ISSN: 1705-6411
Volume 2, Number 2
(July 2005)
Book Review: The Frosty Emptiness of A Cool Disappearance.
Jean Baudrillard. Cool Memories IV. London and New York:
Verso, 2003. Translated by Chris Turner.
Reviewed by William Pawlett
(Sociology and Cultural Studies, University of
Wolverhampton, UK).
I have always found Baudrillard’s Cool Memories
series difficult, elusive and, in general, far less rewarding than
his major theoretical works such as Symbolic Exchange and
Death and Simulacra and Simulations.1
Yet I am also aware that this is the position adopted by
Baudrillard’s major detractors, a banal position which entirely
misses the purpose of the Cool Memories series: to provoke,
engage and defy, not to take up clear and unambiguous positions in
systematic academic fashion. Moreover Baudrillard introduces the
series as taking place after his “best” theoretical work had been
produced, after the triumphs and conquests of youth, confronted by
advancing age. Cool Memories (1980-1985) begins:
“October 1980 – The first day of the rest of your life”.2
By his own admission this was the period when
Baudrillard “stopped living”,3
stopped writing as the knowing subject, as the leading sociologist
of simulation and adopted a new methodology. This involved assuming
the position of the object: seductive, elusive, indifferent, yet
part of the world rather than of the subject which claims to produce
knowledge through clarity, order and commitment, while remaining
separated from the world. However, even as symbolic challenge, as
object of diversion and seduction, that is even in its own terms, I
find this series less than wholly convincing.
Why then “Cool Memories”? Clearly a reference to
McLuhan’s well-known distinction between hot and cold media; cold
media (poetry, television) offer little information but, in so
doing, extend or engage the senses more fully. Interpretative work
is required. What McLuhan termed hot media (photography, cinema)
offering more data, for Baudrillard create an excess of
information. Rather than acting as “extensions” they are actually
restrictive, engaging less of the human sensorium, “screening out”
meaningful engagement, communication or sociality.
With the Cool Memories series Baudrillard himself
cools down, he plays cool with theory showing coolness towards its
claims, while playing with its forms and stakes. But this game is
not inconsequential – it is not an abandonment of intellectual
engagement as has been charged. It is quite clear that Baudrillard
remains deeply opposed to the system (capitalism, liberal humanism,
pseudo-democracy, critical reason). In a recent reflection on the
Cool Memories series he writes, “Form alone attacks the
system in its very logic…the fragmentary is the product of a resolve
to destroy a totality and the will to confront emptiness and
disappearance”.4
Memories
too consist of fragments and are cool. After the “heat” of
experience only memories remain; even the fondest memories wear thin
in time and require increased imaginative work if they are to remain
meaningful. Baudrillard’s writing strategies are never cooler than
in Cool Memories. Indeed volume four seems even cooler than
earlier works in this series. Volume one was divided into five
sections of more or less equal length, each clearly dated and
covering the five years of the study. No dates appeared in volume
two, one date pops up oddly in volume three and there are none in
volume four. No notes, references or bibliography are provided by
the author while the generous margins surrounding the text seem to
invite the reader to add their own thoughts as they read,
functioning as symbolic spaces of communication. Less and less
clear information or context is given to the fragments assembled on
the page and the reader is left to make of them what they will.
Volume four then makes great demands on the reader by confronting
them with fragments, and with fragments of fragments, with fragments
of theory and theory as fragment.
This of
course makes the text very difficult to summarise. Generally it is
not clear to what extent the events described are fictional or
imaginary, or when they occurred, if they occurred at all. But of
course this opposition is deliberately broken down as writing as
form, as chosen mode of representation, creates its own world
through the unpredictable (symbolic) exchange between words and
readers. The text seems to include autobiographical reflections on
intensely personal issues such as bereavement and romantic liaisons
but even here the tone is cool, detached, even frosty.
Baudrillard immerses himself in a world where, he believes, art,
politics and history have disappeared as convincing realities, and
the disappearance motif remains strong throughout this volume.
Clearly one of the main themes of the series is travel, and this too
remains the case with volume four. As one begins reading there is
an almost immediate sense of being lost, of wandering or drifting
but there is just enough information to sustain and intrigue the
traveller. Baudrillard himself however refuses to act as travel
companion, remaining distant and elusive. Just as experience is
never quite what we expect, Baudrillard’s writing is never quite
what we expect it to be; there is enchantment as well as cynicism,
beauty as well as indifference, even hope:
Unlike the theoretical
and mental landscape, which is continually shrinking, the landscape
of the world and appearances is constantly becoming more diverse.
It is difficult to be surprised in the world of ideas, difficult not
to be by the perpetual play of forms.5
Baudrillard’s travels in volume four return the reader to many
favoured destinations: the USA, Italy and Portugal as well as many
less touristic “third world” countries with Brazil, Argentina, Chile
and Tierra Del Fuego (or “the end of the earth” and formerly home of
the Alakaluf people) who receive particular attention. But
Baudrillard is not interested in simple contrasts between the
“over-developed” and “under-developed” parts of the world. He
emphasises the uncanny, paradoxical, “inhuman” and beautiful in each
of the chosen destinations. There is compassion in these
reflections on the destruction of “other” peoples and cultures by
the West, but not of the gushing liberal variety, and Baudrillard
seems to regret that he has “no deep sense” of the “world of
misfortune”.6
It is often claimed that Baudrillard’s work generally
has little to say about subjectivity, identity or human relations,
instead dwelling on structures and forms resulting in a reductive
approach, figuring human beings as mere “terminals on networks”.
Yet, in fact Baudrillard offers a number of rich and vivid
speculations on the nature of identity and social interaction:
[C]haracter depends on
this basic contrariness – the indecipherable constellation of two
contradictory qualities forming a single characteristic, in the same
way as two contradictory meanings are merged in a single
witticism…character is destiny…the ideal relationship is one in
which both parties collude in the internally contradictory play of
their natural characters.7
There are also familiar, even well worn themes.
Disneyworld is mentioned several times as a prime example of
hyperreality, but these comments do nothing to advance the
theoretical position spelt out in Simulacra and Simulation
over twenty years ago. Scattered references to Alfred Jarry and
Georges Bataille now seem over-familiar and even repetitive. On the
other hand newer ideas, such as the principle of evil, are developed
and linked in new ways to the concepts of intelligence and
stupidity, with parallels to the latest theoretical work The
Intelligence of Evil or The Lucidity Pact. In the
latter case then Cool Memories IV may be seen to function as
supplement and companion to major theoretical works but in stripped
down form, with the “fat” removed in Baudrillard’s own terminology.8
However given that Baudrillard’s theoretical works of the last
twenty-five years are already very lean, this supposed supplementary
function, if it was ever intended, no longer provides a rationale
for the Cool Memories series.
This makes me wonder where a readership for this work
can be found. Neither this text nor any of the Cool Memories series
offers an accessible entry-point into Baudrillard’s thought. The
cost of a complete set of “Cool Memories”, with a fifth volume now
in preparation for translation into English, may well deter many,
particularly among Baudrillard’s main body of supporters in the
English-speaking world.
As experiments in form or medium, rather than merely
content or message, the Cool Memories series also seems
unsatisfying. The Verso editions are attractive but lack the visual
opulence of McLuhan’s Book of Probes or Klossowski’s works on
the simulacrum, to give two examples that are clearly relevant to
Baudrillard’s own approach. The photographs by Richard Misrach and
artwork by David Hockney, used as cover images on the Verso
translations, seem similar to Baudrillard’s own in respect of their
sense of emptiness and disappearance. Why not illustrate the texts,
or at least the covers, with Baudrillard’s own photography? This
would enable greater emphasis and experimentation with forms and
appearances. The English translation of Amerique benefited
from illustrations and also made the Please Follow Me
collaboration with Sophie Calle so seductive. Perhaps this would
risk an increase in information and a thawing of these works. This
would be welcome, as then the texts would warm slightly, becoming
cool rather than frosty.
Endnotes
1
Jean Baudrillard. Symbolic Exchange and Death (c Paris:
Gallimard, 1976). London: SAGE, 1993; Jean Baudrillard.
Simulacra and Simulation (c Paris: Editions Galilee, 1981).
Ann Arbour: University of Michigan Press, 1994.
2
Jean Baudrillard. Cool Memories (c Paris: Editions
Galilee, 1987). London and New York: Verso, 1990:1.
3
Jean Baudrillard. Forget Foucault/Forget Baudrillard. (c
1977) New York: Semiotexte, 1987:81.
4
Jean Baudrillard. Fragments: Conversations with Francois L’Yvonnet
(c 2001).
Routledge: London,
2004:26, 28.
5
Jean Baudrillard. Cool Memories IV: 1995-2000 (c 2000).
London: Verso, 2003:75.
8
Jean Baudrillard. Fragments: Conversations with Francois
L’Yvonnet (c 2001). Routledge: London,
2004:22.
|