metaphysical appurtenance. We know, however, that the thematics of the sign have been for
about a century the agonized labor of a tradition that professed to withdraw meaning, truth,
presence, being, etc., from the movement of signification. Treating as suspect, as I just have,
the difference between signified and signifier, or the idea of the sign in general, I must state
explicitly that it is not a question of doing so in terms of the in-stance of the present truth,
anterior, exterior or superior to the sign, or in terms of the place of the effaced difference.
Quite the contrary. We are dis-turbed by that which, in the concept of the sign—which has
never existed or functioned outside the history of (the) philosophy (of presence)—remains
systematically and genealogically determined by that history. It is there that the concept and
above all the work of deconstruction, its “style,” re-main by nature exposed to
misunderstanding and nonrecognition.
The exteriority of the signifier is the exteriority of writing in general, and I shall try to show
later that there is no linguistic sign before writing. Without that exteriority, the very idea of
the sign falls into decay. Since our entire world and language would collapse with it, and since
its evidence and its value keep, to a certain point of derivation, an indestructible solidity, it
would be silly to conclude from its placement within an epoch that it is necessary to “move on
to something else,” to dispose of the sign, of the term and the notion. For a proper
understanding of the gesture that we are sketching here, one must understand the expressions
“epoch,” “closure of an epoch,” “historical genealogy” in a new way; and must first remove
them from all relativism.
Thus, within this epoch, reading and writing, the production or interpretation of signs, the text
in general as fabric of signs, allow themselves to be confined within secondariness. They are
preceded by a truth, or a mean-ing already constituted by and within the element of the logos.
Even when
((15))
the thing, the “referent,” is not immediately related to the logos of a creator God where it
began by being the spoken/thought sense, the signified has at any rate an immediate
relationship with the logos in general (finite or infinite), and a mediated one with the signifier,
that is to say with the exteriority of writing. ‘When it seems to go otherwise, it is because a
metaphoric mediation has insinuated itself into the relationship and has simulated immediacy;
the writing of truth in the soul, opposed by Phaedrus (z78a) to bad writing (writing in the
“literal” [pro pre] and ordinary sense, “sensible” writing, “in space”), the book of Nature and
God’s writing, especially in the Middle Ages; all that functions as metaphor in these
discourses confirms the privilege of the logos and founds the “literal” meaning then given to
writing: a sign signifying a signifier itself signifying an eternal verity, eternally thought and
spoken in the proximity of a present logos. The paradox to which attention must be paid is
this: natural and universal writing, intelligible and nontemporal writing, is thus named by
metaphor. A writing that is sensible, finite, and so on, is designated as writing in the literal
sense; it is thus thought on the side of culture, technique, and artifice; a human procedure, the
ruse of a being accidentally incarnated or of a finite creature. Of course, this metaphor
remains enigmatic and refers to a “literal” meaning of writing as the first metaphor. This
“literal” mean-ing is yet unthought by the adherents of this discourse. It is not, therefore, a
matter of inverting the literal meaning and the figurative meaning but of determining the
“literal” meaning of writing as metaphoricity itself.
In “The Symbolism of the Book,” that excellent chapter of
European Literature and the Latin
Middle Ages, E. R. Curtius describes with great wealth of examples the evolution that led
from the Phaedrus to Calderon, until it seemed to be “precisely the reverse” (tr. fr. p. 372) *
by the “newly attained position of the book” (p. 374) [p. 306]. But it seems that this
modification, however important in fact it might be, conceals a fundamental continuity. As
was the case with the Platonic writing of the truth in the soul, in the Middle Ages too it is a
writing understood in the metaphoric sense, that is to say a natural, eternal, and universal
writing, the system of signified truth, which is recognized in its dignity. As in the Phaedrus, a
certain fallen writing continues to be opposed to it. There remains to be written a history of
this metaphor, a metaphor that systematically contrasts divine or natural writing and the
human and laborious, finite and artificial inscription. It remains to articulate rigorously the
stages of that history, as marked by the quotations below, and to follow the
xxx fotnote start xxx
•
Ernst Robert Curtius, „Das Buch als Symbol,“ Europäische Literatur and lateinisches
Mittelalter (Bern, 1948), p. 307. French translation by Jean Bréjoux (Paris, 1956) : translated
as European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, by Willard R. Trask, Harper Torchbooks
edition (New York, 1963), pp. 305, 306.
xxx fotnote slutt xxx
((16))
theme of God’s book (nature or law, indeed natural law) through all its modifications.
Rabbi Eliezer said: “If all the seas were of ink, and
all ponds planted with reeds, if the sky and
the earth were parchments and if all human beings practised the art of writing—they would
not exhaust the Torah I have learned, just as the Torah itself would not be diminished any
more than is the sea by the water removed by a paint brush dipped in it.” 7
Galileo: “It [the book of Nature] is written in a mathematical language.” *
Descartes: “. . . to read in the great book of Nature ...” **
Demea, in the name of natural religion, in the Dialogues, . . . of Hume: “And this volume of
nature contains a great and inexplicable riddle, more than any intelligible discourse or
reasoning.” ***
Bonnet: “It would seem more philosophical to me to presume that our earth is a book that God
has given to intelligences far superior to ours to read, and where they study in depth the
infinitely multiplied and varied characters of His adorable wisdom.”
G. H. von Schubert: “This language made of images and hieroglyphs, which supreme Wisdom
uses in all its revelations to humanity—which is found in the inferior [nieder] language of
poetry—and which, in the most inferior and imperfect way [auf der allerniedrigsten and
unvollkommensten], is more like the metaphorical expression of the dream than the prose of
wakefulness, .. . we may wonder if this language is not the true and wakeful language of the
superior regions. If, when we consider ourselves awakened, we are not plunged in a millennial
slumber, or at least in the echo of its dreams, where we only perceive a few isolated and