After the second week and the juices are more or less dripping from my mouth as if i�ve been infected with rabies:
here we stand.
there�s blanchot and the nothing (i feel as if i�m repeating myself from my other journals; constantly re-fracturing it, re-saying it, whatever it would be at the time until it sinks down out of my dreams as i think i dreamed about this last night, or have been overall of all my courses) of writing, the futility of saying what one means and meaning what one says, as if i do experience it (somewhat) in this way, but not exactly, or have lost it?
Then again the whole idea as writing as this path to hell is a bit romantic in itself.
Despite what deleuze and guattari (via joris) would like us to believe about kafka (one heck of a party guy) i find it hard to disavow the previous (conflicting) knowledge (if it can be called that at this point) of kafka teeter totting on the verge of madness (memorial note: elam listing off nietzsche as having infected himself with syphilis, amongst other mad writers).
Returning to blitz�s statement: �..how what one knows knowledge and what knowledge is. (somewhat)�
is this what he meant? Is there such a thing as a fully functional integrated body of knowledge that is coherent to itself? Or should i think of it as a relation, a parody of my own body, that the whole thing sits there (and farts around), with different textures and different kinds of limbs and extensions that sometimes seem to have a mind of their own?
This appears to me to run back to the saussurean idea of an overall (if now unseen) structure?
Also an interesting query: the removal of the personal (I) into the impersonal (he) as stated by blanchot and practiced by auster (as in the invention of solitude, how obvious now; and in the new york trilogy), is this what i�m doing in referring to myself as you (addressing myself, a reflective activity to verify that i am, and am at an end of this, no?)
But the idea presented by joris (via, supposedly, by deleuze and guattari, but i haven�t seen it yet) that we are an accumulation of everything in our writing and that�s ok for that to end up there (to paraphrase joris: �that it�s okay to use more than one language� language ranging anywhere from different tongues to dialects to other even mediums)
joris: what makes d&g so fascinating is that they leave behind, break the two major discourse, ways of approach to literature, the psychoanalytical (freud) and the socialistic (marx) and offer us something wholly different: the author, his work, his diaries, his letters, his life and the life around him: an intertexuality of his life, an interpretation that weaves and is based on the weaving, the texture of his life(/)work as a whole.
which in a sense, leaves us back to blanchot: the writer never realizes his work: he dies before the work is finished. is then criticism also a part of the work?