Featuring the first English translation of Jean Bruno’s “Illumination Techniques of Georges Bataille” (1963), this edited collection brings together an internationally renowned and interdisciplinary group of scholars to commemorate the 85th anniversary of the inaugural issue of the French interwar avant-garde journal founded by Bataille, Acéphale: Religion, Sociologie, Philosophie (June 24 1936). In so doing, it also broaches the “ferociously religious” esoteric activity of the eponymous secret society, as well as the “sacred sociology” of the Acéphale-affiliated Collège de Sociologie.
Very disappointed. Poor collection of writings and only few pieces offer genuine scholarship or any new insights on Bataille. They think they embody the spirit of Acéphale, but only managed to showcase the reader modern theoretical narcissism at its best. Few papers in this book are actually quite good and definitely worth reading, which made me further feel if is truly a shame to see those respected scholars in the same book together with those ‘I have a PhD in “critical diverse queer media continental Batailleian French philosophical studies”.’
Stick to the older generation Bataille scholars and you will appreciate more of his infinite insightfulness. Acéphale doesn’t need this ostentatious commemoration.
One of the (grotty, generationally contingent, critical and queer) contributors to this weighty tome here, just made an account especially to thank the other reviewer, Travis Sun (who disappointingly has felt the need to limit responses to their review) for the flattering, and hopefully accurate characterisation of our collective work as 'ostentatious' and queer. One, and I must say, Bataille, would certainly hope so.
I do aim more towards the exploitation of Bataille, rather than commemoration, however, given who and what he was in the world. And seeing as Bataille was the guy who got kicked out of surrealism for being too much of a weirdo, I imagine he had approximately Nietzsche's sympathy for textual traditionalists and old guards anyway. So if headlessness has taught me anything, it's to follow my labyrinthine gut towards my own gay-arse ideas.