Showing posts with label heinrich heine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heinrich heine. Show all posts

13 Sept 2026

Reflections on Monique Wittig's Les Guérillères (1969) 1: Fragments from a Lesbian Utopia

Cover of the first English edition 
(Peter Owen, London, 1971) [a]

 
Opening Remarks
 
I wouldn't go as far as Larry David and call myself a friend o' lesbians [b], but I certainly have no animosity against them and still find the murderous hatred expressed by Oliver Mellors one of the most shocking aspects of Lawrence's final novel [c].   
 
Further, I have read quite a lot of lesbian fiction and queer theory - from Radclyffe Hall's Well of Loneliness (1928) to Maggie Nelson's The Argonauts (2015), via Valerie Solanas's SCUM Manifesto (1967) and Judith Butler's Gender Trouble (1990). 
 
However, one of the books I have only very recently finished reading is Monique Wittig's novel Les Guérillères (1969) [d], and it's this work I wish to reflect on (and summarise) here. That is to say, offer a vaguely philosophical consideration of a work that I admire for its poetic feel and fragmentary structure [e], rather than write a straightforward commentary or review. 
 
I have to confess that I found the book difficult to follow at times due to its rejection of a standard chronological plot in favour of looping and shifting back and forth in time. That said, it's conveniently divided in three parts (like this post): part one appears to explore the lesbian utopia that follows victory in the war against men detailed in part three. The middle part deals with myth and memory.  
 
The fact that the novel has no single protagonist and instead relies on a collective voice - Wittig uses the feminine plural pronoun elles ('they') - is also something one has to get used to (even in an age in which pronoun use has become a regular topic of discussion) [f].   
 
 
Fragments from a Lesbian Utopia
 
(i) 
 
The novel opens in a lesbian utopia: a golden space of pissing in public, laughter, and lacunae in which fragrant females frolic amidst the foliage. Some of the women swim in the sea, but this doesn't sound much fun as it induces vomiting. Some of the women hunt. Some like to play hide and seek.
 
There are gardens and fields and a market with stalls selling all kinds of fruit that attract the wasps. No one seems bothered if the insects land on their bare arms, partly because they are too busy thinking about their own genitalia: the women seem to navigate through daily life thanks to their vulva and they like to expose their sex to the sun, capturing its brilliance.  
 
In this way they feel themselves illuminated. Were D. H. Lawrence telling their story, he would doubtless write of cunt awareness.
 
(ii) 
 
Interestingly, the women carry small books which they call feminaries [g]. 
 
These essentially consist of a few pages printed with fragments of myth, capitalised words, and biology lessons on the size, shape, and function of the clitoris. There are also a number of blank pages in which to write and experiment with (non-patriarchal) language - only don't call this écriture féminine [h].     
 
(iii) 
 
Each morning, after the sun has risen, they anoint their flesh with aromatic oils until their limbs are glistening and their naked bodies gleam. Sometimes they massage one another. 
 
If it's raining the women prefer to stay indoors. On particularly overcast days they shed warm tears.   
 
(iv)
 
The only thing that smells worse than the sea are the vapours given off by the peat bogs above the hills. And perhaps the mummified body kept by the gipsy women which they carry outside and expose to the sun. 
 
Sometimes the river floods - and that too stinks of putrescence, but that doesn't stop the women swimming in it and making the flying-fish leap into the air before falling back with a splash. 
 
(v)
 
The little girls are particularly fond of birds and search in the bushes and trees for goldfinches and green canaries, which they can catch and cover with kisses and cherish until they accidently hold the little birds too tightly and they die. 
 
(vi)
 
Of course, even in paradise, there is still work to be done: though this mostly seems to consist in gathering fruit from the trees. And construction work on a dam which may or may not have been sited in the wrong location (too far upstream). 
 
Cherry picking is so much easier than engineering!    
 
(vii)
 
In the evening, when the full moon has risen, a drum is sounded in the main square and the women drink until they fall dead-drunk or lose self-control. So not that different from a Friday night out on the Toon, no matter how lyrically described.      
 
(viii)
 
Are there any readers out there who know what glenuri are? I have to confess, I didn't. 
 
They seem to be imaginary creatures that the women like to keep as pets and take for walks: 
 
"Their long filiform bodies are supported on thousands of feet. [...] Their innumerable eyes are grouped round an enormous orifice that serves them as a mouth as well as taking the place of a head. It is filled by a soft extensile membrane that can become taut or relaxed, each of its movements producing a different sound. The harmony of the glenuri may be compared to [...] the croaking of toads the miaowing of rutting cats the sharp sound of a flute." (12) 
 
Unfortunately, the excursions with the glenuri on their leashes are not without difficulty, because they "constantly endeavour to move away to some place other than where they are" (12) and often get trapped in openings that afford passage to their bodies but not their large heads. 
 
When this happens, "they begin to utter frightful shrieks" (14) and have to be freed. 
 
Surely it would be easier to get a dog - though I can see why the descriptor man's best friend might be problematic in a feminist utopia.    
 
(ix)
 
As well as a sun-goddess who illuminates the sky, the women also worship a pin-headed goddess with yellow eyes and an ancient Greek name - Eristikos [ἐριστικός] - she who is argumentative and fond of discord [i].  
 
They also have a machine used to record divergences or disagreements. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it is in constant use 
 
(x)
 
Little birds and glenuri are not the only animals dear to les Guérillères - they also like to breast-feed baboons. 
 
Once they have finished suckling, the women throw the dog-faced monkeys to the ground and chase them back into the forest "until they have disappeared in the trees" (17). 
 
I guess this striking and surreal idea is intended to be a subversion of the so-called natural order which all too often reinforces and reflects the patriarchal order. By choosing to breastfeed baboons rather than human babies, Wittig's warrior women decouple the lactating female body from its role within the traditional family. 
 
In other words, it transforms an act traditionally associated with domesticity and passive motherhood into an act of radical autonomy. 
 
(xi)
 
Apart from breast-feeding baboons, the women share several tales involving animals: frogs, cats, and wolves, for example. They seem to suggest that women should stop interpreting themselves in terms of a mythical (and allegorical) model of nature that has been written by men. 
 
Such a model not only denigrates the animal, but it has nothing to do with the reality of lesbian identity existing not merely beyond the phallocratic (and heteronormative) order, but womanhood which, for Wittig, only exists in binary opposition to manhood - i.e., is a political and linguistic category, not a natural fact [j].

(xii)
 
It seems that in a lesbian utopia you have to make your own shampoo, using walnut oil, poppy seeds, and the crushed petals of macerated flowers. 
 
When they have enough of this home-made concoction, the women let down their hair and soak it in aromatic baths: "Their hands and arms glisten, their breasts are bare." (22)
 
(xiii)
 
Some of the women like to look at coloured engravings of women in royal blue uniforms marching.  
 
They also enjoy looking at photographs from the old times: particularly pictures of women taking industrial action - there's nothing sexier than striking textile workers on a picket line, or leading a street demo: "The faces are remarkable for their beauty." (24)   

(xiv)
 
Some of the women remember an old joke that had a punchline about the bird of Venus taking flight towards evening. Unfortunately, they can't quite remember the rest of it - only that it had something to do with the lips of the vulva (labia apparently resembling the wings of a dove).    
 
(xv)
 
According to Greek mythology, the Golden Fleece is the magical wool of a winged, golden-haired ram (named Chrysomallos) that became a supreme symbol of authority and kingship. 
 
But Wittig's warrior women claim to know nothing about this patriarchal myth and use the term to refer to their pubic hair (suggesting that they are all natural blondes - or perhaps I'm being overly literal in my reading here). 
  
(xvi)
 
The feminaries give pride of place "to the symbols of the circle, the circumference, the ring, the O, the zero" (27). The women seem to relate this to the Holy Grail (i.e., the sacred chalice used by Jesus at the Last Supper). 
 
For Nick Land, however, zero marks the ultimate thermodynamic and ontological destination of human history - but perhaps that's just saying the same thing?   
 
(xvii)
 
If I'm not mistaken, Prometheus hid the stolen fire inside the hollow stalk of a giant fennel plant (with their dry, slow-burning, pithy interiors, fennel stalks are ideal for this).
 
But les Guérillères seem to believe that it was a woman who stole fire from the gods - and hid it inside her vagina (which, I would imagine, is just about one of the least suitable places, being lined with extremely sensitive - and naturally moist - mucous membrane). 

(xviii)
 
The warrior women scorn Sleeping Beauty and regard her comatose condition as ugly passivity. 
 
Snow-White they have a slightly more favourable opinion of, but only after having reframed her story so that she becomes an active agent of female rebellion (rather more like her energetic and outgoing sister Rose-Red).
 
What they don't see - rather surprisingly - is that to value aggressive activity over gentle passivity is to fall back into a classical form of patriarchal thinking. 
 
One assumes that Wittig was aware of the problem here: that she is merely flipping terms in a binary, whilst still leaving the structure in place (i.e., only fulfilling the first - but absolutely necessary - step in a more radical deconstruction).     
 
(xix)
 
As a rule, I'm not in favour of book burning as the words of the German-Jewish poet Heinrich Heine still resonate in my imagination: 'Where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as well.' [k]
 
So, this passage towards the end of part one of Les Guérillères rather surprised me: 
 
"The women say that it may be that the feminaries have fulfilled their function. [...] They say that thoroughly indoctrinated as they are with ancient texts no longer to hand, these seem to them outdated. All they can do to avoid being encumbered with useless knowledge is to heap them up in the squares and set fire to them. That would be an excuse for celebrations." (30)
 
I know that defenders of the novel and of revolutionary utopias will tell me that while, yes, books are being burnt this is not advocating such a practice in the real world - that it must be understood as a symbolic act contained in a work of fiction, blah, blah, blah. 
 
But, even so, it troubles me and I'm not convinced that in order to create a genuinely free society or a brand-new world one must destroy the old ways of thinking and knowing and speaking - the myth of Year Zero only ever ends in tears and genocide, does it not?   
 
(xx) 
 
The name of where the women live is never mentioned. 
 
But we do know they live on a series of islands situated in the equatorial region, so it's hot and wet and not great for the lungs. 
 
And we know that there are sharks swimming in the tropical blue seas that surround the islands.   
 
And we know that sometimes the women like to leap about in the manner of kangaroos and sleep in the trees.    
 
 
Notes
 
[a] Considered a pivotal text by feminist and lesbian thinkers, Les Guérillères, by Monique Wittig, was originally published by Les Editions de Minuit (1969). David Le Vay's 1971 English translation has been used in numerous editions, including the Beacon Press edition (1985) and the University of Illinois Press edition (2007). 
      Here, I am using the /ubu Editions e-book (2007). This free digital publishing project - created as part of UbuWeb - is an online archive for avant-garde writing founded by the American poet and cultural provocateur Kenneth Goldsmith. For those who are interested, see the guest post by Simon Solomon on Goldsmith (14 Dec 2016), titled 'Magical Realism Without the Magic'  - the first part of a three-part series of posts by Solomon on the (displaced) task of the translator. 
 
[b] Curb Your Enthusiasm [S5/E2]: 'The Bowtie' (dir. Larry Charles, 2005). To watch the scene in which Larry explains to Jeff why lesbians love him and he has been completely embraced by the lesbian community, click the link provided. 
 
[c] See D. H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover, ed. Michael Squires (Cambridge University Press, 1993), p. 205. I discuss Mellors's hatred of lesbians in the post titled 'Lesbophobia' (30 June 2013). 
 
[d] I was inspired to do so after discussing Nick Land's reading of this work in his essay 'Kant, Capital, and the Prohibition of Incest: A Polemical Introduction to the Configuration of Philosophy and Modernity' (1988), which can be found in Fanged Noumena: Collected Writings 1987 - 2007, ed. Robin Mackay and Ray Brassier (Urbanomic / Sequence Press, 2011), pp. 55-80. 
      Wittig clearly had an important influence on Land - particularly the idea of Amazonian women leading a violent revolution. Also, for Land, heteronormative lifestyles are one of the major brakes on capital and so Wittig's lesbianism is valued in and of itself. See my post on this titled 'Fanged Noumena: On Nick Land and the New Amazons' (1 June 2026).
 
[e] Les Guérillères is divided into three parts consisting of seven sections (I'm not quite sure we can call them chapters). Each part is opened by a thick black circle printed in the centre of a blank page: a symbol which - like all true symbols - suggests many different things at once - a full moon, eternal recurrence, the female sex, or the mathematical value of zero. It might also make some readers think of Pauline Réage's Histoire d'O (1954). 
 
[f] In Les Guérillères, Wittig uses the collective feminine pronoun elles as the absolute universal subject. In other words, she used it to represent all of humanity - including men - thereby stripping the masculine pronoun of its claim to the universal.
 
[g] Wittig invented the literary concept of un féminaire to mean a small book or journal carried by women. In Les Guérillères, it is carried by warrior women in their lesbian utopia and contains a mix of historical fragments, private symbols, and entirely blank pages where the women can periodically write and record their own lives, thereby reclaiming language and narrative outside of patriarchal structures. 
      The term became so influential that a real-world second-wave radical feminist publication in the United States officially renamed itself Feminary: A Feminist Journal in 1974 to pay homage to Wittig’s novel. 
 
[h] Wittig rejected the concept of écriture féminine because she viewed it as rooted in a form of biological essentialism that trapped women within the very patriarchal categories (and binary system) they sought to escape. Instead, Wittig seeks to construct a post-patriarchal language instead that did away with grammatical structures that enforce gender and heterosexuality.
 
[i] Having said that, Wittig's warrior women also claim that, ultimately, they have no need for deities, myths, or religious symbols. It could be that they initially utilise goddess myths as a necessary fiction and tool for liberation, but abandon such once the war against men has been won. 
      However, I'm more than a little sceptical about their atheism: their whole way of life has a quasi-spiritual feel to it, even if what they choose to worship is their own genitalia - the cunt "regarded as the emblem of fecundity and the reproductive force in nature" (19) - and even if they reject the hierarchical structures that most religiously-minded people like to erect. 
 
[j] Although Wittig still holds to a socio-political (but non-essential) concept of woman in Les Guérillères, in her later theoretical writings she will insist that lesbians are not women. 
      Wittig first publicly asserted this in 1978 at the Modern Language Association (MLA) annual conference in New York, during her delivery of the paper 'The Straight Mind', which can be found in her 1992 essay collection The Straight Mind and Other Essays (Beacon Press, 1992). 
 
[k] Heine wrote the line in his tragic play Almansor (1823). The original German line (in full) reads: "Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen.
      Heine was prophetically referring to the burning of the Quran during the Spanish Inquisition, though the line tragically foreshadowed the Nazi book burnings in Germany over a century later. 
 
 
To read part two of this post - Fragments of Myth & Memory (15 Sept 2026) - click on the link.  
 
To read part three of this post - La guerre! À quoi ça sert? (17 Sept 2026)- click on the link. 
 
 

22 Apr 2023

I Am Heinrich Heine

Portrait of Heinich Heine 
by Moritz Daniel Oppenheim (1831)
 
I. 
 
Readers may recall that I recently had a run-in with the Google censor-bots [1] that now patrol the sites hosted by Blogger, seeking out content which infringes their community guidelines.
 
Several posts on Torpedo the Ark have now been flagged for review and subsequently placed behind warning notices which let readers know that they contain sensitive content
 
Although they can still access the offending posts if they wish to do so, readers must first acknowledge these notices and confirm they are old enough to access adult material.  
 
As for me, I'm invited by the Blogger Team to update the content so as to adhere to Blogger's guidelines; once I have done so, I can then republish the posts and ask that their status be reviewed.
 
 
II. 
 
If all this wasn't troubling enough, Google have now gone a step further and actively deleted a post - without any prior notice or permission sought - on the grounds that it doesn't simply infringe but violates their guidelines - which is a particularly strong term to use. 
 
Just for the record: the post in question - 'On the Figure of the Prostitute' (15 May 2013) - did not advocate vice nor lend support to the illegal sex trade; nor did it use an image that could possibly be described as obscene or pornographic.
 
In fact, the post was a critique of sexual exploitation within a free market economy and phallocratic order, which affirmed the feminist position that within such an order there are no bad women, only bad laws. 
 
So, I'm a little puzzled as to what it is Google find so offensive in the above post - and I'm more than a little troubled by the threatening (and fascistic) nature of their closing remark:
 
"We encourage you to review the full content of your blog posts to make sure that they are in line with our standards, as additional violations could result in termination of your blog." 
 
One can only respond to this by paraphrasing the words of the nineteenth century German-Jewish poet Heinrich Heine: Where they terminate blogs, they will, in the end, terminate human beings too ... [2]
 
 
Notes
 
[1] See the post entitled 'Torpedo the Ark Versus the Censor-Bots' (1 March 2023): click here
 
[2] In his play of 1821, Almansor, Heinrich Heine wrote: "Dort, wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen."


13 Jun 2020

You Say You Want a Revolution ...?



I.

Initially, Black Lives Matter was a civil rights movement for a younger, angrier, more woke generation of activists and campaigners concerned about issues to do with racial justice and equality. But it seems to now be in the vanguard of a broader movement demanding a full-scale cultural revolution and an end to what they perceive to be a violently oppressive and institutionally racist old order.

Of course, we've seen this call for a total transformation of everyday life (and the subsequent humiliation or destruction of one's enemies) before: in Hitler's Germany in the 1930s, for example; and, more recently, in Mao's China in the 1960s.

It wasn't pleasant then and it isn't pleasant now. Nor do I think it's going to end any happier. Restrictions on freedom of speech and the insistence that everyone toe the politically correct line or face the consequences, never do. Nor do attempts to sanitise the past and purge society of undesirable elements

To protest and to rebel may be justified; and, doubtless, there are many old habits, customs, and ideas that need to be challenged. But to destroy works of art and historical artefacts in the name of an ideology that believes itself to be infallible and morally superior is something we should be extremely wary of.

For I think the poet Heinrich Heine was right in 1820 and he's still right now, two hundred years later: Where they burn books, they will also ultimately burn people. To their credit, even The Beatles understood this; as their counter-revolutionary track 'Revolution' demonstrates ...


II.

Inspired by anti-war protests and student uprisings, John Lennon's lyrics express sympathy with the need for radical social change, but serious reservations over the violent tactics adopted by some on the so-called New Left. The song concludes that there's no need for direct action as everything's gonna be alright (that is to say, ideals of peace and love will triumph in the end). It also explicitly dismisses the cult of personality surrounding Chairman Mao.

Of course, countercultural comrades and hardline communists of every variety immediately branded Lennon a traitor and collaborator. They were shocked not only by his Transcendental fatalism, but by his humour and expressed need to see details (or a plan) for how a revolution might work. The New Left Review dismissed the song as a 'lamentable petty bourgeois cry of fear' and even the French film director Jean-Luc Godard denounced the Beatle for his apoliticism and suggested that he and other band members had been corrupted by money.

Duly chastened by the criticism he received, Lennon subsequently declared himself to be a revolutionary after all. However, in an interview shortly before his death in 1980, he again voiced his rejection of political violence and terror and reaffirmed the more pacifist sentiments expressed in 'Revolution': 'Don't expect me on the barricades unless it's with flowers.'           

To be honest, I don't have much affection for Lennon. But I admire the stand he took here and his scorn for the militant asceticism and extremer than thou snobbery of those on the far left openly motivated by resentment and hatred. And I think that those who call naively for revolution today and pose with clenched fists held aloft, should stop to consider that they ain't going to make it with anyone anyhow ...


Play: The Beatles, 'Revolution', B-side to the single release 'Hey Jude', (Apple, 26 August 1968): click here.

Note: the above promo film, dir. Michael Lindsay-Hogg, was first broadcast on Top of the Pops (BBC One) on 19 September, 1968. 

See: Daniel Chirot, You Say You Want a Revolution?, (Princeton University Press, 2020). In this new study, Chirot - a Professor of Russian and Eurasian studies at the University of Washington - examines why most modern revolutions have ended in bloodshed and failure and what lessons they hold for today's world of growing extremism. The image above is from the front cover to this text.


13 Jun 2018

The Ballerina is Not a Girl Dancing



In a late prose piece, Mallarmé makes the provocative claim that "the ballerina is not a girl dancing".

Indeed, according to Mallarmé, she's not even a girl, but a living metaphor; symbolising "some elemental aspect of earthly form", such as a flower or a swan.

And she doesn't dance so much as use her body - "with miraculous lunges and abbreviations" - to produce and perform a special kind of condensed writing whose ties to a metaphysically stable world of referents have been snapped: une écriture corporelle.

Thus, whilst not quite one and the same thing, ballet and poetry are semiotically entwined; they are both formalised and ritualised aesthetic sign systems, designating truth that is plural and uncertain.

And this is why Nietzsche loved both art forms and not only held great poets such as Goethe and Heinrich Heine in the highest regard, but blessed the feet and fair ankles of sweet girls who, in dancing, transcend their gender and humanity and bring meaning to a crisis.     


See: Stéphane Mallarmé, 'Ballets', in Divagations, trans. Barbara Johnson, (Harvard University Press, 2009). 


23 Aug 2017

On Operational Whitewash

Mark Tansey 
Robbe-Grillet Cleansing Every Object in Sight (1981)
Oil on canvas with crayon
(182.9 x 183.4 cm)


Like many of his pictures, Mark Tansey's Robbe-Grillet Cleansing Every Object in Sight (1981), is a lot more interesting than it first appears and certainly shouldn't be mistaken for a work of banal realism or straightforward representation, even if it utilizes certain conventions and structures of figurative painting. To fully appreciate its philosophical importance requires an awareness of how art is essentially a symbolic medium; i.e., a space in which different meanings interact.

The first thing one notices upon closer inspection of the canvas is that the human figure is not simply a madman scrubbing any old objects lying about randomly in the desert. They are, rather, the ruins of the Sphinx and Stonehenge; the remains of formerly great civilizations and long-dead peoples, the spirits of whom still haunt the present.    

Robbe-Grillet isn't attempting to remove the dust and the dirt from these fragments of the past in the naive and vain hope of one day reassembling them, driven by ideals of Unity and Wholeness. He is, rather, trying to cleanse them of significance, of their markings and metaphors, to remove every trace of meaning from them.

It's the ultimate act of iconoclasm and forms part of what Jean Baudrillard referred to as the operational whitewashing of human history. Everything is cleansed of evil until nothing remains that might possibly upset or offend or trouble anyone of a liberal-snowflake disposition; it's political correctness gone retroviral - guaranteeing a more inclusive tomorrow by destroying the past and all memory of the past and its divisions.

Baudrillard also described this form of self-inflicted social leukemia as the perfect crime; the murder not only of the real, but also of the imaginary until all that remains is a kind of aseptic whiteness (free of all shadow and every dark glimmer of fate and negativity).

I thought of all this - of Baudrillard's operational whitewash and of Mark Tansey's 1981 painting - when reading about those activists, anti-fascists, and assorted social justice warriors in America intent on smashing statues, tearing down monuments, burning books, and censoring images that don't correspond with how they want the world to be and to have been.

Not that this is limited to the US: the writer, broadcaster and Oxford graduate, Afua Hirsch, has recently called for Nelson's column to be pulled down on the grounds that Nelson was "what you would now call, without hesitation, a white supremacist", who used his power and influence to vigorously defend slavery and thus "perpetuate the tyranny, serial rape and exploitation" of black people.  

Ms Hirsch continues:

"It is figures like Nelson who immediately spring to mind when I hear the latest news of confederate statues being pulled down in the US. These memorials - more than 700 of which still stand in states including Virginia, Georgia and Texas - have always been the subject of offence and trauma for many African Americans, who rightly see them as glorifying the slavery and then segregation of their not so distant past."

Just to be clear: (i) I'm not entirely unsympathetic to those who advance this line of argument; (ii) I really don't give a shit about those historical figures who are immortalised as the great and the good; (iii) I think a lot of the vile abuse directed at Ms Hirsch for simply expressing her view is absolutely shameful.

However, the concern remains - as Heine recognised almost 200 years ago - that where cultural and historical artefacts are destroyed one day, human beings will be murdered the next ... For if you really want to wipe out all trace of European colonialism and the Atlantic slave trade, then it follows with a certain genocidal logic that you have to get rid of the descendants of the slave owners too; every white face becomes a provocation.

Indeed, even that might not do the trick. Because the descendants of the peoples who were enslaved also carry this history within them; they are, if you like, in their rage and resentment and inability to forget, living monuments to a terrible past. Thus they would ultimately have to abolish themselves.

And this is why peace on earth isn't accomplished until the last man kills the last but one and then tops himself, leaving behind a smiling corpse ...  


Notes 

Jean Baudrillard, 'Operational Whitewash', The Transparency of Evil, trans. James Benedict, (Verso, 1993), pp. 44-50. 

Afua Hirsch, 'Toppling statues? Here's why Nelson's column should be next', The Guardian (22 Aug 2017): click here

This post is for Thomas Bonneville.