—and opposed such childishness to the adult gravity
[spoudè] of speech). This
play, thought
as absence of the transcendental signified, is not a play in the world, as it has always been
defined, for the purposes of containing it, by the philosophical tradition and as the theoreti-
cians of play also consider it (or those who, following and going beyond Bloomfield, refer
semantics to psychology or some other local discipline). To think play radically the
ontological and transcendental problematics must first be seriously exhausted; the question of
the meaning of being, the being of the entity and of the transcendental origin of the world—of
the world-ness of the world—must be patiently and rigorously worked through, the critical
movement of the Husserlian and Heideggerian questions must be effectively followed to the
very end, and their effectiveness and legibility must be conserved. Even if it were crossed out,
without it the concepts of play and writing to which I shall have recourse will remain caught
within regional limits and an empiricist, positivist, or metaphysical discourse. The counter-
move that the holders of such a discourse would oppose to the precritical tradition and to
metaphysical speculation would be nothing but the worldly representation of their own
operation. It is there-fore the game of the world that must be first thought; before attempting
to understand all the forms of play in the world.14
From the very opening of the game, then, we are within the becoming-unmotivated of the
symbol. With regard to this becoming, the opposition of diachronic and synchronic is also
derived. It would not be able to corn-
((51))
mand a grammatology pertinently. The immotivation of the trace ought now to be understood
as an operation and not as a state, as an active move-ment, a demotivation, and not as a given
structure. Science of “the arbitrariness of the sign,” science of the immotivation of the trace,
science of writing before speech and in speech, grammatology would thus cover a vast field
within which linguistics would, by abstraction, delineate its own area, with the limits that
Saussure prescribes to its internal system and which must be carefully reexamined in each
speech/writing system in the world and history.
By a substitution which would be anything but verbal, one may replace semiology by
grammatology in
the program of the Course in General Linguistics:
I shall call it [grammatology] .... Since the science does not yet exist, no one can say what it
would be; but it has a right to existence, a place staked out in advance. Linguistics is only a
part of [that] general science . . . ; the laws dis-covered by [grammatology] will be applicable
to linguistics. (p. 33) [p. 16].
The advantage of this substitution will not only be to give to the theory of writing the scope
needed to counter logocentric repression and the subordination to linguistics. It will liberate
the semiological project itself from what, in spite of its greater theoretical extension, remained
governed by linguistics, organized as if linguistics were at once its center and its telos.
Even
though semiology was in fact more general and more comprehensive than linguistics, it
continued to be regulated as if it were one of
the areas of linguistics. The linguistic sign
remained exemplary for semiology, it dominated it as the master-sign and as the generative
model: the pattern [patron].
One could therefore say that signs that are wholly arbitrary realize better than the others the
ideal of the semiological process; that is why language, the most complex and universal of all
systems of expression, is also the most characteristic; in this sense linguistics can become
the
master-pattern for all branches of
semiology although language is only one particular
semiological system (p. lor; italics added) [p. 68].
Consequently, reconsidering the order of dependence prescribed by Saussure, apparently
inverting the relationship of the part to the whole, Barthes in fact carries out the profoundest
intention of the Course:
From now on we must admit the possibility of reversing Saussure’s proposition some day:
linguistics is not a part, even if privileged, of the general science of signs, it is semiology that
is a part of linguistics.15
This coherent reversal, submitting semiology to a “translinguistics,” leads to its full
explication a linguistics historically dominated by logo-centric metaphysics, for which in fact
there is not and there should not be
((52))
“any meaning except as named” (ibid.). Dominated by the so-called “civilization of writing”
that we inhabit, a civilization of so-called phonetic writing, that is to say of the logos where
the sense of being is, in its telos, determined as parousia. The Barthesian reversal is fecund
and indispensable for the description of the fact and the vocation of signification within the
closure of this epoch and this civilization that is in the process of disappearing in its very
globalization.
Let us now try to go beyond these formal and architectonic considerations. Let us ask in a
more intrinsic and concrete way, how language is not merely a sort of writing, “comparable to
a system of writing” (p. 33) [p. 16] —Saussure writes curiously—but a species of writing. Or
rather, since writ-ing no longer relates to language as an extension or frontier, let us ask how
language is a possibility founded on the general possibility of writing. Demonstrating this,
one would give at the same time an account of that alleged “usurpation” which could not be
an unhappy accident. It supposes on the contrary a common root and thus excludes the
resemblance of the “image,” derivation, or representative reflexion. And thus one would bring
back to its true meaning, to its primary possibility, the apparently innocent and didactic
analogy which makes Saussure say:
Language is [comparable to] a system of signs that express ideas, and is therefore comparable
to writing, the alphabet of deaf-mutes, symbolic rites, polite formulas, military signals, etc.
But it is the most important of all these systems (p. 33; italics added) [p. 16].
Further, it is not by chance that, a hundred and thirty pages later, at the moment of explaining
phonic difference as the condition of linguistic value (“from a material viewpoint”), 16 he
must again borrow all his pedagogic resources from the example of writing:
Since an identical state of affairs is observable in writing, another system of signs, we shall
use writing to draw some comparisons that will clarify the whole issue (p.165) [p.119].
Four demonstrative items, borrowing pattern and content from writing, follow. 17