I.
The opening tale of Daphne du Maurier's astonishing and disturbing collection of short stories entitled The Breaking Point (1959), is not so much a whodunnit as a who did what and reveals what she describes as "the lovely duplicity of a secret life" [22] and it's potential for tragedy.
But, whilst the latter is a fascinating notion - explored at length by Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray - what really caught my interest is the moment of revelation at the very beginning of the story when James Fenton realises that miracles can happen at any moment and dramatically mark the end of one's old life. This liberating thought had never come to him before:
"It was as though something had clicked in his brain [...] time had ceased [...] everything had changed [...] he had stepped out of bondage into a new dimension." [2-3]
What's more, Fenton feels himself strangely empowered, as if he had become a miracle-worker himself; i.e., an instrument of fate capable of altering the lives of strangers with a single gesture, be it a random act of kindness, or one of sadistic cruelty.
II.
In some ways, it's nice to know that miracles, far from being rare or unusual, are actually the natural unfolding of things and events and can not only happen at any time, but are, in fact, happening all of the time. For one thing, it releases us from the grip of absolute necessity or what's known within philosophical circles as the principle of sufficient reason (i.e., the metaphysical insistence that the world is at is with good cause and could only be as it is).
To think in terms of miracles, the unfolding of fate, and what Quentin Meillassoux terms unreason, is to enter a world of absolute contingency in which there is no reason for anything to be as it is or to remain so; everything - including the laws that govern the world - could be otherwise:
"Everything could actually collapse: from trees to stars, from stars to laws, from physical laws to logical laws; and this not by virtue of some superior law whereby everything is destined to perish, but by virtue of the absence of any superior law capable of preserving anything, no matter what, from perishing." [53]
For Meillassoux, this is the only absolute: a kind of hyper-chaos that du Maurier, at the point of breakdown - when reality must be faced - discovered for herself. Thus, when her protagonists suddenly step outside the gate, what they encounter is:
"a rather menacing power - something insensible, and capable of destroying both things and worlds, of bringing forth monstrous absurdities, yet also of never doing anything, of realizing every dream, but also every nightmare, of engendering random and frenetic transformations, or conversely, of producing a universe that remains motionless down to its ultimate recesses [...] a power with neither goodness nor wisdom, ill-disposed to reassure thought about the veracity of its distinct ideas." [64]
Further, whilst conventional time ceases, they observe something akin to it - an uncanny form of time that is:
"inconceivable for physics, since it is capable of destroying without cause or reason, every physical law, just as it is inconceivable for metaphysics, since it is capable of destroying every determinate entity [...] even God. This is not a Heraclitean time, since it is not the eternal law of becoming, but rather the eternal and lawless possible becoming of every law. It is a time capable of destroying even becoming itself by bringing forth, perhaps forever, fixity, stasis, and death.” [64]
Notes
Daphne du Maurier, 'The Alibi', in The Breaking Point, (Virago Press, 2009).
Quentin Meillassoux, After Infinity, trans. Ray Brassier, (Continuum, 2009).
For a semi-related post to this one on miracles understood from a Deleuzean perspective in terms of the fold, click here.
Quentin Meillassoux, After Infinity, trans. Ray Brassier, (Continuum, 2009).
For a semi-related post to this one on miracles understood from a Deleuzean perspective in terms of the fold, click here.
Excellent piece ... what it says to me though is not that this state of being (for that is how a miracle is being described here, less an act than an attitude) exists in the world but that we can imagine this miracle thing existing because our lack of knowledge of all things (the perquisite of the invented God) means that we are constantly either being surprised or anxious about being surprised and so we project that intersection of ignorance and anxiety into the possibility of the miracle which can oftentimes allow us, under extreme pressure (whose roots are generally unknown to ourselves), to perform one.
ReplyDeleteThe miracle is the mind's defiance of its material substrate, an imagined freedom that can sometimes be engineered into reality (a real freedom) where (within the reason of materiality) it can change the perception of that materiality and so change the material insofar as it affects us. Miracles of real freedom are generally not problems of matter but problems of history and society - the individual abstracting themselves from their own baggage even if only for a moment by re-ordering the emanations of both.
From the particular, a general (belief in miracles) is magically construed but the miracle is probably best seen as particular ... as either our reconstruction of reality as a function of our own ignorance or as our excuse for action which is so counter to the historical and the social that we need an excuse for action.
The miracle removes responsibility from us as socially and historically embedded thinking persons to liberate (but only partially) the person within as an incident (the moment) that enables the partial abandonment of past and context, although rarely with anything more than adjustment and re-settlement into a new perception of the social and the historical. It is an adaptation, much as a miracle might shift modes of faith within Catholicism without taking the faithful person out of the socio-historical model in which they have a socio-historical stake bigger than their drive for freedom from some particular aspect of their situation.