Sijia Yao's Cosmopolitan Love and Utopian Vision: Or How to Have D. H. Lawrence Spinning in His Grave (Part 2: Sections VI-X)

Sijia Yao: Cosmopolitan Love: 

Utopian Vision in D. H. Lawrence and Eileen Chang 

(University of Michigan Press, 2023)

 

 

This is a continuation of a post the first part of which (sections I-V) can be accessed by clicking here.  

 

 

VI. 

 

Nineteen-year-old Yvette Saywell may have had a sexual relationship with a married gipsy named Joe Boswell, but for Lawrence's most notorious tale of adultery we have to turn to the case of Lady Chatterley and her lover ... 

 

The seemingly modern - and yet actually anti-modern [e] - relationship between Connie and Mellors, says Yao, is not merely a crossing of the boundaries of "class, convention, and ideology" (69), it's a "transgressive love that institutionally challenges the local and global norms of modernization" (69). 

 

Again, whilst I have in the past argued something very similar, over the years (and in light of work by Foucault) I've become increasingly sceptical about the politics of desire [f] put forward by figures such as Wilhelm Reich, Herbert Marcuse, and, indeed, Lawrence. 

 

So, whilst I agree that warmhearted fucking and phallic tenderness are all well and good, I'm not sure these things are enough to bring about a revaluation of values or help us "breathe the air of freedom" (71) by overthrowing Western modernity. 

 

And whether the union of Connie and Mellors furthers the deconstruction of capitalist society and constitutes "an organic new life" (76), is also highly debatable; they might just become the kind of self-involved and self-contained couple that Rawdon Lilly so despises; "'stuck together like two jujube lozenges'" [g].          

 

 

VII.

 

And so we arrive at chapter 4 and the utopia of transcendental love ... The chapter which I suspect will really get my goat. But let's see. It opens thus:

 

"After defying both local and global discourses to reach a cosmopolitan freedom, Lawrence [...] discovered that freedom lies not necessarily somewhere outside but inside a heart that longs for an alternative utopian existence. The longing for utopia develops into an increasingly stronger theme in [his] later writings, displaying [his] redemptive attempts to create a new language of God's love." (95)

 

Lawrence, argues Yao, believes in projecting love into another mysterious dimension; one which is "intimately connected to the depth of time and the cosmos" (95). His ultimate goal, as a priest of love, is to "replace the eroded religious tradition" (95) of his own culture.

 

Sex is the means not only to human wholeness, but to a mystical union with the mysterious cosmos and the vast universe: "The intimate interrelation between [...] two lovers forms the bridge between humanity and the Absolute" (100), writes Yao (approvingly). Continuing:

 

"The more completely and profoundly the lovers are sexually connected, the more sacred and transcendental their passionate love becomes. Through sexual union, lovers achieve the ultimate, mystical marriage in order to fulfill their unknown desire." (102)

 

I mention Foucault in passing above, I now think we must quote him in an attempt to counter some of this sex mysticism ...

 

Referring directly to Lawrence's work at several points, Foucault discusses how the concept of sex as an omnipresent meaning, a metaphysical form of agency, and a universal signified, "made it possible to group together, in an artificial unity, anatomical elements, biological functions, conducts, sensations, pleasures" [h], becoming in the process "the most speculative, most ideal, and most internal element in a deployment of sexuality organised by power in its grip on bodies and their materiality" [i].  

 

In the imaginary element that is sex, we mistakenly believe we see our deepest and most primal selves reflected. One day, Foucault muses, "people will smile perhaps when they recall that here were men - meaning ourselves - who believed that therein resided a truth every bit as precious as the one they had already demanded from the earth, the stars, and the pure forms of their thought" [j]. 

 

The irony is that in subjecting ourselves to the austere monarchy of sex, we think we have somehow liberated ourselves.  

 

 

VIII. 

 

And so we come to The Escaped Cock ... (which was actually Lawrence's preferred title - showing his ability to laugh even at his own phallic philosophy - not The Man Who Died, as Yao informs readers).

 

This final great work of fiction represents Lawrence's attempt to "replace Christianity with a secular practice of healing and rebirth" (103), says Yao, though I think it would be better (and more accurate) to say Lawrence attempts to place Christianity back within a wider (pagan) religious context via a libidinally material - but nevertheless sacred - practice of healing and rebirth.  

 

But hey, I'm not her editor ... 

 

 

IX.

 

Moving toward the end of her fourth and final chapter, Yao repeats the claim that Lawrence attempts to "cross boundaries of human domain in time and space through the lived experience of love" (111) and whilst that's  not a sentence I could ever imagine writing personally, I suppose for those who like this sort of thing, this is the sort of thing they like (although I have no idea what it means to "explore the transcendental dimension of utopia" (111-112)). 

 

Perhaps a Lawrence scholar can enlighten me on this point. And perhaps they can also confirm or deny the truth of this claim made by Yao: "Lawrence optimistically believes that utopia can ultimately be achieved triumphantly, and he consequently always concludes his stories with consummation and revelation." (112)  

 

I see that with The Rainbow - but not with his other novels. In fact, I had always thought that Lawrence was known (and often criticised) for leaving his works with open-ended, ambiguous, or inconclusive endings, thereby avoiding the conventional, neat resolutions typical of Victorian literature. Even Lady C. ends a little droopingly with the lovers separated and who's to say they will ever be reunited or that Mellor's will ever regain potency? 

 

 

X.    

 

In conclusion ...

 

For Sijia Yao, Lawrence is to be highly esteemed as a writer for developing an aesthetico-political project "in which love as an ethical feeling plays a crucial role in creating cosmopolitan connections" (117) and sharing with his readers a "vision of peace and freedom that can resist violent nationalism and hegemonic discourse" (117). 

 

She continues: Lawrence adopts love as his "mode of engagement with the multidimensional world" (117), because love, for Lawrence, "is a primal living force in its dynamic and undefinable state, which is tightly interconnected with utopia" (117) and it is the concept of utopia that "fulfills the possibility of a jump from personal love to cosmopolitan engagement" (117).   

 

Ultimately, I suppose whether one chooses to see Lawrence as a utopian or not depends on how one imagines his democracy of touch and how one interprets his injunction to climb down Pisgah. I agree with Yao that Lawrence's work has socio-political significance and philosophical import. But, unfortunately, she and I completely disagree as to the nature of this. 

 

Although, having said that, Yao nicely surprised me with the final paragraph in her book, in which she writes:

 

"While utopia itself would be a fixed state, the longing for utopia defines a particular relationship that leaves abundant space for possibilities. This mode of cosmopolitan love does not try to offer a solution but rather an attitude that welcomes a plasticity of the utopian vision." (122)

 

Now why didn't she say that at the beginning ...! 

 

 

Notes

 

[e] When it comes to the question of whether adultery is très moderne or actually anti-modern, Yao is very good: 

      "One can easily argue that adultery can be understood as a modern relationship because it dissolves traditional bonds. [...] However, adultery in Lawrence [...] is an antimodern relationship because the traditional bonds are themselves now modern forms of relationship that exclude love. The structure of modernity is still built upon the preexisting traditional norms [...] thereby breeding alienation and disconnection. Hence, the prevailing forms of relationship are so suffused with modern alienation that only adultery can be a pure form of love that opposes this alienation. Adulterous love surpasses, undermines, and destroys the existing order to set up an alternative basis for modern society." (69)  

 

[f] See, for example, my post titled 'Lady Chatterley's Postmodern Lover' (9 Sept 2023): click here.   

 

[g] This humorous remark made by Rawdon Lilly can be found in D. H. Lawrence's novel Aaron's Rod, ed. Mara Kalnins (Cambridge University Press, 1988), p. 91.

      Even the narrator of Lady Chatterley's Lover is aware of the danger that Connie and Mellors will end up in a world of their own; see p. 213 of the Cambridge edition ed. Michael Squires (1993).  

 

[h] Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality 1: The Will to Knowledge, trans. Robert Hurley (Penguin Books, 1998), p.154.  

 

[i] Ibid., p. 155. 

 

[j] Ibid., pp. 157-158.

 

 

Sijia Yao's Cosmopolitan Love and Utopian Vision: Or How to Have D. H. Lawrence Spinning in His Grave (Part 1: Sections I-V)

Sijia Yao: Cosmopolitan Love: 

Utopian Vision in D. H. Lawrence and Eileen Chang 

 (University of Michigan Press, 2023) [a]

 

 

I. 

 

One of the books reviewed in the latest edition of the Journal of D. H. Lawrence Studies (2025) is Sijia Yao's Cosmopolitan Love: Utopian Vision in D. H. Lawrence and Eileen Chang (2023) [b]. 

 

Written by Li Zhimin, a Distinguished Professor of English at the School of Foreign Studies, Guangzhou University, it intrigued me enough that I decided I would read Yao's book for myself to discover if she really does misread Lawrence's project as much as indicated. 

 

For Lawrence - just to be absolutely clear at the outset - was not a utopian in the transcendent (and optimistic) sense that Yao argues and had no truck with cosmopolitanism if the latter is interpreted as a form of universal humanism. 

 

As for love, Lawrence absolutely rejects such when it is written with a capital 'L' and transformed into something grandiose and morally ideal; when it becomes diseased and insisted upon as the only thing that matters; when it becomes politicised and serves as a justification for violence, hatred, and authoritarianism. 

 

Even in his Chatterley writings, Lawrence prefers to speak of touch and tenderness rather than use the L-word and whilst he subscribes to a politics of desire, he ultimately thinks the transformation of society will require a new religious sensibility more than a sexual revolution and his democracy to come is, of course, an immanent utopia (now/here), existing in the bonds between people, not an ideal utopia (no/where) that "transgresses and transcends local, national, global, and even cosmic boundaries" (9).   

 

To his credit, Li does find flaws with Yao's study. But, unfortunately, he too seems to buy into the (Christian and Beatlesque) idea that all we need is love in order to "help the world become better" [c] and the human family achieve its collective maturity. 

 

 

II.    

 

As my knowledge of (and interest in) the Chinese-American author Eileen Chang is strictly limited, I'll not be commenting here on Yao's discussion of her work, nor the nature of the link made between Chang's writings and those of Lawrence, as all such comparisons are, if not exactly odious, then often questionable, even when adopting a third term methodology [d].   

 

Yao opens her Introduction to Cosmopolitan Love with the following line: "Love as a feeling is universal" (1) and normally that would be enough for me to immediately close a book. For even if this is factually correct from a bio-anthropological viewpoint, the expression of love is, of course, determined by language, history, culture, etc. (as I'm sure Yao knows; speaking immediately afterwards of Chinese love and Western love as distinct traditions). 

 

Nonsensical phrases casually dropped into the Introduction such as "it stirs one's spiritual being" (11) are also problematic and usually book-closing for me, but, in this case, I'm determined to press on and "pursue the true meaning" (11) of a text which promises to "restore [Lawrence's] literary glory" (14) and address the problems of today.  

 

 

III.

 

According to Yao, "in imagining how love breaks down preexisting orders and creates alternative utopian realities" (25) Lawrence divides love into four forms, "each corresponding to different phases of an ideal subject's maturity: parental, sexual, adulterous, and transcendental" (25-26). 

 

She then explains how she traces the subject progressing through these four separate phases, transforming their relationships in the process, as they move toward cosmoplitan love as she understands it. Thus the four phases also structure her book: beginning with chapter 1, in which the love of a child for its parents is transformed into sexual love for a non-familial other; a topic Yao discusses with reference to Freud's Oedipus complex and the question of incest. 

 

I'll take a brief look at this and the following two chapters - which illustrate how Lawrence used his model of eroticised philosophy to challenge nationalism and modernisation within a secular society - before then examining the fourth and final chapter in a little more detail, as this is the one I think will most interest (and infuriate), dealing as it does with Lawrence's creation of an "alternative language of divine love to render secular existence transcendentally meaningful" (29) and allowing lovers to enter a "mysterious dimension of utopia" (29).

 

 

IV. 

 

The argument of chapter one is essentially this: cosmopolitan love = good; incestuous desire = bad. And as the incest prohibition is "the foundation of cosmopolitan love" (32) - as well as that which also provides "the framework of all morality" (32) - it is also unquestionably in need of enforcement; human culture depends on it. 

 

This sounds very Freudian, but, actually, Yao wants to reverse certain aspects of Freud's thinking on this issue, arguing that whilst he wishes to see incest as "conforming to a universal Oedipal dynamic that originates from children" (33), Lawrence, in Sons and Lovers (1913), correctly identifies parents and the local culture as the "main drivers of incestuous desire" (33); an idea he later develops in his two books on the unconscious.     

 

I'm more than happy to be convinced by what Yao says here. It's certainly the case that, whilst influenced by Freud, Lawrence was no Freudian and vehemently rejected the psychoanalytic interpretation of his work. As Deleuze and Guattari recognise, Lawrence is fundamentally anti-Oedipus.    

 

 

V. 

 

Chapter two - 'Sexual Love as Public Defiance' - argues that there's a radical politics of desire; one capable of not only liberating the subject (particularly the female subject), but challenging ideas surrounding class and race, debunking prejudice and social convention, etc.

 

So nothing very new - and it's as if Foucault never lived! 

 

Yao's reading of The Virgin and the Gipsy is untenable, naive, and cliché-ridden; a young woman, stifled by false morality and a corrupt social order, sets out on a quest to discover her "primal selfhood" (54), the climactic flood at the stories end symbolising the unleashing of her "primitive desire" (54) and sexual awakening.    

 

Yvette is a woman transformed - a woman empowered - a woman in love! Because this is not just an erotic tale in which a randy passing gipsy deflowers the vicar's daughter, it's a utopian love story and a subversive (anti-English, post-colonial) cultural expression. Oh, and it's a rejection of the patriarchy and sexually objectifying male gaze too.  

 

Yao concludes her second chapter thusly:

 

"If the critique of incestuous love described in chapter 1 represents the struggle to break the shackles of an oppressive and immoral family culture, the affirmation of sexual love finds a way to reach a realm of freedom that is briefly achieved through a utopian moment that coincides with the cosmopolitan transcendence of national boundaries." (68) 

 

 

Notes

 

[a] This 172 page text is available to purchase in hardback and paperback formats from the usual outlets, but is also freely available online as an open access book, thereby generously allowing anyone to read, download, or share it: click here to access via JSTOR. All page numbers given in this post refer to this work. 

      The author, Sijia Yao, is an Assistant Professor of Chinese Language and Culture at Soka University of America (a private liberal arts college based in California).      

 

[b] See 'Sijia Yao, Cosmopolitan Love: Utopian Vision in D. H. Lawrence and Eileen Chang, reviewed by Li Zhimin', in the JDHLS, Volume 7, Number 2 (2025), ed. Jane Costin (published by the D. H. Lawrence Society, Eastwood, Notts.), pp. 202-206.  

 

[c] Li Zhimin, ibid., p. 205. 

      The good professor goes on to explain that when love triumphs, "people from different interest groups would be more ready to recognise each other's family values" (205-06) and live according to the rule of law within a rational political framework. Humanity, Maturity, and Family (HMF): these are the (Kantian) key terms and fundamental values of his own utopian vision; see chapter 12 of his book written in collaboration with Daniel Braun, China Being Led and Leading: A Literary and Cultural Interpretation (Palgrave Macmillan, 2025), pp. 151-162.  

 

[d] See the section on comparative methodology in the Introduction to Cosmopolitan Love, pp. 19-25.   

 

 

This post continues in part two (sections VI-X): click here.  

On Spinoza's Four Great Disciples

Les quatre grands disciples de Spinoza

(Nietzsche - Lawrence - Kafka - Artaud)

 

I. 

 

Spinoza is one of those philosophers I have never read and about whom my knowledge is extremely limited: I know, for example, that he was a 17th-century Dutch thinker of Portuguese-Jewish origin and a founding figure of the Enlightenment who preferred to earn his living as a lens grinder, rather than accept an academic post that might compromise his intellectual independence. 

 

I also know that he rejected the idea of free will and divine judgement and argued for a kind of pantheistic monism (i.e., the belief that God and Nature are one and the same identical and infinite substance). Such thinking made him a controversial figure at the time and and a thorn in the side of the religious authorities. 

 

Finally, I know that Deleuze was a great admirer; that Spinoza was the thinker who provided him with the basis for his own work on immanence and encouraged a joyful affirmation of life free from belief in a world beyond, or tedious moral concepts that always terminate in judgement and punishment.  

 

For Deleuze, Spinoza was le prince de philosophes and he had four great heirs or disciples: Nietzsche, D. H. Lawrence, Kakfa, and Artaud [1]. The question that interests me here, however, is not how or why Deleuze arrives at this conclusion, but what did each of these four think of the renegade Jew who gave us modernity ...? [2]

 

II.  

 

Let's work backwards and begin with Artaud, who, as far as I'm aware, never mentioned Spinoza in his writings, suggesting that the link between the two is something formed almost exclusively in Deleuze's philosophical imagination. 

 

Deleuze (and Guattari) may like to think of Spinoza's Ethics (1667) as anticipating Artaud's notion of the body without organs, but that's not something that ever occured to the French dramatist who introduced the world to the theatre of cruelty. 

 

Indeed, according to one scholar, Artaud's work is ultimately incompatible with Spinoza's rationalism [3]. For whereas Artaud aims to liberate libidinal energy and resist the body's rational organ-isation, Spinoza, in contrast, wished to perfect man via reason and an active form of knowledge. Both spoke about joy and passion, but each conceived such terms in radically different ways.    

 

 

III. 

 

Unlike Artaud, Franz Kafka apparently did acknowledge his indebtedness to Spinoza - even if he didn't do so in his published writings - considering him a spiritual mentor during his younger years when part of an intellectual circle in Prague which often discussed the Dutchman's work [4].

 

Kafka was particularly interested in Spinoza's notion of an indifferent deity; i.e., one who was blind to the suffering of humanity. This idea shaped Kafka's construction of an amoral fictional universe in which there is ultimately no justice, despite all the mechanisms of law and order put in place by mankind.      

 

 

IV.

 

Amusingly, one commentator has described Lawrence as a "sort of sexy Spinozist" [5], which I think is pushing things a bit too far, even if it's fair to say that Lawrence's own thinking does align in certain key aspects with Spinoza's philosophy. 

 

For example, Lawrence's model of pantheism which insists that God exists only in bodies; or his concept of blood-knowledge, which has echoes of Spinoza's intuitive science (a third way of knowing beyond imagination and reason which allows one to grasp the essence of things and experience a sense of blessedness or oneness with the universe).     

 

But again, as with Kafka and Artaud, there is hardly a mention of Spinoza in any of Lawrence's writings; the only one I can recall from memory is in the short prose piece 'Books' in which he dismisses him as another of those philosophers who, like Kant, only thought "with his head and his spirit" (and never with his blood) [6]. 

 

 

V. 

 

Finally, we arrive at Nietzsche  ... 

 

And finally we find actual written references to Spinoza that we are able to cite, such as the postcard sent to his friend Franz Overbeck in the summer of 1881, in which Nietzsche expresses his astonishment and delight at having found a precursor - i.e., someone in whose work he recognises himself, even if, due to differences in time and culture, there remained certain important points of divergence [7]. 

 

In the Genealogy (II.15), meanwhile, Nietzsche acknowledges Spinoza's insight into (and the need to overcome) traditional moral concepts. Material found in his notebooks from this period also show Nietzsche turning to Spinoza for ideas, particularly concerning the transformation of knowledge into a passion. 

 

Ultimately, Nietzsche saw in Spinoza someone who was able to think beyond good and evil - someone who scorned the teleological fantasy that the universe had some ultimate goal, or that man possessed free will.

 

Having said that, however, it's also true that Nietzsche viewed his own concept of will to power as superior and more radical than Spinoza's insistence that life strove above all for its own preservation. And in his mature (some might say mad) Dionysian phase, it's hard to believe that Nietzsche would have had much time for Spinoza's defence of reason as the essential human faculty leading to freedom.       

 

 

VI.

 

In sum: whilst Deleuze isn't simply joking or trying to be provocative by grouping together Nietzsche, Lawrence, Kafka, and Artaud as disciples of Spinoza, we need to take this idea with a pinch of salt and remember that none of the above saw themselves as such. 

 

Essentially, Deleuze was highlighting a number of conceptual connnections between them which might otherwise go unnoticed. He was probably also attempting to make Spinoza more relevant to a contemporary readership and, perhaps, inseminate Spinoza with his own ideas. 

 

Thus, it might be best to think of Nietzsche, Lawrence, Kafka, Artaud, and Deleuze himself as a line of thinkers who share common ground with Spinoza, but are not followers per se (more like fellow travellers); artist-philosophers who above all else want to have done with judgement.    

 

 

Notes

 

[1] See the essay 'To Have Done with Judgement', in Gilles Deleuze, Essays Critical and Clinical, trans. Daniel W. Sith and Michael E. Greco (Verso, 1998), pp. 126-135. 

      According to Deleuze, it was not Kant but Spinoza who, in breaking with the Judeo-Christian tradition, carried out a true critique of judgement and had "four great disciples to take it up again and push it further: Nietzsche, D. H. Lawrence, Kafka, Artaud" (126). 

 

[2] This description was coined by the American philosopher and novelist Rebecca Goldstein and formed the subtitle of her biographical study Betraying Spinoza (Random House, 2006). 

 

[3] See Jon K. Shaw, 'Athleticism Is Not Joy: Extricating Artaud from Deleuze's Spinoza', in Deleuze Studies, Vol. 10, No. 2, (Edinburgh University Press, May 2016), pp. 162-185. 

      As Shaw writes in the Abstract to this essay, "much of Artaud's metaphysics is incompatible with Deleuze's Spinozism, not least the relation between a body and its constitutive outside, and the questions of affect and expression": click here. 

 

[4] In the absence of direct references to Spinoza in Kafka's writings, we have to rely on biographical studies and scholarly analysis to confirm the latter's interest in (and sense of kinship with) the former. I'm not sure I'd speak of parallel destinies between the two, however, although that's the argument put forward by Carlos García Durazo in his essay on Medium (24 Oct 2024): click here. 

 

[5] See Mattie Colquhoun, 'Rainbows: From D. H. Lawrence to the NHS', on Xenogothic (23 Dec 2020): click here.  

 

[6] See D. H. Lawrence, 'Books', in Reflections on the Death of a Porcupine and Other Essays, ed. Michael Herbert (Cambridge University Press, 1988), p. 198. 

 

[7] Nietzsche, postcard to Franz Overbeck (30 July, 1881). It can be read (in English translation) on The Nietzsche Channel: click here. 

      It is interesting to note that Nietzsche doesn't simply identify with Spinoza because of certain shared ideas, but also because the latter was, due to his radicalism, very much a maligned and marginalised figure in his own day (much as Nietzsche felt himself to be in modern Germany). 

      It is also important to remember that Nietzsche's understanding of Spinoza was mostly based on his reading of secondary sources, such as Kuno Fischer's highly influential six-volume study Geschichte der neuern Philosophie ['History of Modern Philosophy'] (1854-1877). 

      See Andreas Urs Sommer, 'Nietzsche's Readings on Spinoza: A Contextualist Study, Particularly on the Reception of Kuno Fischer', in the Journal of Nietzsche Studies, Vol. 43, No. 2 (Autumn, 2012), pp. 156-184. This essay is available on JSTOR: click here. 

 

 

Flogging a Dead Reindeer

Image posted to Instagram on 24 Dec 2025 

by $teve Jone$ @jonesysjukebox

 

 

I. 

 

Marx famously predicted that within modern capitalism all values would be reduced not to zero, but resolved into one final, fatal value; i.e., commercial or exchange value. 

 

Thus it is that bourgeois society does not efface old structures and insititutions - including punk rock bands - but subsumes them. Old modes do not die; they get recuperated into the marketplace, take on price tags, become commodities.

 

And so it is we witness three ex-Pistols and a grinning wannabe Johnny Rotten hawking their merchandise via social media even on Christmas eve. This includes a 'God Save the Queen' seasonal jumper which they model in the above photos [1].    

 

 

II. 

 

This shouldn't surprise anyone: Malcolm - in collaboration with Jamie Reid and Julien Temple - warned what would happen in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) and the grim reality of the fate that awaited the band was made explicit in the album titles Some Product: Carri On Sex Pistols (1979) and Flogging a Dead Horse (1980).  

 

And I have written several posts on this subject; see, for example, the post dated 12 June, 2015 in which I discuss the issuing of a Sex Pistols credit card on Virgin Money (in two designs): click here.  

 

But, even so, I still find it sad and depressing to see the Sex Pistols - now a punk rock brand - selling Never Mind the Bollocks Christmas baubles (at £18 each) [2]. 

 

And it makes me despise an economic system which, on the one hand, equalises and makes everything the same, whilst, on the other hand, encouraging all modes of conduct and permitting all manner of thinking, providing they are economically viable and turn a nice profit. 

 

I am not a Marxist: but, in as much as capitalism leaves no other nexus between people than naked self-interest and cash payment [3] - and in as much as it infects every sphere of activity (including the arts) with the same greed and vulgarity - I do find myself experiencing (à la Ursula Brangwen) a feeling of "harsh and ugly disillusion" [4]. 

 

And so, I'm almost tempted this Christmas to invoke that exterminating angel dreamed of by Deleuze and Guattari; the one who will consummate capitalism by fucking the rich up the arse and transmitting "the decoded flows of desire" [5]. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Readers can purchase this synthetic knitted jumper (it's only 8% wool), priced £60, from the Sex Pistols official website store: click here. 

 

[2] Again, head to the official Sex Pistols website shop: click here. 

 

[3] I am paraphrasing from memory what Marx and Engels write in The Communist Manifesto (1848).  

 

[4] D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow, ed. Mark Kinkead-Weekes (Cambridge University Press, 1989), p. 403. 

 

[5] Deleuze and Guattari, Anti-Oedipus, trans. Robert Hurley, Mark Seem, and Helen R. Lane (The Athlone Press, 1994), p. 35.  

 

 

Xmas bonus: Julien Temple's hour-long documentary Christmas with the Sex Pistols (2013), featuring footage from their last UK concert on Christmas Day, 1977: click here. It was first shown on BBC Four on Boxing Day 2013.   

 

 

Weirdeval: A Brief Note on Historybounding and Renaissance Dandyism

Jack Brotchie wearing reconstructed clothing by Jenny Tiramani 

based on figure 102 in The Book of Clothes by Matthäus Schwarz [1] 

 

If a dozen Renaissance dandies stroll through Soho tomorrow 

wearing bright red and yellow clothes, then the revolution against dullness will have begun. [2]

 

 

It seems highly unlikely that D. H. Lawrence's call for a revival of Renaissance dandyism is going to happen any time soon. And so I'm not expecting to encounter a dozen young men strolling along the Strand with bright red hose and wearing doublets of puce velvet when I next head into London. 

 

Having said that ... it seems there's recently been a trend amongst a niche subculture of fashionable individuals to experiment with clothing from yesteryear, including things from the Early Modern Period [3].

 

Critics might sneer and dismiss this as merely a form of larping, but lovers of the trend insist that their attire is an authentic form of self-expression and that by incorporating 16th-century items of dress into contemporary outfits they manage to avoid looking as if they are merely actors in some kind of theatrical production. 

 

They call this practice historybounding (cf. the more mundane practice of historical reenactment) [4] and if theirs is not a full revolt into style, then it's a form of elegant rebellion nevertheless against the boredom and drabness of everyday life in 2026 and I have nothing but admiration for those young men who belong to the world of the weirdeval [5] and flounce around in their ruffs and doublets and codpieces; or those young women who want to dress like Joan of Arc - the patron saint of Gen Z - and adopt her distinctive hairstyle.    

 

  

  

Notes

 

[1] See the astonishing section by Jenny Tiramani - 'Reconstructing a Schwarz Outfit' - in The First Book of Fashion, ed. Ulinka Rublack and Maria Hayward (Bloomsbury, 2021), pp. 373-396. As she herself notes, reconstructing clothes from 1530 has very particular problems and results in some surprising discoveries. 

      Perhaps the most fascinating thing is that the outfit gave the model, Jack  Brotchie, the fashionable silhouette of the period; because cut and folds of the clothes "he appears to have broad sloping shoulders , a high waist, and long legs" (396). In other words, even a 'modern body' can be styled and shaped in a Renaissance manner.     

 

[2] I'm paraphrasing D. H. Lawrence writing in 'Red Trousers', ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 138.  

 

[3] See, for example, the article by Esther Newman, 'Forget Futurism, I Want to Dress Like Joan of Arc', Refinery29 (4 November, 2024): click here. 

      As she excitedly informs her readers: "This season, we're not looking forward for style inspiration, nor even to the very recent past - the trend cycle is turning to the Dark Ages, literally; we're all going medieval."

 

[4] Just to be clear: historybounding is a fashion trend where one incorporates elements of historical clothing into one's contemporary wardrobe, creating looks inspired by past eras without wearing full costumes. The key is to draw inspiration from the past and evoke a past aesthetic, not attempt to replicate it; to live yesterday tomorrow. 

      Even so, one imagines that Zarathustra would not approve; he famously moans about men of the present painted with all kinds of colours surrounded by mirrors: "Written over with the signs of the past and these signs over-daubed with new signs [...] All ages and all peoples gaze motley out of your veils [...]

      See the section entitled 'Of the Land of Culture' in Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra, trans. R. J. Hollingdale (Penguin Books, 1969), p. 142. 

 

[5] The portmanteau term weirdeval is a subcultural fashion phenomenon - also known as medieval weird core - that blends elements of medieval-era clothing (corsets, chainmail, flowing tunics, etc.) with unconventional contemporary styling. The aesthetic, which consciously rejects historical accuracy, gained traction on social media platforms, particularly TikTok. It draws inspiration from film and television, fantasy fiction, and various fashion designers.  

 

 

For a sister post to this one on Renaissance Dandyism and The First Book of Fashion, please click here. 

 

 

A Brief Note on Renaissance Dandyism and The First Book of Fashion

Matthäus Schwarz, on his 32nd birthday (20 Feb 1529), 

wearing a fur gown over a doublet sewn with half silk, 

close-fitting red hose lined with green velvet and taffeta, 

and a very wide-brimmed flat black bonnet [1]

 

If a dozen young dandies would stroll through Soho tomorrow, wearing tight scarlet trousers 

fitting the leg, then the revolution against dullness will have begun. [2]

 

 

I. 

 

When D. H. Lawrence writes of Renaissance dandies swaggering down the street wearing brightly coloured clothes and sailing gaily in the teeth of dreary convention [3], it's possible that he had a style-conscious German accountant called Matthäus Schwarz in mind ... 

 

 

II. 

 

Born in Augsburg in February 1497, Schwarz meticulously documented the often expensive outfits he wore between 1520 and 1560, and his beautifully illustrated work [4] - the 'Book of Clothes' [Klaidungsbüchlein] - is now recognised as being the world's first fashion and style guide. 

 

Schwarz instructs his readers on how to dress up not so as to mess up (or be arrested), but, rather, to impress and thereby advance one's position within society. And he seemed to know what he was talking about, as he was ennobled by Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, in 1541.

 

Later, his son, Veit Konrad, continued the work, recording both sartorial triumphs and failures and revealing more about the politics of style as well as the importance of fashion to the aesthetics and culture of the Early Modern Period. 

 

However, after twenty years he lost interest in the project.      

 

 

III. 

 

In her Preface to the revised paperback edition of The First Book of Fashion (2021), historian and co-editor Ulinka Rublack includes a paragraph that eloquently sums up the importance of Schwarz senior as a philosopher on the catwalk:

 

"Matthäus Schwarz pioneered in using dress to express himself politically, socially, and emotionally, and in creating awareness that our sense of the past is enriched by a cultural history of fashion. This explains why his manuscript and biography remain so inspiring for our interests today - whether we research the history of menswear, the Western Renaissance, or a whole range of specialised topics including the history of bodyweight, gesture, courtship, and masculinity." [5]   

 

Lawrence was right to suggest that the colours and textiles used in Renaissance fashion could, if incorporated in innovative new designs today, spark a real sartorial (and subcultural) revolution. For when passion ends in fashion then clothing takes on wider social and political import (as recognised, for example, by McLaren and Westwood).        

 

To be well-dressed is a sign not just of wealth, but of individual sovereignty in a world that promotes drab conformity and values practicality over splendour.  

 

But it "takes a lot of courage to sail gaily, in brave feathers, right in the teeth of dreary convention" [6]. For one risks not just the disapproving looks and scorn of others, but unprovoked acts of physical assault, as dandy fashionistas will vouch.       

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Image and description adapted from The First Book of Fashion, ed. Ulinka Rublack and Maria Hayward (Bloomsbury, 2021), see pp. 140 and 298. Note that this edition is the revised paperback; the original hardback was published in 2015. 

 

[2] I am paraphrasing D. H. Lawrence writing in 'Red Trousers', Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 138.

 

[3] D. H. Lawrence, 'Red Trousers', as cited above. 

 

[4] Schwarz commissioned artists to make accurate watercolor paintings of him wearing his fabulous outfits. Most of these pictures were by a young local artist Narziss Renner. Sadly, however, this close collaboration came to an end 1536 when the latter died, aged 34. Each picture comes with a brief comment added by Schwarz detailing the clothes and sometimes saying where, when, and even why he adopted a particular look. 

      Interestingly, the images also include two nude portraits of Schwartz in the summer of 1526, when, aged 29, he had put on weight and become, in his words, fat and round. These are among the earliest fully nude male images in Northern European art. 

 

[5] Ulinka Rublack, 'Preface' to the revised paperback edition of The First Book of Fashion (2021), p. x. 

 

[6] D. H. Lawrence, 'Red Trousers', Late Essays and Articles, p. 138.    

 

 

A sister post to this one on historybounding and Renaissance dandyism can be read by clicking here.  

 

Thanks to Thom Bonneville for Xmas gifting me the latest printed edition of The First Book of Fashion (2025). 

 

 

On the Anointed and the Accursed

Fig. 1: Marko Rupnik: The Anointing at Bethany (date unknown) 

Fig. 2: Marti Blue in Dirty (dir. Annabel Lee and Tessa Hughes-Freeland, 1993)

 

'And there will be a time of crisis, of worlds hanging in the balance.

And in this time shall come the Anointed.'

  

Or the Accursed ...

  

 

I. 

 

If you know your Greek, then you know that the title Christ does not mean king or saviour, but, in fact, derives from the term Χριστός (Khristós), which means the Anointed One [1]. 

 

II. 

Anointment is a ceremonial blessing, both sweet and useful, in which sacred aromatic oil [2] is ritually poured over an individual's head and/or body in acknowledgement of their divine nature and in order to provide protection from dangerous spirits and demons (which were widely believed to cause disease) [3].

 

It's a Jewish practice that many other peoples adopted, including the Ancient Greeks, and the concept of a sweet-smelling Messiah is, of course, central to Christianity; a faith whose oily followers we might legitimately describe as unctuous.     

 

I'm not sure, but I would guess that the practice has its origins in prehistoric cultures; the fat and blood of sacrificial animals being smeared on the body as a powerful form of sympathetic magic. To believe that anointment with sacred oil imparted the Spirit of the Lord [4] is really not all that different from thinking that to rub oneself with lion's blood makes one strong and fierce in battle.   

 

Finally, it might be noted that Jesus was never officially anointed by a High Priest in accordance with the ceremony described in Exodus. He was, however, considered to have been anointed by the Holy Spirit during his baptism. And he also has his feet lovingly oiled by Mary of Bethany shortly before meeting his sticky end on the Cross [5].  

And speaking of sticky ends ... Not everyone in this life is lucky enough to be anointed: indeed, some individuals - let us call them the accursed [6] - have filth poured over them rather than fine oils.

III.

Without wishing to go into too much detail, punishments involving the covering or pelting of people with bodily waste matter, rotten food items, or other types of filth, have a long and disgusting history. 

 

Sometimes these punishments were designed to publicly shame or appease the anger of the mob; sometimes, however, they were meant not only to shame, but to result in the person's (often slow and agonising) death ... 

 

One thinks, for example, of the ancient Persian method of execution known as scaphism [7], in which the naked victim would be trapped between two boats, with only his head, hands and feet sticking out. 

They would then be force fed with excessive quantities of milk and honey, causing them to vomit and soil themselves and thus left festering in their own puke and excrement, attracting the attention of voracious flies and other egg-laying insects. 

 

Maggot infestations and bacterial infection would eventually lead to sepsis and death, but the whole ghastly process could take many days. 

Readers who know their Bible will not be surprised to learn that the idea of being metaphorically shit upon - or turned into a piece of fly-covered meat - in order to demonstrate one's accursed state and vileness in the eyes of Man and God alike, can also be found in the Good Book. 

 

The prophet Nahum, for example, makes perfectly clear what God will do to anyone who dares to break his Law, including those women branded as witches and harlots: 'I will cast abominable filth upon thee, and make thee vile, and will set thee as a gazingstock' (3:6), saith the LORD. 

 

 

IV.

 

Of course, there are some today who couldn't care less about the threats of a dead deity; indeed, there are some who have even transformed their own abjection and accursed status into an erotic pleasure ...

 

For these perverts - coprophiles and urophiles - being covered in (or interacting with) bodily waste materials is better than being anointed with the even the holiest of holy oils.  

 

Mysophiles with an abnormal attraction to filth and salirophiles who love to despoil or dirty the object of their affection, may horrify those like D. H. Lawrence who think such kinky individuals degraded and unable to differentiate between the flow of sex on the one hand and the flow of excrement on the other [8], but, for writers like Georges Bataille, transgressive paraphilias play a vital role in a Nietzschean revaluation of values and in his fiction he delights in presenting readers with characters such as Dirty; an incontinent foul-smelling alcoholic who engages in debauched sexual acts with her lover Troppmann [9], and the teen terror Simone, who loves sitting in saucers of milk, being urinated on, smearing herself with mud whilst masturbating in the rain, and inserting globular objects (soft-boiled eggs and eyeballs ripped from their sockets) into her anus or vagina [10].           

 

I'm not sure I'd like to date either girl, but perhaps Bataille is right to suggest that divine ecstasy and extreme horror are identical and that this is ultimately what the anointed and the accursed both discover.  

 

 

Notes

 

[1] And if you know your Hebrew, then you also know that this Greek term is a direct translation of מָשִׁיחַ (Mašíaḥ), which again refers to the Anointed One and is transliterated into English as messiah. 

      Fans of Buffy the Vampire Slayer will at this point be keen to remind us all that the character played by Andrew J. Ferchland in the series was also known as the Anointed One - and the epigraph at the top of this post is in fact a reference to this character and not to Jesus. 

      See the season 1 episode of Buffy entitled 'Never Kill a Boy on the First Date' (dir. David Semel, 1997).

[2] The oil used in a ceremonial anointment is called chrism, from the Greek χρῖσμα (khrîsma), and is commonly a mix of olive oil and balsam oil. These days, different traditions of Christian faith use different ingredients in the mix - not always following the biblical formula (discussed in note 4 below). and monarchs have sometimes.  

 

[3] Anointing was also understood to literally seal in goodness and, during the medieval and early-modern period, the practice of oiling the dead was thought to provide posthumous protection from vampires and ghouls who might otherwise feast on one's corpse. 

 

[4] See chapter 30 of the Book of Exodus, verses 22-25: click here. 

      Apparently, God not only gave Moses specific instructions for the preparation of anointing oil, he even provided a list of ingredients to be used; essentially expensive spices blended and mixed with olive oil. The resulting mixture was to be reserved exclusively for religious purposes and the recipe was not to be duplicated for personal or everyday use under any circumstances (breaking this commandment would result in a severe punishment). 

      The oil symbolised the presence and empowerment of the Holy Spirit and its purpose was to sanctify (or set apart) people and objects, highlighting the distinction between the sacred and the profane.

 

[5] See John 12:1-8: click here. 

 

[6] The term accursed may not be a precise antonym for anointed, but it's the best I could think of and I believe it has a theological resonance as well as a more general meaning. 

      Arguably, I suppose, the accursed might also be thought of as a class of the damned. But the accursed, unlike the damned, are more loathsome and detestable than they are evil and whilst they may be marked for destruction by God, they are not necessarily heading for eternal punishment in the depths of Hell - although it's not always clear cut: see Matthew 25:41, for example, where Jesus is depicted as telling those who find themselves unfortunate enough to be standing on his left hand side at the Final Judgement: 'Depart from me, ye cursed, into the everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels'.     

 

[7] Plutarch discusses scaphism in his Life of Artaxerxes, detailing the execution of a Persian soldier named Mithridates. His account originates from a source considered unreliable, however (which is not to say the practice didn't take place). See section 16 of the above work: click here.  

 

[8] See D. H. Lawrence, 'Pornography and Obscenity', in Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 242, where he writes 

       "The sex functions and the excrementary functions in the human body work so close together, yet they are, so to speak, utterly different in direction. Sex is a creative flow, the excrementary flow is towards  dissolution [...] In the really healthy human being the distinction between the two is instant [...]

      But in the degraded human being the deep instincts have gone dead and the two flows become identical. [...] Then sex is dirt and dirt is sex, and sexual excitement becomes a playing with dirt [...]" 

[9] See Bataille's novel Le blue de ciel (1957), trans. by Harry Mathews as Blue of Noon (Penguin Books 2001). 

      Dirty - or Dorothea to give the character her Christian name - personifies Bataille's philosophy of base materialism. Her utter degeneracy - moral and social - is contrasted with the ideals of purity and goodness that characterise both bourgeois and fascist society. 

      Interestingly, the character was modeled on Bataille's real-life lover at the time, Colette Peignot, a revolutionary Communist (known by the pseudonym Laure) whose (short and tragic) life was lived to (and at) the limit. 

 

[10] See Bataille's novel Histoire de l'oeill (1928), trans. by Joachim Neugroschal as Story of the Eye (Penguin Books, 1982). 

 

Euphoria Contra Ecstasy

Killing Joke: Euphoria (2015)  

Screenshot from the official video

And then the clouds break / A ray of sunlight, gloria!  

As if a promise / Some strange kind of euphoria [1]

 

 

I. 

 

When I was young, one of the key words in my vocabulary was the Ancient Greek term ἔκστασις (ékstasis), which refers to a psycho-spiritual sense of release; the ecstatic individual is one who has found a way to literally step outside of their own self and become part of something greater (some might characterise this as the nowness of the moment; some might speak of God).  

 

Ecstasy, therefore, is an altered - some would insist higher - state of consciousness and many who have experienced it speak of an intensely pleasurable experience, whether resulting from sexual activity, drug use, or religious devotion [2]. The desire for a temporary loss of self and loss of control is, it seems, rooted in a fundamental human instinct - one which Freud memorably termed der Todestrieb [3].     

 

And it's at this point I'd like to say something about another Ancient Greek term - εὐφορία - or, as we write it in English, euphoria  ...

 

 

II.  

  

It's because I think Freud is right to identify a death drive and because I believe the wilful desire to experience ecstasy is rooted in this drive (and is thus, from a Nietzschean perspective, décadent), that I now avoid speaking of ékstasis and favour euphoria, which, I would argue, is an expression of man's most vital self.   

 

In other words, euphoria is a sense of physical wellbeing that encourages us to stay true to the earth, whilst ecstasy, involving as it does an element of transcendence and a stepping out of reality, is a dangerous first step on the path to heaven; euphoria is tied to Dionysian joy [4], but ecstasy terminates in the kind of religious rapture [5] longed for by Christians and other afterworldsmen [6].  

 

 

III. 

By way of providing an example, let us turn to two contrasting scenes in D. H. Lawrence's novel The Rainbow (1915) ...  

 

In the first of these, we witness the heavily pregnant Anna Brangwen dancing naked in her bedroom and this, I would say, is a scene of euphoria; one that celebrates the fertile female body in all its gravid beauty:

 

"Big with child as she was, she danced there in the bedroom by herself, lifting her hands and her body to the Unseen [...]

      [...] She danced in secret, and her soul rose in bliss [7] [...] she took off her clothes and danced in the pride of her bigness [8].   

 

In the second scene, which comes in the following chapter (VII), we are told how her husband, Will, is driven to the point of ecstasy by Lincoln Cathedral:

 

"When he saw the cathedral in the distance [...] his heart leapt. It was the sign in heaven, it was the Spirit hovering like a dove [...] He turned his glowing, ecstatic face to her, his mouth opened with a strange, ecstatic grin." [9]    

 

It's not that Will is an objectophile - though he clearly has certain tendencies in that direction - his real desire is to escape mortal existence and become one with the Infinite in timeless ecstasy. No wonder Anna "resented his transports and ecstasies" [10] and longs to leave the cathedral and be back under the open sky.

 

And no wonder she turns to the gargolyes, which save her "from being swept forward headlong in the tide of passion that leaps on into the Infinite" [11] and help her to bring Will back down to earth with a bump.  

 

In brief: Anna's Dionysian euphoria triumphs over Will's Christian ecstasy ...

 

He still loves Lincoln Cathedral, but, after Anna has effectively disillusioned him by mocking his desire to consummate his love, even Will recognises there is life outside the church; that there are birds singing in the garden; flowers growing in the fields. 

 

And these things induce a sense of joy and wellbeing that was free and careless and "at once so sumptuous and so fresh, that he was glad he was away from his shadowy cathedral" [12]. 

 

 

IV. 

 

And on a cold and grey November morn, when all the autumn leaves have fallen and "I can hear the magpies laugh" [13], all it takes is a momentary break in the clouds and a ray of sunlight and I too feel strangely euphoric ...     

  

 

Notes

 

[1] Lyrics from the Killing Joke single 'Euphoria', released from the album Pylon (Spinefarm Records / Universal Music Group, 2015): click here to play. The melodic character and almost choral quality of this track reminds me of the songs on Brighter Than a Thousand Suns (E.G. Records / Virgin Records, 1986), which is certainly one of my favourite Killing Joke albums.  

      

[2] I'm not suggesting these are the only ways to induce ecstasy; other methods might include physical activities such as yoga, dancing, or working out at the gym. Others find quiet meditation in which they concentrate on their breathing does the trick.

 

[3] Freud defines the death drive as the will possessed by organic life forms to return to an inanimate state. It is the opposing (although complementary) force to the life instinct, Eros, which drives self-preservation and reproduction. Both drives belong to the same libidinal economy. See his Beyond the Pleasure Principle (1920). 

      Here, I will argue that whilst the desire to experience ecstasy is rooted in the death drive, euphoria is an expression of man's most vital self.   

 

[4] For Nietzsche, the story of Dionysus is form of thanksgiving and an affirmation of life; the promise that it will be eternally reborn (this in stark contrast to the figure of the Crucified, who counts as an objection to life and a curse upon it). 

 

[5] Rapture is derived from the Latin term raptus, meaning to seize and carry off; one is literally swept up with ecstasy and transported to another (better and more perfect) world. This is why certain evangelical Christians in the United States use this term as their great eschatological watchword. 

      For these religious fanatics, the Rapture is an end-times event when all Christian believers (including the resurrected dead) will rise in the clouds, to meet the Lord their God. Although this is a relatively recent theological development - first arising in the 1830s - the origin of the term can be traced back to the Bible which uses the Greek word ἁρπάζω (harpazo); see 1 Thessalonians, 4:13-18, where a gathering of the elect in Heaven is described after the Second Coming of Christ.     

 

[6] This term - Hinterweltler in the original German - is a coinage of Nietzsche's and refers to those lunatics who focus their hopes and values on a transcendental realm that one enters at death, thereby devaluing earthly life. 

     For Zarathustra, it was suffering and impotence which created the idea of an afterworld and whilst it may seem attractive to many, it is, he says, a humiliation to believe in such heavenly nonsense. He teaches men to listen rather to the voice of the healthy body and stay true to the earth. 

      See the section entitled 'Of the Afterworldsmen', in Part One of Thus Spoke Zarathustra (1883-85), trans. R. J. Hollingdale (Penguin Books, 1969), pp. 58-61. 

 

[7] Although the term bliss was later appropriated by those who like to imagine the spiritual delights of heaven, it was originally an Old English word (with a Proto-Germanic root) simply meaning joy in the mundane sense. 

 

[8] D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow, ed. Mark Kinkead-Weekes (Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 169-170. I discuss this scene - much loved by maiesiophiles everywhere - in the post 'On Dirty Dancing and the Virtue of Female Narcissism 2: The Case of Anna Brangwen' (30 July 2017) - click here - and again in a post titled 'Maiesiophilia' (8 Dec 2022): click here.   

       

[9] D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow ... p. 186.  

 

[10] Ibid., p. 188. 

 

[11] Ibid., p. 189. I discuss this scene at greater length in the post titled 'Believe in the Ruins: Reflections of a Gargoyle on the Great Fire of Notre-Dame de Paris' (16 April 2019): click here.  

 

[12] D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow ... p. 191.  

 

[13] Killing Joke, 'Euphoria' (2015), as cited in note 1 above.