not necessary to be wary of that phrase) 8 only a designation of appurtenance and a
linguistico-social classification. The lifting of the interdict, the great game of denunciation
and the great exhibition of the “proper” (let us note that we speak here of an act of war and
there is much to say about the fact that it is little girls who open themselves to this game and
these hostilities) does not consist in revealing proper names, but in tearing the veil hiding a
classification and an appurtenance, the inscription within a system of linguistico-social
differences.
What the Nambikwara hid and the young girls lay bare through trans-gression, is no longer
the absolute idioms, but already varieties of invested common names, “abstracts” if, as we
read in The Savage Mind (p. 242) [p. 182], “systems of appellations also have their ‘abstracts.’
“
The concept of the proper name, unproblematized as Lévi-Strauss uses it in Tristes Tropiques,
is therefore far from being simple and manageable. Consequently, the same may be said of the
concepts of violence, ruse, perfidy, or oppression, that punctuate “A Writing Lesson” a little
further on. We have already noted that violence here does not unexpectedly break in all at
once, starting from an original innocence whose nakedness is surprised at the very moment
that the secret of the so-called proper names
((112))
is violated. The structure of violence is complex and its possibilitywriting—no less so.
There was in fact a first violence to be named. To name, to give names that it will on occasion
be forbidden to pronounce, such is the originary violence of language which consists in
inscribing within a difference, in classifying, in suspending the vocative absolute. To think the
unique within the system, to inscribe it there, such is the gesture of the arche-writing: arche-
violence, loss of the proper, of absolute proximity, of self-presence, in truth the loss of what
has never taken place, of a self-presence which has never been given but only dreamed of and
always already split, repeated, incapable of appearing to itself except in its own
disappearance. Out of this arche-violence, forbidden and therefore confirmed by a second
violence that is reparatory, protective, instituting the “moral,” prescribing the concealment of
writing and the effacement and obliteration of the so-called proper name which was already
dividing the proper, a third violence can possibly emerge or not (an empirical possibility)
within what is commonly called evil, war, indiscretion, rape; which consists of revealing by
effraction the so-called proper name, the originary violence which has severed the proper
from its property and its self-sameness [proprété]. We could name a third violence of
reflection, which denudes the native non-identity, classification as denaturation of the proper,
and identity as the abstract moment of the concept. It is on this tertiary level, that of the em-
pirical consciousness, that the common concept of violence (the system of the moral law and
of transgression) whose possibility remains yet un-thought, should no doubt be situated. The
scene of proper names is written on this level; as will be later the writing lesson.
This last violence is all the more complex in its structure because it refers at the same time to
the two inferior levels of arche-violence and of law. In effect, it reveals the first nomination
which was already an expropriation, but it denudes also that which since then functioned as
the proper, the so-called proper, substitute of the deferred proper, perceived by the social and
moral consciousness as the proper, the reassuring
seal of self-identity, the secret.
Empirical violence, war in the colloquial sense (ruse and perfidy of little girls,
apparent ruse
and perfidy of little girls, for the anthropologist will prove them innocent by showing himself
as the true and only culprit; ruse and perfidy of the Indian chief playing at the comedy of
writing, apparent ruse and perfidy of the Indian chief borrowing all his resources from the
Occidental intrusion), which Lévi-Strauss always thinks of as an accident. An accident
occurring, in his view, upon a terrain of innocence, in a “state of culture” whose natural
goodness had not yet been degraded. 9
Two pointers, seemingly anecdotal and belonging to the decor of the representation to come,
support this hypothesis that the “Writing Lesson” will
((113))
confirm. They announce the great staging of the “lesson” and show to advantage the art of the
composition of this travelogue. In accordance with eighteenth-century tradition, the anecdote,
the page of confessions, the fragment from a journal are knowledgeably put in place,
calculated for the purposes of a philosophical demonstration of the relationships between
nature and society, ideal society and real society, most often between the other society and our
society.
What is the first pointer? The battle of proper names follows the arrival of the foreigner and
that is not surprising. It is born in the presence and even from the presence of the
anthropologist who comes to disturb order and natural peace, the complicity which peacefully
binds the good society to itself in its play. Not only have the people of the Line imposed
ridiculous sobriquets on the natives, obliging them to assume these intrinsically (hare, sugar,
Cavaignac), but it is the anthropological eruption which breaks the secret of the proper names
and the innocent complicity governing the play of young girls. It is the anthropologist who
violates a virginal space so accurately connoted by the scene of a game and a game played by
little girls. The mere presence of the foreigner, the mere fact of his having his eyes open,
cannot not provoke a violation: the aside, the secret murmured in the ear, the successive
movements of the “stratagem,” the acceleration, the precipitation, a certain increasing
jubilation in the movement before the falling back which follows the consummated fault,
when the “sources” have “dried up,” makes us think of a dance and a fête as much as of war.
The mere presence of a spectator, then, is a violation. First a pure violation: a silent and
immobile foreigner attends a game of young girls. That one of them should have “struck” a
“comrade” is not yet true violence. No integrity has been breached. Violence appears only at
the moment when the intimacy of proper names can be opened to forced entry. And that is
possible only at the moment when the space is shaped and reoriented by the glance of the
foreigner. The eye of the other calls out the proper names, spells them out, and removes the
prohibition that covered them.
At first the anthropologist is satisfied merely to see. A fixed glance and a mute presence. Then
things get complicated, become more tortuous and labyrinthine, when he becomes a party to
the play of the rupture of play, as he lends an ear and broaches a first complicity with the
victim who is also the trickster. Finally, for what counts is the names of the adults (one could
say the eponyms and the secret is violated only in the place where the names are attributed),
the ultimate denunciation can no longer do with-out the active intervention of the foreigner.
Who, moreover, claims to have intervened and accuses himself of it. He has seen, then heard;
but, passive in the face of what he already knew he was provoking, he still waited to hear the