Jacques Derrida was a French philosopher best known for developing deconstruction, a method of critical analysis that questioned the stability of meaning in language, texts, and Western metaphysical thought. Born in Algeria, he studied at the École Normale Supérieure in Paris, where he was influenced by philosophers such as Heidegger, Husserl, and Levinas. His groundbreaking works, including Of Grammatology (1967), Writing and Difference (1967), and Speech and Phenomena (1967), positioned him at the center of intellectual debates on language, meaning, and interpretation. Derrida argued that Western philosophy was structured around binary oppositions—such as speech over writing, presence over absence, or reason over emotion—that falsely privileged one term over the other. He introduced the concept of différance, which suggests that meaning is constantly deferred and never fully present, destabilizing the idea of fixed truth. His work engaged with a wide range of disciplines, including literature, psychoanalysis, political theory, and law, challenging conventional ways of thinking and interpretation. Throughout his career, Derrida continued to explore ethical and political questions, particularly in works such as Specters of Marx (1993) and The Politics of Friendship (1994), which addressed democracy, justice, and responsibility. He held academic positions at institutions such as the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales and the University of California, Irvine, and remained an influential figure in both European and American intellectual circles. Despite criticism for his complex writing style and abstract concepts, Derrida’s ideas have left a lasting impact on contemporary philosophy, literary theory, and cultural criticism, reshaping the way meaning and language are understood in the modern world.
The reader is bound to history, but not the exclusive history of the time of reading. Slipping perspectives can result in backshading, a coloring of a text by subsequent developments. Paul de Man wrote some pieces during WWII, taken together they appear to contradict one another. Some of the pieces are morally horrific but not exclusively such by what he knew at that time. They are grossly horrific by what the reader knows now, after the fact. Derrida wrote about his friend almost 40 years ago just after de Man's death. Derrida is now dead. There are factions which continue to debate the legacy of both men. The suggestion of that may foster a smile. Yet what if questions of collaboration across Europe were soon debated, considered an opinion? Would we still be smiling?
There is a plea at the core of these pieces. I found the plea sincere.
Overall very helpful, though the de Man war essay imo is weak. I find it singularly unconvincing -- he really was trying to protect his friend -- whether he admits it or not
DERRIDA’S ORIGINAL PRAISE OF THE BELGIAN-BORN LITERARY THEORIST, AND HIS LATER RECONSIDERATIONS
Jacques Derrida (1930–2004) was a French philosopher and writer, best known for developing a form of semiotic analysis known as “Deconstruction.”
The Editorial Note to this revised (1988) edition states, “The Wellek Library Lectures are given annually as the University of California, Irvine… Since the original publication of these lectures, there has arisen a major controversy concerning Paul de Man’s wartime journalism, which came to light only in 1987. It thus seemed appropriate, for this reprinting, to add to these lectures the author’s more recent essay, ‘Paul de Man’s War,’ which first appeared in … 1988.”
Derrida says, “There is the art of memory and there is the memory of art. Art is a thing of the past… The theme of the fantastic and of the arts of ‘productive memory’ is common, moreover, despite many differences, both to Kant and to Hegel. It is intrinsically a question of an art AND of the origin of the arts, the productive source of symbols and signs.” (Pg. 64)
He observes, “Some have asked why Paul de Man always speaks of reading rather than of writing. Well, perhaps because the allegory of reading is writing---or the inverse. But perhaps also because every reading finds itself caught, engaged precisely by the promise of saying the truth, by a promise which will have taken place with the very first word, within a scene of signature which is a scene of writing. It is not enough to say, as we have so often done, that every reading is writing, it is necessary to demonstrate it…” (Pg. 99)
He points out, “The Heideggerian argument … has the following form and can be transposed everywhere: ‘The essence of technology is nothing technological.’ … Heidegger would say the same thing of all determined sciences, for example, of linguistics, rhetoric, etc. The thinking of the rhetoricity of rhetoric (within the history of philosophy, a derived and belated technological knowledge) is in no way a rhetoric.” (Pg. 109)
He states, “But look at Paul de Man: he begins by saying that finally ‘there is no need to deconstruct Rousseau’ for the latter has already done so himself. This was another way of saying: there is always already deconstruction, at work IN works, especially in LITERARY works. Deconstruction cannot be applied, after the fact and from outside, as a technical instrument of modernity. Texts deconstruct THEMSELVES by themselves, it is enough to recall it or to recall them to oneself. I felt myself, up to a certain point, rather in agreement with this interpretation that I extend even beyond so-called literary texts---on the condition that we agree on the ‘itself’ of ‘deconstructs itself’ and on this self of ‘the recalling to oneself.’” (Pg. 123-124)
In the essay, ‘Paul de Man’s War,’ Derrida [writing after the revelation of several hundred previously unknown articles---some anti-Semitic---which de Man had written in his early twenties for Belgian collaborationist periodicals] says, “To a very great extent, Paul de Man knew what he was doing… and he constantly posed questions of responsibility, which does not mean that his response to his questions was ever simple. Nonetheless… this extraordinary precociousness was sometimes paid for … by some confusion, perhaps as well a certain haste. Especially when they go together, youth and journalism are not the best protections against such confusion.” (Pg. 171)
He continues, “From the first reading… My feelings were first of all that of a wound, a stupor, and a sadness that I want neither to dissimulate nor exhibit.” (Pg. 172) He admits, “Nothing in what I am about to say… will heal over the wound I right away felt when, my breath taken away, I perceived in it what the newspapers have most frequently singled out as recognized anti-Semitism, and anti-Semitism more serious than ever in such a situation, an anti-Semitism that would have come close to urging exclusions, even most sinister deportations. Even if… no pro-Nazism was ever declared; even if the disjunctions, the precautions, the complications seemed to protect against any simple allegiance, is not what we have here the most unquestionable manifestation of an anti-Semitism as violent as it is stereotyped? Does not this anti-Semitism take over from, so as to sharpen its coherence, the ‘racique’ (rather than the racial) as it is frequently called in other texts?” (Pg. 201-202)
He concludes, “After the period of sadness and hurt, I believe that what has happened to us was doubly necessary… it had to happen one day … precisely because of the deserved and growing influence of a thinker who is enigmatic enough that people always want to learn more… Second… It will oblige all of us… to reread, to understand better, to analyze the traps and the stakes… Paul de Man’s legacy is not poisoned, or in any case no more than the best legacies are if there is no such thing as a legacy without venom.” (Pg. 247)
This is a fascinating book, and Derrida’s heartfelt dealing with de Man’s anti-Semitic writings are well worth the price of the book itself.
Il est démontré comment la critique littéraire déconstructrice se tenait à la procédure phénoménologique et la pensée de l’être, y avançant ses propres ressources rhétoriques, ainsi que la théorie des actes de parole. Ceci permet d'arriver au croisement singulier de la déconstruction en Amérique—signée par Paul de Man. Dans les trois conférences qui comprennent la première partie, Derrida, le principal de l’école de déconstruction endeuillé le lendemain de la mort de son ami et l’allié outre-Atlantique, reinterprète son héritage. Depuis la lecture, cet héritage est arrivé à la temporalité suspendue, où l'on reçoit « la mémoire du présent » (dans les mots de Baudelaire). Il en resulte que se donnent l’avenir comme la promesse du passé. Et que ce passé est à la fois inaccessiblement antécédent, et encore à venir, sinon à retourner avec ou à quiconque originarité.
Les valeurs de mémoires sont explorées à travers l’Auseinandersetzung avec la pensée de Paul de Man sur l’allégorie, les tropes et les actes de parole, la promesse et même l’archi-promesse, la singularité en général et celle du temps qui ouvre l’historicité dans le même geste aporétique qui l’interdit. Mnémosyne et Lethé sont toutes les deux attendues dans l’aporie. Depuis telle intuition illuminée, on ne peut pas procéder au récit de l’histoire (« Je ne sais pas raconter une histoire, et que j’en souffre. »). Celui-ci est donc suspect, autant que la périodisation. Plein d'aperçus ingénieux sur Hölderlin, Heidegger, Hegel, J. L. Austin, Rousseau, Proust, Wordsworth et Nietzsche. Ils, les commemorés, convergent dans la donation d’Andenken, Gedächtnis, Erinnerung, memento, l’oubli, l’épitaphe etc.
La deuxième partie suit quatre ans à la suite de l’appel à la responsabilité, pour trancher sur les années 1940s et sa politique troublée et troublante, vers laquelle de Man, jeune homme, avait précipité. L’académie et la presse en tant qu’institutions publiques ne sont pas épargnées de l’examen vigilant, que doit être visé également aux collaborations, aux complicités, sans relâche mais prudemment nuancé.
I'm still trying to work out an understanding about what Paul de Man's death did/didn't do to deconstruction. From this book, it seemed as if it took death, posthumous scandal, and mourning to highlight the capacity for a human expression of deconstructive criticism. I'm looking forward to reading Barbara Johnson's "The Wake of Deconstruction" as it seems like a logical companion to Derrida's "Memoires."
As for this text itself, I feel distant enough from it now to be reluctant to say much that is definitive. But I remember clearly being deeply moved by Derrida's interpretations of mourning and the ways that we use language to assimilate and mourn the Other, even while still living. I also remember being shaken by what appeared like implications that our grief ties itself inextricably to a mourning for our selves, and our own eventual deaths. But this is a bad summary. Read it yourself.
Je ne suis pas arrivé jusqu'au bout, c'est comme souvent avec Derrida : le lecteur déconstruit aussi le texte à sa façon. Pourtant, le propos est assez intéressant. Il s'agit de Paul de Man, un ami de Derrida. Après sa mort, on a découvert des articles écrit dans des journaux belges qu'on a qualifiés de "collaborationnistes". Derrida essaye, en analysant les textes, de le défendre, un peu comme il peut. Néanmoins, la lecture nécessite véritablement une bonne connaissance du débat, qui fut surtout américain, il y a une vingtaine d'années. Si je devais recommander quelque chose de Derrida, c'est néanmoins bien plus abordable que "La Dissémation" par exemple.
I genuinely love this book. Derrida displays a level of grief and humanity one wouldn't normally expect from him. The final essay, "Like the Sound of the Sea Deep Within a Shell" nearly brought me to tears as Derrida steps up to defend his right to grieve and forgive his dead friend. It is touching, but also academically powerful work on death and memory.
Lulls you in with some charming patter, then drops inscrutability on you. Really a pretty moving portrait of a friendship - with some profound reflections on death and names and how we show up to each other in there too.
This book, when i originally read it, almost caused me to have a nervous breakdown - it fundamentally changed not only the way i think of paul de man, but the way i look at everything from literature to language itself, to memoire and all the problems it poses.