🦋🤖 Robo-Spun by IBF 🦋🤖

(All parts in English)

Allow me, my dear friends, once again, to question this audience, in every sense of the term, the assistance you are giving me,
and particularly today, by following me all in a third— for some of you— in a third of my travels.
Before resuming this interrogation, nevertheless, I cannot do less than to clarify— in order to thank those who deserve it— how I am here.
It is by virtue of a loan, which the Faculty of Law is kind enough to grant to a certain number of my colleagues
from the Hautes Études, to whom it has graciously added me. May the Faculty of Law, and particularly its highest authorities,
notably the Dean, be here by me— and, I think, with your assent— thanked.

As perhaps the notice has informed you, I will not be speaking here…
not, of course, that the place is not offered to me every Wednesday…
I will only be speaking here on the 2nd and 3rd Wednesday of each month,
thus freeing myself, undoubtedly for other duties, on the other Wednesdays.

And notably, I believe I can announce that on the first of these Wednesdays of the month, at least in part…
that is to say, every other month, and thus I will begin next month, the month of December…
on the first Wednesdays of December, February, April, and June, I will go to Vincennes to deliver…
not my seminar, as it was erroneously announced…
but something which, in contrast and to emphasize that it is something else, I have taken care to name “four impromptus,”
to which I have given a humorous title that you will discover at the location where it is already posted.

Since, as you see, I enjoy leaving certain indications in suspense, I take this opportunity to quickly free myself
from a scruple that has remained with me, concerning a kind of reception I gave,
which, upon reflection, turned out to be rather ungracious— not that I intended it to be, but it happened to be so.
One day, a person— who may be here and will likely not reveal themselves— approached me
on the street just as I was getting into a taxi.

They stopped their moped for this purpose, to say to me:

— Are you Dr. Lacan?
— Yes, I told them, and why?
— Are you resuming your seminar?
— But yes, soon.
— And where?

And there, no doubt because I had my reasons, which they will hopefully understand, I responded:

— You will see.

Whereupon they departed on their little moped, which they had unlocked with such agility
that I was left both taken aback and burdened with remorse. [Laughter]
It is this remorse that I wanted to express today by offering them my apologies—
if they are here— so that they may forgive me.

In truth, this is certainly an occasion to note that it is never an excess— in any way—
by someone else that one appears, at least apparently, exasperated.
It is always because this excess coincides with an excess of your own.
It is because I was already, on this point, in a certain state representing an excess of concern,
that I no doubt reacted in a manner that I very quickly found untimely.

Well then, let us enter— on this note— into what we will be bringing this year.
“Psychoanalysis in Reverse,” I have thought it fitting to title this seminar.
Do not think that this title owes anything to the present events that would fancy themselves
on the verge of turning a certain number of places upside down.

I will offer only this as proof: that in a text dated 1966,
specifically in one of those introductions…
which I wrote at the time of compiling my Écrits…
one of those introductions that punctuate this collection, entitled Of Our Antecedents…
it appears, if my memory serves me correctly and if I have noted it properly, on page 68…
I very precisely allude to, or more exactly, I characterize what the “discourse” has been, as I put it,
as a reversal— I say— of the Freudian project. It was written, therefore, well before the events.

What does this mean?
Last year, in any case with great insistence, I distinguished what discourse is,
as a necessary structure of something that far exceeds speech, which is always more or less incidental.
What I prefer, I have said— and even once posted— is a discourse without speech.

In truth, it can very well subsist without words.
It subsists in certain fundamental relations which literally could not exist without language,
without the establishment, through the instrument of language, of a certain number of stable relations,
within which something can certainly be inscribed that goes much further,
that is much broader than what pertains to actual enunciations.

There is no need for these enunciations for our conduct, for our acts,
to be inscribed within the framework of certain primordial statements.
If it were not so, what would become of what we find in experience, and especially in analytic experience—
this one being evoked at this juncture only because it has been precisely designated—
what would become of what appears to us in the aspect of the superego?

There are structures; we cannot designate them otherwise in order to characterize
what can be delineated from this “in the form of…”
on which last year I took the liberty of emphasizing a particular use,
what was at stake in what takes place through the fundamental relation,
the one I define as: from one signifier to another signifier.

This is the fundamental relation, the one I designate as the source
from which emerges what we call the subject,
this being by virtue of the signifier, which on this occasion functions
as the representative— this subject— in relation to another signifier.
What is at stake here, how can we situate this fundamental form, this form which, if you will allow, without further delay,
we shall this year write down, no longer— as I stated last year— as the exteriority of the signifier S₁,
that from which our definition of discourse originates, as we will emphasize in this first step.

Thus, I place the signifier S₁ to manifest what results from its relation
with this circle, of which I only trace a mark here.
I had marked here the symbol A, the field of the big Other, but let us simplify.
We consider, designated by the sign S₂, the battery of signifiers, those that are already there.

For at the point of origin where we position ourselves to define what discourse is,
discourse conceived as the status of the enunciation,
S₁ is to be seen as the one intervening,
intervening in what pertains to a battery of signifiers
which we have no right, ever, to regard as scattered,
as not already forming the network of what is called knowledge.

What arises first…
from this moment where S₁ comes to represent something,
by its intervention in the defined field, at the point where we are…
as the field already structured as knowledge, what is its supposed hypokeimenon (ὑποχείμενον)—
is the subject,
insofar as it represents this specific trait,
to be distinguished from what pertains to the living individual,
who is assuredly its locus, its point of inscription,
but who, of course, does not belong to the order—
the order of what the subject introduces by virtue of the status of knowledge.

Undoubtedly, it is here, around the word knowledge,
the point of ambiguity upon which we must today place emphasis,
that which already, through various paths, trails, moments of illumination, flashes of insight,
I believe I have attuned your ears to perceive.
It happened last year…
let me note this for those who took note of it, for those in whom perhaps it still lingers in their thoughts…
it happened last year that I called this knowledge:
“The jouissance of the Other.”

It is a peculiar matter, a formulation which, in truth, had never before been uttered.
It is no longer new,
since already last year, I was able to give it before you a sufficient semblance of plausibility,
since I was able to elaborate on it
without provoking particular objections.
This is one of the points of rendezvous I announced for this year.

Let us first complete what initially stood on two feet:

then on three:

let us now give it its fourth:

This, I have since, I believe, sufficiently emphasized,
and especially last year, since last year’s seminar was dedicated to this:
“From One Other to the Other,” I titled it.
This other, the little one, with its capital L, its L of notoriety,
was what we designated…
at this level, which is of algebra, which is of signifying structure…
it is what we designate as the object (a).

At this level of signifying structure, we have only to concern ourselves with the way it operates.
At this level of signifying structure, we are free to observe what it does if we write these things down,
to give the entire system “a quarter turn.”

This famous “quarter turn” that I have been speaking of for quite some time now…
on many other occasions, particularly since the publication of what I wrote under the title Kant with Sade…
so that one might think that perhaps one day, it would be seen that this is not limited to what is called the “Z” schema,
but that there are other reasons for this “quarter turn” beyond the mere accident of imaginary representation.

Here is an example:

If we take things properly, if it appears established that the chain, the succession of what concerns the letters of this algebra,
cannot be disrupted, if you engage in this operation that I have called the “quarter turn,”
we will obtain no more than four structures, one of which, written here on the left, in a sense shows us the departure point.
It is very easy to quickly produce, on paper, the two remaining ones.

→ → →

This is not meant to define an apparatus that imposes absolutely nothing,
as one might say of certain perspectives,
nothing abstract from any reality. On the contrary,
it is already inscribed in what functions as this reality
I was speaking of earlier— the discourse that is already in the world and that sustains it,
at least the one we are familiar with.

It is there— not merely already inscribed, but forming part of its frameworks—
that this symbolic chain…
of course, the shape of the letters in which we inscribe it does not matter,
as long as they are distinct…
that something within it manifests a constant relation.

Such is this form, in that it states that it is at the point, at the very moment when S₁…
this is the continuation of what our discourse will develop here, which will tell us what meaning
should be assigned to this moment…
it is at the moment when this S₁ intervenes in the already constituted field of other signifiers…
insofar as they already articulate among themselves as such…
that by intervening alongside another [signifier] of this system, there emerges this: S,
which is what we have called the subject as divided.

But we have always emphasized that from this trajectory, something defined as a loss arises,
and that this is what is designated by the letter that is read as the object (a).
Of course, we have not failed to designate the point from which we extract this function of the lost object:
from Freud’s discourse on the specific meaning of repetition in the speaking being.

For what is at stake in repetition is not just any biological effect of memory.
Repetition has a particular relation to what, in this subject and in this knowledge,
constitutes the limit called jouissance.
That is why it is a matter of logical articulation in the formula:
“Knowledge is the jouissance of the Other.”
Of the Other, of course, insofar— for there is no Other—
insofar as it is brought into existence as a field through the intervention of the signifier.

No doubt you will tell me that, in sum, we are always going around in circles:
– the signifier, the Other, knowledge,
– the signifier, the Other, knowledge…

And it is precisely here that the term jouissance allows us to pinpoint the point of insertion of the apparatus,
and no doubt…
by stepping outside of what is authentically recognizable as knowledge…
to refer us to the limits, to the off-field,
the one that Freud’s speech dares to confront,
when from all that it articulates there results— results what?—
not knowledge, but confusion,
for from confusion it [Freud’s speech] has led us to draw reflection and,
since it concerns limits, to step outside the system.

Step outside by virtue of what? A thirst for meaning?
As if the system needed it! The system has no need!
And we, beings of weakness, as we shall find ourselves throughout this year at every turn,
we need meaning.

Well, here is one.
It may not be the true one, but what is certain is that we will also see
that there are many “it may not be the true one,”
whose insistence precisely suggests to us the resignation [slip]…
the dimension of truth.

Well then, let us note the very ambiguity that has arisen,
in the stupidity of psychoanalysis, around the word Trieb,
insofar as, instead of applying itself to grasp how this category is articulated…
undoubtedly not without precedent,
I mean not without a “pre-existing use,” and which reaches far back, all the way to Kant…
of the word Trieb.

But still, what this serves in analytic discourse
would certainly deserve that one not rush too quickly to translate it by the word “instinct.”
And yet, these slippages do not occur without reason.

And after all, although we have long insisted on the aberrant nature of this translation,
we are nevertheless entitled to take advantage of it—
not, of course, to legitimize— and especially not in this context— the notion of instinct,
but to recall what, in Freud’s discourse, makes it inhabitable,
and to simply attempt— this discourse— to make it inhabit otherwise.

Popularly, the idea of instinct is indeed the idea of a knowledge,
a knowledge of which one is incapable of saying what it means,
but which is supposed— and not without justification—
to have as its result that life persists.
If we assign meaning to what Freud states about the pleasure principle
as essential to the functioning of life,
as being that which maintains the lowest level of tension,
is this not precisely stating what the rest of his discourse demonstrates
as being imposed upon him, imposed by the development— of what?—
of an experience, of analytic experience,
insofar as it is a structure of discourse?

For let us not forget that it is not by observing people’s behavior
that the death drive was invented.
The death drive— we have it here,
where something happens between you and what I say.
I say: “what I say,” I am not speaking about what I am.
What would be the point, since, after all, it is evident through your presence?

It is not that it speaks in my favor. [Laughter]
Sometimes— and most often— it speaks in my place.
What justifies, in any case, that I say something here
is what I would call “the essence of this manifestation”
that has been— successively— the various audiences
that I have drawn according to the places from which I spoke.

[1) Hôpital Sainte-Anne, Paris XIV,
2) École Normale Supérieure, rue d’Ulm, Paris V,
3) and currently Université Paris I, Panthéon-Sorbonne, Paris V]

I was very keen to branch off somewhere…
because today seemed to me to be the day,
today when I am in yet another place…
to point out that this place has always had its weight
in shaping the style of what I have called “this manifestation.”

Manifestation— this means something
which I also do not want to miss the opportunity to say
has a relation to the common meaning of the term interpretation.
What I have said by, for, and within your audience
has always already been interpreted at each of the times
I have defined for you as geographical locations.

I will return to this because it will have to find its place
in the small rotating quadripods
that I am beginning to make use of today.
But so as not to leave you completely in the void,
I indicate that if I had to interpret—
I mean, to pin down as interpretation—
this, which moves in the opposite direction of analytic interpretation,
this, which makes us strongly feel how much analytic interpretation itself
runs counter to the common meaning of the term interpret,
— that is, if I were to pin down the interpretation of what I was saying at Sainte-Anne, for example,
— I would say that the most tangible, the string that truly vibrated, was laughter.

The most exemplary figure in that audience…
which was certainly medical,
but still, there were also a few attendees who were not…
was the one who stitched my discourse together
with a sort of continuous stream of gags.
This is what I would take as the most characteristic feature
of what was, for ten years, the essence of my manifestation.
Things only began to turn sour from the day— and this is yet another proof—
when I devoted a trimester to the analysis of the joke. [Laughter]

I cannot dwell too long in this direction—
it is a large parenthesis—
but I must still add the characteristics of interpretation
from the place where you last left me.
Like this— it is absolutely magnificent in its initials [E.N.S.]—
it revolves around being [ens, Latin].
One must always know how to make use of literal equivocations,
especially since it is very important—
these are the first three letters of the word enseigner [to teach].
That is where it was realized that what I was saying was a teaching.
Before that, it was not one at all,
it was not even acknowledged as such,
professors— and especially doctors— were quite worried.

The fact that it was not at all medical
cast significant doubt on whether it was worthy of the title of teaching,
until the day when some young men appeared…
you know, those from the Cahiers pour l’analyse…
until the day when some young men, trained in a corner,
as I had said long before, precisely in the time of the gags—
that corner where, by virtue of formation,
one knows nothing, but teaches it admirably.

That they interpreted what I was saying in this way
does indeed have meaning—
it is yet another interpretation.
Analytic interpretation…

Naturally, we do not know what will happen here [Université Paris I, Panthéon-Sorbonne, Paris V].
I do not know if law students will come,
but in truth, that would be crucial, truly crucial.
This is probably the most important of the three locations,
since what is at stake this year
is to take psychoanalysis in reverse.

Perhaps this means precisely giving it its status,
in the juridical sense of the term.
In any case, it surely has always been fundamentally connected—
and at its ultimate point— with the structure of discourse.
If law is not that,
if it is not there that we touch upon how discourse structures the real world,
then where would it be?

That is why we are no worse off here than anywhere else.
It is not simply for reasons of convenience
that I have accepted this opportunity.
That this displaces you in your travels
should not be too much of a disturbance,
at least for those who were accustomed to the other side.
[Université Paris I: Place du Panthéon, and E.N.S.: Rue d’Ulm, are close by].

There is one thing:
I am not very sure that parking is very convenient,
but after all, you still have Rue d’Ulm.
Let us resume.

We had arrived at our “instinct” and at our knowledge,
situated, in sum, within what Bichat defines as life:

“Life…

…he says, and it is the deepest definition,
it is not at all banal if you look closely—

…is the totality of forces that resist death.”

Read what Freud says about life’s resistance
to the “inclination toward Nirvana,”
as the death drive was otherwise named
at the moment he introduced it.

No doubt, within analytic experience…
an experience of discourse…
this inclination toward the return to the inanimate presents itself.
Freud goes as far as that.

But what he states, he says, is what sustains this bubble…
truly, the image imposes itself upon the hearing of these pages…
that life only returns there by paths, always the same, that it has once and for all well traced.

What is this, if not the true meaning given to what we find in the notion of instinct,
of the implication of a knowledge?
That path, that road, we know it— it is ancestral knowledge.
And this knowledge, what is it?

If we do not forget the point where Freud…
beyond the pleasure principle, beyond the reality principle…
introduces what he himself calls Beyond the Pleasure Principle,
which, however, is not thereby overturned.
The proof is, quite precisely, that knowledge is what ensures that life stops at a certain limit toward jouissance.

The path toward death…
this is what it is about— it is a discourse on masochism…
the path toward death is nothing other than what we call jouissance.

This primitive relation between knowledge and jouissance—
it is there that what emerges is inserted…
at the moment when the apparatus appears…
what pertains to the signifier.
It is conceivable, then, that we connect the function of this emergence of the signifier.

Enough! What need do we have to explain everything?
And the origin of language— why not!
Everyone knows that in order to correctly structure knowledge,
one must renounce the question of origins,
and that what we are doing here, as I have told you,
with respect to what we have to develop this year, is to construct a structure.

What we are doing in articulating this is superfluous,
a vain pursuit of meaning, already.
Let us take into account what we are.
It is at the juncture of a jouissance…
and not just any jouissance— it must undoubtedly remain opaque…
it is at the juncture of a jouissance privileged among all others,
not by being sexual jouissance,
since what this jouissance designates as being at the juncture,
as I was just saying, is the loss of sexual jouissance— it is castration.

It is in relation to the juncture with sexual jouissance
that in the fable— Freud’s fable of repetition—
there emerges the engendering of something radical,
which gives body to an articulated schema:
it is to the extent that
– S₁ having emerged, as a first moment,
– repeats itself alongside S₂,
– whence emerges— in the establishment of the relation [i.e., the “relation” S₁ → S₂]— the subject,
that something represents a certain loss,
for which it is worth making this effort toward meaning
in order to grasp its ambiguity.

It is not for nothing that this same object,
which elsewhere I had designated as that around which,
in analysis, the entire dialectic of frustration is organized,
this same object, last year as well,
I called surplus-jouissance (plus-de-jouir).
This means that the loss of the object is also the gap,
the hole opened to something of which we do not know
whether it is the representation of the lack-to-jouir,
which is situated in the process of knowledge,
insofar as there it takes on an entirely different inflection,
becoming henceforth a knowledge punctuated by the signifier.
Is it even the same?

The relation to jouissance is suddenly intensified
by this still virtual function, which is called that of desire.
And it is precisely for this reason
that I articulate surplus-jouissance as what appears here—
not as a forcing, nor as a transgression…
Let’s cut short, I beg you, around this confusion!

If analysis reveals anything…
I invoke here those who have a soul beyond that
which one might say, as Barrès says of the corpse,
that it stammers…
it is precisely this: that one transgresses nothing!

Sneaking through is not transgressing;
seeing a door slightly ajar is not crossing through it.
We will have occasion to return to what I am in the process of introducing.
Here, it is not a transgression,
but rather an irruption,
a fall into the field of something belonging to the order of jouissance— a surplus.
Well, even that— perhaps that is what must be paid for.
That is why last year, concerning this surplus-jouissance,
I told you: in Marx, the (a) that is there
is recognized as functioning…
at the level articulated by analytic discourse, and not another…
recognized as surplus-jouissance.

This is what Marx discovers
as what truly passes at the level of surplus-value.
For, of course, it is not Marx who invented surplus-value,
but only— before him— no one knew where it belonged:
the same ambiguous place I have just described,
that of excess labor, of surplus-labor.

What does it pay for— he asks—
if not precisely a jouissance that, after all,
must go somewhere?
What is troubling is that if one pays for it,
one has it,
and from there, it is no longer so urgent to waste it.
But if one does waste it, then all sorts of consequences follow.
Let us leave the matter in suspense for now.

What am I doing?
I am beginning to make you accept,
simply by having situated it,
that this apparatus, with its four legs,
with its four positions,
can serve to define four radical discourses.
It is no accident that its form—
the one I have given you as the first— is:

M

But nothing says that I could not have started from any other,
for instance, from this one on the left:

H

There is a fact, determined by historical reasons,
which makes this first form [discourse M],
which is articulated from this signifier
that represents a subject in relation to another signifier,
important because it is this one that…
in what we will articulate this year…
will be singled out among the four
as being the articulation of the discourse of the Master.

The discourse of the Master— I think it is unnecessary to remind you of its historical importance,
since, after all, you are recruited through that sieve called the university,
and as such, you are not unaware that philosophy speaks only of this.

Even before it spoke only of this— that is to say, before it called it by its name…
a salient point in Hegel, particularly illustrated by him…
it was already manifest that it was within the field,
at the level of the discourse of the Master,
that something had appeared—
something that nonetheless concerns us, concerns us in relation to discourse,
whatever its ambiguity, and which is called philosophy.

Now, I do not know how far I will be able to push
what I have to pin down for you today, to point out to you.
I remind you that we must not delay
if we are to cover the four discourses in question.
What are the others called?
I will tell you right away— why not?—
if only to whet your appetite.

→ → →
H M ? A

The one on the left is the discourse of the hysteric.
You don’t see it right away, do you? [Laughter]
It’s not obvious at first, but I will explain it.
And then the other two:
– One is the discourse of the analyst.
– And the other one— no, definitely, I won’t tell you who it is… [Laughter]
I won’t tell you because simply saying it today
would lead to too many misunderstandings.
But you’ll see, it’s a discourse that is entirely contemporary.

Well then, let us return to the discourse of the Master,
to the extent that I must establish what pertains
to the designation of the present algebraic apparatus,
as providing the structure of the discourse of the Master.

Here [S₁], let us say, to move quickly,
the signifier— the function of the signifier
on which the essence of the Master rests.
You may perhaps remember something else
that I emphasized several times last year:
that the proper domain of the slave is knowledge [S₂].

There is no doubt, if we read the testimonies we have from antiquity,
at least the discourse that was held about this life…
read Politics by Aristotle on this matter…
that what I assert about the slave,
as being characterized as the one who serves as the support of knowledge,
is beyond doubt.

What defines the position of the slave,
insofar as, in antiquity, he was not,
like our modern slave, merely a class,
but a function inscribed within the family.
When Aristotle speaks of the slave,
he is just as much within the family
and even more within the State,
and he is so because he is the one who possesses a know-how.

This is very important,
because before knowing whether knowledge knows itself,
before we can establish a subject on the perspective of knowledge
being entirely transparent to itself,
one must first exhaust the register of what, originally, is know-how.
Now, what is happening— what is happening before our eyes—
and which gives its meaning…
a first meaning, you will have others…
to philosophy,
we have a very fortunate trace of it, thanks to Plato.

And it is essential to remember this
in order to situate, to put in its place,
that after all, if something has meaning in what preoccupies us,
it can only be to put things in their place
[cf. first definition of the Real: “that which always returns to the same place”].
What philosophy designates throughout its entire evolution is this:
the theft, the seizure,
the removal of knowledge from the slave,
by the operation of the Master.
It suffices to have a bit of practice—
and God knows that for sixteen years
I have made an effort for those who listen to me to acquire this practice—
a bit of practice with Plato’s dialogues to notice it.

What are these two faces of knowledge that I will call by this name on this occasion:
– this know-how, so akin to animal knowledge,
– but which, in the slave, is absolutely not deprived— of course—
of that apparatus which turns it into a linguistic network— of course—
among the most articulated.

Because it is precisely about this— the second layer, the articulated apparatus—
to realize that this can be transmitted,
which means that it can be transmitted from the pocket of the slave
to that of the Master— if indeed, at that time, they had pockets!

And the entire effort of extracting what is called ἐπιστήμη [epistēmē]…
it’s a strange word, I don’t know if you have ever really thought about it:
“to position oneself correctly,”
like Vorstellung— it’s the same…
the effort is to find the position
so that knowledge becomes the knowledge of the Master.

The function of ἐπιστήμη [epistēmē] as transmissible knowledge,
it is specified as such…
refer to Plato’s dialogues…
it is always entirely borrowed from recourse to artisanal— that is to say, servile— techniques.
What is at stake is extracting its essence
so that it becomes the knowledge of the Master.

And then, naturally,
this is doubled by a little backlash,
which is entirely— how shall I put it—
what one calls a slip,
a return of the repressed.

But— says so-and-so…
whether it is Callimachus or another…
but what am I saying,
refer to Meno,
there, at the moment when it concerns √2, isn’t it,
and its incommensurability…
there is one who says:
“Come now, the slave— but let him come, the dear little one— he knows.”

He is asked questions— questions of the Master, of course— and since the slave naturally responds to the questions
with the answers already dictated by those very questions,
one finds here, in this form of resignation, of derision,
of a way to mock the figure who is being turned over on the grill,
a clear demonstration that the seriousness, the aim, is this:
that the slave knows, and that by only admitting it in this mode of derision,
what is truly at stake is concealed—
it is the appropriation of the slave’s function at the level of knowledge.

And in order to give meaning to what I have just stated,
it would, of course, be necessary— but that will be our next step—
to examine how the position of the slave is articulated—
and this is what I had already begun to say last year—
in relation to jouissance.
It was only a myth, a picturesque myth,
but everyone knows that what is interesting
is what within it contradicts the commonly held idea,
namely, that jouissance is the privilege of the Master.
In short, what is at stake here is the status of the Master.

What I wanted to convey in my introduction
was simply to tell you how profoundly this status concerns us,
and that it is worth holding off on its full articulation for a future step.
How much it concerns us when what becomes visible, what is unveiled,
what is at the same time reduced to a corner of the landscape,
is the function of philosophy.

That being said, given the space I have given myself this year,
which is shorter than in others,
I probably cannot develop this fully.
It does not matter— let someone else take up this theme and do with it as they wish.

Philosophy, in its historical function, is this extraction, this betrayal,
which presses knowledge out of the slave
in order to transmute it into the knowledge of the Master.

Does this mean that what we see emerging as science,
that which dominates us, is the result of this operation?
Again, far from rushing to conclusions,
we must observe instead that this is not the case at all.

It is a matter of understanding that all this wisdom,
this ἐπιστήμη [epistēmē],
built on all sorts of dichotomies,
has only led to a kind of knowledge
that can properly be called by the term
Aristotle himself used to characterize the Master’s knowledge:
a theoretical knowledge.

Not, of course, in the weak sense that we give to this word,
but in the emphasized sense that the word θεωρία [theôria] has in Aristotle,
and which— something quite peculiar—
it was only from the moment…
I return to this because it is the focal point of my discourse,
a pivot point, an essential point…
it was only from the moment
when, by an act of renunciation of this knowledge—
if I may say, ill-acquired—
someone, from the strict relation of S₁ to S₂,
extracted for the first time, as such, the function of the subject.

I have named Descartes,
as, of course, I believe I can articulate him—
not without agreement—
with at least a significant part of those who have studied him.

The distinction between the time when this attempt at a transfer of knowledge
from the slave to the Master emerged,
and the moment when it restarted,
motivated only by a certain way
of positioning within the structure any possible function of the enunciation,
insofar as only the articulation of the signifier sustains it—
this is but a small example of the insights,
the flashes, that the type of work
I propose to you this year may offer you.

Do not think that it stops there, of course.
For what I say, what I have put forward,
which, I believe, once it is demonstrated,
at least presents the character of an eye-opening realization:
who can deny that philosophy has never been anything
but a bewitching enterprise
for the benefit of the Master,
once it is stated?

We will return to this, of course.

At the other extreme, we have Hegel’s discourse
and its enormity, known as “absolute knowledge.”
What can absolute knowledge possibly mean
if we begin with the definition
that I have allowed myself to recall
as fundamental to our approach to knowledge?

Perhaps this is where we will begin next time—
it will at least be one of our starting points.
The other is this— and it is no less significant,
it is enormous, and particularly salutary
because of the enormous absurdities,
the truly overwhelming absurdities
one hears from psychoanalysts concerning what desire is.

If there is one thing that psychoanalysis
should compel us to hold onto with utmost rigor,
it is that the desire to know
has absolutely no relation to knowledge.

We indulge in the obscene word “transgression.”

The radical distinction—
which has the most far-reaching consequences
from the perspective of pedagogy—
that the desire to know
is not what leads to knowledge.
This is something that— finally, I think—
will allow the discourse itself
to gain motivation over time.

But in the end,
there is a question to be asked:
the Master…
the Master who performs this operation of displacement—
call it what you will,
the banking transaction of the slave’s knowledge—
does he even want to know?
Does he have the desire to know?

For we have generally seen,
up until relatively recently…
it is becoming less and less visible—
a true Master…
that he desires to know nothing at all,
he desires that it works.

And why would he want to know?

There are things far more amusing than that.

So the real question is how the philosopher
managed to inspire in him the desire to know.

This is what I leave you with.
It is a small provocation.
If any of you figure it out by next time,
you can tell me then.