Decia Rimbaud «Tenir
le pas gagné; Il faut être absolument moderne».
«Mantener
el paso ganado. Hay que ser absolutamente moderno», en una Temporada
en el Infierno.
Os dejo una reflexión que me ha parecido interesante de: LEONHARD HERRMANN on Feb 1, 2011
http://www.metamodernism.com/2011/02/01/il-faut-etre-absolument-metamoderne/
At
the end of the nineteenth century, the French writer Arthur Rimbaud
urged us to be modern, nothing but modern, with a phrase that was as
idiomatic as it was programmatic: “Il faut être absolument
moderne” (1873). Recently, the French philosopher Alain
Finkielkraut, known for his non-conformist critique of postmodern
relativism, took up the challenge to critically rethink Rimbaud’s
postulate in the light of twenty-first century developments. In Muß
man modern sein?
(2010) he argues that being “absolutely modern” is no longer an
appropriate attitude for our day and age. Instead, he pleads for a
self-reflexive level of modernism. Some remarks from a metamodern
point of view…
For
Finkielkraut, modernist movements can be defined by the attempt to
liberate the individual from the stasis of the medieval worldview
and, increasingly, to emancipate the individual from transcendental
signifiers. Consider, for example, such movements as diverse as the
reformation, the enlightenment, various twentieth century
totalitarian ideologies and poststructuralist discourses. Since the
beginning of modernity – say, the humanism of Italian renaissance –
being modern has been not so much a well-defined collection of
statements but a wide-ranging series of fights. Modernism, says
Finkielkraut, has thus always been related to the rhetoric of war.
But why still being modern when there is nothing left to fight for?
Or, rather,when the fight is in lack of an opponent?
According
to Finkielkraut, it is Jean Paul Sartre who is the most
representative advocate of such a warlike but groundless modernity in
the second half of the twentieth century. By criticizing
Sartre’s notion of engaged literature, Finkielkraut shows that
hypermodernisation leads to the dangerous reduction of art to a
political statement and, thus, levels the differences between poetic
and non-poetic writing. The result is an egalitarian, relativistic
concept of art. Literary modernism, here, neglects its own roots,
ignores what modernity once initiated: the liberty to create art for
art’s sake and freedom from utilitarian purposes.
The
same critique Finkielkraut turns against Barthes’ poststructuralist
notion of the death of the author and its free-roaming
intertextuality. According to Finkielkraut, Barthes’ attempt –
which must be seen as one of so many attempts of being “absolutely
modern” – to liberate the sign and emancipate the reader has
been, and still is, a risky experiment. For, ultimately, it leads to
the loss of both sign and meaning as heuristic concepts for the
understanding of art. For what is there left to say about a work of
art if the reader, any reader, becomes the author of a text in the
process of reading? And how can we still conceive of a text on the
basis of its poetic structure and its status of fiction?
To
reiterate, Finkielkraut criticizes both Sartre and Barthes for
violating modernist aesthetic principles by being modern, absolutely
modern, when no longer necessary. Art, he insists, must be separated
from its political, historical or social context; art is an
autopoietic system. According to Finkielkraut, art does not want, say
or promote anything out of its own range. But within this range, art
is independent and claims timeless validity, only limited by borders
raised up by art itself. Arguably, this concept of art has been, and
still is, one of the most powerful consequences of modernization.
Finkielkraut
finishes his essay by defining a new opposition (and relation)
between the modern and the non-modern. For him, the counterpart to
modernity is not the classical,
as is commonly supposed, but the tragic.
The tragic
is the attitude of somebody who used to be modern, after he
recognizes the loss his own modernity
caused. In a Nietzschean way, the absence of sense, difference and
order causes the feeling of loss, disorientation and isolation and
raises up the romantic question whether this loss can once be undone.
To put it into a chronological order: the modern struggle against
order, form and convention causes a postmodern trauma about the loss
of security and orientation.
According
to Finkielkraut, this is how Roland Barthes, in the last years of his
life, turned from being modern into being tragic. Finkielkraut starts
his essay by quoting an entry in Barthes, diary dating from 1978:
“Suddenly, it appeared indifferent to me, that I am no longer
modern.” Remarkably, Barthes, once the most influential decision
maker on all matters modernist, here suddenly refuses to be modern –
and without feeling any regrets.
It
is a daring thesis Finkielkraut offers – hard to prove, hard to
negate. But if we do follow Finkielkraut, and perceive Sartre and
Barthes, more or less, as examplary of the nature of modernism, his
argumentation might be helpful to understand what could be meant by
metamodernism. For Finkielkraut’s notion of modernism must be
simultaneously conceived of as an oscillation between a struggle
against order and a regret at its loss and
situated beyond both positions, where it aligns with the tragic.
My
suggestion is the following: Let us call Finkielkraut’s
self-reflective level of modernism a ‘metamodern’ perspective.
From this metamodernist point of view, modernism appears as an
enclosed entity which can be surveyed, described and understood as a
whole (in spite the fact that modernism and postmodernism always
denied the possibility of epistemological holism). Metamodernism,
then, does not outline the condition of what chronologically comes
“after” modernism or, even, “after” post-modernism.
Metamodernism then is, among others and in my
view, a form of participating observation, which shares, cannot but
share, the fundamental postulates of modernity, yet reconciles them
tragically.