[On the Theory of Knowledge, Theory of Progress]

N
[On the Theory of Knowledge, Theory of Progress]
TUlle:! are more interesting than people.
-Honor~
de Balzac, CritiqUt lifth-aire, Illtroduction by Lou4 Lumc:t
(Paris. 1912), p. 103 (Cuy de la Ponnerart'. Hisll1in tk l'Amj,aJ
<AI..,)
The refoml of consciousness consists lokt, in ... the awakening of the world &om its dream about itsc:lf.
- Karl Marx. lkr hiJloriJck .J.,IQlma/WnuJ : Dit FriiW rifi(ll. (Leipzig
<1932» . vol. I, p. 226 (lener from Mane: to RuS'!; Kreuunach, Septcmba 1843)'
In the fields with which we are concerned, knowledge comes only in lightning \
fiashes. The text is the long roU of thunder that follows.
[Nl,l}
Comparison of other people's attempts to the undenaking of a sea voyage in
which the ships are drawn off course by the magnetic North Pole. Discover this
Nonh Pole. What for others are deviations are, for me, the data which determine
my course.-On the differentials of time (which, for others, disturb the main
lines of the inquiry), I base my reckoning.
[Nl ,2]
Say something about the method of composition itself: how everything onc is
thinking at a specific moment in time must at all COSts be incorporated intO the
project then at hand. Assume that the intensity of the project is thereby attested,
or that one's thoughts, from the very ~ginnillg, bear this project within them as
their tdos. So it is with the present portion of the work, which aims to characterize and to preserve the intervals of reBection, the distances lying between the
most esscntial parts of this work, which are nuned most intensively to the out·side.
[Nl ,3]
A pa~ ofBcnjamin 's mauwcript, showing th(: beginning of
Cou\"O!ute N.
1Illde.rgrowth of delusion and myth. 1b..is is to be accomplished here for the
terram of the ninetcelll.h century.
[N I ,4]
-nlcse
To cultivate fields where. until now, only madness has reigned. Forge ahead with
the whetted axe of reason, looking neither right nor left so as not to sucrumb to
the horror that beckons from deep in the primeval forest. Every ground must at
some point have been made arabic by reason, must have been cleared of the
nOles devoted to the Paris arcades were begun under an open sky of
cloudless blue that arched above the foliage ; and yet-owing to the millions of
leaves th!lt wt:re visited by the fresh breeze of diligence, the stenorous breath of
the researcher, ~le storm of youthful zeal, and the idle wind of ruriosiry-they've
been covered with the dust of centuries. For the painted sky of summer that looks
down from the arcades in the reading room of the Bibtiotheque Nationale in Paris
has sprf:ad Ollt over them its dreamy, wIlit ceiling.
[N I ,S]
TIle pamos of this work: there are no periods of decline. Altcmpt to see the
I
J
nineteenth century JUSt as positively as I tried to sce. the seventeenth, in the work
011 1TGlim pid. No belief in periods of decline. By !.he same loken, every ciry is
beautifill LO me (from outside its bordcrs),jusl as aU t.-uk of particular languages'
having greater or lesser value is
10
me unacceptable.
[N1,6)
And, later, the glassed-in spot facing m y seat at the Staatsbibliothek. C harmed
circle inviolate. virgin terrain for the soles of figures I conjured.
[N l ,7]
Pedagogic side: of this undertaking: "To educate the image-making medium
within us , raising it to a stereoscopic and dimensional seeing into the depths of
historical shadows!' The words art Rudolf Borchardt's in Fpilegomma ttl Dank,
vol. I (Berlin. 1923). pp, 56-57.
(N'.8)
Delimitation of the tendency of this project with respect to Aragon : whereas
Aragon persists within the realm of dream, here the con cern is to find the constellation of awakening. 'While in Arab'Oli there remains an impressionistic element,
namely the "mythology" (and this impressionism must be held responsible for
the many vague philosopheIlles in his book) ,~ here it is a question of the dissolu· ,
tion of "m ythology" intO the space of history. That, of course, can happen only
through lhe awakening of a not-yet-conscious knowledge of what has been.
(N1.9]
This 'work has to develop to the highest d egree the art o f citing without quotation
marks. Its theory is intimately related to that of mo ntage.
(NI, tO]
"Apart from a certain haul-golit chaml," says Giedio n, "tlle artistic draperies and
wall-hangings of the previous ce.ntury have come to se~ musty:' digfried>
Giedion, Bauen in Fra1lli.re£cn (Leipzig and Berlin <1928)). p. 3. ~, however.
believe that the ehann they exercise o n us is proof that these things, too. contain
material of vital importance for us- not indeed for our building practice, as is the
case with the constructive possibilities i.nherem in iron frameworks, but rather for
()ur understanding, for the radioscopy, if you will, of the situation of the bo~
geois elass at the moment it evinces tlle first signs of decline. In any case. matcnal
()f vital inlportance politically; this is demonstrated by the attachment of the
Surrealists to tllese things. as much as by their exploitation in contemporary
fashion. III o ther words: just as Giedion teacllcs us to read off the basic features of
today's archiu::clUre in tlle buildillb"S erected around 1850, we. in tum. would
n:i:ogn.ize lOehy's life. tOday's fo m ts, in the life and in dle apparently secondary.
lost fOnIts ofl.ha t epoch.
[Nl,l1]
''In the windswept $tallways o f the EUfel Tower, or. better still, in the st«:1 sup'"
ports o f a Pont Trarubordeur, o ne meets with the fu ndamenraJ aesthetic experience of present-day architecture: through dle dUn net of iron that hangs
suspended in the air. things stream-ships. ocean, houses, masts, landscape,
batbor. They lose their distinctive shape, swirl into o ne another as we climb
downwa:cI, merge simultaneously." Sigf~ed ?iedion, Bauen in Fra1lli.reicn (Leipzig
and Berlin), p. 7. in the same way, the histonan today has only to creCl a slender
but sturd y scaffolding-a philosophic structure-in o rder to draw the most vital
aspens o f the past into his net. But JUSt as the m agnificent vistas of the city
provided by the new construction in iron (again, see Giedion, illustrations on
pp. 61-63) for a lo~g time were ~rved exclusively for the workers and engineers, so too the philosopher who WLShes here to gamer fresh perspectives must
be someone immune to vertigo-an independent and, if need be, solitary" worker.
[N1a,1]
The book on the Baroque exposed the seventeenth century to the light of the
present day. Here, something analogous must be done for the nineteenth century,
but with greater distinctness.
[Nla,2]
Modest methodological proposal for the a.UwrnJ·rustorical dialectic. It is very
easy to establish oppositions, according to determinate points of view, within the
various "6elds" of any epoch, such that on one side lies the "productivc:," "forward-looking," "lively," "positive" part of the epoch, and on the other side the
abortive, retrograde, and obsolescent. The very contours of the positive element
will appear distinctly only insofar as this element is set ofT against the negative.
On the other hand, every negation has its value solely as background for the
delineation of the lively, the positive. It is therefore o f decisive importance that a
ne~ partition be applied to this initially excluded, negative component so that, by
a displacement of the angle of vision (but not of the criteria!), a positive element
emerges a.n~w. in it too-something different from that previously signified. And
50 on, ad infirutum, until the entire past is brought intO the present in a historical
[Nla,3)
apocatastasis.1
The.foregoing, put differently: the indestructibility of the highest life in all things.
Agamsl the prognosticators of decline. Consider, tho ugh: Isn't it an affront to
Goethe to make a film of Faust, and isn't there a world of difference between the
poem RlUSI and the film Fau.st?YI=s, CCrtainlv. But agam' isn't there a whole world
fd 'it
'
•
•
o I c.rence between a bad 6lm of Faust and a good one? What matter are never
tJu:~ "g!Tc'at " but o n Iy tI1e w
"'aleCl.1cal
' contrasts, which often seem indistinguishable
frolll nuances. It is nonetheless from them that life is always born anew.
[NJa,4)
1~ ~ncompass both Breton and Le Corbusier- that would mean dr.twing the
SPlnt of colltemponu), France like a bow, wid) which 1000wlcdge shoots the
lllOment in the h eart.
[NJa,5]
.1an lays bare the causal connection bct\\-'ttO economy and cu]ture, For us, what
malleI'S is the thread of c:xpression. It is not the economic origins of culture that
.....jJJ be presented, but the expression of the economy in its culture. At issue, in
other words, is the attempt to grasp an economic process as perceptible U,..
phenomenon, from out of which proceed all manifestations of life in the aJ'Cades
(and, accordingly. in the nineteenth century).
[Nla,6]
TIlls research-which deals fundamentally with the expressive character of the
earliest industrial products, the earliest industrial architecture, the earliest machines, but also lhe earliest department stores, advc.rtisemcnts, and so on- thus
becomes important for Marxism in two ways. Hrst, it will demonstrate how the
milieu in which Marx's doctrine arose affected that doctrine through its expressive character (which is to say, not only through causal connections) ; bUl. ~cond,
it will also show in whaL respects Marxism, tOO, shares the expressive character of
the material products contemporary with it.
[N l a,71
c5
z
Method of this project: literary montage. 1 needn't Jay aJlything. M erdy show. I
shall purloin no valuables, appropriate no inge~ous formulations. ~ ut the rags,
the refuse-these I will no t inventory but allow, m the only way poSSible, to come
intO their own: by making use of them
[Nla.81
Bear in mind lhat commentary on a reality (for it is a question here of conunentary, of interpretation in detail) calls for a method completely. ~erent &:om~
required by commentary on a text. In the one case, the soenrific mamstay 11
theology; in the other case. philology.
[N2, l1
It Illay be considered one of the methodological objectives of this work to demonstrate a historical materialism which has annihilated within itself the idea of
progress. Just here, historical materialism has every .reason to d~stinguish itSClf
sharply from bourgeois habitS of thought. Its founding concept IS not progras _
but actualization.
[N2,2]
Historical "understanding" is to be grasped, ill principle, as an afterlife of that
which is understood; and whal has been recognized in the analysis of the "afterlife of wor ks," in the analysis of "fame ," is therefore to be considered the foundatio n of hislory in generaL
[N2,3]
How this work was wrilten : ~g by rung. according as chance wou~d offer :
narrow foo thold and always Like someone who scales dangerous helghLS an
•
. di
(b~
never allows himself a moment to look around. fo r fear of becoDllng uy .
also because he would save for t.he cnd the full force of th e panorama operung
c , __)
[N' .' )
a u! to IW lI •
Overcoming the concept o f "P!"Ob'TCSs" and overcoming the concept of ~period of
decline" are tWO sides of o ne aJld the same lhing.
(N2,51
A cenrral problem of historical materialism that ought to be seen in the end: M ust
the Marxist understanding of history necessarily be acquired at the e.xpense of
the perceptibility of history? Or: in what way is it possible to conjo in a heightened grapJ.-ucnc:ss (AflJchlll~lir.hltn.'{) to !.he realization of
~arxist method? The \
first st:lge 1Il uus undertaking will be to carry over ule pnnelple of montage into
history. Illal is. to assemble large·scale consrructions out of the smallest and
most precisely cut components. Indeed, to discover in the analysis of the small
individual Illoment the crystal of !.he total event. And, therefore, to break with
wlgar historical naturalism_ To grasp the consrruction of history as such. In the
[N2,6]
structure of commentary. 0 Refuse of History
me:
a
;\ Kierkegaard citation ill Wiesengrund . with commentary fuUowing: "'One IWly
arriYflllt Il similar consider ation of the mythical hy heginni ng wilh the imagi8tic.
\t' hen. ill an age uf reflection , oue &eel the imagistic protrude ever 10 sligbdy and
II n oh ~cryed ill a rd lective representa tion and , like 1111 amedi]uvian fossil, suge81
aJl o t1l1~r s pecies uf existence which washed away tlouhl , one will perhaps be
UIlIUiIlCl1 thul the i.mage could ever ha ve pla yed such an importan t role.'
Kie rkcgaanl ward, off the 'amazement' with what follows. Yet thill amuement
heruI41s the deepest insighl iutu the iuter rdation of dia lectic, myth, and image. For
it is lIul as the conlinuowlly li ving ami pr esent dlat natu re prevails ill the dialectic.
i}iull'4:1ic cOllies 10 u stop ill the image, und , in the cOlltext of recent hinor y, it cites
tI\l' my tbical as what ii long gone: lIatu n- a8 p rimal hiJl tory. For tills re:1t801l . the
images-which . like tJI OSC of the interieur. hring dialectic and myth to the poinl of
indiIfert-ntiUlion-a re tr uly 'antediluvian fossi l,. ' They may be called dialec:tical
imugel. to UBC Benj amin 's ex p~8B i on , whose compelling defmitiol1 of ' aUe~ory'
also III)I,IB t.rue for Kie rk e~aa rd '8 aUegorical intention ta ken as II figure of histori·
CIl I llill icctic and mythical natu re. According to thiiJ definition . 'in allegor y the
"ltscrvf'r is confrlJlltl'd with tJlt~ fa eie.f hippocro tico of history, a petrified IJrimordilllla ll,llOo:n pt:. " 'l'hw d or Wiescngrund-Adorno. Kierkegoard (Tilhingen. 1933).
I)· 60.' 0 Refuse of History 0
[N2,7)
Onl)' a ulo ugtuless observer can deny that correspondences come into play
between the world of modem technology and the archaic symbol-world of mythOlogy. Of course, initially the technologically new seems nothing more than
t.h~1. But in the very next childhood memory, its traits are a\rc:ady altered. Every
clliJ~hood achieves something great aJld irreplaceable fo r humanity. By the interest It takes in techno lobrical phenomena, by the curiosity it displays before any
son or invention o r machinery, every childhood binds the accomplishments of
teclUlology to ule old worlds of symbo l. There is nothing in the realm of nature
~1;1I from the o utset would be exempt fro m such a bond . Only, it takes form not
In the aura of novelty but in the aura of the habitual. In memory, d Uld hood, and
dream , UAwakening
(N2i1, IJ
a
'111e mOmentuDl of primaJ histOry i.n the past is no lo nger masked, as it used to
be, by the tradition of ch urch and family- this at once the consequence and
condition o f technology. The old pre historic dread already envelops the world of
our parents because we ourselves an=: no longer bound to this world by tradition.
The perceptual worlds (M~r'k. wtitm) bn=ak up mon:: rapidly; what tht::y contain of
the mythic comes more quickly and more brutally to the fore; and a wholly
different perceptual world must be speedily set up to oppose it. nus is how the
accelerated tempo of technology appears in light of the primal history of the
presenL 0 Awakening 0
(N2a,2j
It's not that what is past casts its light on what is present, or what is praou its
light on what is past; rather, image is that wherein what has been comes together
in a Bash with the now (0 fonn a constellation. In other words, image is dialectics
at a standstill. For while the relation of the present to the past is a purely temporal, continuous one, the relation of what-has-been to the now is d ialectical: is not
progression hut imaSl=, suddenJy emergenl.-Only diaJectica1 images are genuine
images (that is, not archaic): and the place: where o ne cncowlters them is language. 0 Awakening 0
6
"
(N2a,3)
In studying Sin1D1e1's presentation of Goethe's concept of truth/ I came to see
very dearly that my concept of origin in the 7'raumpitl book is a rigorous and
decisivr. transposition of this basic Goethean concept from the domain of nature
to that of history. Origin- it is, in effect. the concept of Ur-phenomeno n extracted from the pagan context of nature and brought into the J ewish contexts of
history. Now, in my \\."Ork on the arcades I am equally concerned with fathoming
an origin. To be spc:ciJic, I pursue the origin of the fonus and mutations of the
Paris arcades from their beginning to their decline, and I locate this origin in the
economic fa ct5. Seen from the stand point of causality, however (and that means
considered as causes), these facts would not be primal phenomena; they become
such only insofar as in their own individual devr.lopment- "unfolding" might be:
a better term-they give: rise to the whole series of the arcade's concrete historical fonus , just as lhe leaf wUolds from itself all the riches of the empirical world
of plant:;.
(N2a,41
".A5 I stud y this age whil~h iii Sf) dullt' to us and 81) re.nltlte, I comp" re myself to •
lIurgcolloperaling with local ant!lithetic: I wurk ill urella Ihal are nllmh . tlead-yet
the "aliellt ill aljv~ a nd Cltn i tillt lllk.'· Paw Morand . 1900 (Puris. 1931 ), I'p. 6-7.
[N2a,5]
by the images thai are synchronic with il : each Mnow" is the now of a particular
recognizability. In it, truth is charged 10 the bursting point with time. (TIlls point
of explosion, and nothing else, is the death of the in/mHo, which thus coi.ncides
wilh the birth of aulhellUC historical time, the time of truth.) It is not that what is
past ca~t5 ils li~ht o n what ~ present, or what is present it5 light o n what is past;
ralher. tD1a~ 15 that where.m what has been comes together in a Bash with the
now to foml a cowldlaUon. Jn other words: image is dialectics at a standstill. For
whilc the relation of the present to the past is purdy temporal, the relation of
what.~.been t~ the . no~ is dialectical :. not temporal in nature but figural
<hildhlh>. Only dialectlcalunages an: ~numdy historical-that is, not archaicimages. The image that is read-which is to say, the image in the now of 115
recognizability-bears to the highest degrtt lhe imprint of the periJous critical
moment on which all reading is founded.
(N3, 1]
Resolute refusal of the concept of "timeless truth" is in order. Nevenhcless, truth
is not-as Marxislll would have it-a merely contingent function of knowing,
but is boWld to a nucleus of time lying hidden within the knower and the known
alike. TIils is so true that the eternal, in any case, is far more the rume on a dress
than some idea.
[N3,2]
Outline th~ story of The Arcade; Project in tem u of its development. Its properly
problemaoc component: the refusal to renounce anything that wouJd dononstrate the ~terialis, .~re.sentation of history as imagistic <bildluifb in a higher
sense than 10 the traditlonal presentation.
(N3,3]
A ronark by Ernst Bloch apropos of n~ ArtIlda Projed: "History displays its
Scotland Yard badge." It was in the COntext of a conversation in which I was
describ~g how this work-comparable, in method, to the process of splitting the
atom-~berates the enormous energies of history that arc boWld up in the "ona
upon a tIme" of classical historiography. The history that showed things "as they
really were" was the strongest narcotic of the century.
fN3,4]
"TIle truth will nOl escape us," reads o ne of KdIer's epigrams.' He thus formulates the concept of truth with which dlCSC presentations take w ue.
[N3a, IJ
"Primal history of the nineteenth century" - this would be of no interest if it were
~ndcrstood
What distinguishes images from dle "essences" of phenomenology is their historical index. (Heidegger seeks in vain to rescue history fo r phc nomeno~ogy
absttactly tlU'Ough "historicity.")' 111esc inlages arc to be thought of enurely
apart from the categories of the "human sciences," from so-called habitus, from
style, and Lhe like. For the historical index of the images not only says that they
belong to a particular tillle; it says, above all. that dley attain to legibility olll ~ at
a particular time. And. indeed, this acceding ;'to legibility" constitutes a specific.
aitical poim in the movement at their interior. Every presc.m day is dctermined
to mean that fornlS of primal history are to be recovered among the
tnvCntory
of
the
,c
h
b
. ru'n,
c cenUI
centu ry. Onl y were
the nineteenth cenwry would
C 'presented as originary fon n of primal history- in a form, that is to say. in
of prun
' aJ Iusto!")'
'
.
,
which lhc whole
.
groups ,Its elf anew .
Ul unages appropnate to
that CClltury-only there docs the concept of a primal history of the nineteenth
centu ha
.
ry vc mcarung.
[N3a.2)
Is a\Vak'
h.c
.
.
e~g pcr aps UIC SynthesiS of dream consciousness (as thesis) and waktng COWaou.mess (as anril.hesis)? Then the Illoment of awakening would be
identicaJ with thr: "now of recognizability," in which things put on their trur:suntalist-face. Thus. in Proust. the imponance of Staking an entire life On life's
suprcrur:ly dialr:ctical point of rupture: awakening. Proust begins with an r:voca..
tion of thr: space: of somr:orx: waking up.
[N3a.3]
"If J insist on this mr:chanism of contradiction in the biography of a writer . . . , it
is because his train of thought cannot bypass certain facLS which ba~ a logic.
diffc.rc:nt from that of his thought by itself. It is becawt= there is no idea he adhen:.s
to that truly holds up ... in the face: of certain ~ry simple, elemental facts : that
Vt'Orkers are staring down t:bt. bam:1s of cannons aimed at them by police, that
war is threatening, and that fascism is already enthroned.. . . It bdlooycs a man,
for the sake of his dignity, to submit his ideas to thae faw, and not to bend thesr:
faw, by some conjuring trick. to his Kfeas, bowcva ingenious." Aragon. "D'AI·
fred de Vigny " Avdeenko," Commune. 2 (April 20. 1935), pp. 808-809. But it is
entirely possiblr: that, in contradicting my past, I will establish a continuity with
that of another, which he in rum, as communist. will contradict. In this case. with
the past of Louis Aragon, who in this same essay disavows his POYJon rk Paris:
"And, like most of my friends , I was partial to the failures, to what is monstrous
and cannot s urvi~, cannot succeed .... I was likr: them: I preferred eITOr to its
opposite" (p. 807).
[N3a.4]
In the diaJectical image, what has been within a particular r:poch is always,
simultaneously, "what has been &om time immr:morial." A3 such, however, it is
manifest, on each occasion, on1y to a quite specific epoch-namely. dle one in
which humanity, rubbing irs eyes, recognizes just this particular dream image as
such. It is at this moment that the historian takes up. \ol,'ith regard to that image,
the talk of dream interpretation.
[NUl
The expression " the book of nature" indicateS that one can read the rea1like a
text. And that is how the reality of the ninetemth cenrury will be treated here. W:
open the book. of what happened.
(N'.21
JUSt as Proust begins the story of his life \vi.th an awakening, so must ~
presentation of history begin with awakening; in fact, it should t:reat of nothing
e1se. 11Us one, accordingly, deals with awakening from the nineteenth century.
IN"')
111e realization of dream elements in the course of waking u p is the calion of
dialeCllcs. 1t is paradigmatic for the thinker and binding for the histolian. [NolA)
Raphael seck! to correct the Marxist conception of the normative char3cter of
Creek art : ''If the normative: character of Greek art is ... an explicable fact of
history, ... we will havt • , . to detemline ... what special conditions led to each
renascence and, in consequence:, what special factors of ... Greek art these
renascen~ adopted as model". For the totality of Greek art never posscssed a
normative chal<lcter: the renascences ... have their own proper history.... On1y
a historical analysis can indicate the el<l in which the abstract notion of a 'nonn'
. .. of antiquity was bam.... This notion was crc::ated solei)' by the Rr:nais·
sance-that is. by primitive capitalism-and subsequently taken up by classicism.
which ... colTltnCnccd to assign it its place: in a historical sequence. Marx has not
advanced along this way in the full meouure of the possibilities of historica1
materialism." Max Raphael. Proudhon. Mane, Picasso rParis (1933» , pp. 178-179.
'.5)
It is tbr: pc:culia.rity of IcdJnolDgital forms of production (as opposed to an forms)
that their pn>gras and their success an= proportionate to the "tJllJparrnq of their
[N4,61
social content. (Hence glass arr.hitecturt:,)
An important passage in Marx : Mit is recogniz~d that where ... the epic, for
e.'UllJlple• ... is concerned ... . certain signi6cant creations within the compass of
art are possible on1y at an early stage of artistic development. If this is the case
with regard to differem branches of art within the sphert: of the arts, it is not so
remarkable that this should also be the case with regard to the whole artistic
realm and its relation to the general developmem of the society:" Cited without
references (perhaps 1heorien deJ Mtlm«rJJ, vol. 1?)' in M ax Raphael, Proudhon,
MO"-J PiCOJJo (Paris (1933»), p. 160.
[N4a. I)
The Mar.<ian theory of art: one momr:nt swaggering, and the. next scholastic.
[N4a,2]
ProlKllal for a gradatiun of the I upt'nlructui"t. in A. Asturaro, II mareriolumo
Itorico e In lociowsin 8ene,.o/e (Cenoa, 1904) (reviewed by Erwin 511aOO in Die
neue Mit, 23. no. I [ tUIl!l;l1rt] . fl . 62): " Economy. Family and kinship. Law. War.
Politic,. Mt)rality. Religion . Art . Stif'oce."
[N4a,3)
Strange n=mark by Engels conce:ming th~ "sociaJ forces": " But when once: their
nature is Wlderstood, they can, in the hands of the producers \\'Orking together,
bl: transformed from mas ter demons imo willing servants." (I) Engds, Die
Entw;(A/ung deJ SolialirmuJ IN1I dtr Utop;,. lur WW(7lJcwifl (1882).'
[N4:l,4]
.\IlIr:o.: . in t h~ uflcrwMl1 I() the l!ccond .'dhiull uf DIU K/lpiwl: " Research hal 10
ul'pr,.,pria tc the mlllcl'in1 ill d,'l uil . 10) 1lll ll lyzI' it Hvpr i O Il ~ f(ll'lnll of development . to
trn ('" uU! Illei r illlwr 1'lI l1 nef·til'l n . Oul )' Iffll' r th iij work i8 (lone call 1111' IIc tll aJ
hJuI'f~nl'nt 1w I'r" '''' llt ~1 1 ill ('''''''''Sp'llil linl' fUlIili"ll . If this i ~ do ne SU(!ccssrully. ir the
lir,. uf thr· mat.eria l ill rf' fl l'l·h ·d bu ck lIiI itl~'1I1 . tlu' " it IIHly 111'I)I'lir as ir wt! Iflu l hefort!
II~ It" II I)riuri con ~ lrlll'li"n .'· Kllr1 Mllrx. n/J.~ KIJpj" d. vol I, ed . Korsch (Berlin
~ IIJ3:h ); p . 45 . III
[Nola..5)
The partirular difficuJty of doing historical research on the period following
the close of the eighteenth century will be displayed. With the rise of the mass.
circulation press., the sources become irulUmerable.
[N4a,6]
holds ror law and religion holds for culture even more. It would be absurd for US
to conceive of the classless society, its fonDS of existence, in the image of cuJtu.ra.I
humanity.
[N5,4)
Mjcheici is Ik.rfectl y willing to lei the people be knowll as " barbariQlIs." "; Bar.
burioIl8.' I like the word . and I accept the term ." And he says of their wrilers:
"Their IOl'e is boundless ami 80metimcll too grea l, for they may d evole Ihcmselve8
to details wilh Ihe delightfulawkwardne!l!l of Albrecht DUrer, or with the exceuive
,)olisia of J ean-J acques Rousseou , who d0e8 llol concea.l his a rt ellough; and b y thU
minute deLaii they compromi8e.th e whole. We. musl nOI hlame them 100 mu.;h . It La
... the luxuriance of their u p allil vigor.. , . Thi8 8ap wanll to give ever ything at
once--Ieaveil . fruit. and flowe u; il bend8 nnd twislI the hranches. Tbese defeell of
many grt:al workeu arc of len found in my books, which laek their good qualitie8.
[N5,1)
No matter!" J . M..icheJet , Le PeufJle (Paris. 1846) , pp. xxxvi-xxxvii. It
" Our eI~t' l itl" r ry must he: f{t'form of cO IISeiOIl Mf'~8 11(\1 til rough dogma!!. hut
tllr fl ll~h Ihe u"alysid of mrSlkA I ~tJlI lIdotl 8 'h~lf~ thnl i ll llll cl~u r to illidf. whether it
IIppi'uri ill II religious or II )lulitil-lI 1 form . Then l"H!o ple will $ee tha i the wO!·ld haa
IUllg pOB!;essed Ihe (Ircam !If II thing- and lhlll it olil y lI l'ed~ 10 po;;~CIIs Ihe consd U\l ~ lleU of Ihili lhin(; ill ortll'r n 'all y Itl lJ08seu it :' Karl Marx. Der hiuoruche
M(J,crifl/i~mlls : Die FriihscllrijlCJI . ed . LundshUI 1tllilMayer (Leipzig ( 1932» ). \'01.
I. PI" 22(.....227 (Iettt·r from Ma rx 10 Ru ge; Krellzenuch . Septemb er 1843). It
Lener from Wiesengrund of August 5, 1935 : "The attempt to reconcile your
'dream' momentum-as the subjective element in the dialectical image-with the:
conception of the latter as model has led me to some formulations . .. : With the
vitiation of their use value, the alienated things are hollowed out and, as ciphers,
they draw in meanings. Subjectivity takes possession of them insofar as it invests
them with intentions of desire and fear. And insofar as defunct things stand in as
images of subjective intentions, these latter present themsdves as immemorial
and eternal. Dialectical images are canstellated between alienated things and
incoming and disappearing meaning, are instantiated in the moment of indiffel\
cnce
between death and meaning. While things in appearance are awakened to
\
what is newest, death transforms the meanings to what is most ancient." Wtth
regard to these reSections, it should be kept in mind that, in the nineteenth
century, the number of "hollowed-out ~ things increases at a rate and on a scale
that was previously unknown, for technica.l progress is continually withdrawing
newly introduced objects from circulation.
[N5.2J
"The critic can start from any form of theoretical or practical consciousness, and
develop out of the actual forms of existing reality the true reality as what it ouglu
to be, that which is its aim." Karl Marx, Dn' hiJlorische MaterialiJmUJ: Die Friill·
Jchnjlen, ed. Landshut and Mayer {Lcipzig (1932» , vol. 1, p. 225 Oetter &om
Marx to Ruge; Kreuzenach, September 1843).'1The point of departure invoked
here by Marx need not nece.ssari.ly connect with the latest stage of development.
It can be undertaken with regard to long·vanished epochs whose "ought to be"
and whose aim is then to be presented-not in reference to the next stage of
development, but in its own right and as prefonnation of the fin al goal of history.
[N5.3]
[N5a,l )
,
A reconciled humanity will take leave of its past-and olle fonn of reconciliation
is gaiety. "The present German regime .... the nullity of the ancien rtgime
exhibitc:d for all the world to set, ... is only the comedian of a world order whose
r~al hfflJeJ are dead. History is thorough, and passes through many stages when
she carries a worn-out fonn to burial. The last stage of a world-historical form is
its comedy. The gods of Greece, who had already been mortally wounded in the
Prornelheu..s BOI/Tld of Aeschylus, had to die yet again-this time a comic death-in
the dialogues of Lucian. Why does history follow this course? So that mankind
may take leaVl: of its past gaily.tI Karl Marx, Du hiI/orisck Ma/crialiImUJ: au
FrUMchnjlat, ed. Landshut and Mayer (Leipzig), vol. 1, pp. 268 ("Zur Kritik der
Hegelschen RechlJphilfJSophie").ll Surrealism is the death of the nineteenth century
in comedy.
[N5a,2]
~b rx (MtlrX lind
Engeb iiber F'ellerbacll : Aus dem Nach/rlu, Marx· Euge.la Archil',
vol. I [Fra nkfurl tUIl Main ( 1928)] , p . 30 1): '"Therl'" is no history ofpolitic8. law.
.IIcience., t'" tc., of art , religion. e l c:'I~
[N5a,3]
Die heilige fo·umilit'. on thl'" s ubject uf Bacon's materialis m: " Matter, s urrounded
by a S(' 1l8U OU a I'IJt!tic gillmur, SI'elllS 10 IIltraCI man 's wlltlle elllilY wilh winning
Iihliles:' 11
[N5aAJ
" 1 regret ha,·ing Ireatc(1 in only 1.1 \'er y illcom pletr ma nlier those facts of dail y
t'Xisleno:e--foo!l, ciOlbing, s hch('r, family roulin e~. eivil law. ~' rl: a li on , social
....lutiOIl:!--·witirh IUlve nlwa ys lJL'C1I of prime COllce ru ill Iht" lift: of II.... grea l majorit y uf illllh·icluill~." C hal·Il'~ SeignoiJoil. lJ;stoire sincere de In 1I (I,iim /rfllu;tJ;se
I Pll r i~. '1933). " . xi.
[N5a.51
Ad notam a fornlula ofVaUry 's: "What distinguishes a truly general phenomeis its fertili ty.~ "
[N5a,6]
11011
Engels says (Marx und ETlgelJ ii!Mr m erhoch: AUJ tb:m Ntuhla.u, Marx·Engels
Archiv, ed. Rjazanov, vol. 1 [Frankfurt am Main (1928~ I, p. 300): "Il must not be
forgotten that law has just as liltle an independent history as rcligion."ll What
Barbarism lurks in the ver)" concept of cultUl"t"!- as the concept of a fund of values
which is coll..~idered indepcndem not, indeed, of lhe production process in which
these vruues originated, but of the one in which they survive. In this way they
serve the apotheosis of the latter ("'"Oro uncertain>, barbaric as it may be.
(N5a,7]
To determine how the concept of culture arose, what meaning it has had in
different periods, and what nec:ds its instirution corresponded to. It could, insofar
as it signifies the sum of;jcultural riches," tum o ut to be of recent origin ; certainly
it is not yet found , for example, in the cleric of the early Middle Ages who waged
his war of annihilation again..! the teachings of antiquity.
[N6, 1]
MicheJet-an aulhor who, wherever he is quOted, makes the reader forget the
book in which the quotation appears.
[N6.2]
To be wlderlined: the painstaking delineation of the scene in the first writings on
socia] problems and charity, like Naville, De fa Charitlligale; Fregier, Da Claues
do.ngereuses; and various others.
(N6.3)
" I callnot imillt too 8trongly on the facl that , for an enlightened nlateriolisl like.
Larorgue, economio dcterminillm iK1I0t the ' absolutely perfeci illKlruDlCllt' which
'can provide the key to aU the problems of his tory. ' " An~l re DrctolJ. PosiluJII
poUtique du sUrri!ali.sme (Paris <1935» , Pl'. 8-9.
[N6,4)
All historical knowledge can be represented in the image of balanced scales, one
tray of which is weighted with what has been and the other with knowledge of
what is present. Whereas on the first the facts assembled can never be too
hwnble or too numerous, on the second there can be oruy a few heavy, massive
,vcigln..
[N6,5]
"'The only Ilttitudl! worthy or philoso phy . .. in the indus trial era is ... restrain t.
The '8Cientilicily' of a Marx ~ loe8 nol mean t hat philosoph y renOUDce8 ill ta,k ... ;
rather. it indicatel lhat philosOI>hy hoMs itself in reserve \llllil illt' predominance
or an unworthy reality is broken ." Hugo F'iseher. Kurt Mun. ulld seill VerhjjJt,. ...
:z;u Staat ulld Wiruchuft (Jella , 1932), p. 59,
[N6.6)
It is not without significance that Engels, in the context of the materialist conception of history, lays emphasis on classicality. For the dcmoDl;tration of the dialectic of development, he refers to laws "which the actual historical process itsdf
provides, insofar as every momentum can be conside.red to be at the point of its
full ripening, its classical.ity." Cited in Gustav Mayer, Fn·edn"cn Ellgelr, vol. 2,
Engrls uud der Atifstieg der Arbeirtrbewegung III Europa (Berlin (1933»), pp. 434-
435.
IN'.1]
Engels in a leiter to) /'tI..,hrinl;. july 14. 1893: " It i§ IIho\·t> a ll this IItD.hIHUN' of an
independent history of st a t e cU li s tihII.iOIl ~ . of liy&11'1'lU of law, of i~ l t'olu,;il·a ll·o n cl'p·
liunl in every 5epU rall! Ilomain. thaI daulOi mOill people. If Luther II IltI Calvin
'o,·ercome' the offi cial Calholir. religioll , or Uegcl 'overcomell' Fichte and Kanl , or
Rousseau with his ro·JlllhLicall Curll r(lf ,oci(ll ilJllirt:clly 'ovcrl:omt:s' the conslilu.
tional Montes«lIitlu . this il a prm:eu which rf'mailll! within theology, philosophy.
or political sciellce. represt:uts II stllgc in the hi~lo ry of these part.iClllar spheres of
tllOUgll1 and nevr.r paues beyoud tJu~ 8pl1l:re of thought. And since the bourgeois
illu.siull of the eternity a ll(1 fi nality or cQ pitalill1 protlucliou lin been added to this,
(,l·ell Iht' o,·ercoming of till' mf'rcantilists hy the phy, iocrats and Adam Smith is
rt'gnrded as a II heer victor y of Ihought; nut as the reflection in thought or changed
t'I·llntlmi(' fa el.il, bUI u the finoU y achie",!d correcl unders ta nding or ac tual contlition~ 5ubsisting alway, onel everyw here. "I. Cited in Gustav 1'!fayer, Friedrich
Engel.s. vol. 2 , Engels lind der All/sties der- ArbeiterbewegunS in Europa (Berlin),
PII . MjO-"5L
[N6a.l)
" What Schlosser couJd say in response 10 Ihe8e r eproaches [ur peevillb moral
rigor J. aud what he 1l10ulil lIay. is thi,: that IU810ry and life in general. unlike
nOl'els allli stories, do 1I0t teMch a lell80IJ of s uperficial j oit' de vivre, even to the
happily eonstituted spirit and senses ; that the contemplation or history is more
likely 1.0 inilpirtl. if nOI contempt ror humanity, then Ii ~ omber vision or the world
alld strict prind plt'li for Living; that, at leas t on Ihe very greatest judges or the
world and huma nkind , on men who knew how tel measure outward affairs by their
OWII inlier life. 011 II ShakeBpelire. Dante. or MaehiaveUi, the way of the world
always IIlacie the 6"rt or inlpreu ion lhat conduces to seriousness and Heverity."
G, G. Cervin"s , Friedrich CI,r-utoph Sch loJler(Leipzig. 1861), in Deut.sehe Denhr-eden, ed. Rud olf Borchardt (Munich. 1925). ,). 312.
[N6a,2]
The relation of tradition to the technology of reproduction deserves to be stud·
ied. "Traditions ... re.late to written communications, in general, as reproduction
of the latter by pen relates to reproduction by the press, as successive copies of a
book relate to its simultaneow printings." Carl Gustav Jochmann, Ueb~ die
Sprack (Heidelberg, 1828). pp. 259-260 ("Die Riioochritte der Poesie")."
[N6.,3]
Roger Caillois, ;jParis, my the modeme" (Nouvelle Revue jra1l{aiJe, 25, no, 284
[May 1, 1937], p. 699), gives a list of the investigations that one would have to
undertake in order [0 illuminate the subject further. (1) Descriptions of Paris that
antedate the nineteenth tenruey (Marivaux, Restif de La Bretonne); (2) the strug·
gle between Girondists andJacobins over the relation of Paris to the provinces;
the legend of the days of revolution in Paris: (3) secret police under the Empire
an~ the Restoration; (4) ptillture InQr-ale of Paris in Hugo, Balzac, Baudelaire; (5)
obJecti~e descriptions of the city: Dulaurc. Du Camp; (6) Vigny, Hugo (Paris
aflame m L'Annel' ttm·b1t). Rimbaud,
[N7.1)
~lill to be established is t.he corutection between presence of mind and the
rncthod" of dialectical materialism. It's not just thai one t.vill always be able to
detcct a dialectical process in presence of miud, regarded as o ne of the highest
fomu of appropriate behavior. 'What is even more decisive is that the dialectician
cannot look o n history as anything other than a constellation of dangers which
he is always, as he follows its development in his thought, on the point of
avening.
[N7,2j
8
[N7a,3]
111e reception of great, much admired works of art is an ad plum ire_rJ
[N7a,4)
-me materialist presentation of history leads the past to bring the present into a
tlrll mll l)er h ll p ~ nlore thlln II history. lind itil pathos ill II I:fllldition
at imperious 11 8 its authenticity!' 81aDllui , cited in Geffroy,
'Enferme (Pari.,
1926). vol. I, p, 232.
[N7.3]
" I{evolutioll is
Telescoping of the past through the present.
crirical state.
'j
[N7a.5)
withswld what Vale.ry calls "a reading slOWed by and
bristling \Vim the resisWICCS of a refined and fastidious reader." Charles Baudelaire. U J Flam dll mai, Introduction by Paul Valery (Paris. 1928), p. xiii,u
[N7<l,6J
It is my intention
Necessity of paying heed over many years to every casua1 citation, every Setting
mention of a book..
[N7,4]
To contraSt the theory of history with the observation by Grillparzer which
EdrnondJaJoux traIUlates in ':Journaux intimes" (Le 7'emPJ, May 23 , 1937): "To
read into the future is difficult, but to see purely into the past is more difficult still.
I say purely, that is, without involving in this retTospective glance anything that
has taken place in the meantime." The "purity" of the gaze is not JUSt difficult but
impossible to attain.
[N7,5]
(0
My thinking is related to theology as blotting pad is related to ink. It is saturated
wim ~t. ,,*re one to go by the blotter, however, nothing of what is written would
remam.
(N7a,7)
,
It is the present that polarizes the event into fore- and after-history_
[N7a.8]
diaJectically presen~d historical circumstance polarizes itself and becomes a force
field in which the confrontation between its fore-history and after-history is
played out.. It becomes such a field insofar as the present instant in~rpenea-ateS it..
<See N7a, 8.) And thus the historical evidalce polarizes into fore- and after-history always anew, never in the same way. And it does so at a distance from its
own existence, in the present instant itself-like a line which, divided according
to the Apollonian section,lJ experiences its partition from outside itself. (N7a.1]
On the question of the incompleteness of history, H orkheinler's letter of March
16, 1937: "The determination of incompleteness is idealistic if completeness is
nOI comprised within it. Past injustice has occumd and is completed. The slain
are really slain.... If one takes the lack of closure entirely seriously, one must
believe in the LastJudgment ... . Perhaps, with regard to incorupletale5S, there is
a difference between the positive and the negative, so that only the injustice, the
horror. the sufferings of me past are irrqxtrable. The justice practiced, the joys.
the v.'Orks, have a different relation to time, for their positive charaaer is largdy
negated by the transience of things. This holds firSt and foremost for individual
existence, in which it is not the happi.ness bUI the unhappiness that is sealed by
death." The corrective to this line of thinking may be found in the consideration
[hat history is not simply a scialce but also and not least a fonn of remembranct
(~ingerkn km>. What science has "determined," remembrance can modify. Such
mmdfulness can make the incomplete (happiness) into something complete, and
the complete (suffering) into something incomplete. That is theology; but in
remembrance we have an experience thai forbids us to conceive of history as
fundamentally atheological, little as it may be granted us to try to write it with
immediately ~eological concepts.
[Na.l ]
Historical materialism aspires to neither a homogeneous nor a continuous eJ(~
sition of history. From the fact that the supersO'Ucture reacts upon the base, It
follows that a homogeneous history, say, of economics exists as little as a homoge'
neous history of literature or of jurisprudence, On the other hand , since the
clifferent epochs of the past are not all touched in the same degree by the present
day of the historian (and often the recent past is not touched at all; the present
fails to "do it justice"), continuity in the presentation of history is unattainable.
[N7a,2]
The unequivocally regressive function which the doctrine of archaic images has
fOr Jung comes to light in the following passage fTOm the essay "Ober die Beziehungen der analytischen Psychologie zum dichterisdlcn KUIlSrwerk": "The creative p rocess ... consists in an unconscious activation of the archetype and in an
... e1a~or:ation of this original image into the finished work. By giving it shape,
the arnst m so~e. measurc translates this image into the language of the prescn,t. . .. The.~ lies the ~.cial signiJicOlncc of art : ... it conjures up the fornu in
which the Zeitb'ClSt, the Splnt of the age. is most lacking. The unsatisfied yeaming
It is important for dIe materialist historian. in the most rigorous way possible, to
differentiate the construction of a historical state of affairs from what onc customarily calls its " reconstruction ," The "reconstruction" in empathy is one-elimensional. "Corutruction" presupposes "destruction."
[N7,6j
\
In order for a part of the past to be touched by the present instant <AMllaiitat>,
there must be no continuity between them.
(N7.7]
The fore- and after-history of a historical phenomenon show up in the pbalome·
non itself on the strength of its dialectical presentation. What is more: every
,•
of the artist reaches back to the primordial image in the unconscious which is best
fitted to compensate the ... one-sidedness of the spirit of the age. This image his
longing seizes Oll , and as he ... brings it to consciousness, the inlage changes its
fonn until it can be acccpted by the minds of his contemporaries , according to
their powers!' C. G. Jung, &e1~prohleme du Gegenwart (ZUrich, Leipug, and
Stuttgart. 1932), p. 71.2~ Thus, the esoteric theory of art comes down to making
arche types "accessible" to the "Zeitgeis[."
{N8,2]
InJung's production there is a belated and particu1arly emphatic claboration of
one of the dements which, as we can recognize today, were first di.sclosed in
explosive fashion by Expressionism. That dement is a specifically clinical nihilism, such as one encounters also in the: works of Berm, and which has found a
camp followc:r in CCline. TIlls nihilism is born of the shock imparted by the
interior of the body to those who bUt it. Jung b.irosdf traces the heightened
interest in psychic life back to Expressionism. H e writes: "Art has ~ w.ay of
anticipating future changes in man's fundamental outlook, and expresSlOrust an
has taken this subjective tum well in advance of the more general change." See
Seelenprobleme der Gegenwart (ZUrich, Lcipug, and Stuttgart, 1932), p. 415"Das Seelenproblem des modemen Menschen ").~ In this regard, we sho~d ~ot
lose sight of the relations which Lukacs has established between Expresslonum
and Fascism. (See also K7a,4.)
[N8a,I}
"Tradition, erranl fable one coUecllI, I I.nlermittenl liS the wind in the leave. ...
Victor Hugo. La Fin de Soton (Paris. 1886). p. 235.
{NSa,2)...
Julien Benda, in Un Rigulier daTU Ie si},k , cites a phrase from Fuste1 de Cou·
Ianges: "lfyou want to relive an epoch, forget that you know what has come after
it." 1ba.t is the secret Magna Charta for the presentation of history by the
Historical School, and it carries linle conviction when Benda adds : "Fustd n~
said that these measures were valid for Wlderstanding the role of an epoch m
history."
{NSa,3]
..
f
Pursue the question of whether a connea:ion existS between the secuIanzaFlOn 0
time in space and the allegorical mode of perception. The former, at any rate (as
becomes clear in Blanqui's last writing), is hidden in the "worldview of ~e
nannai sciences" of the second half of the cenrury. (Secu1ariz.ation of history in
{N8a,4]
Heidcgger.)16
Goethe saw it corning: the crisis in bourgeois education. He confronts it in
Wilhelm Meister. H e characterizes it in his correspondence with Zeiter.
[N8a.5}
Wtlhclm von Humboldt shifts the center of gravity to languages ; Marx an~
Engels shift it to the natura! sciences. But the study of languages has cronolluc
functions, too. It comes up against global economics! as the study of natural
sciences comes up against the production process.
IN9. I]
Scienti6c method is distinguished by the fact that, in leading to new objects, it
develops ncw methods. JUSt as fornl in art is distinguished by the fact that,
opening up new contents, it develops new forms . h is only from 'Nithout that a
work. of art has one and dilly onc fonn. that a treatise has one and only one
method.
(N9,2]
On the concept of " rescue M: the wind of the absolute in the sails of the concept.
(The principle of the wind is the cyclical.) The trim of the sails is the relative.
IN',3}
Whar are phenomena rescued from? Not only. and not in the main, from the
discredit and neglect into which they have fall en , but from the catastrophe represented vcry often by a certain strain in their dissemination, their "enshrinement
as heritage."- TIley are saved through the exhibition of the fissure within
them.- There is a tradition that is catastrophe.
[N9,4]
It is the inherent tendency of dialectical experien ce to dissipate the semblance of
eternal sameness, and evcll of repetition. in history. Authentic political experience is absolutely free of this semblance.
(N9,5]
What matters for tile dialectician is to have the ,'lind of world history in his sails.
Thinking means for him: setting the sails. What is imponam is how they an:: set.
\-\bIds are his sails. The way they arc set makes them into concepts.
fN9,6]
The dialectical image is an image that cmerges suddenly. in a Bash. "What has
been is to be held fast- as an image Bashing up in the now of its recognizability.
The resOle that is carried out by these Dlearul-and only by these-can operate
soldy for the sake of what in the next moment is already irretrievably lost. In this
connection, see the metaphorical passa~ from my introduction to J ochmann,
, concerning the- prophetic gaze that catches fire from the summits of the past.'P
[N' ,7}
Being a dialectician means having the wind of history in one's sails. The sails arc
the concepts. It is not enough. howNer. to have sails at onc='s disposal. What is
decisive is knowing UI(: art of setting them.
[N9,8]
~e concept of Pl'Ob'TCSS must be b'TOunded in ule idea of catastrophe. 11lat
tlungs are "status quo" is thc Cata5lrophe. It is nOI an ever-present possibility but
what in cach case is briven. Thus Su-indbcrg (in 10 Dama.fCus?) :1. hell is not
something that awaits us, but this life here and now.
[N9a.1 I
It is good to give materialist investigations a truncated ending.
(N9a,2]
10 the process of resale belongs (he finu. scemingly brutal grasp.
(N9a.3]
The dialectical image is that fonn of the historical object which satisfies Goethe's
requirements for the object of analysis: to exhibit a genuine synthesis. It is the
primal phenomcnon of history.
[N9a.4]
The enshrinement or apologia is meant to cover up the revolutionary moments
in the OCCUITena=: of history. At heart, it seeks the establislullCIU of a continuity. It
sets store only by those dements of a work that have already emer ged and played
a part in its reception. The places where tradition breaks off-hence its peaks and
crags, which offer footing to one who wouid cross over them- it misses.
[N9a,51
If thc object of history is to be blasted
O llt of the continuum of historica1 succcs+
sion, that is because its mo nad ological structure demands it. ~nUs structure first
comes to light in the extracted object it.~d f. And it does so in thc fonn of the
bistOI;cal confi'Ollmtion that makcs lip the interior (and, as it were, the bawds) of
the historica1 objecr. and into which all the forces and interests ofhisLOry enter on
a reduced scale. It is owiog to this monadologica1 structure that the historical
object fin ds represented in its interior its own fore·history and after-history.
(Thus, for example, the fore·history of Baudelaire, as educed by current scholarship. resides in allegory: his after-history, inJugendstil.)
(N 1O,3]
FomUng the b.'lSis of tl1e confrontation ·with conventional historiography and
Historica1 materialism must renouncc the epic element in history. It blasts thc
epoch out of the reified "continuity of history." But it also cxplodes the homogeneity of the epoch, interspersing it with ruins-that is, with r.he prescnt. [N9a,6]
In every true work of art there is a place where, for o ne who removes there, it
blows cool like the wind of a coming dawn. From this it follows that art, which
has often been considered refractory to every relation with progress, can provide
its true definition. Progress has its seat nOl in the continuity of elapsing time but
in its interferences- where the truly new makes itself felt for the first time, with
the sobriety of dawn.
[N9a,7]
Fbr the materialist histo rian, cvery epoch with whid1 he occupies himself is only
prehistory for the epoch he himself must live in. And so, for him, thcre can be no
appearance of repetition in history, sina=: precisely those moments in the. course
of history which matter most to him, by virtue of their indu as "fore-history,"
becomc moments of the present day and change their specific character according to the catastrophic or triumphant nature of that day.
[N9a,8]
Scientific progress-like historical progress-is in each instance merely the first _
step, never the second, third, or n + l -supposing that these latter cver belonged
not just to the workshop of science but to its corpus. That, however, is not in faa
the case; for every stage in the dialectical process (like every stage in the process
of history itself), conditioned as it always is by evcry stagc preceding, brings intO
play a fundamentally ncw tendency, which necessitates a fundamentally new
treatment. The dialectical mcthod is thus distinguished by the fact that, ill leading
to new objects, it develops new methods, just as fo nn in art is distinguished by
the fact that it .develops new fo rms in delineating ncw contents. It is on.ly from
without that a work of art has onc and ()1/1y o ne fonn, that a dialcctical r:reatise has
onc and only one method.
(N t O, I]
Definitions of basic historica1 concepts: Catastrophe-to have missed the oppar·
[Unity. Oritical moment-the staws quo threatens to be preserved. Pl"Ob'TCSS-the
first revolutionary measure taken.
(N I0.2]
~eusluinemen t" is thc polemic against empathy (Grillparzer, Fuslel de Cou-
langes).
[NtO,",]
The Saint-Simonian Barrault distinguishes between ipoqur.r IJrgallique.r and ipoqun ",·liqurs. (Sec U15a,4.> The derogation of the critica1 spirit begins direct1y
[Nl O,S]
after the victory of the bourgeoisie in the Ju1y Revolution.
The destructive or critica1 momentum of matCl;alist historiography is registered
in that blasting of historical continuity with which the historical objea first constiruces itsclf. In fact, an object of history cannot be targeted at all within the
continuous elapsc of history. And so, from time immemorial, historica1 narration
has simply pickcd out an object from this continuous succession. But it has done
so I-VithOut foundation, as an expedient; and its first thought was then always to
reinsert thc object into the continuum, which it would create ane\V through
empathy. Materialist historiography docs nOI choose its objects arbitrarily. It
does not fastcn on thcm but rather springs them loose from thc order of succes·
sion. Its provisions arc more extensive, its occurrences more essential. [N IOa,l]
[ForI the destructive mo mentum in materialist historiography is to bc conceived
as the reaction to a constellation of dangers, which threatens both the burden of
tradition and those who receive it. It is this constcllation of dangers which the
materialist presentation of history comcs to engage. In this constellation is comprised its actuality; against its threat, it must prove its presence of mind. Such a
presentation of history has as goal to pass, as Engels puts it, ';beyond dle sphere
of thought."19
[NIOa.2]
10 thinking belongs the movement as well as the arrest of thoughts. Where
thinkillg comes to a standstiU in a constellation samrated \"';111 tensions-there
the dialcctica1 image appears. It is the caesura in the movement of thought. Its
Position is naturally not an arbitrary o nc. IL is to be fOWld . in a word. where thc
tensio n between dialectical opposites is greatest. H ence, tl1C object constrtlcLCd in
~c materialist presentatioll of hi.~tory i.~ itself the dialectical Ullage. TIle latter is
1?entical witll the historical object: it justifies its violent expulsion from tl1C conIJ.nuum of historical process.
fN 1Oa,3]
TIle archaic form of primal history, which has been summoned up in every
epoch and now onC( more by Jung, is that" form which .makes semblance in
history still more delusive b)' mandating nature as its homdand.
[Nil , I}
-10 write history means giving dates therr physiognomy.
(N 1l.2]
'Ole evolts sWTOtlllding the historian. and in which he himself takes pan. will
underlie his presentation in the fonn of a leXt written in invisible ink. The history
which he lays before lhe reader comprises, as it were, the citations occurring in
tlus text. and it is only these citations that occur in a manner legible to all, To
write history thus means to citl! history. It belongs to the concept of citation,
however. that the historical object in each case is tom from its COntext.
[Nl l ,3)
On the dementary doctrine of historical materialism , (1) An object of history is
that thro ugh which knowledge is constituted as the object's rescue. (2) History
decays into inlages, no t into Stories, (3) Wherever a d ialectical process is realized,
we aJ.~ dealing \\ir.h a monad. (4) The materialist presentation of history carries
along with it an immanent critique of the concept of progress. (5) Historical
materialism bases its proced ures on long experienC(. common sense, presence of
mind, and dialectics. (On the monad : NlOa,3.)
[NII ,4)
The present determines where, in the object from the past, that object's forehistory and after·history diverge 50 as to circumsaibe its nucleus.
[NII ,5]
To prove by example th:ll only Marxism can practice great philo logy, where the
literature of the previous cenrury is concerned.
[N ll .6J
"The regions which wen: the first to become enlightened are not those where the
sciences have made the greatest progress." Turgot, Oefllms, vol. 2 (Paris, l844),
pp. 601 - 602 ("Second discours sur les progres succcssifs de I'esprit hUlUain"}.M
The tllought is taken up in the lata literature, and also in Marx.
[N1I .1J
In the course of the nineteenth century. as the bourgeoisie consolidated its positions of power, the concept of progress would increasingly have forfeited the
critical functions it originally possessed. (In this process. the docuine of natural
selection had a decisive role to play: it popularized the Dotion that progress was
automatic. The extension of the concept of progress to the whole of human
activity was fu nhered as a result.) With Turgot, the concept of progress still had
its critical functions. In particular, the concept m ade it possible to direct people's
attention 10 retrograde tendencies in history. Turgol saw progtUS, characteristically, as guarrult«d abo,'e all ill the realm of malhematical research.
ma ihema ticul llUdiefI.--M.I llnlleady in e ve ry tiling else. and 10 IIpt to go IIltra)'? •. .
In tlus slow Ilro~e8liiul.l of opinions and errors. ' .. I flll.ll~ )' I.ha l T I!t:e tho~ fl MlI
I ~D \'t":Ii , Iho~e ~ bt:ll lhll whk h nat UM! has gi \'f'n to the ne wl,. ! rowing skms o r Illa llt..
is~ uing he fnre them from tllf' ('lI rlh . a mi "" ilhe r in g om' I,), o ne liS o,her dlwaths
cum!: intu existence. uutil lit In ~ 1 du' sl,'11I ilself mukes ill! BIJPCllrtUICC a nd
is t r OWII L'ti with fillwers and rruit-n e)'mLol "r late-eme.rging I.rulh . ,. 1'urgol.
Oeu vres, YOI. 2 (Paris, IIW4). Jlp . 600...601 ("'St:eond liiseoll rl! ilur leI "rogre. &ue.cl!!l'~i fs d e l'I".JI11ril bumoio "). 31
[N lla.2}
A lim~s to progress still exists in Turgol: "In later times, ... it was necessary for
them. through reflection, to take themselves back to where the first men had been
led by blind instinct. And who is not awart that it is hen: that the supreme efl'o n
of reason lies?" Turgot, Oeutfft!J, vol. 2, p. 610.,;t This limit is still present in Marx;
later it is lost.
[N ll a,3]
Already with Turgot it is evident that the concept of progress is oriented toward
scientt. but has its corn::!ctive in art. (At bottom, no t even art can be ranged
exclusively under the concept of regressio n ; neither d oes J ochmann's essay de·
,,'Clop this concept in an unqualified way.) Of course, Turgot's estimate of art is
different from what OUTS would be today. "Knowledge of nature and of truth is as
infinite as they are; the am, whose aim is to please us, are as limited as y,~ are.
TlI1le constantly brings to light new discoveries in the sciences; but poetry, painting, and music have a fixed limit which the genius of languages, the imitation of
narun:., and the limited sensibility of our organs determine. , .. The great men of
the Augustan age reached it, and are still our models." Turgot, Ol!uurt!s, vol. 2
(Paris, 1844), pp. 605-606 ("Second discours sur les progres successifs de I'esprit
humain").J3 Thus a programmatic rmunciation of originality in an!
[N12,1)
''1'hf' re are clements or the BrtH of Iu sle which could he pe rfected with time-for
example, Ili!r8pective, wlaic.h depends on Olll ics. Bul lot:ul color, the imitation or
nalure. and the expression or the passiolls .li re of all timCi." Turgol , Oeu vr es, vol.
2 (Paria. 1844). p. 658 ("'PIIIII du &eeol.ld diar.o u rs su r I' hillioire univeflidle").34
[NI2,2)
{N lt a, l)
Militant representation of progress: "It is not error tha.t is o pposed to the progress
or truth; it is indolence, obstinacy, the spirit of routine. everything that contnbUtes to inaction.-The progJUs of even the most peaceful of artS among the
ancient peoples of G reece and tllcir republics was puncruated by continual wars.
~I was like the Jews' building the walls ofJ erusalem \\lith one hand while defendI~g them with the other. TIleir spirits were always in fcnnent, their heam always
high with ad"cnturt; and each day was a funher enlightenment." Turgot,
(kUlJres, vol. 2 (P:uis, 1844), pp. 672 ("PensCes et fragments").
[N12,3}
" Hul Whlll II 1l11i!1·IUI'i.· lin: ~ \ll'l.·j: aliioll (If me n', opinions prest:llt!! Thert: I 8t.e k thtl1','OgJ'Ch or Ihl' humun IIlitlll, uml I find \'irluull y "(lIlting but th e. his lory of iu
e rr llrl. Wh), iii its ctlurM"-whic h U so liurtl-. from Ihe ver y fir8t ~ te rli. in Ihe field of
Presence of mind as a political category comes magnificently to life in these
Words ofTurgot : "Before we have leamed to deal with things in a given position,
they have already changed several times. Thus. we always perceive events too
late, and politics always needs to foresee, so to speak, tbe present ." Turgot,
Or.llum, vol. 2 (Paris, 1844), p. 673 ("PcIJ.SC:es et fragment!").l'5
[N 12a. lJ
" TIIl'- ... rlulicu Uy Ilh c l'c,llllnd ~n pe uf Ihl" lIillCleenth centur y rt nJllin8 \'il!ible to
IIii" .I ay. iii Ira&1 ill 11'8,;,'<1. II .... 118 <lhapt:d b y lhe railroad, .... TI,,~ focpi point' of
Ihi hi,; tori cM lI D lUlsra l~ a re presellt wherever .ntlunwin ulllltUIlIle.1. cany"" and
viluluct . lorn:nt a nd fun k ular, river and iron bridge ... revellol their kinli hip , •. •
hi ulltheir singularit)·, thl"U things announce that oalnre 11118 1101 witbtll"llwn . amid
Ihe t r iulliph or IC" hllologic a) civi.lillatio ll. into the na mdess anll inchoate. Ihal the
pure ron, tru rtion of brillge or lunne! ,lili not in itself ••. u ~urp the la ndsrape. but
UlIlt Ii" er and mountain at once took their side, and not a ll subjugated adversaries
bUI 110 8 friendl y po ....crt. .... The iron locomoth 'e tha t di.8ap pears into the mountain
IUnllI'1 ••• seems ... to be relurning 10 its lIath'e element , where lhe raw material
out of which il ....afl nUlile lies 8Iumbcring." Dolf Sternberger, Plinorflnlfl . oder
[N t 2a,2]
Ansicliren 110111 19. )lIJlrhrmde.rr (Ibmhurg. 1938), PI" 34-35.
The concept of progress had to run counter to the critical theory of history from
the 1ll0l1lem it ceased to be applied as a oiterioo to specific historical developments and instead was required to me:asure the span bet\vc=en a le:genclary inception and a legendary end of history. In other words: as soon as it becomes the
signature of historical process aJ a whole, the concept of progress bespeaks an
uncritical hypostatization rather than a critical interrogation. TItis latter may be
recognized, in the concrete exposition of history, from the fact that it outlines
regression at least as sharply as it brings any progress into view. (fhus Turgot,
J ochmann.)
[N13,1)
Lotze as critic of the concept of progress: "In opposition to the readily accepted
doctrine thai the progress of humanity is evu onward and upward, more cautious reRection has been forced to make the discovery that the course of history
takes the fonn of spirals-some prefer to say epicydoids . In shan. there bas
never been a dearth of thoughtful but ve:i1ed acknowledgments that the impres·
sion produce:d by history on the whole, far from being one of unalloyed exultation. is preponderantJy melancholy. Unprejudiced consideration will always
lament and wonde:r to stt bow many advantages of civilization and special
charms of life are lost, never to reappear in their integrity." Hermann Lotze,
Mikro*osmos, vol. 3 (Lcipzig, L864), p. 21:)1;
fN 13.2J
Loue as critic of the concept of progress: "I t is not ... clear how we are to
imagine one course of education as applying to successive generations of men,
allowing the later of these to panake of the fruits produced by ule ullrewarded
effortS and often by the misery of those who went before. To hold that the claims
of particular times and individual men may be scorned and all uteir mis fortune:s
disregarded if only mankind would inlprove overall is, though suggested by
noble feelings, merely e:lIlhusiastic thougtu.icssness. .. Nothing is progress
which docs n Ot mean an increase of happiness and perfection for those very souls
which had sufTe:red in a previous imperfect state." Hermann Lotze, MiR.roR.osmru,
vol. 3 (Leipzig, 1864), p. 23.31 lIthe idea of progress extended over the totality of
recorded history is something peculiar to the satiated bourgeoisie, then Lotze
represents the reserves calJed up by !.hose on the defensive:. But contrast H olderlin: "T love the mce of men who are coming in the next cenruries."31
[N 13.3J
A thought·provoking obselV'drion : "It is one of the most notewonhy peculiarities
of the human heart ... that so much selfuhness in individuals coexists with the
gt:nerallack of envy which every present day feels toward its future ." This lack of
t:flvy indicates that the idea we have of happiness is deeply colored by the rime in
which we live. Happiness for US is thinkable only in the air that we have
breathed, among the people who have lived with us. In other words, there
vibrates in the idea of happiness (this is what that noteworthy circumstance:
teaches us) the idea of salvation. This happiness is founded on the very despair
and desolation which ~ ours. Our life, it can be said, is a muscle soong
enough to contract the whole of historical time. Or, to put it differently, the
genuine conception of historical time: rests enrirely upon the image of redemption. ('1be passage is from Lotze, MiR.roR.OJmOJ, vol. 3 [Leipzig, 1864], p. 49.),ti
[N 13a. lJ
Denial of the notion of progress in tlle religious view of history: "History, however it may move fonvard or Buctuate hither and thither, could not by any of itt
movements attain a goal lying out of its own plane. And we may spare ourselves
the oouble of seeking to find, in mere onward movement upon this plane, a
progress which history is destined to make not there but by an upward movement at each individual point of its course forward." Hermann Loae., Mitrn*o.J·
moo, vol. 3 (Leipzig, 1864), p. 49,010
fN13a,21
Connection. in Lotze, betwc=en the idea of progress and the idea of redemption :
"The reason of the: ","'Orld would be turned to unreason if we did not reject the
thought that the work of vanishing generations should go on forever benefiting
only those who come later, and being irreparably wasted for the workers themselvcs" (p. 50). This cannot be. "unless the world itself, and all the flourish about
historical development, are to appear as me~ vain and unintelligible noise. . ..
That in some mysterious way Lhe progress of history affects them, too-it is this
conviction that first entitles us to speak as ....'C do of humanity and its history"
(p. 5 1). Lotze calls this the "thought of t.he preservation and restoration of all
[N 13a,3]
things" (p. 52). 11
Cultural history. according to Bernheim, developed out of the positivism of
Corme; Bcloch's Gretk Huto? « vol. 1,> 2nd e:dition, 191 2) is, according to him, a
textbook example of Comtean inBuence. Positivist historiography "disregarded
. .. the state and political processes, and saw in the coUective intcllecrual development of"society the sole content of history.... The elevation ... of cultural
history to the only subject worthy of historical research' " Ernst Bernheim. Mil-
ttiaiterlil/Je .<:,ritansc/Jauungm in i/Jmn EiriflUM atif RJlitiA. urul Gm.hi!/Jt.JJchnibung
n-ubin~n. 1918), p. 8.
[N 14, I)
'II'
"' The logi.;a l eali'gor y of timtl .1000s n o l gO"l:rl1 the \'t!r h
IUII!:;h a.1I o ne m.ight
ell l~'('t. · St r ll nge u it mil)" seem , the l~ lIlIr".$s ion of th e future l lues not aplwa r to be
liilllat~tl on IIII' suml! le"cI of tile IlIInllHl mimi a ll 1111'1 t'x:pruuiull o r till' pust anti of
tlu.! I'rCl!l!nt. .. , ' Tlu~ future often h as 1111 eXllrt8Jio n ofiu OWlt; o r ir it has one. it i.
Ii complicaled tl.XpreNion withou t parallel to tbat of the p re5e1l1 or the , '8S I.' . . .
'Therc is no reason to belie"!! thai prehillt.orir Indo- European ever IH18St:8Si!d a
trut' future tense' (Meille t)," J ean-Richard BlOt:h, "tangage d ' utilite. langage
l'ueli!lue" (Encyclopedie frnn t;ui&c, vol. 16 [16-50], 10) .
[N 14,2]
also a n ill!:n:.a.se in !lien '" e<)Jlcerli for tJICIII .. . a nd in thl:! c1f'arnCl6 of Iheir in8ighl
,·oneerning the m." Lotze. Mikroko!llllu$. "01. 3. p . 29 .. '~
[N 14a,3]
Lutzi' I.In 1111111311il)': " It CIl IlII,,1 lit' !SAid tha i ml' lI p"ow to what they a rc with a
cUIIscioUl;n('ss of this growth . a mi with an accompllnyinj; rcrnj'mbrance or their
1'1"'ViOU8 "llIlIliIIOIl :' Lutze., Mikroko.'lmo,. vol. 3. p. 3 1: 1<1
(N14a,4J
Lotze's vision of history can be related to Stifter's: ;lthat the unruly will of the
individual is always restrictcd in its action by universal conditions Dot subject to
arbitrary will-conditions which an' to be found i.n the laws of .spiritual life in
general. in the established omu of nature . , . ., Lotze, Mi..trokosmOJ~ vol. 3, p, 34.11
[N Ib,S]
Sirnme.l touches o n a very important matter wilh the distinction between the
concept or culture and the spheres of autonomy in classical Idealism. The separa.
tion of the three autonomous domains from o ne another preserved classical
Idealism from the concept or culture. that has so favored the cause of barbarism,
Simmd says of the cultural ideal: "It is essential that the independent values of
aesthetic, scientific, ethical. , ' . and even religious achievements be tranSC.eIlded,
SO that they can all be integrated as dements in the development of human
nature beyond its narura1 state." Georg Simmel, PhiJOJophie thJ Ge/dts (Lciprig,
1900), pp. 476-477."
(N 14~)
" Tllt:re has neve r bet-Il a period of hif lo r y in whic h the c ulture pec uliar to it h••
lea\'ened thl' whllie of human.it y, ur ev!!.n til t" whole of tllat o ne nation which w••
IIpecially distinguished by it . AU degrt!CH and s hades '.If morallHl rbllris lll , of mental
obtwencli , and of ph ys ical wrctcltedn ellB have always heell found in jux taposition
with cuhurt!d rd inl'.lllc.1I1 of life _ .. and free pa rticilHltion in lltt! be.ndiu of civil
nnler.'" He rma nn Lutze. Mikrukosmo,. yol. 3 (Leipzig, 18&~), Pl" 23-24.~J
(N143,l)
Tu tlte "iew that " Ihere is progress e nough if. ' . , while the DlaSI of mankind
rtlmaius mired in 811 uncivilized condition . the civilizatio u o r II slIla U minority i8
constantl y " roggling upward to veale.r and greate r height.... l..otl!:e rellpondl with
the question: ··How, upon such assumptions. can we be entitled to speak of one
bis tory of mllnkind?" Lotl!:e. f\ Jik rokosmM, vol. 3. 1' . 25.1-4
[N1 4a,2]
I
'"'The wily ill which the e uitur!' of pa st time i for tile I11 l1lil lIa rl h ll nded (own
."
Lotze saY8, " \calis !lirc/·tl y ba/,k to the vc ry opl'ollil" of lllut a t which historical
,lc,.d o pme.lIt shoultl aim : il 1~lld8, Ihal ii , to the formatiol' of un ;nl tirlct of c ulture,
which continu ally la ke!! up more and more of the ciem"nU of ci,·i1i."a lion . tbul
muki n g Ihem a lirell~8i1 1)(l uc8i1ion.and\<o·ilhdruwin g then.frumlhe8 I.lu:: rt. of Ihal
C'OJlsc.iOU!J ac ti vity by Ihe I= ITorl of which the)" \<o'e rl:! at fi rs t o hlllineJ" (p . 28~,
Acco rd ingly: '""The. progreu of ilcicncc i, nllt , . , • ,lirm:t1y, huma n progrellB: II
wnll'" he- Ihis ir. ill IJ rupO rlinn til tilt' illlll'eale in acc umulated Irul.l ui, the.re ",'ere
To be compared with Stifter's preface to Buntt Sitint <Colored Stones): '"'Let us at
the o utset regard it a.s certain that a great effect is always due to a great cause,
!lever to a small one." HiJtoirt: de Julu Cisa~ vol. 1 (Paris, 1865) (Napoleon III) .
[N 14a.61
A phrase which Baudelaire coirn for the consciousness of time peculiar to someone intoxicated by hashish can be applied in the definition of a revolutionary
historical consciousness, H e speaks of a night in which he was absorbed by the
effects of hashish: "Long though it seemed to have been ... ,yet it also seemed to
have lasted only a few seconds, or even to have had no place in aU eternity."
<Bauddaire, (kuurtS, ed, Le Dantec (Paris, 1931 ),) vol. 1, pp. 298-299."
(NIS.I )
At any givcn timc:. the living see themsdves in the midday of history. They are
obliged to prepare a banquet fo r the past. The historian is the herald who invites
the dead to the table.
[N15,2J
O n the dietetics o r historical literature, The contemporary who learns from
books of history to recognize how long his present misery has been in preparatiou (and this is what the historian must inwardly aim to show him) acquires
thereby a high opinion of his own powers. A history that provides tills kind or
inStruction d oes not cause him sorrow, bUI arms him. Nor d oes such a history
arise &om sorrow. unlike that which Flaubert had in mind when he pclUled the
COnfession : "Few ....-i1l suspct:t how depressed one had to be to wlde:rtake the
resuscitation of Canhage."" It is pure am-o.ritt that arises from and deepeJls
SOrrow.
[N15,3J
Example of a "cultural historical" perspective in the \\IOrsc sense, Hu.izi.J1b'"
speaks of tile consideration displayed for the life of the cOlluno n people in the
pastorals .of the late Middle Ages. "H ere. too, belongs that interest in rags and
(alters which ... is already beginning to make il"self felt . Calendar miniatures
note with pleasure the threadbare knees of reapers in the field, while paintings
aCCC11luate the rags of mendicants.... Here begins the:. line that leads through
Rembrandt's cldtiugs and Murillo's beggar boys to the Street type5 of Steinlen."
J. Huizinga, H~rbjl tl~j Millt la/(tfj (Munich, 1928). p. 448.'" At issue. of c.ourse, is
actually a very specific phenomenon.
(N 15,41
'1'111' puet h ~ I"fl imagc& of iteel( in litcrar )" text . imllgt'! CU nlllaraLI~ tu Ihule
...hiC'h a rc imprinted by light on II pliulo8e11 8ilh'e " Ilite. The future alune IW800e11e.
tll'\'l' lollCn acl h'c cnullgh to lean such $urfaees l)C rf~· tl )". Many page!! in MonyalUl:
ur Houuea u cOlllllin II myuenouA meaninr; ""hich Ihe 6 ,..t n:adel"i or the1M': Iut.
rould nOI full ), line decil,herl!tl :' And'+' Monyond . Le pre ronlflntumeJrRn~aU.
VII I. I . l..e Hero, preromlmtique (Crl'llOhle, 1930), 1" x.ii.
[N 15a,1}
A revealing vision of progress in Hugo, "Paris incendiC" (Lifnnit tanblt):
What! Saoifice everyt.hing! E,'co the grnnary!
What! 11K library. arch where dawn arises,
Unfathomable: ABC or the idc:al, where progress.
Elemal reader, Ic:ans on illl dbo\....s and drums ...
On the:. sty1c:. one should strive for: "It is through evc:ryciay words that style bites
into and penetrates the reader. It is through them that great thougbu circulate
and ~ accepted as genuine. like gold or silve:.r imprinted with a recognized seal.
1lle), inspire confidence in the person who uses them to make:. his thoughu more
understandable: for one:. recognizes by such wage of common language a man
who knows life:. and the world, and who stays in touch with things. Morcovtr,
these. words make for a frank style:.. They show that the:. author has long I"UIIlinated the thought or the:. feeling expressed, that he has made them so Dluch his
own, so much a matter of habit, that for him the most common expressiolll
suffice to c:.xpras ideas that ha~ bc:.come natural to him after long dc::libc:.r.ltion.
In the. end, what one says in this way will appear more truthful, for nothing is so
clear, when it comes to words. than those:. we call familiar; and clarity is something so characte:.ristic of Ihe:. truth that it is often confused with it" Nothing more
subtle than the suggestion: be: dc:ar so as to have at least the appearance of truth.
Offered in this way, the:. advice to write:. simply-which wually harbors resentme:.lll-has the highest authority.j.Joubert, OeulJrtS (Paris. 1883). vol. 2, p. 293
[N15.,,)
(-Du Style," no. 99).
'11e persOIl who cOll1d develop the J oubc:rrian dialectic of prece:.ptS would pro-duce a stylistic!! worth mentioning, For example.J ouben recommends the use:. of
"CVt'ryday .....,ords" but wanlS agaUlSt "colloquial language; which ~expresses
thing! relevant 10 our present custOnlS only" ("00 Style," no. 67 ( OeullrtS, vol. 2,
p. 286».
(N IO,!)
"A ll beaulUul expreuiulIl' ar ,. §u,e:t'l'tible or mol'!' diaD on.. nlt!aniug. W'It~n a
In.auliful e.liCIJr....ioD prl:M:.llti a mt'a nintt nlUre kautifu llhan Ih", a uthor', own . it
should be all ul't~ ." J. J Oubert. Oeu vre, (PM';•. 1883 ). vul. 2 . p. 276 ("Ou Style,"
no. 17).
[N16.2]
With re~ to politic~ e~nol.lly, . Marx charncterizes as "its vulgar elc:.ment"
above all tllat de:.ment U1 It wluch IS mere reprodUCtion-that is n>nresc:nta .
"C" d ·
__ L
' '-r
oon
o appearance.. Ile 10 Ko~I.
Man: <manwcript), vol. 2, p. 22.JI This
vulgar element IS to be denounced III other sciences as "'ClI,
(N16.3]
r
J?u/
Concept o~ nalur; in Ma.l"X: " If in lI e!!:..1 ... 'physicaJ na lure likewise ~ncrlOachet
O~I ",'urld 1~ls lory, tJlt~n Marx cOlleciv" naillre rrom the heginninrl in lIOCial cat~~
n e.;. PhY8lflll nature d oel not enter directJ , inlO ""ur lll history; rather. il enters
indirectl y, UII II. I'nlCeB, lOr mulen al Ilroductiou thai &~iI on, frlOm lhe earliest
moment. n OI 6nly he
l..·~· n milo'
and nu lun:: bUI als6 bel"" t!en man and man. 0 r, lo
.
u~ Jan&"age Ihat WIll be dea r to philoilollhen al well: in Marx', n gorousl y.ucial
IClence, that pure natitre pres uJlI'"I1~1 by all human activil , (theec6nomie nau
.
I
".
nt,tllrflfl$ ) II rep aced eyerywher.. hy nal,lI.re: "' rrruterilll,lrfnlll Cfi6 n (the tlCouomic
naturo narur(Jta ~t11a t ill. hy 1/1 social ' mllller ' nlt!tlialOO and Iran rUmled
thNlugh human ISOcilll lIuivity, a nd thu. a t the "amt· timl' ca pable ofrurther chaose
and mOllification inlhe presenl 3ntl the rlliure, '. Korllt:h , Karl Murx. VIII . 3, p. 3.:':
(N IO,' ]
KOrlich provide8 the roll uwing reformulation (lr the fl cgt"lian triad in Marxian
lerms: "The Hegelian ' contradictioll ' was rcplaced hy Ihe 81ruggle or the social
C~~8I:I ; the dialeclical ' negation ,' by the "roIClariat ; and tlul dialectical ',ynthe118, b), the proletarian revolutiun ." Korsch , Kflrl Mflrx. vol. 3, p. 45, ~
{N16.5}
Restriction lOr the malcrialist conception of hi8l0r y in Ko rtlC h: .•~ the material
mode ~ f production chau l!!elI. 0110t! tile Aylilem of mediation existin l!! between the
ma~enal bue. and il political ant.ljondical f UIk" trucluu, wilh ita COrrHpoDrung
nell. '",' elite, I hC rle Der-al propositionA of malenawlsoci.1
8O(;1a.J fonns or conwou
·
~heory concerning the reia liolili helwecn ecanomy a nd politic. nr econ omy ~d
ideo!"'",y
. 8Ur.h r;enerul concepti I f eLau and duu , rr-U8&le • ••. have.
a diU"">:I • orcon ~rrunl!!
Mi erenl nu:all1lll!! rur ("ae h 8pecific t'poch a nd. 5Incd y .peakin ~. ar e valid , in the
pa . t ular rorm Marx gave lh ~ m ""itIILn Ihe prl'scnl hourgeoill80dety, IlIlly ror lhis
sOI·lely.... Only for eOllt.·mpur ur y hourgeoijJ 8111·jd)" where the 81theres lO r ecOrl omyaII dI JO
, .Hie,
, are rormaUy alul l'otirely St'llarated from each (liher and where
" , u r I hI' "ta te art frl~ a lit! 1}<)~~8et1 uf t!Cluai ri glll!!.
• dtH:! Ih l'
worker$a
..
.
II r ltu.ens
" "'"11fil' demu nsI ra t".IUII I) r t IIClr
. aetuu I IIllgning lack or rn'Cllum UI Ihe cI'nn"nlic
~ IJ ll c rc huvl~ dIe chorncler uf u theurI'li,'ul cli'Il'IIVCI·Y." Kurilrh. \·u1. 3. JlI', 2 1-22.
(N 16a,J)
Kursch
ma ke!> " the ~t'enllll
' , . f.'y
~ I par a ~ IIIXlca
' I II IIIlI'rVuliol1 (wh.il·h is lI(tlwllwl",.
.
I
I fi
... .. ,
I,l'.l 10 I Ie llIal IUIII nH.l~ 1 mature forlll of /'II.urxiu n 5Cience) Iilal ill IIII~ mate:riaJilil
' tH·lal tllt.·flry of Marx Ille e ll~mhll' of lI~ ial rl'illiionil . ... hil'll hourgeoi.!l ~ociologj · u
all an independenl domain .•• • already ill inve tigated
to illl ohj: .
8U t
l~1Il
aecord~
live, , ,content by the hi.lltorica l and locial science of eCIlIImnic', .. ' , III th u 'eme,
ml.tpri(.Ii.:It $ocilJ ,riem;e u Ilot 3ociolog), but economiC$.'· Kor c h, Karl
.llurx. \'u i. 3. ". 103 .;'1
[N 16a,2]
M(lrx ~
A I'itali"n from l\1urx t ill dl!" mutahilit y of nalur{' (in Kor8dl , K(.r/ Mll rx. vol. 3,
p. 9): " En'n Ihe naturally grown val'iatiolls of the human spccie;;; , lI u('1I us differ _
ences of race, ... rlill and IIlU ~ t bc abolished in the Ilistorical process ... ;;~
(N16a,3]
Doctrine of the supersl r udur... according to Korsell : "'Nei ther ' dialectical caul!al_
ity' in illl philosophic delillilion. nor dcienti1ic ' l;JI.usality' supplemented by 'inter-lU'tinlll;.' is l u£ficienl 10 dch:rmine the particular kimls of connection8 and
.·elations exi5ting hctw t't:1l thc c(:ollomic ' Lase' and UIt: juridical and political '8Uper structure ... " together with the ' I:o"relpondillg' forms of cOllsciou8ncu ....
TYo'entielh-cclltur)' natural llcience has learned thai the 'cau8al' n:la tioOi which
thc resea rcher in a gi" cn fi eld hal to establish for lhat field cannot be defined in
tcrml! of a genen .. 1cO'lI:4:lll or law of cauliality, but mUl t be determined I pecifically
for each separa te field ,· [·See Philil'P Frank , D,u KOII.m 1seletz und leiM Grenze'l <The Law of CU lIso..lity and It6 Limit s> (Vienna , 1932) .] .. . The greater part of
the resnlts , , . ohtuined by Ma rx " lui Engcl8 con~i S I not ill theoretica l formula~
Lions of the Il CW prindple hut ill its s pecific application to II series of , , . questioDs,
which are dth t'r of fund amental practical importa nce or of all extremely l ubtle
nature theoretit·ally, . . . • [· Here , for example, belong the questions raised by
Marx at the cnd of Ult! 1857 ' Introduction ' <to the Gnmdriue> (pp . 179ff. ), and
which conc('rn the ' unequal devdopmcnl ' of different s pheres of socia llife~ un!)(fual devcio}Jlllent of mahll'ial production vis·a-vis arli8tic production (and of the
various arts among themselves), the level of education il. the United StateB al
compared tt) that nf Europe, une<lual de\'d opmellt of the relationl of production
as legal relation!, and 50 forth .] The more precise scientific determination of the
present cOlltexts is l till a ta8k (or the future ... , a talk whose center will lie, once
agai n . lIot in theoretical formulati on bllt in the further applicatioo and telting of
1I11~ p"incil'le8 implicit in Marx's work . Nor sllould we ad here tOO strictl y to the
words of Marx , who orten used his terms only fi gur lltive!y-as, for iostance, in
describing the cOllnccljous uncler consideration here as a rela tion hctl'o' t:e:n ' ba8C"
and ·stl)Jt'.Mitructure.· as a 'cvr N!l polidencc,' and 1 0 Oil , , •• In all tlu,!~ e calle5. the
Marnan COII(:I:p18 (al Sorel Ilnd Lenin , among tile later Marxist!!, underltood best)
art' lIot intt'mlcll as new dogTnatic fl'lI l'r!, a!! p rees t a bli~ h ctl cOllilition8 Yo'llirh nillst
ht" mel ill some pa rticular 1l,',ll'r Icy an y ' materialisl' i,u"CSligation . They a re,
I·a lhcr. u wholly umlobrrlml.ic brui(lc 10 reticarch and actiou ." Kortich , KI/r/ Mar)!:
(mllllllse"ipt), vol. 3. PI" 93-96,"'"
(N Il]
\falerialist I'(inception of hislor y 8 1.111 matcrialist phiJusuph y: "Thc formulas of
matcriali3t hititury Urat were 1( 1)1)lh:t1 by Marx and Engel ... solely 10 the . ' ,
i'U'CdiglltilJlI 'If huurgeoi.;; snricly, nnd transferred 10 other histol'ical (teriods only
wilh suit<lhlc d ul'O,·utiulI . IUl vt' h l' l ' lI detucilcd by lhl~ MarxiSI epigollcs from this
ti(lccilic Il)lplic!ltioll. a ll\l in gt" lf'ral from ever)' historicnl cOllnection , lind out of
5O-CaUcll historic:al materialism IIICY have made a UniVCrilal .. , lociologicaJ tlleory, From lhis ... leveling ... of ma teria list theory of society. it was ollly II step to
the idea thll l once again lod ay--or r.~ pecia U y tIMla y- it Yo' a~ nece6sar y 10 shore up
the hi.;;loriclil allil economic sciellce of Marx . not onl y with a general sociall'hilosQphy hut e\'~ 11 with a ... uni versal materialist world view embracing the totality of
uatun: unll @oricty. Thus, the .. , scicntific (orms into which the r eal kernel of
•.iglIICillith-century philoliophical materiamm hatl evolved , , . were ultimately
j·a rried back to wll at Ma rx himself hall once ulllllilltaka.bly r epudiated as ' Ihe
philosophical phraJ>e8 of the I\lalerililli8ts about matter,' Materialist social lcience
.. ' dlle$ I1l1t need ... any such philosophic I UPIJOrt . T his most important advalll:e
. .. carrietl 0 111 by Marx was la ter overlooked even by . . . ' orthodox' inte'l)retenr
,)f Marx .
. They have thus reintroduced their own backward attitude!! into a
theory which l\brx had consciously transformed from a philosophy into a science.
It is the almost grotesque historical fate of the Marx-orthodoxy that, in repulsing
lhe attackl of re\'isionists, it ultimately arrives, on aU imlwrtant issues. at the veery
same standpoint al that taken by iu adversaries, rill' example, the leacLing r epre8t'otaLive of this school , ... Plekhanov, in his eager pUr8 uit of that ' philosophy'
which might be the t.rue foundati on of Marxism. finally hit upon the idea of presenti ng Marxism as ' a fonn of Spinoza 's philosophy (reed by Feuerbach of iu
theological atldentlum. "· Korsch . Karlltfarx (mallu8I::ript ). vol. 3, pp. 2~1. ~1
[NllaJ
KOflch cites Baco n , from the Novum Organum: ''' Recte crum verila@tempo"s
lilia dicitur nOli a uctoritas.' On th at authority of all a uthorities, time , be had
based the superiority of the new bourgeois empirical science over the dogmatic
science of the Middle AgeB." KOnlf: h . Korl Marx (malluscript), vol. 1. p . 72. '"
[N18. l]
I "'For the positi ve use, Marx replaceil the overweening postulate of Besel tllat the
truth must be COllcrete with the ratiorutl principle of 1/}eci[lCation, , , . The real
intercijt li('ij .
ill the specific t.ra its through which each porticIlh, r historical
sociely i~ d i5tinSlluhed from the common features of l ociety in general Ilnd in
which . therefore, its development is cOlllprised .. , , In the same manner, au exact
SOcial science rallllOI form its gener al concepu b y ainlpl)' abs tracting from some
and r.etaining other more or less arbitrarily chosen t' haracteristics of the gi ven
hi~torical form of bourgeois society. It can secure the knowlc<lgt' of the general
I'hntainccl ill Ilult particular fm'm uf ij ~lcit! t y oilly lly t.lll' minute irn'{'stigation "f aU
lhe hi~t .. r ij·al "ullllitinIlS tlllIl.!r1 yi llg itll cmer gence (r.. m !llIutlle.r ... Wl e .. f sudc ty
:111\1 f.'om Ihe a,·t lllli modification of its present fornl ul1Ilt:r exactl y d tablished
f un,litiuns, .. , TilliS, the only gcnuine lawl! in sodal 81'icllce are lawl of ,IevciopIJh'III . " Ko r8d l. K(lri Marx (manuscript). yol. I , I'p. 49-52."
[N18.2J
~e authentic concept of universal history il a messianic concept. Universal
history, as it is understood today, is an alTair of obscurantists.
IN J8.3]
-[be now of recognizability is the moment of awakening. (Jung would like to
distance awakening from the dream.)
[N 18,4]
In his characteruacion of Leopardi, Sainte-Beuve declares himsdf ""persuad«l ...
that the fuU value and o riginality of literary criticism depends on its applying
itself to subjects for which we have long possessed the background and all the
immediate and more distant contats." C.-A. Sainte-lkuve, PorlTai/,J contmljHr
raim, vol. 4 (Paris, 1882), p. 365. On the other hand, it must be admitted that the
absence of certain of the conditions demanded here by Sainte-Sc.uve can have its
value. A lack o f fee ling for the most delicate nuances of the text can itself cause.
the reader to inquire more attentivcly into the least of facts within the social
relations underlying the work of art. Moreover, the insensitivity to fine shades o f
meaning can more readily procUl~ for one (thanks to clearer apprehension of the
contours of the ""'Ork) a certain superiority to other aitics, insofar as the feeling
[N 18a,1]
for nuances d oes not always go together with the gift for ana1ysis.
Critical remarks on technical progress show up quite early. The author of the
treatise On Art (Hippocrates?): "I believe that the inclination . _ . of intc.lligence ls
to discover anyone of those things that are still unknown, if indud it is btt/(T to
haut discolMrtd them /lran not to halJt: ,Ulnt! so at all." Leonardo da Vooci: "H ow and
why I do not write of my method of going undern'ater for as long as I can remain
there without eating: if I neither publish nor divulge tlus information, it is be·
cause of the wickedness of Olen who would avail themsc:lvtS of it to commit
murder at the bottom of the sea-by staving in ships and sinking them with their
crews." Bacon : "In , .. 1llt: Nw Atlantis, . . . he entrusts to a specially chosen
commission the responsibility for deciding which new inventions will be brought
before the public and which kept secret.r' Pierre-M axime Schuhl, MaclJini.sme d
fthi/osofthie (Paris, 1938), pp. 7, 35. -"TIte bombers remind us of what Leonardo
da Vinci expected of man in Bight: that he was to ascend to the skies 'in order to
seek snow on the mountaintops and bring it back to the city to spread on the:
sweltering stTeets in summer" (Schuhl, Mach.inismt! tt phJ1ruophie, p. 95).
[N18a,2)
It may be:: that the continuity of tradition is mere semblance. But then precise1y
the persistence of this semblance of persistence provides it with continuity.
[Nl9,I]
l:)rOllilt , all rf)po ~ of a dla ti nn (from a le lll!r by <G Ilt'Z d ll) Bab:IIC 10 M. d e Forgueao)
which he evide ntl y lm rro w{'d fn)lll J\.Ionll!Slluio u., to who m his co mme nl8 are addrt:'ued . (The pail"alW nll~y ('om ai n a nonst'.llsical slip of Ihe pcn o r a printer "
j·rror.) " It was fiftee n ,lays ago tlial I removed it [ thai is, tI,e citation) from my
f1,·(wf ljlWi!l8.. . _ My hook ...·i!l1l0 ,Iaubl he 100 little relld for there 10 h ave bt!en
uny risk. of t urnis hilll; your dla tion. Furthe rmort:. I witlulrf'w it less for your sake
tl,un for the sake of th t: lie.ntcner itst-II. In raCI , I Io-clievc II1I'rc exis ts rtl r every
ben uliflll 8f:IlIt'IlI'fl un imllrc"c riplihlc rigl.t whic h rend,," it illuLienaLle 10 alilak-
I' r~ e:r;.te pl Ihe o ne for whom it waits, according In a df!li Ullativn wl, ic h is ill de ~
liIlY:- Corrcsponrlllflc{' generfltc rlc Man:el I'rO/U f . \luI. I . /.;I'ltre3 U H.ofler! de
M"nles'll/ifJrI (pari! _ 19311), PI' . 73-74 .'....
[NI9,2]
l11c pathological clement in the no tion o f "culmre" comcs vividly to light in the
effect produced on Raphac=.l, the hero of 'flit Wild AJJ~ Sk.in, by the enonnous
stock of merchandise in the fo ur-story ancique shop into which he \'t:ntures. "To
begin with, the stranger comp.1..I'Cd . .. three showrooms-crammed with the
relics o f civilizations and religions, deities, royalties, masterpieces of art. the produ ctS of debauchery, reason and unreason-to a nurror of many faer.ts, each one
representing a whole ....,orld .. .. The young man's senses ended by being
numbed at the sight of so many national and individual existences, their au thenticity guaranteed by the hurnan pledges which had survived them .... For him
this ocean of furnishings, inventions, fashions , works o f an, and ~lics made up
all endless poem .. .. H e clutched at every joy, grasped at every grief. made all
the fonnulas of existener. his own, and ... generously dispersed his life and
fcclinS! over the images of that empty, plastic nature . . .. He fd t smothered
under the d ebris of fifty vanished centuries. nauseated with this surfeit of human
thought, oushed under the weight of luxury and an.• . . Alike in its caprices to
our modem chemistry, which would reduce CKation to one single gas, does not
tile soul distill femuJ poisOIlS in the rapid concentration of its pleasures .. . or its
ideas? Do not many men perish through the lightning action of some moral acid
or other, suddenly injected intO their innermost being?" Balzac. fA /tau lk cJw.grin, «I. Flammarioll (Paris), pp. 19, 21 - 22, 24_~1
[N19,3]
Some theses by Focillon which have appearances on their side. Of course, the
materialist theory of art is interested in dispelling such appearance. " ~ have no
rig4t to confuse the state of the life of fo m lS with the state of social life. The time
tha~ g1vtS suppon to a work of art does no t give definition either to iu principle
o r to its specific foml " (p. 93). "The combined activity of the Capetian monar~
cllY, the episcopacy, and the townspeople in the development of Gothic cathe·
drals shows what a decisive influence may be exereised by the alliance of social
forces. Yet no matter how powerful this activity may be, it is still by no means
qualified to so lve problems in pure statics, to co mbine relationships of values.
The vario us masons who bonded two ribs of stone crossing at right angles
beneath the north tower o f Bayeux .. . I the creato r of the choir at Saint-Denis.
were geometers working on solids, and not historians interpreting timc. [I!} TIle
mo.~t ancntive study o f the most ho mogeneous milieu, of the mosl closely woven
concatenation of circumstances, will not serve to give liS the design o f the towers
of L., on ~ (p. 89). It would be necessary 10 follow up o n these reflections in order
to show, firSt, the difference between the theory of milieu and the UlCOry of the
forces o f production, and, second, the difference between a " ~construction" and
a historical interpretation of works. Henri Focillon, Vie deJ fl nnes (Paris, 1934),61
[N 19a, I)
Focillon on technique: "It has been like some observatory whence both sight and
study might embrace within one and the same perspective the brreatest possible
number of objectS and their greatest possible diversity. For technique may be
interp~ted in many various ways: as a vital force. as a theory of mecha.ni~, or as
a mere convenience. In my own case as a historian, I never regarded technique aa
the automatism of a laaft,' nor as .. , the recipes of a 'cuisine'; instead I saw it aa
a whole poetry of action and ... as the means for attaining metamorphoses. It
has aJways scented to me that ... the observation of technical phenomena not
only guarantees a certain conuoUable objeCtivity, but affords entrance into the
very heart of the problem, by pmenting il 10 UJ in the same. t~ andfrvm the same
jXJillt f!f umu aJ il iJ presented to 1M artUl. " The phrase ItaliCIZed by the author
marks the: basic error. Henri Focillon, Vie desformu (Paris, 1934). pp. 53-54.'"
[N 19a,2]
The " activity on the )lltrt of a style in the process of selI-definition .. , is generally
kllllWII IlS uu 'evolution,' this term being here understood in its broadest and most
general scnle, Uiologicai llcience checked and modulated the concept of evolution
wit h painstaking cure; a rehat.'Oiogy, 0 11 the other hand , took it limply all . , .•
metho.1 of c1alllliliea tion. I bave elsewhere pointed out the d angers of 'tlvo)ution':
ill! deceptive ortll:rlillc8I. ita sing.le-mindfti diref:tness, its use, inlhose problematic
cases ... , of the eXI)etlil!llt of ' tra llilitions,' its inability to ma ke room ror the
rl!volutjon ary enl!rgy of inventors." n ellri Focillon , Vie de! form e! (Paris, 1934),
"p . 11- 12.""'
[N20]
o
[prostitution, Gambling]
Love: is a bird of ptwngr,
- NI1IIINII.U% liJhk",u: (/t I'tuu, /II/ ObHnoa!K,m ~1tT Ie.J III«fm tt UJtIgtJ tkJ
RuiJinlJ lUI rot/ItflnlCnmtt dll XJ),· JiHk ~ 11;128), \"01. 1, p. 37
... in an aKade,
\"\bmcll ~ as in thcir boudoir.
- Brazier. Gabriel a.nd
DuITler$ilIl,
u s ~s din
nt(.J, flU
u. Gllm't
didarit (Paris, 1827), p. 30
Hasn't his eternal vagabondage everywhere accustomed him to reinterpreting
the image of the city? And doesn', he t:ransform the arcade into a casino, into a
gambling den, where now and again he :stakes the red, blue. ydlow plOTU of
feeling on women, on a face that suddenly surfaces (will it rrtum his look?), on a
mute mouth (will it speak?)? What, on the baize cloth, looks o ut at the gambler
from every number-luck, that is-here, from the bodies of all the wm:nm,
winks at him as the chimera of sexuality: as his type.
is nothing other than
the number, the cipber, in which just at that moment luck will be called by name,
in order to jump immediately to anomer number. His type-that's the number
that pays off thirty-six·fold, the one on which, \vithout even trying, the eye of the
voluptuary falls, as the ivory ball falls into the red or black compartment. He
leaves the Palais-RoyaJ with bulging pockets, calls to a whoR:, and once more
celebrates in her arms the communion with number, in which money and riches,
absolved from every earthen 'weight. have come to him from the fates like a
joyous embrace returned to the full . For in gambling haJl and bordello, it is the
saDle supremely sinful delight: to challenge fate in pleasure. Let unsuspecting
idealists imaginc that sensuaJ pleasurt:, of whatever stripe, could evcr dClem llne
Ul(' theological concept of sin . l11e oribrin of U"ue lechery is nothing else but this
stealing of pleasure from O Ui of the COuI'Se of life with God, whose covenant with
-such life resides in the name. 11le name itself is the cry of naked lust. TIils sober
thing, fateless in itself-the name- knows 110 orner adversary than the fate that
takes its 'place in whoring and tha[ forges its arsenal in superstition. 11ll1s in
gambler and prostitute that sUpt"rstitiOIt which arranges the 6gmcs of fate and
nus