My updated review
5 Stars.
My review below as a frustrated PhD student hating my life, where I gave this text 2 stars.
Deliberate obfuscation, messy and full of subtle self aggrandizing. A more interesting text would be Derrida as a foreigner but also a sophist. He spends time analysing Socrates embrace of the foreigner, as he doesn't use, abuse or understand the rhetoric of the courts, but ironically Derrida would be fitting of the sophistry that Socrates attacked. The narrative here is at odds with itself consistently, even the book cover is at odds with the Derrida persona. He famously didn't allow photographs of himself to be used until later in his career and here is a photograph which is intensely narcissistic, gazing and posing. What do these things say? Was he aware of these points? Detractors would say that he was, that it was a deliberate deconstruction of himself? Derrida hated biography and didn't want to talk about himself at all, it was always an artificial distance that he created in embracing a deconstructive subjectivity that didn't allow subjectivity. Doesn't this make him a foreigner? that his ideas don't fit anywhere? and he is a contentious, playful, infuriating writer without standard academic purposes or intentions? What has Derrida to say on surveillance but the most banal? (See page 54/55).
Concepts can be siphoned from the muddy narrative and have been used in interesting ways but rarely developed much beyond the act of naming. Unconditional hospitality and conditional hospitality are examples of this. Within the literature these terms are used and the citation is span amongst a brief explanation of the idea, often more illuminating than this text, but that's where it stops. Used in conjunction with Levinas, the work can have moments of application and of value. Deconstruction on hospitality is a task that has infinite potential but the focus needs to be on expressiveness, creativity and clarity with meat for the reader to chew on. Something that this text rarely offers and is self aware at its lack, almost haughtily so. The juxtaposition of the two texts adds nothing to either, it's stylistic incongruity means nothing. They must be read separately but they are together, this choice is representative of the foreigner of course. What does this do for the reader? Is Derrida trying to create this unease, this lack of cohesiveness? Again, this seems to be the projections of myself filling in the blanks and trying to make sense. Is Derrida aware that using the I in the way he does without incorporation of himself, is recreating the foreigner? I honestly have no idea
The task would be to strip this text and rewrite it using the occasional nuggets of wisdom that Derrida provides, using the author's voice and experience as a key. Writing about the foreigner from the third person actually means that you are writing from the position of authority. Writing from the third academically presupposes a distinct objective predicated on distance. Writing therefore needs to be first person when addressing the other and it needs to include the author as part of the story, for simply writing about 'others' can have the same problem mentioned.