This short and dense-ish book is everything it says on the tin. It is Barthes’ introduction to semiology, although the stress should be laid on the fact that this is Barthes’ introduction, which means this isn’t quite the walk in the park that that might otherwise imply. In fact its short length is what, if anything, counts against it, the Elements being one of those books that would have benefited from being longer, and spending more rather than less time on its subject matter. Nonetheless for those like me, who, having soused in the atmosphere of these ideas (Derrida, Deleuze, Foucault) without ever having seen them systematically laid out, the Elements is something like a skeleton-key, unlocking and explicating ideas that only ever seemed scattered and alluded to, rather than directly spelled out.
And ‘spell out’ is just what the Elements does, albeit precisely in mode of a dictionary or a reference book, providing just enough of a gloss to get the rough idea of terms and their interconnections, even if leaving one hungry for more in its wake. Consider the following then, an appetiser to an appetiser: for Barthes, semiology is basically a generalized linguistics. Linguistics applied extra-linguistically, if you will. That is, by ‘extracting’ the analytical concepts of linguistic analysis – in Barthes’ time, the entire vocabulary of concepts revolving around the ‘sign’ (signifier and signified, language and speech, etc) – one can, with some judicious tweaking, use these terms in the analysis of the world at large. From fashion to food, advertising to writing, there is a ‘vestimentary rhetoric’ no less than a ‘alimentary language’, each of which can be analysed by way of linguistic terms.
It’s an ambitious project – one involving the explication not only of complex and highly technical terms from the then-nascent science of linguistics, but also the concrete analysis of all sorts of objects and systems in the world. Exactly how much of this semiological project remains active today remains something of a question, which gives this book the feel of a historical document as much as a technical pamphlet, each an aspect of interest on its own terms. On a personal note, it was an absolute delight to find here, laid out, as if an obvious set of terms de rigueur, what I otherwise thought were mostly idiosyncratic, made-up expressions from Deleuze and Guattari’s A Thousand Plateaus: neologisms like ‘form of content’ and ‘substance of expression’ – as it turns out, perfectly standard terms from (60s French) linguistics. Who knew? (OK, I, kinda, but not to this extent).