Fido the Yak

I want to be able to practice a free reading of Nancy's Experience of Freedom, a free reading that will depart from my habit of close misreading. The factuality of existence finds its opposite not in fiction but in the undone. The undone is neither possibility nor impossibility, though it may be implied in a chiasmus of actual possibility and impossible dynamism. Nancy equates the fact of existence with freedom. Does existence undo itself in the renunciation of its freedom, a possibility that freedom must give if it is to be free? Perhaps it outdoes itself–is that outdoing then a path to the undone? The undone, if it is anything, is the very thing that prevents itself from being found. In the huddled blackness of the undone all yaks are black, their ruminations vanished in an unthinkable foldless immanence–not a sound is heard from the fold of the black yaks, the kind of undun. We'd rather our ruminations be abandoned.

Only a finite reading can be free, for the undone reading encloses the necessity of its freedom, yokes it to its reading. Reading is perhaps not so much that which unfolds and yokes, in the period of a hermeneutics, as that which surprises itself. The world of yaks attests to the free and resolute renunciation of free reading–wicked yaks. I freely and resolutely renounce my freedom to "the opening of existence to its own essentiality as well as to this scansion, or singular rhythm, according to which the existent precedes and succeeds itself in a time to which it is not 'present,' but in which its freedom surprises it–like the spacing (which is also a rhythm, perhaps at the heart of the former rhythm) in which the existent is singularized, that is to say, exists, according to the free and common space of its inessentiality" (p. 16). I struggle to find the singularity in the rhythm of peregrinations. Perhaps it was always already unfound.

Free reading must know itself to be astray, cut itself loose from all discourse to expose itself as passion, a passion that implies a life of freedom without being such a life. A dilemma of passionate reading, to be cut loose from discourse and yet to read.

Labels: freedom, incredibly silly, Nancy

posted by Fido the Yak at 1:07 PM.