12/5/2023 0 Comments A lovers discourse“My anxieties as to behavior are futile, ever more so, to infinity. In that moment when the other's image comes to ravish me for the first time, I am nothing more than the Jesuit Athanasius Kirchner's wonderful Hen: feet tied, the hen went to sleep with her eyes fixed on the chalk line, which was traced not far from her beak when she was untied, she remained motionless, fascinated, "submitting to her vanquisher," as the Jesuit says (1646) yet, to waken her from her enchantment, to break off the violence of her Image-repertoire (vehemens animalis imaginatio), it was enough to tap her on the wing she shook herself and began pecking in the dust again.” “Love at first sight is a hypnosis: I am fascinated by an image: at first shaken, electrified, stunned, "paralysed" as Menon was by Socrates, the model of loved objects, of captivating images, or again converted by an apparition, nothing distinguishing the path of enamoration from the Road to Damascus subsequently ensnared, held fast, immobilised, nose stuck to the image (the mirror). (The lover might be defined as a child getting an erection: such was the young Eros.)” I am then two subjects at once: I want maternity and genitality. Yet, within this infantile embrace, the genital unfailingly appears it cuts off the diffuse sensuality of the incestuous embrace the logic of desire begins to function, the will-to-possess returns, the adult is superimposed upon the child. In this companionable incest, everything is suspended: time, law, prohibition: nothing is exhausted, nothing is wanted: all desires are abolished, for they seem definitively fulfilled. “Besides intercourse (when the Image-repertoire goes to the devil), there is that other embrace, which is a motionless cradling: we are enchanted, bewitched: we are in the realm of sleep, without sleeping we are within the voluptous infantilism of sleepiness: this is the moment for telling stories, the moment of the voice which takes me, siderates me, this is the return to the mother ("in the loving calm of your arms," says a poem set to music by Duparc). ― Roland Barthes, quote from A Lover's Discourse: Fragments A moment of affirmation for a certain time, though a finite one, a deranged interval, something has been successful: I have been fulfilled (all my desires abolished by the plenitude of their satisfaction).” In this moment, everything is suspended: time, law, prohibition: nothing is exhausted, nothing is wanted: all desires are abolished, for they seem definitively fulfilled. The gesture of the amorous embrace seems to fulfill, for a time, the subject's dream of total union with the loved being: The longing for consummation with the other. this scene has all the magnificence of an accident: I cannot get over having had this good fortune: to meet what matches my desire. The scene is perfectly adapted to this temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, it is already a memory (the nature of a photograph is not to represent but to memorialize). Love at first sight is always spoken in the past tense. The context is the constellation of elements, harmoniously arranged that encompass the experience of the amorous subject. For love at first sight requires the very sign of its suddenness and of all things, it is the scene which seems to be seen best for the first time: a curtain parts and what had not yet ever been seen is devoured by the eyes: the scene consecrates the object I am going to love. “You see the first thing we love is a scene.
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