately. T hus triu m p h a n t tran sla tio n is n e ith e r the life n o r the death o f th e
te x t, o n ly o r already its liv in g on, its life a fte r life , its life a fte r d e a th .” Jacques D e rrid a ,
“L ivin g O n : Border Lines,” trans. Jam es H u lb e rt, in Deconstruction and Criticism (New York:
Seabury Press, 1979), 75-1 7 6 , 102.
222______________
N ote to Pages 5 -10

7. See Jacques D e rrid a , “M e— Psychoanalysis: A n In tro d u c tio n to The Shell and the
Kernel by N icolas A braham ,” trans. R ichard K le in , D iacritics, vo l. 9, no. 1, S p rin g 1979,
4-12.

8. “F o r i f the d iffic u ltie s o f tra n sla tio n can be a n ticip a te d . . . one should n o t begin by
naively b e lie vin g th a t th e w ord ‘d e co n stru ctio n ' corresponds in French to some clear and
univocal s ig n ific a tio n . T he re is already in ‘m y’ language a serious ( sombre) p ro b le m o f
tra n sla tio n between w hat here o r th e re can be envisaged fo r th e w ord, and the usage
its e lf, th e reserves o f the w o rd .” Jacques D e rrid a , “L e tte r to a Japanese F rie n d ,” trans.
D avid W ood and R o b e rt B ernasconi, in D avid W ood and R ob e rt B ernasconi, eds., Derrida
and Differance (C oventry: Parousia Press, 1985), 1-5 , 1.

9. M a rtin H eidegger, “B u ild in g , D w e llin g , T h in k in g ,” trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter, in Poetry,


Language, Thought (New York: H a rp e r C o lo p h o n, 1971), 143-161.

10. Im m a n u e l K ant, Critique o fPure Reason, trans. N o rm a n Kem p S m ith (L o n d o n : M acM il­
lan and C o., 1929), 47.

11. Ib id ., 608.

12. Ib id ., 14.

13. M a rtin H eidegger, The Principle o f Reason, trans. R eginald L illy (B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a


U n ive rsity Press, 1991), 127. “ [T ]h a t u pon w h ich som ething rests, nam ely w hat lies
present before us, supportive . . . the basis, the fo o tin g , th a t is, the g ro u n d .” Ib id ., 104.
“In m easuring its e lf u p to th a t a b o u t w hich it th in ks, tru e th in k in g seeks in the being
its e lf th a t o n w h ich it supports and grounds itse lf. A ll tru e th in k in g fin d s grounds and
has d e fin ite p o ssib ilitie s o f g ro u n d in g .” M a rtin H eidegger, The Metaphysical Foundations o f
Logic, trans. M ich ae l H eim (B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive rsity Press, 1984), 20.

14. M a rtin H eidegger, A n Introduction to Metaphysics, trans. R alph M anheim (New Haven:
Yale U n ive rsity Press, 1959), 2.

15. “ [T ]h e fo u n d a tio n u p o n w h ich tra d itio n a l m etaphysics is b u ilt is shaken and fo r th is


reason the p ro p e r e d ifice o f Metapkysica Specialis begins to to tte r.” M a rtin H eidegger, K ant
and the Problem o f Metaphysics, trans. R ichard T a ft (B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive rsity Press,
1990), 85.

16. Im m a n u e l K ant, Critique o f Pure Reason, 60.

17. “To th is end, th e general m eaning o f the term “laying the g ro u n d ” [ Grundlegung]
m ust firs t be c la rifie d . T he expression’s m eaning is best illu s tra te d if we consider the
b u ild in g trade. I t is tru e th a t m etaphysics is n o t a b u ild in g o r stru ctu re [Gebdude] th a t is
a t hand, b u t is re a lly in a ll hum an beings ‘as a n a tu ra l co n stru ctio n o r arrangem ent.’ As
a consequence, laying th e g ro u n d fo r m etaphysics can m ean to lay a fo u n d a tio n [Funda­
ment] u n d e r th is n a tu ra l m etaphysics, o r ra th e r to replace one w hich has already been
la id w ith a new one th ro u g h a process o f su b stitu tin g . However, it is precisely th is
representation w h ich we m ust keep o u t o f th e idea o f a gro u n d -la ying , nam ely, th a t it is
a m a tte r o f th e b yp ro d u ct fro m th e fo u n d a tio n [G rundlagen] o f an already-constructed
b u ild in g . G round-laying is ra th e r th e p ro je c tin g o f th e b u ild in g p la n its e lf so th a t it agrees
w ith th e d ire c tio n co n ce rn in g on w hat and how th e b u ild in g w ill be g ro u n d e d . Laying
the g ro u n d fo r m etaphysics as th e p ro je c tin g [Entwerfen] o f th e b u ild in g p la n , however,
is again n o em pty p ro d u cin g o f a system and its subdivisions. I t is ra th e r th e a rch ite cto n ic
c ircu m scrip tio n and d e lin e a tio n o f the in n e r p o ssib ility o f m etaphysics, th a t is, the
223_______________
N ote to Pages 10-24

concrete d e te rm in a tio n o f its essence. A ll d e te rm in a tio n o f essence, however, is firs t


achieved in th e setting-free o f th e essential g ro u n d .
Laying th e g round as th e p ro je c tio n o f th e in n e r p o ssib ility o f m etaphysics is thus
necessarily a m atter o f le ttin g th e su p p o rtin g pow er o f th e already-laid g ro u n d becom e
operative. W hether and how th is takes place is th e c rite rio n o f the o rig in a lity and scope
o f a g round-laying.” M a rtin H eidegger, K ant and the Problem o f Metaphysics, 1.

18. Jacques D e rrid a , “S tru c tu re , Sign and Play in th e Discourse o f th e H um an Sciences,”


in W riting and Difference, trans. A la n Bass (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978),
278-294, 278.

19. “ In a rch ite ctu re the c h ie f p o in t is a ce rta in use o f the artisd c o b je ct to w h ich , as th e
c o n d itio n , the aesthetic ideas are lim ite d . . . a d a ptio n o f th e p ro d u ct to a p a rtic u la r use
is th e essential elem ent in a work o f architecture.” Im m a n u e l K a n t, The Critique o fJudgement,
trans. James Creed M e re d ith (L o n d o n : O x fo rd U n ive rsity Press, 1952), 186.

20. Ib id ., 188.

21. “M uch m ig h t be added to a b u ild in g th a t w o uld im m e d ia te ly please the eye, were it


n o t inte n de d fo r a ch u rch .” Ib id ., 73.

22. Jacques D e rrid a , “F orce and S ig n ific a tio n ,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a ,
W riting and Difference (C hicago: U niversity o f C hicago Press, 1978), 3 -3 0 , 17. T he essay
goes on to argue th a t m e ta p h o r “is th e essential w e ig h t w h ich anchors discourse in
m etaphysics.”

23. Ib id ., 16.

24. Ib id ., 5.

25. Ib id ., 15.

26. Jacques D e rrid a , “W h ite M ythology: M etaphor in th e T e xt o f P hilosophy,” trans. A la n


Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press,
1982), 207-271, 224.

27. Some o f th e m u ltip le co m p lica tio n s th is u n iq u e status produces can be seen when
D e rrid a invokes the a rc h ite c tu ra l “m eta p h o r” to describe his sustained a tte m p t to un d er­
m in e the d istin ctio n betw een th e conceptual system o f p h ilo so p hy and its m etaphors: “I
try to deconstruct the o p p o s itio n between concept and m eta p h o r and to re b u ild , to
re stru ctu re th is fie ld .” Jacques D e rrid a , ‘Jacques D e rrid a on R h e to ric and C om position:
A C onversation,” in te rvie w w ith G ary A . O lson, Journal o f Advanced Composition, 10, 1990,
1-21. 16. D econstruction redeploys and underm ines the im age o f a rch ite ctu re th a t,
am ong so m any other th in g s, subordinates th a t ve ry im age o f a rch ite ctu re .

28. Jacques D e rrid a , “L e tte r to a Japanese F rie n d ,” 1.

29. ‘W ith th is problem o f tra n sla tio n we w ill thus be d e a lin g w ith n o th in g less than th e
pro b le m o f the very passage in to p h ilosophy.” Jacques D e rrid a . “P la to ’s Pharm acy,” trans.
Barbara Johnson, in Jacques D e rrid a , Dissemination (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press,
1981), 61-172, 72.

30. “ H ad th e ir enterprise succeeded, th e universal tongue w ould have been a p a rtic u la r


language im posed by vio le n ce , by fo rce , by v io le n t hegem ony over th e rest o f th e w o rld .
224_______________
N ote to Pages 24-38

I t w o u ld n o t have been a universal language— fo r exam ple in the L e ib n izia n sense— a


tran sp a ren t language to w h ich everyone w ould have had access.” Jacques D e rrid a ,
“R oundtable o n T ra n sla tio n ,” trans. Peggy Kam uf, in C h ristie V. M cD onald, ed., The Ear
o f the Other: Otobiography, Transference, Translation (New York: Schocken Books, 1985),
91-162, 101. O n th e v io le n t im p o sitio n o f language, see also Jacques D e rrid a , “Languages
and th e In s titu tio n s o f P hilosophy,” trans. Sylvia S o d e rlin d e t al., Recherche et Semiotique/Se­
m iotic Inquiry, vo l. 4, no. 2, 1984, 91-154.

31. Jacques D e rrid a , “R oundtable on T ra n sla tio n ,” 102.

32. Tacques D e rrid a , “A rch ite ctu re W here the Desire M ay L ive ,” Domus, vo l. 671, 1986,
17-25, 25.

33. Jacques D e rrid a . “ ‘Genesis and S tructure* and Phenom enology,” trans. A la n Bass, in
Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978),
154-168, 155.

34. Jacques D e rrid a , “Des Tours de B abel,” 184.

35. Ib id ., 182.

36. Jacques D e rrid a , “D eco n stru ctio n in A m erica: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,”
in te rvie w w ith lam es C reech, Peggy Kam uf, and la n e T odd, C ritical Exchange, no. 17,
W in te r 1985, 1-3 3 , 13.

37. “ [I]n spite o f appearances, d e co n stru ctio n is n e ith e r an analysis n o r a critique and its
tra n sla tio n w o u ld have to take th a t in to con sid e ra tio n . I t is n o t an analysis in p a rtic u la r
because the d ism a n tlin g o f a stru ctu re is n o t a regression tow ard a simple element, tow ard
an indissoluble origin. These values, lik e th a t o f analysis, are them selves philosophem es
subject to d e co n stru ctio n .” Jacques D e rrid a , “L e tte r to a Japanese F rie n d ,” 3.

38. Jacques D e rrid a , “Des Tours de B abel,” 165.

39. Jacques D e rrid a , “O n Colleges and P hilosophy,” in te rvie w w ith G e o ff B e n n in g to n,


ICA Documents 4: Postmodernism, 1986, 66-71, 70.

U n b u ild in g A rchitecture

1. Jacques D e rrid a , “ D iffe re n ce ,” trans. A la n Bass in Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy


(C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1982), 1-27, 21.

2. Jacques D e rrid a , “L im ite d In c ., a b c . . . ,” trans. Sam uel Weber, in Jacques D e rrid a ,


Lim ited Inc. (Evanston: N orthw estern U n ive rsity Press, 1988), 34.

3. Jacques D e rrid a , “A rch ite ctu re W here th e Desire M ay L ive ,” 18.

4. M a rtin H eidegger, What Is a Thing? trans. W. B. B a rto n and Vera Deutsch (C hicago:
H e n ry R egnery Com pany, 1967), 118-121.

5. Ib id ., 123.

6. M a rtin H eidegger, The Basic Problems o f Phenomenology, trans. A lb e rt H o fsta dte r (B loom ­
in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive rsity Press, 1982), 22.
225_______________
N ote to Pages 38-40

7. Ib id .

8. “P hilosophy can be characterized o n ly fro m and in h isto rica l re co lle ctio n . B ut th is


re co lle ctio n is only w h a t it is, is o n ly liv in g , in th e m om ent o f self-understanding, and
th a t means in one’s ow n fre e , p ro d u ctive grasp o f th e task h a rb o re d in philosophy. T he
ways o f h isto rica l re co lle ctio n and o f re fle c tio n on th e present are n o t two ways, b u t are
b o th essential elem ents o f every way tow ard the idea o f philosophy. T h is idea is to be
d e fin ed n o t by o u r devising, say, a so-called m od e rn n o tio n o f philosophy, so th a t we may
th e n co n su lt the h isto ry o f p h ilo so p h y in retro sp e ct to fin d o u t w hat has already been
th o u g h t and in tim a te d o f o u r idea and w hat has n o t. N o r is it an a p p ro p ria te procedure
fo r us to p ick o u t a p h ilo so p h y fro m history, be it th e p h ilo so p hy o f P lato o r A ris to tle ,
o r o f L e ib n iz o r Kant, and sim p ly in s ta ll ourselves in it as in th e presum ptive tru th , in
o rd e r then to ta ilo r and supplem ent it, as it were, fo r m odern needs. T he re is n o t a
h isto rica l d e fin itio n o f p h ilo so p h y and n e xt to it a so-called system atic d e fin itio n , n o r
conversely. . . . the d is tin c tio n is spurious and m ust be e lim in a te d .” M a rtin H eidegger,
The Metaphysical Foundations o f Logic, 8.

9. “B u t th is d e stru ctio n is ju s t as fa r fro m having th e negative sense o f shaking o ff the


o n to lo g ica l tra d itio n . We m ust, on the contrary, stake o u t th e p o sitive p ossibilities o f th a t
tra d itio n , and this always m eans keeping it w ith in its lim its . . .” M a rtin Heidegger, Being
and Time, trans. John M acq u a rrie and Edward R obinson (New Y ork: H a rp e r and Row,
1962), 44.

10. M a rtin Heidegger, A n Introduction to Metaphysics, 93. “We speak o f an abyss where th e
g ro u n d fa lls away and a g ro u n d is la ckin g to us, w here we seek th e g ro u n d and set o u t
to a rrive at a ground, to g e t to th e b o ttom o f so m e th in g .” M a rtin H eidegger, “Language,”
trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter, in M a rtin H eidegger, Poetry, Language, Thought (New York:
H a rpe r and Row, 1971), 187-210, 191.

11. “W hat the p rin c ip le o f reason states in its o rd in a ry fo rm u la tio n has in some fashion
always resounded in W estern th o u g h t. Yet m easured h isto rio g ra p h ica lly, two thousand
three hu n dre d years w ere needed u n til the p rin c ip le o f reason came to lig h t and le t its e lf
be set u p as a fu n da m e n tal p rin c ip le .” M a rtin H eidegger, The Principle o f Reason, 53.

12. Ib id ., 13.

13. Ib id .

14. Ib id ., 100.

15. Ib id ., 9.

16. Ib id ., 13.

17. T his degenerate tra n s la tio n is based on a d egeneration th a t already o ccu rre d w ith in
th e o rig in a l Greek, re q u irin g a re tu rn to a m ore p rim o rd ia l o rig in : “ B u t w ith this L a tin
tra n sla tio n the o rig in a l m eaning o f th e G reek w ord physis is th ru s t aside, the actual
p h ilo so p h ica l force o f th e G reek w ord is destroyed. T h is is tru e n o t o n ly o f the L a tin
tra n sla tio n o f this w ord b u t o f a ll o th e r Rom an tran sla tio n s o f the G reek p h ilo so p h ica l
language. W hat happened in th is tra n sla tio n fro m th e G reek in to the L a tin is n o t
accidental and harm less; it m arks the firs t stage in th e process by w h ich we cu t ourselves
o ff and alienated ourselves fro m th e o rig in a l essence o f G reek philosophy. . . . B u t it
should be said in passing th a t even w ith in G reek p h ilo so p h y a n a rro w in g o f the w ord set
in fo rth w ith , although th e o rig in a l m eaning d id n o t vanish fro m th e experience, know l-
226_______________
N ote to Pages 41-43

edge, and o rie n ta tio n o f G reek ph ilo so p hy.” M a rtin H eidegger, An Introduction to Meta­
physics, 13.

18. “ T he p e rfe c tio n o f technology is o n ly th e echo o f the dem and fo r perfectio, w hich
means, the com pleteness o f a fo u n d a tio n . . . . M od e rn technology pushes tow ard the
greatest possible p e rfe ctio n . P e rfe ction is based on the th o ro u g h g o in g c a lcu la b ility o f
objects. T he ca lc u la b ility o f objects presupposes the u n q u a lifie d v a lid ity o f the principium
rationis. I t is in th is way th a t th e a u th o rity cha ra cte ristic o f the p rin c ip le o f g ro u n d
determ ines th e essence o f the m odern, te ch no lo g ica l age.” M a rtin Heidegger, “ The
P rin cip le o f Reason,” th e 1956 address published in The Principle o f Reason, 117-129, 121.

19. “O n ly w h a t presents its e lf to o u r co g n itio n , o n ly w hat we en-counter such th a t it is


posed and posited in its reasons, counts as som ething w ith secure standing, th a t means,
as an object. O n ly w hat stands in th is m anner is som ething o f w h ich we can, w ith certainty,
say “it is.” O n ly w hat is b ro u g h t to a stand in a fo u n d e d representation counts as a b e in g .”
M a rtin H eidegger, The Principle o f Reason, 27.

20. Ib id ., 49.

21. Ib id ., 51.

22. O f th e w ord “d e co n stru ctio n ,” D e rrid a argues th a t “A m ong o th e r things I wished to


translate and a dapt to my own ends the H eideggerian w ord Destruktion o r Abbau.nJacques
D e rrid a , “L e tte r to a Japanese F rie n d ,” 1.

23. Jacques D e rrid a , “R oundtable on A utobiography,” trans. Peggy Ram uf, in C h ristie V.
M cD onald, ed., The E ar o f the Other: Otobiography, Transference, Translation (New York:
Schocken Books, 1985), 39-90, 86.

24. Jacques D e rrid a . “L e tte r to a Japanese F rie n d ,” 1.

25. “O n th e w o rd ‘d e co n stru ctio n ,’ w h ich in m y m in d was in te n de d to translate a w ord


such as Abbau in H eidegger— Destruktion in H eidegger is n o t a negative w ord e ith e r— it ’s
a m atte r o f g a in in g access to th e m ode in w hich a system o r stru ctu re , o r ensem ble, is
constructed o r co n stitute d , h is to ric a lly speaking. N o t to destroy it, o r dem olish it, n o r to
p u rify it, b u t in o rd e r to accede to its p o ssib ilitie s and its m eaning; to its co n stru ctio n
and its h isto ry.” ‘Jacques D e rrid a in C onversation,” in te rvie w w ith Raul M ortle y in Raul
M ortley, ed., French Philosophers in Conversation: Derrida, Irigary, Levinas, LeDoeuff, Schneider,
Serres (L o n d o n : R outledge, 1990), 92-108, 97.

26. Jacques D e rrid a , “From R estricted to G eneral Econom y: A H egelianism w ith o u t


Reserve,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference (C hicago: U n ive rsity
o f Chicago Press, 1978), 251-277, 260.

27. “B u t we m ust n o t equate such a shaking o f the fo u n d a tio n s [o f a ll o f m an’s th in k in g ]


w ith re vo lu tio n and collapse. The shaking o f th a t w h ich exists may be the way by w hich
an e q u ilib riu m arises, a p o sitio n o f rest such as have never been— because th a t rest, th a t
peace, is already present at th e h e a rt o f the shock.” M a rtin H eidegger, What Is Called
T hinking trans. J. G lenn G ray (New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1968), 65.

28. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, trans. G ayatri C hakravorty Spivak (B a ltim o re : Johns
H o p kin s U n ive rsity Press, 1976), 163.
227_______________
N ote to Pages 43-47

29. Jacques D errida, “Fors: T h e A nguish W ords o f N icolas A braham and M aria T o ro k,”
forew ard to Nicolas A braham and M aria T orok, The W olf M an's M agic Word, trans. N icolas
Rand (M inneapolis: U n ive rsity o f M innesota Press, 1986), x i-x lv iii, x x iii.

30. Jacques D errida, Glas, trans. Jo h n P. Leavy, Jr. and R ichard Rand (L in c o ln : U niversity
o f Nebraska Press, 1986), 200.

31. Ib id ., 110.

32. Jacques D errida, “Force and S ig n ific a tio n ,” 6.

33. Jacques D errida, “ T h e A rt o f M e m o ire s trans. Jo nathan C uller, in Jacques D e rrid a ,


Memoires fo r Paul De M an. (N ew York: C olum bia U n ive rsity Press, 1986), 45-88, 72.

34. Ib id ., 73.

35. Ib id ., 73.

36. “ T he ‘de-’ o f ^ c o n s tru c tio n sig n ifie s n o t the d e m o litio n o f w hat is co n stru ctin g itse lf,
b u t ra th e r w hat rem ains to be th o u g h t beyond th e co n stru ctivist o r d e stru ctio n ist
schem e.” Jacques D e rrid a , “A fte rw o rd : Towards an E th ic o f D iscussion,” trans. Samuel
Weber, in Jacques D e rrid a , Lim ited Inc. (Evanston: N orthw estern U n ive rsity Press, 1988),
111-160, 147.

37. “As a cornerstone, it supports it, however ricke ty it may be, and bring s together a t a
single p o in t a ll its forces and tensions. I t does n o t do th is fro m a ce n tra l com m anding
p o in t, lik e a keystone; b u t it also does it, la te ra lly, in its corner."Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he A rt
o f Memoires,” 74.

38. Jacques D e rrid a , “A rc h ite c tu re W here th e D esire M ay L ive ,” 18.

39. Jacques D errida, “F orce and S ig n ific a tio n ,” 6.

40. “I f deconstruction w ere to fin d its e lf faced w ith some objects, o r an object (I leave
aside fo r the m om ent th e question a b o ut th is w ord and th is concept, because I am n o t
sure th a t deconstruction is concerned w ith som ething lik e an object o r o b je cts), it w ould
n o t be sim ply a co nstructum o r a stru ctu re th a t w o u ld have to be und on e in o rd e r to
uncover its archeological g ro u n d , its o rig in a l fo u n d a tio n (o r as som eone recently p u t it,
w ith a barely disguised and triu m p h a n t ing e n uity, a radical b e g in n in g ). O n th e contrary,
it has been clear from th e b e g in n in g th a t deco nstru ctive q u e stio n in g takes aim at and
against such a fundam ental m ytho-radicology. A t the same tim e , the question bears upon
th e p h ilo so p hica l p ro je c t in so fa r as it req u ire s a fo u n d a tio n , an a rch ite cto n ics and a
systematics . . . [ “Si la d e co n stru ctio n se tro u v a it devant des objets, o u u n object (je laisse
p o u r l ’in sta n t la question de ce m ot et de ce concept, n ’e ta n t pas sur que la deconstruc­
tio n a it a ffa ire a quelque chose com m e u n o u des objets), ce ne se ra it pas seulem ent un
constructum ou une s tru c tu re q u ’il fa u d ra it d e fa ire p o u r degager e n fin son sol archeolo-
gique, son fondem ent o rig in a ire ou, com m e on l*a e c rit recem m ent avec une in g e n u ite
trio m p h a n te e t a peine fe in te , u n com m encem ent radical. II a ete c la ir des le depart, au
co n tra ire , que la mise en q u e stion d e co nstru ctrice p o rte avec insistance sur e t contre une
te lle m ytho-radicologie fo n da m e n tale. D u m em e coup, la question p o rte sur le p ro je t
p h ilo so p h iq u e en ta n t q u ’il exige le fo n de m e n t e t l ’a rch ite cto n iq u e , le syst6m ique . . . ] ”
Jacques D e rrid a , “Ja, o u le fa u x-b o n d ,” Digraphe, 11, M arch 1977, 83-121, 118.

41. “ Une p ra tiq u e d e co nstru ctice q u i ne p o rte ra it pas sur ‘des a ppareils in s titu tio n n e ls
e t des processus h isto riq u e s’ . . . q u i se co n te n te ra it de tra v a ille r sur des philosophem es
228_______________
N ote to Pages 48-52

ou des sig n ifie s conceptuels, des discours, etc., ne serait pas d e co nstru ctrice ; e lle re p ro -
d u ira it, q u e lle que so it son o rig in a lite , le m ouvem ent a u to critiq u e de la p h ilo so p h ic dans
sa tra d itio n in te rn e .” Ib id ., 117.

42. Jacques D e rrid a , “ P arergon,” trans. G e o ff B e n n in g to n and Ian M cLeod, in Jacques


D e rrid a , The T ruth In P ainting (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1987), 15-147, 19.

43. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he P rin cip le o f Reason: T he U n ive rsity in the Eyes o f its P upils,”
trans. C a th e rin e P o rte r and Edward P. M o rris, Diacritics, vo l. 13, no. 3, 1983, 3-2 0 , 3.

44. Ib id ., 16.

45. Jacques D e rrid a , “Languages and In s titu tio n s o f P hilosophy,” 135.

46. Ib id ., 135.

47. “I f those o f us here are aware o f ourselves as b e lo n ging to th e university, th e n we


m ove on the basis u pon w hich th e u n ive rsity its e lf rests. T h a t is the p rin c ip le o f reason.
However, w hat rem ains astounding is th a t we who are here have s till never encountered
the p rin c ip le o f reason . . . I f the u n ive rsity is n o t b u ilt upon a p rin c ip le , then perhaps
it is b u ilt u p o n th a t a bout w hich th e p rin c ip le speaks?” M a rtin H eidegger, The Principle
o f Reason, 28.

48. “U n evenem ent de fo n d a tio n ne p e u t etre sim plem ent com pris dans la lo g iq u e de ce
q u ’il fo n d e .” Jacques D e rrid a , “M ochlos ou le c o n flit des facultes,” Philosophie, 2, A p ril
1984, 21-53, 50.

49. “M ais la responsabilite m in im a le a u jo u rd ’h u i, et en tous cas la plus interessante, la


plus nouvelle, la plus fo rte , p o u r quiconque a p p a rtie n t a une in s titu tio n de recherche
ou d ’enseignem ent, c’est peut-etre de ren d re aussi claires et aussi them atiques que
possible une te lle im p lic a tio n p o litiq u e , son systeme ou ses apories.” Ib id ., 41.

50. “Le lisa n t a u jo u rd ’h u i, je pergois son assurance et sa necessite com m e on p e u t


a d m ire r la rig u e u r d ’u n p la n ou d ’une stru ctu re a travers les breches d ’u n e d ifice
in h a b ita b le e t d o n t on ne saurait d e cid e r s’il est en ru in e s ou s’il n ’a sim plem ent jam ais
existe, n ’ayant ja m ais p u q u ’a b rite r le discours de son inachevem ent.” Ib id ., 30.

51. “ T oute l ’a rch ite cto n iq u e .” Ib id ., 33.

52. See, p a rticu la rly, M a rtin H eidegger, The Essence o f Reasons, trans. T errence M alick
(Evanston: N orthw estern U n ive rsity Press, 1969), 105-111.

53. “U n concept in s titu tio n n e l est en je u .” Jacques D e rrid a , “M ochlos o u le c o n flit des
facultes,” 41.

54. ‘XHertaines in s titu tio n s a rtific ie lle s , d it-il alors, o n t p o u r fo n d e m e n t une idee de la
raison .” Ib id ., 23.

55. “L ’in s titu tio n , ce ne sont pas seulem ent des m urs e t des m urs e t des structures
exterieures q u i e n to u re n t, p ro te g e n t, garantissent ou co n tra ig n e n t la lib e rte de n o tre
tra va il, c’est aussi e t deja la stru ctu re de n o tre in te rp re ta tio n . Des lo rs, si e lle p re te n d a
quelque consequence, ce q u ’on appelle tres vite la d e co nstru ctio n n ’est jam ais u n en­
sem ble te ch niqu e de procedures discursives, encore m oins une nouvelle m ethode her-
m eneutique tra v a illa n t sur des archives ou des enonces a l ’a b ri d ’une in s titu tio n donnee
e t stable; c’est aussi, e t au m oins, une prise de p o sitio n , dans le tra ve il m em e, a l ’egard
229_______________
N ote to Pages 52-54

de structures p o litic o -in s titu tio n n e lle s q u i co n stitu e n t e t re g le n t n o tre p ra tiq u e , nos
com petences e t nos perfom ances. P recisem ent parce q u ’e lle n ’a ja m ais concerne seule-
m en t des contenus de sens, la d e co nstru ctio n d e vra it ne pas e tre separable de cette
p ro b le m a tiq ue p o litic o -in s titu tio n n e lle et re q u e rir u n qu e stion n e m e nt nouveau sur la
responsabilite, un q u e stion n e m e nt q u i ne se fie p lu s necessairem ent aux codes he rite s
d u p o litiq u e ou de l ’ e th iq u e . Ce q u i fa it que, tro p p o litiq u e aux yeux des uns, e lle puisse
p a ra itre dem obilisante aux yeux de ceux q u i ne reconnaissent le p o litiq u e q u ’a l ’aide
des panneaux de sig n a lisa tio n d ’avant la g u e rre .” Ib id , 41.

56. “B u t the available codes fo r ta kin g such a p o litic a l stance are n o t a t a ll adequate to
th e ra d ica lity o f d e co n stru ctio n . A n d the absence o f an adequate p o litic a l code to
translate o r in co rp o ra te th e ra d ica l im p lica tio n s o f d e co n stru ctio n has given m any the
im pression th a t d e co n stru ctio n is opposed to p o litic s , o r is a t best a p o litic a l. B u t th is
im pression o n ly prevails because a ll o f o u r p o litic a l codes and te rm in o lo g ie s s till rem ain
fu n da m e n tally m etaphysical, regardless o f w h e th er they o rig in a te fro m the rig h t o r th e
le ft.” Jacques D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n and th e O th e r,” in R ichard Kearney, ed., Dialogues
m th Contemporary Continental Thinkers (M anchester: M anchester U n ive rsity Press, 1984),
.105-126, 120. “ The signs by w h ich you recognize th a t a discourse is p o litic a l: th a t’s an
enorm ous question, o ne th a t has always m attered to m e. I th in k th a t m y w ork, fro m th a t
p o in t o f view, has always been preoccupied by th e question o f th e p o litic a l, o f w hat was
p o litic a l. A t the same tim e o ne has to avoid le ttin g o n e ’s discourse be ru le d by the signals
th a t are the usual c rite ria on th is subject.” Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e D e rrid e a n View: A n
Inter-view w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” in te rvie w w ith Edw ard M a rx, trans. M ary A n n Caws,
BM 104, vol. 2, no. 1, S e p t 1988, 4 -5 , 5.

57. The p o litic a l th re a t posed by deconstructive discourse is prod u ce d by its displacem ent
o f the co n d itio n o f a rch ite ctu re , a displacem ent th a t transform s th e p o litic a l. W hen
d escribing its analysis o f th e h id d e n assum ptions o n w hich in s titu tio n a l powers “are b u ilt”
D e rrid a argues that “w hat is considered th re a te n in g is n o t a p o litic a lly re vo lu tio n a ry
p o sitio n , if it is expressed in a coded and tra d itio n a l way, rather, it is som ething w h ich
som etim es doesn’t lo o k p o litic a l b u t d isturbs th e tra d itio n a l ways o f reading, u n d e r­
standing, discussing, w ritin g , using rh e to ric , etc.— because th is u nderm ines, o r n o t nec­
essarily underm ines, b u t a t least discovers, w hat was h id d e n in the in s titu tio n .” Jacques
D e rrid a , “Some Q uestions and Responses,” N ig e l Fabb et a l., eds., The Linguistics o f
W riting: Arguments between Language and Literature (M anchester: M anchester U n ive rsity
Press, 1987), 252-264, 256.

58. Jacques D e rrid a , “O n C olleges and P hilosophy,” 69.

59. “Hence the necessity fo r d e co n stru ctio n to deal w ith texts in a d iffe re n t way th a n as
discursive contents, them es o r theses, b u t always as in s titu tio n a l structures, and, as is
com m only said, as b e in g p o litic a l-ju rid ic a l-s o c io h is to ric a l— none o f these last w ords b e in g
re lia b le enough to be used easily, hence th e ir re la tive rare use in the m ost cautious texts
called deconstructive.” Jacques D e rrid a , “Some Statem ents and T ruism s a b o ut N eo-lo-
gisms, Newisms, Postisms, Parasitism s, and O th e r S m all Seism ism s,” trans. A nne T om iche,
in David C a rro ll, ed., The States o f “ Theory”: H istory, A rt and C ritica l Discourse (New York:
C olum bia U niversity Press, 1990), 63-94, 86.

60. Ib id ., 64.

61. Ib id ., 67.

62. Ib id ., 68.

63. Ib id ., 93.
230_______________
N ote to Pages 54-62

64. Ib id ., 88.

65. T h is tre m b lin g m ovem ent th a t founds the stru ctu re o f the u n ive rsity is n o t co n fin ed
to th a t stru ctu re . O n th e co n tra ry, it m arks th a t stru c tu re ’s p a rtic ip a tio n in a ll o f those
in s titu tio n a l structures its walls appear to isolate its e lf fro m : “W hat we c a ll d e co nstru ctio n
is . . . H ow sh a ll I say? Im agine a great earthquake th ro u g h o u t C a lifo rn ia . A n d th e n in
a u n ive rsity som ebody sees a crack appear. W ell, d e co nstru ctio n — d e co nstru ctio n u n d e r
th a t nam e, and in the fo rm o f th e discourses we’ve been re fe rrin g to in th e last few
m inutes— is th e W estern, lite ra ry, p h ilo so p h ica l academ ic fo rm fo r the essential p a rt o f
th is great hum an earthquake w h ich is ro ckin g a ll th e structures o f hum anity. T he lo g ica l,
econom ic, social structures, etc.” Jacques D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n in A m erica: A n In te r­
view W ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” 18.

66. Jacques D e rrid a . “D u T o u t,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , The Post Card: From
Socrates to Freud and Beyond (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1987), 497-521, 508.

67. Ib id ., 519.

68. W hen speaking o f the “ tra n sla tio n ” o f d e co nstru ctio n in A m erica, D e rrid a argues th a t
“I d o n ’t know i f th e re is an o rig in a l o f d e co n stru ctio n ,” th a t, i f a n ything , d e co nstru ctio n
is its e lf already a tra n sla tio n : “ T he w ord ‘d e co n stru ctio n ’ its e lf has a w hole genealogy.
I t ’s an o ld French w ord w hich had fa lle n o u t o f use, th a t I used fo r th e firs t tim e , so to
speak, in th is p a rtic u la r sense. B u t I d id so w ith th e sense th a t I was tra n sla tin g and
d e fo rm in g a w o rd o f F reud’s and a w ord o f H eidegger’s. In H eidegger th e w ord is
‘A bbau,’ as w e ll as ‘D e stru ktio n .’ B u t d e co n stru ctio n is n e ith e r H eidegger’s Abbau n o r
Destruktion, a lth o u g h it is related, n aturally. So already th e ‘firs t use’ o f the w ord decon­
stru c tio n was a s o rt o f d e fo rm in g tra n sla tio n in w h ich the schema o f an o rig in a l re q u irin g
a supplem ent and so fo rth , was m ade to p o in t back towards Abbau and Destruktion.”
Jacques D e rrid a . “D eco n stru ctio n in A m erica: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” 22.

The S lip p e ry A rt o f Space

1. M a rtin H eidegger, “ T he P rin c ip le o f Reason” [th e 1956 address] The Principle o f Reason,
123.

2. M a rtin H eidegger, “ T he O rig in o f the W ork o f A rt,” in Poetry, Language, Thought, trans.
A lb e rt H o fsta d te r (New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1971), 41.

3. Ib id .

4. Ib id , 43.

5. T he G reek tem ple is n e ith e r a repre se n ta tio n o f the g ro u n d n o r even a presentation,


b u t its very p ro d u c tio n : “ T ru th happens in the tem ple’s standing w here it is. T h is does
n o t m ean th a t som ething is co rre ctly represented and rendered there, b u t th a t w hat is
as a w hole is b ro u g h t in to unconcealedness and h e ld th e re in .” Ib id ., 56.

6. M a rtin H eidegger, Nietzsche, Vol. I ll: The W ill to Power as Knowledge and as Metaphysics,
trans. D avid F a rre ll K re ll (San Francisco: H a rp e r and Row, 1987), 143.

7. M a rtin H eidegger, The Principle o f Reason, 49.

8. “Being ‘is* in essence: g ro u n d /re a so n . T h e re fo re b e ing can never firs t have a


g ro u n d /re a so n w hich w o uld supposedly g ro u n d i t . . . B eing ‘is* the abyss in the sense
231_______________
N ote to Pages 63-68

o f such a rem aining-apart o f reason fro m being. To th e e xte n t th a t b e in g as such grounds,


it rem ains groundless.*" Ib id , 51. ‘"Being is in trin s ic a lly g ro u n d like , w hat gives g ro u n d ,
presences as the g ro u n d , has th e character o f g ro u n d . Precisely because it is g ro u n d like ,
g ro u n d g ivin g , it ca n n ot need a g ro u n d . T he g ro u n d lik e is groundless, w hat grounds,
w hat presences as basis does n o t need the g ro u n d ; th a t is, it is w ith o u t som ething to
w hich it co u ld go back as som ething outside o f it, th e re is no lo n g e r any back, no b e h in d
itse lf, b u t p u re presencing its e lf: the p rim o rd ia l.** M a rtin H eidegger, Schelling’s Treatise on
the Essence o f Human Freedom, trans. Joan Stam baugh (Athens: O h io U n ive rsity Press,
1985), 170.

9. M a rtin Heidegger, “ T h e O rig in o f the W ork o f Art,** 20.

10. Ib id ., 41.

11. In these lectures, H e id e g g er defends his assertion o f th e “p riority** o f th e w ord fo r


th e Greeks whereby “p o e tiz in g and th in k in g had the h ig h e st ra n k ” against the tra d itio n a l
view th a t architecture a nd scu lp tu re were o f a “h ig h e r ra n k .” H e argues th a t th is question
o f ran k o n ly emerged w ith th e aesthetic co n ce ptio n o f a rt th a t “com m ences precisely (by
essential necessity) w ith th e in c e p tio n o f m etaphysics” in P lato’s texts and is sustained by
th e everyday “ erroneous” view th a t “A rc h ite c tu re and scu lp tu re use as th e ir m a tte r th e
re la tive ly stable m ate ria l o f w ood, stone, steel. T hey are in d e p e n d e n t o f th e fle e tin g
breath o f the q u ickly fa d in g and, m oreover, am biguous w o rd .” M a rtin H eidegger, Par­
menides, trans. A ndre Schuwer and R ichard Rojcewicz (B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive rsity
Press, 1992), 114-6. A g a in st th is view, he goes on to argue th a t “In d ee d a rch ite ctu re and
scu lp tu re do n o t use th e w o rd as th e ir m atter. B u t how co u ld th e re ever be tem ples o r
statues, e xisting fo r w h a t they are, w ith o u t the word? . . . the circum stance th a t in a
tem ple o r a statue o f A p o llo th e re are no w ords as m ate ria l to be w orked upon and
“fo rm e d ” by no means proves th a t these “w orks,” in w hat they are and how they are, do
n o t s till need the w ord in an essential way. T he essence o f the w ord does n o t a t a ll consist
in its vocal sound, n o r in lo q u a city and noise, and n o t in its m erely te ch n ica l fu n c tio n
in the com m unication o f in fo rm a tio n . T he statue and the tem ple stand in sile n t dialogue
w ith m an in the unconcealed. I f th e re were n o t the silent word, th e n the lo o k in g god as
sig h t o f the statue a n d o f th e features o f its fig u re co u ld never appear. A n d a tem ple
co u ld never, w ith o u t sta n d in g in th e disclosive d o m a in o f the w o rd, present its e lf as th e
house o f a god. The fa c t th a t th e Greeks d id n o t describe and ta lk a b o u t th e ir ‘works o f
a rt’ ‘aesthetically’ bears w itness to th e fa ct th a t these w orks stood w e ll secured in th e
c la rity o f the word, w ith o u t w h ich a co lu m n w o uld n o t be a co lu m n , a tym panum a
tym panum , a frieze a frie ze . . . These ‘works* exist o n ly in th e m edium o f th e w o rd .”
Ib id ., 116. B u t inasm uch as H eidegger assumes th a t th e w o rd is p rio r to a rch ite ctu re , th a t
th e re can be w ord w ith o u t a rch ite ctu re , he has restored th e very sense o f ran k, as w e ll
as the tra d itio n o f m etaphysics, he claim s to resist. A t the same tim e , as he does in “ T he
O rig in o f the W ork o f A rt,” he ta c itly th in ks o f the w ord in a rch ite ctu ra l term s by g ivin g
it a stru c tu rin g role, in th e sense th a t, fo r h im , a rt is “ secured” by th e w ord. T he very
idea o f ran k as a ve rtica l stru ctu re , w hich he a t once em ploys and discredits, is b o und to
th e im age o f a rch ite ctu re he is a tte m p tin g to subordinate. In the end, the “p rio rity ” o f
th e w ord over a rch ite ctu re is n o t established. R ather, it is ra d ica lly com plicated.

12. Jacques D e rrid a , “ R e stitu tio ns o f the T ru th in P o in tin g [p o in tu re ],” trans. G e o ff


B en n in g to n and Ian M cLe o d , in Jacques D e rrid a , The Truth in P a in tin g (C hicago: U n i­
versity o f Chicago Press, 1987), 255-382, 262.

13. Jacques D errida, “P a re rg o n ,” 22.

14. Jacques D e rrid a , “Im p lic a tio n s ,” in te rvie w w ith H e n ri Rose, trans. A la n Bass, in
Jacques D e rrid a , Positions (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1981), 1-14, 10.
232_______________
N ote to Pages 68-70

15. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 15.

16. Ib id ., 44.

17. Ib id ., 24.

18. Ib id ., 98.

19. Ib id ., 196.

20. Ib id ., 166.

21. “ T he id e a l fo rm o f a w ritte n sig n ifie s fo r exam ple, is n o t in the w o rld , and the
d is tin c tio n between the graphem e and th e e m p irica l body o f th e co rre sp o n ding g ra p h ic
sign separates an in sid e fro m an outside, p h enom enological consciousness fro m the
w o rld . A n d th is is tru e fo r every visual o r spatial sig n ifie r. A n d yet every n o n -p h o n ic
s ig n ifie r involves a spatial reference in its very ‘ph e no m e n o n,’ in the phenom enological
(n o n w o rld ly) sphere o f experience in w hich it is given. T he sense o f b e in g ‘o u tsid e,’ ‘in
the w o rld ,’ is an essential com p o n e n t o f its phenom enon. A p p a ren tly th e re is n o th in g
lik e th is in the phenom enon o f speech.” Jacques D e rrid a , Speech and Phenomena: Introduc­
tion to the Problem o f Signs in HusserVs Phenomenology, trans. D avid B. A llis o n (Evanston:
N orthw estern U n ive rsity Press, 1973), 76. “ T h is is w hy h e a rin g o neself speak [s ’entendre
parler] is experienced as an absolutely p u re a u to -a ffe ction , o c cu rrin g in a se lf-p ro xim ity
th a t w o uld in fa c t be th e absolute re d u ctio n o f space in g e n era l.” Ib id ., 79.

22. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 166.

23. Ib id ., 290.

24. Jacques D e rrid a , “P lato’s Pharm acy,” 109.

25. Jacques D e rrid a , Speech and Phenomena: Introduction to the Problem o f Signs in HusserVs

26. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 69. “A voice m ay detach its e lf fro m the body, fro m
the ve ry firs t in s ta n t it m ay cease to belong to i t By w h ich it traces, it is a trace, a spacing,
a w ritin g .” Jacques D e rrid a , “Voice I I . . .,” trans. Verena A n d e rm a tt Conley. Boundary I t
vo l. 12, n o . 2, 1984, 76-93, 79. T h is sense o f “spacing” is precisely opposed to th a t
occasionally em ployed by H eidegger fo r whom “spacing” [Abstand] is o n ly th e spatial
distance between geom etric p o in ts. M a rtin H eidegger, H istory o f the Concept o f Time:
Prolegomena, trans. T he o d o re K isie l (B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive rsity Press, 1985), 228.

27. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 232. “W hether it be lin k e d by its o rig in to the
representations o f th in g s in space o r w hether it rem ains caught in a system o f p h o n ic
diffe re n ce s o r social classifications a pparently released fro m o rd in a ry space, th e p ro p e r­
ness o f th e nam e does n o t escape spacing.” T h e re fo re it m ust be “ situated” Ib id ., 89.

28. Ib id ., 290.

29. “ T h is fissure is n o t one am ong others. I t is the fissure: the necessity o f in te rv a l, the
harsh law o f spacing.” Ib id ., 200,

30. Ib id ., 203.

31. Ib id ., 200. W ritin g is a “cip h e re d spacing,” an “essential spacing” such th a t “S patiali-


zation does n o t surprise the tim e o f speech o r th e id e a lity o f m eaning, it does n o t happen
233_______________
N ote to Pages 71-74

to them lik e an accident. . . . every sym bolic synthesis, even before it fa lls in to a space
‘e x te rio r’ to it, includes w ith in its e lf spacing as d iffe re n c e .” Jacques D e rrid a , “Freud and
th e Scene o f W ritin g ,” tran s. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference (C hicago:
U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1978), 196-231, 219.

32. “A n in te rv a l m ust separate the present fro m w hat it is n o t in o rd e r fo r th e present


to be itse lf, b u t th is in te rv a l th a t constitutes it as present m ust, by the same to ke n, d ivid e
th e present in and o f its e lf, the re b y also d iv id in g , along w ith the present, e ve ryth in g th a t
is th o u g h t on the basis o f th e present, th a t is, in o u r m etaphysical language, every being,
and sin g u la rity substance o r th e subject. In co n s titu tin g its e lf, in d iv id in g its e lf dynam ic
cally, th is in te rva l is w h a t m ig h t be called spacing, . . Jacques D e rrid a , “D iffe ra n ce ,” 13.
T h is spacing is the basis o f D e rrid a ’s quasi co n ce pt o f “d iffe ra n ce ”: “D ifferer in th is sense
is to tem porize . . . th is te m p o riza tio n is also te m p p ra liza tio n and spacing, the becom ­
in g -tim e o f space and becom ing-space o f tim e T he o th e r sense o f d iffe re r. . . is a
question o f d issim ilar otherness o r o f a lle rg ic and p o le m ica l otherness, an in te rv a l, a
distance, spacing m ust be p ro d u ce d between the elem ents other, and be produced w ith
a ce rta in perseverance in re p e titio n .. . . Differance as te m p o riza tio n , differance as spacing.”
Ib id ., 8.

33. Jacques D errida, O f Grammatology, 201.

34. Ib id ., 280.

35. Ib id ., 160.

36. Jacques D e rrid a , “D esistance,” trans. C h risto p h e r Fynsk, in tro d u c tio n to C h risto p h e r
Fynsk, ed., Typography: Mimesis, Philosophy, Politics (C am bridge: H a rva rd U n ive rsity Press,
1989), 1-42, 32-33.

37. Jacques D errida, “D e co n stru ctio n and the O th e r,” 109.

38. Jacques D errida, “S em iology and G ram m atology,” 27.

39. Jacques D e rrid a , “ P o sitio n s,” in te rvie w w ith Jean-Louis H o u d e bine and Guy Scarpetta,
trans. A la n Bass, In Jacques D e rrid a , Positions (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press,
1981), 37-96, 106.

40. Ib id ., 81.

41. Ib id ., 94. “Since the trace is th e in tim a te re la tio n o f th e liv in g present w ith its outside,
th e openness upon e x te rio rity in general, u p o n th e sphere o f w hat is n o t ‘o ne’s ow n,’
etc. the temporaUzation o f sense is, from the outset, a *spacing. ’ As soon as we a d m it spacing
b o th as ‘in te rv a l’ or d iffe re n c e and as openness u p o n th e outside, th e re can n o lo n g e r
be any absolute inside, fo r th e ‘outside* has in sin u a ted its e lf in to th e m ovem ent by w h ich
th e in sid e o f th e n o n spa tia l, w h ich is ca lle d ‘ tim e ,’ appears, is co n stitu te d , is ‘presented.’
Space is ‘in ’ tim e .” Jacques D e rrid a , Speech and Phenomena: Introduction to the Problem o f
Signs in Husserls Phenomenology, 86.

42. “Le to u t sans nouveaute / q u ’u n espacem ent / de la le c tu re .” Jacques D e rrid a , W riting


and Difference (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978), v. T he c ita tio n is fro m M al-
la rm e ’s preface to Un Coup de des.

43. “I t is evident that th e co n ce p t o f spacing, by its e lf, ca n n o t account fo r anything, any


m ore th a n any o th er c o n c e p t I t ca n n o t a cco u nt fo r th e d iffe re n ce s— the d iffe re n t
things— between w hich is opened th e spacing w h ich nevertheless d e lim its them . B u t it
w ould be to accord a th e o lo g ic a l fu n c tio n to th is co n ce pt to expect it to be an e xp lica tin g
234______________
N ote to Pages 74-76

p rin c ip le o f a ll determ ined spaces, o f a ll d iffe re n t things. Spacing ce rta in ly operates in


a ll fie ld s, b u t precisely as d iffe re n t fie ld s. A n d its o p e ra tio n is d iffe re n t each tim e,
a rticu la te d otherw ise.” Jacques D e rrid a , “P ositions,” 81. “O f course, i f I had o n ly endlessly
repeated the unique w ord spacing, you w ould be com pletely rig h t. B u t I have no less
insisted on the other and on several others. Spacing also sig n ifie s, precisely, the im possi­
b ility o f reducing the chain to one o f its lin ks o r o f absolutely p riv ile g in g one— o r the
o th e r.” Ib id ., 107.

44. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 101.

45. “We have now been b ro u g h t q u ite n a tu ra lly to th e pro b le m o f the composition o f the
Essay: n o t o n ly o f the tim e o f its w ritin g , b u t o f th e space o f its structu re . Rousseau d ivid e d
it in to chapters belatedly. W hat scheme guided him ? T he a rch ite ctu re m ust fin d its
ju s tific a tio n in the deep in te n tio n o f the Essay I t is fo r th a t reason th a t it interests us. Yet
we m ust n o t confound the m eaning o f th e a rch ite ctu re w ith th e declared in te n tio n o f
the w o rk.” Ib id ., 195.

46. Ib id ., 216.

47. D e rrid a looks, fo r exam ple, a t the “spacings” o f the preface (“A ce rta in spacing
between concept and being-there, between concept and existence, between th o u g h t and
tim e, w ould thus co n stitute the ra th e r u n q u a lifia b le lo d g in g o f th e preface.” [Jacques
D e rrid a , “O utw ork, P refacing,” trans. Barbara Johnson, in Jacques D e rrid a , Dissemination
(C hicago: U niversity o f Chicago Press, 1981), 1-59, 1 2 .]), the m argins (w hich produce
both “ the in e q u a lity o f the in te rn a l spacings” o f the “space” o f p h ilo so p hy and the
apparent “re g u la rity o f its bord e rs.” [Jacques D e rrid a , “ Tym phan,” trans. A la n Bass, in
Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1982),
ix-xxix, x x iv ]), and th e title (Jacques D e rrid a , “ T itle (To Be S p e cifie d ),” trans. Tom
Conley, Sub-Stance, 31, 1981, 5 -2 2 .).

48. “H eidegger seems alm ost never to speak about sexuality o r sexual d iffe re n ce . A n d he
seems alm ost never to speak a b o u t psychoanalysis, give o r take an occasional negative
a llu sio n . T his is n e ith e r negligence n o r om ission. T h e pauses com ing fro m his silence
on these questions p unctuate o r create the spacing o u t o f a p o w e rfu l discourse.” Jacques
D e rrid a , “C horeographies,” trans. C h ristie V. M cD onald, Diacritics, vo l. 12, no. 2, 1982,
66-76, 74.

49. Jacques D e rrid a , “M alla rm e ,” trans. C h ristin e R oulston, in D erek A ttrid g e , ed., Acts
o f Literature (New York: R outledge, 1992), 110-126, 120.

50. Ib id ., 116. “F or exam ple, th e sign blanc (‘w h ite ,’ ‘b la n k,’ ‘space’ ), w ith a ll th a t is
associated w ith it fro m one th in g to the next, is a huge rese rvo ir o f m eaning . . . I t
perm eates M a lla rm e ’s e n tire te x t . . . A n d yet, the w h ite also m arks, th ro u g h the in te r­
m ediary o f the w h ite page, the place o f the w ritin g o f those ‘w hites’; and firs t o f a ll the
spacing between the d iffe re n t sig n ifica tio n s (th a t o f w h ite am ong o th ers), the spacing o f
reading.” Ib id ., 115.

51. Jacques D e rrid a , “Ce que j ’aurais d it . . . ,” in Le complexe de Leonard ou la Societe de


creation (Paris: E d itio n s de N ouvel O bservateur, 1984) 77-92, 92.

52. W hen D e rrid a elaborates G enet’s d e scrip tio n o f th e newspaper re p o rt o f a tria l ( “o n ly


ten lines, w idely enough spaced to le t the a ir circu la te between the o ver-violent w ords” ),
he argues th a t “ In w ritin g ’s spacing, d u rin g the tria l o f th e n a rra tive [re cit], th e ve rtica l
lin e s (ne cktie , ra in , glaive, cane o r u m b re lla tip [ eperon]) cu t th e h o rizo n ta l lin e s o f the
newspaper o r th e b ook, o f the w ings o r the spokes o f the u m b re lla . Language cuts,
235_______________
N ote to Pages 76-84

decollates, unglues, decapitates. T he sentences c o il a ro u n d a d ire c tio n lik e lia n a along a


tru n ca te d co lu m n .” Jacques D e rrid a , Glas, 74.

53. Ib id ., 75.

54. “ Two unequal colum ns, they say distyle [disent-ils], each o f w h ich — envelop(e) (s) o r
sheath(es), in ca lcu la b ly reverses, tu rn s in sid e o u t, replaces, rem arks [recoupe] d ie o th e r.”
Jacques D e rrid a , Ib id ., 1. W hen D e rrid a w rites a b o ut th e tran sla tio n o f Glas in to E nglish,
he elaborates th is play th a t b in d s te x t to a rch ite ctu re w h ile a rg u in g th a t the status o f the
tra n sla tio n can never be secured fo r speakers o f e ith e r language: “N o t fo r th is a t once
triv ia l and false reason, th a t b o th w o u ld be im p riso n e d in the house o f th e ir ow n tongue,
as i f in a house in the fo rm o f a closed cylin d e r they co u ld n o t go o u t o f in o rd e r to go
ro u n d [fa ire le tour], fro m one tu rn (o f phrase) [d ’un tour] o r tow er [d ’une tour] to the
o th er, in o rd e r to see w h a t is heard fro m th e n e ig h b o rin g cylin d e r. N ow th is book presents
itse lf as a volum e o f c y lin d ric colum ns, w rites on p ie rce d , in cru ste d , breached, tattooed
c y lin d ric colum ns, on them th e n , b u t also around them , against them , between them th a t
are, th ro u g h and th ro u g h , tongue and te xt. Kulindros always names a ro u n d body, a
conveyor ro lle r fo r d isp la cin g stones, fo r exam ple in the co n stru ctio n o f m onum ents,
pyram ids, o r obelisks, o f o th e r colum ns . . . K ulindros is also occasionally a ro lle d m anu­
scrip t, a parchm ent scro ll. So one is never enclosed in th e co lu m n o f one single to n gu e .”
Jacques D e rrid a , “Proverb: ‘H e th a t w o u ld p u n tra n s.Jo h n P. Leavy,Jr. in John P.
Leavy,Jr., Glossary (L in c o ln : U n ive rsity o f Nebraska Press, 1986), 17-21, 17.

55. Jacques D e rrida, “Im p lic a tio n s ,” 14.

56. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e P it a nd the Pyram id: In tro d u c tio n to H e g e l’s Sem iology,” trans.
A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press,
1982), 69-108, 105.

57. Ib id ., 94.

58. D e rrid a describes each o f th e ch a in o f term s he coins as having th e “ strange status”


o f “an aconceptual co n ce pt o r a n o th e r k in d o f concept, heterogeneous to th e p h ilo so p h i­
cal concept o f the concept, a “co n ce p t” th a t m arks b o th th e p o ssib ility and th e lim it o f
a ll id e a liza tio n and hence o f a ll co n ce p tu a liza tio n .” Jacques D e rrid a , “A fte rw o rd : Toward
an E th ic o f Discussion,” 118.

59. Jacques D errida, “ H ow to A vo id Speaking: D e n ia ls,” trans. Ken F rieden; S andford


B u d ick and W olfgang Iser, eds., Languages o f the Unsayable: The Play o f Negativity in Literature
and Literary Theory (New Y ork: C o lu m bia U n ive rsity Press, 1989), 3 -7 0 , 27.

60. O n th e “space o f th e classroom ” and “a u d ito riu m ,” see M ard n H eidegger, What Is a
Thing?, 18-19; M a rtin H eidegger, H istory o f the Concept o f Time, 157-158; and M a rtin
H eidegger, The Basic Problems o f Phenomenology, 162-164.

61. Im m anuel K ant, The C ritique o f Judgement, 68.

62. Ib id ., 67.

63. Jacques D e rrida, “P a re rg o n ,” 59.

64. Jacques D e rrida, O f Grammatology, 245.

65. Ib id ., 167.
236_______________
N ote to Pages 85-94

66. By no coincidence, the supplem ent in O f Grammatobgy is th e “keystone . . . destined


to re co n stitu te N a tu re ’s e d ifice .” Ib id ., 145.

67. See M ark W igley, “A rch ite ctu re a fte r P hilosophy: Le C orbusier and th e E m p e ro r’s
New P a in t,” Jo u rn a l o f Philosophy and the Visual Arts, no. 2, 1990, 84-95.

68. Jacques D e rrid a , “P arergon,” 49.

69. Ib id ., 59.

70. Im m a n u e l K ant, The Critique o f Judgment, 5.

71. Ib id ., 159.

72. Jacques D e rrid a , “ P arergon,” 39.

73. Im m a n u e l K ant, The Critique o fJudgement, P art II, 33.

74. Ib id ., P art I, 185.

75. Ib id ., 160.

76. Ib id ., P art I I , 67.

77. Jacques D e rrid a , “P arergon,” 40.

78. M a rtin H eidegger, “B u ild in g , D w e llin g , T h in k in g ,” 159.

79. T he te xt, w h ich at one p o in ts exam ines and d iscred its th e com m on association
between th e stru ctu re o f scholastic p h ilo so p hy and th a t o f g o th ic cathedrals, addresses
a t le n g th the “a rc h ite c to n ic ” idea o f p h ilo so p h ica l “system” { “ the task o f p h ilo so p hy” ) as
a b u ild in g , b e fore co n clu d in g by d escribing “co n stru ctio n as know ledge.” In so d o in g ,
he locates p h ilo so p h y in the “uneasy” dom ain between “ the in n e r jo in tu re g ivin g things
th e ir fo u n d a tio n and su p p o rt” and “m ere e xte rn a l m a n ip u la tio n .” H e describes the
endless slippage between these poles: “ T h is fa ct p o in ts o u t th a t th is in n e r p o ssib ility o f
w avering between jo in tu re and m a n ip u la tio n and fram ew ork always belongs to system,
th a t every g e n uine system always rem ains threatened by the de clin e in to w hat is spurious,
th a t every spurious system can always give th e appearance o f being g e n uine .” M a rtin
H eidegger, Schelling’s Treatise on the Essence o f Hum an Freedom, 26 “ T h is s trife between
freedom as the b e g in n in g w hich needs no g ro u n d and system as a closed fo u n d a tio n a l
co n te xt is, u nderstood correcdy, the in m ost m otive and law o f m o tio n o f p h ilo so p hy itse lf.
N o t o n ly the o b je ct, b u t the state o f p h ilosophy.” Ib id ., 62.

80. Jacques D e rrid a , “ R estitutions o f the T ru th in P o in tin g ,” 288.

81. J b id ., 290.

82. N ote how D e rrid a argues th a t the un ive rsity is “b u ilt” on the id e a l o f tra n sla tio n
(Jacques D e rrid a , “L ivin g O n: Border Lines,” 93-94) in the same way th a t he argues th a t
it is “b u ilt” on th e id e a l o f ground-as-support (Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he P rin c ip le o f Reason:
T he U n ive rsity in the Eyes o f Reason.” ).

83. “ Beneath [em phasis added] the seem ingly lite ra l and thus fa ith fu l tra n sla tio n th e re is
concealed, rath e r, a translation o f G reek experience in to a d iffe re n t way o f th in k in g . . .
without a corresponding equally authentic experience o f what they say . . . T he rootlessness o f
237________________
N ote to Pages 94-102

W estern th o u g h t begins w ith th is tra n s la tio n .” M a rtin H eidegger, “ T he O rig in o f th e


W ork o f A rt,” 23. “We are n o t m ere ly ta kin g refuge in a m ore lite ra l tra n sla tio n o f a G reek
w ord. We are re m in d in g ourselves o f w hat, u n e xperienced and u n th o u g h t, underlies o u r
fa m ilia r and therefore o u tw o rn n a tu re o f tru th in th e sense o f correctness.” Ib id ., 52
[em phasis added].

84. Jacques D e rrida, “R e stitu tio n s o f th e T ru th in P o in tin g ,” 290.

The D om estication o f the House

1. M a rtin Heidegger, “L e tte r o n H um anism ,” trans. D avid F a rre ll K re ll, in M a rtin Heideg­
ger: Basic W ritings (New Y ork: H a rp e r and Row, 1977), 193-242, 193.

2. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Ousia and Gramme: N ote on a N ote fro m Being and Tim e” trans. A lan
Bass, in M argins o f Philosophy (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1982), 29-68, 48.

3. Jacques D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n and the O th e r,” 109.

4. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e R etrait o f M etaphor,” trans. by e d ito rs, E nclitic, vo l. 2, no. 2,


1978, 5-3 4 , 12.

5. Jacques D e rrid a , “P o sitio n s,” 54.

6. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e Ends o f M an ,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f


Philosophy (Chicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1982), 109-136, 130.

7. Ib id ., 135.

8. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 22.

9. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e R etrait o f M etaphor,” 25. “ T h is h e a rth is the h e a rt o f a ll


m eta p h o ricity.” Jacques D e rrid a , “P lato’s Pharm acy,” 88.

10. Jacques D errida, “ L e fa c te u r de la ve rite ,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , The


Postcard: From Socrates to Freud and Beyond, (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1987),
411—496, 441.

11. Jacques D errida, Glas, 134.

12. Jacques D errida, “ T h e Ends o f M an,” 129.

13. A p p ro p ria tio n is “p o e tiz in g b u ild in g .” M a rtin H eidegger. “O vercom ing M etaphysics,”
trans. Joan Stam baugh, in M a rtin H eidegger, The End o f Philosophy (New York: H a rp e r
and Row, 1973) , 8 4 -1 1 0 ,1 1 0. “A p p ro p ria tio n assembles the design o f Saying and u n fo ld s
it in to the structu re o f m a n ifo ld show ing----- A p p ro p ria tio n grants to m orta ls th e ir abode
w ith in th e ir nature, so th a t th e y m ay be capable o f b e in g those w ho speak.” Ib id , 128.
“In the event o f a p p ro p ria tio n vibrates the active n a tu re o f w hat speaks as language, w hich
a t one tim e was called th e house o f b e in g .” M a rtin H eidegger, Identity and Difference, trans.
Joan Stam baugh (H a rp e r and Row, New Y ork, 1969), 39.

14. To cite b u t one o f th e m u ltip le exam ples o f th is association: Language “is th e keeper
o f being present, in th a t its co m ing to lig h t rem ains e n tru ste d to th e a p p ro p ria tin g show
o f Saying. Language is th e house o f B eing because language, as Saying, is th e m ode o f
238_________________
N ote to Pages 102-107

A p p ro p ria tio n .” M a rtin H eidegger. “ T he Way to Language,” trans. Peter D. H e rtz, In


M a rtin H eidegger, On the Way to Language (New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1971), 111-136,
135.

15. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he Retrait o f M etaphor,” 7. D e rrid a everyw here attem pts to
“explode” th e o p p o sitio n between the m etaphoric and th e proper. See p a rticu la rly,
“W h ite M ythology: M etaphor in th e T ext o f P hilosophy,” 217.

16. Ib id ., 253.

17. M a rsilio F icin o , “C om m entary o n th e Sym posium ,” chapter 5, cite d in E rin Panofsky,
Idea: A Concept in A rt Theory (New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1968), 137.

18. M a rtin H eidegger, “ T he Q uestion C o n ce rn in g Technology,” trans. D avid F a rre ll K re ll,


M a rtin Heidegger: Basic W ritings (N ew York: H a rp e r and Row, 1977), 283-317, 294.

19. Jacques D e rrid a , “ P lato’s Pharm acy,” 103.

20. Jacques D e rrid a , “Freud and th e Scene o f W ritin g ,” 215.

21. Jacques D e rrid a , “V iolence and M etaphysics: A n Essay on the T h o u g h t o f E m m anuel


Levinas,” 113.

22. Ib id ., 112.

23. M a rtin H eidegger, Being and Time, 209. “B o th D asein’s in te rp re ta tio n o f its e lf and the
w hole stock o f sig n ifica tio n s w h ich b e lo n g to language in general are d o m inated th ro u g h
and th ro u g h by ‘spatial representations’ .” Ib id ., 421. D e rrid a also refers to th is argum ent
when he says “language can d e term in e things o n ly by sp a tia lizin g them ."Jacques D e rrid a ,
“Force and S ig n ific a tio n ,” 16.

24. Jacques D e rrid a , “G eschlecht: Sexual D iffe re n ce , O n to lo g ica l D iffe re n ce ,” Research in


Phenomenology, X III, 1983, 65-84, 78.

25. Jacques D e rrid a , “ P lato’s Pharm acy,” 144.

26. Ib id ., 124.

27. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Tym pam ,” x v ii.

28. Jacques D e rrid a , “La Parole S o u ffle e ,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , W riting
and Difference (C hicago: U niversity o f C hicago Press, 1978), 169-195, 192.

29. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 157.

30. Jacques D e rrid a , “E ntre crochets: e n tre tie n avec Jacques D e rrid a , pre m ie re p a rtie ,”
Digraphe 8, A p ril 1976, 97-114.

31. “ T h is p h ilo so p h ica l, d ia le ctica l m astery . . . is constantly p u t in to question by a fa m ily


scene th a t co n stitute s and un d erm in e s a t once the passage between th e pharm acy and
th e house. “P latonism ” is b o th th e general rehearsal o f th is fa m ily scene and th e m ost
p o w e rfu l e ffo rt to m aster it, to p re ve n t anyone’s ever h e a rin g o f it, to conceal it by
d raw ing the cu rta in s over the daw ning o f th e W est.” Jacques D e rrid a , “P la to ’s Pharm acy,”
167.
239_________________
N ote to Pages 107-109

32. Ib id .

33. Jacques D errida, “D e co n stru ctio n and the O th e r,” 117.

34. Sigm und Freud, “ T h e U ncanny,” The Standard Edition, vo l. 17, 217-56, 222.

35. Jacques D errida, “D o u b le Session,” trans. B arbara Johnson, in Jacques D e rrid a , Dis­
semination (Chicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1981), 173-285, 220.

36. T his becomes p a rtic u la rly s trik in g in D e rrid a ’s “Le fa cte u r de la v e rite ,” w hich notes
th a t Lacan’s w ork never addresses F reud’s essay on “ T he U ncanny” and th a t it systemati­
ca lly resists uncanny e ffe cts in o rd e r to establish a p a rtic u la r conceptual order. D e rrid a ’s
essay, w h ile id e n tifyin g th e sp ecific uncanny effects effaced by one o f Lacan’s essays and
o b liq u e ly com paring th e way in w h ich th a t essay bases a psychoanalytic th e o ry on a
reading o f a w ork o f fic tio n to the way F re u d ’s essay does the same th in g , never its e lf
addresses F reud’s te xt d ire ctly. Even D e rrid a ’s o n ly c ita tio n o f the te x t, in “C artouches,”
is b rie f, o n ly a cita tio n o f F re u d ’s c ita tio n , and p u n ctu a te d by a p a re n th e tica l d e fe rra l
( “it w ould a ll need to be q u o te d ” ), w hich p o in ts to the necessity o f fu rth e r cita tio n s th a t
are n o t m ade: “A t the end o f Das Unheimliche ( it w ould a ll need to be quo te d , as w ith th e
choice o f the caskets), F reud recalls N estroy’s Der Zerrissene; the m an w ho takes h im se lf
to be a m urd e re r lifts u p ( aufhebt) the cover o f each tra p and sees rise u p each tim e the
supposed ghost (vermeintliche Gespenst) o f the v ic tim . H e is scared: ‘b u t I o n ly k ille d one
o f th e m !” ’ Jacques D e rrid a , “C artouches,” trans. G e o ff B en n in g to n and Ian M cLeod, in
Jacques D e rrid a , The T ru th in P a in tin g (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1987),
183-253, 217.

37. Jacques D e rrida, “L iv in g O n : Border Lines," 121.

38. Jacques D errida, O f Grammatobgy, 313.

39. M a rtin Heidegger, Being and Time, 321.

40. “Indeed, w hat threatens in th is in d e fin ite way is now q u ite near and can be so close
th a t it is oppressive. I t can be so near and yet n o t present as th is o r th a t, n o t som ething
fe a rfu l, som ething to be feared by way o f a d e fin ite reference o f the e n viro n in g w o rld in
its m eaningfulness. D read can ‘b e fa ll’ us rig h t in th e m id st o f the m ost fa m ilia r e n viro n ­
m ent. O ftentim es it does n o t even have to involve th e phenom enon o f darkness o r o f
being alone w hich fre q u e n tly accom panies dread. We then say: one feels uncanny. O ne
no lo n g e r feels at hom e in his m ost fa m ilia r e n viro n m e n t, th e one closest to h im ; b u t
th is does n o t come a b o ut in such a way th a t a d e fin ite re g io n in th e h ith e rto know n and
fa m ilia r w o rld breaks dow n in its o rie n ta tio n , n o r such th a t one is n o t a t hom e in th e
su rro u n d in gs in w hich one now fin d s him self, b u t instead in o th e r su rro u n d in gs. O n the
co n tra ry, in dread, b e in g -in -th e-w o rld is to ta lly tran sfo rm e d in to a ‘n o t a t hom e’ p u re ly
and sim ply.” M a rtin H eidegger, H istory o f the Concept o f Time, 289.

41. “Uncanniness is the basic k in d o f B ein g -in -th e -w orld , even th o u g h in an everyday way,
it has been covered u p .” M a rtin H eidegger, Being and Time, 322.

42. H eidegger’s 1942-43 le ctu re s on Parm enides elaborate his specific use o f th e w ord
uncanny in the m ost d e ta il: “B u t w here, on the co n tra ry, B eing comes in to focus, th e re
th e e xtra o rd in a ry announces its e lf, th e excessive th a t strays ‘beyond’ th e o rd in a ry, th a t
w hich is n o t to be e xp la in e d by explanations on th e basis o f beings. T h is is the uncanny,
lite ra lly understood and n o t in th e otherw ise usual sense acco rd in g to w h ich it ra th e r
means the im m ense and w h a t has never yet been. F o r th e uncanny, co rre ctly understood.
240_________________
N ote to Pages 109-111

is n e ith e r im m ense n o r tiny, since it is n o t to be m easured a t a ll w ith the m easure o f a


so-called ‘sta n da rd .’ T he uncanny is also n o t w hat has never yet been present; it is w hat
comes in to presence always already and in advance p rio r to a ll ‘uncanninesses.’ . . . it
surrounds, and in so fa r as it everywhere surrounds, th e present o rd in a ry state o f things
and presents its e lf in e ve ryth in g o rd in a ry, th ough w ith o u t being th e o rd in a ry. T he
uncanny understo o d in th is way is, w ith regard to w hat is o rd in a ry o r n a tu ra l, n o t the
e xception b u t th e ‘m ost n a tu ra l,’ in th e sense o f ‘n a tu re ’ as th o u g h t by the Greeks, i.e .,
in th e sense o f T he uncanny is th a t o u t o f w hich a ll th a t is o rd in a ry em erges, th a t
in w hich a ll th a t is o rd in a ry is suspended w ith o u t surm ising it ever in the least, and th a t
in to w hich e ve ryth in g o rd in a ry fa lls back. . . . F or those w ho came la te r and fo r us, to
w ho th e p rim o rd ia l G reek experience o f B eing is d e n ie d, th e uncanny has to be the
exception, in p rin c ip le e xp la in a ble , to th e o rd in a ry ; we p u t the uncanny n e x t to the
o rd in a ry, b u t, to be sure, o n ly as the e xtra o rd in ary. F or us it is d iffic u lt to a tta in the
fu n da m e n tal G reek experience, w hereby th e o rd in a ry its e lf, and o n ly in so fa r as it is
o rd in a ry, is the uncanny. . . . We are divesting fro m th e w ord any rep re se n ta tio n o f the
g ig a n tic, th e overpow ering, the exaggerated, the w e ird . O f course th e uncanny can also,
in its excessiveness, h id e b e h in d such figures. B u t it its e lf in its essence is the in conspicu­
ous, the sim ple, th e in s ig n ific a n t, w h ich nevertheless shines in a ll beings.” M a rtin H eideg­
ger, Parmenides, 101.

43. M a rtin H eidegger, Being and Time, 214.

44. Ib id ., 233-234.

45. M a rtin H eidegger, What Is Called Thinking?y 154.

46. S ig n ifica n tly, H eidegger’s e x p lic it use o f th e fig u re o f the house begins w ith his
“o ffic ia l” w ith d ra w a l fro m the N azi regim e and even acts as h is fig u re fo r th a t w ithdraw al.
I t em erges o u t o f the firs t lectures on H o ld e rlin in 1934 and th e n is reta in e d and
em phasized in th e postwar p u b lica tio n s, b e g in n in g w ith th e “L e tte r on H um anism .” I t
arguably becam e e x p lic it precisely to cover u p h is personal association w ith the violence
o f th e regim e. In th e late essays, h is a rgum ent th a t th e fa m ilia r sense o f th e house is a
cover o f a d o u b le violence acts as h is own cover. Just as th e fig u re m aintains h is allegiance
to the tra d itio n o f m etaphysics it is supposedly deployed to displace, it also m aintains his
allegiance to w h a t he s till re fe rre d to in the 1935 Introduction to Metaphysics as th e “ in n e r
tru th ” o f the party, the tru th fro m w hich the p a rty its e lf is seen to have fa lle n . See M ark
W igley, “H e id e g g er’s House: T he V io le n ce o f the D om estic.”

47. M a rtin H eidegger, “ T he O rig in o f th e W ork o f A rt,” 54.

48. O n th e sexuality o f Dasein fo r H eidegger, see D e rrid a ’s “ G eschlecht: Sexual D iffe r­


ence, O n to lo g ica l D iffe re n ce .”

49. M a rtin H eidegger, A n Introduction to Metaphysicsy 155.

50. Ib id ., 157.

51. Ib id .

52. In the m id d le o f H eidegger’s lectures a t th e U n ive rsity o f M arb u rg in 1925, he


rejected the idea th a t to be “in ” refers to a “spatial co n ta in e r (ro o m , b u ild in g )” and refers
to an etym o lo g ica l study by G rim m (w hich com pares th e archaic G erm an w ords m eaning
domusy o r “ house,” th a t have the same fo rm as the E nglish w ord “in n ” ) to argue th a t “in ”
p rim a rily refers to “d w e llin g ” ra th e r than th e occupation o f space: “ ‘In ’ comes fro m
innany w h ich m eans to d w ell, habitare; ‘ anh’ means: I am accustom ed, I am fa m ilia r w ith ,
I take care o f som ething— the L a tin colo in th e sense o f hahito and dilzgo. D w e llin g is also
241_________________
N ote to Pages 111-115

taken here as ta kin g care o f som e th in g in in tim a te fa m ilia rity , being-involved w ith [Seirt-
bei]. . . . ‘in ’ p rim a rily does n o t sig n ify a n ything spatial a t a ll b u t means p rim a rily being
fa m ilia r w ith ” M a rtin H eidegger, H istory o f the Concept o f Time, 158. H e then em ployed th is
key argum ent in the same fo rm a t the b e g in n in g o f Being and Time in a way th a t organizes
th e w hole te xt th a t follow s. M a rtin H eidegger, Being and Time; 80.

53. M a rtin Heidegger, A n Introduction to Metaphysics, 163.

54. Ib id ., 161.

55. Ib id .

56. Ib id ., 150.

57. “ T he Greeks had no w o rd fo r ‘space.’ T h is is no accident; fo r they experienced th e


spatial on th e basis n o t o f e xte nsion b u t o f place ( topos); they experienced it as chora,
w h ich signifies n e ith e r p lace n o r space b u t th a t w h ich is occupied by w hat stands there.
T he place belongs to the th in g its e lf. Each o f th e various th in g s has its place. T h a t w hich
becomes is placed in th is lo ca l ‘space* and em erges fro m i t . . . th e tran sfo rm a tio n o f
th e barely apprehended essence o f place (topos) and o f chora in to a ‘space’ d e fin ed by
extension was in itia te d by P la to n ic philosophy, i.e. in the in te rp re ta tio n o f being as idea.
M ig h t chora n o t mean: th a t w h ich abstracts its e lf fro m every p a rticu la r, th a t w hich
w ithdraw s, and in such a way precisely adm its and “makes place” fo r som ething else?”
Ib id ., 66.

58. M a rtin Heidegger, Nietzsche Vol. 1: The W ill to Power as A rt, trans. D avid F a rre ll K re ll
(San Francisco: H arper a nd Row, 1979), 180.

59. Ib id ., 173.

60. M a rtin Heidegger, “Language,” 191.

61. M a rtin Heidegger, “R em em brance o f the P oet,” trans. Douglas Scott, in Existence and
Being (W ashington: Gateway, 1949), 233-269, 267.

62. Ib id ., 259.

63. H eidegger argues th a t poets need to go in to th e abyss “ To see th is danger and p o in t


it o u t, there m ust be m ortals w ho reach sooner in to th e abyss.” M a rtin H eidegger, “W hat
A re Poets For?,” trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter, in M a rtin H eidegger, Poetry, Language, Thought
(New York: H a rpe r and Row, 1971), 8 9 -1 4 2 ,1 1 7.

64. M a rtin H eidegger, A n Introduction to Metaphysics, 167. “In the fa m ilia r appearance th e
p o e t calls th e a lie n .” M a rtin H eidegger, “ . . . P o e tica lly M an Dw ells . . .,” trans. A lb e rt
H ofstadter, in M a rtin H eidegger, Poetry, Language, Thought (New York: H a rp e r and Row,
1971), 211-229, 225.

65. M a rtin Heidegger, “ T h e O rig in o f the W ork o f A rt,” 76.

66. M a rtin Heidegger, A n Introduction to Metaphysics, 169.

67. Ib id .

68. “A ll th is m erely conceals the uncanniness o f language, o f th e passions, the powers by


w h ich m an is ordained [gefiigt] as a h is to rica l b eing, w h ile it seems to h im th a t it is he
w ho disposes [verjugt] o f th e m . T h e strangeness, th e uncanniness o f these powers resides
242_________________
N ote to Pages 115-120

in th e ir seem ing fa m ilia rity . D ire ctly they y ie ld them selves to m an o n ly in th e ir nones­
sence [Unwesen], so d riv in g h im and h o ld in g h im o u t o f his essence. In th is way he comes
to regard w hat is fu n da m e n tally m ore rem ote and overpow ering than sea and e a rth as
closest o f a ll to h im . H ow fa r m an is fro m being at hom e in his essence is revealed by
his o p in io n o f h im se lf as he w ho invented language and und ersta n d in g, b u ild in g and
p o e try.” Ib id ., 156.

69. O f the usual in te rp re ta tio n o f the m odern a tom ic age as a crisis o f vio le n ce perp e tu ­
ated by m o d e rn science th a t alienates m an, H eidegger notes th a t the in te rp re ta tio n is
its e lf “a lie n a tin g and uncanny.” M a rtin H eidegger, “ T he P rin cip le o f Reason,” the 1953
address, 122. I t is “uncanny” because it id e n tifie s the vio le n ce o f atom ic energy as fo re ig n
to m an a nd a re ce n t h isto rica l event ra th e r th a n a m ark o f the way th e “ e n tire h is to ry o f
W estern th o u g h t” has always been organized a ro u n d the a rch ite cto n ic p rin c ip le o f
g ro u n d . I t is th e v e ilin g o f th e o rig in a ry violence o f a rch ite cto n ic th in k in g th a t is
uncanny.

70. “O n ly i f we understand th a t th e use o f pow er in language, in u n d ersta n d in g, in


fo rm in g and b u ild in g helps to create . . . the v io le n t act [G ewalttat] o f la yin g o u t paths
in to th e e n v iro n in g pow er o f th e essent, o n ly then sh a ll we understand the strangeness,
the uncanniness o f a ll vio le n ce .” A n Introduction to Metaphysics, 157.

71. M a rtin H eidegger, What Is a Thing?, 121.

72. M a rtin H eidegger, “L e tte r on H um anism ,” 236.

73. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he Retrait o f M etaphor,” 24.

74. “ T he fa th e r is always fa th e r to a sp e a k in g /liv in g being. In o th e r w ords, it is precisely


logos th a t enables us to perceive and investigate som ething lik e p a te rn ity. I f th e re were a
sim ple m e ta p h o r in th e expression ‘fa th e r o f logos,’ th e firs t w ord, w h ich seemed the
m ore fa m ilia r, w o u ld nevertheless receive m ore m eaning from the second th a n it w ould
tra n sm it to it. T h e firs t fa m ilia rity is always involved in a re la tio n o f co h a b ita tio n w ith
logos. L iving-beings, fa th e r and son, are announced to us and relate d to each o th e r w ith in
the household o f logos” Jacques D e rrid a , “P lato’s Pharm acy,” 80. In Glas, D e rrid a looks
a t the way the co n ce pt o f fa m ily “very rig o ro u sly inscribes its e lf in the system” o f H e g e l’s
p h ilo so p h y (p . 5) and asks, “W ill one rashly say th a t th e fin ite fa m ily fu rn ish e s a m eta­
p h o ric m odel o r a convenient fig u ra tio n fo r th e language o f p h ilo so p h ica l exposition? A
pedagogical ease? A good way to speak o f abstract th in g s to th e stu d en t [eleve] w h ile
p laying w ith th e fa m ilia rity o f fa m ily significations? Even th e n w hat th e absolute fa m ilia rity
o f a sig n ific a tio n is m ust be know n. I f th a t can be th o u g h t and nam ed w ith o u t the fam ily.
T he n one needs to ascertain th a t the fin ite fa m ily in question is n o t in fin ite already, in
w hich case w hat th e alleged m e ta p h o r w o u ld come to fig u re w ould be already in the
m etaphor.” Ib id ., 21. “In fa c t it seems necessary here to in v e rt th is o rd e r and recognize
w hat I have elsewhere proposed to c a ll th e ‘m eta p h o ric catastrophe’ : fa r fro m know ing
firs t w hat ‘life ’ o r ‘fa m ily’ m ean whenever we use these fa m ilia r values to ta lk about
language and tra n sla tio n ; it is ra th e r sta rtin g fro m th e n o tio n o f a language and its
‘su rv iv a l’ in tra n sla tio n th a t we co u ld have access to the n o tio n o f w hat life and fa m ily
m ean.” Jacques D e rrid a , “Des Tours de Babel,” 178. Likew ise, the concept o f econom y is
n o t used as a m etaphor o f m etaphysics b u t is d e fin e d by it, p roduced by th e very system
o f m etaphysics it appears to illu s tra te : “ a ll the mayor concepts w h ich co n stitute the
discourse o f econom ics are p h ilo so p h ica l.” Jacques D e rrid a , “ D e co n stru ctio n and the
O th e r,” 115.

75. M a rtin H eidegger, What Is a Thing?, 123.

76. M a rtin H eidegger, Being and Time, 44.


243_________________
N ote to Pages 120-132

77. Jacques D e rrida, O f Grammatology, 24.

T hrow ing U p A rch ite ctu re

1. Im m anuel Kant, The Critique o ffudgement, 188.

2. Ib id ., 162.

3. Ib id ., 185.

4. Ib id ., 186.

5. Jacques D e rrid a , “Psyche: In ve n tio n s o f the O th e r,” trans. C ath e rin e Porter, in Lindsay
W aters and W lad G odzich, eds., Reading De M an Reading (M in n e a p o lis: U n ive rsity o f
M innesota Press, 1989), 2 5 -6 5 , 56.

6. Jacques D e rrid a , “ To Speculate— o n “F re u d ,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , The


Post Card: From Socrates to Freud and Beyond. (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1987),
257-409, 280.

7. Im m anuel K ant, The Critique o ffudgement, 160.

8. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T ym p a n ,” xvi.

9. Jacques D e rrid a . “O u tw o rk, P re fa cin g,” 5.

10. Jacques D errida, “C o g ito and the H is to ry o f M adness,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques
D e rrid a , W riting and Difference (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978), 31-63, 40.

11. Jacques D e rrid a , “V io le n ce and M etaphysics: A n Essay on the T h o u g h t o f Em m anuel


Levinas,” 91.

12. Jacques D e rrid a , “E conom im esis,” trans. R. K le in , D iacritics, vo l. 11, n o . 2, 1981, 3 -2 5 ,


20.

13. Im m anuel Kant, The C ritique o ffudgement, 67.

14. Jacques D e rrida, “F rom a R estricted To a G eneral Econom y: A H egelianism w ith o u t


Reserve,” 272.

15. “D ’exclusion re n fe rm a n t ce q u ’e lle veut n e u tra lise r ou m ettre dehors . . .” Jacques


D e rrid a , “Ja, ou le fa u x-b o n d ,” 113.

16. Jacques D errida, “D esistance,” 16.

17. Im m anuel Kant, The C ritique o ffudgement, 43.

18. Ib id ., 65.

19. Ib id ., 151.

20. Ib id ., 155.
244_________________
N ote to Pages 132-135

21. JeanJacques Rousseau. “A Discourse on th e O rig in o f In e q u a lity,” trans. G. D . H . C ole,


in JeanJacques Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses (L o n d o n : D ent, 1973), 27-113,
50.

22. JeanJacques Rousseau, “A D iscourse on the M o ra l Effects o f the A rts and Sciences,”
trans. G. D . H . Cole, in Jean Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses, 1-26, 5
[tra n sla tio n m o d ifie d ].

23. Ib id ., 18 [tra n s la tio n m o d ifie d ].

24. JeanJacques Rousseau, “ T he Social C o n tra ct,” trans. G. D. H . C ole, in Jean Jacques
Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses. 164-278, 197.

25. JeanJacques Rousseau, “A D iscourse on the O rig in o f In e q u a lity,” 42.

26. “ H ow co u ld it have happened th a t m odern languages, especially, have com e to


designate the pow er o f aesthetic ju d g e m e n t by a te rm (gustus, sapor) th a t refers m erely
to a ce rta in sense organ (the in sid e o f the m ou th ) and to th e way we use th is organ to
d istin g u ish , as w e ll as to choose, th in g s we can enjoy [geniessbarerDinge— ‘e d ib le th in g s’ ]?
A good m eal in good com pany is unsurpassed as a situ a tio n in w h ich se n sib ility and
u n d ersta n d in g u n ite in one enjoym ent th a t lasts a lo n g tim e and can be repeated w ith
pleasure so freq u e n tly. B u t th e m eal is considered o n ly the in s tru m e n t fo r keeping the
com pany together. T he host shows his aesthetic taste by his s k ill in choosing w ith universal
va lid ity. T h is he ca n n ot do by his own sense [o f ta ste ], because his guests m ig h t choose
o th e r foods o r d rin ks, each acco rd in g to his own private sense. So he arranges fo r a variety
th a t enables each guest to fin d som ething th a t suits his sense, and in th is way his choice
has a relative universal v a lid ity . . . A n d th is is how th e o rg a n ic fe e lin g th a t comes th ro u g h
a p a rtic u la r sense co u ld give its nam e to an id e a l fe e lin g : the fe e lin g , nam ely, o f a
sensuous choice th a t is u n iversally v a lid .” Im m anuel K ant, Anthropology from a Pragmatic
Point o f View, trans. M ary J. G regor (T h e Hague: M a rtin u s N ijh o ff, 1974), 110.

27. “ T he p h ilo so p h e r should th e re fo re consider w h e th er it is possible fo r h im to w rite


the laws o f d in in g socially fo r those whose way o f life com m its them to concern fo r the
m in d ra th e r th a n the body in w hatever they u n d erta ke .” Im m anuel K ant, “O n P hiloso­
p h e r’s M e d icin e o f the Body,” in Lewis W h ite Beck, ed., K ant's L a tin W ritings (New York:
Peter Lang, 1986), 217-243, 235.

28. To “gorge o n e se lf w ith fo o d ” is “to vio la te a d u ty to o n e s e lf. . . in g lu tto n y m an m ore


closely approxim ates anim al enjoym ent . . . a feast is always a te m p ta tio n to w hat is
im m o ra l.” Im m a n u e l K ant, The Metaphysical Principles o f Virtue. II. The Metaphysics o f Morals,
trans. James E llin g to n (In d ia n a p o lis: B o b b s-M e rrill, 1964), 88-89.

29. JeanJacques Rousseau, “Essay on th e O rig in o f Languages,” trans. Jo h n H . M oran


and A le xa n d e r G ode, in On the O rigin o f Language (N ew York: F re d e rick Ungar, 1966),
1-74, 53.

30. Im m a n u e l K ant, The Critique o f Judgement, 123.

31. JeanJacques Rousseau, “Discourse on the O rig in o f In e q u a lity,M80.

32. JeanJacques Rousseau, “Essay on the O rig in o f Languages,” 31.

33. Im m a n u e l K ant, The Philosophy o f Law, trans. W. H astie (E d in b u rg h : T. T. C lark, 1887),


112.
245_________________
N ote to Pages 135-138

34. “ T he on ly q u a lifica tio n re q u ire d by a citize n (ap a rt, o f course, fro m being an a d u lt
m ale) is th a t he m ust be h is own master (sui iu ris )t and m ust have some property (w hich
can in clu d e any s k ill, tra d e , fin e a rt o r science) to su p p o rt h im s e lf/ Im m a n u e l K ant, “O n
th e C om m on Saying: ‘T h is M ay be T ru e in T he o ry, B u t it Does N o t A p p ly in P ractice,”
trans. H . B. N isbet, in H ans Reiss, ed., Kant's P o litica l W ritings (C am bridge: C am bridge
U n ive rsity Press, 1970), 61-92, 78. A lth o u g h th e w ife m ust “obey” the husband “Never­
theless, they are a ll equal as subjects before the law . . . ” Ib id ., 75.

35. “A woman, regardless o f h e r age, is u n d er c iv il tutelage [o r in co m p e te n t to speak fo r


h e rse lf ( unm undig)]; h e r husband is h e r n a tu ra l cu ra to r, th o ug h i f a m a rrie d wom an has
p ro p e rty o f he r own, it is a n o th e r m an. I t is tru e th a t w hen it comes to ta lkin g , wom an,
by h e r n a ture , is s u ffic ie n tly g lib [ Mundwerk genughat] to represent b o th h e rse lf and h e r
husband, even in co u rt (w here it is a question o f th e M in e and T h in e ), and so co u ld be
lite ra lly described as m o re th a n com petent to speak fo r h e rse lf [berm undigj. B u t ju s t as
it is n o t w om an’s role to go to war, so she ca n n ot p ersonally de fen d h e r representative.
A n d this legal tutelage w ith reg a rd to p u b lic transactions makes h e r a ll th e m ore p o w e rfu l
where h e r dom estic w e lfa re is concerned; fo r the rig h t o f th e weaker enters in to th is,
and m an’s very nature calls o n h im to respect it and defend i t ” Im m anuel K ant,
Anthropology from a Pragmatic P oint o f View, trans. M a ry J. G regor (T h e Hague: M artin u s
N ijh o ff, 1974), section 48, 79. T h e question o f the dom estic can be fo llo w e d in m any
o th e r texts by Kant. See, fo r exam ple, “A n Answer to Q uestion: ‘W hat is E n lig h te n ­
m ent?’ ,” w hich, in opposing th e p o litic a l c o n tro l o f people lik e “dom esticated anim als,”
tu rn s on a d istin ctio n betw een th e “p riva te ” d om ain o f c iv il in s titu tio n s , lik e teaching, as
“never any m ore than a dom estic g a th e rin g ” and the “p u b lic ” realm e xe m p lifie d by
p u b lica tio ns. Im m anuel K ant, “A n Answer to Q uestion: ‘W hat is E n lig h te n m e n t? ’” Kant's
P olitical W ritings (C am bridge: C am bridge U n ive rsity Press, 1970), 54-60. T his im age o f
dom esticity is sustained, a t a n o th e r level, in th e concept o f “h o s p ita lity ” in “P erpetual
Peace: A P hilosophical S ketch,” trans. H . B. N isbet, in H ans Reiss, ed., Kant's P olitical
W ritings, 93-130, 105.

36. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 176-178. O n the necessity fo r an “e th ic o -p o litic a l”


reading o f the p h ilo so p h ica l discourses “th a t reserve p o litic s and p u b lic space fo r m an,
dom estic and private space fo r w om an,” see Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he P o litics o f F rie n d sh ip ,”
Journal o f Philosophy, vol. 75, no. 11, 1988, 632-645, 642-643.

37. Jacques D errida, O f Grammatology, 157.

38. Jacques D e rrid a , “In te rp re ta tio n s a t W ar: K ant, the Jew, the G erm an,” New Literary
History, vo l. 22, no. 1, 1991, 3 9 -9 5 , 60.

39. Jacques D e rrid a , Glas, 133.

40. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, “A Discourse on P o litic a l Econom y,” trans. G. D. H . Cole, in


Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses, 115-153, 117.

41. Im m anuel Kant, C ritique o f Pure Reason, 573. T h e p h a llo g oce n trism o f m etaphysics is
n o t th a t o f a tow er th a t excludes, b u t th a t o f a house th a t includes. T he idea o f the house
is bound to th a t o f g ro u n d e d stru ctu re : “ T h ro u g h o u t m y w ritin g s I have m ade it clear
th a t m y m ethod im itates th a t o f th e a rch ite ct. W hen an a rch ite ct wants to b u ild a house
w h ich is stable on g ro u n d w here th e re is a sandy to p so il over u n d e rly in g ro ck, o r clay,
o r some over firm base, he begins by d ig g in g o u t a set o f trenches fro m w hich he removes
th e sand, and anything re stin g o n o r m ixed in w ith the sand, so th a t he can lay his
fo u nd a tio n s on firm s o il. In th e same way, I began by ta kin g e ve ryth in g th a t was d o u b tfu l
and th ro w in g it out, lik e sand; and th e n, when I n o tice d th a t it is im possible to d o u b t
246_________________
N ote to Pages 139-143

th a t a d o u b tin g o r th in k in g substance exists, I to o k th is as th e bedrock on w hich I co u ld


lay the fo u n d a tio n s o f m y ph ilo so p hy.” Rene Descartes, “Seventh Set o f O bjections w ith
the A u th o r’s R eplies,” trans. John (Nottingham et al., The Philosophical W ritings o f Descartes
Vol II, (C am bridge: C am bridge U n ive rsity Press, 1984), 366-383.

42. Jacques D e rrid a , “ E conom im esis,” 21.

43. Im m a n u e l K ant, The Critique o f Judgement, 173.

44. Im m a n u e l K ant, Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point o f View, 53.

45. Im m anuel K ant, Observations on the Feeling o f the B eautiful and the Sublime, trans. Jo h n
T. G o ld thw ait (B erkeley: U n ive rsity o f C a lifo rn ia Press, 1965), 83.

46. Ib id ., 79.

47. Ib id ., 83.

48. Jacques D e rrid a , “Econom im esis,” 25.

49. Ib id .

50. Jacques D e rrid a , “O tobiographies: T he T eaching o f Nietzsche and th e P o litics o f the


P roper N am e,” trans. A vita l R o n e ll, in C h ristie V. M cD onald, ed., The E a r o f the Other:
Otobiography, Transference, Translation (New York: Schocken Books, 1985), 1-38, 23. To give
ju s t one exam ple o f the stru ctu ra l ro le o f in d ig e stio n in Nietzsche: “W hat changes the
general taste? T h e fa ct th a t some in d ivid u a ls w ho are p o w e rfu l and in flu e n tia l announce
w ith o u t any shame, hoc est ridiculum , hoc est absurdum [th is is rid icu lo u s, th is is a b su rd ], in
sh o rt, the ju d g e m e n t o f th e ir taste and nausea; and th e n they enforce it tyran n ica lly. T hus
they coerce m any, and g ra d u a lly s till m ore develop a new h a b it, and eventually a ll a new
need. T he reason w hy these in d ivid u a ls have d iffe re n t feelings and tastes is usually to be
fo u n d in some o d d ity o f th e ir life style, n u tritio n o r d ig e stio n . . . ” F rie d rich Nietzsche,
The Gay Science, trans. W alter Kaufm an (New York: V intage Books, 1974), 106.

51. Jacques D e rrid a , “S tru ctu re , Sign and Play in the Discourse o f the H um an Sciences,”
284.

52. Jean Jacques Rousseau, Emile, trans. Barbara F oxley (New York: D e n t, 1973), 120.

53. Im m a n u e l K ant, Education (A nn A rb o r: U n ive rsity o f M ichigan Press, 1960), 35.

54. Ib id ., 241.

55. S igm und F reud, “ T he U ncanny,” 235.

56. Ib id ., 236.

57. S igm und F re u d , “ T hre e Essays on the T h e o ry o f S exuality,” trans. James Strachey, The
Standard E dition o f the Complete Psychological Works o f Sigmund Freud, vo l. 7, 1959, 125-243,
177.

58. S igm und F reud, “ T he U ncanny,” 219.

59. S igm und F reud, “M o u rn in g and M e la n ch o lia ,” trans. James Strachey, The Standard
E dition o f the Complete Psychological Works o f Sigmund Freud, vo l. 14, 243-258, 255.
247_________________
N ote to Pages 143-146

60. Jacques D e rrid a , “E conom im esis,” 23.

61. “Pure Reason . . . is a fa c u lty o f ju d g in g a cco rd in g to a p rio ri P rin cip le s. T h a t is why


a c ritiq u e o f ju d g e m e n t belongs to a com plete c ritiq u e o f p u re (th e o re tic a l as w e ll as
p ra ctica l) Reason. Even in th e [K a n t’s] th ird Critique, Reason is th e re a l them e.” M a rtin
H eidegger, The Principle o f Reason, 71.

62. N icolas Abraham and M a ria T o ro k, “In tro je c tio n -In c o rp o ra tio n : M o u rn in g o r M elan­
ch o lia ,” in Serge Lebovici and D a n ie l W id la n d e r, eds., Psychoanalysis in France (New York:
In te rn a tio n a l U niversity Press, 1980), 3-1 6 , 5.

63. Jacques D e rrid a , “L im ite d In c ., a b c . . . 77.

64. Jacques D e rrid a , “Fors: T h e A n g u ish W ords o f N icolas A braham and M aria T o ro k,”
x x x v iii.

65. Ib id .

66. Ib id ., xv. “a m em ory he b u rie d w ithout legal b u ria l place, th e m em ory o f an id y ll


experienced w ith a pre stig io u s o b je ct th a t fo r some reason has becom e unspeakable, a
m em ory thus entom bed in a fast and secure place, aw aiting its re s u rre c tio n .. . . b o th th e
fa ct th a t the id y ll has taken place and its subsequent loss w ill have to be disguised and
d e nied. Such a situation leads to the se ttin g u p w ith in the ego o f a closed-off place, a
crypt . . . ” N icolas A braham and M aria T oro k. “A Poetics o f Psychoanalysis: T he Lost
O bject— M e,” Substance, vo l. 13, n o . 2, 1984, 3 -1 8 , 4.

67. Jacques D e rrid a , “R o u n d ta b le on A u to b io g ra p h y,” 57.

68. N icolas Abraham and M a ria T o ro k, “In tro je c tio n -In c o rp o ra tio n : M o u rn in g o r M elan­
ch o lia ,” 6.

69. Ib id .

70. Jacques D e rrid a , "Fors: T he A nguish W ords o f N icolas A braham and M aria T o ro k,”
x lii.

71. “C ryptonym y w ould thus n o t consist in rep re se n ting — h id in g one w ord by another,
one th in g by another, a th in g by a w ord o r a w ord by a th in g , b u t in p ic k in g o u t fro m
th e extended series o f allosem es, a te rm th a t th e n (in a second-degree distancing) is
translated in to a synonym .” Ib id ., x li.

72. Ib id ., xxv.

73. T h is c ry p tic structu re , w h ich p a ra sitica lly occupies the dom estic space o f language,
should be com pared to H e g e l’s acco u nt o f language as m o u rn in g th ro u g h the construc­
tio n o f tom bs, e xe m p lifie d by fa m ily crypts, m onum ents to the life o f the fam ily, m onu­
m ents to dom estic life , to th e dom e sticity o f life : “H egel knew th a t th is p ro p e r and
anim ated body o f the s ig n ifie r was also a tomb. T he association soma/sema is also at w ork
in th is sem iology, w hich is in n o way su rp risin g . T h e to m b is the life o f the body as the
sign o f death, the body as th e o th e r o f the soul, th e o th e r o f the anim ate psyche, o f th e
liv in g breath. B ut the to m b also shelters, m ainta in s in reserve, capitalizes o n life by
m arkin g th a t life continues elsewhere. T he fa m ily cryp t: oifCesis. I t consecrates the disap­
pearance o f life by atte sting to th e perseverance o f life . T hus, the tom b also shelters life
fro m death. I t warns th e so u l o f possible death, w arns (o f) death o f th e soul, tu rn s away
(fro m ) death. T his d o u b le w a rn in g fu n c tio n belongs to the fu n e ra ry m o n u m e n t T he
248_________________
N ote to Pages 146-152

body o f the sign thus becomes the m onum ent in w h ich the soul w ill be enclosed,
preserved, m a in ta in e d , ke p t in m aintenance, present, sig n ifie d . A t the h e a rt o f the
m on u m e n t th e soul keeps its e lf alive, b u t it needs th e m onum ent o n ly to the e xte n t th a t
it is exposed— to death— in its liv in g re la tio n to its ow n body.” Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he P it
and the P yram id: In tro d u c tio n to H e gel’s Sem iology,” 82.

74. Jacques D e rrid a , “ R oundtable on A uto b io g ra p h y,” 59. com pare w ith : “ Despite appear­
ances, th e d e co n stru ctio n o f logocentrism is n o t a psychoanalysis o f ph ilo so p hy.” Jacques
D e rrid a , “F reud and th e Scene o f W ritin g ,” 196.

75. Jacques D e rrid a , “Fors: T he A nguish W ords o f N icolas Abraham and M aria T o ro k,”

76. Ib id ., xxxiv.

77. M a rtin H eidegger, K ant and the Problem o f Metaphysics, 138. “ T he actual in te rp re ta tio n
m ust show w hat does n o t stand in the works and is nevertheless said. T o accom plish th is
the exegete m ust use violence.” M a rtin H eidegger, A n Introduction to Metaphysics, 162.
Com pare to D e rrid a ’s “I slice th in g s up som ewhat barbarously and ille g itim a te ly as we
always d o .’’ Jacques D e rrid a , “L iv in g O n: Border Lines," 117.

78. “ T he present, the presence o f the present, and th e present o f th e present o f presence,
are a ll o rig in a lly and fo re ve r v io le n t T he liv in g present is o rig in a lly m arked by death.”
Jacques D e rrid a , “V iolence and M etaphysics: A n Essay on the T h o u g h t o f Em m anuel
Levinas,” 133. “ T he re fore , the th o u g h t o f Being, in its u n v e ilin g is never fo re ig n to a
ce rta in vio le n ce .” Ib id ., 147. “M oreover, the ra p p o rt o f se lf-id e n tity is its e lf always a
ra p p o rt o f violence w ith th e o th e r.” Jacques D e rrid a , “ D econstruction and the O th e r,”
117. “ T he v io le n t re la tio n sh ip o f the w hole o f th e West to its o th e r.” Jacques D e rrid a ,
“ T he Ends o f M an,” 134.

79. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 34.

80. “ T he violence o f w ritin g does n o t befall an in n o ce n t language. T here is an o rig in a ry


violence o f w ritin g because language is f i r s t . . . w ritin g .” Ib id ., 37.

81. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Parergon,” 69.

82. Jacques D e rrid a , “Im p lic a tio n s ,” 6.

D oing d ie T w ist

1. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T itle (To Be S p e cifie d ),” 8.

2. Ib id ., 7.

3. Ib id ., 11.

4. Jacques D e rrid a , “L ivin g O n: Border Lines," 152.

5. Jacques D e rrid a , “B efore th e Law,” trans. A vita l R o nell and C h ristin e R oulston, in
D erek A ttrid g e , ed., Acts o f Literature (New York: R outledge, 1992), 181-220, 212.
249_________________
N ote to Pages 153-158

6. Jacques D e rrid a , “S h ib b o le th ,” trans. Joshua W iln e r, in D erek A ttrid g e , ed., Acts o f


Literature (New York: R outledge, 1992) 370-413, 413. “ T he c ry p t rem ains, the shibboleth
rem ains secret, the passage u n ce rta in , and the poem o n ly unveils th is secret to c o n firm
th a t there is som ething secret th e re , w ith d ra w n .” Ib id ., 404.

7. Ib id .

8. Jacques D e rrid a , “H ow to A vo id Speaking: D e nials,” 23.

9. Ib id ., 36.

10. Jacques D errida, “S crib b le (W ritin g -P o w e r),” trans. C ary P lo tk in , Yale French Studies,
59, 1979, 116-147, 124.

11. Ib id ., 129.

12. See also D e rrid a ’s a cco u n t o f the undecidable “coup o f fo rce ” w ith w h ich the p o litic a l
space d e fin e d by the D e cla ra tio n o f Independence is necessarily in s titu te d , a p e rfo rm a tive
violence covered by p o rtra y in g its in s titu tio n a l laws as fo u nd e d on n a tu ra l laws. Jacques
D e rrid a , “D eclarations o f In dependence,” trans. Tom Keenan and Tom Pepper, New
P olitical Science, no. 15, S um m er 1986, 7-15.

13..In “L iv in g O n: Border Lines,” D e rrid a p o in ts to th e in a b ility o f the u n ive rsity discourse


a b o ut a rt to exam ine th e ro le o f a rt in its own co n stru ctio n by again lin k in g the strange
ro le o f the title on the b o rd e r and the in s titu tio n o f lite ra ry studies: “W hat is a title ? W hat
b o rd e rlin e questions are posed here? I am here seeking m erely to establish the necessity
o f th is w hole p ro b le m a tic o f ju d ic ia l fra m in g and o f th e ju ris d ic tio n o f fram es. T h is
p ro b le m a tic, I feel, has n o t been e xp lo re d , at least n o t adequately, by the in s titu tio n o f
lite ra ry studies in the u niversity. A n d there are essential reasons fo r th a t: th is is an
in s titu tio n b u ilt on th a t ve ry system o f fra m in g .” Jacques D e rrid a , “L iv in g O n: Border
Lines,” 88.

14. “Every tim e p h ilo so p hy determ ines a rt, m asters it and encloses it in the h is to ry o f
m eaning o r in the o n to lo g ica l encyclopedia, it assigns it a jo b as m edium . . . By g ivin g
it the p h ilo so p hica l nam e art, one has, it w ould seem, dom esticated it in onto-encyclope­
d ic econom y and the h is to ry o f tru th ,” Jacques D e rrid a , “P arergon,” 34.

15. As D e rrid a points o u t elsewhere, “ the vocabulary o f fo u n d a tio n is always, already, a


ju rid ic a l vocabulary [le vocabulmre du fondement est toujours, deja, un vocabulaire ju rid iq ue] .”
“P opularities: Du d ro it a la p h ilo s o p h ic d u d ro it,” in Jacques D e rrid a , D u droit a la
phibsophie (Paris: G alilee, 1990), 512, 525-553.

16. Jacques D e rrid a , “F orce o f Law : T he ‘M ystical F ou n d a tio n o f A u th o rity ’,” trans. M ary
Q uaintance, Cardozo Law Review, vo l. 11, no. 5 /6 , Ju ly /A u g u s t 1990, 919-1046, 929.

17. Ib id ., 963.

18. Ib id ., 943.

19. Jacques D e rrid a , “B efore th e Law,” 203.

20. Ib id ., 199.

21. Ib id ., 195.
250_________________
N ote to Pages 158-163

22. Jacques D e rrid a , “ S h ib b o le th ,” 402.

23. Ib id ., 410. D e rrid a ’s w hole a rgum ent here is an e la b o ra tio n o f a single stanza in a
poem by Celan th a t invokes the uncanniness th e date: “ (H e art: / m ake yo u rse lf know n
even here, / here, in the m id st o f th e m arket. / C a ll it o u t, the sh ib b o le th , / in to the
a lie n hom eland strangeness: / February. N o passeran.”

24. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he Retrait o f M etaphor,” 19. “ I t means th a t we m ust rem ain
fa ith fu l, even i f it im plies a ce rta in violence, to th e in ju n c tio n s o f th e te x t.” Jacques
D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n and the O th e r,” 124.

25. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he Ends o f M an,” 135.

26. C hanging te rra in risks “in h a b itin g m ore naively and m ore s tric tly than ever the inside
one declares one has deserted, th e sim ple p ractice o f language ceaselessly reinstates the
new te rra in on th e oldest g ro u n d .” Ib id . D eco n stru ctio n is th e re fo re “never on a to ta lly,
o r sim ply, e x te rio r te rra in .” Jacques D e rrid a , “P ositions,” 77.

27. Jacques D e rrid a , “D isse m in a tion ,” trans. Barbara Johnson, in Jacques D e rrid a , Dissemi­
nation (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1981), 287-366, 358.

28. “A n d we m ust th in k th is w ith o u t nostalgia, th a t is, outside the m yth o f a p u re ly


m aternal o r p a te rn a l language, a lo st native co u n try o f th o u g h t. O n th e contrary, we
m ust affirm th is, in th e sense in w h ich N ietzsche puts a ffirm a tio n in to p lay in a ce rta in
la u g h te r and a ce rta in step o f th e dance.” Jacques D e rrid a , “D iffe ra n ce ,” 27.

29. Jacques D e rrid a , “C horeographies,” 69.

30. Jacques D e rrid a , “A phorism C o u n te rtim e ,” trans. N icholas Royle, in D erek A ttrid g e ,
ed., Acts o f Literature (New York: R outledge, 1992), 414-433, 419.

31. Ib id .

32. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he T he a te r o f C ru e lty and th e C losure o f R epresentation,” trans.


A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference (C hicago: U niversity o f Chicago Press,
1978), 232-250, 235.

33. Ib id ., 237.

34. Ib id ., 244.

35. Jacques D e rrid a , “La Parole S ouflee,” trans. A la n Bass, in Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and
Difference (C hicago: U niversity o f C hicago Press, 1978), 169-195, 192.

36. Ib id ., 184.

37. Ib id ., 187.

38. Ib id ., 194.

39. Jacques D e rrid a , “Desistence,” 27.

40. Ib id ., 16.

41. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he G host Dance: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” in te rvie w
w ith M ark Lewis and A ndrew Payne, trans. Jean-Luc Svoboda, Public, 2, 1989, 60-73, 61.
251_________________
N ote to Pages 164-167

42. Jacques D e rrid a , “Edm und Husserl’s *O rigin o f Geometry’: An Introduction,” trans. John P.
Leavy,Jr. (B rig hte n : H arvester Press, 1978), 88.

43. Ib id ., 91.

44. Ib id ., 99.

45. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e A r t o f Memoires," 80.

46. Jacques D e rrid a , Cinders, trans. N ed Lukacher (L in c o ln : U n ive rsity o f Nebraska Press,
1991), 22.

47. Ib id ., 53.

48. Ib id ., 61.

49. Ib id ., 41.

50. “She plays w ith words as one plays w ith fire , I w o u ld denounce h e r as a pyrom aniac
who wants to m ake us fo rg e t th a t in S icily churches are b u ilt w ith the stone o f lava.” Ib id .,
61.

51. Jacques D e rrid a , “Ulysses G ram ophone: H ear Say Yes in Joyce,” trans. T in a K endall
and Shari Benstock, in D e rek A ttrid g e , ed., Acts o f Literature (New York: R outledge, 1992),
253-309, 272-294.

52. B a ta ille , L ’experience interieure. C ited in Jacques D e rrid a . “From R estricted to G eneral
Econom y: A H egelianism w ith o u t Reserve,” 261.

53. Ib id ., 260.

54. Ib id ., 253.

55. Ib id ., 264.

56. Sigm und Freud, “ T h e U ncanny,” 241. S ig n ifica n tly, th e exam ple o n ly comes up in
th e m om ent o f its re je ctio n : “We m ig h t indeed have begun o u r invesdgation w ith th is
exam ple, perhaps the m ost s trik in g o f a ll, o f som ething uncanny, b u t we re fra in e d fro m
d o in g so because the un ca nn y in it is to o m uch in te rm ix e d w ith w hat is p u re ly gruesom e
and is in p a rt overlaid by it . ” Ib id . T h is sim ultaneous a ffirm a tio n and re je ctio n o f th e
m ost e x p lic itly a rch ite ctu ra l fig u re has to be considered in th e sp ecific co n te xt o f F reud’s
a rgum ent. H e begins h is essay by opposing Jentsch’s d e scrip tio n o f th e uncanny as
“in te lle c tu a l u n ce rta in ty” in w h ich the uncanny is e x p lic id y understo o d as a spadal
co n d id on : “som ething one does n o t know o ne’s way a b o ut in ,” an in a b ility to be “o rie n ­
ta te d ” in an “e n viro n m e n t.” Ib id ., 221. H e then traces the various m eaning o f unheimlich,
w h ich are repeatedly p u n ctu a te d by th e spadal fig u re o f the house (“b e lo n ging to th e
house . . . security as in o n e w ith in th e fo u r w alls o f h is house . . . su rrounded by close
w alls . . . so heimUg in th e house . . . th e cottage . . .” ) and even the haunted house (“ (o f
a house) h aunted,” ). B ut, in opp osing Jentsch, he tacidy opposes th is spadal sense despite
th e fa ct th a t he goes o n to c ite his own uncanny experience o f spadal d iso rie n ta tio n
between the sm all houses in a sm all tow n in Ita ly, lo sin g one’s way in a m ou n ta in fo re st,
and w andering “about in a d a rk, strange roo m , lo o k in g fo r the d o o r o r th e e le ctric sw itch,
and c o llid in g tim e a fte r tim e w ith the same piece o f fu rn itu re .” Ib id ., 237. H e extracts
fro m his own examples th e p rin c ip le o f re p e titio n ra th e r th a n th a t o f space itse lf. In fa ct,
it can be argued th a t F reud fin d s the them e o f th e u ncanny its e lf d is o rie n tin g in precisely
th e way he attem pts to b ra cke t o u t T he te x t stages b u t also denies h is experience o f
252___________________
N ote to Pages 167-169

in te lle c tu a l u n ce rta in ty in the face o f th e uncanny. S ig n ifica n tly, the essay is o n ly able to
gain c o n tro l over the uncanny by b ra cke tin g o u t space. T he exam ple o f the haunted
house, w ith w h ich he says he perhaps should have begun, o n ly comes u p , to be im m e d i­
ately bracketed away again, a t th e precise m om ent he has regained c o n tro l, a recovery
o f th e p rin c ip le s o f psychanalytic th e o ry announced in th e very spatial term s he has
attem pted to b ra cke t out: “A n d now we fin d ourselves on fa m ilia r g ro u n d .” Ib id ., 236.
H aving been d iso rien ta te d in the strange space o f th e uncanny he re tu rn s to th e fa m ilia r
hom e. Nevertheless, he is fo rce d to invoke the haunted house in o rd e r to gain e x p lic it
access to th e them e o f death, sp e cifica lly th a t o f “sp irits, dem ons, and ghosts,” w hich has
been as tacidy in scrib ed in to th e te x t as th e them e o f space fro m the b e g in n in g . In the
end, the uncanny tu rn s o u t to be a ghost story, a sto ry o f th e subject haunted by w hat it
has repressed, a story in w h ich the haunted house is ce n tra l even, i f n o t especially because
it is e xp licid y and system atically suppressed o n ly to re tu rn again late in the essay in its
p e n u ltim a te exam ple as a “naive e n o ug h ” sto ry about the h a u n tin g o f a “fu rn ish e d house”
haunted by crocodiles w h ich com e to life o u t o f th e carvings o f its fu rn itu re . Ib id ., 244.

57. Jacques D e rrid a , “L iv in g O n: Border Lines,” 96.

58. Ib id ., 108.

59. Ib id ., 137.

60. Ib id ., 76.

61. Jacques D e rrid a , “C artouches,” 195.

62. Ib id ., 217.

63. Ib id ., 244.

64. Jacques D e rrid a , “ To Speculate— on F reud,” 300.

65. Ib id ., 369.

66. Ib id ., 342.

67. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Telepathy,” Oxford Literary Review, vo l. 10, nos. 1 -2 , 1988, 3-42,
28-33.

68. D e rrid a ’s “H ow to A void Speaking: D enials,” fo r exam ple, describes how a p a rtic u la r
p o litic a l to p og ra p h y is established to the e xte n t th a t th e shared language th a t constitutes
it is “ h a unted” by th a t w h ich “exceeds” any “p o s itio n ” in the space and yet leaves its secret
m ark w ith in i t T he essay explores th e strange re la tio n sh ip “between the place and the
place o f the secret, between th e secret place and th e topography o f th e social.” Jacques
D e rrid a , “H ow to A void Speaking: D enials,” 21. Likew ise, in “S h ib b o le th ,” D e rrid a id e n ­
tifie s how a p o litic a l space is co n stitu te d by th e "unheimhcKn “spectral re tu rn ” in to it o f
th a t w h ich has been excluded fro m it b u t is e n crypted w ith in it. Jacques D e rrid a ,
“S h ib b o le th ,” 394.

69. Jacques D e rrid a , “Force o f Law: T he ‘M ystical F ou n d a tio n o f A u th o rity ’ ,” 965.

70. D e rrid a ’s in tro d u c tio n to his firs t rea d in g o f th e second h a lf o f “Force o f Law,”
(pu b lish e d in a supplem entary fo o tn o te to th e te x t) argues th a t B e n ja m in ’s te x t is a
“ghost sto ry” th a t is its e lf haunted: “haunted by haunting its e lf, by a quasi-logic o f the
p hantom w h ich , because it is th e m ore fo rc e fu l one, should be substituted fo r an
o n to lo g ica l lo g ic o f presence, absence o r re p re s e n ta tio n .. . . th e law o f th e p hantom , the
253___________________
N ote to Pages 169-174

spectral experience and th e m em ory o f th e p h a nto m , o f th a t w hich is n e ith e r dead n o r


liv in g , m ore than dead a nd m ore than liv in g , o n ly su rvivin g . . Ib id ., 973.

71. Ib id ., 1005.

72. Ib id .

73. Ib id ., 1009. “ The secret w ith o u t secret o f resistance, fo r d e co n stru ctio n , is perhaps a
ce rta in connivance w ith ru in .” Jacques D e rrid a , “B iodegradables: Seven D ia ry Frag­
m ents,” trans. Peggy K am uf, C ritica l Inquiry, vo l. 15, no. 4, 1989, 812-873, 851.

74. “I d o n ’t fe e l th a t I ’m in a p o s itio n to choose between an o p e ra tio n th a t we’ll ca ll


negative o r n ih ilis t, an o p e ra tio n th a t w o u ld set a b o u t fu rio u s ly dism an d in g systems, and
the o th e r op e ra tio n . I love ve ry m uch e ve ryth in g th a t I d e co nstru ct in m y own m anner;
th e texts I w ant to read fro m th e deconstructive p o in t o f view are texts I love, w ith th a t
im pulse o f id e n tific a tio n w h ich is indispensable fo r re a d in g .. . . m y re la tio n to these texts
is characterized by lo vin g je a lo u sy and n o t a t a ll by n ih ilis tic fu ry (one can’t read a n ything
in th e la tte r co n d itio n ) . . .’’ Jacques D e rrid a , “R oundtable o n A u to b io g ra p h y,” 87.

75. Jacques D e rrid a , “V io le n ce and M etaphysics: A n Essay on th e T h o u g h t o f Em m anuel


Levinas,” 117.

76. Jacques D e rrid a , “A t T h is V ery M om ent in» W hose W ork H ere I A m ,” trans. R ubin
B erezdivin, in R obert B ernasconi and S im on C ritchley, eds., Re-Reading Levinas (B loom ­
in g to n : In d ia n a U niversity Press, 1991), 11—48, 18.

77. Ib id ., 19.

78. Ib id ., 11.

79. Ib id ., 18.

80. Ib id ., 42.

81. Jacques D e rrid a , “V io le n ce and M etaphysics: A n Essay on th e T h o u g h t o f Em m anuel


Levinas,” 88.

82. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e Deaths o f R oland B arthes,” trans. Pascale-Anne B ra u lt and


M ichael Naas, in H ugh J. S ilverm an, ed.. Philosophy and Non-Philosophy Since Merleau-Ponty
(New York: Routledge, 1988), 259-296, 267.

83. Ib id ., 268.

84. Ib id ., 267.

85. Jacques D e rrid a , Glas, 144.

86. Ib id ., 214.

87. “De q u e lle exclusion est-elle faite? E t de q u e lle envie de vom ir? . . . Le ni-avale-ni-re-
je te , ce q u i reste dans la g orge com m e autre . . .” Jacques D e rrid a , “Ja, ou le fau x-b o n d ,”
94.

88. “Q uand je dis que Glas tra v a ille au paradoxe de T e ffe t de le cture,* j ’etends en
p a rtic u lie r qu ’il fa it l’u n d e ses them es p rin c ip a u x de la re ce p tio n (assim ila tio n , d ig e stio n,
ab so rp tio n , in tro je c tio n , incorporation), ou de la n o n -re ce ptio n (exclusion , fo rclu sio n ,
254___________________
N ote to Pages 175-178

re je t et encore, m ais cette fois com m e e xpulsion in te stin e , incorporation), done du vom is-
sem ent in te rn e ou e xterne, du trava il-d u -d e u il e t de to u t ce q u i v ie n t ou re vie n t a
d ^u e u le r. M ais Glas ne tra ite pas seulem ent de ces them es, il se propose d ’une certaine
m aniere a toutes ces o p e ra tio n s.” Ib id ., 93.

89. “ . . . il fa u t a d jo in d re ou p lu to t id e n tifie r la question du “ryth m e ,” des delais rythm es,


etc.” Ib id .

90. Jacques D e rrid a , Glas, 15. O n Nietzsche opposing lite ra tu re to those who w rite when
they ca n n ot digest som ething, see Jacques D e rrid a , “ L iv in g O n: Border Lines,” 106.

91. F or D e rrid a , desire has no place w ith o u t spacing. Jacques D e rrid a , “A phorism C oun­
te rtim e ,” 418. O f Grammatology speaks o f the necessary “spacing” between desire and
pleasure. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 280.

92. Jacques D e rrid a , “ ‘E ating W e ll,’ o r the C a lcu la tio n o f the Subject: A n In te rvie w w ith
Jacques D e rrid a ,” in te rvie w w ith Jean-Luc Nancy, trans. P eter C o n n o r and A vita l R o nell,
in E duardo Cadava et a l., eds., Who Comes after the Subject ? (New York: R outledge, 1991),
96-119. “C arnivorous sacrifice is essential to the stru ctu re o f subjectivity, w hich is also to
say to th e fo u n d in g o f th e in te n tio n a l s u b je c t. . ."Jacques D e rrid a , “Force o f Law: T he
‘ M ystical F ou n d a tio n o f A u th o rity ,’ 953.

93. Jacques D e rrid a , “ ‘E ating W e ll,’ ” o r the C a lcu la tio n o f the Subject: A n In te rvie w w ith
Jacques D e rrid a ,” 99.

94. “ O u a lie u u n ‘e ffe t de le ctu re ,’ s’il a lie u ? ” Jacques D e rrid a , ‘Ja, ou le fa u x-b o n d ,”
92.

D islocating Space

1. Jacques D e rrid a , “C horeographies,” 69.

2. Ib id ., 68.

3. Jacques D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n in A m erica: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” 4.

4. “W hat strikes m e w hen the question you raise is centered aro u n d the question o f place
is a ce rta in type o f deconstructive th in k in g , at least the k in d th a t has interested me
p ersonally m ore and m ore fo r some tim e now: th a t is, precisely, the question and the
enigm a o f event as th a t w hich takes place [q u i a lie u ], the question o f the enigm a o f
place. A n d here we have to proceed very, very slow ly and very, very cautiously w hen we
ask ourselves w hat we re a lly m ean by place. T h in k in g about th e question o f place is a
very d iffic u lt th in g — as is th in k in g a b o ut event as som ething w hich takes place.” Ib id ., 4.

5. F or D e rrid a , “ p o s itio n ” is n o t sim p ly som ething addressed by discourse b u t is the e ffe ct


o f discourse. To re th in k p o sitio n is th e re fo re to re th in k discourse: “As you know, decon­
struction means, am ong o th e r th in g s, th e q u e stion in g o f w hat synthesis is, w hat thesis is,
w hat a p o sitio n is, w hat co m p o sitio n is, n o t o n ly in term s o f rh e to ric , b u t w hat position
is, w hat positing means. D e co n stru ctio n questions th e thesis, th e them e, the p o s itio n a lity
o f e ve ryth in g . . ./Ja cq u e s D e rrid a , “Jacques D e rrid a on R h e to ric and C om position: A
C onversation,” 8. “ T he very idea o f a th e tic pre se n ta tio n , o f Setzung o r S tellung. . . was
one o f th e essential parts o f th e system th a t was u n d e r deconstructive q u e stio n in g .”
Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he T im e o f a Thesis: P unctuations,” trans. K athleen M cLa u g lin , in
255___________________
N ote to Pages 179-182

A la n M o n te fio re , ed., Philosophy in France Today (C am bridge: C am bridge U niversity Press,


1983), 34-50, 42. D econstructive discourse repeatedly id e n tifie s exam ples “a th e tic” o r
“n o n th e tic ” w ritin g “beyond th e lo g ic o f p o s itio n ” (o f w hich the m ost extended and
d e taile d exam ple is Freud in D e rrid a ’s “ To Speculate— O n F reud” ) and its own a th etic
c o n d itio n , w hich sig n ific a n tly determ ines its p o litic a l status: “ the deconstructive je tty in
its e lf is no m ore p ro p o sitio n a l th a n positional; it deconstructs precisely th e thesis, b o th as
p h ilo so p h ica l thesis . . . and as theme. . . . H ence th e necessity fo r d e co n stru ctio n to deal
w ith texts in a d iffe re n t way th a n as discursive contents, them es o r theses, b u t always as
in s titu tio n a l structures a n d , as is com m only said, as b e in g p o litic a l-ju rid ic a l-s o c io h is to ri-
cal— none o f these last w ords b e in g re lia b le enough to be used easily, hence th e ir relative
rare use in the m ost cautious texts called d e c o n s tru c tiv e .. . . U sing an outdated language,
one m ig h t thus say th a t th e deconstructive je tty isn ’t essentially th e o re tica l, th e tic, o r
them atic because it is also e th ic a l-p o litic a l.” Jacques D e rrid a , “Some Statem ents and
T ruism s about Neo-logism s, Newism s, Postisms, Parasitism s, and O th e r Sm all Seismisms,”
86.

6. Jacques D e rrid a , “Fors: T h e A n g u ish W ords o f N icolas A braham and M aria T o ro k,” xliv.

7. Ib id ., x x i.

8. Ib id ., 119.

9. Ib id ., x lv iii.

10. Jacques D errida, “L im ite d In c ., a b c . . . ,” 76.

11. Ib id ., 82.

12. Ib id ., 90. “ T he parasite parasites the lim its th a t guarantee the p u rity o f rules and o f
in te n tio n s, and th is is n o t devo id o f im p o rt fo r law, p o litic s , econom ics, ethics . . . e tc.”
Ib id ., 98.

13. Ib id ., 103.

14. “W hat is the place, th e taking-place, o r th e m eta p h o ric event, o r o f th e m etaphoric?”


Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he R etrait o f M etaphor,” 17. “Does the preface take place, then?
W here w ould it take place?” Jacques D e rrid a , “O u tw o rk, P refacing,” 11. “ Does the signa­
tu re take place? Where? How? Why? F o r W hom ?” Jacques D e rrid a , Glas, 3. “ Does the tid e
take place?” Jacques D e rrid a , “ T id e (To Be S p e cifie d ),” 17.

15. “ T h a t does n o t m ean (to say) th a t th e re is no ca stra tio n , b u t th a t th is there is does


n o t take place.” Jacques D e rrid a , Glas, 229.

16. Jacques D errida, “Le fa cte u r de la v e rite ,” 436.

17. Ib id ., 441.

18. Ib id ., 426.

19. Ib id ., 492.

20. Ib id ., 420.

21. “A ll the ‘ unheimUcK re la tio n s o f d u p lic ity , w h ich u n fo ld w ith o u t lim it in a d u a l


structu re , fin d themselves o m itte d o r m arg in a lize d in th e Sem inar. T hey are o f in te re st
256_________________
N ote to Pages 182-185

o n ly at the m om ent when they appear n e u tra lize d , dom inated, m astered in th e co n stitu ­
tio n o f th e tria n g u la r sym bolic system . . . W hat thus fin d s its e lf co n tro lle d is Unheim-
lichkeit, and the anguishing disarray w hich can be provoked— w ith o u t any hope o f
re a p p ro p ria tio n , o f closure, o r o f tru th .” Ib id ., 460.

22. “Le co n ce pt de crise sig n e ra it u n d e rn ie r sym ptom e, l ’e ffo rt co n vu lsif p o u r sauver u n


‘m onde’ que nous n ’habitons p lus: plus d'oikas, d ’econom ie, d ’ecologie, de site h a b itab le
‘chez nous’ . . . . La “re p re se n ta tio n ’* de crise et la rh e to riq u e q u ’e lle organise o n t to u jo urs
au m oins cette fin a lite : d e term in e r, p o u r la lim ite r, une m enace plus grave e t plus
in fo rm e , en ve rite sans fig u re e t sans n o rm e .” Jacques D e rrid a , “Econom ies de la crise,”
L a Quinzaine Litteraire, 339, A ugust 1983, 4 -5 , 4.

23. “N ’e p a rg n a n t aucune re g io n , ce m al-etre et cette m enace a ffe cte n t b e in la d e stin atio n


de l ’h u m a n ite , et m oins que ja m ais depuis cinquante ans nous ne saurions les localises
le u r assigner, p o u r les co n te n ir, u n lie u p ro p re .” Jacques D e rrid a , “ Ce que j ’aurais d it
. . .,” 85.

24. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he D ouble Session,” 213.

25. Jacques D e rrid a , “ S h ib b o le th ,” 335.

26. Jacques D e rrid a , O f Grammatology, 145.

27. Ib id ., 314.

28. Jacques D e rrid a , “Ja, ou le fa u x-b o n d ,” 62

29. Jacques D e rrid a , “L iv in g O n : Border L in e s” 104.

30. Ib id ., 138.

31. Ib id ., 146.

32. Jacques D e rrid a , “ S h ib b o le th ,” 409.

33. Ib id ., 407.

34. Jacques D e rrid a , “ D e co n stru ctio n and th e O th e r,” 107.

35. Ib id ., 112.

36. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Tam pan,” x ii.

37. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Some Q uestions and Responses,” 261.

38. See, fo r exam ple, the discussion o f “dis-closure” in the lectures on Parm enides:
“A cco rd in g to th e obvious m eaning, w hen we th in k o f the ‘op e n,’ we th in k o f som ething
opened versus som ething closed. A n d w hat is open and opened is ‘a space.’ T he open
refers to the essential dom ain o f space . . . the open refers to w hat is sp a tia l.” M a rtin
H eidegger, Parmenides, 156. I t is n o t sim ply opposed to th e enclosure it opens. O n the
co n tra ry, it produces i t “D isclosure, however, does n o t sim ply re su lt in som ething dis­
closed as unclosed. Instead, the dis-closure [E n t-bergen\ , is a t th e same tim e an en-closure
fEw ribergen] . . . D isclosure— th a t now means to b rin g in to a sh e lte rin g enclosure . . .”
Ib id ., 133.
257___________________
N ote to Pages 185-188

39. M a rtin Heidegger, The Basic Problems o f Phenomenology, 300.

40. “ T h is openess exclusively and p rim a rily provides the space in w hich space as we
usually know it can u n fo ld . T h e se lf-extending, th e o p e n in g u p , o f fu tu re , past and
present is its e lf prespatial; o n ly thus can it m ake roo m , th a t is, p ro vid e space.” M a rtin
H eidegger, On Time and B eing trans. Joan Stam baugh (New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1972),
14.

41. M a rtin Heidegger, “A rt and Space,” trans. C harles H . S eibert, M an and World, vo l. 6,
3 -8 , 4.

42. Jacques D errida, “P o sitio n s,” 84.

43. Jacques D errida, “ T h e T im e o f the Thesis: P u n ctu a tio ns,” 47.

44. Jacques D errida, “D e co n stru ctio n and the O th e r,” 109.

45. Jacques D errida, “Ulysses G ram ophone: H e a r Say Yes in Joyce,” 257.

46. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Some Statem ents and T ruism s ab o ut Neo-logism s, Newisms,
Posdsms, Parasitisms, a nd O th e r Sm all Seismisms,” 82.

47. “I d o n ’t know w hat today we should ca ll, s tric tly speaking, a p h ilo so p h e r o r an a rtist.
I am sure th a t there are in te re stin g th in g s today th a t m ust connect som ething p h ilo so p h i­
cal and som ething a rtis tic w ith o u t being a d d itio n a l to one o r th e o th er. B ut th is doesn’t
m ake a diagram , th is doesn’t draw a so rt o f ch a rt, o r cartography o f th e ir positions. I f
we rely on given tra d itio n a l p o sitio n s, we know w hat to say, we know th a t fo r a p h ilo so p h e r
as such, a rt is n o t essential. A ph ilo so p he r, in p rin c ip le , doesn’t w rite works o f a rt, w hich
means th a t he is inte re ste d in the m eaning, he is inte re ste d in th e concept, n o t in the
fo rm , n o t in the co m p o sitio n . B u t— in p rin c ip le , fro m the p o in t o f view th a t Plato was
also an a rtist, and S pinoza was also an a rtis t— fo r S ch e llin g and fo r N ietzsche p h ilo so p hy
was a fo rm o f a rt B u t since w hat I am inte re ste d in is the essence o f philosophy, th e
essence o f a rt, and I d o n ’t know w hat p h ilo so p hy and a rt should be, I have no answer to
w hat we have to do. I am sure th a t the w ritin g o f som ething w hich has to do w ith th o u g h t,
I d id n ’t say w ith p h ilo so p h y b u t w ith th o u g h t, th is w ritin g can not be an objective w ritin g
having n o th in g to do w ith the sig n ifie rs, w ith the fo rm , w ith the co m p o sitio n . So th in k in g
has an essential lin k w ith w ritin g . So here I w ill paraphrase S ch e llin g — any new fo rm o f
th in k in g im plies a new way o f w ritin g — an o rig in a lity in fo rm , b u t I am n o t sure th a t th is
o rig in a lity is w hat you c a ll a rtis tic o rig in a lity — d e co n stru ctio n in th o u g h t, it th e re is such
a th in g , is n o t s tric tly speaking p h ilo so p h ica l o r a rtis tic .” Jacques D e rrid a , “A rtists, P hi­
losophers and In s titu tio n s : A T a lk w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” Rampihe, vo l. 3, no. 3 -vo l. 4, no.
1, 1984-85, 34-36, 34.

48. Jacques D e rrid a , “F reud and the Scene o f W ritin g ,” 214.

49. Ib id ., 222.

50. Jacques D e rrid a , “Voice I I . . .,” trans. Verena A n d e rm a tt Conley, Boundary II, vo l. 12,
no. 2, 1984, 76-98, 77.

51. Jacques D e rrida, ‘“ Genesis and S tru ctu re ’ and Phenom enology,” 155

52. “I t rem ains that B eing, w h ich is n o th in g , is n o t a being, ca n n o t be said, cannot say
itse lf, except in the o n tic m etaphor. A n d the choice o f one o r a n o th e r g ro u p o f m eta-
258_________________
N ote to Pages 188-193

phors is necessarily s ig n ific a n t I t is w ith in a m e ta p h o rical insistence, then, th a t the


in te rp re ta tio n o f the m eaning o f B eing is p ro d u ce d .” Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he Ends o f
M an,” 131.

53. Ib id ., 133.

54. “M y reference to H eidegger is o fte n a reference to those places in H eidegger’s


th o u g h t w here th e question o f place is very alive and very m ysterious too. A ll th is means
th a t the question o f place is absolutely essential, b u t a ll the m ore d iffic u lt to circum scribe
and to isolate.” Jacques D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n in A m erica: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques
D e rrid a ,” 4.

55. Jacques D e rrid a , “R estitutions: T he T ru th o f P o in tin g ,” 257.

56. Ib id ., 261.

57. “ T he ghosdy is n o t fa r away. T he re la tio n w h ich unsticks b e ing fro m the e xiste n t
w ith o u t m aking som ething else o f it, a n o th e r e xiste n t, b u t m erely a nothingness, a
n o n existe n t w h ich is there w ith o u t being th e re as being present, th is re la tio n has some
connivance w ith h a u n tin g . UnheimHckeit is the c o n d itio n — take th is w ord however you
w ill— o f th e question o f being, o f its being-on-the-way, inasm uch as it (does n o t) pass(es)
via n o th in g . In Zeit und Sein, th e experience w hich relates presence to absence {Anwe-
sen/Abweseri) is ca lle d unheimUche.** Ib id ., 378.

58. "T h e unheimlichheit o f the th in g .” Ib id , 373.

59. Ib id ., 360.

60. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he Deaths o f R oland B arthes,” 267.

61. Ib id ., 295.

62. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Ousia and Gramme: N ote on a N ote fro m Being and Time," 41.

63. M a rtin H eidegger, Being and Time, 138.

64. Jacques D e rrid a , “ Ousia and Gramme: N ote on a N ote fro m Being and Time,” 41.

65. Jacques D e rrid a , “ G eschlecht: Sexual D iffe re n ce , O n to lo g ica l D iffe re n ce ,” 73.

66. Ib id ., 77.

67. Ib id .

68. Jacques D e rrid a , “P lato’s Pharm acy,” 132.

69. Ib id ., 133.

70. Ib id ., 69.

71. Ib id ., 128.

72. Ib id ., 81.

73. Ib id ., 103.
259_________________
N ote to Pages 193-196

74. Jacques D errida, “Languages and th e In s titu tio n s o f P hilosophy,” 130.

75. Ib id ., 132.

76. Ib id ., 146.

77. Ib id ., 134. “In the w estern tra d itio n , especially in th e m od e rn tra d itio n , since th e
b e g in n in g o f the n in e te e n th ce n tu ry— p h ilo so p hy is located a t th e to p o f the pyram id,
it is a p o in t fro m w hich th e p h ilo so p h e r can watch the w hole fie ld , every regim e o f the
encyclopedia. I t is the p h ilo s o p h e r w ho knows w hat th e p h ysica lity o f physics is, w hat th e
psychology o f the psyche is. T h e p h ilo so p h e r is a t th e to p o f the hierarchy, o r w hat I c a ll
th e o n to lo g ica l encyclopedia. B u t b eing at th e to p , he is reduced in fa ct to alm ost
n o th in g , to a p o in t, a p o in t a t th e to p o f th e p yram id. In p rin c ip le he has th e rig h t— to
lo o k over everything. A n d he is reduced, as we know, to alm ost n o th in g . T he p h ilo so p hy
departm ent is n o th in g . T h e discourse on the death o f p h ilo so p hy in th e western coun­
trie s, a discourse w hich started a lo n g tim e ago in th e n in e te e n th century, the discourse
on the death o f p h ilo so p hy has to d o , to some e xte n t, w ith th is in s titu tio n a l situ a tio n ,
w h ich is n o t o n ly in s titu tio n a l in th e e xte rn a l sense, it is in s titu tio n a l in th e deepest
sense.” Jacques D e rrid a , “A rtists, P hilosophers and In s titu tio n s ,” 36.

78. Jacques D errida, “Languages and th e In s titu tio n s o f P hilosophy,” 133.

79. “II fa u t protester co n tre l ’enferm em ent de la p h ilo so p h ic. N ous refusions le g itim e -
m en t Tassignation a residence . . .” Jacques D e rrid a , “Les a n tinom ies de la d iscip lin e
p h ilo so p hiq u e : Le ttre pre fa ce ” in Jacques D e rrid a , D u droit a la philosophie (Paris: G alilee,
1990), 511-524, 517.

80. “De son chez-soi p ro p re .” Jacques D e rrid a , “Les evenements? Q uels evenem ents?,”
Nouvel Observateur, 1045 H .S., 1984, 83-84, 84.

81. Jacques D errida, “Les a n tin om ie s de la d is cip lin e p h ilo so p h iq u e ,” 518-521.

82. Jacques D errida, “A t T h is V ery M om ent in W hose W ork I A m ,” 33.

83. “I t leaves place fo r th e o th e r in a taking-place o f this b o o k w here this here no lo n g e r


shuts in u pon itself, u p o n its ow n su b je c t” Ib id ., 31.

84. Ib id ., 11.

85. Ib id ., 16.

86. “From th e m om ent in w h ich the w ork o f d e co n stru ctio n makes some progress, th e
risks o f dom estication increase.” Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he D e rrid e a n View : A n Inter-V iew
w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” trans. M a ry A n n Caws, BM 104, vol. 2, no. 1, Sept. 1988, 4 -5 , 5.

87. Jacques D errida, “Ja, ou le fa u x-b o n d ,” 108.

88. “In any case, d e co n stru ctio n is n o t a p ro je ct, w h ich co u ld ju s t be present in fro n t o f
no m atter whom , a fte r some p rio r decision. N o r is it a m ethod, o r a fie ld , w hich one can
try to a ppropriate fo r oneself, o r to reduce to a hom ogenous space. M y w ork w ould be
ra th e r inscribed in a c o n fig u ra tio n la rg e r than its e lf, a m ob ile, p lu ra l c o n fig u ra tio n
som etim es fa r from th e places m ost fa m ilia r to m e (fo r exam ple: a rch ite ctu re , film , legal
studies). "Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e D e rrid e a n View: A n In te rvie w W ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” 4.

89. Jacques D e rrid a , “F orce o f Law: T he ‘M ystical F ou n d a tio n o f A u th o rity /” 931.


260___________________
N ote to Pages 196-200

90. Jacques D e rrid a , “M nem osyne,” trans. C ecile Lindsay, in Jacques D e rrid a , Memoires fo r
P aulD e M an (New York: C olum bia U n ive rsity Press, 1986), 1-43, 18.

91. “B u t is th e re a p ro p e r place, is th e re a p ro p e r sto ry fo r th is thing? I th in k it consists


o n ly o f transference, and o f a th in k in g th ro u g h o f transference, in a ll th e senses th a t th is
w ord acquires in m ore than one language, and firs t o f a ll th a t o f th e transference between
languages.” Ib id ., 14.

92. Jacques D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n in A m erica: A n In te rvie w W ith Jacques D e rrid a .”
21.

93. Ib id ., 3. T h is involves a displacem ent o f th e classical concept o f “sym ptom ” : “decon­


structio n s are n o t an enterprise. I t is already a sym ptom o f th e situ a tio n yo u ’re describing:
th is change in the tw e n tie th ce n tu ry in technology, in econom ics, in m ilita ry strategies,
these tran sfo rm a tio n s in languages, etc. I consider d e co n stru ctio n to be a sym ptom , b u t
at the same tim e, th e concept o f ‘sym ptom ’ has to be deconstructed, has to be analyzed;
it ’s n o t a sym ptom in th e sense o f a sign at the surface o f w hat is signified by th e sign. I t ’s
a sign w hich transforms th is situ a tio n , so th e concept o f sym ptom is n o t p e rtin e n t e nough.”
Jacques D e rrid a , “Some Q uestions and Responses,” 262.

94. O n the “tra n s la tio n ” o f d e co nstru ctio n in A m erica: “You are supposing th a t the
o rig in a l o f d e co nstru ctio n is n o t to be fo u n d in A m erica. I d o n ’t know how tru e th a t is.
I d o n ’t know i f th e re is an o rig in a l o f d e co n stru ctio n .” Jacques D e rrid a , “D eco n stru ctio n
in A m erica: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” 22. D e rrid a goes on to argue th a t i f it
was o rig in a lly nam ed as such in France, it was so already by way o f a “d e fo rm in g
tra n s la tio n ” o f H eidegger.

95. “ T he re is som ething French in d e co nstru ctio n , and it w ill be in te re stin g to analyze
th is. N evertheless, m y fe e lin g is th a t d e co nstru ctio n is n o t French a t a ll, and th a t it is n o t
so w e ll received in France. I t comes fro m o u tsid e.” Jacques D e rrid a , “D e co n stru ctio n : A
T ria lo g u e in Jerusalem .” Mishhenot Sha’ananim Newsletter, no. 7, D ecem ber 1986, 1 -7 , 6.

96. Jacques D e rrid a , “Some Statem ents and T ruism s about Neo-logism s, Newisms,
Postisms, Parasitism s, and O th e r Sm all Seismisms,” 93.

97. Jacques D e rrid a , “L e tte r to a Japanese F rie n d ,” 4.

98. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T he T im e o f a Thesis: P unctuations,” 45.

99. Jacques D e rrid a , “A n In te rvie w w ith D e rrid a ,” in te rv ie w w ith C a th e rin e D avid, trans.
D avid A llis o n e t al., in David W ood and R obert B ernasconi, eds., Derrida and Differance
(C oventry: Parousia Press, 1985), 107-127, 81.

100. Jacques D e rrid a , “Some Statem ents and T ruism s a b o ut Neo-logism s, Newisms,
Postisms, Parasitism s, and O th e r Sm all Seismisms,” 72.

101. Ib id ., 75.

102. Jacques D e rrid a , “A fte rw o rd : Towards an E th ic o f D iscussion,” 141.

103. Jacques D e rrid a . “L im ite d In c . a b c . . .,” 46.

104. Ib id ., 29.

105. Ib id ., 107.
261___________________
N ote to Pages 200-203

106. Ib id ., 38.

107. "T h is fo rce o f ru p tu re is d u e to th e spacing w h ich constitutes th e w ritte n sign: th e


spacing w hich separates it fro m o th e r elem ents o f th e in te rn a l co n te xtu a l ch a in (th e
always open p o ssib ility o f its e xtra c tio n and g ra ftin g ), b u t also fro m a ll th e form s o f
present re fe re n t (past o r to com e in th e m o d ifie d fo rm o f th e p resent past o r to com e)
th a t is objective o r subjective. T h is spacing is n o t th e sim ply n e g ativity o f a lack, b u t th e
em ergence o f th e m a rk.” Jacques D e rrid a , "S ignature, Event, C o n te xt,” trans. A la n Bass,
in Jacques D errida, M argins o f Philosophy (C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1982),
307-330, 317.

108. Jacques D e rrid a , “L im ite d In c. a b c . . . 76.

109. Ib id ., 55.

110. Ib id ., 82.

111. Ib id ., 97.

112. D e rrid a argues th a t th e sense in w h ich th e o ry “ ca n n ot be a p o litic a l o r p o litic a lly


n e u tra l. A n d the analysis o f p o litic a l dim ension o f a ll co n textu a l d e te rm in a tio n is never
a p u re ly theoretical gesture. I t always involves a p o litic a l evaluation, even i f th e code o f
th is evaluation is o ve rd e te rm in e d , resists classifications [such as r ig h t/le ft], and is yet to
com e— prom ised— ra th e r th a n given.” Jacques D e rrid a , “A fte rw o rd : Towards an E th ic o f
Discussion,” 132. "W hat I am saying im p lie s a ra th e r p ro fo u n d tra n sfo rm a tio n o f th e
concept o f th e ‘p o litic a l.*” Ib id ., 136.

113. Ib id ., 111.

114. Ib id ., 112. W hen D e rrid a reflects u p o n th is a rg u m e n t elsewhere, he insists on th e


necessity o f re th in k in g vio le n ce : “I ’m n o t sure i f th e re is a p u re and general s tric t ru le
fo r avoiding violence in a rg u m e n ta tio n . . . . th e re is a p ro b le m w ith violence. Some
violence cannot be avoided, so we have to elaborate sim ply, e x p lic itly the p ro b le m o f
violence, violence in academ ic discussion and so o n . . . You can’ t avoid— and you should
n o t avoid—any violence in o rd e r to avoid violence. . . . I say th a t perhaps we have o n ly
th e choice between d iffe re n t kin d s o r q u a litie s o f violence, depen d in g on th e co n text.
Som etim es a vio le n t gesture is less vio le n t, m ore d isa rm in g th a n a n o th e r and so o n . A
n o n -vio le n t gesture is possible. . . . we are th in k in g o f a good vio le n ce , w h ich w ould be
n o n -vio le n t w ith regards to th e bad violence, the e vil one. So I am th in k in g o f som ething
n o n -vio le n t and we are try in g to discuss th is and to share th is th in k in g so as to try to d o
w hat we can to avoid th e w orst vio le n ce , and even i f we ca n n ot d e te rm in e the rules and
do anything positive to avoid any violence whatsoever, perhaps in th is shared th in k in g o f
non-violence, some n o n -vio le n ce happens w ith o u t o u r ca lcu la tio n . N on-violence, o r p u re
non-violence cannot be ca lcu la te d, b u t perhaps it happens. . . . So fro m th a t p o in t o f
view ’d econstruction’ w o u ld be a dream o f such a non-vio le n ce .” Jacques D e rrid a , “A
Discussion w ith Jacques D e rrid a ,” W riting Instructed vo l. 9, no. 1 /2 , 1989, 7-1 8 , 10.

115. Jacques D e rrid a , “A fte rw o rd : Towards an E th ic o f D iscussion,” 125.

116. Ib id ., 135.

117. Ib id ., 133.

118. Jacques D e rrid a , “ T h e Law o f G enre,” trans. A vita l R o n e ll, Glyph 7, 1980, 202-229,
219
262___________________
N ote to Pages 204-205

119. Ib id ., 204.

120. Ib id ., 206.

121. Ib id ., 213.

In-C onclusion

1. “I w o uld try to elaborate the p ro b le m o f violence and to th in k w hat violence is. A n d


again if I say w hat violence is, I w o u ld have to tran sfo rm the question because the concept
o f ‘being* already involves some violence. Even th e question ‘W hat is?* is n o t to ta lly devoid
o f violence. So I w ould lik e to th in k beyond— here we com e back to d e co nstru ctio n — to
th in k beyond a tra d itio n in w hich even th e m ost n e u tra l and in n o ce n t and o n to lo g ica l
question conveys some violence.** Jacques D e rrid a , “A Discussion w ith Jacques Derrida,**
12. “ D e co n stru ctio n is firs t o f a ll a way o f n o t le ttin g yo u rse lf be im posed o n by a program
o f answers in th e fo rm o f questions. It*s a m anner o f in te rro g a tin g th e question its e lf;
the question and questions: and even the a u th o rity o f questioning.** Jacques D e rrid a ,
“ T he D e rrid e a n View: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques D errida,** 5. T he “ style** o f deconstruc­
tio n is “n o t a p ro p o sitio n a l one, b u t I w o u ld n ’t say th a t it ’s to ta lly in te rro g a tive . O f course,
it ’s m ore in te rro g a tive th a n p ro p o sitio n a l, O K, b u t th e fo rm o f th e questions, the ques­
tio n in g syntax, is n o t taken fo r gra n te d , n o t taken fo r the firs t and last fo rm o f th in k in g .
So we have to q uestion th e fo rm o f q u e stion in g , in a sense w h ich is n o t positive: I w ould
d istin g u ish between the positive, o r positions, and a ffirm a tio n s. I th in k th a t deconstruc­
tio n is ra th e r a ffirm a tiv e th a n q u e stion in g ; th is a ffirm a tio n goes th ro u g h some rad ica l
q u e stion in g , b u t is n o t qu e stion in g in the fin a l analysis.** “Jacques D e rrid a o n the U n i­
versity,” in te rvie w w ith Im re Salusinsky, Southern Review, 1 9 ,1 9 8 6 ,3 -1 2 ,9 . T h is q u e stion in g
o f the a u th o rity o f the question begins as a sustained q u e stio n in g o f “ the p rivile g e o f
questioning in H e idegger’s th o u g h t.” See Jacques D e rrid a , “O n R eading H eidegger: A n
O u tlin e o f Rem arks to th e Essex C o llo q u iu m ,” Research in Phenomenology, vo l. 17, 1987,
171-188, and Jacques D e rrid a , O f S pirit: Heidegger and the Question, trans. G eoffrey Ben­
n in g to n and Rachel Bowlbey (C hicago: U niversity o f C hicago Press, 1989). O n the way
in w h ich th e space o f p h ilo so p hy is b o th established as an “ enclosure” o r “fo u nd e d
d w e llin g ” inasm uch as p h ilo so p hy is a “com m u n ity o f the que stion ” b u t is ra d ica lly
com plicated by the am biguous status o f th e question, see, p a rticu la rly, “V iolence and
M etaphysics: A n Essay o n th e T h o u g h t o f E m m anuel Levinas,” 79-80.
References

W orks by Jacques D e rrid a C ited

“A fte rw o rd : Toward an E th ic o f D iscussion.” Trans. Sam uel W eber. In Jacques D e rrid a ,


Lim ited Inc. Evanston: N o rth w e ste rn U n ive rsity Press, 1988, 111-160.

“Les antinom ies de la d is c ip lin e p h ilo so p hiq u e : L e ttre preface.” In Jacques D e rrid a , D u
droit a la philosophie. Paris: G a lile e , 1990, 511-524.

“A ph o rism C o u n tertim e .” T rans. N icholas Royle. In D erek A ttrid g e , ed., Acts o f Literature.
New York: Routledge, 1992, 414-433.

“A rch ite ctu re W here th e D esire May L ive .” Domus 671, 1986, 17-25.

“T he A rt o f Memoires” Trans. Jonathan C u lle r. In Jacques D e rrid a , Memoires fo r Paul De


M an. New \b rk : C olum bia U n ive rsity Press, 1986, 45-88.

“A rtists, Philosophers a nd In s titu tio n s : A T a lk w ith Jacques D e rrid a .” Rampike, vol. 3, no.
3 -vo l. 4, no. 1, 1984-85, 34-36.

“A t T his Very M om ent in T h is W ork H ere I A m .” Trans. R ubin B erezdivin. In R obert


Bernasconi and Sim on C ritch le y, eds., Re-Reading Levinas. B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive r­
sity Press, 1991, 11^48.

“B efore the Law.” Trans. A v ita l R o n e ll and C h ristin e R oulston. In D erek A ttrid g e , ed..
Acts o f Literature. New Y ork: R outledge, 1992, 181-220.

“Biodegradables: Seven D ia ry Fragm ents.” Trans. Peggy Kam uf. C ritica l In q uiry, vol. 15,
no. 4, 1989, 812^873.

“C artouches.” Trans. G e o ff B e n n in g to n and Ia n M cLeod. In Jacques D e rrid a , The Truth


in Painting. Chicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1987, 183-253.

“Ce que j ’aurais d it . . .” In Le complexe de U onard ou la Societe de creation. Paris: E d itio n s


de N ouvel O bservateur, 1984, 77-92.
264
References

“C horeographies.” Trans. C h ristie V. M cD onald. D iacritics, vo l. 12, no. 2, 1982, 66-76.

Cinders. Trans. N ed Lukacher. L in c o ln : U n ive rsity o f Nebraska Press, 1991.

“C o gito and th e H is to ry o f M adness.” Trans. A lan Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and
Difference. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978, 31-63.

“T he Deaths o f R oland B arthes.” Trans. Pascale-Anne B ra u lt and M ichael Naas. In H ugh


J. S ilverm an, e d.. Philosophy and Non-Philosophy Since Merleau-Ponty. New York: R outledge,
1988, 259-296.

“D eclarations o f Independence.” Trans. Tom Keenan and Tom Pepper. New P olitical
Science, no. 15, Sum m er 1986, 7-15.

“D e co n stru ctio n and the O th e r.” In R ichard Kearney, ed., Dialogues w ith Contemporary
Continental Thinkers, M anchester: M anchester U n ive rsity Press, 1984, 105-126.

“D e co n stru ctio n : A T ria lo g u e in Jerusalem .” Mishkenot Sha’ananim Newsletter, no. 7, De­


cem ber 1986, 1-7 .

“D e co n stru ctio n in A m erica: A n In te rv ie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a .” In te rvie w w ith James


C reech, Peggy K am uf, and Jane T odd. C ritical Exchange, no. 17, W in te r 1985, 1-33.

“T he D e rrid e a n View : A n Inter-view w ith Jacques D e rrid a .” In te rvie w w ith Edward M arx.
Trans. M ary A n n Caws. BM104, vo l. 2, no. 1, Sept. 1988, 4 -5 , 8.

“Desistance.” Trans. C h risto p h e r Fynsk. In tro d u c tio n to C h risto p h e r Fynsk, ed., Typo­
graphy: Mimesis, Philosophy, Politics. C am bridge: H a rvard U n ive rsity Press, 1989, 1-42.

“D iffe re n ce .” T rans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy. Chicago: U n i­


versity o f C hicago, 1982, 1-27.

“A Discussion w ith Jacques D e rrid a .” W riting Instructor, vo l. 9, no. 1 /2 , 1989, 7-18.

“D issem ination.” Trans. Barbara Johnson. In Jacques D e rrid a , Dissemination. C hicago:


U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1981, 287-366.

‘T h e D o uble Session.” Trans. B arbara Johnson. In Jacques D e rrid a , Dissemination. C h i­


cago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1981, 287-366.

“D u T o u t.” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a . The Post Card: From Socrates to Freud and
Beyond. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1987, 497-521.

“Econom ies de la crise.” La Q uim aine Litteraire, 339, A ugust 1983, 4 -5 .

“Econom im esis.” Trans. R. K le in . Diacritics, vo l. 11, no. 2, 1981, 3-25.

“ ‘E ating W e ll,’ o r th e C a lcu la tio n o f th e Subject: A n In te rvie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a .”


In te rvie w w ith Jean-Luc Nancy. Trans. P eter C o n n o r a rid A vita l R o n e ll. In E duardo
Cadava e t a l., eds., Who Comes after the Subject? New York: R outledge, 1991, 96-119.

Edmund HusserVs *O rigin o f Geometry V A n Introduction. Trans. Jo h n P. Leavy, Jr. B rig h te n :


H arvester Press, 1978.

“T he Ends o f M an .” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy. Chicago:


U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1982, 109-136.
265
References

“E n tre crochets: e n tre tie n avec Jacques D e rrid a , p re m ie re p a rtie ,” Digraphe 8, A p ril 1976,
97-114.

“Les evenements? Q uels evenem ents?,” Nouvel Observateur, 1045 H .S., 1984, 83-84.

“Le fa cte ur de la ve rite .” T rans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , The Post Card: From Socrates
to Freud and Beyond. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1987, 411^196.

“Force and S ig n ifica tio n .” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference.
C hicago: U niversity o f C hicago Press, 1978, 3-30.

“Force o f Law: The ‘M ystical F ou n d a tio n o f A u th o rity ’. ” Trans. M ary Q uaintance. Cardozo
Law Review, vo l. 11, n o . 5 /6 , J u ly /A u g u s t 1990, 919-1046.

uFors: T he Anguish W ords o f N icolas A braham and M aria T o ro k .” Trans. Barbara Johnson.
Forew ord to Nicolas A braham and M aria T o ro k. The W olf M a n ’s M agic Word. Trans.
N icholas Rand. M in ne a p o lis: U n ive rsity o f M innesota Press, 1986, x i-x lv iii.

“Freud and the Scene o f W ritin g .” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and
Difference. Chicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1978, 196-231.

“From R estricted to G eneral Econom y: A H egelianism w ith o u t Reserve.” Trans. A lan Bass.
In Jacques D errida, W ritin g and Difference. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978,
251-277.

“ ‘Genesis and S tru ctu re ’ and Phenom enology.” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a ,
W riting and Difference. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978, 154-168.

“G eschlecht: Sexual D iffe re n ce , O n to log ica l D iffe re n ce .” Research in Phenomenology, X III,


1983, 65-84.

“T he G host Dance: A n In te rv ie w w ith Jacques D e rrid a .” In te rvie w w ith M ark Lewis and
A ndrew Payne. Trans. Jean-Luc Svoboda. Public, 2, 1989, 60-73.

Glas. Trans. John P. Leavy, Jr., and R ichard Rand. L in c o ln : U n ive rsity o f Nebraska Press,
1986.

“H ow to A void Speaking: D e n ia ls.” Trans. Ken F rieden. S andford B u d ick and W olfgang
Iser, eds., Languages o f the Unsayable: The Play o f Negativity in Literature and Literary Theory.
New York: C olum bia U n ive rsity Press, 1989, 3-70.

“Im p lica tio n s.” An in te rv ie w w ith H e n ri Rose. Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a ,
Positions. Chicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1981, 1-14.

“In te rp re ta tio n s at W ar: K ant, th e Tew, the G erm an.” New Literary History, vo l. 22, no. 1,
1991,39-95.

“A n In te rvie w w ith D e rrid a .” In te rvie w w ith C a th e rin e D avid. Trans. David A lliso n et al.
In David W ood and R o b e rt B ernasconi, eds., D errida and Differance. C oventry: Parousia
Press, 1985, 107-127.

“Ja, ou le faux-bond.” Digraphe, 11, M arch 1977, 83-121.

“Jacques D e rrid a in C o n ve rsa tio n .” In te rvie w w ith R aul M ortley. In R aul M ortley, ed.,
French Philosophers in Conversation: Derrida, Irigary, Levinas, Le D oeuff Schneider, Serres.
L o n do n : Routledge, 1990, 92-108.
266
References

“Jacques D e rrid a o n R h etoric and C om position: A C onversation.” In te rvie w w ith G ary A.


O lson. Journal o f Advanced Composition, 10, 1990, 1-21.

‘Jacques D e rrid a on the U niversity.” In te rvie w w ith Im re Salusinsky, Southern Review, 19,
1986, $-12.

“La Parole S o u ffle e .” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference. C hicago:
U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978, 169-195.

“Languages and In s titu tio n s o f P hilosophy.” Trans. Sylvia S o d e rlin d e t al., Semiotic In ­
quiry/Researches Semiotiques, vo l. 4, no. 2, 1984, 92-154.

“T he Law o f G enre.” Trans. A vita l R o n e ll, Glyph 7, 1980, 202-229.

“L e tte r to a Japanese F rie n d .” Trans. D avid W ood and A ndrew B enjam in. In D avid W ood
and R o b e rt B ernasconi, eds., D errida and Differance. C oventry: Parousia Press, 1985, 1-5.

“L im ite d In c . a b c . . Trans. Sam uel Weber. In Jacques D e rrid a , Lim ited Inc, Evanston:
N orthw estern U n ive rsity Press, 1988.

“L iv in g O n: Border L in e s” Trans. James H u lb e rt. In H a ro ld B loom e t al., eds., Deconstruc­


tion and Criticism . L o n do n : R outledge and Kegan P aul, 1979, 75-176.

“M alla rm e .” Trans. C h ristin e R oulston. In D erek A ttrid g e , ed.. Acts o f Literature. New York:
R outledge, 1992, 110-126.

“M e-Psychoanalysis: A n In tro d u c tio n to the T ra n sla tio n o f The Shell and the Kernal by
N icolas A braham .” Trans. R. K le in . Diacritics, vo l. 9, n o . 1, 4r-12.

“M nem osyne.” Trans. C ecile Lindsay. In Jacques D e rrid a , Memoires fo r P aul De M an. New
York: C olum bia U n ive rsity Press, 1986, 1-43.

“M ochlos ou le c o n flit des facultes.” Philosophic, 2, A p ril 1984, 21-53.

O f Grammalology. Trans. G ayatri C hakravorty Spivak. B a ltim o re : Johns H o p kin s U n ive rsity
Press, 1976.

O f S p irit: Heidegger and the Question. Trans. G eoffrey B e n n in g to n and Rachel Bowlby.
C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1989.

“O n Colleges and P hilosophy.” In te rvie w w ith G e o ff B e n n in g to n . ICA Documents 4: Post­


modernism, 1986, 66-71.

“O n R eading H eidegger: A n O u tlin e o f Rem arks to th e Essex C o llo q u iu m ,” Research in


Phenomenology, vo l. 17, 1987, 171-188.

“O to biographies: T he Teaching o f N ietzsche and the P o litics o f th e P ro p e r N am e.” Trans.


A vita l R o n e ll. In C h ristie V. M cD onald, ed., The E ar o f the Other: Otobiography, Transference,
Translation. New York: Schocken Books, 1985, 1-38.

uOusia and Gramme: N ote on a N ote fro m Being and Time. ” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques
D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1982, 26-67.

“O u tw o rk, P re fa cin g.” Trans. B arbara Johnson. In Jacques D e rrid a , Dissemination. C h i­


cago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1981, 1-59.
267
References

“P arergon.” Trans. G e o ff B e n n in g to n and Ia n M cLeod. In Jacques D e rrid a , The Truth in


Painting. Chicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1987, 15-147.

“La Parole Soufflee.” T rans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference. C hicago:
U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1978, 169-195.

‘T h e P it and the P yram id: In tro d u c tio n to H e g e l’s Sem iology.” Trans. A la n Bass. In
Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy, Chicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago, 1982, 69-108.

“P lato’s Pharmacy.” T rans. B arbara Johnson. In Jacques D e rrid a , Dissemination. Chicago:


U n ive rsity o f Chicago Press, 1981, 61-172.

T h e P o litics o f F rie n d sh ip .” Journal o f Philosophy, vo l. 75, no. 11, 1988, 632-645.

“P opularities: D u d ro it a la p h ilo so p h ic du d ro it.” In Jacques D e rrid a , D u droit a la


philosophie. Paris: G alilee, 1990, 525-535.

“P ositions.” Interview w ith Jean-Louis H o u d e bine and G uy Scarpetta. Trans. A la n Bass.


In Jacques D e rrid a , Positions. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1981, 37-96.

T h e P rin cip le o f Reason: T h e U n ive rsity in th e Eyes o f its P u p ils.” Trans. C atherine
P o rte r and Edward P. M o rris . D iacritics, vo l. 13, no. 3, 1983, 3-20.

“Proverb: ‘H e th a t w o u ld p u n Trans. Jo h n P. Leavy,Jr. In Jo h n P. Leavy,Jr., Glossary.


L in c o ln : U niversity o f N ebraska Press, 1986, 17-21.

“Psyche: Inventions o f th e O th e r.” Trans. C a th e rin e P orter. In Lindsay W aters and W lad
G odzich, eds., ReadingDe M an Reading. M in ne a p o lis: U n ive rsity o f M innesota Press, 1989,
25-65.

“R estitutions o f the T ru th in P o in tin g [p ointure].” Trans. G e o ff B e n n in g to n and Ia n


M cLeod. In Jacques D e rrid a , The Truth in P ainting. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press,
1987, 255-382.

T h e Retrait o f M etaphor.” Trans, by e d ito rs. E nclitic, vo l. 2, no. 2, 1978, 5-34.

“R oundtable on A u to b io g ra p h y.” Trans. Peggy K am uf. C h ristie V. M cD onald, ed., The E ar


o f the Other: Otobiography, Transference, Translation. New Y ork: Schocken Books, 1985,39-90.

“R oundtable on T ra n sla tio n .” Trans. Peggy K am uf. In C h ristie V. M cD onald, ed.. The E ar
o f the Other. Otobiography, Transference, Translation. New York: Schocken Books, 1985, 9 1 -
162.

“S cribble (W ritin g -P o w e r).” Trans. C ary P lo tk in . Yale French Studies, 59, 1979, 116-147.

“Sem iology and G ram m atology.” In te rvie w w ith J u lia K risteva. Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques
D e rrid a , Positions. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1981, 15-36.

“S h ib b o le th .” Trans. Joshua W iln e r. In D erek A ttrid g e , ed., Acts o f Literature. New York:
R outledge, 1992, 370-413.

“S ignature, Event, C o n te xt.” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy.


C hicago: U niversity o f C hicago Press, 1982, 307-330.
268
References

“Some Q uestions and Responses,” N ig e l Fabb e t a l., eds., The Linguistics o f W ritin g
Arguments between Language and Literature. M anchester: M anchester U n ive rsity Press, 1987,
252-264.

“Some Statem ents and T ruism s a bout Neo-logism s, Newism s, Postisms, Parasitism s, and
o th e r Sm all Seismisms.” Trans. A nne Tom iche. In D avid C a rro ll, ed., The States o f “Theory":
History, A rt and C ritical Discourse. New York: C olum bia U n ive rsity Press, 1990, 63-94.

Speech and Phenomena and Other Essays on HusserVs Theory o f Signs. Trans. D avid B. A lliso n .
Evanston: N orthw estern U niversity Press, 1973.

“S tructure, Sign, and Play in th e Discourse o f the H um an Sciences.” Trans. A la n Bass. In


Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference. C hicago: U niversity o f Chicago Press, 1978, 2 7 8 -
294.

“Telepathy,” Trans. N icholas Royle. Oxford Literary Review, vo l. 10, nos. 1—2, 1988, 3-42.

‘T h e T heatre o f C ru e lty and the C losure o f R epresentation.” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques


D e rrid a , W riting and Difference. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press, 1978, 232-250.

“T he T im e o f a Thesis: P unctuations.” Trans. K athleen M cLa u g lin . In A la n M on te fio re ,


ed., Philosophy in France Today. C am bridge: C am bridge U n ive rsity Press, 1983, 34-50.

“T itle (To Be S p e cifie d ).” Trans. Tom Conley. Substance, 31, 1981, 5-22.

“To Speculate— on “F reud.” ” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , The Post Card: From
Socrates to Freud and Beyond. C hicago: U niversity o f C hicago Press, 1987, 257-409.

“Des Tours de B abel.” Trans. Joseph F. G raham . In Joseph F. G raham , ed., Difference in
Translation. Ith a ca: C o rn e ll U n ive rsity Press, 1985, 165-207.

T ym p h a n ,” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy. C hicago: U n ive r­


sity o f C hicago, 1982, ix -x x ix .

“Ulysses G ram ophone: H ear Say Yes in Joyce.” Trans. T in a K e ndall and S hari Benstock.
In D erek A ttrid g e , ed., Acts o f Literature. New York: R outledge, 1992, 253-309.

“V iolence and M etaphysics: A n Essay on the T h o u g h t o f Em m anuel Levinas.” Trans. A la n


Bass. In Jacques D e rrid a , W riting and Difference. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago Press,
1978, 79-153.

“Voice I I . . .” Trans. Verena A n d e rm a tt Conley. Boundary II, vo l. 12, no. 2, 1984, 76-93.

“W h ite M ythology: M etaphor in th e T e xt o f P hilosophy.” Trans. A la n Bass. In Jacques


D e rrid a , M argins o f Philosophy. C hicago: U n ive rsity o f C hicago, 1982, 207-271.

W orks by M a rtin H eidegger C ited

“A rt and Space,” Trans. C harles H . S eibert. M an and World, vo l. 6, 3-8 .

The Basic Problems o f Phenomenology. Trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter. B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n i­


versity Press, 1982.
269
R e fe re n ce s

Being and Time. Trans. Jo h n M acquarrie and Edw ard R obinson. New York: H a rp e r and
Row, 1962.

“B u ild in g , D w elling, T h in k in g .” Trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter. In M a rtin H eidegger, Poetry,


Language, Thought. New Y ork: H a rp e r and Row, 1971, 143-161.

The Essence o f Reasons. Trans. T errence M alick. Evanston: N orthw estern U niversity Press,
1969.

H istory o f the Concept o f Time: Prolegomena. Trans. T he o d o re K isiel. B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a


U n ive rsity Press, 1985.

Identity and Difference. T rans. Joan Stam baugh. New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1969.

A n Introduction to Metaphysics. Trans. R alph M anheim . New Haven: Yale U niversity Press,
1959.

K ant and the Problem o f Metaphysics. Trans. R ich a rd T aft. B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive rsity
Press, 1990.

“Language.” Trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter. In M a rtin H eidegger, Poetry, Language, Thought.


New York: H arper and Row, 1971, 187-210.

“L e tte r on H um anism .” Trans. D avid F a rre ll K re ll. In M a rtin Heidegger: Basic W ritings. New
York: H a rpe r and Row, 1977, 193-242.

The Metaphysical Foundations o f Logic. Trans. M ichael H e im . B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive r­


sity Press, 1984.

Nietzsche Vol. I: The W ill to Power as A rt. Trans. D avid F a rre ll K re ll. San Francisco: H a rpe r
and Row, 1979.

Nietzsche, Vol. I ll: The W ill to Power as Knowledge and as Metaphysics. Trans. D avid F a rre ll
K re ll. San Francisco: H a rp e r and Row, 1987.

On Time and Being. T rans. Joan Stam baugh. New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1972.

“T he O rig in o f the W o rk o f A rt.” Trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter. In M a rtin H eidegger, Poetry,


Language, Thought. New Y ork: H a rp e r and Row, 1971, 15-87.

“O vercom ing M etaphysics.” Trans. Joan Stram baugh. In M a rtin H eidegger, The End oj
Philosophy. New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1973, 84-110.

Parmenides. Trans. A n d re Schuw er and R ichard Rojcewicz. B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive r­


sity Press, 1992.

“ . . . P oetically Man D w ells . . . ,” Trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter. In M a rtin H eidegger, Poetry,


Language, Thought. N ew Y ork: H a rp e r and Row, 1971, 211-229.

The Principle o f Reason. T rans. R eginald L illy . B lo o m in g to n : In d ia n a U n ive rsity Press, 1991.

“Rem em brance o f th e P oet,” Trans. Douglas Scott. In M a rtin H eidegger, Existence and
Being. W ashington: Gateway, 1949, 233-269.
270
References

“T he Q uestion C o n ce rn in g Technology.” Trans. D avid F a rre ll K re ll. M a rtin Heidegger:


Basic W ritings. New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1977, 283-317.

ScheUings Treatise on the Essence o f Hum an Freedom. Trans. Joan Stam baugh. Athens: O h io
U n ive rsity Press, 1985.

“T he Way to Language.” Trans. Peter D. H ertz. In M a rtin H eidegger, On the Way to


Language. New York: H a rpe r and Row, 1971, 111-136.

“W hat A re Poets For?” Trans. A lb e rt H ofstadter. In M a rtin Heidegger, Poetry, Language,


Thought. New York: H a rp e r and Row, 1971, 89-142.

What Is a Thing? Trans. W. B. B a rto n and Vera D eutsch. C hicago: H e n ry R egnery


Com pany, 1967.

What Is Called Thinking? Trans. J. G lenn Gray. New York: H a rpe r and Row, 1968.

O the r A uthors C ited

Abraham , N icolas, and M aria T oro k. “In tro je c tio n -In c o rp o ra tio n : M o u rn in g o r M elan­
ch o lia .” In Serge Lebovici and D a n ie l W idlander, eds., Psychoanalysis in France. New York:
In te rn a tio n a l U n ive rsity Press, 1980, 3-16.

Abraham , N icolas, and M aria T oro k. “A Poetics o f Psychoanalysis: T he Lost O bject— M e.”
Substance, vol. 13, no. 2, 1984, 3-18.

B enjam in, W alter. ‘T h e Task o f the T ra n sla to r.” Trans. H a rry Z ohn. In H annah A re n d t,
ed., Illum inations. New York: Schocken Books, 1968, 69-82.

Descartes, Rene. “Seventh Set o f O bjections w ith th e A u th o r’s R eplies.” Trans. John
(Nottingham et al. The Philosophical W ritings o f Descartes Vol II. C am bridge: C am bridge
U n ive rsity Press, 1984.

F reud, S igm und. “T hree Essays on th e T h e o ry o f Sexuality.” Trans. James Strachey. The
Standard E dition o f the Complete Psychological Works o f Sigmund Freud, L o n do n : H o g a rth Press,
1955, vol. 7, 1959, 125-243.

Freud, Sigm und. “M o u rn in g and M elan ch o lia ,” Trans. James Strachey. The Standard
Edition o f the Complete Psychological Works o f Sigmund Freud, L o n do n : H o g a rth Press, 1955,
vol. 14, 243-258.

Freud, S igm und. “T he U ncanny.” The Standard E dition o f the Complete Psychological Works o f
Sigmund Freud, L o n do n : H o g a rth Press, 1955, vo l. 17: 217-256.

Kant, Im m anuel. “A n Answer to Q uestion: ‘W hat is E n lig h te n m e n t? ’ Trans. H . B. N isb e t


In Kant's P o litica l W ritings. C am bridge: C am bridge U n ive rsity Press, 1970, 54-60.

K ant, Im m anuel. Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point o f View. Trans. M ary J. G regor. T he
Hague: M artin u s N ijh o ff, 1974.

K ant, Im m a n u e l. The Critique o fJudgement. Trans. James Creed M e re d ith . L o n d o n : O xfo rd


U n ive rsity Press, 1952.
271
References

K ant, Im m anuel. Critique o f Pure Reason. Trans. N o rm a n Kem p S m ith. L o n d o n : M acM illa n
and Co., 1929.

K ant, Im m anuel. Education. A n n A rb o r: U n ive rsity o f M ich ig an Press, 1960.

Im m anuel K a n t The Metaphysical Principles o f Virtue. II. The Metaphysics o f Morals. Trans.
James E llin g to n . In d ia n a p o lis: B o b b s-M e rrill, 1964.

K ant, Im m anuel. Observations on the Feeling o f the B eautiful and the Sublime. Trans. Jo h n T.
G oldthw ait. Berkeley: U n ive rsity o f C a lifo rn ia Press, 1965.

K ant, Im m anuel. “O n P h ilo so p h e r’s M ed icine o f th e Body.” In Lewis W h ite Beck, ed.,
Kant's L a tin Writings. New Y ork, Peter Lang, 1986, 217-243.

K ant, Im m anuel. “O n th e C om m on Saying: ‘T h is M ay be T ru e in T heory, B u t I t Does


N o t A p p ly in Practice’ .” Trans. H . B. N isbet. In Hans Reiss, ed., K ant's P olitical W ritings.
C am bridge: C am bridge U n ive rsity Press, 1970, 61-92.

K ant, Im m anuel. “P erpetual Peace: A P h ilo so p h ica l S ketch.” Trans. H .B . N isbet. In Hans
Reiss, ed., Kant's P o litica l W ritings. C am bridge: C am bridge U n ive rsity Press, 1970, 93-130.

K ant, Im m anuel. The Philosophy o f Law. Trans. W. H astie. E d in b u rg h : T. T. C lark, 1887.

Nietzsche, F rie d rich . The Gay Science. Trans. W alter K aufm an. New Y ork: V intage Books,
1974.

Panofsky, Irw in . Idea: A Concept in A rt Theory. Trans. Joseph J. S. Peake. New York: H a rpe r
and Row, 1968.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. “A D iscourse on the M o ra l E ffects o f th e A rts and Sciences.”


Trans. G. D. H . Cole. In JeanJacques Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses. L o n d o n :
D ent, 1973, 1-26.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. “A D iscourse on the O rig in o f In e q u a lity.” Trans. G. D. H . C ole.


In Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses. L o n d o n : D ent, 1973, 27-113.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. “A Discourse on P o litic a l Econom y.” Trans. G. D. H . Cole. In


Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses. L o n d o n : D e n t, 1973, 115-153.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Emile. T rans. Barbara Foxley. New York: D ent, 1973.

Rousseau, JeanJacques. “Essay o n the O rig in o f Languages.” Trans. Jo h n H . M oran and


A le xa n d e r Gode. In On the O rigin o f Language. New York: F re d e rick U ngar, 1966, 1-74.

Rousseau, JeanJacques. “T h e S ocial C o n tra ct.” Trans. G. D. H . C ole. In JeanJacques


Rousseau, The Social Contract and Discourses. L o n d o n : D e n t, 1973, 164-278.

W igley, M ark. “A rch ite ctu re a fte r P hilosophy: Le C orbusier and th e E m p e ro r’s New
P a in t,” Journal o f Philosophy and the Visual Arts, no. 2, 1990, 84-95.

W igley, M ark. “ H eidegger’s H ouse: T he V io le n ce o f the D om estic.” D : Columbia Documents


in Architecture and Theory, n o . 1. 1992, 91-121.
In d e x

A braham , N icholas, 143-146, 175, B e n ja m in , W alter, 3 -4 , 19, 150-151, 169,


247n66 252n70
Abyss, 39-44, 48-49, 62, 90, 94, 107, 113- B ergson, H e n ri, 72
115, 2 2 5 n l0 , 230n8, 241n63 B la n ch o t, M aurice, 150-152, 167, 203
A esthetics, 13-15, 17, 6 0 -6 1 , 6 3 -6 7 , 7 7 - B o rd e r (b o u n d a ry), 72, 126, 150-151,
78, 83-90 ,1 2 3 -1 2 9 , 131-134, 139-140, 153, 184-185, 192-193, 204
143, 244n26 2 49nl4 B u ria l, 6, 5 6 ,1 5 6 , 162, 169, 174,178,
A ffirm a tio n , 159-160, 166, 170, 186, 183, 195, 214, 216, 247n66
250n28
A lie n , 3 -4 , 111-112, 128, 140-142, 147, C elan, P aul, 153, 250n23
154, 161, 179-180, 192, 241n64 C losure, 72, 88, 144, 147, 185, 210
A lie n a tio n , 98, 109-110, 135, 158 C o lu m n, 75-76, 87, 2 3 1 n ll, 234n52,
A lte rity (other, otherness) 24, 56, 73, 235n54
107-108, 128, 134,136, 139-141, 165, C oncept, 78-79, 223n27, 235n58
171-172, 179,195, 233n43 C o n stru ctio n , 7 -9 , 18, 27, 32,59, 62, 77,
A p p ro p ria tio n , 37-38, 42, 102, 125, 2 2 2 n l7 , 227n40
2 3 7 n l4 vs. d e co n stru ctio n , 36, 38, 43
A rch ite cto n ic, 9, 32, 37, 44, 48, 74-75, C o n sum ption, 125-132, 138, 140-141,
77, 90, 164, 188, 2 2 2 n l7 , 227n40, 143, 145, 167
236n79, 241n69 C o n tra ct, 4, 125, 127, 132-135, 145,184
A rch ite ctu re between a rch ite ctu re and philosophy, 5 -
as an a rt, 13-14, 20-21, 6 4 -6 8 , 78, 82, 6, 19-22, 31, 95, 123, 217
85-87, 90, 125,131, 164, 186, 2 2 3 n l9 , C o n tro l, 26, 140, 182
2 3 1 n ll o f a rch ite ctu re , 12, 27 -2 8 , 212
vs. b u ild in g , 25, 28, 44, 93, 131, 133 th ro u g h a rch ite ctu re , 48, 60, 81-82,
as a d iscip lin e , 20-21, 30, 46, 56, 85, 88, 101, 127
98, 196, 210-218 o f o rn a m e n t 11, 8 2-84
A rt (a rtw o rk), 13, 60-61, 63 -6 8 , 78, 8 3 - o f re p re se n ta tio n , 10-11, 14, 23, 81, 127
87, 89-91, 93, 110, 124-125, 127,1 3 3 , o f space, 69, 72, 176, 198
1 4 3 ,1 5 4 -1 5 5 ,1 8 6 ,1 8 8 -1 8 9 257n47 th ro u g h space, 151, 176
A rta u d , A n to n in , 160-161, 166 Cracks, 5, 53-54
C risis, 182
Banality, 121 C ryp t, 56, 144-147, 149, 153,158, 165,
Barthes, R oland, 173, 189 167, 169, 173-176, 178-179, 184, 200,
B a ta ille , Georges, 166 230n65, 247n73, 249n6
274
In d e x

Dance, 158-162, 165, 173, 177 E re ctio n , 17, 45, 54, 61, 64, 76, 138, 165,
D eath, 68-69, 71, 77-78, 124, 133, 142, 188
145-145, 164, 167-168, 221n6, 247n73, E thics, 52, 156, 170, 201
248n78, 251n56 E xile, 113-114, 164
De M an, Paul, 45, 164
Descartes, Rene, 7, 39-40, 98, 245n41 F am ilia r, 6, 59-61, 65, 98, 102, 108-112,
Design, 20, 83, 91, 134 114-115, 117-118, 120, 142, 171, 181,
Desire, 24, 29-32, 43, 70-72, 83, 90-91, 195, 200, 217, 240n52, 241n68, 241n74
125, 126-128, 132, 143, 162, 175-176 Fam ily, 106, 109, 115, 117-118, 136-137,
D e stru ctio n , 3 7 -38, 41-42, 56, 86, 99, 159, 166, 168, 180, 238n31, 241n64,
120, 161, 164, 185, 225n9, 226n22, 241n74
226n25, 230n68 F em inine, 136-137, 165, 172
D etachm ent, 125-128, 131 F ic in io , M a rsilio , 103
D igestion, 126, 128, 130, 137, 145-145, Folds, 3, 5, 22, 27, 54, 91, 124, 126, 144,
200 169-171, 178, 195, 204
Disavowal, 6, 14-15, 71-72, 92, 186 Force, 8, 75-76, 88, 94, 107, 146, 151-
D islo ca tio n , 166, 177, 186-188, 192, 195- 152, 161, 170, 194, 199, 202, 206, 219,
197 227n37
Disgust, 139-143, 170, 174-175 F ou n d a tio n (s), 7, 9, 17, 19, 43, 47, 49,
D isplacem ent, 73, 118-119, 123, 145, 55, 64, 67, 80, 86, 89-90, 93-94, 106,
177-178, 195 133, 138, 164, 166, 169, 188, 2 2 6 n l8 ,
D om estication, 11, 107-109, 111, 118, 226n27, 227n40, 236n79, 245n41,
155, 157, 160, 166, 172, 192, 196 2 4 9 n l5
by a rch ite ctu re , 104, 107, 118, 129, 137- F racture, 70, 76, 92, 108, 145-146, 208
138, Fram e, 76, 84, 86, 197, 2 4 9 n l3
o f a rch ite ctu re , 14-15, 119, 129, 217— Freud, S igm und, 1 02,104, 115, 130, 142,
218 186-187
o f d e co n stru ctio n , 196, 198-200 Das Unheimliche, 108, 141-143, 167-168,
o f space, 129, 218 181-182, 238n36, 251n56
o f wom an, 134-137, 245n35
D om estic space, 106, 114, 117, 126, 129, G enet, Jean, 43, 76, 174, 234n52
134-136, 146, 149, 157, 161-163, 166, Gap, 2, 5 -6 , 26, 31, 84, 87, 92, 181
172, 179, 182, 247n73 G host (p h a n to m ), 144, 163-169, 173,
Dom estic violence, 107-109, 120, 146 188-189, 193, 196, 238n36, 251n56,
D oor, 152-153 252n70, 258n57
D ouble, 15, 26, 76, 82, 126, 129, 135, G rou n d , 7-1 2 , 18, 24, 40, 43-44, 51, 6 0 -
141-142, 146, 158, 169 66, 82, 86, 89-90, 93-94, 111, 115,
D raw ing, 9, 16, 20, 37, 164, 209 164, 188, 227n40, 230n8, 241n69,
D w e llin g , 77, 97, 102-103, 106, 113-114, 250n26
117, 138, 161, 171, 181, 240n52 p rin c ip le o f g ro u n d , 39-40, 48, 2 2 2 n l3 ,
2 2 5 n ll, 2 2 6 n l8
E ating, 125, 128, 131-134, 144, 167, 174, u n d e rg ro u n d , 36, 43, 94, 160
176, 244n26, 244n27, 244n28 u n d e rm in e , 36, 44, 75, 94,
Econom y, 117-118, 120, 125, 127-128, un g ro u n d e d (groundless), 7, 40, 92,
136-138, 172, 174, 182, 204, 241n74 109, 113, 230n8
E difice, 7 -9 , 16, 24, 26, 35-36, 42, 44-45,
48-50, 56, 62, 81-82, 86, 89-90, 97, H a u n tin g , 6, 72, 142, 162-171, 173, 178-
100, 105, 111, 115, 123, 133, 157, 163, 182, 186-187, 189, 196, 216, 218,
179, 2 2 2 n l5 252n68, 252n70, 258n57
Enclosure, 111, 113-114, 120, 127, 129, haunted house, 163, 165-168, 177, 188,
131, 138, 146, 158, 161-162, 166, 182, 201, 251n56
188, 194, 204, 256n38 H egel, G eorg, 36, 45, 68, 72, 76-78, 102-
Enigm as (o f a rc h ite c tu re ), 35, 50, 82, 85, 103, 129, 137, 166, 174, 190, 247n73
153, 160 H eidegger, M a rtin , 57, 225n8, 232n26,
234n48, 2 6 2 n l
275
In d e x

abyss (Abgrund), 39-41, 62, 111, 2 2 5 n l0 , stru ctu re , 10, 61, 63, 111, 113, 120,
230n8, 241n63 2 2 2 n l7
a p p ro p ria tio n (Ereignis), 102, 2 3 7 n l4 su p p ort, 8, 39-41, 62-63, 93
a rch ite cto n ic, 9, 2 2 2 n l7 , 236n79, technology, 41, 98, 101, 104, 111,
241n69 2 2 6 n l8
a rch ite ctu re, 6-7 , 59, 77, 8 0 -8 1 , 95, tra n sla tio n , 94, 2 2 5 n l7 , 236n83
230n5, 2 3 1 n ll u n b u ild in g (Abbau), 37-38, 41, 56, 99,
artw o rk, 60-61, 63-68, 87, 89, 93, 110, 226n22, 226n25, 230n68
143, 188-189 uncanny (Unheimlich), 109-112, 114-
Being (Sein), 8, 41, 111, 117-118 115, 239n40, 239n41, 239n42, 241n68,
b u ild in g , 7 -9 , 37, 3 9 -4 0 , 61, 65 -6 6 , 86, 241n70
93-94, 2 2 2 n l7 , 2 3 7 n l3 , 241n68 u n h om e ly (Unheimische), 112-113
co n stru ctio n , 8, 62, 82, 2 2 2 n l7 violence, 60, 111-112, 114-115, 146,
d e stru ctio n (Destruktion)y 3 7 -3 8 , 41, 56, 240n46, 241n69, 241n70, 248n77
99, 120, 161, 164, 185, 225n9, 226n22, w ith d ra w a l, 114, 118, 190
226n25, 230n68 H ie ra rch y, 11, 16, 27, 53, 60, 89, 107,
draw ing, 9, 37 125, 140
d w e llin g , 97, 113-114, 240n52 H om e, 97, 102, 104, 108-115, 137, 142,
e d ifice , 7, 111, 115, 2 2 2 n l5 154, 158-160, 168, 171, 181, 182, 194,
en-closure, 256n38 196, 200, 239n40, 241n68
fa m ilia r, 60-61, 65, 98, 110-112, 114, hom ecom ing, 114, 179
240n52, 241n64, 241n68 homelessness, 98, 100, 114-115, 160, 181
fo u n d a tio n , 7, 9, 64, 9 3 -9 4 , 188, hom esickness, 109
2 2 2 n l5 , 2 2 6 nl8, 226n27, 236n79 unhom ely, 112-113
g ro u n d (Grund), 7-1 0 , 39, 51, 61-66, H ost, 54-55, 88, 128, 133, 180
93, 111, 115, 188, 2 2 2 n l3 , 230n8, H ouse, 97-111, 113, 115-120, 124-126,
241n69 129-132, 134-139, 141-142, 146, 149,
hom e, 97, 104, 109-110, 112, 114-115, 157-162, 165, 167-169, 171-172, 174,
158, 239n40, 241n68 177-183, 188, 193-194, 201, 218-219,
homelessness, 98, 100, 114-115 2 3 7 n l3 , 237n39, 240n46, 251n56
homesickness, 109 H ouse a rre st, 136, 159-160, 177, 194
house, 97-104, 107, 110, 113, 115-116, H usserl, E dm und, 17, 26, 37, 41, 68, 72,
119, 188, 2 3 7 nl3, 240n46 107, 163-164
K ant, 7, 9, 37, 62, 83, 116 H u t, 131-133
language, 111, 113, 115, 191, 2 3 7 n l3 ,
237n39, 241n68, 241n70 Idea, 2, 20, 63, 73, 103-104, 112-113,
m ystery (Geheimnisvoll), 114 241n57
Nietzsche, Frederich, 112—113 In c o rp o ra tio n , 143-146, 156, 167-169,
openess, 93, 185-186, 256n38, 257n40 171-172, 174-176, 179, 201
place, 112, 241n57, 258n54 In d ig e stio n , 125, 130-133, 167, 171-172,
Plato, 112, 241 n57 174-175, 246n50
p o sitio n , 178 In h a b ita tio n , 44, 50, 56, 102, 108, 111,
presence, presencing, 8 -9 , 99-1 0 0 , 102- 128, 140, 153, 158-159, 182, 250n26
103, 113, 230n8 as strategy, 21, 24, 31, 37, 53, 100-101,
p rin c ip le o f ground, 39-^10, 48, 2 2 5 n ll, 105-106, 109, 120, 158-159, 161-162,
2 2 6 n l8 , 228n47 166
room , 111, 240n52 In sid e vs. outside, 83 -8 4 , 85, 88, 92, 104-
site, 61, 65 105, 107-108, 126, 128, 130-131, 141,
space, 77, 81, 112,115, 191, 241n57, 144, 146, 150, 154, 158, 162, 172-173,
257n40 180-181, 182-183, 193, 233n41
spatial sig nifications (Raumbedeutungen), In s titu tio n s (in s titu tio n a l practices), 4 6 -
105, 191, 238n23 47, 54-55, 138, 140, 171, 229n57,
standing, 8 -9 , 38, 41, 61, 64, 66, 97, 229n58, 229n59, 254n5
108, 188, 2 2 6 nl9, 230n5 a rch ite ctu re (as a d is c ip lin e ), 20-21, 30,
46, 56, 85, 88, 98, 196, 210-218
276
In d e x

In s titu tio n s (in s titu tio n a l practices) (con­ Language, 3 -5 , 10, 23-25, 40, 68, 70, 75,
tinued) 81-82, 97, 100, 102, 105, 111, 113,
a rch ite ctu re o f, 48, 51, 53-54, 156, 170, 115, 1 3 4 ,1 4 5 -1 4 6 ,1 5 3 , 171, 184, 188,
194 191, 221n2, 223n30, 2 2 5 n l7 , 235n54,
a rt, 65, 188 2 3 7 n l3 , 237n39, 241n68, 241n70,
cu ltu re , 15, 31, 35, 119, 216 247n73
o f d e co n stru ctio n , 53-55, 197-198 Laughter, 166
d o m e sticity o f, 162-163, 166, 182 Law, 27, 118, 135, 149-152, 154-157,
fo u n d a tio n o f, 49, 51, 154-155, 169, 159, 172, 188, 192, 201-203
228n47, 2 4 9 n l2 o f th e house, 106, 126, 136-137, 149,
m a te ria lity o f, 47-48, 54 161-162, 167-168, 172, 178, 180-181,
philosophy, 8, 12, 50, 75, 92, 119, 126, 183, 193-194, 219, 2 4 9 n l5
193-195, 259n77 L e ib n iz, G o ttfrie d , 39, 72
p o litic s o f, 4 6 -5 5 , 153, 169, 179, 183, Levinas, Em m anuel, 105, 170-172, 195
214, 229n57 Levi-Strauss, C laude, 10, 68
as p ro d u c tio n o f place, 177, 181, 183, L in e , 66, 72, 104, 131, 141, 144, 150-
188, 196-197 151, 160, 184, 190, 192, 195, 209-210,
and rep re se n ta tio n , 173 218
space o f, 48, 53, 151, 153-157, 161-162, L ite ra tu re , 79, 153-155
169, 173-174, 186, 189, 196, 211 Logos, 40, 67, 81-82, 106-7, 114, 138,
stru ctu re o f, 46, 49, 52-55, 155, 170, 191 193, 241n74
su b o rd in a tio n o f space, 68-69, 71-73,
75, 77, 124, 126, 175, 216, 218, 232n21 M allarm e, Stephane, 73, 75
university, 47-55, 154, 165-166, 186, Mask, 71-72, 109, 111, 115, 146, 209, 211
193-194, 198, 201, 228n47, 230n65, M astery, 69, 134-136, 138-139, 238n31,
236n82, 2 4 9 n l3 , 259n77 245n34
violence o f, 161, 169-170, 179, 203, M ate ria lity, 70, 103, 112, 130, 136, 145
248n78 o f a rch ite ctu re , 2, 16, 19-22, 25, 30, 59,
In te rio r, 56, 69, 62, 73, 83, 90-91, 101- 63, 67, 79-80, 86-87, 92, 94, 112, 116,
102, 104, 107, 111, 113, 115, 120, 125- 119, 126, 129, 137, 206, 208, 211-212,
126, 128-129, 132, 147, 150, 152, 157, 2 3 1 n ll
162, 166, 179, 195, o f in s titu tio n s , 47-48, 54
In tro je c d o n , 143-144, 174-175 o f o rn a m e n t, 83, 135
o f te x t/w ritin g , 77, 79
Kafka, Franz, 152, 158 M eta p h o r (im age, fig u re ), 1, 223n22,
K ant, Im m a n u e l, 50-51, 146, 194, 241n74, 2 5 5 n l4 , 257n52
245n34, 245n41 a rch ite ctu ra l, 8, 12-13, 15-19, 30, 32,
aesthetics, 13, 86, 89-90, 123-125, 127, 36, 42, 45, 59, 63, 71, 78, 82, 85, 8 8 -
129, 131-133, 139-140, 244n26 92, 9 4 -9 5 , 97-102, 115-118, 120, 123,
a rch ite cto n ic, 37, 90 130, 202, 206, 208, 217-219, 223n27
a rch ite ctu re , 13-14, 86-87, 125, 131, spatial, 17-18, 79, 104-105, 112, 176,
138, 2 2 3 n l9 191, 238n23
design, 91 M on u m e n t, 78, 165, 170, 247n73
disgust, 139-141 M o u rn in g , 143-145, 165, 174, 247n73
e ating, 244n26, 244n27
e d ific e , 7, 9, 62, 89-90, 116 N ietzsche, F re d e rich , 62, 112-113, 140,
fo u n d a tio n , 7, 9, 89-90 158-160, 166, 246n50, 250n28, 257n47
g ro u n d , 7, 9, 51, 62, 89-90 N on-place, 176, 179, 183-184, 194-195,
o rn a m e n t (d e co ra tio n ) 13-14, 83-84, 198
87, 89, 132
taste, 83, 123-125, 132-134, 244n26, O b je ct (status o f), 2, 14, 30-31, 41, 92,
u tility , 13-14, 123, 125, 132, 2 2 3 n l9 95, 124, 127-128, 130, 139, 143-145,
160, 1 63,177, 208-209, 211, 2 2 6 n l9 ,
Lacan, Jacques, 181, 238n36 227n40
Lacoue-Labarthe, P h ilip p e , 162 vs. subject, 86, 112, 198-199, 206
277
In d e x

Oikos (household), 101-102, 136-137, P u b lic vs. p rivate , 62, 135, 137, 245n35,
157, 159, 162, 168, 172, 174, 179-182, 245n41
188, 200 P u rity (im p u rity ), 3 -4 , 132, 134
O pening (open, openess), 26, 42, 70, 7 3 - P yram id, 72, 77-79
74, 93, 100, 185-187, 194-195, 197,
200, 210, 215, 233n41, 256n38, 257n40 Q uestion, 205, 2 6 2 n l
O rder, 8, 11-12, 59, 66, 71, 75, 79-80,
109, 135, 154, 159, 188, 208 R eading, 88, 124, 174-175, 203, 206-207,
O rig in , 10, 24, 40-41, 114, 152, 224n37 209, 229n57, 234n50
O rna m e n t (de co ra tio n ), 2, 11-14, 16, 2 6 - R epresentation, 41, 4 3 -4 4 , 82, 125, 127,
28, 44, 64, 82-87, 8 9 -9 3 , 116, 123, 132- 139-140, 142
135, 188-198 and a rch ite ctu re , 10-11, 14, 23, 25, 27,
O utside (exte rio r, e x te rn a l), 69-70, 7 2 - 44, 59, 63-64, 66, 87, 106, 119, 132-
73, 78, 88, 105, 127, 1 2 9 ,1 5 8 , 177, 1 3 3 ,1 7 3 ,2 1 2 -2 1 3
185, 232n21, 232n31 and house, 102, 106, 112-113, 117, 130,
134, 163
Paradigm , 25, 29, 103, 112, 118, 129, space, 160
. 1 3 5 ,1 6 7 ,1 8 0 Repression, 6, 21, 29, 44, 72, 73, 81, 95,
Parasite, 154, 161, 166, 173, 179-184, 106-109, 114, 127-128, 130-131, 140,
192, 200-201, 204, 218, 2 5 5 n l2 142, 146, 151, 155-156, 161, 172, 182-
Patriarchy, 134-137, 165, 245n34, 245n35 183, 186, 196, 207, 209, 213, 217-218,
Place, 75, 77, 92, 94, 107, 110, 112, 123, 251n56
128, 135-136, 138, 152-153, 155, 158- R hythm , 72, 75, 159, 162, 173, 175, 208,
160, 166, 176-185, 188-198, 200, 219
241n57, 241n57, 252n68, 254n4, R oom , 80, 111, 130, 167, 240n52
258n54, 259n88 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 68, 71-72, 74,
P lato, 36, 38, 68, 72, 103-104, 106, 112- 131-137, 141-142, 234n45
113, 154, 191-192, 216, 238n31, Rousset, Jean, 17
241n57, 257n47 R u in , 43, 50, 253n73
Play, 10, 23, 60, 76, 77, 106, 199
Pleasure, 72, 125, 132, 134, 144, 146- Saussure, F erd in a n d, 68
147, 149, 254n91 S ca ffo ld in g , 16, 24, 90
Police, 146, 150-160, 162, 170, 184, 192, S e a rle ,Joh n , 199-202
200, 202 Secret, 28, 44, 114, 127-128, 130, 144-
P o litics (the p o litic a l), 27, 135-137, 153, 146, 151-153, 156, 158, 164, 167-168,
155-156, 194, 201-202, 217, 252n68, 179, 184, 193, 249n6, 252n68
2 6 1 n ll2 Security, vs. insecurity, 44, 55, 115, 118-
o f deconstruction, 47, 49, 5 1 -5 5 , 120, 119, 131, 137-138, 142, 150, 152, 188,
156, 229n56, 229n57, 229n59, 154, 5 200
o f in stitu tio n s, 46-55, 153, 169, 179, Sem per, G o ttfrie d , 85
183, 214, 229n57 Sensuality, 68, 8 3 -8 4 ,1 2 8 , 134-135, 139
Poe, Edgar A lle n , 181 S ch e llin g , F rie d ric h , 93
P osition, 178, 254n5 S helter, 50-51, 77, 98, 100, 106, 109-110,
Presence, 10-11, 43, 70, 73, 8 1 -8 2 , 129, 162, 165
145, 162, 248n78, 230n8, 252n70 Sign, 4, 68, 77-78, 124-125, 132, 145,
o f the house, 99-100, 102-104, 107, 232n21, 260n93
117, 126, 130, 160, 164, 169, 188, Silence, 202-204
P resentation (presencing), 8 -9 , 23, 63, S ite, 18, 6 1 ,6 5 ,6 9 ,1 1 1 ,1 8 0
81-82, 87, 94, 113, 139, 142 S o lic ita tio n (shaking, tre m b lin g ), 35, 4 2 -
P roper (proprietary) 32, 73, 92, 101-102, 43, 46, 54-55, 70, 73, 166
137, 180 S o lid ity, 11, 31, 55, 153
p ro p e r place, 181, 195-196, 260n91 Sophocles* Antigone, 111
im proper, 22, 32, 142 Space (s p a tia lity ), 18, 67 -7 2 , 74-78, 97,
Psychoanalysis, 55, 72, 146, 168, 181, 105, 112, 115, 119-120, 126, 147, 150,
213, 234n48, 251n56 154, 158-162, 169, 172, 176, 179, 185,
278
In d e x

Space (sp a tia lity) (continued) 222n8, 223n29, 224n37, 2 2 5 n l7 ,


189-192, 198-204, 206, 209, 211, 230n68, 235n54, 236n82, 236n83,
232n21, 257n40 241n74, 260n94
Spacing (espacemenl), 69-76, 78 -8 0 , 82,
135, 137, 147, 1 4 9 -1 5 6 ,1 5 8 -1 6 1 .1 6 6 , U n b u ild in g , 37-38, 41 -4 2 , 56, 9 9 ,1 1 9 ,
173-176, 179, 183, 186-188, 190-192, 226n22, 226n23, 230n68
197, 199-200, 203, 207, 219, 232n26, U ncanny, 108-118, 120, 123, 141-143,
232n27, 233n32, 233n43, 234n47, 157, 158, 162, 167-169, 177-178, 181-
234n52, 2 6 1 n l0 7 183, 189, 200, 203, 238n36, 239n40,
Speech, 6 7 -70, 73, 78, 81-82, 106, 124- 239n41, 239n42, 241n68, 241n70,
125, 127, 160-161, 232n21 251n56, 252n68, 255n21, 258n57
S ta b ility (s ta b iliz in g ), 11, 35, 40, 42, 52, U n d e cid a bility, 50, 108, 138, 141, 151,
54, 59, 88, 93, 179, 188 155, 169, 178, 180, 183, 200
in s ta b ility (d e sta b ilizin g ), 29, 39, 48, 5 3 - U n fa m ilia r, 65, 108, 110, 114, 116-117
54, 66, 99 U nspeakable (a rc h ite c tu re ), 15, 2 1-22,
S tanding, 8 -9 , 27, 38, 41, 61-62, 64, 66, 24, 182, 219
97, 108, 155, 188, 2 2 6 n l9 U tility , 13-14, 63, 123-125, 131-132
S tru ctu re , 2, 7, 10-12, 17-18, 24 -2 9 , 4 3 -
44, 46, 49, 52 -5 5 , 61, 63, 74-76, 8 0 - V io la tio n , 28, 54, 94, 107-109, 121, 128,
82, 84, 86 -8 7 , 91, 93, 97, 106, 108, 134-136, 140, 142, 146-147, 149, 152-
111, 113, 120, 130, 155-156, 170, 179, 153, 15 6 -1 5 7 ,1 70 , 173, 176, 192, 202,
187-189, 191, 193-195, 2 2 2 n l7 , 215, 217, 219
227n40, 230n5 V io le n ce , 3 -4 , 24, 28, 31, 60, 107-109,
Subject, the. 111, 142, 175-176, 206-207 111-115, 118, 120-121, 135, 137-138,
S uperstructure, 17, 27, 63, 89, 106, 155 140, 146-147, 150-158, 161, 180, 181,
S upplem ent, 11, 25, 27, 83-84, 117, 136, 197, 200, 204, 208, 217, 223n30,
150, 154, 167, 173, 180-181, 183, 189 240n46, 241n69, 241n70, 248n77,
S upport, 8, 11, 39-41, 44, 60, 62 -6 3 , 67, 248n78, 248n80, 2 6 1 n ll4
75, 9 2 -93, 188 o f d e co n stru ctio n , 146-147, 149, 1 5 1 -
Surface, 2 -3 , 44, 207, 214 152, 157-158, 167, 170-171, 203-204,
S urvival, 4, 33, 167,169, 221n6, 241n74, 206-207, 248n77, 250n24
252n70 in s titu tio n a l, 161, 169-170, 179, 203,
Sym ptom , 197, 160n93 248n78
System (p h ilo s o p h ic a l), 36, 42, 44, 104, V ision , (visible, eye, view ) 12-15, 112,
164, 180, 236n79 124, 130-131, 139, 146, 153, 160, 178
and a rch ite ctu re , 9, 55 -5 6 , 61-62, 82,
Taking-place, 177-178, 180, 183-184, 86, 179
193-195, 197, 200, 2 5 5 n l4 V o m it, 139, 143-144, 174-175
Taste, 83, 89, 123-125, 127-128, 131-
134, 143, 244n26 W alls, 51, 108, 1 2 7 ,1 3 0 ,1 3 8 , 144-145,
Technology, 41, 98, 101, 104, 111, 163, 156, 171, 230n65
2 2 6 n l8 W a rbu rto n , W illia m , 154
Techne, 103-104 Weakness, 25, 35, 42-43, 220
T hre sh o ld , 72, 153, 184, 209-210 W indow , 87
T id e , 75, 150, 154 W ith d ra w a l, 44, 100, 114, 118, 151, 190-
Tom b, 6, 7 7 ,1 3 7 , 14 6 ,1 6 3 -1 65 , 167-168, 191
174, 247n73 W om an, 134-135, 139-141, 165, 245n34,
Topography, 144-145, 159, 252n68 245n35
Topology, 22, 150, 167, 176, 181, 187, W o o lf, V irg in ia , 165
192-194, 200 W ritin g , 68 -6 9 , 72, 75-81, 127, 135, 154,
T oro k, M aria , 143-146, 175, 247n66 164, 175, 186-187, 200-201, 232n26,
Tower o f Babel, 23-25, 31-32, 94 232n31, 248n80
Transference, 8, 191, 196, 260n91
Transgression, 146, 150, 161
Oslav 1
d e jin umeni |
T ra n sla tio n , 1 -6 , 19-20, 22-28, 30-32, ‘ AV (-.!• (
40-41, 57, 91, 92, 94, 221n2, 221n6,

You might also like