From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Jean-François Lyotard (French
pronunciation: [ʒɑ̃ fʀɑ̃swa ljɔˈtaʀ]; 10 August 1924– 21 April
1998) was a French philosopher and literary
theorist. He is well-known for his articulation of postmodernism after
the late 1970s and the analysis of the impact of postmodernity on
the human
condition.
Biography
He was born in 1924 in Versailles, France to Jean-Pierre Lyotard, a
sales representative, and Madeleine Cavalli. He went to primary
school at the Paris Lycées Buffon and Louis-le-Grand and
later began studying philosophy at the Sorbonne. After graduation, in 1950, he took
up a position teaching philosophy in Constantine in French East
Algeria. Lyotard earned a Ph.D in literature. He married twice: in
1948 to Andrée May, with whom he had two daughters, and for a
second time in 1993 to the mother of his son, who was born in
1986.
Political
life
In 1954 Lyotard became a member of Socialisme ou Barbarie, a French
political organisation formed in 1948 around the inadequacy of the
Trotskyist analysis to explain the new
forms of domination in the Soviet Union. His writings in this
period are mostly concerned with ultra-left politics, with focus on
the Algerian situation which he witnessed first hand while teaching
philosophy in Constantine. [1]
Socialisme ou Barbarie became increasingly anti-Marxist and
Lyotard was prominent in the Pouvoir Ouvrier, a group that rejected
the position and split in 1963. [2]
Academic
career
In the early 1970s Lyotard began teaching at the University of Paris VIII, Vincennes until
1987 when he became Professor Emeritus. During the next two decades
he lectured outside of France, notably as a Professor of Critical
Theory at the University of California,
Irvine and as visiting professor at universities around the
world including Johns Hopkins, Berkeley, Yale and the University of
California, San Diego in the U.S., the Université de Montréal in Québec
(Canada), and the University of São Paulo in
Brazil. He was also a founding director and council member of the
Collège International de Philosophie,
Paris. Before his death, he split his time between Paris and
Atlanta, where he taught at Emory University as the Woodruff
Professor of Philosophy and French.
Later life
and death
Lyotard repeatedly returned to the notion of the Postmodern in
essays gathered in English as The Postmodern Explained to
Children, Toward the Postmodern, and Postmodern
Fables. In 1998, while preparing for a conference on
Postmodernism and Media Theory, he died unexpectedly from a case of
leukemia that had advanced rapidly. He is buried in Le Père
Lachaise Cemetery in Paris.
Thought
Lyotard's work is characterised by a persistent opposition to
universals, meta-narratives, and generality. He is
fiercely critical of many of the 'universalist' claims of the Enlightenment, and several of his works
serve to undermine the fundamental principles that generate these
broad claims.
In his writings of the early 1970s, he rejects what he regards
as theological underpinnings of both Marx and Freud: "In Freud, it
is judaical, critical sombre (forgetful of the political); in Marx
it is catholic. Hegelian, reconciliatory (...) in the one and in
the other the relationship of the economic with meaning is blocked
in the category of representation (...) Here a politics, there a
therapeutics, in both cases a laical theology, on top of the
arbitrariness and the roaming of forces".[3]
Consequently he rejected Adorno's negative dialectics which he
regarded as seeking a "therapeutic resolution in the framework of a
religion, here the religion of history".[4] In
Lyotard's "libidinal economics" (the title of one of his books of
that time), he aimed at "discovering and describing different
social modes of investment of libidinal intensities".[5]
The collapse of the
"Grand Narrative"
Most famously, in La Condition postmoderne: Rapport
sur le savoir (The Postmodern Condition: A Report on
Knowledge) (1979), he proposes what he calls an extreme
simplification of the "postmodern" as an 'incredulity towards
meta-narratives'.[6] These
meta-narratives - sometimes 'grand narratives' - are grand,
large-scale theories and philosophies of the world, such as the
progress of history, the knowability of everything by science, and
the possibility of absolute freedom. Lyotard argues that we have
ceased to believe that narratives of this kind are adequate to
represent and contain us all. We have become alert to difference,
diversity, the incompatibility of our aspirations, beliefs and
desires, and for that reason postmodernity is characterised by an
abundance of micronarratives. For this concept Lyotard draws from
the notion of 'language-games' found in the work of Wittgenstein.
In Lyotard's works, the term 'language games', sometimes also
called 'phrase regimens', denotes the multiplicity of communities
of meaning, the innumerable and incommensurable separate systems in
which meanings are produced and rules for their circulation are
created.
This becomes more crucial in Au juste: Conversations (Just
Gaming) (1979) and Le Différend (The Differend)
(1983), which develop a postmodern theory of justice. It might
appear that the atomisation of human beings implied by the notion
of the micronarrative and the language game suggests a collapse of
ethics. It has often been thought that universality is a condition
for something to be a properly ethical statement: 'thou shalt not
steal' is an ethical statement in a way that 'thou shalt not steal
from Margaret' is not. The latter is too particular to be an
ethical statement (what's so special about Margaret?); it is only
ethical if it rests on a universal statement ('thou shalt not steal
from anyone'). But universals are impermissible in a world that has
lost faith in metanarratives, and so it would seem that ethics is
impossible. Justice and injustice can only be terms within language
games, and the universality of ethics is out of the window. Lyotard
argues that notions of justice and injustice do in fact remain in
postmodernism. The new definition of injustice is indeed to use the
language rules from one 'phrase regimen' and apply them to another.
Ethical behaviour is about remaining alert precisely to the threat
of this injustice, about paying attention to things in their
particularity and not enclosing them within abstract conceptuality.
One must bear witness to the 'differend.'
"I would like to call a differend the case where the plantiff is
divested of the means to argue and becomes for that reason a
victim. If the addressor, the addressee, and the sense of the
testimony are neutralized, everything takes place as if there were
no damages. A case of differend between two parties takes place
when the regulation of the conflict that opposes them is done in
the idiom of one of the parties while the wrong suffered by the
other is not signified in that idiom." [7]
The
sublime
Lyotard was a frequent writer on aesthetic matters. He
was, despite his reputation as a postmodernist, a great promoter of
modernist art. Lyotard saw 'postmodernism'
as a latent tendency within thought throughout time and not a
narrowly-limited historical period. He favoured the startling and
perplexing works of the high modernist avant-garde. In them he
found a demonstration of the limits of our conceptuality, a
valuable lesson for anyone too imbued with Enlightenment
confidence. Lyotard has written extensively also on few
contemporary artists of his choice: Valerio Adami, Daniel Buren, Marcel Duchamp, Bracha Ettinger and Barnett Newman,
as well as on Paul Cézanne and Wassily
Kandinsky.
He developed these themes in particular by discussing the sublime. The "sublime" is a term
in aesthetics whose fortunes revived under postmodernism after a
century or more of neglect. It refers to the experience of
pleasurable anxiety that we experience when confronting wild and
threatening sights like, for example, a massive craggy mountain,
black against the sky, looming terrifyingly in our vision.
Lyotard found particularly interesting the explanation of the
sublime offered by Immanuel Kant in his Critique of Judgment (sometimes
Critique of the Power of Judgment). In this book Kant
explains this mixture of anxiety and pleasure in the following
terms: there are two kinds of 'sublime' experience. In the
'mathematically' sublime, an object strikes the mind in such a way
that we find ourselves unable to take it in as a whole. More
precisely, we experience a clash between our reason (which tells us
that all objects are finite) and the imagination (the aspect of the
mind that organises what we see, and which sees an object
incalculably larger than ourselves, and feels infinite). In the
'dynamically' sublime, the mind recoils at an object so
immeasurably more powerful than we, whose weight, force, scale
could crush us without the remotest hope of our being able to
resist it. (Kant stresses that if we are in actual danger,
our feeling of anxiety is very different from that of a sublime
feeling. The sublime is an aesthetic experience, not a practical
feeling of personal danger.) This explains the feeling of
anxiety.
The feeling of pleasure comes when human reason asserts itself.
What is deeply unsettling about the mathematically sublime is that
the mental faculties that present visual perceptions to the mind
are inadequate to the concept corresponding to it; in other words,
what we are able to make ourselves see cannot fully match up to
what we know is there. We know it's a mountain but we cannot take
the whole thing into our perception. What this does, ironically, is
to compel our awareness of the supremacy of the human reason. Our
sensibility is incapable of coping with such sights, but our reason
can assert the finitude of the presentation. With the dynamically
sublime, our sense of physical danger should prompt an awareness
that we are not just physical material beings, but moral and (in
Kant's terms) noumenal beings as well. The body may be
dwarfed by its power but our reason need not be. This explains, in
both cases, why the sublime is an experience of pleasure as well as
pain.
Lyotard is fascinated by this admission, from one of the
philosophical architects of the Enlightenment, that the mind cannot
always organise the world rationally. Some objects are simply
incapable of being brought neatly under concepts. For Lyotard, in
Lessons on the Analytic of the Sublime, but drawing on his
argument in The Differend, this is a good thing. Such
generalities as 'concepts' fail to pay proper attention to the
particularity of things. What happens in the sublime is a crisis
where we realise the inadequacy of the imagination and reason to
each other. What we are witnessing, says Lyotard, is actually the
differend; the straining of the mind at the edges of itself and at
the edges of its conceptuality.
Criticism
Some argue that Lyotard's theories may seem self-contradictory
because The Postmodern Condition seems to offer its own
grand narrative in the story of the decline of the metanarrative.
Against this it can be argued that Lyotard's narrative in The
Postmodern Condition declares the decline of only a few
defunct "narratives of legitimation" and not of narrative knowledge
itself. It is not logically contradictory to say that a statement
about narratives is itself a narrative, just as when Lyotard states
that "every utterance [in a language game] should be thought of as
a 'move' in a game"[8] his
statement is itself a 'move' in a language game.
See also the critical analysis of David Harvey in his book 'The
Condition of Postmodernity' (Blackwell, 1989). Harvey's
materialistic perspective finds traits of postmodernity to be
rooted in the large-scale shifts from Fordist to flexible
accumulation through a period of pronounced 'time-space compression' taking
place in conjunction with the technological advances happening
roughly around the 1970s. Far from being liberating, postmodernity
draws us into ever more chaotic and disruptive spirals of
accumulation that are ultimately as damaging as the Enlightenment
project.
Legacy
An international symposium about Jean-François
Lyotard organized by the Collège International de Philosophie
was held in Paris on January, 25-27th 2007.
Selected
Publications
- “Adorno as the Devil”. Telos 19 (Spring
1974). New York: Telos Press.
See also
References
- ^
Lyotard, Jean-François (1993). "The
Name of Algeria" in Political Writings. UCL Press.
pp. 165–170.
- ^
Lefort, Claude (1977). "An Interview".
Telos (30): 177.
- ^
Lyotard, Jean-François (1974).
"Adorno as the Devil". Telos (19): 134–5.
- ^
Lyotard, Jean-François (1974).
"Adorno as the Devil". Telos (19): 126.
- ^
Hurley, Robert (1974). "Introduction
to Lyotard". Telos (19): 124.
- ^
Lyotard, Jean-François (1979). La
Condition Postmoderne: Rapport sur le Savoir. Les Editions de
Minuit. pp. 7.
- ^
Lyotard, Jean-François (1988). The
Differend: Phrases in Dispute. University of Minnesota Press.
pp. 9.
- ^
Lyotard, Jean-François (1979). La
Condition Postmoderne: Rapport sur le Savoir. Les Editions de
Minuit. pp. 23.
, English version
at [1]
Lewis, Jeff Cultural Studies, (London: Sage, 2008).
Lyotard, J-F, Lessons on the Analytic of the Sublime, trans.
Elizabeth Rottenberg (Stanford: Stanford University Press,
1994).
External
links
| Persondata |
| NAME |
Lyotard, Jean-François |
| ALTERNATIVE
NAMES |
|
| SHORT
DESCRIPTION |
|
| DATE OF BIRTH |
1924 |
| PLACE OF
BIRTH |
Versailles, France |
| DATE OF DEATH |
1998 |
| PLACE OF
DEATH |
Paris, France |