In addition, Saussure introduces another massive limitation: “I shall limit discussion to the
phonetic system and especially to the one used today, the system that stems from the Greek
alphabet” (p. 48) [p. 26].
These two limitations are all the more reassuring because they are just what we need at a
specific point to fulfill the most legitimate of exigencies; in fact, the condition for the
scientificity of linguistics is that the field of linguistics have hard and fast frontiers, that it be a
system regulated by an internal necessity, and that in a certain way its structure be closed. The
representativist concept of writing facilitates things. If writing is nothing but the “figuration”
(p. 44) [p. 23] of the language, one has the right to exclude it from the interiority of the
system (for it must be believed that there is an inside of the language), as the image may be
excluded without damage from the system of reality. Proposing as his theme “the repre-
sentation of language by writing” Saussure thus begins by positing that writing is “unrelated
to [the] ... inner system” of language (p. 44), [p. 23]. External/internal, image/reality,
representation/presence, such is the old grid to which is given the task of outlining the domain
of a science. And of what science? Of a science that can no longer answer to the classical con-
cept of the epistémè because the originality of its field—an originality that it inaugurates-is
that the opening of the “image” within it appears as the condition of “reality;” a relationship
that can no longer be thought within the simple difference and the uncompromising exteriority
of “image” and “reality,” of “outside” and “inside,” of “appearance” and “essence,” with the
entire system of oppositions which necessarily follows from it. Plato, who said basically the
same thing about the relationship between writing, speech, and being (or idea), had at least a
more subtle, more critical, and less complacent theory of image, painting, and imitation than
the one that presides over the birth of Saussurian linguistics.
It is not by chance that the exclusive consideration of phonetic writing permits a response to
the exigencies of the “internal system.” The basic functional principle of phonetic writing is
precisely to respect and protect
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the integrity of the “internal system” of the language, even if in fact it does not succeed in
doing so.
The Saussurian limitation does not respond, by a mere happy convenience, to the
scientific exigency of the “internal sys
tem.” That exigency is itself constituted, as the
epistemological exigency in general, by the very possibility of phonetic writing and by the
exteriority of the “notation” to internal logic.
But let us not simplify: on that point Saussure too is not quite complacent. Why else would he
give so much attention to that external phenomenon, that exiled figuration, that outside, that
double? Why does he judge it impossible “to simply disregard” [literally “make abstraction
of”] what is nevertheless designated as the abstract itself with respect to the inside of
language? “Writing, though unrelated to its inner system, is used continually to represent
language. We cannot simply disregard it. We must be acquainted with its usefulness,
shortcomings, and dangers” (p. 44) [P. 23]•
Writing would thus have the exteriority that one attributes to utensils; to what is even an
imperfect tool and a dangerous, almost maleficent, technique. One understands better why,
instead of treating this exterior figuration in an appendix or marginally, Saussure devotes so
laborious a chapter to it almost at the beginning of the Course. It is less a question of outlining
than of protecting, and even of restoring the internal system of the language in the purity of its
concept against the gravest, most perfidious, most permanent contamination which has not
ceased to menace, even to corrupt that system, in the course of what Saussure strongly wishes,
in spite of all opposition, to consider as an external history, as a series of accidents affecting
the language and befalling it from without, at the moment of “notation” (p. 45) [p. 24], as if
writing began and ended with notation. Already in the Phaedrus, Plato says that the evil of
writing comes from without (275a). The contamination by writing, the fact or the threat of it,
are denounced in the accents of the moralist or preacher by the linguist from Geneva. The
tone counts; it is as if, at the moment when the modern science of the logos would come into
its autonomy and its scientificity, it became necessary again to attack a heresy. This tone
began to make itself heard when, at the moment of already tying the epistémé and the logos
within the same possibility, the Phaedrus denounced writing as the intrusion of an artful
technique, a forced entry of a totally original sort, an archetypal violence: eruption of the
outside within the
inside, breaching into the interiority of the soul, the living self-presence of
the soul within the true logos, the help that speech lends to itself. Thus incensed, Saussure’s
vehement argumentation aims at more than a theoretical error, more than a moral fault: at a
sort of stain and primarily at a sin. Sin has been defined often—among others by Malebranche
and by Kant—as the inversion of the natural relationship between the soul and the body
through bassion. Saussure here points at the inversion of the natural relationship
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between speech and writing. It is not a simple analogy: writing, the letter, the sensible
inscription, has always been considered by Western tradition as the body and matter external
to the spirit, to breath, to speech, and to the logos. And the problem of soul and body is no
doubt derived from the problem of writing from which it seems—conversely—to borrow its
metaphors.
Writing, sensible matter and artificial exteriority: a “clothing.” It has sometimes been
contested that speech clothed thought. Husserl, Saussure, Lavelle have all questioned it. But
has it ever been doubted that writing was the clothing of speech? For Saussure it is even a
garment of perversion and debauchery, a dress of corruption and disguise, a festival mask that
must be exorcised, that is to say warded off, by the good word: “Writing veils the appearance
of language; it is not a guise for language but a dis-guise” (p. 51) [p. 3o]. Strange “image.”
One already suspects that if writing is “image” and exterior “figuration,” this “representation”
is not innocent. The outside bears with the inside a relationship that is, as usual, anything but
simple exteriority. The meaning of the outside was always present within the inside,
imprisoned outside the outside, and vice versa.
Thus a science of language must recover the natural—that is, the simple and original—
relationships between speech and writing, that is, between an inside and an outside. It must
restore its absolute youth, and the purity of its origin, short of a history and a fall which would
have perverted the relationships between outside and inside. Therefore there would be a
natural order of relationships between linguistic and graphic signs, and it is the theoretician
of the arbitrariness of the sign who reminds us of it. According to the historico-metaphysical
presuppositions evoked above, there would be first a natural bond of sense to the senses and
it is this that passes from sense to sound: “the natural bond,” Saussure says, “the only true
bond, the bond of sound” (p. 46 [p. 25]. This natural bond of the signified (concept or sense)
to the phonic signifier would condition the natural relationship subordinating writing (visible
image) to speech. It is this natural relation-ship that would have been inverted by the original
sin of writing: “The graphic form [image] manages to force itself upon them at the expense of