Fall 1999 Cyberseminar in Objectivist Studies:
"The Continental Origins of Postmodernism"

Week 10: November 15-21

Michal Fram-Cohen's Review
of Jacques Derrida's
"Structure, Sign and Discourse in the Human Sciences"

To: TOC Cyberseminar <cybersem@objectivistcenter.org>

Sent: Wednesday, November 17, 1999 10:53 PM

Subject: Cyberseminar: MFC Derrida Review [Chapter 10]

[From: Michal Fram Cohen ]

DECONSTRUCTING DERRIDA:
REVIEW OF "STRUCTURE, SIGN AND DISCOURSE IN THE HUMAN SCIENCES"

By Michal Fram-Cohen

** Introduction **

The first impulse a reader is likely to have upon starting to read chapter
10 is to close the book in dismay and disgust. The sentences appear to
become increasingly entangled, to lead nowhere and ultimately to add up to
nothing. However, Derrida's spectacular success in the academic world
requires an explanation. A philosophic detection of Derrida's text must
assume that words have meaning and that he has a purpose in mind,
as much as he attempts to camouflage it. (My own comments are presented as
questions or are in parenthesis.)

Derrida sets up the scene for this text right away in the quote from
Montaigne: "We need to interpret interpretations more than to interpret
things." (278) His focus is directed inward, at the workings of our minds,
away from the objects our minds are supposed to interpret. The need for an
interpretation of interpretation implies a paradox, because the "higher"
interpretation also needs to be interpreted by an even "higher"
interpretation that also needs to be interpreted, and so on to infinity. The
quote already prepares the reader for a self-conscious, torturously abstract
reading.

** Deconstructing Structure and Sign to Make Room for Play **

Derrida begins his text with a reference to a recent event in the history of
the concept of structure, but immediately retreats to question the use of
the word "event." He is concerned that the word "event" is too loaded with
meaning. Why is this a problem? Because the function of thinking about
structure is to reduce the notion of events. Why is it so? Because
thinking about structure must be abstract and exclude concretes such as
events. Still, Derrida wants to report on something that happened, which is
relevant to the concept of structure, so he allows the event to be admitted
into the discussion, provided it is enclosed in quotation marks, as a word
and not an actual event. The event is now identified as that of "rupture"
and "redoubling." Of what? The reader will not find out until the end of
the essay: "The appearance of a new structure, of an original system, always
comes about - and this is the very condition of its structural specificity -
by a rupture with its past, its origin, and its cause." (290) Then this is
what has recently happened in the history of the concept of structure: a
nascent structure is struggling to be born out of the old one, and it
collides with the old structure - its origin and cause. The reader, however,
is still in the beginning of the essay and has no clue what the rupture is
about.

Back in the beginning of the essay, Derrida proceeds to talk about the
center of a structure, which controls the structure by orienting and
organizing it. Derrida admits that an unorganized structure is
unconceivable and that a structure without a center is unthinkable, but he
is contends that the center delimits and diminishes the possible play within
the structure. Play, then, is whatever goes against the organization and
coherence of the structure. Derrida now points out the paradox that the
center of the structure must be both inside and outside the structure. It
must be a part of the structure, but also independent of it, in order to
control it. Derrida appears to delight in refuting the Law of Identity. He
exclaims that since the center is both inside and outside the structure,
"the center is not the center." (279) Nevertheless, he continues to write
about the center, confident that it can exist and function while not being
itself. So much for Aristotle in Derrida's esteem.

Next Derrida surveys the entire history of the concept of structure, up to
the recent,
still-mysterious, rupture, as a series of substituting one center for
another. Never was there a structure without a center, full of nothing but
play. What types of centers were there so far? Derrida names a few:
essence, existence, substance, subject, consciousness, God, man. The
structure, then, is not just any structure, but a structure of concepts,
that is, philosophy, with one central concept that controls it. According
to Derrida, the event of the rupture occurred when there was a disruption in
the series of substituting one center for another. (In plain English, there
was a disruption in the process of changing the central concept of the
prevalent philosophy.) This disruption occurred when the very idea of the
structurality of the structure became the subject of somebody's thought.
(Somebody, probably a philosopher, was rethinking the very notion of the
center and then there was no new center to substitute the old one.) However,
according to Derrida, a center cannot substitute itself, it cannot be
repeated. The old center could not stay and there was no new one. Then, for
the first time in the history of structure, "it was necessary to begin
thinking that there was no center." Instead, "an infinite number of
sign-substitutions came into play." (280) In the absence of a center, play
finally had its chance. What does play consist of? Derrida describes how,
once there was no center, language invaded the scene and everything became
discourse. (Instead of a structure of concepts, philosophy, there was only
a collection of signs, language.) The signified became indistinguishable
from the signifier, and the play became "a play of signification." Signs,
that is, words could have any meaning, in a boundless, infinite play.

In a half-hearted admission of historical events, Derrida's points out
several individuals who contributed to the historical elimination of the
center (who must have been the ones to rethink the notion of the center.)
Nietzsche's critique of the concepts of "being" and "truth", Freud's
critique of self-presence, consciousness, self-identity and the subject
himself and finally, Heidegger's radical destruction of metaphysics. Still,
Derrida stops short of embracing Nihilism. He admits that it is impossible
to destroy a concept without using it. It is impossible to pronounce a
proposition without using the form, the logic and the postulations of what
it attempts to contest. He points out that signs must signify something.
Once the signified is eliminated, the very notion of signs must be rejected
as well. The endless, boundless play is over. Why is Derrida concerned
about saving the distinction between the sign and what it signifies?
Because "we cannot do without the concept of the sign, for we cannot give up
this metaphysical complicity without also giving up the critique we are
directing against this complicity." (281) Like Prometheus, who was not
allowed to die so that the eagle could keep eating his liver, the sign has
to be kept in existence in order to keep being critiqued. The ugly face of
Deconstruction finally shows itself. Derrida is characteristically blunt
about the paradox that the metaphysical reduction of the sign needs what it
is reducing. He goes further to say that Nietzsche, Freud and Heidegger
could destroy each other only because they worked within an inherited system
of metaphysics. They inherited enough of what to destroy.

** Incest, Myth and Music in the Discourse of the Human Sciences **

At this point, Derrida asks: "What is the relevance of this formal scheme
when we turn to what are called the 'human sciences'"? (282) (Indeed, how
can philosophy and language be relevant to the human sciences once they are
deconstructed?) Derrida brings up ethnology as the human science that can
benefit from his discussion in part one. He draws out a parallel between
the history of ethnology and the history of the concept of structure.
Ethnology emerged as a science when European culture lost its ethnocentric
notion of itself - when the central idea in Western culture, ethnocentrism,
lost its control over Western culture. The critique of European
ethnocentrism coincided with the destruction of the inherited metaphysics by
Nietzsche, Freud and Heidegger. Ethnology is caught up in a similar paradox
as the metaphysics of deconstruction. It depends on that which it seeks to
destroy. It originated in Europe and uses European concepts, but it
attempts to destroy the notion of European ethnocentrism. There is no
escaping the paradox: "The ethnologist accepts into his discourse the
premises of ethnocentrism at the very moment when he denounces them." (282)
This deterministic conclusion should be sufficient to invalidate ethnology
as a science, but Derrida defies this paradox and continues to write about
ethnology.

At this point Derrida brings up the opposition between nature and culture,
which is an ancient philosophical issue. He uses the ethnological writings
of Claude Levi-Strauss as an example of the study of this opposition.
Levi-Strauss discovered a scandalous paradox inherent in the nature/culture
opposition. The taboo on incest, as Levi-Strauss observed, was both natural
and cultural: It was a universal taboo, not particular to a specific
culture, but still a part of each culture. The problem, obviously, is not
with the taboo on incest, but with Levi-Strauss's interpretation of its
universality as "natural." As Will Thomas observed in his essay, the
natural and the universal are not synonymous. Still, Derrida uses this
"paradox" in order to commend Levi-Strauss for continuing to use the
nature/culture opposition in his ethnological studies while criticizing its
inherent paradox. This is an example of deconstruction, which must continue
to use what it is deconstructing. The "scandal" of this paradox is like a
storm in a teacup, but it is sufficient for Derrida to require that the
nature/culture opposition be questioned. Derrida proceeds to claim that once
the opposition between nature and culture is questioned, there is no way to
separate nature and culture, and they become indistinguishable. Another
successful deconstruction has taken place.

At this point, Derrida proceeds to search for the origin, or originator, of
language. In a conglomeration of linguistic musings, he hypothesizes that if
there was such an originator, he must be a myth, because he would be "the
absolute origin of his own discourse and supposedly would construct it 'out
of nothing.'" (285) However, Derrida admitted before that signs could not
exist independently of what they signify. The logical conclusion would be
that language did not come into existence out of nothing, but was preceded
by the concepts it was about to name. In Objectivist terms, man developed a
conceptual capacity before he developed language. Nevertheless, Derrida
continues to use Levi-Strauss's writings to explain that language was
preceded and created by mythology. He describes mythology as a structure
with no center, that is, no origin or cause. But wasn't "center" defined
before as an overruling concept, which mythology certainly has? In an
application of the deconstructing play, the meaning of the word "center" has
shifted to "origin." The origin of mythology is indeed unknown, which
qualifies it as a center-less structure. Similarly, the musical works of the
archaic societies studied by Levi-Strauss have no known composers, so music
qualifies as a center-less structure as well. In another shift of the
meaning of "origin," Derrida quotes Levi-Strauss's claim that the audience
of a musical performance is like "a silent performer," so the origin of the
music is indeterminate. It is in the conductor, the performers and the
audience, everywhere and nowhere. The reader may think that mythology and
music still have an overruling concept, they have a meaning, but once they
are defined as center-less, their meaning is doomed to be deconstructed as
well: "'Music and mythology bring man face to face with potential objects of
which only the shadows are actualized.'" (287)

After stating that the mythological discourse has no center, Derrida leaps
to the conclusion that the philosophical or epistemological requirements of
a center appear as no more than a historical illusion. Philosophy never had
a real center, only an illusionary one, because it depends on language,
which depends on mythology, which never had a center. Again, Derrida
recoils from the inevitable Nihilism of this conclusion. He prefers to
leave open the question of the relationship between philosophy and
mythology, so that philosophy may still have a center. He acknowledges that
the possibility that philosophy never had a center is a problem that cannot
be dismissed, because it may become a fault within the philosophical realm.
Such a fault, however, is a species of Empiricism, a doctrine that Derrida
obviously holds in great disregard. Derrida is concerned that Empiricism is
a menace to the discourse he attempts to formulate here. (No doubt,
Empiricism is like the child in the story "The Emperor's New Clothes" who
exclaims that the Emperor is naked - that Derrida's discourse has no basis
in reality.) Derrida wants to save philosophy for the same purpose he
wanted to save the sign: for endless deconstruction. He stresses that it is
impossible to actually turn the page on philosophy. Even
"transphilosophical" concepts that attempt to go beyond philosophy can only
amount to reading philosophers in a certain way. There is nothing to be
studied beyond philosophy. (And there will be nothing left to study once
philosophy is completely deconstructed.)

Derrida proceeds to deconstruct Empiricism, the one philosophy he will not
miss. He attempts to invalidate the Empiricist critique of Levi-Strauss's
ethnological theories. Levi-Strauss was criticized for not conducting an
exhaustive inventory of South American myths before proceeding to write
about South American mythology. He defended himself by claiming that a
linguist can decipher a grammar from only a few sentences and does not need
to collect all the sentences of a language. Derrida obviously agrees with
him. However, grammar and mythology are not analogous. Each myth is unique
and can add more to the study of mythology whereas all the sentences in a
language use the same grammar, so only a sample of sentences is needed for
the study of grammar. However, this is empirical evidence, which Derrida
disregards. He uses Levi-Strauss's example of the study of grammar to prove
that "totalization" is both useless and impossible. It is useless and
impossible to encompass the totality of language in order to study its
grammar. In the absence of totalization, what emerges is "nontotalization,"
which is again defined as "play." This time, it is language, not structure
that loses its coherence to "play". However, the play remains the same:
words can now have any meaning.

** The Event of the Rupture **

Finally, after some more linguistic musings, the event of rupture which was
introduced in the beginning of the essay is defined: "The appearance of a
new structure, of an original system, always comes about - and this is the
very condition of its structural specificity - by a rupture with its past,
its origin, and its cause." (291) Derrida is still uncomfortable with the
notion of historical events, because "the internal originality of the
structure, compels a neutralization of time and history." (291) The nascent
structure must be independent of the event of rupture that brought it about.
One must "set aside all the facts" in order "to recapture the specificity of
a structure." (292) The new structure, i.e. new philosophy, must be purely
abstract and free of the concrete realm. Events must be set aside too, but
Derrida would have had no reason to write his essay if there never was an
event of rupture in the history of the concept of structure.

In the conclusion of his essay, Derrida observes that there are two ways to
interpret structure, sign and play. One seeks to decipher a truth or an
origin, and avoids play. The other affirms play and tries to pass beyond
man and humanism. The first way was dominant throughout human history. The
second way is only emerging now. What is there for man beyond man and
humanism? Derrida contends that presently we are only catching a glimpse of
what he means, which is still "unnamable," "formless," "nonspecies."
Nevertheless, he concludes his essay with an affirmation of play. Play must
supercede the alternatives of presence and absence. There is no need to be
concerned with the absence of a center, or of origin. Levi-Strauss, in his
study of archaic societies, brought play to light, but he still yearned for
an ethic of presence, an ethic of nostalgia for origins. Rousseau also
exhibited sadness, negativity, nostalgia and guilt about the lost or
impossible origin. Only Nietzsche could interpret the absence of a center as
the presence of a non-center, rather than be concerned with the loss of the
center. Only Nietzsche could affirm a world of play, "a world of signs
without fault, without truth, and without origin." (292) Derrida leaves no
doubt as to his position when he indicates that Nietzsche pointed the way.
He reproaches those who cannot face the inevitable birth of the world of
play. Play is possible, if only we can forego our need for truth. If only
we can forego our terror of the monstrosity that emerges as the new
center-less, formless structure makes it appearance. It is possible, then,
to have a philosophy without concepts, without orientation and without
coherence. It is possible to keep deconstructing philosophy, language or
anything and still be safe in the world of play.

THIS is the meaning of "Structure, Sign and Language in the Discourse of
the Human Sciences."

[Michal Fram-Cohen]


*************************************************
Fall 1999 Cyberseminar in Objectivist Studies

All Cyberseminar posts are working papers with copyright
reserved to the author. They may not be published or adapted
without permission, but may be circulated for purposes of
scholarly discussion.

*************************************************

Sent: Sunday, November 21, 1999 10:33 AM

Subject: Cyberseminar: On Derrida the Person

[From: Michal Fram Cohen ]

I hope my paper on Chapter 10 of "Writing and Difference" provided some
insight into Derrida's method of thinking and his state of mind.

I searched the Internet for some stories about Derrida that can shed
light on his character. My impression is that he takes himself very
seriously, certainly not as a playful Court Jester. In an interview in
the "New York Times" in 1998 he is dead serious about Deconstruction and
about his position as the greatest philosopher living.
You can read the interview at:

http://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/derrida/nytderrida.html

[Michal Fram-Cohen]


*************************************************
Fall 1999 Cyberseminar in Objectivist Studies

All Cyberseminar posts are working papers with copyright
reserved to the author. They may not be published or adapted
without permission, but may be circulated for purposes of
scholarly discussion.

*************************************************