A world without Virgil. by Gerardo Muñoz

I remember that around 2007 there was a graffiti in Venice that read: “Non c’è nessun Virgilio a guidarci nell’inferno”, which can be rendered as “There is no Virgil that can guide us in this hell”. Many street graffitis come and go, and are easy to forget, but not this one. What does it mean that we live in an epoch without the company of the Roman poet Virgil? The suggestion prima facie is quite clear: if our voyage in the present entails a concrete hell (the subjection into economic domination and nihilism), it is an evermore so repulsive voyage as we lack the presence of the poet who can bear witness to the passing of an epoch and the possibility of the coming of a new earth. 

But why Virgil? As Erich Auerbach already noted, for Dante the historical Virgil is both the poet and the historical witness, given that the Roman poet’s exemplary descent into hell was the preparation of a “terrene Jerusalem (earthy Jerusalem), the universal peace that came to pass during the Roman Empire, proposed and glorified in light of its future mission…Virgil led the way as a poet because of his description of the realm of the dead; he was thus a guide through the afterlife because he knew the way. But it was not only as a poet that was destined to lead. He was destined because he was a Roman and a human being” [1]. It would follow that an age dominated by the realization of  absolute indifferentiation – this is the frame of nihilism after all – highly repressive of any proximity with the dead, can have no use of any Virgil even if one would offer to open a path to leave hell behind. The artist will not be understood or recognized as either human or poet, but rather taken as fully inhuman and incomprehensible. And this perhaps speaks to the tonality of terror and blindness that defines the undifferentiated suspended posthistorical time. 

That there are no Virgils to cast a forward light outside the epocal hellish condition entails that we are left with an absolute politicization over life and death that takes the form of a novel technical imperium. We know that in Antiquity, political unhappiness and disarray was a common state of affairs (and also exile from civil life); life was conditioned, although not totally subsumed, by cycles of domination and insubordination during volatile civil stasis. But still in that historical epoch, a poet like Virgil, as both human and poet, was able to turn away from the “harsh and evil world, and sets out for Arcadia where he allows no hope, not even any desire to do something about the suffering world, to lighten his sorrow and despair” in the communion of friendship and concordia to retreat from static political absorption [2]. When we say that our predicament is that of a a world without Virgil, this should not be understood as a reiteration of Max Kommerell’s paradigmatic Jugend ohne Goethe (“a youth without Goethe”); but rather, more fundamentally, as the impossibility for the human species to imagine a sense of redemption in world that reduces itself to exchange and strife. In other words, the absence of the memory of Virgil speaks directly to the ever-increasing incapacity of existence to dwell beyond the imperatives of a calamitous attenuation of destruction and oblivion. We should keep in mind that Dante’s memory of Virgil was a symbol for the poetizing myths of a new life; and, in turn, Virgil’s own Arcadian nomos was the confabulation of reality and myth expressed in a language that measured itself against the orderability of imperial force. The triumph of total politicity, which is to say the coupling of the political into effective dispensation of technology, mutes not only the voice of the poets, as much the contact of speech and the passing of the world into nothingness. 

In The Death of Virgil, Hermann Broch describes this very passage through the mystical death and cosmic transcendence of the Roman poet himself, who now enters “a primal darkness which had held itself hidden behind the furthermost starry orb and now, independent of the arching path of lights, indeed, without putting out a single one of them it filled the dome of existence with impenetrable darkness: the essential world-darkness burst forth, that uncreated darkness which is infinitely more than the mere loss of light or absence of light…” [3]. For Broch, the passing of the world in the wake of the death of the poet does not coincide with the silence constitutive of speech, but with the severability of a language transformed as fully transparent and unmediated, in Broch’s words “all understanding, consummating, might and commanding; the world of pledge, the pure word, becoming so overpowering that nothing could withstand it” [4].

Extrapolated to our times, the liquidation of language takes form of absolute theatricality of the word, ascending to rhetorical and computational transparency. And in this unnerving cacophony, where everything is communicated, is realized in the historical project of cybernetics and automatized languages. The ethical texture of speech becomes unattainable for both humans, as poetizing beings, as they become incapable of inhabiting the dislocated abyss between myth and reality, now pivoted to a linguistic closure that commands them into the high noon of despair. An endless despair that has relentlessly lost with the inception of the divine.

Notes

1. Erich Auerbach. “Figura” (1938), in Selected Essays: Time, History, and Literature (Princeton University Press, 2014), 108

2. Bruno Snell. The Discovery of the Mind (Dover Publications, 1982), 293.

3. Hermann Broch. The Death of Virgil (Vintage, 1972), 471.

4. Ibid., 481.

De Certeau’s untold night. by Gerardo Muñoz

The highest poetic moment in Michel De Certeau’s La culture au pluriel (1974) appears in the concluding pages where the historian resorts to a hunting image: “Culture is an untold night in which the revolutions of earlier times are dormant, invisible, folded into practices – but fireflies, and sometimes great nocturnal birds, cutting through it – as thrusts and creations that trace the promise of another day to come” [1]. This is De Certeau’s trope that stands for culture as opening of possibilities, the shoreline where administrators and technicians (his own terms) do not dare to cross and will probably never adventure. This is the site (the night, la noche oscura, which has a ringtone of the mystical tradition that the author knew perfectly well) where De Certeau wants to posit the possibilities of new struggles of cultural alterities [2]. A book in 1974 means many things, but for De Certeau it is an incursion into the collapse of his historical present, already showing full fledged signs of the crisis of legitimation, erosion of institutional trust, and the decomposition of social forms across Western symbolic realities. It is the nascent confirmation of the ascent of real subsumption, a term that does not appear in De Certeau’s book, although it informs it, even if negatively (the Italian Fiat wildstrikes makes a surprising cameo in the last paragraphs). Where to look, then?  

De Certeau’s answer read today does bring much naivete: cultural alterity. But this notion, which is reworked and contested in concrete fields of human activities (the university and schools, the new technological society and communication, social practices intertwined in popular and elite culture, power relations and post-statist configurations) do not appeal to the identitarian cosmopolitan horizon prima facie anchored in the diversity administration of a well integrated, albeit exploited planetary humanity. One senses that for De Certeau the nineteenth century “Social Question” has become the “cultural question” as the unit of the national sovereign state wanes and reacts. With the crisis of legitimation as backdrop, De Certeau sees the rise of a new subjectivity that he calls the new “militants without a cause”, a battalion of “exiles” that will only tacitly accept credible cultural imprints [3]. He wants to work with “culture” because at bottom De Certeau is both a historian and a realist. This new erosion of civil society-State relations entails a “new exile is in the works” [4]. And for De Certeau the exile, since biblical times, is seeking a new Earth where to “land”. 

In 1974, De Certeau’s invitation was to create the conditions for pluralist cultural landings that will foster, in the night of waiting, a new politics. But, could the same be said today even assuming concrete situations and the infuriating image of migration as a token for the workings of hegemonic politics? Does Gaia not alert us that we must “land” somewhere else on Earth? The anger and dissatisfaction that De Certeau cautiously predicated head on is already here in the form of what some of us have theorized as ongoing social stasis that is integrated in every social mediation. In the global metastasis of the 1970s De Certeau could claim that “behind anger there is the desire to create a polis and a politics; there is a desire to organize the conditions of life….” [5].

We are far removed from this desire, and even the most prominent cycle of revolts of the decade have refused in the solicitation of a new politics or a political horizon; and, even if, almost like weeds in cracks of piled urban ruins, we see again and again the last residues of the desire for hegemonic representation of the totality (the People, the Movement, the Class). In this light – now it is our own epoche – culture can only be compensatory, and still very much a symptom of the closure of exteriority. “Where there is no longer an imaginable outside we lose the possibility of an inside”, Moreiras wrote at the turn of the century against every form of culturalism [6]. Of course, De Certeau was well aware of it, which is why his proposal to cultural alterity retains zones of hermeneutical ambiguity many decades later [7]. For instance, he writes when commenting on neo-nationalist regional movements (Quebec, Catalonia, Occitania) that “cultural claims appear to be a reminder and a compensation” [8]. 

And recent events have proven De Certeau correct: what is Catalan nationalism – whether left or right, although ideological division is not a substantive difference – if not a compensatory rhetorical ruse to mobilize regional political elites to feed off the stagnant resources of a waning state form? The rhetoric of “political foundation” in the Catalan case created an “cultural alterity” that depended on the high illusion of hegemonic politics; a politics solely based on the “bad faith” of escalating and superposing values (“Spanish” v. “Catalan”) as the combustion of a fractured political social contract that ultimately deepens its fragmentation. De Certeau noted – cited with the long Augustunian tradition of political liberalism – that politics cannot bring happiness, but only create its conditions. However, today even this liberal ideal fails to account for its true source: our metapolitical collapse at the twilight of secularization means that the revival of the “social bond” is not to be found in the demand of new political principles, however narrowly or broadly defined. De Certeau in 1974 aspired at giving politics one more chance pulling it to the facticial heterogeneity of culture: “a politics that discovers in the diversity of the sky a generical….linked to the ambition of beginning over again, that is, of living” [9].

And indeed, we must begin all over again, but is really the only possibility? I believe that there are symptoms elsewhere in La culture au pluriel, and these concern language. In the second chapter, referring to the crisis of speech, De Certeau refers to the “denaturing act” of speech, as communication enters the regimen of commercial language and new computational masteries (what Jaime Semprún called neo-language) [10]. The crisis of language in the ascent of a new expressivity renders communication obsolete and obtuse; parasitic, or mushroom-like, as Hugo Von Hofmenthal had already noted in his Letter to Lord Chandos. Speech becomes a new form of blasphemy, something confirmed in recent years in the United States, which takes itself also as the homeland of “Free Speech” is increasingly under heavy surveillance by constitutionalism of codified parameters of “time, place, and manner”.

De Certeau shows himself highly consternated about blasphemous language, which is also conspiratorial language; the language that dwells on the reverse of social normativity and legal codification. But this perhaps the only language today can properly speak of pain without recurring to the transactions of violence; especially of the numbing violence of a neo-language that can communicate “everything” insofar as it ceases to communicate to no one. Could the “untold night”, that is also the night of the “unthought”, be the site of the preservation of another use of language, of nurturing language, descending into the hymnic sources of the sayable – thus, inverting the denaturing of historical severability – a language embedded in silence, in the protofigure of the mystic, assuming “the immediacy of nature and experience, to contact of things, one by one, in their primal disorder”? [11]. Ultimately, whatever the night will tell will only be possible through and in language. 

Notes 

1. Michel De Certeau. Culture in the Plural (University of Minnesota Press, 1997), 138.

2. Ibid., 11.

3. Ibid., 7.

4. Ibid., 8.

5. Ibid., 11.

6.  Alberto Moreiras. The Exhaustion of Difference: The Politics of Latin American Cultural Studies (Duke U Press, 2001), 21. 

7. Michel De Certeau. Culture in the Plural (University of Minnesota Press, 1997), 78.

8. Ibid., 70. 

9. Michel De Certeau. Culture in the Plural (University of Minnesota Press, 1997), 100.

10. Jaime Semprún. Defensa e ilustración de la neolengua (Ediciones El Salmón, 2018). 

11. Nicola Chiaromonte. “An Age of Bad Faith”, in The Paradox of History (University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985), 148. On the hymnic dimension of human speech, see the study undertaken by Nicoletta Di Vita, Il nome e la voce. Per una filosofia dell’inno (Neri Pozza, 2022).

The pleasure of words: persuasion in Gorgias’ Encomium of Helen. by Gerardo Muñoz

In considering the reasons for Helen of Argos’ action, Gorgias’ Encomium introduces, after mentioning Chance and Necessity, the captivating force of persuasion that couples language and eros without remainder. It is nonetheless true that Gorgias is not interested in taking the role of public defender of Helen’s catastrophic actions (war itself), rather what he is after is the account of the word (logos) as a practice that can effectuate magical qualities, thus making “speech a powerful ruler…its achievements are superhuman; for it is able to stop fear and to remove sorrow, to create joy and to augment pity” [1]. The divine tonality constitutive of speech is not a matter of metaphors – even though metaphoric elevation might be in – but of  rhetorical art (technē) that triggers a somatic affection and movement when entering contact with someone else. For Gorgias, the event of speech is primordial and transformative; or, rather, it is only transformative because it can reach deep into the senses and the soul. And these are effects of creative enchantment for the human being. Not yet alienated from the mythos of nature, speech is the necessary artifice of ‘higher truth’ that is the life in persuasion. 

This is why for Gorgias there is a correlative nexus between persuasive speech and the ordering of the “mind as the ordering of drugs bears to the constitution of bodies”, which early scholars of the school of the Sophists such as Augusto Rostagni, read in light of the medical and spellbinding teaching of the philosopher-poet Empedocles, who might have been Gorgias’ teacher [2]. There is most definitely a healing dimension of the persuasive speech that compels a proximity between language and magic as the only possible – and possible because it is sayable – to access the inaccessible world of forms that Gorgias himself negates in his philosophical skepticism. (As we know, Gorgias was the author of a lost treatise of non-being of everything that Aristotles and other writers of Antiquity registered extensively). The triumph of deception for Gorgias was irreversible, a stated fact, which meant that only persuasion in speech allowed movement and seeking in the world. This is autopoetic dimension of Gorgias’ linguistic theory, which also confirms Michelsteadter’s thesis that there is no general science and ideal of language – language can only be created as much as the world in order to appropriate the ethos in life. It is no surprise, then, that a scholar like Jacqueline de Romilly has connected Gorgias’ persuasive speech to the sacred musical of orphism as a subterranean sensorial world before the rise of the legitimacy rhetorical koine of the polis. 

In other words, whereas the rhetorical order of the polis will be about the exchangeability of values through communicational units and coordination for the reproduction of social life, what is central for Gorgias, as reported by Sextus Empiricus, is that what is revealed is the usage of language as such in the exposition of the style of enunciation. Style becomes a formless reservoir of incantation and linguistic magic, which can multiple the uses while remaining neutral to a higher truth other than itself. As stated succinctly by de Romilly: “The sound of words is no longer mysterious; it no longer implies divine intervention or even produces irrational action. It is just style, and an intellectual display of skill. The only thing it appeals to is intellectual surprise, by stirring curiosity, attention, or excitement” [3]. Thus, the magical dimension of persuasive archaic speech is not suspended in the eternal polarity between truth and falsehood, but rather in the way in which reciprocity ceases to instrumentalize language to specific protorationalist ends previously crafted [4]. The “magic” of the event of speech liberates language from the fiction that there is something like an autonomous and  truth-content to ground its legitimacy. 

The persuasive texture of speech resembles a dress that must fit for every occasion of its enactment. This is why the Encomium of Helen ends with an affirmation of ‘self-amusement’ that folds the epideictic form of speech as a nourishment for the soul. The ambivalent speech can both cure and nourish, but on its other side it is also apaté or illusion in the world afterall. There is only apaté through the mediation of persuasion of the speech event, which means that any elaboration of absorbing the totality of the world through language can only further severe our distance from it. And is not at this threshold where the ethical question is inscribed? As the classicist Neus Galí asserts in a highly condensed synthesis: “In Gorgias’ thought, apaté or illusion is consubstantial with the world, allowing us to see it and communicate it” [5]. But a world vested in apraté is a non-world: it is only in language where we can move through different worlds, and persuasion is like the magical carpet or invisible cloak that allows us to zigzag between their nonexistent unfolding of our making. The impossibility of absorbing the mythos into the protorational dimension of the logos reappears in the eros of language as the remnant of enchantment that circumvents the deployment of justification, grammar, and the syllogistic mastery that soon enough will realize autonomous language as a representational science of logical proficiency. 

The persuaded speech or image – Gorgias even reaches for an ut pictura poesis mediation towards the end with an analogy about painters completing objects and forms – becomes the nonsite for those blessed souls. For Gorgias this is a supreme fiction; but one that insists on the irruption of passion in front of the ossification of what has been stabilized as a principle of reality. This is why there is a parallel between tragedy and persuasion in Gorgias’ fragmentary thought. As Plutarch records Gorgias’ words in one of his texts: “Tragedy with its myths and emotions has created a deception (apaté) such that its successful practionary is nearer to reality that the unsuccessful, and the man who lets himself be deceived is winner than he who does not …whoever has allowed himself to be deceived is wiser, for anyone not lacking in sensibility allows himself to be won by the pleasure of words” [6]. This ‘tragic transport’ enacts a “caesura in which the idea itself appears” (pure language)” [7]. It is this unfathomable and acoustic pleasure of poetic language that accounts for an exception to social exchange of  signification that will flatten speech to an uttermost decrepit and disposable utensil without passion, arousing neither celebration nor lamentation that allowed the human voice to dwell outside the chatter of the human. Or, as a twentieth century celebrated theologian writer will note in a Gorgosian tone: “For the truth is that language is not a scientific thing at all, but wholly an artistic thing… the tongue is not a reliable instrument, like a theodolite or a camera. The tongue is most truly an unruly member, as the wise saint has called it, a thing poetic and dangerous, like music or fire” [8].

Notes 

1. Gorgias. Encomium of Helen (Bristol Classical Press, 1982), 25.

2. Ibid., 29. 

3. Jacqueline De Romilly. Magic and Rhetoric in Ancient Greece (Harvard U Press, 1974), 20. 

4. Gianni Carchia. “Arte, magia, razionalità”, in La legittimazione dell’arte  (Guida, 1982), 204.

5. Neus Galí. Poesía silenciosa, pintura que habla (Acantilado, 1999), 193.

6. Plutarch. De gloria Atheniensium, Sec. 5, 351.

7. Fredrich Hölderlin. “Notes on the Oedipus”, in Essays and Letters (Penguin, 2009), 318.

8. G. K. Chesterton. G. F. Watts (Duckworth & Co, 1906), 90-91.