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390 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1984
I first learned of Foucault from old issues of AdBusters circa 2004-2006, while I was still in high school. Growing up in a rural area, I had limited access to books. I’d occasionally look for Foucault at the Barnes and Noble in Fargo or whatever used bookstore I happened upon, but to no avail (in hindsight, it is likely enough they carried Foucault - I just had no idea where to look). When I finally started college, I was shocked to discover the library had mounds upon mounds of well-worn Foucault. Not only did they have his books, but they had been read by others! At this point, I still had no idea how to pronounce his name, and I had no idea what book or books were the “important” ones. Foucault Reader seemed like a sufficiently generic title, and it had a few interviews, so I figured I could check that one out, too. (I knew from Chomsky that if the original writing is too opaque, an interview can clarify things tremendously.)
Somehow or other I read in an issue of AdBusters about Alexander Nehamas’ book The Art of Living: Socratic Reflections from Plato to Foucault; I’m not sure the exact chronology but I read it along with The Foucault Reader, The History of Sexuality, and Discipline and Punish in my first semester of college. I spent a lot of time in the library or in my apartment, reading books that I’d never be assigned in my regular course work. My own reading, solitary and aimless and unsystematic, was, of course, not very good! I understood Discipline and Punish fairly well; I misinterpreted The History of Sexuality. I had no real context for the first section of texts in The Foucault Reader (the rise and eclipse of a 1960s French radicalism heavily influenced by Maoism and the Cultural Revolution and the concurrent vicissitudes of French intellectual life). The extent to which Foucault would stand in indirect and often direct contradiction to Marxism was not yet clear to me. That Foucault was fundamentally an anti-revolutionary thinker, in the sense that he was profoundly critical of the traditional Leninist (or, for that matter, classical anarchist) model of revolution, was not something I fully appreciated at this point. All radical thought, rather, was One Big Univocal Thing to me.
There was, simply, something exotic and cryptic about Foucault, and about “French Theory”. The books were often big and foreboding. I never took to Derrida - too cryptic and moreover, not even orthogonally political. I would try to discuss Foucault with friends I knew through the hardcore scene - look, Foucault is mentioned in Refused’s final statement! In the lyrics to that one Orchid song! - but to no avail.
And so things stood for my undergraduate education. Aside from a brief excerpt of “Nietzsche, Genealogy, History” in a class on women writers, I never encountered Foucault in my actual coursework. When it came time for me to attend graduate school at the New School, a familiarity with Foucault was more or less expected. Both the anti-Marxist and the Marxisant professors could at least agree that he was an important figure.
We read Discipline and Punish in my contemporary sociological theory class; there seemed to be a consensus - Foucault was a poor historian and social scientist, but his theorization of power was an original and important contribution to the canon of sociological theory. His name came up in nearly all my coursework, but it seemed like the predominant interpretation now was that he was, ultimately, a conservative thinker. A radical not in service of reaction, but definitely a radical in service against revolution. A theorist of social change in fundamental opposition to molar revolution. No proponent of molecular revolution, either, but a simple observer. It isn’t that resistance is good or bad, it just is.
I wasn’t particularly interested in this Foucault, that is, the “real” Foucault. I was interested in the Foucault who was a revolutionary. “Where there is power, there is resistance” is meant as a tautology in Foucault’s words; it wasn’t, as I had thought at 19, a hopeful call to arms. After all, Refused mentioned Foucault in their final press release. (Surely there must be a synthesis between “I’ve got a bone to pick with capitalism, and a few to break” and the gratuitous pomposity of comparing themselves to Baudrillard, Foucault, Derrida, Debord, “and so on”?)
Many years later I reread the Chomsky-Foucault debate from the other direction - I had determined it was time to sit down and really understand Chomsky the linguist and philosopher of mind. As it was still one of the less directly politically didactic Chomsky books I owned, I picked up the debate (a book that had traveled along with me across 3 time zones and 4 states). It struck me like a bolt of lightning how truly weak Foucault’s case was. Significant changes were already underway in Foucault’s conception of the world but even then - it is striking how thin gruel his “arguments” truly are in the debate, and, moreover, how truly thin his own understanding of Chomsky seems to be. Suddenly Foucault’s own predilection for French authors seems less like a sign of sophistication and more like a symptom of his own parochialism.
Now it is several years later than that. I am sitting down to write about my Foucault and, even moreso, write about my own dumb little life. I am immediately struck by two aspects of Foucault’s writing, particularly the first section of The Foucault Reader, which consists of texts otherwise difficult to find in English. First, it is generally quite clear what he is saying. Foucault’s legendary opacity is effectively just that: a legend. Contra my undergraduate analytic philosophy professors, Foucault is not Derrida. (They were, in fact, two entirely different people!) Secondly, I am struck by just how thorough Foucault’s anti-revolutionary outlook truly is. While the cause of the subaltern (a term he does not use) is one of Foucault’s major concerns, he is also not particularly interested in overturning the order which has produced the subaltern. What would that accomplish, after all? As I read Foucault at age 19, it seemed clear Foucault was arguing against reformism - but it strikes me now how thoroughly his critique is against reform, revolution, and, just to be safe, the existent as well.