Αριστερή μελαγχολία: Η δύναμη μιας κρυφής παράδοσης

by Enzo Traverso, Νίκος Κούρκουλος (Translator)

Από τον 19ο αιώνα, οι επαναστάσεις είχαν πάντα και μια μνημονική διάσταση: ήθελαν να διασώσουν την ανάμνηση των εμπειριών του παρελθόντος για να τις κληροδοτήσουν στο μέλλον. Ήταν μια στρατηγική μνήμη, θρεμμένη με ελπίδες. Στην αυγή του 21ου αιώνα, αυτή η διαλεκτική μεταξύ παρελθόντος και μέλλοντος έχει πια ραγίσει κι ο κόσμος βρίσκεται εγκλωβισμένος στο παρόν. Η πτώση του κομμουνισμού δεν έθαψε μόνο, μια για πάντα, την απλοϊκή τελεολογία της εξασφαλισμένης προόδου, αλλά σκίασε, για ένα μεγάλο διάστημα, τις επαγγελίες της χειραφέτησης που συνδέονταν μαζί του.

Ωστόσο αυτή η νέα σχέση μεταξύ ιστορίας και μνήμης μας προσφέρει τη δυνατότητα να ανακαλύψουμε και πάλι μια "κρυφή παράδοση", την παράδοση ακριβώς της αριστερής μελαγχολίας, που διαπερνά σαν κόκκινο νήμα την επαναστατική ιστορία, από τον Μπλανκί μέχρι τον Βάλτερ Μπένγιαμιν, περνώντας από τη Λουίζ Μισέλ και τη Ρόζα Λούξεμπουργκ. Ούτε τροχοπέδη ούτε παραίτηση, η αριστερή μελαγχολία ξυπνάει τη μνήμη των νικημένων, πλεγμένη με τις ελπίδες του παρελθόντος που έμειναν ανεκπλήρωτες και προσδοκούν να ζωντανέψουν ξανά.

Κάθε άλλο παρά νοσταλγικό μανιφέστο, τούτο το βιβλίο -με ποικιλόμορφη εικονογράφηση: από τους πίνακες του Κουρμπέ ως τις σοβιετικές αφίσες κι από τις ταινίες του Αϊζενστάιν ως τα έργα του Αγγελόπουλου ή του Κεν Λόουτς- ανοίγει γόνιμο διάλογο με τα νέα ρεύματα της κριτικής σκέψης. Αποκαλύπτει με σφρίγος και με απροσδόκητους τρόπους όλη την ανατρεπτική και απελευθερωτική φόρτιση του επαναστατικού πένθους.

Genres: Politics, History, Philosophy, Nonfiction, Theory

296 pages, Paperback

First published October 6, 2016

About the author

Enzo Traverso is an Italian scholar of European intellectual history. He is the author of several books on critical theory, the Holocaust, Marxism, memory, totalitarianism, revolution, and contemporary historiography. His books have been translated into numerous languages. After living and working in France for over 25 years, he is currently the Susan and Barton Winokur Professor in the Humanities at Cornell University.

Reviews

[Tanroop · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bumping this up to 5 stars because of how often I find myself thinking about this book, and how much I feel like I learned from it. I highly recommend it!

The book can meander a bit- it touches on the Left's trajectory, emotional and intellectual dispositions, and representations- through a dizzying array of letters, films, photographs, and documentaries. It's quite a ride, but one well worth taking.

[Aatif Rashid · Rating 4 out of 5]

The idea is interesting--exploring how after 1989 the left has been haunted by the failure of communism in the 20th century--but the book isn't really about that. Instead, it's a series of disconnected essays on Marx, Benjamin, Adorno and other thinkers exploring the theme of melancholy. There is the occasional snippet of interesting analysis, but ultimately the book doesn't have a unified argument and feels mostly like a patchwork of other people's ideas.

EDIT: Still, after a year, I think about this book a lot, so I’m bumping it to 4 stars. Disconnected the ideas might be, but they’re compelling and insightful, especially in our political moment.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first ~50 pages were absolutely thrilling; the rest of the book certainly held my interest. It's quite erudite, but not written in academese. He's onto something, although I myself, and my own political circles, as left as we are, did not think of 1989 as a huge defeat or significant milestone. The Stalinist/post-Stalinist regimes of so-called "real socialism" never represented any kind of model for us, and their demise did not engender any kind of existential crisis. But I did come to appreciate Traverso's view that, especially in the context of European left traditions, 1989 was a kind of turning point, again, even for post-Stalinist currents or currents that were never in the Third International orbit. Once he's past the wonderfully explosive opening, and he settles into essays on various somewhat related themese, Traverso continued to impress. He's ultimately interested in the ways in which left intellectual traditions absorbed the teleology of the 19th century, the various forms that took, the purposes it served, the limits it imposed, the strategies for overcoming it in order to face the actually historical realities, and, in particular the reality of 1989 - the jumping off point for his analysis. Walter Benjamin emerges as a thinker of partcular significance in Traverso's analysis, and his reading of Benjamin is fascinating. At some point, however, he just seems to run out of steam, and the book doesn't so much end as recede.

[Antônio Xerxenesky · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excelente. Dei cinco estrelas apesar de algumas pequenas coisas que me incomodaram (uma visão meio maluca de políticas identitárias, uma citação incorreta, várias generalizações apressadas), pois, apesar destas, nem se compara às falhas de um Zizek (engraçadão desprovido de rigor) ou um Bauman (prefiro nem comentar). A releitura que faz de Benjamin e Adorno é muito pertinente e bem pesquisada, e a maneira como encadeia modernismo, escola de Frankfurt, cinema, Derrida, Marx, melancolia, olha, é de ficar de queixo caído. Talvez das melhores obras de um teórico pós-marxista que li desde, sei lá, "The political unconscious" do Jameson, com a diferença de que este livro do Enzo Traverso não pretende formar um monolito.

Curiosamente, o primeiro livro dessa coleção da Ayinê foi um fraquíssimo do Byung Chul-Han. A ver o que o futuro da coleção reserva.

[Rochu · Rating 4 out of 5]

Magníficos todos los ensayos de este libro. Me lo pintaron mucho más trágico de lo que lo encontré, no sé si porque yo soy muy optimista. Sí, es una historia de derrota, de una derrota enormísima, difícilmente mensurable. Pero también me pareció a mí que con lo inescapable que parece la derrota después de la catástrofe de fin de siglo, hay una nota de esperanza. La melancolía de la izquierda puede ser, después de todo, fértil y activa. Nuevas utopías pueden inventarse.
Disfruté sobre todo el ensayo sobre imágenes, que explora la mirada histórica del cine, y el que gira alrededor de la relación historia-memoria. Todos temas muuuuy en boga que hace falta discutir en este momento.

En fin, recomiendo.

[Federico Julian · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro sumamente sugerente para pensar la posición de la izquierda frente a sí misma y frente al mundo actual, a la luz de su pasado y su presente en relación con su tradición y el cambio que representa 1989.

[Sean Chick · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was intrigued by the idea of this book, particularly as the Marxist class based Left continues to recede. I was also intrigued because of the relative popularity of nostalgic communist aesthetics in the last few years. However, what I found were meandering essays on the melancholia of the left then and now, and how the two are different. It is interesting, but a bit hard to follow at times and more importantly too given to tangents. Still there are good points here, such as the different memories of World War II and asides on the images of communist as compared to Christian art. It is a solid work, but not definitive by any means. This should be read in conjunction with Gottfried's The Strange Death of Marxism.

[Georgina Koutrouditsou · Rating 5 out of 5]

Εξαιρετικός για μια ακόμη φορά!
Περισσότερες πληροφορίες :
"Mourning in America" ,Peter E. Gordon : http://bostonreview.net/politics/pete...
Συνέντευξη του συγγραφέα : https://www.versobooks.com/blogs/3077...

[Lazaros Karavasilis · Rating 3 out of 5]

How does the left encounter the melancholy of defeat in struggles, failed revolutions and semi-conducted political projects? This is the question that Enzo Traverso aims to answer in this book, providing the reader with an essential aspect of the left that we seem to forget sometimes: its connection to its own history.

Traverso starts the book with the impact of the fall of the Soviet Union on the global left and states his central thesis that the shock of defeat (a defeat of 'the left' in the most abstract sense here) is still felt today, more than 30 years later. It is Traverso's intention to develop a discussion on how the left handles mourning, melancholia and defeat in its history and in its memory. More precisely, it is through this prism that Traverso chooses to review Marxism and how the prospects of a left-wing alternative for the future do not carry the same dynamic as 100 years ago.

I would say that the book left me with some mixed feelings but with a lot of food for thought. For the first half of the book, Traverso, almost flawlessly, does an extensive analysis of the issues mentioned above. Seriously, this might be one of the best analyses on the contemporary left I have seen. But it doesn't last for long, as Traverso develops his thesis by focusing on the intellectuals: Adorno, Benjamin, and Bensaid. Acknowledging that Traverso has studied intellectual history, this focus works and does not work at the same time, as it is important to see how prominent intellectuals have encountered defeats of the left (the Stalinization of the October Revolution, Nazism, etc.), but we lose focus of how defeats have shaped parties, movements and more importantly, people. In the end, we are left with a 'history from the above' perspective that shadows the very important central thesis of the book.

Overall, it was still a good book and one that will be revisited in the future. Traverso puts clearly the impasses of the contemporary left to provide a future or an alternative Utopian goal, one that could revitalise left-wing projects all over the world.

[Elliot · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really phenomenal work- as far as sweeping works of history and theory go it's right up there with works like Jameson's Postmodernism and McCarraher's Enchantments of Mammon. Like the aforementioned books, Traverso's book weaves together an impressive array of film, art, literature, social and political history, and critical theory. I highly recommend for anyone asking themselves the questions of what utopian movements in the past have looked like, why there seems to be an abysmal lack of such movements today, and what we can do about it.

"Left-wing melancholia does not meant to abandon the idea of socialism or the hope for a better future; it means to rethink socialism in a time in which its memory is lost, hidden, and forgotten and needs to be redeemed. This melancholia does not mean lamenting a lost utopia but rather rethinking a revolutionary project in a nonrevolutionary age."

"Militancy, of course, but mourning too: mourning and militancy."

"Melancholy is the obstinate refusal of any compromise with domination."

[Júlio Viana · Rating 3 out of 5]

bom livro pra quem procura uma rápida (mas interessante) análise da esquerda atual (fala sobre o espírito de derrota e o medo do erro que assombra a ala progressista desde a queda do muro de berlim); uma boa crítica ao marxismo ocidental e seus acertos e erros e um resumo dos pensamentos de benjamin, adorno e bensaid. eu daria 3 estrelas e meia se pudesse porque algumas partes do livro se arrastam e apresentam análises que não achei tão interessantes ou bem desenvolvidas (os capítulos sobre filmes e boemia).

[Utskor · Rating 4 out of 5]

No hay ningún "tiempo del ahora" (Jetztzeit) que resuene con el pasado para realizar las esperanzas de los vencidos y garantizar su redención. La memoria del gulag borró la de la revolución, la memoria del Holocausto reemplazó la del antifascismo y la memoria de la esclavitud eclipsó la del anticolonialismo: la rememoración de las víctimas parece incapaz de coexistir con el recuerdo de sus esperanzas, sus luchas, sus victorias.

Se toma en cuenta la interacción entre memoria e historia, justamente porque la función primaria de esta última consiste en responder a una demanda de conocimiento que surge de la sociedad y es alimentada por la propia memoria. Esta, lejos de ser inmutable o estar congelada, cambia permanentemente y trasciende los recuerdos de una experiencia vivida. Las prácticas culturales, la industria de la cultura, las políticas públicas e incluso las leyes (a veces las leyes penales) tienen un enorme papel en la formación y transformación de nuestra representación del pasado. La historiografía no puede eludir en su totalidad las coacciones de la memoria colectiva, porque es ella la que sugiere a los historiadores sus objetos de investigación y moldea un habitus mental.

Me gustaría releer este libro en otro momento, con la cabeza más despejada y con más tiempo para tirar de los hilos que se entrelazan, así que me dejo unas notas para el futuro.

Este libro fue un regalo en un punto en que, debido a lo extenuante y absorbente de mi actual especialización de conocimiento, acabé por tener la sensación de que me estaba "atontando". Me encontraba en una especie de sequía en la que me acercaba a las obras de forma más pasiva, sin sentirme capaz de crítica, de tomar partido. Fue un tótem, como recordatorio en la estantería, de quien soy, o me gusta ser, y quien podría ser; de mi impulso curioso por entender; y mi intento, diminuto, por cambiar mi entorno. En definitiva, una afirmación de que no nos limitamos a habitar las ruinas de la historia y el empeño que requiere mirar a ese nuevo mundo que pretendemos construir.

Si bien esta historieta podría ser una mera anécdota anexa, la traigo a colación precisamente porque el motivo de mi disfrute de esta lectura es ese. El autor no se limita a hacer un recorrido histórico de las formas de construir la historia, como simple enumeración académica de cómo algunos pensadores o revolucionarios concebían los acontecimientos previos a ellos y cómo esto condicionó su vida y pensamiento. También ese habría sido un libro interesante. No obstante, lo que hace especial lo escrito por Traverso aquí es que nos acompaña en un recorrido sobre el desaliento del siglo actual -o término del anterior- con el fin de las utopías, que, pese a todo, acaba por germinar un sentimiento esperanzador. La narración de las derrotas, y la desesperación que sigue, no conduce a creer en la imposibilidad de una victoria final del proyecto en el que, de diferentes formas, creemos. Al contrario, ¡recuerda los motivos para seguir intentándolo!

En este punto, resulta muy iluminadora su reflexión sobre cómo la manera de pensar el pasado (la memoria colectiva) fundamenta las potencialidades que creemos ver en el futuro. Más allá de que resulte absurdo separar entre razón y voluntad, inteligencia y sentimiento; es necesario tener en cuenta que no solo importa mirar atrás para entender (por ejemplo) la correlación de fuerzas enfrentadas o las condiciones materiales que posibilitan un choque, sino que sirve a modo de mecha para encender el espíritu revolucionario. Quizás cómo explicamos las derrotas pasadas dice algo de las formas en que consideramos posible nuestra ulterior victoria. Seguramente, aquí me aleje de lo que pretendía Traverso, pero supongo que diseccionar de forma casi arqueológica también implica la asunción de que el objeto de estudio es un cadáver sin vida y sin posibilidad de resucitación (además de que requiere olvidar los anhelos y sueños que dignifican a los vencidos*).

Esto último puede funcionar siempre que no se limite a un lamento nostálgico que olvida lo que tiene delante de sus ojos. De hecho, al respecto mejor cito a Traverso "Wendy Brown interpreta la melancolía de izquierdas como "tendencia conservadora" que impide a los sujetos encontrar un nuevo "espíritu crítico y visionario". Sin embargo, es la falta de un nuevo espíritu la que desbarata cualquier intento de distanciarse del objeto perdido y superar la pérdida. Esa "tendencia conservadora" podría verse también como una forma de resistencia contra la dimisión y la traición. Así, cabría considerar a la melancolía como un proceso habilitante en el cual el sujeto experimenta una retirada o retracción del habla que hace posible el habla".

*Las revoluciones, no obstante, nunca se conciben como acontecimientos trágicos; sus actores siempre hacen hincapié en su dimensión redentora, liberadora, emancipatoria. La visión trágica del mundo procede de un sentimiento de desesperación, cuando no hay ninguna salida visible. Por eso, tragedia y revolución se excluirían mutuamente. Como visión teleológica de la historia, el socialismo no admitía la tragedia. Historizaba y metabolizaba las derrotas, eliminando o disminuyendo su carácter doloroso y a veces devastador.

[Rocío S. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Una interesante lectura que mantiene como tesis principal el dilema entre la utopía y la visión melancólica de la izquierda en la actualidad. Los cuatro primeros capítulos me han enganchado más que los últimos, no obstante, es recomendable para lectores con ganas de entender y/o repasar las corrientes ideológicas que prosperaron durante el siglo pasado.

[Laura Testoni]

Prendi il comunismo novecentesco.
Togli la fiducia nel Progresso, il feticcio della Tecnica, lo scientismo, il materialismo dialettico che conduce alla vittoria, il sol dell'avvenire, il mito del lavoro, l'estasi rivoluzionaria.
Rifletti adesso sulla dimensione utopica, sulle sconfitte e le catastrofi -celebrate ma rimosse- sui sogni infranti.
Non in chiave disincantata o conformista, ma nemmeno ritualizzata, liturgica, risentita e paralizzante.
Usa una tonalità emotiva differente, uno sguardo critico e acuto.
Fai vivere i vinti, non celebrarli.
E' un crinale stretto.
Lasciati guidare da Blanqui, Bensaid, Ken Loach.
Ma soprattutto da Walter Benjamin.

E' questo il percorso che l'Autore suggerisce in questo saggio denso ma breve, pieno di riferimenti, attuale - e per me fonte di ispirazione.

[El Lector Enmascarado · Rating 3 out of 5]

La tesis inicial del libro es que, después del final de la guerra fría, han desaparecido los escenarios utópicos.
—Bien —le digo mentalmente a Traverso—; cuéntame más sobre esto y sobre qué podemos hacer para recuperar un proyecto de sociedad justa y feliz.
—No, mejor te lees estas 150 páginas sobre Walter Benjamin, su correspondencia con Theodor Adorno y la lectura que Daniel Bensaïd hizo de aquél.
—Jo.
Lo más sagaz del libro es definir la «melancolía de izquierda» como un fenómeno histórico reciente, como un problema, más que como una reacción natural. Pero la sucesión de capítulos no es transparente y salgo con la fuerte impresión de que a partir de la mitad (capítulo V) el libro ha sido alargado de manera innecesaria y rinde pleitesía a la obsesión benjaminiana de las universidades estadounidenses.

[Juan Palomar Arcón · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro muy interesante que analiza la relación de la melancolía con los revolucionarios. Especialmente destacable para mí la descripción que hace el autor de la bohemia parisina a través de Marx, Courbet, Benjamin y Trotsky, las reflexiones sobre Marx y el anticolonialismo y la relación epistolar entre Benjamin y Adorno.

[Daisy C · Rating 4 out of 5]

this was really intimidating and took me forever to finish, and definitely is more a collection of theses than anything. I’d encourage anyone interested to skip around and read what interests them most …I recommend the chapter on communist films

[Lily]

I initially wondered if this book is the theoretical equivalent of that a e s t h e t i c jpeg of lisa simpson lying on her bed with headphones, bisexual lighting seeping through the door, the bedroom floor drenched in moonlight, but in a good way. Haven't we all been there? In between catching our collective breath at every horrific turn, haven't we looked back to the collapse of Soviet Union in 1989 and acknowledged it as the great loss? The catastrophic shipwreck which has haunted the the contemporary neoliberal world in all its bleakness? Steeped in a rich history of theory, literature and cinema, from Marx to Benjamin to Adorno to Bensaïd (so loving, this one), Traverso plunges us again and again into the heady melancholia that has always pervaded the Left, much like any utopian project (concrete or else) that reaches into the void for a better future at the same time as it sheds tears for its burial. This book is not, however, an invitation to wallowing in misery. Traverso carefully trains the reader in acknowledging left-wing melancholia as the practice of acquiring knowledge and cultivating memory. A conscious and empathetic remembrance of the past in service of transforming the present and mapping out a different future. As such, we might remind ourselves that melancholia will remain a constant wound at the heart of leftism, just as pervasive as the joy of dreaming together, dreaming a different world that is always possible.

[Andrew]

Like so many big-name theorists, Traverso is kind of all over the place. One minute, he’s talking about the melancholy and the triumph of there being no alternative after the failures of the USSR, and the next he’s talking about Benjamin’s life under the sign of Saturn, and in another he’s talking about a stream of European art films that are mostly watched by other theorists and aspiring theorists (did I just feel the harsh glare of a spotlight in my eyes?). So there’s not much of a real argument of note, and… I just wish that there’d been more of a cohesive notion of melancholy here, instead of a ragged attempt to make a bunch of historical moments, personal histories, and straight-up vibes coalesce.

[Azzam To'meh · Rating 4 out of 5]

In his book "Left Wing Melancholia", Enzo Traverso attempts to delineate the situation of the current left, and how it was shaped by a long history of defeats and, by extension, melancholic ideologues. The book begins by speaking of the demise of utopias, and how the mere mention of such a term has become unimaginable in many leftist circles. He then proceeds to speak of the demise of the Marxist dream, and how that demise was portrayed in paintings, film, and photography; hence perpetuating in the art scene. He spends some time discussing Pontecorvo specifically, whom he considered the "filmmaker of glorious defeats". After that, Traverso proceeds to describe the Bohemian spirit of the left, the type of uncontrolled liberation, and how it was manifested/perceived in Marx, Courbet, Benjamin, Trotsky, and the left as a whole; and proceeds to speak of it not only as a lovey-dovey liberatory movement, but also as one which might produce fascism and oppression. He contrasts the free Bohemian spirit with the constricted Parisian spirit. The book later proceeds to speak of Marx's view of history, how it is, and how it was to develop; with an analysis of several reading of Marx. Then the book ends with two chapters which deal with Walter Benjamin, one focusing on his relationship to Adorno, and another on his reading by Bensaid, and the disagreements which arose from the latter regarding the former.
The book falls in the middle of the leftist landscape, one ruled by the extremes of Marx's "Workers of the world, unite", and Zizek's "workers of the world, just sit and think". Traverso calls the reader to ruminate on the past, and then to attempt to organize based on that for future movements. Hence, he focused on the dialectic between Benjamin's messianic vision of history, and Bensaid's view of the absence of redemption, which tends to breed the type of melancholia witnessed in most circles today.
Traverso, in his book, aimed at describing the evolution of the dominant mood of the left. To do so, he indulges in a psychoanalytical and cultural study of the left. Hence, the reader of the book can examine the historical development of the left, as elaborated on based on the framework laid out in the first two chapters. However, one problem of the book is that Traverso rarely systematically makes a point. In addition to that, he references too many essays, films, and pictures, and as such, makes it tough for the average reader to follow throughout certain chapters. In addition to that, some chapters of the book, like the chapter on Bohemia, did not fully serve the purpose of the elaboration on melancholy. It more of gave a historical view of competing spirits in the left and their potential than anything else.
Much of the notion of melancholia in the book is extracted from Freud, who differentiated between melancholia and mourning in considering that while mourning may end up in letting go of the lost one, melancholia breeds more and more attachment, along with an extensive idealization of that lost one. One could argue, however, the for the left, it was not utopia that was lost, as it never was. It was the very reverse of melancholia, perhaps hope, which was lost. Hence, Traverso's assumption that the Left lost its utopias is not accurate. The left lost the hope of utopias. In which case, if the term melancholia is to be used, what is that which is idealized?
One important point in the development of the book is its view of the absence of a utopia. Traverso quotes Furet stating:
"The idea of another society has become almost impossible to conceive of, and no one in the world today is offering any advice on the subject or even trying to formulate a new concept. Here we are, condemned to live in the world as it is."
The following text echoes Felski's notion of the anti-normative normativity, how rejection has become the primary stance intellectuals take when dealing with anything. Traverso explains the historicity of this narrative, a long history of defeats is bound to produce the lack of exit. A revolutionary spirit crushed so well can only proceed in the form of despair.
The book examines deeply the concept of a telos for history, and attempts to view the fall of that very concept as a cause for the melancholia developed by the left. Traverso view telos as the cause of hope for the revolutionaries, and states that it fell with their fall. However, he himself does not fall into the hopelessness of Bensaid, and in prescribing to hope, he recreates the cycle of telos which will cause the extension of melancholy with a subsequent failure once more.
Of course, the book is not only a piece of theory, as it is lively manifested in the Arab spirit after the Arab spring. The rise of Sisi and the destruction of Syria not only destroyed the revolutionary spirit once present, but also destroyed the hope of any way out. Looking at the current political reality, along with rise of neo-Nazism and neo-fascism, not to mention the election of Trump, the melancholy of the Arab world echoes the melancholy of the left wing.
The book in general is on point, and describes well the left as a whole in order to speak of its pervasive present melancholia. While Traverso attempts to escape it, the general mood of the book does not. His final words, attempting to draw a possible utopia, fall short from the overall description of the book. However, the book is helpful for anyone wanting to see the psychological development of the Left.

[Francisco Castillo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro fundamental para comprender la dimensión melancólica que se inscribe en el horizonte político de las izquierdas globales, y, además, para comprender la deriva en que esas izquierdas se encuentran a partir de 1989.

[Alf Bojórquez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Demasiada información y el hilo conductor, hacer del duelo un lugar de militancia, se diluye tratando de abarcar tanta actualización sobre el marxismo. Al final parece un libro sobre la memoria y Walter Benjamin pero se desvía mucho y el último ensayo se nota inconexo con los anteriores. Son investigaciones que no cohesionan del todo, no funciona tanto como libro; pero si buscas en el índice lo que te interesa y sólo lees esa parte es una maravilla.

Ignora toda la tradición anarquista, de la que con trabajo mete a un clásico, William Morris; y todo el anticapitalismo más allá de Marx está fuera de su radar, entiendo que no sea su tema, pero ese carácter monográfico le quita peso porque tiene puntos ciegos. Las dicusiones sobre la historia, la filosofía de la historia, son deliciosas y acomoda de una manera muy inteligente las distintas corrientes de su propia posición.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a cultural history of Marxist thought, which is really a series of separate essays strung together in book form. The chapter on Bohemianism, for example, is tangential, although entertaining. Prof Traverso is well read in the sources and the general reader may find themselves skipping some passages. However, it is not over-jargonised and, although a book about Marxism, it doesn't push any particular political line, being a survey of political and cultural thought. The prompt for the writing is the 1989 downfall of the Soviet Union, a cause for the usual melancholia on the left. This leads Traverso into an extended survey of cultural attitudes, assumptions, beliefs and insights on the left. If you are not versed in this literature, or knowledgeable about such thinkers as Walter Benjamin, this book will fill a fair few gaps.

[Durakov · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is right at the intersection of two of my deepest loves and interests (revolutionary theory and melancholia) so I kind of feel like I was destined to like this. That being said, Traverso's thread binding them together is only sporadically woven, as other reviewers have noted, most consistently examined in the beginning and final sections. These parts are the best. One's enjoyment of the middle parts will likely depend on your interest in the other topics and digressions he brings into it (colonialism, Bohemia, eurocentrism, and a number of characters and figures related to these). I found almost all of these at least good (and most great), even if they were only questionably related to his theses on melancholia.

[Alberto · Rating 4 out of 5]

Una primera parte extraordinaria, compacta y acertada sobre las ideas de utopía y memoria en las corrientes políticas de izquierda, aquellas que apuestan por la igualdad como centro de su programa. Una segunda parte desdibujada como consecuencia de ser un ensayo compuesto por artículos publicados en otros lugares. De todos muy recomendable para entender la situación de la izquierda contemporánea, atrapada en la memoria de su pasado y falta de una utopía que llame a la esperanza en sus votantes y simpatizantes.

[Neal Spadafora · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonderful and pertinent book. Traverso puts forth an erudite reading of Benjamin, a sober analysis of Marx’s European shortcomings, a sharp reading of the malaise of defeat both felt and portrayed in Left politics and media, an illustration of classical critical theory’s limits, and more. Characterized by neither a politically anemic, hopeless pessimism nor the bright-eyed optimism that liberalism demands—Traverso offers a messianic vision of the End of History.

[Elías Casella · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro necesario para cualquiera que tenga un pedacito de pensamiento de izquierda en el cuore. Una recapitulación muy inteligente de los fracasos y motivaciones de sucesivos y sucesivos asaltos al cielo cuyo único defecto es forzar su hilo conductor para meter la hipótesis de que la melancolía puede ser la gran fuerza motora de las revoluciones.

[Kai · Rating 5 out of 5]

BRILLIANT...Traverso is such a good writer and rescues melancholy (and Benjamin) from the post-Brownian 1990s malaise. Crucial and creative front to back, not nearly as stodgy and myopically European as most European writers. Highly recommended!

[Maciej Jaszczuk · Rating 4 out of 5]

Książka w sposób kompleksowy, szeroki i erudycyjny podchodzi do tematu przemilczanej kultury lewicy. Walcząca melancholia, którą opisuje i analizuje włoski historyk, była napiętnowana poprzez oficjalny optymizm pozytywistycznego historyzmu głównych przedstawicieli niemieckiej socjaldemokracji i Drugiej Międzynarodówki (Kautsky, Bernstein itd.). Była uciszana przez formacje stalinowskie, ZSRR i jego sojuszników. Była w końcu (i w dalszym ciągu jest) kooptowana i unieszkodliwiania przez postideologiczną, liberalną żałobę i konsekrację ofiar.

Walcząca melancholia, którą opisuje Traverso, jest to melancholia, która jest momentem dialektycznego procesu lewicowej misji emancypacyjnej: klęska po porażce jest dialektycznie sprzężona z przyszłą rewolucją, dokładnie w ten sam sposób, w jaki widmo uciemiężonych przodków jest kołem zamachowym misji emancypacji siebie oraz swoich wnuków. Będąca przedmiotem książki lewicowa melancholia, nie jest więc defetyzmem, tak charakterystycznym dla Adorna, który nie widział żadnej możliwości wyjścia z totalitaryzmu urzeczowionej nowoczesności. Nie jest to też melancholia liberalnego kultu ofiar, który swoim skomleniem po dziś dzień zagłusza wszelkie wizje radykalnej zmiany. Lewicowa melancholia jest to dyspozycja, poprzez którą klęski i tragedie wczorajszych ruchów rewolucyjnych stają się emocjonalnym i kulturowym punktem wyjścia dzisiejszych. To właśnie z tego powodu tak poczesne miejsce w książce zajmują Daniel Bensaid oraz Walter Benjamin — myśliciele, którzy, porzucając wszelką optymistyczną i historycystyczną teleologię, utrzymywali, że misją lewicy jest dokonać odkupienia wszelkich niesprawiedliwości, myśliciele, którzy tworzyli momentach katastrofalnych dla lewicy (1940 i 1990).

Traverso sprawnie wiąże tematy rewolucji, rewolucjonistów, malarstwa, filmów, filozofów. Poprzez nakładanie się na siebie tych różnych warstw, książka prezentuje obraz lewicowej melancholii jako dyspozycji, która ma wpływ na całą lewicową kulturę. Jest to zabieg, który sprawia, że książka wznosi się na estetyczne i konceptualne wyżyny. Nic nie jest lepsze dla zrozumienia pewnej tendencji, dyspozycji, czy po prostu pewnej kultury, niż przedstawienia jako pewnej całości np. porewolucyjnych pism Blanquiego z filmami Viscontiego czy malarstwa Courbeta z filozofią Ernsta Blocha.

Książka ma kilka fragmentów, które są wspaniałe. Takim fragmentem jest dla mnie np. powiązanie myśli C.L.R. Jamesa z myślą Theodora Adorno czy fragmenty pokazujące to, w jaki sposób awangarda rosyjska po Rewolucji Październikowej zeświecczyła eschatologiczne oczekiwania wpisane w religię (Eric Voegelin mówił — pogardliwie, czyli zupełnie inaczej niż Traverso — o „immanentyzacji eschatonu”). Pewne fragmenty książki — według mnie zwłaszcza te, które opierają się na różnych formach przeciwstawianiu i próbie skonsolidowania pamięci, marksizmu i historiografii — są jednak dość nużące. Tych drugich jest jednak dużo mniej. Ogólnie rzecz biorąc książka trzyma bardzo wysoki poziom przez zdecydowaną większość czasu.

Dużo nauczyłem się z tej książki (jest ona naładowana wydarzeniami, nazwiskami, dziełami sztuki) i dała mi ona całkiem dużo do myślenia. Oceniam ją jaką książkę bardzo dobrą i polecam osobom, które w tych smutnych dla lewicy czasach szukają oparcia i wiary w to, że nie wszystko stracone. Nie można bowiem popadać w defetyzm, a melancholia defetyzmem nie jest. Można powiedzieć, w duchu Gramsciego, że pesymizm rozumu nigdy nie może zwalczyć optymizmu woli.

[Jon · Rating 5 out of 5]

After having wanted to read this book for quite some time, when I finally picked it up I had a sudden concern about left-wing melancholia as a form of paralysis, or, in the words of Julia Kristeva: "Where does this black sun come from? Out of what eerie galaxy do its invisible, lethargic rays reach me, pinning me down to the ground, to my bed, compelling me to silence, to renunciation?" In other words, if political change takes energy, persistence, mass organization, and endurance enough to take the debilitating, deadly arrows slung by rivals, isn't the passivity and reflection which characterizes melancholy (or what is often derisively dismissed as "navel gazing") more of a barrier?

Well, Traverso has another idea, which I ultimately found persuasive. Instead of paralysis, this melancholia is rather remembrance. Traverso points out that history for the left, particularly in the modern era, is best described by Walter Benjamin's famous ninth thesis in his last work, Theses On the Concept of History (translation swiped from Löwy's Fire Alarm: Reading Walter Benjamin's 'On the Concept of History'):

There is a picture by Klee called Angelus Novus. It shows a angel who seems about to move away from something he stares at. His eyes are wide, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how the angel of history must look. His face is turned towards the past. Where a chain of events appears before us, he sees one single catastrophe, which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it at its feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise and has got caught in his wings; it is so strong the angel can no longer close them. The storm drives him irresistibly into the future, to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows towards the sky. What we call progress is this storm.

According to Traverso, up until the fall in the Berlin Wall in 1989, this melancholy of history, this remembrance, was insupperable from utopia: an idea of a better future which transcends this "storm." This "storm" is exactly what we know as history—instead of a unique sequence of events which, market-like, the chaotic self-interest of the "history makers" ends up bringing us modernity (or its contemporary analog: market society), it is the bone-breaking toil of building a better tomorrow, and, Babel-like, always building toward the sky, and always overreaching, forever collapsing in on itself, which is the true motor of history.

According to the author, this repeating catastrophe as history is better realized as memory. And memory of this history is something like a communal tradition, here on the left, and maybe this tradition is something to pay attention to. Maybe it can bring back this utopic thinking, this (even) eschatological belief that a better world is not only possible, but is on the distant horizon. With such a belief, one finds a will to to what it takes to meet that horizon.

And in this way my concern was alleviated.