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Monday, May 6, 2013

The Dialectic of Libido in "Elles"

A paper I wrote for a philosophy class... it's not that insightful, but hey...

The Dialectic of Libido in Elles

I. Introduction

The study of the intersections of sex and markets can be taken up from a wide variety of angles, yielding wildly different results. Always during the struggle for method, a heightened awareness of assumptions is important, for often it is the implicit entry point of a theory that goes without being adequately constructed or critiqued. For these reasons, methodological questions have a prominent place in the following analysis, and in our investigations, it will be found that questions of method are, for this specific topic, sites of unusually intense and contradictory claims and interactions. Emerging from the centrality of our to-be-specified method, a triple-movement takes place, one in which successive contextualization is carried out on previously-abstract concepts. Needless to say, the interconnections between our concepts must be paid special attention to, as it is upon them that the whole analysis rests. The legitimacy of the passage from the abstract to the concrete is one that, besides the special although highly important case of “real abstraction”, takes place in the first instance within the sphere of thought, although then it may react back upon the social relations from which it sprung. At every level, then, the form of our analysis must be that of the social, in the broad Marxian sense. This stipulation manifests itself initially at only a general (and almost laughably so) level—that of the Lyotardian theory of libido put forth in Libidinal Economy. That stage of analysis will at first appear to need more justification than is given. However, following Marx's example in the first several chapters of volume 1 of Capital, we shall develop the concept and take account of a great number of tensions that shape and transform our first rough sketch into a more substantial and relevant expression of the essence of Elles. After this, libido will be connected, grounded into the materiality of a body, a body that is influenced and indeed nearly determined by the social discourses which surround it. Finally, at the third and last conceptual move we shall encounter the intersection of our social bodies with the pure and dominant form of social synthesis existing in all societies based on commodity production—the act of commodity exchange. It is only at this developed stage that we shall be able to look back at the initial decision of having libido as our entry point with an informed eye.

In our analysis, the following ordering of presentation is adhered to, though this ordering may not be the same as the real dialectical movement which it seeks to model: method and interconnections; libido (abstract); sexuality (libido + materiality); sex work (sexuality + commodification); conclusion.

II. Method and Interconnections

A more in-depth discussion of method in general, and then of methods in particular, is in order. For an essentially hermaneutic activity such as social analysis, especially regarding a film, method, as mentioned above, plays an exceedingly important role. The various entry-points and focuses brought up in the course of differing methods of analysis testifies to this: are we to speak of the individual ethics of participation or non-participation in sex markets, and thus take the individual as a moral agent to be our entry-point? Or are we rather to take societal structure and the various roles inhabited by those individuals to be fundamental? The framework we choose will have a definite effect upon the types of things we can say, and it is perhaps superfluous to say that this has a definite influence on how we think about these problems. Staying in the dark, refusing to admit the existence of the frameworks and discourses we inhabit is a sure route to utter failure.

What criteria can there be for such an all-important decision as the selection of a method? The first few things to consider are what the alternatives are, what they are allowed to describe, the accuracy of those descriptions, and finally the conclusions wrought by those alternatives. It is in this spirit that I put forth two alternatives between which a decision ought to be (and will be) made: the liberal analysis of the market, with its corresponding focus on whether sex markets should be legal or illegal; and the Marxian analysis of objective economic relationships in production and distribution, with its corresponding focus on what the alternatives to markets are, and its systematic approach to the effects of particulars. Fundamentally, this is a methodological question, and it has spawned countless debates over nearly the last two centuries. So which one should we utilize for the current analysis?

I give this answer emphatically: Marxism. A number of critiques and studies are useful to reference here, relevant to why I believe Marxism to be the superior social and economic framework and methodology. I will deal with each of the following points briefly following their statement: Marx's Capital, and after it, the work of Alfred Sohn-Rethel in Intellectual and Manual Labour and of I.I. Rubin in Essays on Marx's Theory of Value, correctly point out the existence and prominence of so-called real abstraction and reification, functioning on the level of social relations but nonetheless real; the power of dialectical analysis utilized as a way to connect abstract and concrete conditions, as found in the Uno-Sekine approach to Marxian political economy; and the power of dialectical analysis to dispel ideological abstractions based on hypostasis and false unities or oppositions, found most prominently in the work of Theodor Adorno. Additionally, Marx's Capital will be used as a methodological model of the presentation of our analysis.

The neoclassical framework, now commonly adopted without question for problems of economics, is perhaps the major alternative to Marxism (although it would probably be more accurate to say that Marxism must be the “alternative”, the one of which justification is demanded). This is of course not to say that it is incorrect, simply because it is adopted without question. However, I believe it to be inferior for a number of reasons, of which the “critical” attitude of Debra Satz will be used as a case study. Satz's claim that “...in order to understand and fully appreciate the diverse moral dimensions of markets, we need to focus on the specific nature of particular markets and not on the market system” is, I believe, central to the liberal analysis of markets (Satz 17). Satz apparently acknowledges Marx's contribution to the analyses of Smith and Ricardo, namely his theory of exploitation based on the commodification of labor-power: “...Marx singled out the distinctive nature of human labor power as a commodity whose purchase gives some people power and authority over others” (Satz 7). However, this “power and authority” is most certainly not the extent of the importance of labor-power within mature capitalism. Satz goes so far as to say that “Indeed Marx's normative condemnation of capitalism focuses on its degradation of human beings to animals and things, and not on its distribution of wages and profits” (Satz 56). I believe that these few quotes display a complete lack of understanding of Marx. First, labor-power has such a central role because it is an ubiquitous commodity, present within all capitalist industries and firms, and indeed according to Marx the exploitation of labor is the sole source of profits. This is why we must view markets systematically—sure, labor-power is a specific commodity, but it is also systematic in a way that Satz excludes from her analysis. This exploitation of labor cannot be solved by simply having workers who “are not deskilled automatons, enjoy more than subsistence wages, and identify with their jobs” (Satz 57). Even given this fantasy, within capitalism there is still exploitation of labor by capital, and thus there is still not egalitarianism, regardless of Satz's wishful thinking. Age-old accusations of the inconsistency of Marx's economics, starting soon after Marx's death with Bortkiewicz and Böhm-Bawerk, can no longer be given as reasons for the rejection and suppression thereof. Andrew Kliman has demonstrated decisively that Marx's economic theory is consistent and relevant, and thus I believe that much of the liberal egalitarian critique of Marxian economics is unfounded, especially from Satz's perspective (Kliman). Unfortunately, Marx is still rejected out of hand as an economist, quite apart from the (qualified) acceptance of his work in sociology and philosophy, though even that is so often distorted.

Returning to Elles, we can immediately see the effectiveness of viewing things from a Marxian and dialectical perspective than from a liberal or simply ethical perspective. Beginning with an abstract category, and successively adding in factors of reality, our analysis will pass from a caricature, a theoretical fiction, to a concrete analysis of sex markets as depicted in the film. Ours is similar to Marx's method in Capital, wherein the appearance of society is taken as a starting point: as he says at the very opening, “The wealth of those societies in which the capitalist mode of production prevails appears as an immense collection of commodities'; the individual commodity appears as its elementary form. Our investigation therefore begins with the analysis of the commodity” (Marx 125). Similarly, taking the film at face value and then working our way through the necessary movements of this idea, our analysis will start with the concept “libido”, because, as it were, the well-being of groups in which the capitalist organization of social relations prevails appears as an immense spreading-out of libido; the individual libidinal intensity appears as its elementary form. Our investigation therefore begins with the analysis of libidinal intensity.

III. Libido

Taken at face value, the widening and expanding of libido seems to be the key to the problems presented to Anne in the film. Anne is, at the beginning of the film, a wholly sexually repressed bourgeois woman who has no intimacy with her husband, and no emotional intimacy with her children either. She rations her cigarettes and doesn't allow herself to drink except for a little wine. Compared to the sex workers in the film, she is unhappy and fundamentally estranged from life and from a meaningful sense of self. Why she is restricted is not important relative to how she lives her life within those all-too-common restrictions. Sexual repression exists, and the film, rather than looking into the reasons why, explores our possibilities for emancipation from within. More importantly, libido and its expansion is presented as the focal point of the film as a whole, due to the focus on Anne and her reactions to the apparent sexual liberation of the sex workers (something we will return to in the next section). All the way through to the end of the movie, when Anne attempts to have sexual relations with her husband in a bid for libidinal expansion, we see the focus on Anne's repression. Without yet exploring what the real problem is, it is clear that Anne's ideological (in the Marxian sense) take on the problem is based on the libido and its expansion. First, the pure libido will be examined with the help of Jean-Francois Lyotard's theory of libidinal economy; then its tendency to expand will be explored; finally its connections to Anne will be re-examined and its importance re-affirmed in light of the expanded investigation.

The theory of libido as it is understood today descends from Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanalysis. To better understand how classical libido theory was revised by Lyotard, it is useful to understand the death drive as well. Late in Freud's career, due to complications arising from the interpretive monism of libido theory, he put forth an opposing drive, the death drive. Of it he wrote, “Libido has the task of making the destroying instinct innocuous, and it fulfills the task by diverting that instinct to a great extent outwards...The instinct is then called the destructive instinct, the instinct for mastery, or the will to power” (Freud 418). The positive libido and the negative death drive form an opposition in this regard, and it is just this type of opposition that was questioned by the French post-structuralists, a group of which Lyotard may be considered a member at some points in his career. Specifically, his work Libidinal Economy put forth a purely positive theory of the libido, and by doing this it had to become wholly abstract, a so-called theoretical fiction. Libido, as Lyotard uses the term, is the pure affirmative impulse, intensity, or affectation (Lyotard 4). It exists on a primal level prior to consciousness but may manifest in and through consciousness. It is desire, abstract enjoyment, the positive, all in one. As Fredric Jameson wrote, “To be sure, nature (or being) is as full as an egg, there are no absences in it, and no oppositions either...” (Jameson 37). While Jameson takes this idea in a quite opposite direction, it is a good illustration of the motivation of Lyotard's libidinal philosophy: we do not perceive a lack. Rather than understanding desire as lack, as with Lacan, we should understand it as full or positive.

As pure positivity, libido has the tendency to expand—and it would not be far off even to say that libido's essence or nature is to expand over previously non-libidinal spaces. The expansion of pure positivity is akin to the formation of points of intensity, and if we simplify substantially, a phenomenological or psychological interpretation of intensity would be permissible. However, it is not only that; there is also a semiological significance to Lyotard's libido theory, which can be thought of as a kind of ground or argument upon which the previous statements might be based. In the place of the semiological sign, Lyotard proposes the theory of the tensor, a duplicitous sign: one side is the semiological sign; the other is that of the residual potentialities of other meanings, overflowing the system and running into others, covering the entire semiological plane with meanings or intensities. In modern bourgeois society, the sign negates or even annihilates the signified, and, in good post-structuralist fashion, all that remains is the so-called endless metonymy of meanings, the deferral of meaning to yet more signifiers. However, Lyotard's theory does not follow Derrida into the conclusion that “there is nothing outside the text” (Derrida 158). Rather, Lyotard returns to the experience of positivity, of the libido, a pre-semiological escape that yet shows the same characteristics. Regardless of these differences and similarities with Derrida and with other post-structuralists, the expansion of libidinal activity remains.

Returning to the film, we can now apply Lyotard's theory of libido with more precision. Anne's repression stands in for the nigh-unexpanded libido, one that cannot create points of intensity where it wills. However, since our theory is at this point still in the abstract stage, the stage of pure affirmation and immediacy, we should focus on the expansions in the film that have significance. This phenomenon of libidinal expansion is present in the film in multiple locations. Anne participates in several scenes that are even presented similarly to the explicitly pornographic scenes, for example the foot massage she gives her father on his sickbed. The skin-to-skin contact, the oil, and even Anne's apparent attitude towards the act lend it a sexual quality. Other examples include Anne preparing the shellfish and cooking the same dish that was said to have been cooked by the Polish sex worker's first client. In Anne's opening-up to sexuality she begins to experience it everywhere, the repression finally losing its hegemonic hold over her. The connection seems obvious between the libidinal expansion in Anne's day-to-day activities and that in the sex workers' jobs. All here is positivity, points of intensity emerging in a wide variety of activities, most strikingly those mentioned above that are not “sexual” in the traditional sense of genital-to-genital intercourse. The upshot is that there are regions, such as the “sexual” in the traditional sense, that still deny access to her libido—her masturbation is an important part of her libidinal awakening, but even that is not the culmination of the libidinal spreading-out, as it effectively has no culmination. Thus, the inconsistencies in our theory of pure libido when applied to the concrete conditions in the film push us onward to a less abstract category: that of sexuality.

IV. Sexuality

In terms of our libido theory outlined in the previous section, sexuality can be understood as libido (or libidinal expansion) with the addition of materiality, or better yet, libido's intersection and interaction with materiality. Unlike Lyotard, we will not stay in the realm of theoretical fictions, but will move to a more concrete and more useful analysis of society through the lens of Elles. In this spirit, we must now outline the following problems and their solutions: the elaboration of the necessity of the conceptual passage from the abstract (libido) to the relatively concrete (sexuality); the question of space, objects, and their abstraction; the question of the material and the social as they relate to sexuality and finally the re-application of our newly expanded theory to the concrete examples of the film under analysis.

What is the nature of the change from our wholly abstract concept of libido as defined by Lyotard to the more concrete concept of sexuality? The tendency towards expansion of the libido is counteracted by the socially- or materially-imposed negativity of repression, which is then reinforced by the activity of the psyche in its development and in its socialization. In other words, the pressure of material reality, such as the constraints of the psychical economy (not having infinite libidinal energy), lack of biologically necessary resources, &c., causes the stoppage or even the contraction of the libido. Similarly, social impositions, such as the “No!” of the Father, can cause a libidinal contraction in one area, leaving the question of how and if this contraction is offset by reciprocal expansion for another time. Thus, there is at the very least a transfer of libido from one area or space to another, which, taking into account the pure expansionary striving of that libido, is bound to cause friction or contradiction, if not outright neurosis. Much like a post-structuralist version of Freud's theory of the raging Id, which is subsequently repressed by the superego, our theory now comes to the raging libido, this time repressed by reality itself. This point deserves further elaboration.

The nature of space itself requires the real and conceptual replacing of libido by sexuality. One libidinal “space” or intensity is always bound to be unequal by the existence of other points and areas of non-intensity. As libido could never truly be theorized statically, without the movement based upon inequality, really existing three-dimensional space is the ultimate repressor of libido, in the sense that it is lived space. Drawing on Heidegger's concept of the ready-to-hand world, filled with objects and directions and concern, as against the abstract empty present-at-hand space of science, the question of objects and of space finds its solution. The nature of the abstraction of objects from out of the mixed-together field of sensory perception is one that is based on the kind of beings we are (ignoring for the moment the real abstractions of a society based on commodity exchange; this will be dealt with in the next section on sex work). As Dietzgen correctly stated, “Where do we find any indivisible unit outside of our abstract conceptions? Two halves, four fourths, eight eighths, or an infinite number of separate parts form the raw material out of which the mind fashions the mathematical unit. This book, its leaves, its letters, or their parts, are they units? Where do I begin, where do I stop?” (Dietzgen 84). In other words, the lived reality of space is always already broken into pieces by the mental activity of abstraction. This is more fundamentally why we must pass from the Lyotardian theory of the pure, positive libido to the theory of sexuality, that of the really lived libido.

Our analysis now leads us to the question of the differing roles of the material and the social aspects of reality and of our abstractions, something which was briefly touched on in the preceding section. Put simply, what is the distinction between the material and the social in our chosen methodology? It was one of Marx's greatest achievements to outline the relation between social forms and their material content, and it would do us well to follow his distinction here. In the first place, there is certainly and undeniably a material substrate that resists absorption into the hegemonic symbolic order of signification, or social form. However, this material substrate is only that—the unnameable, the heterogeneous. All else is pressed into social form. This social form can be thought of as the “form of appearance” of some deeper dialectical concept or material. To give an example: In capitalism the concept of value takes on the “form of appearance”, the social form, of exchange-value, which is further the form of which socially necessary labor time is the content. There are thus multiple distinctions that can be made—one concept's form is another concept's content, as it were. To sum up, the social and the material are intimately bound up with each other, and one cannot be understood or even thought without the other. Thus, we were right to say earlier that sexuality is the libido's intersection and interaction with materiality, if we add the stipulation that it is a social or symbolic reality (which is the way Marxists understand the term anyway). Even within the concept of the material, the social permeates, and always within the social, the material permeates. A striking example of this is Marx's theory of the base and superstructure. The economic base contains within itself, alongside the material forces of production, the relations of production, social relations that are the connecting link to the superstructure.

Returning to the film, armed with our newly expanded theory of sexuality, we can analyze a good deal more of the situations contained therein, most especially Anne's sexual repression, which was incomprehensible from the standpoint of the pure libido (surely, one could begin with sexuality, but that was not the immediate presentation of resolution in the film). First, it is now apparent that Anne's lack of sexual freedom, expression and satisfaction is based in the spatially-oriented world of bourgeois society. Capitalism's latest postmodern phase of spatialization at the expense of temporality might be put forward here as a further catalyst to this phenomenon (Jameson, Postmodernism). However, the basic fact of materiality, as outlined above, creates an upper limit to the amount of liberation that can take place, concretizing the conditions of libidinal expansion and making a specifically sexual libido or expansion possible. To give an example, this time not about Anne: Charlotte (Lola) finds sexual liberation with her clients, while the sexual relationship with her boyfriend is one of tension and restraint. In a certain scene, we are sure that the person she is having sex with is her boyfriend because it is so passionate, but in the end he turns out to be a client. Later we see Lola's interactions with her boyfriend: she clearly does not want to have sexual relations with him, even though she'd been so passionate with the client beforehand. In this case, the materiality of different circumstances and different temporal or spatial arrangements of objects and abstractions (to speak abstractly) contributes to what is sexuality and sexual liberation are and what they are not. As it is sexual, this type of liberation or expansion must be connected also to the body, a more concrete libidinal apparatus than the pure subject. Although space is still sought to be filled with libido, it's activity is restricted socially and biologically to specific activities and to specific times and intensities.

With Anne, we see her libidinal expansion, as noted before, in the foot massage she gives her father and in the shellfish she prepares for dinner. However, the social and biological constraints—the relation between the two is fuzzy, but suffice it to say that the social triumphs over the biological, at least in the realm of consciousness—which are placed upon her by what we have above called materiality cause the outlets for these libidinal activities to be limited. Thus, the social ideology of libidinal expansion, its socially-imposted ideal, which we here consider almost a transhistorical phenomenon, is the sexual relationship. With the ascension of the socially-imposed norms and expectations that our concept of sexuality implies, Anne desires the specifically sexual, as the term is typically socially defined. Thus, our concept of sexuality, of sexualized libido, has something of specific content to it: it is not applicable to all libidinal subjects, and it is important to keep the abstract and the concrete methodologically separate, and not to over-abstract or too quickly universalize a given concept.

There still remains, however, a number of instances that we cannot understand at the level of simple sexuality. We must proceed to take account of the effects of markets on the lives of the people within the film, and then envision how these results might be universalized (a relative universalization, to be sure) or not. First, the impersonal self-abstracting effects of capitalist markets and the associated phenomenon of reification are not brought about through any meaningful or purposive psychological or subjective interaction (though these phenomena may have these types of interactions as prerequisites, it is not necessary to delve into them to understand the phenomena in question at the given level of abstraction). Second, we must ask the question of why Anne is not sexually liberated, while the sex workers appear to be, at least on this level. The obvious question arises: what are the conditions of sexual liberation in the bourgeois society portrayed in the film, and to what extent are the results to be found there applicable to our society today? Third, given the stated goal of normative market policy, and to answer the previous two points effectively, we must push onward to a third and final organizing category: that of sex work.

V. Sex Work

Sex work is here defined as the intersection or interaction of sexuality within the capitalist mode of production. In order to consider the interaction, a brief review of Marx's theory of capitalism is in order. Thus, the order of this section will be divided into: the capitalist mode of production in general; the theories of commodity fetishism and reification; the interaction or intersection of sexuality with capitalism on an economic level (sex work from an economic viewpoint); the interaction or intersection of sexuality with capitalism on a superstructural or ideological level (sex work from an ideological viewpoint); and the conclusions we can draw about the film from our finally-completed (at least provisionally) analysis of Elles.

The Marxian concept of “mode of production” is one that describes the dominant economic logic, typically of appropriation, of a given historical society. For example, the mode of production present in ancient Egypt involved the extraction of surplus from farmers around the Nile River. It is upon the combination of this direct surplus extraction and the farmers' subsistence farming that the Egyptian economy was based. Currently, we live in the capitalist mode of production, in which the dominant economic logic is one of commodities and commodification—it is fully matured only when labor, that most basic element of productive activity, has been turned into a commodity that is bought and sold by supposedly free and equal economic agents. Highlighting the logic of commodification and the production of commodities by means of commodities, the capitalist mode of production is one in which markets play a dominant role, whether the circulatory or distributory spheres allow more or less free competition between producing firms. Thus, not all markets are capitalistic, though capitalism requires markets for its functioning—that is, for its characteristic laws to assert themselves. The question of the commodification of sex, producing sex work that is put on the market for sale, must have its solution based on the real logic of capitalist production and appropriation, in which workers produce more value (as well as more physical output) than their labor-power was worth on the market. Even paid at full price for their labor-power, the workers are exploited by capitalist surplus-value appropriation in the form of surplus product.

Alongside the capitalist mode of production, the concept of base and superstructure will be exceedingly important to us here. The economic “base” is the combination of the forces and relations of production upon which the ideological “superstructure” is built. However, the relationship between the two is not one of pure determinism.* For now, we will assume a dialectical, multi-directional relationship as put forward by Mao Zedong in his brilliant work On Contradiction. In certain cases, the superstructure may be said to react back upon the base, such as in a revolutionary upheaval, when the relations of production restrict the growth and application of the forces of production. However, a much more general reading is warranted as well, in which a revolutionary situation is not required for the superstructure to become the “determining factor”, so to speak, but rather there is a two-way interaction between the two spheres at all times.

Building on the relation between base and superstructure, and applying the distinction to the capitalist mode of production, we arrive at the peculiar concepts of commodity fetishism and reification. Commodity fetishism is the concept used to describe the determining character of commodities on the division of social labor in a capitalist economy. In other words, it describes the fact that in a capitalist economy, it is commodities that play the socially-synthetic role, and it is to them that falls the task of apportioning and re-apportioning the total amount of social labor available to society into specific enterprises and industries. Through this action, commodities take on a mysterious and mystical power: “To the producers, therefore, the social relations between their private labours appear as what they are, i.e. they do not appear as direct social relations between persons in their work, but rather as material [dinglich] relations between persons and social relations between things” (Marx 166). The broader concept of reification builds upon this understanding of commodity fetishism to include a wider superstructural phenomenon of inverted relationships. The relationships which are typically called “reified” are those in which a process or motion is held to be constant, as if it were a thing. To give an example of the wide and powerful application of these ideas to the study of ideology: Alfred Sohn-Rethel has examined the relationship between reification and epistemology before, noting the connections between commodity fetishism as the social synthesis and classical models of epistemology.

Now we may ask what the interaction between sexuality and the capitalist system is on the economic level—this is the first part of the critique of sex work. Looked at purely economically, it must be said that sex work is not all that different from other kinds of work. The sale of sexual labor-power is no different from the sale of other types of labor-power, and given our strict definition of commodity fetishism above, services act as commodities too, contrary to the interpretations of, for example, the Uno-Sekine school of Marxian political economy. Sexual labor-power is either exploited or not, based on whether surplus-value is extracted by someone occupying a different class position than the worker who acts in production. Unfortunately, the film does not go into the alternative cases of self-employment or other-employment, so the dynamics of this interaction cannot be analyzed sufficiently in view of the film. It seems, then, that something other than a purely economic analysis is called for, and what better to use than the concept of reification, the natural extension of the concept of commodity fetishism to the so-called non-economic realm.

Viewing sex work from an ideological or superstructural viewpoint, it takes on a number of characteristics not analyzable from the purely economic perspective previously adopted. First, sex work plays an interesting and important part in the market society portrayed in the film. The outsourcing of sex from the home into the market is portrayed there by the sex workers' clients' demographic, which is almost exclusively married men. This phenomenon occurs for two reasons: first, it is simply another part of the imperializing effect of the value- and commodity-forms into yet another sphere; second, it is a manifestation of the expulsion of intensity to the outside of the self-identical family unit.

The ideological reaction to the imperialism of the value- and commodity-forms into sex work is quite important. People's lived relation to the reality of commodified sex is to normalize (that great imperative of the bourgeoisie) and defuse non-commodified sex, even to the point of complete elimination, as in the case of Anne and her husband. It is difficult to imagine why sex would be any different than other goods, which, as capitalism takes root in their production, in most cases cease to be otherwise produced. It is important to understand this as a systematic trend of the capitalist markets and their expansion into previously un-capitalized spheres. The effective outsourcing of sex from the home into the market is a particularly striking example, but certainly not the only one (one need only think of food or clothing production). The effects of this expansion will be explored in the final section below.

Real abstraction is a phenomenon that arises in capitalism due to the abstract nature of human labor within that system. Multifarious concrete labors are equated only insofar as they are treated abstractly by the capitalist mode of production and exchange. In the exchange of a commodity for money, the abstract labor contained in one is equated with that in the other (see Marx's labor theory of value). Other prominent real abstractions under capitalism are the Newtonian worldview and its corresponding Kantian epistemology (see Sohn-Rethel). Real abstraction also takes place, however, in the functioning of the family unit as a self-identical whole. This means that the family is treated by capitalism and by the legal superstructure as a single unit, a single unified decision-making firm. The unification of family members in this sense thus mirrors that of the firm, and the differences in libidinal and sexual intensities are effectively excluded and even, in extreme cases, eliminated from the family-firm as destructive. The reproductive aspect is taken as an important part of business, however the sexual relations between members must be regulated for the benefit of that unity.

So what is the base-superstructure relationship regarding sex work in the film? It must be understood on the basis of real abstraction, on the interaction between the logic of the market system, the base, and the ideological superstructure surrounding sex work, on which people order their organization, in this case in what we've been calling the family-firm.

VI. Conclusion

Finally, our triple-movement of libido, sexuality, and sex work has come to a momentary halt. Needless to say, the analysis could continue into more and more concrete conditions and come up with additional insightful statements. However, it is good to stop at a certain level and abstract once more what we can, in order to arrive at general or normative statements about the market economy in sex. With what we have done so far, we may begin to produce a normative prescription for market policies regarding sex work—although, in reality our analysis has led us to something quite different from typical market analysis, as will soon be made apparent.

First, the market system must be opposed as a system. The effects of the market are much deeper and more far-ranging than typical neoclassical efficiency-based arguments make apparent, as even Satz recognizes. It is true that we cannot judge the effects of markets if we only look at abstract homogeneous commodities, but if we start to look at concrete commodities we inevitably encounter labor-power, that most ubiquitous and problematic commodity the exploitation of which forms the necessary precondition for the reproduction of the capitalist mode of production. We cannot understand capitalism without looking at it systematically, but this must be done in a concrete and not abstract way. Marx's analysis of labor-power and his theory of exploitation show this, and Andrew Kliman's recent work confirms it in light of its many historical criticisms.

As for sex markets as a specific kind of market, they should be opposed from a systematic point of view. The question “Should sex markets be legal?” is the wrong question. Capital incessantly seeks out new markets and new areas of the world to absorb into itself, and the fight against one “noxious” market is inevitably replaced by more. As technology develops, the struggle against the destruction wrought by markets (both due to capitalist crisis and due to the destruction of moral boundaries and the foundation of “noxious” markets) will not be halted. The inherent creativity of the capitalist system, its creative destruction of non-market units (as in our discussion of the family-firm), insist that a moral problem solved is but a temporary respite from a greater and endless creation of moral dilemmas. Thus, Elles provides a tiny and insufficient view of sex work, shown only from the individual's point of view. Always the sex scenes are particularly pornographic, which even projects agency onto the audience. In capitalism, the voice of the agent, of the holder of money or power, is privileged.

The agency of the worker, especially that of the sex worker, is really non-agency wearing the disguise of capitalist ideology. The freedom to sell oneself on the individual level becomes, through the imperializing tendency of global capitalism, the normalcy of sexual interaction. The phenomenon of a striving towards normalcy that is so typical of the bourgeois mentality finds its ultimate connection with patriarchy in the outsourcing of sex from the home. The already-disempowered female spouse is stripped of even her sexual role in this the latest stage of market expansion. We cannot speak of freedom only with a single market in mind, however, nor even with a summation of all markets, but only by taking into account the larger ordering of society through the all-pervading economic structure. Elles cannot answer this.

Libido is the pure affirmative impulse; sexuality is the libido's interaction and intersection with materiality, particularly with the body, made particular by the customs and methods of socialization in a given society; sex work is the integration of sexuality into the capitalist market system. The particularity of the market mechanism (of which bourgeois normalcy is an extension and expression), means that we cannot confront sexuality and the libido apart from the phenomenon of sex work, which is, or seeks to be, the dominant reality. Not even touching upon the shaping of our sexual desire by advertisements and other such exposures, the reality of sex work under capitalism is striking in its dissimulation of agency, power, freedom, and of sexuality itself.


Works Cited

Derrida, Jacques. Of Grammatology. Corrected ed. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998. Print.

Dietzgen, Joseph. The Positive Outcome of Philosophy. Trans. Ernest Untermann. Chicago: Charles H. Kerr & Co., 1906.

Freud, Sigmund. “The Economic Problem of Masochism.” in On Metapsychology: The Theory of Psychoanalysis: “Beyond the Pleasure Principle,” “The Ego and the Id” and Other Works. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1984. Print.

Jameson, Fredric. "Postmodernism, Or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism." New Left Review. 146 (1984): 53. Print.

Jameson, Fredric. Valences of the Dialectic. London; Brooklyn, NY: Verso, 2009. Print.

Kliman, Andrew. Reclaiming Marx’s Capital : A Refutation of the Myth of Inconsistency. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2007. Print.

Lyotard, Jean-François. Libidinal Economy. Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1993. Print.

Mao, Zedong. “On Contradiction.” in Selected Works of Mao Zedong. Vol. 1. 1st ed. Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1967. Print.

Marx, Karl. Capital : A Critique of Political Economy. Vol. 1. Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England; New York, N.Y.: Penguin Books in association with New Left Review, 1976. Print.

Satz, Debra. Why Some Things Should Not Be for Sale: The Moral Limits of Markets. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010. Print.

Sohn-Rethel, Alfred. Intellectual and Manual Labour : a Critique of Epistemology. London: Macmillan, 1978. Print.


*Most Marxists agree on the determination of the superstructure by the economy “in the last instance” (the particular meaning of this phrase cannot be gone into in sufficient depth here, but suffice it to say that much has been made of it since the time of Louis Althusser especially).

Thinking the Non-Conceptual in Zhang Ailing's "Love in a Fallen City"




Thinking the Non-Conceptual in Zhang Ailing's “Love in a Fallen City”

Zhang Ailing's technique of uneven contrast can be thought of as a model for non-identity thinking. Specifically, uneven contrast bears a striking resemblance to Theodor Adorno's negative dialectics. In order to analyze this similarity, and further to contribute a synthetic development which is a true advance on the already existing works in their mutual separation, the particularities of Zhang's use and understanding of difference will be conceptually isolated and then critiqued. First, the capability of uneven contrast to think the non-conceptual will be analyzed, along with the same capability of negative dialectics; then these two will be brought into critical tension and analyzed from the other's perspective; finally uneven contrast and negative dialectics will be applied to the question of causality, which makes a prominent appearance in the ambiguity of the title of Zhang's story “Love in a Fallen City” (alternatively translated as “Love that Fells a City”).


The primary task of modern philosophy is to think the non-conceptual, to deal with that which is outside it, that which is outside itself. Adorno wrote, “Dialectics represents the attempt to incorporate into philosophy whatever is heterogeneous, philosophy's other... [I]t wishes to import the non-conceptual into philosophy” (Lectures on Negative Dialectics 57). There are those equations of disparate elements, such as Hegel's equation of thinking and being, which seek to avoid the problem. The non-conceptual, though, cannot be done away with one and for all, if the method of this vanquishing is simply the repeated conceptual proofs showing the problem to be a non-problem. Rather, the things which are disparate must be shown to be such, in line with their immanent objectivity. Form must follow content, and only thereby can substance be retained. But the question of the necessity of thinking the non-conceptual is easy to resolve, in contrast to the question of how to do so. Objectivity must be retained, hand in hand with rigor, while continuing to observe non-concepts and making space for them within the descriptive scheme of thought. Uneven contrast is a literary method that points to just this possibility, the deconstruction of concepts by their opposing concepts and the eventual decomposition of the conceptual itself.

Zhang says of this, “...I still use the method of uneven contrast to show the reality in the emptiness, the simplicity in the ornamentation, of contemporary people” (“My Writing” in Modern Chinese Literary Thought 439). The emptiness of the concept, known so well by Hegel in his initial being-nothingness derivation, is here put forth as the false, the non-real. It is that which is to be taken back up into reality, to be revitalized by unevenness. The sterility of the self-same concept, the endless analytical tautological system of deduction, the logical equivalence of disparate entities, must be cast aside if the reality is to be found beneath the layers of abstraction and of abstractness. That the even contrast of pure opposites denotes an unacceptable level of abstraction is apparent in the ideological “ornamentation” of reality by grand theories of the pure concept. This occurs not just in the obvious case of German idealism, but even in philosophies claiming anti-idealism, such as Heidegger's. The symbolic realm of language is the very sphere whose existence necessitates the problems of concept-object contradiction. Language thus cannot be the level at which the problem is resolved, at least as a theoretical object, and at most as a restrictive horizon of pseudo-activity. The key is the uneven, the heterogeneous, the multiple-level, that of the multiplicity and of compulsive reaching-past. Thought is content neither with its external demarcations nor with those self-imposed barriers to fluidity that constantly seek to reduce the movement of thought to binary opposition. The logical negation of a so-called proposition is, without the non-conceptual, the same thing as that original proposition, as of course is clear in Hegel. What is different is the non-conceptual, and to get to that no amount of formalism can help us. Substantive philosophy as well as sound literary theory need what cannot be had, the unthinkable.

In what is perhaps the most powerful example of uneven contrast, Zhang writes, “Countless thousands of people dead, countless thousands of people suffering, after that an earth-shaking revolution... Liusu didn't feel there was anything subtle about her place in history. She stood up, smiling, and kicked the pan of mosquito-repellant incense under the table” (Love 167). To use an almost too obvious example, the logical negation of “countless thousands of people dead” is “not countless thousands of people dead” or something equivalent. The difference, however, the heterogeneity of the two predicates, cannot be thought in a formalism. Unevenness cannot be captured in a structure that does not reach past itself. The problem is the spuriousness inherent in any negation that is not a logical negation, leaving unevenness to the random. A striving for escape from the confines of the concept pushes Zhang's narrative into something which appears distorted from the conceptual standpoint, but which is really the unfolding or reconstitution of what was always already deformed. Reality as the uneven, that which seeps into conceptual categories and undoes their self-declared legitimation, is the very stuff of a negative dialectics.

Concept and object are thus related in a fundamentally uneven way. On this Adorno writes, “Due to the inequality inherent in the concept of mediation, the subject enters into the object altogether differently from the way the object enters into the subject” (Adorno Negative Dialectics 183). Furthermore, everything may be an object without being a subject, but the reverse is not the case. The asymmetry is introduced in and through consciousness, and it is important to keep the unique nature of abstraction in mind when dealing with that asymmetry. Nothing remains simply as it was in the beginning, either, for “Mediation must, of course, take place” (Marx 171). What this means for unevenness is that the heterogeneity of the elements is not a simple difference that can be decided or outlined by a process of elimination. Indeed, the other cannot be filled in at all. It's asymmetry all the way down, without any gaps. Taking the other into the structure of the original problem doesn't solve anything, because there is yet more asymmetry, this time between the new structure and yet another other. In fact, that asymmetry is the very direct result of the process of structuralization itself. The Bergsonian concept of virtuality, the heterogeneous multiplicity “behind” the actual, describes the process quite well, although from a non-dialectical standpoint (Deleuze). The importance of this phenomenon, and the mechanism whereby nothing is self-identical, is, as previously noted, well described in Adorno's works.

The determination (of concepts, subjects, objects, etc.) is always mutual, always two-way, and always acausal. Here the importance of the double-movement, concepts entering into objects and objects entering into concepts, is paramount. Both are the active, and both the passive. The one is never truly isolated from the other, no matter what kind of distortions the structure of their interrelations undergoes. The system is always deconstructed by the non-formalizable, but at the same time there is an equal striving for system itself. System is never truly escapable, but it is at the same time never complete and self-contained. The systematic impulse is systemic. In Zhang, this takes the determinate form of the striving for relation between the non-relatable, formalized as much as possible within the straight-jacket of language.

The simplest relation of naïve ontology is that of cause-and-effect between homogeneous unchangeable substances. This, I believe, is what Zhang seeks to critique, although her writing has much broader applicability. Specifically, Zhang writes, “Hong Kong's defeat had brought Liusu victory. But in this unreasonable world, who can distinguish cause from effect?” (Zhang, Love 167). This is compounded quite powerfully by the ambiguity in the translation of the title of the story. As one scholar noted, “...the original Chinese phrase for 'love in a fallen city' can also be read as 'love that topples cities'...” (Wang). This beautiful inversion of cause and effect is not only that, not only a simple reversal, but an uneven reversal, a veritable repudiation of cause and effect in the philosophical sense. A systematic inversion, one dealing with the structure, and not simply with the terms contained within that structure, as an uncritical reversal would be. At this point, a more in-depth look at cause and effect is in order, especially as it relates to this deconstruction.

Cause and effect are names for the relations into which pure isolated substances enter. The thing stands on one side, unaffected in its essence by neither the other thing nor by the peculiar operation of the relation itself, and certainly not by the combination of thing and action. This is not to say that nothing changes in a cause and effect view of the world, but rather it is to say that what changes is separate from the relation into which that changing thing enters—in other words, separate from cause and effect. The change is left to the ephemeral, to the appearances, whereas substance is itself impervious. This means that there are homogeneous elements, things, which interact homogeneously with other things in something we might call a causal chain. This is a mechanical, reversible process that most certainly does not reach past itself and most certainly does not create structures which think the non-conceptual. The external relationships put forward as ubiquitous by the cause and effect view of reality lead to the straight-jacket of formalism, that kind of bad philosophy upheld by the post-Wittgensteinian “philosophers of language”.

The mutual determination of concept and object precludes the causal relations which are the hallmark of homogeneity. Instead, dialectics puts forth the heterogeneity of elements, meaning they cannot be subsumed beneath such a simple and uncritical schema. Not just the relation, not just the particular arrangement of elements, of causes and of effects, is under scrutiny, but also the very concepts themselves. The concepts whose movement generates such friction are not just any concepts, however, but our concepts, created and utilized in our world, that of capitalism and, especially in Zhang's case, of imperialism and colonialism. It may sound silly, but the importance of reality in the formation of our concepts cannot be overstated. As Adorno has so rightfully observed, “Wrong life cannot be lived rightly” (Minima Moralia 39). This means that, by virtue of the way things are at the current time, we cannot have “correct” concepts in a substantive sense. Our consciousness is reified, and no amount of individual criticism can truly pierce the veil. Thus, the failure of Kantian epistemology may be identified as the misunderstanding of this very factor. The non-coincidence of concept and object is, as far as we are here concerned, inherent in system itself, inherent in language, in thought, and in living. And again, “True thoughts are those alone which do not understand themselves” (Adorno, Minima Moralia 192). Those thoughts which are of this world cannot be rational, because this world is not the rational. Therefore, the truth of thoughts is to be measured not by their rational coincidence with reality, but by their deconstructive properties against that reality. What lays bare the incoherence of society, in other words.

Zhang's refutation of cause and effect is ostensibly one that is akin to Jung's theory of synchronicity. The epistemological aspect of the problem, as in “who can distinguish” cause from effect, is however not the defining aspect, at least defined narrowly. The problem of exactitude in science is here paralleled by the problem of abstraction in thought in general. Where does one thing end and another begin? Substance can here play no part, being only an artificially abstracted reified thing from the sea of relations the nexus of which forms the false standard of ontological judgment. Synchronicity is obviously an aspect of Zhang's critique, the meaningful connection of love and the fall of Hong Kong being prominent on the face of the narrative. However, Zhang does not stop there, as the uneven contrast comes into play. There is nothing uneven about synchronicity, and in fact it may exist alongside cause and effect even in the rigorous philosophical sense. Synchronicity is therefore purely epistemological, and the meaningful connections it produces are simply that. Uneven contrast struggles to give voice to the ontological as well as epistemological violence present in the act of systematizing.

The outcome of a denial of system, however, is not as clear as might be hoped, even after Adorno's work on the topic. The double-movement of systematizing/deconstructing is one that leads to an uncertain outcome. Zhang, however, has a positive interpretation, one that stresses the epistemological, synchronous aspect, as seen in the final line, “...oh! Why go into it?” (Zhang, Love 167). An asynchronous movement producing synchronicity in the epistemological sphere may seem quite strange, but it is indeed Zhang's perspective. Opening up a hermeneutic space, Zhang answers the challenge of meaning through the subjective experience and conclusions of Liusu. But as noted, the deconstruction is itself not simply a subjective process, but an actually-existing one as well. Need the subsequent re-construction (whatever that might be) base itself only on the subjective? Have we missed something in the structure of uneven contrast that might answer this question?

Every positivity is also a negativity and vice versa. Negation is determination, as the saying goes. The very critique of the bad through the negating movement of concepts is a (however small) form of positivity, but this is quite mundane and not what concerns us at present. Rather, the deconstruction of concepts is the more objective the more those deconstructed concepts are real abstractions. A true grounding of interpretation is thus the analysis of those categories that govern society though they are not thoughts, thought they are non-conceptual. These non-conceptual categories, or real abstractions, are explored most prominently by Alfred Sohn-Rethel and Isaak Illich Rubin. Real abstraction is a phenomenon that arises in capitalism due to the abstract nature of human labor within that system. Multifarious concrete labors are equated only insofar as they are treated abstractly by the capitalist mode of production and exchange. In the exchange of a commodity for money, the abstract labor contained in one is equated with that in the other (see Marx's labor theory of value). Other prominent real abstractions under capitalism are the Newtonian worldview and its corresponding Kantian epistemology (Sohn-Rethel). These types of abstractions are objective, non-conceptual, real, and to use Hegelian terminology, they are the self-abstraction or self-knowledge of capitalism as a mode of production, as a system.

This new level of objectivity brings with it the possibility of interpretation that is not simply a hermeneutic exercise, a subjective deconstruction of the ideology of capitalism. Rather, this cuts much deeper. It is an objective deconstruction of not only the ideology of capitalism, but of the objective regulatory categories of capitalism itself. Zhang's deconstruction of cause and effect becomes comprehensible, as the categories making up cause and effect are seen to be real abstractions, or immediately derived therefrom, or at the very least they function here as metaphors. The cause-and-effect view we have previously considered, wherein homogeneous unchangeable substances enter into relations with one another, closely parallels the logic of a capitalist economy. Unchanging commodities, according to Sohn-Rethel, enter into relations with other commodities, the most prominent of which is money (while not actually a commodity, fiat money stands in for the universal commodity). In fact, commodities must be assumed to be identical, unchanging in the act of exchange, and equal in terms of value/price for capitalism to work at all. In other words, cause and effect is the epistemological or superstructural product (not in a causal sense!) of generalized commodity production and exchange.

While all concepts may be shown to be false, may be deconstructed by uneven contrast and by negative dialectics, it is only those real abstractions which through their deconstruction yield something more than a simple negative positivity (if that phrase may be forgiven). This product of capitalist categories themselves is nothing other than that recognized quite clearly by Zhang and explored by her in the course of her work “Love in a Fallen City”. It is not simply a negative positivity because the object of its deconstruction is not something merely existing in the ideological sphere, where it would be unclear as to its real connections, but rather it is something directly real, something which exists through the self-abstraction of the capitalist system itself. Uneven contrast is like the deconstruction of the ideology of a person, except instead of a person it is the ideology of reality. Thus, the self-understanding of society, that of philosophical cause and effect (in this case; the critique could easily be extended), is demolished, and dialectical acausality is shown to be of ontological priority. We would do well here to remember Joseph Dietzgen's work on abstraction, which in essence asks the question about the boundaries of objects being the product of mental activity. Inside and outside are mental constructions, and with Zhang they are effectively deconstructed.

The ability of uneven contrast to think the non-conceptual is its great contribution to thought, closely paralleling that of Adorno's negative dialectics. This ability becomes all the more powerful and useful when it is applied to the deconstruction of society's own self-understanding, on a non-individual level, as in the deconstruction of real abstractions and their immediately traceable products.




Works Cited

Adorno, Theodor. Minima Moralia: Reflections From Damaged Life. Trans. E. F. N. Jephcott. London: Verso, 2005. Print.

Adorno, Theodor. Negative Dialectics. Seabury Press, 1973. Print.

Adorno, Theodor. Lectures on Negative Dialectics: Fragments of a Lecture Course 1965/1966. Cambridge: Polity, 2008. Print.

Deleuze, Gilles. Bergsonism. New York: Zone Books, 1988. Print.

Marx, Karl. Capital: A Critique of Political Economy. Vol. 1. Trans. Ben Fowkes. New York: Vintage, 1979.

Sohn-Rethel, Alfred. Intellectual and Manual Labour : a Critique of Epistemology. London: Macmillan, 1978. Print.

Xiaoping Wang. "Eileen Chang's Cross-Cultural Writing and Rewriting in Love in a Fallen City (《倾城之恋》)."Comparative Literature Studies 49.4 (2012): 565-84. Print.

Zhang, Ailing. “My Writing.” Modern Chinese Literary Thought :Writings on Literature, 1893- 1945. Ed. Kirk A. Denton. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1996. 436-442. Print.

Zhang, Ailing. Love in a Fallen City. New York: New York Review Books, 2007. Print.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Truth in Marxist Theory



Here is an essay I wrote last semester, which, while I no longer agree with much of it, is still somewhat interesting.


Truth in Marxist Theory: The Problem of the Totality as The Problem of Universals: 

A Dialectical Reconsideration 

I. Introduction

The concept of truth is a problematic one for modern Marxist philosophers. Throughout the development of Marxian thought, metaphysical concepts have been subjected to intense criticism, and most conceptions of truth are indeed metaphysical. Thus, it has been the task of Marxism to establish a concept of truth that is consistent with materialist dialectics; this is not an easy thing to do. First, the concept must be compatible with the critique of commodity fetishism in particular and reification in general—it cannot simply be a concept denoting what is; it must also take account of the dialectical principle that what is is rather what it becomes, and must further be able to look beyond the surface phenomena to discover the real relations that make up reality and are obscured by hypostasis.

A number of thinkers have attempted to solve the problem of Marxian truth, and thus will be referenced in this connection. A coherent theory of truth within the context of a philosophy of internal relations, such as Marxism, must reference the logical outcome of those relations, namely the totality—the complex of all social relations at all levels of abstraction including emergent properties. The theory of Georg Lukács, espoused in History and Class Consciousness (1923), used the concept of the totality as a major re-appropriation of G. W. F. Hegel for Marxism; hence the prominence of both Hegel and Lukács in our discussion. Lukács posited a totality that was knowable, or at least that the material conditions for that knowledge could be created through practical activity. However, Theodor W. Adorno, a great critic of “identity thinking” (the subsumption of particulars under necessarily ill-suited universals), disputed the concept of the totality on a number of grounds, and thus some of his works and ideas have been included for elucidation of this critique. Adorno's work led to the raising of two main points in this context: (1) all-encompassing concepts (concepts having the quality of totalization) are abstract and meaningless; and (2) descriptions of the totality's specificities are misguided.

In this paper, I will first present the problem of universals for Marxian theory, and then apply this to the specific case of the Marxian totality. Through this exposition, I will mount a defense against the so-called immanent negative theory that would deny the cogency of the totality, while taking into account the valid aspects of its criticism. The defense against the above-mentioned (1) will be based primarily on the manner of conceptual genesis employed—how it differs between totality and Absolute Spirit—and therefore how the type of universals is different. After establishing the need for the totality as a concept and arguing for that concept's coherence, the defense against (2) will take the form of a grounding of the concept in materiality in order to protect it against subjective determinations and idealism. In addition to this, a new conceptual scheme involving multiple totalities—objective, subjective, and conceptual—will be developed and applied for the defense of Lukács.

II. Abstract and Concrete Universals

All thought is abstraction.1 The human subject is bombarded with a mass of sense-data which is “in itself” unstructured. It is the work of the mind to structure this data, putting relevant data together to form discrete objects and present a comprehensible world to one's consciousness. Some data is ignored—for example, at any given moment one does not “see” everything that is in one's field of vision; all data is structured, pressed into categories and objects (Ollman 44-46). The problem is presented by German philosopher Joseph Dietzgen as follows: “Where do we find any indivisible unit outside of our abstract conceptions? Two halves, four fourths, eight eighths, or an infinite number of separate parts form the raw material out of which the mind fashions the mathematical unit. This book, its leaves, its letters, or their parts, are they units? Where do I begin, where do I stop?” (Dietzgen 84).

In other words, particular packets of sense-data are interpreted by the mind, forming a mental representation of the material world.2 There is also another kind of abstraction, however, namely the abstraction of “universals” or “concepts” from these existent objects. It will be helpful to keep in mind that the object is a variable conception, but in general we will assume a given or “fixed” field of objects, and concern ourselves primarily with this second form of abstraction from those objects. Thus the object, as a particular, whatever its boundaries, gives rise to universals. Take the following example: I may abstract the quality of “color” from various colorful objects. “Color” is here our universal, our concept, as opposed to the myriad colorful objects, which are our particulars. Universals, as the direct substance of thought and the locus of discussions of truth, must receive an in-depth analysis.

Following Hegel's lead (and thus that of Lukács), we will here consider two basic types of universals: abstract and concrete. It might help here to review Hegel's philosophical project.3 First and foremost, Hegel was a rationalist and an objective idealist, meaning he attempted to deduce the categories of existence from a “first principle”. However, this first principle couldn't be just any concept; it couldn't be arbitrarily chosen. It had to be the first principle both objectively and necessarily. He reasoned that the pure idea of Being had to be this first principle—whatever we say about anything, we must first say that it in some sense is. But what would it mean to deduce something from something else, namely from Being? One way to think about it is this: The first concept contains what is to be deduced within itself implicitly, and deduction makes the deduced aspect explicit. Hegel's program is to make all that is implicit in Being become explicit. Concepts further on in the system (as he goes on deducing from Being) are more explicit, meaning they show more and more of the truth in themselves. A way to say this is that Being is abstract, whereas, say, Becoming (a subsequent concept) is concrete. Being is abstracted from the differences between everything, leaving only what was the same about all of them, their pure Being. Hegel's process is then to negate Being (supposedly a purely logical operation yielding Not-Being) and subsequently combine the two, yielding Becoming. Becoming contains what is similar and what is different about the earlier concepts—it is thus concrete. It contains the similarity—things that are totally dissimilar obviously cannot be deduced from each other (this amounts to Hegel's belief that ideas contain their opposites within themselves)—and the difference—Being and Not-Being were posited as opposites, and we have subsumed them within Becoming. Although the specifities of Hegel's philosophy were shown to be flawed,4 we might abstract from it and put the distinction the following way:

An abstract universal is a universal that excludes what is different about its species, and includes what is similar. For example, “color” includes what is the same about red and blue, but it does not contain what is different about them. We may abstract (deduce) “color” from the specific colors red and blue, but we cannot deduce the colors red and blue from the idea of color. It is in this sense that we say we “abstract away” this difference. A concrete universal, on the other hand, is a universal that includes what is different between its species and what is the same. In Hegel's philosophy, concrete universals are what allow him to deduce his system of categories—otherwise he couldn't have deduced anything from Being because it was the most abstract concept. Thus, concrete universals were developed so deduction could go both ways, from abstract to concrete and from concrete to abstract:

An abstract universal is a genus which does not contain its species within itself. A wholly new conception of the nature of universals has to be evolved if deduction is to be possible, a conception according to which the universal, the genus, contains its differentiae and its species within itself, so that they can be extricated from it by a logical deduction. Such universals are called by Hegel concrete universals. (Stace 84)

There is, in the above conception, and in the subsequent theorizing of Lukács and Adorno, the assumption that concrete universals are in some sense better than abstract universals5. An abstract universal is empty, whereas a concrete universal is meaningful and useful. Abstract universals exclude the concrete particularities of the historical situation, and thus are not very useful for sociohistorical analysis, which is the self-appointed task of Marxism.

This is particularly important when we add the quality of totalization to our universals. To take an example: Hegel's Absolute Spirit was supposedly the most concrete universal—it lay at the end of his deductive system, it was the most explicitly true category, and as such it contained its entire makeup—all previous concepts in the system—explicitly within itself. To put this idea another way, the Absolute Spirit has no Other, meaning it is total. No categories exist against which it is opposed. This is seen to be necessary because having an Other would permit a further synthesis or inclusion—in other words, the Absolute Spirit would not be so absolute after all; it would be incomplete. Instead of being mediated, this totalized concept is a new immediacy, utterly self-identical. It is here that a problem arises, according to Adorno: “Following Hegel's own argument, such an entity which is not mediated by an other, another concept or real object, is abstract: it is totally indeterminate and empty, something you can arbitrarily attribute properties to—and as such certainly different from the many particular determinations and specific entities it is supposed to contain” (Baumann).

This problem is one with the concept of totalization itself—the absolute inclusion of everything within a supposedly self-identical whole. As Lukács's concept of the totality is a totalized universal, does it then follow that the totality is subject to the same criticism as Adorno mounted against Hegel's totalized universal, namely that it is abstract?

III. Problem (1): The Totality as Universal: Abstract or Concrete?

Lukács was explicit in his belief in the importance of the totality: “Only in this context which sees the isolated facts of social life as aspects of the historical process and integrates them in a totality, can knowledge of the facts hope to become knowledge of reality” (Lukács, History 8)6. Even Adorno admits this, or at least something similar, writing “To comprehend a thing in itself... is nothing but to perceive the individual moment in its immanent connection with others” (Adorno, Negative Dialectics 25). In other words, the totality is the key to understanding the truth of the objects. Without it, epistemic truth is impossible—we would have nothing against which we could in theory measure the truth of a statement. We get, in a rare methodological explanation by Marx himself, a glimpse of this importance: “Even a history of religion that is written in abstraction from this material basis is uncritical” (Marx 494). Critical thought thus lies in the relation of things to materiality—in other words, it lies in their concretion. Note that the following discussion will be limited to the totality's coherence as a concept, due to its importance for truth, and the question of the “filling-in” or description of that totality will be left to the subsequent section.

The totality, as has been said, may be understood as the complex of all social relations, on every level, including emergent properties. Thus, the totality is simply the idea of context (Marx's “material basis”) taken to its logical conclusion—the entirety of something's context. The totality is, much like Hegel's Absolute Spirit, the totalized concrete universal. But what makes the totality properly Marxian as opposed to the idealist Absolute Spirit? Lukács criticized Hegel along the following lines:

Having failed to discover the identical subject-object in history [Hegel's philosophy] was forced to go out beyond history and, there, to establish the empire of reason which has discovered itself... [From that vantage point] History is not able to form the living body of the total system: it becomes a part, an aspect of the totality that culminates in the “absolute spirit”, in art, religion, and philosophy. (Lukács, History 147)

Thus, the totality is not simply context (as things are) but historical context (as things were, are, and will be, “things” being understood as relations or processes). As opposed to this, Hegel's context was an idealist context—not material and social relations but rather conceptual interactions within a closed system of thought; the closed thought was equated with a closed reality, rightly understood as inside that thought.

The question thus presents itself: Is the totality empty and abstract, or is it concrete and meaningful? To answer this, we must analyze the method of conceptual genesis of universals. As Dietzgen pointed out, this method is of the utmost importance. Universals are not simply givens, but are mediated by complex mental processes both conscious and unconscious. In what manner do we form our conception of the totality, and is that manner different than the way Hegel formed his Absolute Spirit? If it is different, can the manner of conceptual genesis we employ save the totality from the allegations of emptiness and pure abstraction that have plagued Hegel's philosophy?

First, Hegel's deductions were of a purely formal, conceptual character. Abstracting from differences, he began with a purely abstract conception of Being. Deduced from this starting point, his further concepts could only ever remain abstract. In contrast, the totality begins with the objects in their multiplicity, and does not deduce things purely logically, subsuming them within further concepts that do violence to the multifarious differences within them. The totality is formed by a conglomeration of processes, a successive concretization not based on subsumption but on an interaction of “contradictory” tendencies, or tensions. For example, Marx's economic analysis progresses from simple reproduction to expanded reproduction, drawing on the mathematical relations of the former to better understand relations in the latter, though the former is not an existent condition (Marx 711-32). In other words, Marx's further concepts are not synthetic unities; rather, they retain the tension of the previous concepts, as the social and material tensions of commodity exchange are not resolvable by thought alone, but only in practice. Lukács saw this and laid the basis for a “scientific” view of the totality, which will be looked at in more detail in the next section. Remember that we do not need to be able to delineate how we are actually capable of discovering the truth of the totality for the concept to be useful, in the sense of providing for a concept of truth, at least hypothetically.

As further concepts are added, as the analysis becomes more and more concrete, the approximation of reality becomes more and more sophisticated. However, as we continue this task of expanding our theory to include more and more relations, a paradox makes itself clear to us: once we contain all relations in our explanation, once we have totalized our social concept, we lose all meaning according to the criticisms, and have gone from concreteness over into abstraction. It is apparent here that something has gone wrong. What in the quality of totalization makes a concept lose its meaning? In light of this, we must look more closely at the term “totalization”.

The quality of totalization, of a concept or thing being total, implies that there is nothing existing outside of it. For Hegel's system, this was manifest in the total self-identity of the Absolute Spirit—it had no Other because it contained its Other within itself. It was the final link in the long chain of Hegel's deductive system, and nothing could be outside it as it was defined. For the totality, this is also the case. The reason why totalization might cause abstractness is that it yields a concept that is non-contextualized—it has no context but is existent purely in itself. However, the totality can be understood as the idea of context itself. Pure context is necessarily decontextualized in the sense of being mediated by a further idea of context; it is already and always immediate in that sense. And indeed this is the problem to which Adorno draws attention: the totality is unmediated mediation. For other concepts, for non-totalized universals, this implies that they are ideological or reified, being torn from their specific, concrete context and hypostatized by the subject.

Whether this also holds for the totality is a different question, however, and is best answered by recourse to the previous argument: the totality is mediated not explicitly by conceptual opposition from outside it or by further abstractions, but by material existence, understood in two ways: first, as the particulars contained inside it conceptually; and second, as the particulars of “reality”, of subjective experience. This first way simply means what has been said before about the method of conceptual genesis leaving the particular tensions intact. The second way implies something “outside” the realm of theory, of the qualia of subjective experience. This has the important implication that something may be outside the totality as concept, against which the concept is tested. This is the concept-object relation it undergoes during critical thinking and experience—the totality must not be hypostatized. But how does the totality as a concept relate differently to its object than the particulars of experience relate to their own partitioning? I argue that this is due to the quality of totalization. However, to make sense of this claim, we will need to develop a new way of looking at the problem.

IV. A New Conceptual Scheme

Here I propose to make a further distinction between the objective totality, subjective totalities, and totality-concepts; until now we have been speaking only of the objective variety and the concept of that objective variety, and thereby running the risk of hypostasis, of the idealism that is equating subjective experience and objective reality. The subjective totalities are the various thought-concretes that arise from mental representation, the operation of which constitute particulars in a conceptual scheme and present those particulars to the subject of consciousness. In this way, subjective totalities are the total horizons of subjectivity, and hence total in a different sense than is the objective totality. The subjective totalities are altered by the action of the forces and tensions of the objective totality. It is apparent that the subjective totalities are contained within the objective totality, as is the third type of totality, the totality-concept. The totality-concept may be that of the objective or subjective totalities, and is simply the conscious mental representation of them.

These sundered totalities are of a different type than the Absolute Spirit, which was in some sense all three types of totality in one. This lack of differentiation—caused by Hegel's equating of thought and existence, and of consciousness and unconsciousness—led him to difficulties. As against his idealism, the opposition of the three must be held, with each subsumed in the more comprehensive and less-comprehensible level. The concept of truth thus becomes a kind of isomorphism between these three levels. Whether this is possible to achieve is a different issue, dealt with in the next section. For now, we will analyze how this scheme relates to the formerly-defined categories of abstract and concrete.

Prior to our three-level scheme of totality, we had a simpler two-level scheme, which denied the antagonism of conscious and unconscious mental operation, and was hence a kind of hidden idealism, a positing of the equality of thought-concrete and real-concrete. The abstractness or concreteness of our analysis was restricted to this bare equality, which impressed upon it the inability to avoid hypostasis. Our method of conceptual genesis was in that case stunted, and concretion threatened to be limited by the unaccounted-for horizons of the individual subjectivity as opposed to that of our concepts.

V. Problem (2): The Description of the Totality

Having established the coherence of the totality and presented a new conceptual scheme for dealing with the concept, we turn now to the problem of description, the material grounding of the totality in reality. A first step was made in the above description, by the very nature of the scheme as one containing multiple levels of interaction. We must, however, consider the usefulness of this description of the totality. Lukács clearly did not view the totality as a simple theoretical object, but rather something that could be studied, yielding economic and political insights.7

The problem for both Lukács and Hegel was the finding of the “subject-object” of history, the combined knower-and-known whole, the totality. For the latter, this was the Absolute Spirit; for the former, it was the proletariat. As both the subject of history (the active doer, the would-be totality of society after the communist revolution) and the object of history (the passive “done-to”, the would-be all of society, also the totality), the proletariat was thought to have the ability to overcome the problem of truth by creating its own social conditions, since the problem of truth was essentially the problem of the given, reified particular. Thus, the totality could only be fully known when the proletarian revolution had been successful—this is one version of the famous unity of theory and practice. It is stated by Rockmore as follows: “Lukács maintains that the proletariat makes history and therefore can know it. In this way Lukács supports his claim that Marxism surpasses the supposedly fictitious Hegelian idea of the absolute to grasp the real historical subject” (Rockmore).

This is Adorno's criticism: Lukács supposes that the totality can only be known after the proletarian revolution, which is supposing some description of the totality, something that it is not legitimate to suppose. This is because he assumes that the proletariat is the aforementioned subject-object of history, which is dependent on the character of the unknowable totality. In the words of Nicholas Joll: “Adorno believes that one cannot specify the correct epistemic relation between subjects (knowers) and objects. The reconciled condition will be so novel that any anticipation of it will be marked 'by the same distortion and indigence which it seeks to escape'. Adorno infers that 'the full object' is not to be 'positively pictured'” (Joll).

We shall see that this argument is very different from the one advanced as (1) in the previous sections. There, Adorno denied the totality due to its abstractness, where here it is denied due to the epistemic environment of current existence.8 Let us now examine this new criticism in more detail.

The idea that “Practice itself was an eminently theoretical concept” is one that sheds some light on the problem (Adorno, Negative Dialectics 144). Lukács could not seek recourse to practice because his concept of “practice” was just that—a concept. He could not say that the truth would be reached through a certain course of action because that course of action was itself articulated theoretically. The correct epistemic relation to the objects was not as easily knowable as that. But, we must ask, what is barring the understanding completely and totally from truth? Is it impossible, as Adorno alleged, to articulate a course of action that could lead to the resolution of the problem of knowledge?

VI. The New Scheme Applied: A Critical Re-interpretation of Lukács

The tripartite framework of interwoven totalities points the way to the resolution of the problem of truth. Having articulated a coherent theory of truth—the isomorphism or symbolic equation of the three totalities—we must ask how truth may be reached, and if we cannot come up with an answer, our theory will be quite useless, although still interesting. It is here that the method of conceptual genesis resurfaces; the formation of the totality-concept is related to the formation of the subjective totality, which is related to the objective totality. The formation of the concept is inseparable from both of our two previously-posed problems—form is inseparable, though distinct, from content.

The relation of the totalities is of the utmost importance. The totality-concept has epistemological access to the subjective totality, which then has access to the objective totality. This means that there are two interactions we can consider, without jumping the gap. In other words, previous attempts at truth were restricted by the fact that the totality-concept was related directly to the objective totality, when in reality it can only be legitimately related to the subjective totality. Thus, the task of discovering truth lies not in “directly perceiving” the objective totality, which is impossible, but in alteration of the nature of the subjective totality as the mediating concept between the two others. This takes us back to Lukács, except in a more sophisticated scheme—to find truth, we must establish a social order, a complex of social relations that relates the subjective and objective totalities more fully, which would then allow for the formation of a totality-concept that coincides with the objective totality isomorphically. There are thus two considerations we must make here: (a) the possibility of articulating the material and epistemic conditions for the double-isomorphism of subjective and objective totality, and (b) the conditions for the method of genesis of the totality-concept from those relations.

Lukács really sought for the triple-isomorphism without explicitly considering that there were indeed three parts. The subjective totality can be directly formulated as a concept through the theory and techniques of psychoanalysis and phenomenology. We can directly know the variations and qualities of subjectivity, simply by experience and by analysis. But how can we create the conditions of subjective socialization that correspond to reality, to the objective totality which we cannot experience? The answer lies in the deconstruction of ideology, of false concepts and of the tendency to hypostatize, the alteration of those subjective horizons. This is where Adorno once again re-enters the picture. The conditions of ideological deconstruction are those that relate the subject critically and negatively to the falsely-presented world in which she is situated. Through Adorno's negative theory, we come to understand that the world is not as our concepts would have it, and further that these concepts are mediated by our subjective totalities. His work implied that we cannot relate the objective totality to its concept, and this is true. However, a relation of our subjective totalities to our concept of the subjective totality is permissible, because we can know our subjective totalities. Knowing the relation of concept to subjective totality, we know several links of our tripartite chain. The material and epistemic conditions which yield a collective consciousness in what was previously restricted to the unconscious—in other words, what yields Lukács's subject-object—is what is to be striven for, because that is a direct creation of the conditions of existence and of subjectivity as opposed to the passive acceptance of the reified given.

Why does the conscious creation of subjectivity bridge the gap and penetrate the truth of the objective totality? The creation of subjectivity lies in the sphere of objectivity, or else all is solipsism. Thus, we come to know the objective totality through manipulation of the subjective. We cannot, in the last analysis, know the objective totality directly in the sense of conceptualizing it as it exists, but rather we act in and through it. The theory of acting in this manner is thus the theory of the objective totality. Hence we have a defense of Lukács's conception of praxis.

Something must here be clarified: how does our new understanding withstand the criticisms of the type espoused by Adorno? It withstands (1) because it's method of genesis is not one of synthesis; it withstands (2) because it works outside the realm of subjectivity, though it works on that very subjectivity. Our theory denies that we cannot know, because we can know through knowledge of and action upon our subjective totalities. The concept of practice is no longer simply theoretical or conceptual—it works not on concepts but on the psyche, and in terms dictated by that psyche; those terms may be concepts, but they are able to be directly related to their object, the subjective totality . Thus, it escapes the criticism by relating concretely to a directly knowable subjective reality.

VII. Conclusion

Without being allowed any access to the objective totality, analysis becomes an analysis of the given. An organic evolution of social relations cannot be adequately pictured, much less a truly revolutionary situation. Adorno's dialectics are, curiously, to borrow Walter Benjamin's phrase, “Dialectics at a standstill” (Benjamin, qtd. In Buck-Morss 127). The concept of the subjective totality re-introduces practice, and hence true temporality, into Marxian theories of truth. The epistemological conditions that allow us access to truth must be put forth as a kind of psychoanalytic Marxism.9 An area for further theorizing would be the way the relations of society socialize its members and constitute them as subjects.10 While these theories must continually be put to trial by the critical intellect, theoretically the concepts are coherent. The totality (now conceptualized as multiple totalities) is seen to be essential for the prescriptions of revolutionary Marxism. The specifities of the conjuncture in which conscious creation of subjectivity is possible must unfortunately be left to subsequent analysis. Perhaps Adorno's saying, “Wrong life cannot be lived rightly”, is true in some sense, but we must take care not to hypostatize this “wrong life” (Adorno, Minima Moralia 39). Wrong life can be made right, and not in the way Adorno refuted with the concept of theoretical practice.


Bibliography 

Adorno, Theodor W. Minima Moralia : Reflections From Damaged Life. Trans. E. F. N. Jephcott. London: Verso, 2005. Print.

Adorno, Theodor W. Negative Dialectics. Trans. E. B. Ashton. London: Continuum Press, 1973. Print.

Adorno, Theodor W. “Sociology and Empirical Research.” The Positivist Dispute in German Sociology. Trans. Glyn Adey and David Frisby. Farnham, Surrey, UK: Ashgate Publishing, 1981. Print.

Baumann, Charlotte. "Adorno, Hegel and the Concrete Universal." Philosophy & Social Criticism 37.1 (2011): 73-94. Print.

Buck-Morss, Susan. The Origin of Negative Dialectics : Theodor W. Adorno, Walter Benjamin and the Frankfurt Institute. New York: Free Press, 1977. Print.

Dietzgen, Joseph. The Positive Outcome of Philosophy. Trans. Ernest Untermann. Chicago: Charles H. Kerr & Co., 1906.

Finlayson, Gordon. "Adorno: Modern Art, Metaphysics and Radical Evil." Modernism/modernity 10.1 (2003): 71-95. Print.

Joll, Nicholas. "Adorno's Negative Dialectic: Theme, Point, and Methodological Status." International Journal of Philosophical Studies 17.2 (2009): 233-53. Print.

Lukács, György. History and Class Consciousness: Studies in Marxist Dialectics. Trans. Rodney Livingstone. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1971. Print.

Lukács, György. Lenin: A Study on the Unity of His Thought. Trans. Nicholas Jacobs. London: Verso, 2009. Print.

Marx, Karl. Capital : a Critique of Political Economy. Trans. Ben Fowkes. New York: Penguin Classics, 1990. Print.

Ollman, Bertell. Dance of the Dialectic : Steps in Marx’s Method. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2003. Print.

Rockmore, T. "Fichte, Lask, and Lukacs's Hegelian Marxism" Journal of the History of Philosophy 30.4 (1992): 557-77. Print.

Stace, W. T. The Philosophy of Hegel: a Systematic Exposition. New York: Dover Publications, 1955. Print.

Footnotes

1 See, for example, Bertell Ollman's defense of this view in Dance of the Dialectic, chapter 5: “Putting Dialectics to Work: The Process of Abstraction in Marx's Method”.

2 Bertell Ollman has dealt extensively with this aspect of the problem in his many works.

3 The explanation given in this paragraph is in some sense a summary of W. T. Stace's The Philosophy of Hegel.

4 See, for example, Stace.

5 Take, for example, the following statement by Lukács: “By contrast [to bourgeois abstractness], in the teeth of all these isolated and isolating facts and partial systems, dialectics insists on the concrete unity of the whole” (Lukács, History 6).

6 And again, on the totality's importance for Marxism: “It is not the primacy of economic motives in historical explanation that constitutes the decisive difference between Marxism and bourgeois thought, but the point of view of totality” (Lukács, History 27).

7 For example, Lukács writes that “Nor can a single isolated event, regardless of whether it is a victory or a defeat, possibly decide [the eventual outcome of proletarian revolutionary activity]” (Lukács, Lenin 38), with the implication that the totality is decisive as against the particulars.

8 It is characteristic of Adorno that even the “good” is not posited concretely, but rather we are left with the idea that current existence is undeniably bad, “radically evil” (Finlayson). Adorno confines his critique to how bad things are now.

9 See, perhaps, Slavoj Žižek and Alain Badiou.

10 For example in the work of Louis Althusser.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Two Levels of Social Stasis in Wang Anyi's "Brothers"


Two Levels of Social Stasis in Wang Anyi's “Brothers”
I. Introduction
In the short story “Brothers” by Wang Anyi, and again in “Woman” by Chen Ying, there is a marked contrast between static and dynamic characters (men being static in “Brothers” and dynamic in “Woman”; women being dynamic in “Brothers” and more static or staticized in “Woman”). These differences in character development can be read as products of reification, especially in the case of Old Two and her husband in “Brothers”. This reification must be understood as emanating (though not necessarily causally) from the economic “base”, but through an imperializing effect has taken up residence within the so-called superstructure relating to the base, and from there spreads dialectically and nearly imperceptibly to other spheres. The interrelations of the multiple levels of reification cause a number of problems of interpretation, which trace back to the necessity of clearly delineating those levels.
II. Static and Dynamic Characters
In “Brothers”, the three brothers are dynamic characters. Their deep-seated dissatisfaction with being placed into roles and pressed into certain forms of interaction attests to this amply enough. For example, on occasions they were “...increasingly unable to recognize their true selves. They would resume a long period of normal and mundane life. During such days, they would regularly eat, sleep, go to classes, hand in homework, and write love letters to their 'wives' at home” (95). In other words, the loss of self was accompanied by being pressed into specific social roles. The message is thus that the “true self” is dynamic, while the bourgeois-social self is both untrue and static. However, if this were the only point about their dynamism, what a static dynamism it would be! Instead, as the story progresses, a number of characteristics further clarifying the brothers' dynamism emerge. First, the change of Old Three's attitude towards feminism and towards her social role as wife emphasizes the power of the static and of hypostasis, and its prominent role in society as it exists. Another example of the same trend can be found in the ending of the story, when all contact between the brothers is broken off, each supposedly resigning to their allotted social roles. Second, the dynamism of the brothers is expressed not as a focused emotional response but as a diffuse and all-encompassing qualitative state of consciousness, as shown by Old Two's existential crisis before re-connecting with Old One. This means that, true to Bergson's essay Time and Free Will, the dynamism is experienced by static society as a Deleuzian heterogeneous multiplicity, not a collection of “ones”, but an anti-reductionist collection of “manys”. This is a true virtual dynamism, and not simply one of the type that is often expressed in stories through character development over time. This point will be especially important when we move on to study the unique effects of reification, the generalized descendent of the Marxian theory of commodity fetishism.
As truly as the brothers are dynamic, the men in the story are static. This is primarily evidenced by the part of the story that is told almost from Old Two's husband's point of view. For example, it is said that “[i]t was fine if she wanted to skip breakfast and ruin her daily routine, but he would see to it that the world around her remained as impeccably regulated as it was before”, and that “[h]is aims in life were simple and clear unlike hers, which were confused and chaotic” (108). In other words, the husband represents the pure, supposed necessity of the regularity and normalcy of bourgeois life—anything else, any questioning of this necessity ought to make one “ashamed of her absurd behavior” (108). While this theme of bourgeois normalization is a primary one in the text, the analysis will continue with the prerequisites and underlying overdetermined elements which give rise to this surface phenomenon.
In contrast to these gendered roles in “Brothers”, the characters in Chen Ying's “Woman” have altogether different compositions. The man wavers between support and opposition to his wife's desire for an abortion, invoking such widely differing reasoning as letting the pregnancy run its 'natural course' and wanting to preserve his wife's personal and intellectual freedom—in other words, he is profoundly confused about what he wants for his wife. In terms of the static-dynamic divide, he appears to be on the dynamic side, but this is only a surface-level effect. His dynamism is simply a cover for his static core. This becomes clearer when we refer back to the Bergsonian viewpoint expressed above: his dynamism is expressed quantitatively, as wavering between two given positions, and not as a truly qualitative act of experiential consciousness, wherein positions themselves evolve along with the self. Thus, both of the stories under analysis involve static males. The case of the wife in “Woman” is not very important for the present work, the women in “Brother”s providing ample examples, but suffice it to say that she appears to experience what we have identified as true dynamism of the Bergsonian variety.
III. Reification
So far we have been analyzing a superstructural phenomenon, not only on the level of “appearance” but primarily on the level of ideology. It is now important to connect dialectically the two levels which, through various modes of interaction, produce true understanding of the reality of the situation. In capitalist society, as Marxism notes, there is a contradiction between private ownership and social production. Productive activity becomes social only in the exchange of commodities. In other words, the regulative aspects of the economy are more or less monopolized by markets—what gets produced, how much, and for whom are all questions decided by markets, through the activity of markets1. This activity, the act of exchange, is therefore the social-synthesizing mechanism of the entire commodity economy, and thus also more or less of people's lives as they are lived.2 The abstraction of the exchange relation occurs seemingly without the need for ideology (in the sense of Althusser) to play even a minor role in analysis. However, this view is one sided for a number of reasons: it ignores the effect of superstructural dominance during periods of revolutionary upheaval as theorized by Mao Zedong in his essay On Contradiction; it ignores the more general case of dialectical interaction between superstructure and base and instead falls back on mechanical materialism; it reduces the problem of change on the individual level to that of the total combined level of society and therefore becomes an argument for the impossibility of change altogether; finally and most importantly, it ignores the link between real abstraction and ideological abstraction. It is this last point that will be the focus of the remainder of this essay.
What is the real social phenomenon that (avoiding giving ontological precedence to this or that sphere for the time being) changes with the ideological phenomenon of reified thinking? At first pass the answer seems obvious: the perceived stasis of Old Two's husband is supported and corroborated by his own ideological explanation of the same phenomenon, when the narration appears to be from his point of view (108). The ideology of stasis is in fact the reality of stasis, though with some room for movement existing between the two concepts. The jump from Old Two's to her husband's ideological makeup is the very definition of the social, at least on a microcosmic level. The connections and interpenetrations of these two spheres cohere into a larger sphere that then reacts back upon them as individuals, becoming semi-autonomous. So we have here two dialectical relations: social and ideological abstraction, which are shown to be equal for purposes of the story (the husband stands in for the real/social); individual and social ideological abstraction. These three terms and two relationships, taken to be in the shape of a semisolid chain, each link most strongly related to the one nearest it but weakly related to the other, are the basic building blocks of a theory of ideology not unrelated to the material basis of society, also avoiding mechanical materialism.
The conclusion of the story, however, leaves the resolution of the contradictions between the three chain-links open. Through the negation of the possibility of renewal, as in the phrase “There are some things that are extremely beautiful but very fragile. Once broken they cannot be repaired”, the thing-ness of people becomes even more explicit (141). It is too late; Old Two has already solidified once again, contrary to what we can assume are her true desires. The figure of the husband, the embodiment of reified social relations for Old Two, is here also a sexually dominant opposition figure to the love between the two women—these two roles are not so disparate as might appear. In any case, though, the society that Old Two experienced in her husband is now experienced by Old One in Old Two. The expanded, resilient nature of the social abstraction comes in this case even closer to the commodity-basis upon which it draws.
V. Conclusion
The relation between base and superstructure is a prominent theme in the short story Brothers by Wang Anyi, albeit only obliquely. Through the use of static and dynamic characters and focus on the conflicts between them on that account, the process of reification is brought to the surface of the work as a force contrary to the dynamism of true conscious experience and therefore of true love and desire. The socially-synthetic role of commodity fetishism is apparent, and in the development of the characters' consciousnesses it presses its seemingly indelible mark. The struggle for self-discovery and individual liberation undertaken by the brothers contains in its very methodology—that of the individual, of the bourgeois, of their embedding in social reality—the assurance of defeat. The superstructure may be semi-autonomous, but it is no more than semi-. While there is not enough space here to go into more detail, the importance of differences in level of analysis and of solutions, and of their interrelations, is seen to be extremely important, for there will never be a mechanical solution to ideological problems no matter how hard it is sought.

1See I.I. Rubin's excellent work Essays on Marx's Theory of Value
2See Alfred Sohn-Rethel's book Intellectual and Manual Labour

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Uneven Contrast and Causality in Zhang Ailing's "Love in a Fallen City"



Uneven Contrast and Causality in Zhang Ailing's Love in a Fallen City

I. Introduction
Zhang Ailing's novella Love in a Fallen City is a powerful attack on homogeneous cause-and-effect as a model for human emancipatory subjectivity. Through the technique of uneven contrast, Zhang refutes same-level interpretations of relational elements, and thus refutes, in this context, cause-and-effect. Through this critique, a systemic view of individual human freedom emerges, with a prominent positive and substantial component, contrary to its “desolate” appearances.
II. Uneven Contrast
Zhang Ailing herself places great emphasis on the technique of uneven contrast, writing “...I still use the method of uneven contrast to show the reality in the empitness, the simplicity in the ornamentation, of contemporary people” (Zhang, “My Writing” 439). Uneven contrast is defined not by the binary opposition of two ideas (that might be “even contrast”), but by the juxtaposition of multiple levels of difference, of heterogeneous elements. As a prime example of uneven contrast, Zhang writes “Countless thousands of people dead, countless thousands of people suffering, after that an earth-shaking revolution... Liusu didn't feel there was anything subtle about her place in history. She stood up, smiling, and kicked the pan of mosquito-repellant incense under the table” (Zhang, Love 167). The unevenness of the opposition is striking—death and suffering contrasted with something so heterogeneous as kicking mosquito-repellant incense. While able to be framed in terms of same-level differences, the opposition would then not communicate the extent of the lived difference between the terms, but would rather substitute an artificial homogeneity which is clearly not there. In other words, framed as an even contrast, each term would be mediated symmetrically by the other.
Speaking of the subject-object relationship, Theodor Adorno wrote that “Due to the inequality inherent in the concept of mediation, the subject enters into the object altogether differently from the way the object enters into the subject” (Adorno 183). Mediation, whether it be of subject-object, concept-object, or concept-concept, is thus inherently asymmetrical, though we may try to force a symmetry out of it. Uneven contrast can thus be thought of as the “realist”, or at least unforced, form of contrast, that which corresponds to the real movement of concepts against each other. The question then comes up regarding the various representative models we have of these two concepts of mediation. It will be shown that, philosophically regarded, the cause-and-effect relationship is just this kind of forcing into symmetry.
III. Repudiation of Cause and Effect
The schema cause-and-effect presents two opposed elements in their abstract relationship. On the one side is cause, the supposed ground or reason of the effect; on the other side is effect, the supposed made-explicit of what was implicit in the cause, as a Hegelian definition of the mechanistic process might state (it is predictable that this kind of definition could not be made from within the mechanistic system because of its aversion to reaching beyond itself, which is in turn a marked feature of dialectics). This externality of cause to effect does not mean they exist on multiple levels, but rather that they are, as wholly abstract opposites, on the same level, and thus there exists and “evenness” in their interaction that Zhang attempts to deny or subvert with her use of uneven contrast. Further, each cause must equally be an effect in another moment, and vice versa, so that there is a reproducible or reversible character to things so construed. The implication pointed to by uneven contrast is that cause-and-effect is in any case not a fully adequate model of reality. Thus, Love in a Fallen City is the substance counterpart of the form of uneven contrast—I am here referring to the lines “Hong Kong's defeat had brought Liusu victory. But in this unreasonable world, who can distinguish cause from effect?” (Zhang, Love 167). The critique of homogeneity has, in this story, reached quite a full articulation, and not only one of form, which would be the case if cause-and-effect was not explicitly repudiated.
IV. Freedom
But what can come after the model of cause-and-effect, that which has dominated scientific, intellectual, and everyday discourse so powerfully, and that has ever masqueraded as “common-sense”, like a law of logic that could not be broken? On this point, the text is not clear. However, something may be deduced from the nature of uneven contrast and the way the narrative proceeds.
It is initially tempting to interpret the events of the story, especially given its refutation of cause-and-effect, as a support of Jungian synchronicity. However, given the self-proclaimed importance of uneven contrast, this interpretation leaves something to be desired, as it relies on a psychical injection of meaning into probabilistically unthinkable events. Rather, in Zhang's narrative something more is at stake; it is not simply a matter of “meaning” that she points to, although that is important. Uneven contrast is present not just in the ideological or conscious interactions of the characters, but is put forth as something objective as well—the scene with the mosquito-repellant incense is instructive in this regard. The out-thereness of unevenness is thus not simply a case of synchronicity. But what is it?
In a universe without cause-and-effect, strictly speaking, there is (or may be) freedom. Subjectivity, in emancipating itself from the mechanistic universe in which it had been situated, is through the model of uneven contrast embedded in a complex web of interactions and interpenetrations. The “effects” of consciousness, being no longer purely reducible to their antecedents (see Bergson's Time and Free Will), open up a space of “within-me” from which conscious action may spring. As multi-level phenomena, these “effects” have a constitutive function towards the subject. Instead of being totally explained by external and pre-existing factors, there is something more going on in the black box of the mind.
Again, why does a multi-level view of phenomena lead one to posit a space for freedom? First, mechanistic determinism (abstract cause-and-effect) is specifically repudiated by multi-level interactions; second, what lies in its place is a system that, although embedded in the larger world-context, has some degree of autonomy; third, and this is perhaps the most important implication of the foregoing, the asymmetrical/uneven character creates not simply a rigid structure of negatively-defined interactions, but one of positive substance. Without this there could be no talk of freedom. This new positive substance, of which the previously-noted substance in the substance/form distinction is a symptom, is predicated on the uneven, and on the  durée that is simultaneously opened up by it. Finally, freedom is explicit in the text in the destruction of Hong Kong, the old relations, to make room for the (more) emancipatory relations of love between Liusu and Liuyuan.
V. Conclusion
The importance of uneven contrast for Zhang Ailing's story Love in a Fallen City is two-fold: first, it opens a space for the critique of cause-and-effect through asymmetrical mediation; second, through this critique it points the way towards a concept of individual freedom existing through the necessarily positive aspects of those asymmetrical structures. This fits well with the substance of the narrative, with the destruction of the old oppressive space of Hong Kong, and its replacement by love with Liuyuan. However, taken on its own, without social freedom as its counterpart, Liusu's prognosis is bleak, as has been pointed to by some scholars (Wang 9). Perhaps the criticism of Zhang by the CCP has something to do with this lack of attention to the “social” aspect of emancipation. In any case, the complex relation between form and content, tied together by the concept of uneven contrast, unmistakably points towards freedom. The supposed “desolation” of the writing is undermined by its own form—the positive emerges as a powerful counterweight. Against this, there can strictly speaking be no “desolation”. Its revelation, then, exists formally in a quite different way than was imagined by the author (Zhang, “My Writing” 438).
Works Cited

Adorno, Theodor W. Negative Dialectics. Seabury Press, 1973. Print.

Wang, Xiaoping. "Eileen Chang's Cross-Cultural Writing and Rewriting in Love in a Fallen City (《 倾 城之恋》)." Comparative Literature Studies 49.4 (2012): 565-584. Project MUSE. Web. 4 Mar. 2013. <http://muse.jhu.edu/>.

Zhang, Ailing. “My Writing.” Modern Chinese Literary Thought : Writings on Literature, 1893-1945. Ed. Kirk A. Denton. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1996. 436-442. Print.

Zhang, Ailing. Love in a Fallen City. New York: New York Review Books, 2007. Print.