The Sessions of Dec. 8 and 15, 1979, are so good! All the material on writing for its own sake vs. writing a particular thing; writing as the "middle voice," the thing that you do that also shapes who you are; the desire to have finished and the disappointment that inevitably comes with finishing; the digression on idleness and not writing and wou-wei; the "little exertions that life forces upon you over the course of the most ordinary day" (!); the boredom in not writing and also in writing; writing as a monument that is flattering but also embalming and therefore must be dismantled; "I'm worth more than what I write"; "I write to be loved: by a few, but from a distance." I mean, come on! This excellent book just keeps getting better and better.
I read just the first five pages of Barthes's Session of Jan. 5th, 1980 -- as the sessions get longer, I break them up over 2-3 days so I don't feel bogged down -- and I'm smiling at the "would-be writer" idea that he takes so seriously. As he should! His writing about wanting to write is SO interesting. But we have this stereotype of the person who fantasizes about writing and says they are going to write ("I'm going to retire and write my memoirs!"), and yet they never do, and that person is a little ridiculous. Barthes is not that, of course, as he DOES write, brilliantly, but lurking behind all his complex thoughts about wanting to write, for me, is the image of the ridiculous, unrealistic dreamer. And maybe he is a little of that?
I can't help but think he's laughing at himself a little bit. Just a little bit! I think it would be easier to tell from the voice recordings.
I was also surprised when the first thing he thinks about (or rather likes to think about) when wanting-to-write is the form. The form? really? Maybe this is common. I have no idea. I tend to have an image first, or some line in my head, or something I want to say, and then I match it to a form. What about you all?
I agree that he's laughing at himself, even if just a bit -- he seems like a very serious, sincere person, but not one without a sense of humor. His lectures make me laugh sometimes, and not AT him, but WITH him, I think!
I'm not *that* kind of writer, so I can't really answer your question, but if I were to write a novel or similar, I might think of form very early on because I love thinking about form -- but, yes, wouldn't one need something to SAY first and then figure out the form for it? Or maybe one could think about those two things together?
The Sessions of Dec. 8 and 15, 1979, are so good! All the material on writing for its own sake vs. writing a particular thing; writing as the "middle voice," the thing that you do that also shapes who you are; the desire to have finished and the disappointment that inevitably comes with finishing; the digression on idleness and not writing and wou-wei; the "little exertions that life forces upon you over the course of the most ordinary day" (!); the boredom in not writing and also in writing; writing as a monument that is flattering but also embalming and therefore must be dismantled; "I'm worth more than what I write"; "I write to be loved: by a few, but from a distance." I mean, come on! This excellent book just keeps getting better and better.
I read just the first five pages of Barthes's Session of Jan. 5th, 1980 -- as the sessions get longer, I break them up over 2-3 days so I don't feel bogged down -- and I'm smiling at the "would-be writer" idea that he takes so seriously. As he should! His writing about wanting to write is SO interesting. But we have this stereotype of the person who fantasizes about writing and says they are going to write ("I'm going to retire and write my memoirs!"), and yet they never do, and that person is a little ridiculous. Barthes is not that, of course, as he DOES write, brilliantly, but lurking behind all his complex thoughts about wanting to write, for me, is the image of the ridiculous, unrealistic dreamer. And maybe he is a little of that?
I can't help but think he's laughing at himself a little bit. Just a little bit! I think it would be easier to tell from the voice recordings.
I was also surprised when the first thing he thinks about (or rather likes to think about) when wanting-to-write is the form. The form? really? Maybe this is common. I have no idea. I tend to have an image first, or some line in my head, or something I want to say, and then I match it to a form. What about you all?
I agree that he's laughing at himself, even if just a bit -- he seems like a very serious, sincere person, but not one without a sense of humor. His lectures make me laugh sometimes, and not AT him, but WITH him, I think!
I'm not *that* kind of writer, so I can't really answer your question, but if I were to write a novel or similar, I might think of form very early on because I love thinking about form -- but, yes, wouldn't one need something to SAY first and then figure out the form for it? Or maybe one could think about those two things together?
Yes! That feeling of laughing WITH him happened during A Lover's Discourse too--though that was very serious as well.
You're right. What one wants to say is very much wrapped up in how one will say it, which is the form. This is a curious one to think about.
Does anyone know what his Book/Album distinction was in the original French? I'm curious.