clamor Books

In the 1970s Harold Bloom focused on poetic misprision. This is the intentional or unconscious misunderstanding of a master, poetic or philosophical, who has occupied so much ground that s/he must be distorted in order to create a space for the follower. This distortion, named in the most basic form (after Lucretius) clinamen -- the swerve -- misrepresents the parent text, allowing the subsequent to proclaim a mastery over the parodic picture presented as the original. While Badiou is very important, smart, and interesting in his own right, this re-packaging of Deleuze is a projection of his own program's need for "Lebensraum." While Badiou does not give us Deleuze's own letters to him (perhaps out of "respect"?), he usually quotes D out of context and by leaping from work to work to create a pastiche of the Deleuze he wishes to construct. Even the bit used for his title -- the clamor of being - is only part of the sentence without its modification and ripped from a two page paragraph. All this is interesting but not high fidelity: read it like an Oedipal assault or like Griswold's treatment of Poe. However, I do not think it is a fair, accurate, or even valid treatment of Deleuze.

I wish to concur with the first reviewer on the intelligence and importance of this volume.

I also wish to suggest that there is a downside to it, namely that Badiou vastly underestimates the work Deleuze did with Guattari, and seems to underestimate the importance of this work for Deleuze himself. Insofar as there is a classical philosophical side to Gilles, there is also a thoroughly anarchistic, antiphilosophical, schitzophrenic side, which must not be underestimated, and which often leads him to talk about things he does not totally grasp. This side to Deleuze is underplayed by Badiou who largely attempts to sanitize Deleuze, to rehabilitate him into the core of continental philosophy and disregard, to a certain extent, that Deleuze himself would

Badiou's attempt is not misguided; on the contrary, it is largely correct. Deleuze occasionally becomes the most analytical French thinker of his generation (see his Nietzsche and Philosophy, for example), writing only too clearly and consistently. Badiou reads this way of thinking correctly, understanding it as indicative of Deleuze's relationship to his intellectual genealogy and environment.

Nonetheless, Badiou's attempt is insufficient and incomplete. So, unless you are trying to fit Deleuze into the straightjacket of the more classical philosophical tradition (as opposed to, perhaps, a more postmodern one), you should be advised against considering it your only guide to his work. On the other hand, if you are trying to erase any connections between Deleuze and his "predecessors," and insist on his "wacky" side as "cool," be advised to return to this book again and again, as well as to return to the traditions he emerged from, an emergence to which this is a fairly good guide.

In any case, read this book. You'll learn a lot. And you'll fight with it a lot, only to come out much improved, and not only insofar as reading Deleuze is concerned.

To begin, i should note that prior to reading Badiou's book, much of Deleuze's earlier work had remained mysterious to myself. Thus, i am not in much of a position to offer any real challenge to Badiou's interpretation of "Difference and Repetition" and "The Logic of Sense." Regardless, if nothing else, the interpretation that Badiou gives is clearly presented. Although this sounds trivial, the clarity in this book is appreciated in a genre where clarity if usually disregarded, and unfortunately, often for mere stylistic (and not philosophical) reasons. Thus, because of this "Deleuze: The Clamor of Being," although dealing with difficult topics, can be understood by anybody with some knowledge of Deleuze, even if this knowledge is not extensive.

The clarity of the presentation, however, almost seems too obvious. That is, the way in which Badiou describes Deleuze's "philosophy of the One," and the quotes that he extracts to demonstrate this claim, make this thesis to be obvious to anybody who has read Deleuze. However, clearly this is not the case, as Badiou himself recognizes that this book should shock those who take pride in Deleuze's "schizophrenic" aspect. Thus, merely taking Badiou's interpretation of Deleuze, and the fact that so many thinkers have overlooked what he presents as information that should be clear to any reader, this gives me the uneasy feeling that he, and not these other thinkers, has missed something fundamental in Deleuze's thought. This, of course, necessitates a re-reading of Deleuze's own work, something that "Deleuze: The Clamor of Being" necessitates, i believe, for anybody who overlooked the first time around what Badiou reveals as self-evident to any acute reader.

As a previous reviewer pointed out, Badiou gives little interest to Deleuze's work with Guattari. However, although there definitely is a schizophrenic aspect to this work (especially in "A Thousand Plateaus"), it seems as if the fundamental concept of the Body Without Organs corresponds in most, if not all, ways to the concept of the virtual/ the One. Badiou does occasionally use ideas expressed in Deleuze's work with Guattari, especially "What is Philosophy" concerning the status of philosophy, however, he fails to cite these sources.

Additionally, it seems to me as if the interpretation that Badiou gives to Deleuze's work indicates more of a pantheistic vision that one that indicates transcendence. Of course, there is a bit of irony to write that Deleuze has "transposed transcendence beneath the simulacra of the world, in some sort of symmetrical relation to the `beyond' of classical transcendence," but regardless of the irony, the very idea of Being as univocal and as One chimes much more with eastern worldviews than western Platonic and Christian ideas of transcendence. This especially seems to be the case when we consider Deleuze's work with Guattari in which all strata (that is, all different properties of the world that surrounds us) are merely "coagulations, slowing-downs on the Body without Organs."

Finally, even if Deleuze's ontology indicates "heirarchical thought," this doesn't mean that Deleuze's task, therefore, is to "submit thought to a renewed concept of the One." In fact, it seems to me as if there is a crucial distinction in his work with Guattari between "methodological" claims and ontological claims. Rather than encouraging us to employ reductionist schemas in our analyses of any given system, the very title "a thousand plateas" indicates that we need to take into account as many different aspects at work as possible-- biological, economical, polotical, geological, etc. (this distinction between a methodology of multiple aspects of reality and an ontological expressing only One fundamental reality is continued in Manual Delanda's appropriation of Deleuze and Guattari's thought in "A Thousand Years of Nonlinear History.")

Despite these further considerations that would have been made necessicary had Badiou taken into account Deleuze's work with Guattari, "Deleuze: The Clamor of Being" provides a tremendously useful, and strikingly clear, interpretation of Deleuze's independent work to the point that it necessitates a re-reading of this work.

I urge anyone interested in Deleuze to read this book, which is a interesting critical assessment of G.D.'s thought. Deleuze would be flattered and irritated to see his work read as he has read other thinkers. Badiou transforms Deleuze's work into that which it was not, while ever maintaining the singularity of Badiou's own project. Suggestive but polemical Alain Badiou struggles to step from out of the shadow of his only true precusor -- he admits as much in the introduction. In a move that should make Harold Bloom proud, Badiou produces a "strong misprison" of Deleuze's work, casting him in the ranks of a crypto-theo-philosopher. Taking a great many cues from Phenomenology and the "Theological Turn" by Dominique Janicaud, who compared Badiou's L'etre et l'evenement to Being and Time, Badiou is more interested in reducing Deleuze and his work to a form ascesis. A reduction that shifts the points of engagement between Badiou and his most formidable precusor away from mathematics and the idea of the multiple to nothing more -- and little else -- than a kindly father confessor is a strategic move that may render "his" Anti-Oedipus blind and pious, but defies the logic of sense.

Postmodernism. What are we supposed to make of the stuff? It's all written in a stream of consciousness style by obsessive compulsives. And most of their arguments are circular and utterly unconcerned with facts. Well, here's the best start. Badiou explains everything Deleuze wrote on his own simply and coherently, which many of Deleuze's disciples do not. And best of all, he doesn't do it in a superior, combative tone. He even explains why Deleuze's disciples are all so combative and superior. (Something to do with cynicism on Deleuze's part.)

Though I will say, if you're a science studies type and you're rigorous in your thought, you'd best do to steer clear of this book. Because your rigor usually comes from willfull blindess.

Caveat to any scientific types: Badiou is an unabashed vitalist. I don't know what his defense here is. The way they usually defend themselves sounds a lot like that line "If I have a choice between the state and my friend, I hope I have the good sense to choose my friend." That is, he appeals to raw uninterpretable first-person experience over third person points of view. With the fact that the Flynn effect remains unexplained and preformationism has turned out right (all life is, literally, is just the result of folds in DNA), this may not be such a bad thing.

Now for fun, once you've read this book, you can read Derrida's Postcard and see why it's one of the most compulsively amusing books ever written. (The difference between Deleuze and Derrida? Derrida is flat-out hilarious and provides the raw uninterpretable experience that he describes.)

May Wright Sewall was one of a rare breed of talented individuals able to make unique contributions to American society in numerous fields: education, civic improvement, women's rights, and pacifism. Born in 1844 during an era when women were first making inroads into higher education, she was well educated in the classical tradition. From modest beginnings as a teacher in a one-room Wisconsin school, she became one of the leading citizens of Indianapolis and founder-with her husband Theodore-of the Girls' Classical School. Possessing formidable organizational skills, Sewall helped found many of Indianapolis's enduring organizations: the Indianapolis Woman's Club, the Art Association of Indianapolis, the Indianapolis Propylaeum, and the Contemporary Club. Hoosier author Booth Tarkington named her, along with Benjamin Harrison and James Whitcomb Riley, as one of Indianapolis's most prominent citizens. Sewall also worked tirelessly on behalf of rights for women in the United States-and around the world-during the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. She served as an invaluable ally to such national suffrage leaders as Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton and gave the woman's movement an international focus through her pioneering involvement with the International Council of Women and the American National Council of Women. Undaunted by the sneers of skeptics, late in her life Sewall dared to explore a new field: the land beyond the grave. She detailed her fascinating experiences with spiritualism in Neither Dead nor Sleeping, excerpts from which are included in this book.

I can't decide whether this is a book about Sri Lanka, although that country's name is never mentioned, or about some fantastical country concocted in the author's mind. The geographical and historical references about the Indian subcontinent are there, but the characters act like decadent Westerners questioning their angst and indulging their fleshy desires. The writing flows well enough, but is wasted on a plot that is contrived and awkward at best.

A well written novel. It is engaging. It is not fast paced, but it also does not plod. As a previous reviewer stated, if you are looking for someone to cheer for, this is not the book. Initially, the ending of the novel was frustrating too me. However, as I have thought since about the book, I have been fascinated by the open-endedness and the ambiguity. Sometimes life doesn't have heroes. Sometimes individuals feel like they are forced to choose one side or another, with both sides being unsatisfying. This book captures this dilemma.

This is the first novel by Neil Bissoondath that I've read. "The Unyielding Clamor of the Night" is a difficult story to embrace. It is an eye-opener to what the experience must be like for many who live in third-world countries with oppressive dictatorships and age-old racial rivalries. Loosely based on Sri Lanka, Bissoondath follows a young man named Arun whose family runs a wealthy printing business in the capital. Arun announces to his family that he does not wish to take over the family business, leaving it for his sister Joy & brother-in-law Surein. Both Arun's father and mother become fatalities of a bomb on a small airplane. This leads Arun to follow his dream to become a teacher. He travels to the southern poorer part of the country to a town called Omeara. As the new teacher, he finds an uphill battle to acceptance. Few students show up for school. The ones who come have arms missing or are learning disabled. Arun makes friends with the mayor of the town who hired him, the butcher and his family. Mr. Jaisaram has a wife who has vowed to remain silent. His daughter Anjani is a beautiful free spirit who has education but does not like to conform. Arun and Anjani become good friends, with Anjani warning him of the limits of her attraction. We learn that Anjani has had an affair with another female student that caused her to be expelled from the school in the capital and sent home to the South. Still, one night Anjani comes to Arun who loses his virginity. Arun has a plastic prosthesis for a congenital withered leg that was eventually amputated. He overcomes his doubts about his self-image and gives in to the lovely Anjani. Meanwhile political events swirl about the story. The army has a camp outside of town and runs maneuvers in the mountains for a group of rebels called "the Boys." An unknown bomb maker blows up a bus on market day, raining hands and legs over the small village. One morning dead dogs are discovered killed and mutilated along with one man executed by the Boys. The army storms into town looking for rebels. For a novel that is often cerebral inside Arun's mind, there are a number of exciting events that occur. Arun begins to teach the soldiers at the camp and develops a friendship with a young officer named Seth. There are a number of secrets within this small town that peel off like layers of an onion.

However Bissoondath takes a major risk because it is very hard to understand or like characters who resort to terrorism. With Anjani's death, we learn who the bombmaker is just as Arun learns the true causes of his parents' death. We are presented with a third-world society where no one's hands are clean. Education and social stratification vie with the notion that in war the end must justify the means. As Arun's good friend Seth sits on the platform waiting for the train that will soon take him home to meet his new son, the book ends with a bang. After spending so much time with these characters and getting a glimpse into a hard existence, it is sad that Bissoondath leaves no one for whom we can cheer. Neil's prose at first struck me as overly wordy, but eventually I came to enjoy his lyrical descriptions of the beach, town & life of people in Omeara. When both the government and those who oppose them are ruthless, does "terrorist" simply become a title one gives to an opponent? I appreciated my journey through this world, but found the ending as disturbing as the novel was enjoyable. If you're the kind of reader who needs a good guy for whom to cheer, this will not be your cup of tea. However, if you enjoy gritty adventure about characters for whom violence may be the only voice of protest available, this may help us understand why much of our world today is rocked by explosions.

Arun has left his privileged home on a Southeast Asian island to teach in an area where a civil war is tearing apart daily village life. Motivated by idealism, Arun adopts a life of poverty and dedicates himself to improving the lives of others, but even his optimism and hopes are shattered by problems trying to educate the village's children, and when the war hits too close to home he must confront long-buried secrets and assess his life anew. A stark, evocative novel of goodwill and war evolves.

Diane C. Donovan
California Bookwatch