Escolar Documentos
Profissional Documentos
Cultura Documentos
Community
The Ethics of
Community
Nancy, Derrida, Morrison, and
Menendez
Ana M. Luszczynska
Continuum International Publishing Group
80 Maiden Lane, New York, NY 10038
The Tower Building, 11 York Road, London SE1 7NX
www.continuumbooks.com
EISBN: 978-1-441145666
Acknowledgements vi
Introduction 1
1 Nancy and Derrida: On Ethics and the Same
(Infinitely Different) Constitutive Events of Being 26
2 Nancys Community 43
3 Morrisons Beloved, Nancian Community,
and Derridean Witnessing 69
4 Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 93
Conclusion 142
Notes 145
References 159
Index 163
Acknowledgements
respect through the many stages of the publication process never failed
to lift my spirits.
I cannot adequately convey my gratitude to the indomitable and
spirited Heather Russell, friend, comrade, colleague, and partner in
crime. Your rare combination of irreverence and grace, power and
poise, and infinitely generous spirit has been both inspiration and sus-
tenance through these tumultuous years. I will never forget the many
times that you said to me Of course you can! with a wonderful wave
of the hand!
Ellen Thompson, colleague, friend, sister New-England transplant,
confidante, and endless source of support and friendship. Your words
of encouragement and care during the mutually trying years of tenure,
divorce, death, and kid stress border on the epic. I will never be able to
thank you enough for all the love that you have given me.
I have been deeply moved and energized by a magical friendship
with Danny Luis whose intensity and integrity have often held me
up throughout this process. I thank you for exposing me to faith in
lifelong friendship and all that it entails. I will never forget your total
openness to me.
To fellow self-deprecator Sylvan Lee whose ability to make me laugh
until I cry is unparalleled, thank you. The countless meals and child-
care you so generously provided largely contributed to the completion
of this project. Your friendship has meant the world to me and I simply
cannot imagine life without you.
I thank Tom Phillips for sharing a world with me for nearly thirty
years. The love and acceptance that you have extended to me has made
me a stronger and happier person. I feel truly lucky to have you in my
life again. Who else would send me the wise words If you dont sin
Jesus died for nothing?
I am immensely grateful to Berthold Schoene for first legitimizing
this project and giving me a much needed confidence boost. The sense
of intellectual kinship that I have felt with you has been pivotal to the
completion of The Ethics of Community.
I feel especially grateful for the friendship, guidance, and support
of Gustavo Perez Firmat. Your intellectual acuity, sensitivity, and ir-
reverence have touched me more than you know. You are indeed
unforgettable.
I am forever indebted to the undergraduate and graduate students in
English and Philosophy at Florida International University whose in-
tellectual spirit and energy have kept me motivated and fresh through
these many semesters. Matt Bucemi, Sarah Rodriguez. Soraya Bascoy,
Rodrigo Torres, Claudia Carcach, Michael Martin, Nicole Billitz,
Mariane Stanev, Diamys Garcia, Chris Miranda, and Walter Jouvin are
viii Acknowledgements
the issues of community and culture are engaged but are traced from the
Greeks, to Spinoza, Nietzsche, Bataille, Blanchot, Nancy, and Agamben
(to name only a few) in all of their most minute intricacy, and not con-
sidered in relation to, for example, gang communities of East L.A. as a
cultural studies project might do. Concrete cultural phenomenon (dis-
cursively constituted or otherwise) are generally outside of philosophys
central project. Further, although philosophy has had its interest in liter-
ature (and certainly Heidegger took great strides in problematizing the
boundary between these areas) such convergences do not have a history
of looking significantly at US American literature and most particularly
at African American or US Latino Literature.
Examining cultural issues (exile, bilingualism, linguistic specific-
ity, etc) from a deconstructive lens (and its attendant ethical compo-
nents) within a general horizon of what is disciplinarily understood
as philosophy and literature, The Ethics of Community blurs the
boundaries between cultural studies, literary criticism, philosophy,
and African American and US Latino Literature. Given its juxtaposi-
tion of philosophical explications and explorations alongside literary
engagements on culture, all concerned with deconstruction and eth-
ics, this project amalgamates all of the above areas as a thorough-
going activation of interdisciplinarity.7 The analysis that follows
illustrates that in- depth and nuanced appreciations of Nancy and
Derrida regarding deconstruction and ethics can and indeed per-
haps even ought to be considered alongside African American and
US Latino Literature and the approaches to cultural and linguistic
specificity to be found therein. Part cultural studies (in its focus
on deconstruction as ethics and its very interest in a discourse on
culture), part theory (in its untangling of the intricacies of philo-
sophical explorations), and part literary criticism (in its belief that
literature has significant offerings parallel to those of deconstruction
as ethics), this project is an attempt to transgress boundaries, itself
almost a battle cry of cultural studies discourse. Indeed blurring the
lines between discourses is an integral part of not only cultural stud-
ies but a certain strain locatable within continental philosophy at
least since Heidegger. The Ethics of Community is an attempt to acti-
vate the transgression.
On Intervention
Literary criticism has a long tradition of considering the interventionist
possibilities of literature. From Leaviss claim that literarature facilitates
a withstanding of industrial capitalisms alienating effects, to the formal-
ists notion that it defamiliarizes or estranges the world, to Gadamers
understanding achieved through literary engagement, literature has
long been conceived in terms of its potential to transform and intervene
Introduction 5
Interruptive Intervention
Alongside Bowman and Herbrechter I reject both a facile notion of clear
and plain articulation and presentation as well as a solely analytic or
playful performance of the deconstruction of culture, and propose a
foregrounding of interruption as a vehicle to potentially altered engage-
ments with the material world. However, unlike Bowman, the location
for the interruption that I propose is within the philosophical and lit-
erary realms. The Ethics of Community contributes to an interventionist
discourse in foregrounding an ethical event of being that can potentially
lead to liberatory experiences, approaches, and understandings. One
could certainly interject that an intricate engagement with Nancian or
Derridean philosophemes is not useful as an interventionist tool, and
if intervention is conceived as directly programmatic or instructive
then such a claim is plainly justified. However, The Ethics of Community
proposes an understanding of intervention as a transformative expe-
rience of interruptive ethics that can itself illicit distinct and arguably
liberatory or democratizing approaches to be activated.19 While such an
intervention in the world cannot be directly instructive, it nonetheless
has the potential to be deeply active. For example, in Morrisons Beloved,
nonrepresentational linguistic events disrupt and alter several charac-
ters totalizing perceptions of themselves and their world leading to new
possibilities of community or being-with others. Similarly, in Menendez
In Cuba I Was a German Shepherd, a recognition of the impossibility of
locatable origin or home prompts an ontological disruption that itself
reveals a non-recuperable world for a protagonist and her engagements
with it are correspondingly altered. A reader who follows or traces such
an encounter with the nonbeing of being can be confronted with (and
interrupted by) the unraveling of borders between character, reader, and
text leaving a space or gap where essential being was thought to exist.
The result can be a profound experience of groundlessness and ontologi-
cal noncoincidence that shakes us to the core.
Introduction 9
Ugarte intimates that the trace-like existence of the exile (living within
a world of constantly sliding significations) overlaps with that of lan-
guage (here we can add that if being is necessarily in language then
being too is necessarily of the trace, writing, and ultimately, exile). The
trajectory of Ugartes analysis moves from literal exile to absence to
desire to language. He repeatedly asserts that the exilic voice is one
which works very much like language and literature at their most
elemental. In other words, what constitutes language and literature is
what constitutes exile: the ongoing interplay and eruption of absence,
desire, and language.
The following chapters illustrate that being and community, writ-
ing, imperative ethicity, and bearing witness refuse our attempts to
separate them. When trying to get a handle on the precise mechanisms
involved in imperative ethicity and the manner in which being is writ-
ing, why not look to situations that bear out the logic of the trace, so to
speak? What better way to probe the intricacies of being in and as writ-
ing than to consider a situation that accentuates the tenuousness of
the relationship between language and reality? Ugarte notes Derridas
assertion that to write is to be an exile. In other words, writing (as sig-
nification) and exile are saturated by the absence and desire that both
constitute and propel them. Given the manner in which being is itself
constituted by language and writing (and we discuss this dynamic in
detail in Chapters 1 and 2), we might just as well proclaim that to be is
to be an exile.
Indeed Ugartes reading of Cernudas Como el Viento from Un
rio, un amor stresses the parallels between the structure and language
of the poem and the defining factors of exile. Not only are both built
upon an absence (significance achieved via figuration as well as a sug-
gested yet unnamed thematic in the poem, and the absence of home
in exile) but both are characterized by restlessness and movement indi-
cated by the centrality of wind in the poem and the obvious displace-
ment that is exile. Ugarte suggests that there is an illusory unity to
Cernudas poetry that is a linguistic marker of exilic desire (332).
Ugarte is plainly interested in an aspect of exilic desire that is distinct
from desire proper. In other words, there is something unique to the
exilic voice that speaks in Cernudas poetry and that can then be linked
Introduction 21
to the nature of language itself. Literal exile speaks like language at its
most basic (the sliding signification already referenced). In contrast,
our project pursues a thinking of literal exile as a point of entry into the
workings of the metaphorical exile that constitutes being and language
(and all of the intricacies therein). Arguably, exile literature can help
us in our attempt to hold onto and grapple with these fundamental
ontological issues that escape our grasp. Through the figure of exile we
are poised to more closely examine being itself and gain insights that
would otherwise be inaccessible. So while Ugarte treats literal exile
and its fundamental relationship to the workings of literature and lan-
guage, we pursue a thinking about exile as being and the relationship
to language. We try to think how in exile, being, and language it is the
imperative of finitude that creates the spacing that makes desire and
writing, and forbids identity, their opposite.
Lene Johannessens The Lonely Figure: Memory of Exile in Ana
Menendezs In Cuba I Was a German Shepherd does a fine job of
extending a conversation concerning exile into considerations of figu-
ration. Johannessen rightly stresses the significance of re-mapping in
exilic efforts at orientation. Inevitably, she argues, the displaced will
call upon figuring processes in order to comprehend their new world
in a meaningful manner. However, the degree to which all being relies
upon a signifying process is not lost on Johannessen:
What we are calling here the force, the energy, the virtue, and
above all in its language, is what makes us have to cite it, again
and again with an irresistible compulsion . . . What we have
here is a compulsion to cite and recite, to repeat what we under-
stand without completely understanding it, feeling at work in
On Ethics and the Same Constitutive Events of Being 31
Indeed the truth of the secret, the singular experience of the being
who bears witness, cannot be fully appropriated even by the wit-
ness and thus can surely not be re-presented as a provable truth
in testimony. And it is precisely the imperative that spaces in and
as writing and that manifests as fi nitude that radically denies the
possibility of complete appropriation and transmittal. As such, we
are left with a bearing witness and a testimony that is invariably
38 The Ethics of Community
The poem bears witness. We dont know about what and for
what, about whom and for whom, in bearing witness for bearing
witness, it bears witness. But it bears witness. As a result, what
it says of the witness it also says of itself as witness or as bear-
ing witness. As poetic bearing witness. Can we not, then, here
transfer to bearing witness, to this poetic bearing witness, as to
that which in all bearing witness must always appear as poetic?
(Derrida 2005, 87)
In other words, when one bears witness (and in some sense one is
always bearing witness to or before the other), one is inevitably engaged
in a constant signing and de-signing of meaning (or implicated in the
logic of the trace), which is to say, within writing, and when responsi-
bly enacted, poetic language.
The next conceptual juxtaposition we engage involves a Nancian
notion of finitude and sharing and a Derridean conception of carry-
ing as it is outlined in Rams from Sovereignties in Question. Nancy
posits sharing in The Inoperative Community as being as spaced by
being via its encounter with the other of an other being. Here, my other
On Ethics and the Same Constitutive Events of Being 39
sharing. And I only am, I can only be, I must only be starting from this
strange, dislocated bearing of the infinitely other in me (Derrida 2005,
162). In other words, being only is insofar as it begins from an origin-
less place of dis-location that radically denies any and all senses of
foundation or ground. Further, this constitutive movement of my other
of being bearing toward your other of being always-already implicates
the other in my being at its most fundamental. As such, before I am
I carry the other. In some sense, literally, I cannot be without you.
Before I can have a being or be as a being, I am already bound up with
or more precisely toward you. Thus it is evident that in order to be
at all, I must be as accessible to you or as Derrida frames it, I must
keep myself within your reach; we must, in some way, be together.
Moreover, I am and must be your grasp or that reach without arrival
of being toward being. The imperative of finitude that spaces could not
be more evident here. Derridas repetition of the must indicates the
obligation or duty that is inextricable from finitude, which according to
Nancy itself spaces. The being-toward of the above passage involves an
imperative (I must) that prohibits being as an identity and further des-
ignates beings fundamental spacing that involves a movement toward
without arrival.
Now What?
Conceptualizing Nancy and Derridas philosophical discourses on
the constitutive events of being and their relevance for thoughts on
ethics or relations to an other might leave us with some sense that
there is something yet to be done. Such abstract and difficult (and at
times poetic) theoretical elaborations upon being and responsibility
no doubt further our understanding of meanings of being. But how
do these discourses affect our actual lives in the world of concrete
existence? Nancy himself poses this question directly at the close of
Retreating the Political (Lacoue-Labarthe and Nancy 1997). In the final
chapter of the text, aptly entitled What Is to Be Done? Nancy seeks
in some way to address the issues of agency, action, and concrete exis-
tence. After Nancy and Derridas intricate and rigorous insights on the
nature of the ethical, how are we to act? It is extremely clear that the
understandings of ethics with which Nancy and Derrida provide us,
radically deny any kind of simplistic application. As Nancy repeatedly
warns in The Inoperative Community, to make a work or project of
this thought is tantamount to a totalizing gesture that reduces it to that
which is precisely nonethical. So, what are we to do? How and where
might we locate agency and action within this thought?12
Not surprisingly, upon closer interrogation we find that these
particular questions concerning agency, action, and the phenom-
enal world presuppose the existence of certain approaches that are
On Ethics and the Same Constitutive Events of Being 41
being. Nonetheless, the general context of our time, the context of the
individual, places us within this contradiction of understanding being
as both individual and connected. Even the most traditional, human-
istic sense of community no doubt intends to convey a more profound
connection than that which we have seen is possible for the individual.
The community of humanism has as its condition of possibility (the
individual) that which makes all connections or relations impossible.
The question of being as it relates to the question of being-with must be
engaged indicating that we must move beyond the individual as our
point of departure.
Nancy continues his critique of the concept of the individual by
discussing how an essence or immanence is imagined to be achieved
(from where does the essence emerge?). As with the essay as a whole,
this issue is generally contextualized by a meditation on the betrayal
of communism. In communism, the essence or immanence of the indi-
vidual allegedly completes itself in and as community through ones
labor. In other words, the labor performed is itself conceived as the
production of both the essence of the individual and the essence of
community. Through his labor man produces his own essence
as the production of the essence of the community. Accordingly, one
would here achieve, fulfill, and most precisely produce ones essence
in the form of ones labor.
Similarly, humanism is the understanding of the individual as con-
taining the essence of humanness. The individual is not integrally
connected to the community as it is with communism; however, the
conceptualization of the individual as essential functions the same way
in both modes of thought. Humanism simply envisions the human as
the primary immanence and does not extrapolate this notion onto a
community.
Being conceived as an individual or subject, as it is in both com-
munism and humanism, has very specific ramifications for a concep-
tion of community. If the individual is perceived as the achievement of
immanence, then the community of individuals is, without question,
the community of immanence, characterized by a lack of a leaning-
toward the other. Furthermore, if community is formulated as the pro-
duction of human essence, then the will to essence necessarily informs
all ties of the individual. Essence is set to work in and through all
manner of relations (3). Accordingly, we must understand and remem-
ber that the ties or relations between individuals within this context
are characterized by a lack of being-with and rather institute and
expose the will to essence. Everything is understood in terms of the
accomplishment of this essence, which becomes the work of all rela-
tions. Nancy indicates that we have called this totalitarianism but we
might call it immanentism, which is the impoverished perspective
46 The Ethics of Community
that is the general horizon of our time (3). The individual is thus the
point of departure for our world, dooming us to think only within the
terms of immanentism.
What specifically is lost in a thinking of being as a will to essence,
that is, a thinking of being in which being is individual? Throughout
the preface and the body of the essay Nancy stresses the imperative of
thinking community in its true sense. However, we must first inquire
into the nature of being and death for a being characterized by imma-
nence or essence. How can an essence or immanence, an absolute for-
itself, be, or be-with, or die? The individual is incapable of being-with,
given that an essence cannot lean outside of itself to be with an other.
This is so by definition, as the immanence is and can only be an abso-
lute for-itself. The individual cannot die insofar as it is characterized
by an immanence that necessarily implies the infinite. Death is impos-
sible for an immanence or individual and, accordingly, ceases to have
meaning. Last, one could argue that an immanence is not capable of
being in the first place. As that which cannot move or act, the being
of an individual is contrary to being (or at the very least, called into
question). We might propose that the individual is both already dead
(incapable of being) and infinite (incapable of dying as it is imma-
nent). As such, both being and death become radically problematic.
Consequently, there is no meaning of being for the individual, which
again is characterized by a lack of movement, action, and connection.6
All of the characteristics that constitute being are impossibilities for
the individual.
We cannot properly close a discussion on the conceptualization of
being as individual without at least addressing the question of the ori-
gin of such thought. Nancy engages this issue briefly in observing that
some have seen in the concept of the individual Europes triumphant
dominance insofar as the European idea of the individual illustrated
to the world the way to emancipation from tyranny, as well as the
standard against which all communal endeavors or projects should be
gauged (3). Given Nancys painstaking and thorough critique of the
individual, this text reflects his vehement disagreement with such an
understanding. However, the allusion to the thinking of the individual
as a European concept brings us to question the status of the world
(the other world, the non-European world) to which such an idea
was illustrated. Is the entire world subject to such thinking? Nancy
proposes that the individual is the ontological ground upon which we
walk and we are accordingly lost (1112). To what we does he
refer? It does seem that Nancy is implying that the we for whom this
thinking is a point of departure is the we of the world.7 However, he
indicates clearly that this manner of thought is specifically European
in origin and was then shown to the rest of the world (3). We are
Nancys Community 47
It becomes clear in the next section that the tearing open enacted
by relation is a description of community. In other words, commu-
nity is the tearing and the forcing open of the absolute of metaphys-
ics. Excluded by the logic of the absolute-subject of metaphysics (Self,
Will, Life, Spirit, and so on), community comes perforce to cut into this
subject by virtue of this same logic (4). Thus community cuts into the
metaphysical subject, again, by virtue of the very logic of the absolute.
There is a sense in which community itself brings out of the absolute
that part of the absolute that causes it to contradict itself (like a light
that shines on the logical flaw of any metaphysics of the absolute). It is
not simply that community sets the absolute in relation but rather that
it undoes that which is supposed to be absolute: The logic of the abso-
lute sets it in relation: but this, obviously, cannot make for a relation
between two or several absolutes, no more that it can make an abso-
lute of the relation. The logic of the absolute undoes the absoluteness
of the absolute (4). The relation, or community, is the undoing of the
absolute, if it is at all. As an undoing, a taking apart, a cutting into, an
opening up, an action rather than a thing, community is not exactly an
is. By definition, community undoes immanence as it is that within
the very logic of immanence that cuts into and undoes its logic. Since
community is within immanence, there can be no immanence.
As that which explodes the myth of the absolute, community has not
yet been considered. The questions and concerns that have guided our
thinking on community have assumed the individual as the frame of
reference. Only now, says Nancy, do we find ourselves asking the ques-
tions of community for the first time.
Nancy first indicates the real ramifications of these issues in this con-
text of a will to immanence and its relation to death. While in other essays
he will cite other examples, the primary example used in this essay is
that of Nazi Germany.8 Any political, economic or social program that
assumes as its goal the will to a community of essence or immanence has
as its work the work of death. Thus in Nazi Germany the desire for a pure
Aryan being was nothing other than a desire for death. What this meant
for the victims, or those who were deemed neither Aryan nor pure, is
obvious. However, Nancy proposes that the work of death extended to
the victimizer, those for whom the community was to be achieved as
this immanence. That is why political or collective enterprises domi-
nated by a will to absolute immanence have as their truth the truth of
death. Immanence, communal fusion, contains no other logic than that
of the suicide of the community that is governed by it (12). Thus, we find
that it was not only the other who was exterminated but additionally
those within the Aryan community who were not deemed sufficiently
pure. Furthermore, Nancy asserts that on a certain metaphorical level,
Germany as a whole was self-exterminated. Interestingly, he maintains
that it would be reasonable to make such an assessment given certain
aspects of the spiritual reality of this nation (12). Here we find the death
of both victim and the community that intends or wills immanence.
Any institution or regime like Nazism, governed by a desire to
achieve purity and banish the impure other, is working according to a
desire for immanence that is primarily ruled by a logic of death. In the
end, despite the fact that death must be conceived in both literal and
metaphorical terms, this empirical example powerfully demonstrates
that a work toward immanence is the same as a work of death.9
Literal death conceived as immanence carries with it a poverty of
understanding insofar as death loses its senseless meaning. Further-
more, immanence itself seems to be of the nature of death and thus
calls to mind that which is more of death than of being. Logically, any
political enterprise desiring or working toward or for immanence itself
reflects the work of death. A desire for immanence is equivalent to a
desire for death.
However, the example of Nazism brings to light another level upon
which the will to death is occurring, and this is the actual world of
concrete beings. Literal death can be the result of a will to essence as
witnessed in the death of the other deemed insufficiently pure. Thus
on both abstract and empirical levels the will to immanence is equal to
a will to death. A large part of the imperative or driving force within
this Nancian project is to illustrate the connection between that which
is abstract, or philosophical, and that which is empirical, or real. An
unexamined will to immanence has led to disastrous and horrific con-
sequences within the real or actual world.
52 The Ethics of Community
Nancy has already illustrated that one of the primary factors of com-
munity in a non-immanent sense is that there is no common, essential
substance in which beings would partake or share and which would
exist in a totality superior to them. In other words, there must be no
communion of beings (there must be a substance or a definitive thing
for communion, and this is precisely what Nancy wants to deny). But
what is there in place of such a communion? What happens among
singularities? What are the interactions of the inoperative community?
Here Nancy proposes communication. Finitude, or that which appears
to the singular being, cannot commune for it is not a ground, thing, or
substance. But it can and does appear, present and expose itself, and
thus it exists as communication (28). Communication is an appear-
ing and exposition. Finitude exists in communication, that is, in expos-
ing and appearing (importantly, Nancy calls this phenomenon more
originary than any other. Here again these events are described as
constituting being rather than occurring after there is a being that is
already constituted). Such an exposition and appearance necessar-
ily occurs to a being. Finitude is not exposed unless there is another
being to whom the exposure can occur. There must be more than one
being; there must be an among beings in order for communication
(appearing and exposing) to take place. Nancy calls this co-appearing
or compearing and states that finitude can only compear. By definition,
finitude appears or communication occurs among singularities in the
form of a together (28).
This formulation has vast implications that Nancy draws out at the
end of the essay. The fundamental nature of being among is appar-
ent. Ultimately, this radical connection to or necessity of the other con-
stitutes being itself. For Nancy, singularity, by definition, cannot exist
alone as being is dependent for its being on other being(s), granting
a priority to being-with. Being-with almost seems to precede being.
Generally, this constitutive event does resist such chronological place-
ment; however, given that being-with is a kind of condition of possibility
for being, it is tempting to think of being-with as assuming some kind
of precedence. However, oddly, it would be more accurate to observe
that the two events (being and being-with) occur simultaneously.
a brief definition of the term in which it is evident, once again, that the
ideas he introduces are extremely tightly interwoven:
A Closer Look
Having acquired a sense of the different components that contribute
to the events of community, we can examine them in more depth. A
further look at communication, or the exposure of finitude with an
emphasis on the co-appearing of the exposure, leads us to a discussion
of the specifics of the spacing of the singular being. Nancy begins this
discussion by observing that communication exists fundamentally in
a certain dislocation:
Singular being emerges only through the outside of being that radi-
cally extroverts it and causes it to exist as an exposure to an outside. We
have repeatedly discussed the outside of being of being, but we have
not yet probed the outside of the outside of being itself in any kind of
depth.
This outside is revealed to be the exposition of another areality, of
another singularity the same other (29). Presently, it is evident that
62 The Ethics of Community
subject and then become exposed and thus shared.) I am only shared,
divided, or spaced when I come upon you. I am dependent on you for
my ecstasy, for my finitude, and my finitude is most properly my own,
so I therefore need you in order to have (although properly speak-
ing it is not a having) that which is most properly mine (my other of
being, my finitude, my death).
You as entirely other than I bring me to my entirely other than I.
Insofar as I have an entirely other than I, I myself am divided, spaced,
or shared, but I can only be as such given that my other of being is
exposed to your other of being. Compearance or co-appearing neces-
sarily indicates that there is not just one exposition occurring. Finitude
is exposed from me to you and from you to me, if you will. My other
of being as toward your other of being automatically implies that we
are co-exposed. You shares me or causes me to be outside of myself
in that the finitude that I am exposing necessarily occurs to you; I can-
not be exposed without you. The to you is as fundamental to this
equation as the exposure. I need you to expose my finitude and when
finitude is exposed, I have an other of being, or am exposed, divided,
or shared. In this sense, in the to you of the exposition, you shares
me. The simultaneity of the exposition of finitude (which immediately
implies a sharing or an ecstasy) and the to you of the exposition are
crucial. There is no temporal priority given either to one or the other;
they occur completely simultaneously. The moment in which my fini-
tude is exposed to you and the moment that I am ecstatic or shared is
the same.
The trail she [Denver] followed to get to that sweet, thorny, place
was made up of paper scraps containing the handwritten names
of others. Lady Jones gave her some rice, four eggs, and some tea.
Denver told her that she couldnt be away from home for long
because of her mothers condition. Could she do chores in the
morning? Lady Jones told her that no one, not herself, not anyone
she knew, could pay anybody anything for work they did them-
selves. But if you all need to eat until your mother is well, all
you have to do is say so. She mentioned her churchs committee
invented so nobody had to go hungry. That agitated her guest
who said, No, no, as though asking for help from strangers was
worse than hunger. Lady Jones said goodbye to her and asked
her to come back anytime.
Two days later Denver stood on the porch and noticed something
lying on the tree stump at the edge of the yard. She went to look
and found a sack of white beans. Another time a plate of cold
rabbit meat. One morning a basket of eggs sat there. As she lifted
it, a slip of paper fluttered down. She picked it up and looked at
it. M. Lucille Williams was written in big crooked letters. On
the back was a blob of flour-water paste. So Denver paid a second
visit to the world outside the porch, although all she said when
she returned the basket was Thank You.
Every now and then, all through the spring, names appeared
near or in gifts of food. Obviously for the return of the pan or
plate or basket; but also to let the girl know, if she cared to, who
the donor was, because some of the parcels were wrapped in
paper, and though there was nothing to return, the name was
nevertheless there . . . (2489)
Denvers agitation at the perceived charity that she and her mother
would receive confirms the values of self-reliance and pride that Sethe
has passed on to Denver. Sethe and Denvers lonely existence is predi-
cated upon a view of being as radically individual or unto itself. Here
it is clear that the conceptual understanding of being (radically self-
reliant) has grave and concrete ramifications in the material world.
The above passage contains numerous provocative pronouncements
concerning Denvers experience of community in both a traditional
and a Nancian sense. The implications of the trail that Denver fol-
lowed to reach that sweet and thorny place of adulthood are vast.
Containing within it the absent presence of an other, predicated upon
the notion that a body has traversed an area and left a path, a trail is a
80 The Ethics of Community
to-ness that has a profound impact. The first moment occurs with the
nonrepresentational utterance of Miss Lady Jones and the subsequent
events occur as the neighbors literally leave traces as they put bread in
the mouth of the other. This example illustrates that what is at stake in
this instance is all that the extra-discursive moment entails.
But is this necessarily an extra-discursive moment? We can certainly
affirm that it is transformative for Denver insofar as she experiences
an inauguration that leads to womanhood. We are prompted to
call it extra-discursive as the changes that occur do not emerge from
representation, meaning, or concept but rather from something other
that happens in the event of language. The significatory power of oh
baby is not found in the content but rather in the manner in which it
is extended (said softly and with such kindness). That the continua-
tion of this trace or trail is a result of a (continued) extension of others
is not insignificant (The trail she followed to get to that sweet, thorny,
place was made up of paper scraps containing the handwritten names
of others). Given that Denvers experience is contextualized by a mul-
tifaceted trace, denies conceptual access, and foregrounds Nancys
radical sociality, we can interpret it as an extra-discursive moment of
being-with or community.
Being is the trace and yet there are locatable contexts that encour-
age the speaking of the trace that lead to its flourishing. The rather
simple idea is that differance is always-already there as it is the way of
being, however, it can flourish or wither depending on material con-
text. In the case of Beloved, there are repeated situations in which this
component of being can be somehow tapped and then flourish (as well
as the opposite in both the white and black communities). The result is
repeatedly one of transformation.
Through the character of Stamp Paid this actual generosity is in
some way thematized as the following quote indicates:
Make sense; make none. Sleep, wake up; like somebody, dislike
others. It didnt seem much of a way to live and it brought him
no satisfaction. So he extended this debtlessness to other people
by helping them pay out and off whatever they owed in misery.
Beaten runaways? He ferried them and rendered them paid for;
gave them their own bill of sale, so to speak. You paid it now life
owes you. And the receipt, as it were, was a welcome door that
he never had to knock on, like John and Ellas in front of which he
stood and said, Who in there? only once and she was pulling
on the hinge. (1845)
(unlike the one we witness at the close of the text) is literally unsatis-
factory. Stamps response is to look elsewhere for a way to live and a
corresponding satisfaction.
The giving of his life and the subsequent perceived lack of obliga-
tion ultimately revealed to him another kind of obligation, which can
be read as a way to live that is ultimately satisfying (contrary to the
no way to live of rambunctiousness, renegade behavior, and alcohol).
Rather than living a life unto himself in which he could work, sleep,
and make sense according to only his own will or desire, he . . . extended
this debtlessness to other people by helping them pay out and off what-
ever they owed in misery. Beaten runaways? He ferried them and ren-
dered them paid for; gave them their own bill of sale so to speak. You
paid it now life owes you (185). Provocative in its implications, this
passage reveals that a response to debtlessness that does bring satis-
faction is an extension of debtlessness to other people by helping them
pay out and off whatever they owed in misery . . . (185). In a nearly
extra-discursive structure, a fulfilling response to the absence of obli-
gation is to extend this absence and help others. In effect, Stamp is
extending to others the sense of the absence of an obligation to extend to
others. Importantly, it is precisely when Stamp is devoid of an obliga-
tion to others that he perceives plainly an obligation to others and it is
this that he then extends. In other words, that which he is extending
and the extension itself are one and the same; further, extension and
helping others is revealed to be continuous with rather than contrary
to life insofar as it is the way to live. Stamp Paids subversive bill of
sale is the extension of the sentiment that they have paid off to life
what they owe in misery.
Oddly, the transaction of extension and satisfactory life has further
echoes of commodification insofar as it is framed by Stamps reception
of a receipt. However, consistent with his transgressive understanding,
the exchange relationship of commodification is entirely subverted by
that which he receives in return for his extension, which is hospitality
in a most elemental form: And the receipt, as it were, was a welcome
door that he never had to knock on . . . (185). The strict barrier of the
(metaphorical and literal) threshold of an other (the door of the home)
evaporates as Stamp assumes an always-already welcome relation with
the others to whom his life is extended. Literalizing a fundamental
ethical image yet again, Stamps manner of engagement with the black
community is marked by a deterioration of borders between inside
and outside such that in some way he is always-already with, extended
to and welcomed by, the other. (The degree to which this is the precise
opposite of Sethes formulations is not to be lost on the reader.)
Importantly, rather than a merely conceptual understanding,
Stamps realizations and their progression emerge directly from and
86 The Ethics of Community
within his experiences in the material world and his attendant theory
and practice cannot be disentangled. It is the situation with Vashti and
his concession of inaction that initiates his sense of debtlessness. He
gives to her the maintenance of his life, which ultimately leads to a
confirmation of an ethical imperative beyond imperative that he finds
satisfying and consistent with life itself. A way to live is simultane-
ously a conceptual and active formulation. Living for Stamp is itself
extending extension, a movement highly similar to Nancys exposing
exposure.
Stamp Paids name change further complicates his narrative.
Perhaps there he could find out if, after all these years of clarity, he
had misnamed himself and there was yet another debt he owed. Born
Joshua, he had renamed himself when he handed over his wife to his
masters son (185). This brief passage is replete with cultural intersec-
tions that trace a complex movement from a traditional Christian name
(originally, at some point, a name that emerges from the master) to a
culturally African American one, and can be interpreted as echoing
the biblical Joshuas name change from Hoshea to Joshua.8 Contrary
to a simplistic expectation of consistency between the signification of
each name and the sensibility and structure that informs them, the
names Joshua and Stamp Paid function precisely as interruptions to
their contextualizing structures.
Successor to Moses, spy, and leader of the Isrealites into the prom-
ised land, the Biblical Joshua appears to have significant similarities
to Beloveds Joshua renamed Stamp Paid. A self-identified spy and he
who ferries runaways across the Ohio River and into freedom, Stamp
can reasonably be likened to his namesake. Additionally, the Biblical
Joshua himself also underwent a change of names from Hoshea mean-
ing salvation to Joshua, the Lord saves. How are we to interpret
Stamps rejection of his given name and subsequent interrogation of
its accuracy?
Recall that Stamp Paid did not rename himself, rejecting his given
name, until he endured the experience of maintaining his life for
Vashti. At that point he was only vaguely aware of whatever his
obligations were and did not have a clear understanding of any sort
of imperative within which he might live. However, following his
experience with Vashti he made a conscious decision that whatever
obligations he did have, his act of paralysis paid them off. He no lon-
ger owed anyone anything and thus renamed himself Stamp Paid.
One could read this as Stamp Paid eschewing obligations and thus,
appropriately, rejecting the name Joshua with all of its implications
of service as well as the notion that the Lord saves. He had had his
share of misery and was not in any way embracing a sense of feel-
ing saved by the Lord. As such, the change to Stamp Paid directly
Morrisons Beloved, Nancian Community, and Derridean Witnessing 87
For Sethe it was as though the Clearing had come to her with all its
heat and simmering leaves, where the voices of women searched
for the right combination, the key, the code, the sound that broke
the back of words. Building voice upon voice until they found it,
and when they did it was a wave of sound wide enough to sound
deep water and knock the pods off chestnut trees. It broke over
Sethe and she trembled like the baptized in its wash. (261)
The sound created by the singing does not emerge from a single voice
but rather from building voice upon voice until they found it. The
voices are configured as dependent upon one another for the creation
of this immensely powerful sound indicating a literal manifestation of
a notion of beings radical interdependence. Furthermore, the singing
itself is significant insofar as it is a singing toward. The women are
Morrisons Beloved, Nancian Community, and Derridean Witnessing 89
They worked together for years like that, and when the Cubans
began disappearing from the bus line, Maximo and Rosa moved
their lunch packets indoors and opened their little restaurant
right on Eighth Street. There, a generation of former professors
served black beans and rice to the nostalgic. When Raul showed
up in Miami one summer looking for work, Maximo (not Rosa?)
added one more waiters spot for his old acquaintance from
L. Street. Each night, after the customers had gone, Maximo
and Rosa and Raul and Havanas old lawyers and bankers and
dreamers would sit around the biggest table and eat and talk and
sometimes, late in the night after several glasses of wine, some-
one would start the stories that began with In Cuba I remember.
They were stories of old lovers, beautiful and round-hipped. Of
skies that stretched on clear and blue to the Cuban hills. Of green
landscapes that clung to the red clay of Guines, roots dug in like
fingernails in a good-bye. In Cuba, the stories always began, life
was good and pure. But something always happened to them in
the end, something withering, malignant. Maximo never under-
stood it. The stories that opened in the sun, always narrowed into
a dark place. And after those nights, his head throbbing, Maximo
would turn and turn in his sleep and awake unable to remember
his dreams. (7, italics mine)
The necessarily good and pure character of this other time and
place is not at all incidental. As classic articulations of a metaphys-
ics of presence, the desire for and nostalgia concerning goodness
and purity (or goodness as purity and purity as goodness) is yet an
other manifestation of the will to essence or immanence that Nancy
discusses throughout his work on community. It is no accident that
98 The Ethics of Community
this is the precise manner that metaphysical truth and presence and
their attendant historical manifestations (subjectivity, masculinity,
whiteness, purity, and heteronormativity) have been mythologized.
Recall that the self-enclosed individual indicates an absolute for itself,
a pure entity utterly devoid of difference and movement. Purity, like
its cousin terms authenticity and even race, indeed indicates ideal-
ity, a fully present and transparent being in a correspondingly read-
able and reliably real world.5 By definition, at its most fundamental,
purity is the ultimate antithesis of difference and must forbid it to
achieve itself as such. That for which nostalgia yearns is generally this
imagined and mythologized state of complete understanding. Indeed
the notion of nostalgia has long been noted as a potentially dangerous
and threatening impulse, the precise opposite of an ethics of differ-
ence. As Nancy so painstakingly outlines, it is not simply the point
of departure of the individual that has bred destruction and terror
throughout our world, but the logic that sustains and propels it: that
of truth as purity and presence.
In other words, the past of another place (I remember in Cuba) is
certainly missed, but more particularly the participants understand
and thematize that what is lost is not just Cuba and the past but the
goodness and purity they allegedly embodied. Indeed a conceptual-
ization of the past as good and pure is a fine working definition of
nostalgia itself and this level of understanding is not lost upon these
exiles. Crucially, the stories that began with In Cuba I remember
always began life was good and pure. In their articulations, nos-
talgia cannot be in any other way than as a desire for the lost object
necessarily perceived as good and pure. The individual was thought
to be the path to this realization of existence. Whether it be a yearning
for that which is imagined to be lost or a looking forward to the com-
munity to come (by way of communism), both structures have denied
community and finitude and thus the difference and imperative ethic-
ity that constitutes being.
Rather than foster community as it often purports to do, nostalgia
cultivates precisely the opposite: death. This is the point that Nancy
and Derrida as well as Beloved and In Cuba I Was a German Shepherd
all seem to be driving home. The concept and corresponding mate-
rial manifestations of purity (which cannot be disentangled) are
murderous and must be so perceived. The murderous movement of the
nostalgic stories is notable to Maximo who never understood how
something always happened to them in the end, something wither-
ing, malignant (7).
The distinction between the stories withering and something wither-
ing befalling them must be underscored. The more traditionally struc-
tured the story withered implies that the teller lost her narrative skill
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 99
Maximos Resistance
Domino Park, the setting for much of the story and the place at which
Maximo and his friends spend most of their time, is an actual tourist
attraction in Little Havana on Eighth Street in Miami. A particularly
important space for our consideration, the Park as tourist attraction
embodies nostalgia at work and the alleged recovery and appropria-
tion of a lost time it promises. Maximos disdain for the dynamics
between the Domino-playing men and the tourists who watch them
is consistent throughout the story. While he is confused by the malig-
nancy of the nostalgic discourse at the restaurant (he never under-
stood), we see that the commodified nostalgia of the tours of Domino
Park is unmistakably offensive to him.6
As the following lines illustrate, Maximo resists going to the Park
from the beginning, explaining that he will not be the sad spectacle in
someones vacation slide show (9). However, his friend Raul is unde-
tered and coaxes Maximo along:
movement-between of the former and the stasis of the latter. Both zoo
animals and these Cuban (and non-Cuban!) men clearly move and thus
cannot help but deny the objectifying logic that attempts to fix them in
time, place, and language. Indeed the fact that Maximo feels like an
animal and wanted to growl and cast about behind the metal fence is
significant in that it indicates that Maximo in some way understands
the problem with fixity and wants to respond to it by moving fiercely.
A historical material manifestation of nostalgia and its implicitly
essentializing logic, the spectacle forecloses being and its possibilities
in a murderous and appropriative movement. Furthering the malig-
nancy metaphor of the nostalgic stories at the restaurant, the collec-
tion of old bones reduces the complexity and ecstatic movement of
being to a static and mass grave, necessarily invoking violent and mul-
tiple deaths. The correlation between the camp of exterminating con-
centration and the sad spectacle of old bones is not difficult to make.
Just as the camp takes a logic of purity to a deadly extreme, the Park
spectacle does the same (same) in reverse. Rather than exterminating
impurity, the tour bus and guide murders vis--vis romanticizing nos-
talgia, a fact obviously not lost upon Maximo given the terms in which
he frames his protest.
According to the theoretical explorations of Chapters 1 and 2, com-
munity, ecstasis, finitude, and writing are intricately entwined, inev-
itably thrusting forth an ethical imperative. In spite of the spectacle
to which the Park is reduced by the touristic gaze, also discernable
are moments of ecstatic eruption or disappropriation. In some way
the simultaneity of nostalgias desire to capture and fix, and beings
resistance to this reduction, confirms Nancys claim that community is
irrepressible (being cannot not compear). Nancy thus provides a theo-
retical exposition while Maximo in Domino Park shows us what such
a material manifestation of community and ethics might actually look
like. More specifically, not only does Maximo erupt against the tour
guide in a public and vociferous fashion but he is clearly transformed.
The scene and its aftermath thus call to mind the central themes of our
analysis: community, ethics, finitude, and bearing witness:
Most of these men are Cuban and theyre keeping alive the
tradition of their homeland, the amplified voice continued,
echoing against the back wall of the park. You see, in Cuba, it
was very common to retire to a game of dominos after a good
meal. It was a way to bond and build community. Folks, you here
are seeing a slice of the past. A simpler time of good friendships
and unhurried days.
Maybe it was the sun. The men later noted that he seemed odd.
The tics. Rubbing his bones.
First Maximo muttered to himself. He shuffled automatically.
When the feedback on the microphone pierced through Domino
Park, he could no longer sit where he was, accept things as they
were. It was a moment that had long been missing from his life.
He stood and made a fist at the trolley.
Mierda! he shouted. Mierda! Thats the biggest bullshit Ive
ever heard.
He made a lunge at the fence. Carlos jumped up and restrained
him. Raul led him back to his seat.
The man of the amplified voice cleared his throat. The people
on the trolley looked at him and back at Maximo; perhaps they
thought this was part of the show.
Well. The man chuckled. There you have it folks.
Lucinda ran over, but the other men waved her off. She began to
protest about rules and propriety. The park had a reputation to
uphold. (256)
Maximo turned so the men would not see his tears. The after-
noon traffic crawled eastward. One horn blasted, then another.
He remembered holding his daughters days after their birth,
thinking how fragile and vulnerable lay his bond to the future.
For weeks, he carried them on pillows, like jeweled China. Then
the blank spaces in his life lay before him. Now he stood with
the gulf at his back, their ribbony youth aflutter in the past. And
what had he salvaged from the years? Already, he was forgetting
Rosas face, the precise shade of her eyes. (29)
Then the blank spaces of his life lay before him. Now he stood
with the gulf at his back, their ribbony youth aflutter in the past.
And what had he salvaged through the years? Already he was for-
getting Rosas face, the precise shade of her eyes. (29, italics mine)
His youthful relation to time indicated blank spaces ahead while old
age brought a gulf at his back. Notably, both situations pointedly fail
to capture time as a spectacle and photograph attempt to do. The plural
blank spaces indicates a number of unknowns to come while the sin-
gular gulf implies a lone yet massive absence. Spatially structuring
temporality, they both call forth emptiness, non-presence, or absence
(in both time and space).
The metaphor of salvaging through time is also extremely telling
and gives us an even more intricate sense of Maximos experiences.
And what had he salvaged through the years? Maximos simple but
potent query resonates. Salvage connotes a recuperative keeping,
holding on, rescuing, and preservation from an unforeseeable mis-
fortune, wreckage, or disaster. For Maximo, time is the disaster from
which we attempt to rescue something of our lives. In spite of time
and the unforeseen circumstances of his life, what had he managed to
keep or recuperate? So well trained are we to conceive of value in terms
of appropriation that it may be difficult to even notice that Maximos
question implicitly values appropriation or keeping. The metaphysical
frame of holding on (itself a manifestation of the priority of presence)
will not be a ground that gives way easily.
Further indication that appropriation is here framed in and in spite
of time, and even more precisely that time itself is conceived in terms
of presence, is the fact that he gages what he has salvaged according
to what he can and cannot remember. Presumably, if he could have
remembered the precise shade of Rosas eyes, he would have had that
108 The Ethics of Community
When the wind eased Maximo tilted his head to listen. He heard
something stir behind him, someone leaning heavily on the
fence. He could almost feel the breath. His heart quickened.
Tell them go away, Maximo said. Tell them, no pictures. (29)
Lisettes Longing
Her Mothers House, the last story in the collection, tells the story
of Lisette, an only child of Cuban exiles living in Miami. Set in both
Miami and Cuba, the narrative is replete with both temporal and spa-
tial shifts, often making it difficult to construct a cohesive and orderly
sequence of events. However, a basic chronological restructuring
reveals that from the earliest years of her childhood, Lisettes life is
framed by her mothers intense longing for her own childhood home
lost in the Cuban revolution. As a recently divorced young woman
(paradoxically frustrated by her ex-husbands belief that the past is
something you can play again like an old song), Lisette is driven by
a desire to visit the house of her mothers stories. When a reporting
assignment presents her with an opportunity to travel to Cuba, she
jumps at the chance. Undeterred by her mothers protests, Lisette thus
makes the journey to her mothers house, seeking fulfillment and ori-
entation for her life, which she experiences as uncomfortably uncertain
due to its lack of a beginning that every story needs. The trip to Cuba
is thus meant to fill in a perceived absence of cultural, national, and
personal origin. However, upon encountering the house for which her
mother was half mad with longing and which was always in the air,
behind every reproach, Lisette discovers that her mother (Mabella)
had deceived everyone and that the house described as majestic was
in fact comparable to a shack, particularly when contrasted with the
relative opulence of the house in which they all lived in Coral Gables, a
generally affluent section of Miami (206).
The destabilization of her separation from her husband Erminio
forms the backdrop for Lisettes desire to travel to Cuba, that is, to find
solid ground upon which to stand and confidently understand her
identity (which she perceived, at the beginning of the story, as identifi-
able). In her own words, . . . every story needed a beginning and her
past had come to seem like a blank page, waiting for the truth to darken
it (210). Thus we can ascertain that prior to her trip to Cuba, Lisette
had been thinking metaphysically and actively sought her origin and
the sense of groundedness it would ostensibly provide. The obstacle
she perceived was her lack of the beginning of her story, the truth to
darken the page that was her life. If she could only visit the house and
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 111
thereby finally encounter the origin of which she had been deprived
(and which was indeed a foundational absence in her life) she could
finally begin her life.
The text is replete with figurations that valorize and glorify clarity,
intelligibility, and truth, and indeed Lisettes desire for such possession
is visible throughout the narrative.11 Mostly, Lisette yearns for a world
in which bearing witness and the centrality of narrative it implies is
unnecessary. Having had enough of storytelling given her mothers
endless accounts of her childhood home (That house. Always in the air
behind every reproach), Lisette seeks a directly accessible and entirely
retrievable world (206). Although she herself scarcely comprehends
this desire she is crystal clear concerning the heart of the matter: She
wasnt going to explain to her mother things she could barely explain to
herself. How every story needed a beginning (210, italics mine).
Storytelling
Upon encountering the actual house, everything changes and Lisette
confronts the fact that her mother had lied.12 Given that the endless
stories of her mothers house had been such a central aspect of her
life, the realization of her mothers deception is immensely disruptive.
Upon encountering the lie of the house, she not only understands but
additionally experiences that her origin, both in terms of her mothers
house and her very being, is a story. In other words, she experiences
the impossibility of catching up to herself in language, that is, she
experiences difference, finitude, and imperative ethicity. Interestingly,
in an eerie performative move, the original master or grand house
that was to provide the origin for Lisette was the vehicle for the master
or grand narrative of the concept of origin itself.
Lisette thus finds precisely the opposite of the origin, ground, and
corresponding certainty she had been seeking and can now only pine
for the narratives within which she previously operated (her desire
shifting from the possession of first-hand knowledge of the house and
Cuba to the desire for the initial desire; or from desire of object to desire
of desire of object): If only Lisette could get up now and return to the
hotel in Havana . . . back to the Cuba she could talk about later, the simple
stories of the rafters, the plain facts of their sadness (221). Recognizing
that their sadness (and who is included in this their?) is no longer
factual and the rafters stories have lost their simple quality, Lisette
cannot return to her once guiding paradigm. Indeed her experience in
Cuba and encounter with the house makes her less grounded, cultur-
ally, nationally, and ontologically, than ever. As we shall explore in the
following pages, Lisette rather finds that she is far more disoriented and
groundless than she had been when she embarked upon her journey to
Cuba seeking the beginning that every story needs (210).
112 The Ethics of Community
rendered in the gerund, the retelling itself refuses the closure that
the this suggests (and simultaneously denies).
The last clause of the sentence reinforces this antinomy with which
the text at large is concerned and which so frustrates Lisette: . . . is a
present thought in this retelling, the way she described it to herself
much later (218). To hold open the paradoxes of a present thought in
this retelling alongside the way she described it to herself much later
is strictly speaking impossible. Assuming that the present thought in
this retelling is the present thinking of the narrator/Lisette as she
is telling it to the reader (which refuses temporal designation), how do
we contend with the disconnect of the way she described it to herself
much later? In other words, what she has written and what we are
reading, which was (in some manner) present to her at the time of the
writing or retelling and is now present to us as we read (again
and again and again), is only the way that she herself understood it
retrospectively, thus not present at all. The narrator accentuates the
fact that we are not receiving the present of this present thought but
a re-presentation (with the temporal lag it necessarily implies). The
not so subtle insinuation is that the present thought is not a present
thought. And although it is present to the reader as they are read-
ing, and was present to author/narrator/Lisette at the time of the writ-
ing as a thought (with its own temporal and linguistic ruptures), it is
necessarily (doubly) removed temporally and linguistically from the
present. In other words, the text tells the reader that we will not arrive
at a present thought, indeed that there is no such thing as a present
thought. The absence of even the possibility of presence in telling, in
bearing witness, is the emergence of finitude and imperative ethicity.
The narrator reveals and traces Lisettes experiences of these events
and prompts the reader to conceivably experience it through and as
this tracing.
As replete as it is with significatory and temporal disjunctures, the
line in question refuses more than it offers, highlighting the problem-
atic nature of presence and meaning not only for exiles and immigrants
but for being in general. Arguably, it is the ardent desire for intelligibil-
ity, presence, and home of exiles and their children that provides the
impetus for such meditations. This yearning powerfully inscribes the
impossibility of presence vis--vis the denial of national and cultural
recuperation and possession. Despite herself, Lisette cannot help but
recognize the complex, slippery, and rupturous nature of bearing wit-
ness and imperative ethicity. (All she can do is engage the retelling of
the idea of her mothers house rather than possess, retrieve, and pres-
ent the house as it really is. However, much as she longs to return to
the simple stories of the rafters, the plain truths of their sadness, she
114 The Ethics of Community
realizes the impossibility of her desire for this and any other manner
of possession.
Interruption
The revelation of the dis-continuity between her mothers stories and
the actual house directly result in experiences of dis-continuous being.
In what follows we examine the various disorientations that Lisette
thus endures:
Lisette saw the way Lisidro bent his head toward this house, this
little dream. His lips moved, wordless. Alicia took her hand. And
then Lisette was sitting at a wood table inside a small kitchen. A
kerosene stove, a bucket of oil, a yellowed basin filled with water,
a refrigerator covered in silver tape, black at the edges. Lisidro
kept moving his lips at Lisette. She blinked. Was that her laughter?
Inside it was dark; the contrast with the outdoors made her eyes
hurt. She tried to look at Alicia, her polished coconut face. (219)
The closing lines of the paragraph reveal the most intense disjunc-
ture: Was that her laughter? Inside it was dark; the contrast with the
outdoors made her eyes hurt. She tried to look at Alicia, her polished
coconut face (219). The certainty of the identification of ones own
being, of a continuity between self and expression (never mind the con-
tinuity between idea and rendering), is lost. When she hears laugh-
ter, she cannot be sure if it is she or another who laughs. The question
does not concern the precariousness of signification but rather of literal
expression (laughter), which she cannot trace back to its origin. The
experience reveals a startling incoherence of being and simultaneously
an uncertainty regarding the division between self and other.
Notably, laughter is the vehicle that disrupts the self/other opposition.
As a nonrepresentational and ecstatic event (or an erupting disruption
to representation) that cannot be pinned down to an origin, laughter
can be aligned with finitude and imperative ethicity. An extension of
no-thing and functioning outside of an order of signification, laughter
has the potential to expose us to the way in which we are not one and
are rather constituted by finitude.13 In other words, it is potentially an
event of imperative ethicity. Laughter then denies self-enclosure, the
individual (as Nancy outlines the concept), and identity. Appropriately
then it is laughter that momentarily erases a border between self and
other, radically denying the identity that Lisette had sought.
Lisette also experiences a precariousness of cultural and national
identity, evident in her anxiety about her Cuban-ness (she had been
vaguely hurt that no one recognized her as Cuban and exaggerated
the contours of the words so there would be no doubt that she was
one of them) and a new ambiguity regarding what Cuba means (she
longed to return to the Cuba she could talk about later, the simple
stories of the rafters, the plain facts of their sadness, 213, 221). In addi-
tion to the failure of her mothers house to serve as a point of truth and
origin, Lisette experiences Cuba itself as disconnected from her moth-
ers stories. Inconsistent with her mothers narration and the plain
facts of their sadness, the Cuba Lisette experience is complicated and
not easily totalized. She directly confronts a different story of Cuba
when Matun relates his understanding of the government from which
Lisettes family fled:
You know. The government has been very helpful to us. Yes,
very generous with us. They gave us this land when your grand-
parents left. Every Sunday, me and the wife drive the scooter to
Havana and sell guavas and mangoes. We are not poor; we are
doing very well, he said. Thanks to our government and the
grace of God. (224)
116 The Ethics of Community
(while simultaneously living in an actual one).16 One might say that not
only is the house one of someone elses imaginings, a different story
but the Cuba that she encounters with Matun, Alicia, and Lisidro is
similarly a different Cuba. What does this disparity reveal? Certainly
it is interesting and significant that the real is discursively constituted
but it carries an immediate urgency insofar as the stories that we
tell affect the ways in which we live our lives, how we understand,
approach, and experience our being in and as a part of the world. In
other words, imperative ethicity (and bearing witness) is a difference
that makes a difference.17
As we already observed, while the concrete world is foregrounded
in the lie, the narratives or imaginings that emerge within and from
it are stressed simultaneously. The fact that Lisette reveals that she
wishes she could go back to the Cuba that she could talk about later,
the simple stories of the rafters, the plain facts of their sadness indi-
cates something in addition to an emphasis upon a material horizon
of being (221). At stake in this quote is a Cuba that Lisette recognizes
she will be unable to talk about later and one to which she wishes
that she could return. Notions of access (talk about) and retrieval (later)
are implicitly evoked yet again. The brief quote reveals that simple
stories and plain facts can be retrieved and articulated while the
Cuba that she encounters on her visit belies such access. Presumably
this Cuba that she experiences is not simple or factual.
That to which Lisette would like to return is a fully present world
accessible by a fully present subject. Arguably, the easily spoken and
retrieved simple stories and plain facts work neatly and clearly
within a logocentric perspective concerning the relationship between
being, the world, and language. In this view, as we have seen, a fully
present being accesses an already meaningful world which is then
nonproblematically accessed and retrieved. Lisette has experienced an
ontological rupture that forbids a self-understanding as fully present.
Additionally, the multiple disruptions between her mothers narratives
and those of Matun cause a further interruption of a present, unshak-
able, and fully exterior reality. Lisette appears cognizant of the central
role of narrative within her understandings when she indicates that
the house she perceives is the house of someone elses imaginings, a
different story (219). The easy correlation between a fully present sub-
ject experiencing an already (and thus unalterably) meaningful world,
and its attendant clarity (which Lisette repeatedly reveals she desires),
become impossible. A single and foundational real that she can access
and continually recount is recognized as another fiction upon which
she has based her life and understanding. The inability to talk about
this Cuba later reveals the profound extent to which Lisette appears
to perceive a particular divide, rupture, or interruption between
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 121
L.:
So happy youve finally decided to write that novel. I think the
Cuban experience is a great idea for a book. You have to promise
me one thing: You have to make fun of them. Theres no other
way to write this. Send me what you have.
Love you. Miss you. Cant wait to see you.
A.
The letter was typed, as if the sender wanted to remove the last
trace of himself. She couldnt remember receiving it. Who was A.
Had she ever thought of writing a novel? . . ..
Had she written the note herself? She sat at her old bed and tried
to reach back into the years. She met herself going the other way.
Promising she would never write, never publish, never be a spe-
cial section in the bookstore. Better to write about berms and
set-asides, last nights vote in a small room of microphones and
lights. (2267)
engaged as a reader. Love you, miss you, cant wait to see you also
implies a relationship that exceeds simple creation.
Given the palimpsest of being, language, and world, accessing the
author and text as independent entities is impossible. In her inability
to ascertain the author of the note as well as our inability to find the
original text referenced therein (does it refer to the one Lisette writes
that is this story, the whole text of In Cuba I Was a German Shepherd, the
one that we the reader create?), Lisette as author and reader and we
the reader (as author and reader) find ourselves in the throes of fini-
tude and imperative ethicity and within the realm of bearing witness.
While this experience is certainly unsettling it is nonetheless valuable
and important. Here we experience our being as differance, as writing,
and we are correspondingly interrupted; we cannot possibly be the
same (in both senses of the word).
The content of the note further accentuates the ways in which issues
of exile and culture are pertinent to those of authorship and textuality.
At one point Lisette had considered writing a book about the Cuban
experience, which we understand from reading this very story in
which the letter appears is impossible to access and rather opens into the
necessity of bearing witness. One way to write about the Cuban expe-
rience might be to write about the impossibility of writing about the
Cuban experience, which is arguably the very text that we are reading
(the Cuba of her experience cannot be talked about later). Interestingly
the letter also indicates that You have to make fun of them. There is no
other way to write this, a clear imperative. The degree to which Lisette
(and the text at large) makes fun of its characters is debatable but the
interruption of straight re-presentation implicit within making fun is
undeniable as is the observation concerning the impossibility of reflect-
ing a straightforward (not making fun) Cuban experience.
The discovery of the letter from A. is directly followed by the ad
that Lisette writes for the paper in which she describes her childhood
home that they are trying to sell (revealing that Lisette is letting go
of two homes): Beautiful Coral Gables home, five bedrooms, three
baths, vaulted ceilings in the dining room. Balcony with wrought-iron
railings overlooking large pool. Entrance flanked by royal palms. She
paused and added, The house of your dreams (227). Importantly, the
final detail (entrance flanked by royal palms) is used by her mother
to describe the house in Cuba. In a manner similar to the simultaneous
conflation and spacing between Ana Menendez, Lisette, and reader
or author and text/reader, the house referenced in the title Her
Mothers House is ambiguous. The house of her mothers childhood
in Cuba is the one with which Mabella is consumed and describes in
tremendous detail as opulent and luxurious. Lisette reveals that she
began to remember all of it too indicating that it assumed a central
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 125
role in the lives of both mother and daughter (207). However, given that
Lisettes visit reveals the degree to which her mother had fabricated
the elaborate details of the house, we are left wondering if the house of
her mothers preoccupation is the one in Cuba or the one in which she
actually lives in Coral Gables. It appears possible that the later Coral
Gables house became superimposed upon the memory of the house
in Cuba further underscoring the role of narrative in our lives and the
impossibility of disentangling reality and textuality.
Indeed throughout the entire narrative we are presented with small
details of the Coral Gables house that overlap with the presentation of
the house in Cuba. During a dramatic moment in which Lisettes mother
remembers how the soldiers took her house, she tells Lisette that she
walked straight, not turning once to look at the stained-glass windows
. . . not even the white columns that climbed to the second floor. And the
iron railing on the balcony where the rattan furniture was laid out for
company, the clink of glasses. Lisette began to remember all of it too
(20607). Additionally, Lisettes father reveals to Lisette that:
The first years of their marriage, all her mother did was talk about
her lost plantation. Her father told Lisette how she used to lie in
bed giving him imaginary tours of the house. The graceful stair-
way laced with gardenias in the summer, the marble fireplace
her father had installed on a whim after visiting the States, the
long white-shuttered windows that looked out over the gardens,
the mar pacificos, the royal palms. Your grandfather was the only
one who could grow roses in Cuba. People came as far as Oriente
to see them. (214)
her life with the relationship between Lisette and the author of the note
is instructive as it calls forth the degree to which textuality is a central
element of being, which in turn underscores metaethical possibili-
ties. Lisette ultimately realizes the degree to which the original house
she sought is fabricated by her mother and necessarily textual. While
apparently not cognizant of the process, Mabella is figured as similarly
enveloped in textuality. Her preoccupation with her childhood house
and the stories she tells of it become interwoven with the house of her
present. The origin figured as house, author, or even as text (suggested
in the note) are all impossible to locate as independent entities and rather
revealed to be immersed within and a part of the deferral and rupture
that is writing. The experience of origins impossibility is an experience
of finitude that awakens us to the necessity of bearing witness.
The inescapability of the constructedness inherent to recollection and
iteration (and the attendant exposure to finitude and denial of origin)
becomes increasingly visible to Lisette and the narrator who ultimately
thematize the impossibility of talking about it later and recapturing
experience in time and language. Arguably, the exile experience facili-
tates such recognition as exiles and their offspring are removed in time
and space from an imagined and longed for origin.
Beings complete immersion in language and time is certainly not
a new consideration. In the case of Lisette and her mothers house,
however, we have occasion to examine the ways in which Nancys
imperative ethicity and Derridean bearing witness play themselves
out in a particular situation of immigration or exile. Recall that
according to Nancy there is an radically prior imperative at the heart
of discourse or language (within which being inevitably exists).
Denying ideality and foundation, imperative ethicity is the spacing
within fi nitude that drives any and all narrative. Our existence within
it thus places being fi rmly within an imperative. We can only exist
as spacing and obligation to the other. Even though neither Lisette
nor her mother express any overt obligatory sense, the imperative
can nonetheless be located within the opening of a linguistic space
that is underscored as an interruption of the continuity to which
Lisette and her mother aspire in distinct ways. The Enlightenment
notions of truth, presence, and a locatable origin, although fervently
sought, are revealed to be impossibilities and in their place lies a
recognition of the ruptured (and arguably rapturous) relationship
of being to itself, language, and time. It is within the space created
by this interruption that beings movement becomes possible and
an imperative highlighted. These observations allow us to perceive
new understandings and connections. First, we are permitted a view
of the manner in which exile experience lends itself to deconstruc-
tive sensibilities. Second, we can locate moments wherein an ethical
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 127
Her parents had thrown a party here after shed returned from
Cuba, all of them healthy and young, the orange trees in blossom,
128 The Ethics of Community
In contrast to the above quote, the majority of the body of the text is an
account of Lisettes visit to her mothers house in Cuba in which the
road to her mothers house is not presented as structurally cohesive
(as it is disrupted by Lisettes internal dialogue as well as the simple
fact of her being literally lost) making it difficult to piece together a
solid description. However, that which the narration does present is
inconsistent with the framing narratives (although it does not entirely
deny them either). Given that the descriptions repeated in the opening
and close of the text are absent in the body rather than contradicted, it
appears possible that they might be accurate. Lisette turned onto the
first opening in the field, a bumpy road of loose sand and stone. The
men stepped aside to let her pass. The landscape was green and flat but
for the hills. She came to the end of the road where it disappeared into
a field of sugarcane (21415). There is no wooden bridge mentioned
on the way to her mothers house, the men do not resume the road
while she continues to drive, and the royal palms dissipate quite early
giving way to a dusty and flat landscape. Although these narrations
appear inconsistent, it is difficult to definitively assert the impossibil-
ity of their coexistence. The text continually frustrates our attempts
to achieve narrative cohesiveness and firmly decide what version to
believe or what logical account to construct.
The identical narration repeated at the start and close of the story
could be interpreted as imagined recollections in the opening lines
(she began to remember it all too) and then a knowingly false mem-
ory after the fact in the closing ones (which would render the narra-
tion in the body in which the repeated details are absent true), or is
perhaps simply a repetition of an accurate description of events (that is
simply absent from the body of the text). In the latter case, the narration
with which the text opens (discussing the wooden bridge that opens
into a field of sugar cane) is possibly a portion that belongs chrono-
logically in the central body of the story, which is composed of Lisettes
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 129
experience of her visit to Cuba and her mothers house. In this case, the
identical account presented at the start of the text in third-person nar-
ration (but belonging in the body) and the close of the text in Lisettes
own first-/third- person narration would be an honest rendering of her
experiences on the way to her mothers house. Essentially, it would be
a portion of the narrative placed out of place insofar as it is presented
in the first paragraph of the text and absent in the body where it would
temporally and thematically belong. Read in this way, there is a consis-
tency between the opening and (nearly) closing narratives of the way to
her mothers house, and there is discontinuity solely in the disruption
of the chronology of the narrative. However, at the very least, interpret-
ing the account of the road to her mothers house presented in the first
lines and closing pages as simply accurate is vexed, given that in the
entire narrative of the trip we are presented with no such view. We
cannot be certain of the veracity of the accounts that frame the story as
a whole (and indeed we might be prompted to provisionally conclude
that the story itself precisely denies a sense of wholeness). In the end,
a simple interpretation of narrative displacement feels unsatisfactory;
there appears to be a more complex (and unheimlich) event or disrup-
tion occurring.
One manner of accessing this experience of narrative discontinuity
or inconsistency (that in some way refuses access) is to consider it an
invitation into disruption; thinking about the text this closely is a call
to be interrupted or to experience the finitude about which the story
is concerned both thematically and structurally. The narration of the
road to her mothers house demands that the reader think about lan-
guage (just as the road is the means of access to the house, language
is the means of access to the house), which is itself figured as thinking
about finitude (the roads in the story fail to correspond to each other
just as Cuba and the house fail to correspond to the stories of them).
The result of both discontinuities is a certain interruption or experi-
ence of finitude.
It is equally possible that the opening line of the text involving the
description of the road to her mothers house that crossed a wooden
bridge into a field of sugarcane that bent green and wide to the horizon
before it narrowed into a path flanked on both sides by proud stands
of royal palms exists solely in Lisettes imagination (very probably
that which was provided to her by her mother which she began to
remember too, 20506). In this event, a narrative voice of certainty (a
third-person omniscient narrator) presents the reader with two con-
trasting presentations of the same event, one in the opening and clos-
ing and the other in the body. Provocatively, the narration that is more
embellished (and thus suspect given the reality of the house in Cuba)
is presented twice, once in the opening line of the text and once in the
130 The Ethics of Community
there in the shadow, is a present thought in this retelling, the way she
described it to herself much later (218). We have already addressed the
numerous disruptions of this singular meta-observation of the text that
reveals the complexity of temporality and narrative in any retelling
(and by implication, the corresponding unreliability). Contextualized
by the preceding quote (as well as Lisettes observation that she will
not be able to return to the Cuba she could talk about later), the
blending of first- and third-person narrations once again evinces the
impossibility of certainty and foundation within narrative. This is a
story about far more than the truth or falsity of her mothers stories and
rather much more profoundly performs the perpetual movement and
slippage of being, time, and narration. Arrival at a ground or origin,
that which Lisette so desperately sought, is revealed to be radically and
provocatively unattainable.
Might the bizarre juxtaposition of first- and third-person narration
(occurring in a dual and overlapping manner much like the relation-
ship between being and language itself) illustrate a manner in which
all narration occurs in some way in the third person as well as the
first, neither of which are strictly speaking, mine? Refusing to be traced
back to a solid or foundational I of experience, being in time and lan-
guage can only continue to tell a story of itself and the text is inevitably
a performance of these events (which is itself an irrepressibly activated
imperative ethicity and bearing witness). What rendering of an experi-
ence can escape the inevitability of existing as a narrative? Although it
is an I who speaks, it is one who invariably emerges from and within
a linguistic, temporal, and material context that refuses both origin
and arrival and is therein composed of finitude.20 In this sense lan-
guage is simultaneously mine and not mine or as Derrida articulates I
only have one language; it is not mine (Derrida, Language Is Never
Owned, Sovereignties, 104). Lisette thus finds herself (and correspond-
ingly, we the reader find ourselves in the narrative) in a position of
continual slippage and interruption that the narrative underscores in
various ways, revealing a denial of cohesiveness in and of being, time,
language, and world. It is perhaps no accident that the displaced nar-
rative of the visit to Cuba and her mothers house does not concern the
house itself, but the way to it. It is not only the object of recuperation
(the house) that belies capture but additionally the literal (and figura-
tive) road to retrieval (language) is unattainable and the two are, in the
end, the same. In other words, since an experience can only be accessed
and retold linguistically, it is bound (and arguably liberated) by and
within its medium.
We have addressed the bizarre relationship between the first- and
third-person narrations of the line concerning the road to her moth-
ers house as well as the inconsistency between the repeated line and
132 The Ethics of Community
the main body of the narration of the visit. However, we have yet to
unravel the structural issue of the displacement of the narrative spe-
cifically in terms of its opening of the story. The thematic and chrono-
logical displacement of the first paragraph of the story indicates that
cohesiveness is already challenged. The idea of a whole, clear, and
intelligible narrative account is structurally dispelled from the first
lines of the text. Although Lisette reveals that she wants a truth to
darken her past, the narrative has already denounced the possibility
of this arrival in the multiply ambiguous first lines, which themselves
challenge the very notions that would make a definitive truth a possi-
bility in the first place (the strict separation between being, language,
and world forbidden by the strange relationship between the first- and
third-person narrations of this same line as well as by the inconsis-
tency of this line with the central narrative of the visit to her mothers
house). In other words, despite Lisettes explicit desire (or rather, even
in her desires given the nature of desire itself) for origin and foun-
dation, the text has recognized its impossibility from the beginning
(as bearing witness inevitably does). Desire for origin is thus in some
sense an oxymoron.
Language, narrative, or story is both the context out of which being
fundamentally emerges and simultaneously the manner in which being
can be an issue for itself ( la Heideggerian Dasein). Language is both
(groundless) ground and the vehicle through and in which being can
bear witness to an other. Indeed we saw in Chapter 1 how both impera-
tive ethicity and bearing witness occur in language and being as obli-
gation and promise to the other. When Lisette journeyed to Cuba she
sought a firm and uncontestable origin but rather encountered a pleth-
ora of narrative and ontological interruptions that forbade any such
cohesiveness, beginning, or clarity. A close reading of the text reveals
that the lines that divide being from language and time are blurred
throughout the story. Lisette can no more reach a central ground and
origin of her life, experience, and narrative any more than the reader
can of its rendering, which, in the end, amounts to the same thing. The
experience of the reader who attempts to find the center, or place from
which the various convolutions emerge, is frustrated and we find our-
selves circling, repeating, and rewording in a vain attempt to arrive.
Like Lisette, we must continually engage in a coming closer, an on the
way to (road or story of) this unheimlich relationship between experi-
ence and its articulation (or Derridean bearing witness), which is to
say, between experience and language and the extra-discursive event
of their overlapping.
The attempt to articulate the many intersecting ways in which there
is a road to her mothers house brings forth the non-recuperable
events that are Nancian imperative ethicity and bearing witness,
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 133
destination. Upon encountering the young man from whom she solicits
information, we find that the map is read in various manners:
sat waving her soft map like a small flag (213). As an obvious symbol
of a nation-state that is most frequently invoked in view of an achieved
(generally unexamined) national identity and a corresponding pride
(necessarily unexamined) to which Lisette appeared to aspire or
already possess, a flag is a provocative simile. The map/flag is both
a literal guide to her mothers house and a metaphorical path to her
perceived and desired ground for identity or imagined Cuban-ness.
Indeed directly following the image that conceives of the map as a flag,
we are presented with several lines that illustrate Lisettes desire for
recognition as Cuban and the subsequent hurt in its absence: It had
happened to her in Havana and Lisette had been vaguely hurt that no
one recognized her as Cuban (21213). Further she clearly conceives
of a Cuban-ness in terms of an us (although the narrator does not,
using a them for Cubans) insofar as she accentuates the contours
of the words so the man would have no doubt she was one of them
(213). Lisettes desire to absolutely ground her identity in an imagined,
fully present and immanently meaningful Cuba (and thus making
it possible for her to achieve Cuban-ness) is amply evident in these
lines. The truth of her past that she had been seeking is revealed to be
a national past complete with a fixed and unshakable Cuban identity.
The likening of the map to a flag concretizes (albeit through simile)
the complicity of Enlightenment organizing principles, nationalism,
and its corresponding identity politics. These structures of thought are
restrictive and damaging to Lisette and their constructed nature are
ultimately perceived in Lisettes ontologically disruptive experiences
at her mothers house.
In addition to evoking nationality, the flag appears to Lisette as a
direct representation of her mothers cryptics. Unable to ascertain
the meaning of the M in the box drawn on the map, Lisette assumes
that her mother is being intentionally obtuse in an effort to throw off
potential harassers who might determine that the map is an incrimi-
nating document (212). That which Lisette interprets as cryptic we
later learn is an accurate signifier of Militar, a point of orientation on
the road to her mothers house. Reading and misreading is plainly fore-
grounded in this sequence. Lisette believes that her mother aspires to
being unreadable when in fact it is Lisette who misreads both the map
and her mother given that the M actually does signify in straight
representational fashion. Or does it?
The man from whom Lisette received directions appears to immedi-
ately recognize the M as indicative of Militar as he responds accord-
ingly when Lisette pointed to the block in the right hand corner, where
the road branched to the right. She looked up. Militar, the man said
and shrugged as if something struck him as silly (213). However, in
order to understand or make sense of the map as a whole, he must
136 The Ethics of Community
She looked at her mother. Watched her hands turn in her lap.
Everything was the same Lisette said after a moment. The
stairway, the balconies. Even the marble fireplace. Somehow, it
all made it through the revolution.
She faced her mother. Held her chin her hands. (228)
Looking pointedly at her mother as she tells the story, Lisette and her
mother become curiously joined in the lie. A profound moment of con-
nection is borne from the known disjuncture between narration and
reality conspiratorially linking the two as they alone share the secret.
Simultaneously, she confronts her mother with her lies by not telling
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 137
the truth in a manner that is perhaps more profound than if she were
to out the secret. You know that I know and I know that you know
that I know is an unspoken yet powerful movement between Lisette
and her mother. Additionally, it could be viewed as a challenge to her
mother to tell the truth. Here, a false rendering reinforces the possible
veracity and potential integrity of an experience that is inherent to
bearing witness. If the power of bearing witness lies in the you have
to believe me implicit therein, subverting its central element simply
reinforces the absent presentation that has been knowingly denied. As
such, the continuation of the lie functions to make more intense the
bearing witness of Lisettes experience of the house.
She was an editor at the paper now, had her own office overlook-
ing the bay. She was a little in love with a German psychologist
who loved her back. In the evenings they had long conversations
about the will and happiness. On Sundays they had some people
from his practice for lunch and she put out her good crystal and
the leather-bound Rilke . . .When, alone with him, the people
gone home, she would complain of despair, her sick parents, he
would hold her face and tenderly ask, Why do you not kill your-
self? It was an old joke with them. And Lisette always laughed.
Logotherapy, he called it the first time. And shed understood loco
therapy. There is meaning in this, he insisted. And he waved his
arms meaning everything. Yes, shed say, its all loco. (225)
outside of the logos that her German boyfriend believes can heal her
and give her back the meaning that she has lost. However, Lisettes
mis-hearing in Spanish reveals that for her this notion is not reason-
able but rather crazy.
In contrast, when referencing that she is tired from her trip, would
not like a tour of the house, and has a lot of work to do, there is an odd
translation into English that is clearly a direct translation from Spanish.
Tengo mucho trabajo is literally and awkwardly translated into I
have much work. Additionally, and even more interestingly, Estoy
demasiado cansada por el viaje is again directly and thus strangely
translated to I am enough tired from the trip. In English, this phrase
barely works as a sentence. Here, she is plainly thinking both in English
and Spanish, arriving at a strange juxtaposition between the two that is
neither Spanglish nor an accurate English translation, perhaps indicat-
ing an eerie space between languages and cultures.
Given these observations it becomes apparent that Her Mothers
House is a text that is at least partly in English in/and Spanish. It
is not simply translated or dubbed as the original is in Spanish in/
and English thereby problematizing the concept of locatable origin.
As we have seen, the text is preoccupied by a simultaneous desire for
and refusal of a static temporal and linguistic origin that is repeatedly
revealed to be a slippery and unfixable narrative. The original is thus
not original. The implicit and explicit juxtaposition of Spanish and
English is a structural thematization of the lack of origin in language.
Not only is there no origin to the story or stories (that of Lisette and
Her Mothers House) and not only is language by nature multiple,
diffuse, and productive, but literally the juxtaposition and at times
superimposition of Spanish and English underscores this complex pro-
cess. The third-person omniscient narrator vacillates between translat-
ing, failing to translate, and translating badly leaving the reader with a
trace of a gesture toward what would have ostensibly been the origi-
nal, which is itself (not) presented (as it is conspicuously absent); fur-
ther, the reader is rather presented with a translation that is not quite a
translation as it is the original of the text. The original is thus neither
present nor absent and both.
Our analysis in this chapter has complicated notions of language
and home. While we can certainly appreciate Perez-Firmats asser-
tion that If the voyage of cultural recovery has to be undertaken in
English, the loss is irreparable we must also recognize the inherent
complications of cultural recovery evinced in the many layers of
Lisettes journey to Cuba upon which she embarked with precisely
this goal (Perez-Firmat 1989, 139). Recovery, home, and language them-
selves signify indeterminately as we witnessed in the preceding explo-
ration. Lisettes quest to unearth her Cuban-ness failed not because she
140 The Ethics of Community
had been geographically removed from her parents place of birth and
engaged the retelling in Spanish and English, but more pointedly as a
result of the undeniable and powerful refusal of full presence or mean-
ing (that which is sought in the recovery) of Cuban-ness, which itself
indicates no-thing (which is distinct from a claim that it is nothing).23
The refusal of origin, full presence, and identity are almost necessar-
ily brought to the fore in the context of the 1.5 generation of which
Lisette is a member. With two foreign parents, growing up in Miami,
her identity and culture are neither American nor Cuban. Complicating
a strict notion of culture and identity as pure or authentic, Lisettes
experience is not uncommon in its multiplicity. She is (as we all are)
both and neither. The language of a blended Spanish and English is
her language and thus the very notion of a home language is already
directly problematized.
While Ana Menendez Her Mothers House appears to function
as though the central revelatory movements proceed from a belief and
desire for a truth to a recognition of its impossibility, it additionally
performs a Nancian non-meaningful meaning of the act of telling a
story, bearing witness, or narration itself (imperative ethicity). In other
words, the text plays out but is not self-reflexive concerning the nonsig-
nificatory significance of the telling. In this sense, it activates while not
thematizing the sacred stripped of the sacred that is a central compo-
nent of bearing witness, Nancian community, and imperative ethicity.
It is not truth that lies beneath but inevitably escapes our grasp but
rather narrative or rendering (or bearing witness), and it is this final
step that is thematically absent from the text. Her Mothers House
stresses Lisettes craving for self-presence and certainty and simultane-
ously reveals the extent to which this truth that it craves is a construct
(which we have been discussing throughout the chapter), but impor-
tantly it additionally performs that what is present as a non-presence
(in being, time, and language and their interlacing) is the meaningless
meaning in narrative imperative ethicity. The text knows this but does
not know that it knows. Thus while it highlights its desire for presence,
on another level it speaks the extra-discursive power of the telling.
Her Mothers House is a story that thematizes its protagonists
desire for origin as something that she could barely explain to herself
(210). However Lisette and the text seem to move in opposite directions
regarding their relation to the desire for origin and recognition of its
impossibility. While Lisette can barely explain to herself her desper-
ate search for origin and truth, the text barely explains to itself that
there is something other in desire, in ontological and narrative slip-
page, noncoincidence, and a pointed rejection of foundational think-
ing. It offers these alternatives but fails to recognize them as it does so
explicitly with their opposite. The reverse order of Lisette and the texts
Ethics as the Eruption of Finitude 141
relationship to a desire for truth and origin lies in the fact that Lisette
barely understands her desire for truth and origin and the text barely
understands desire, that is, its desire for the opposite.
Conclusion
Perhaps one of the the many things that Ana Menendez In Cuba I Was
a German Shepherd illustrates is that the eruption of finitude or the ethi-
cal event of community is not necessarily joyous or even comfortable. It
may not cleanse or feel good as it did at times in Beloved. Indeed by
definition an eruption is in some manner unsettling so we should per-
haps not expect to be happily transformed. But it transforms nonethe-
less. Both Maximo and Lisette are changed by the close of their stories
and approach their world differently in the context of an activation of
community, finitude, and bearing witness. If we consider these dif-
ferences as evoking more open and less appropriative relationships to
themselves, others, and the world, and in some way getting their
inseparable nature, then that is enough.
But we cannot help but wonder if the melancholia so potent through-
out both stories (and the text as a whole) stems also from an unexam-
ined belief that we are ultimately supposed to truly know ourselves
and our world vis--vis some magical experience of certainty, clear
understanding, and an experience of ontological appropriation (one
that we have seen speaks a logic of death). Although such full presence
and ideality can only annihilate, it often seductively appears to us as
arrival and safety, as it did for Maximo and Lisette (in a figure of Cuba
as lost home). Possibly, the sorrow emerges in some part from these
metaphysical vestiges that prioritize presence and truth and the value
it allegedly speaks.
What happens though, if we shift grounds and understand truth
and home differently? Or better yet, what if we embrace or lean into
groundlessness and the finitude and community that constitutes us?
According to Nancy, if we cannot even undertake this task, not only do
we lose our ownmost death, but we do not even manage to constitute
a world.24
Conclusion
Introduction
1. I have elected to use the word community rather than singular-plu-
rality in spite of the fact that the latter is Nancys preferred term in his
second and third monographs on being-with, Being Singular Plural and
The Creation of the World or Globalization. Although singular-plurality is
more precise in its departure from any connotation of communion,
community has the decided advantage of accessibility. Furthermore,
as the first of his three texts on the constitutive and radical sociality of
being, The Inoperative Community lays the theoretical groundwork for the
following texts. The two terms are, however, interchangeable.
2. See pages 2834 in Stuart Halls Cultural Studies and Its Theoretical
Legacies. Additionally, Laclau and Mouffes proposition that the real
world is simultaneously real and discursively constituted has been
central to the evolution of cultural studies discourse.
3. See Douglas Kellners Media Spectacle and the 2008 Presidential
Election and Michael D. Gardinia and Joshua I. Newmans NASCAR
and the Southernization of America.
4. Christopher Petersons Kindred Specters and Sam Durrants Postcolonial
Narrative and the Work of Mourning provocatively treat Beloved alongside a
Derridean (and Freudian in the case of the latter) perspective of mourn-
ing. However, neither text examines Derridean bearing witness or
Nancian community. Hillis Millers Boundaries in Beloved is informed
by Derridean thought. In a broader sense, Lisa Sanchez-Gonzalez
Boricua Literature is infused with post-structural sensibilities at large.
5. Critchley, Caputo, Wood, and Lawlor indicate distinct manners of think-
ing ethics and deconstruction. Critchleys work is straightforwardly
ethico-politically driven; Caputos explorations are theologically con-
textualized; Wood and Lawlor explore intersections between phenom-
enology, contemporary French philosophy, and considerations of ethics.
See Critchleys The Ethics of Deconstruction and Ethics-Politics-Subjectivity;
Caputos Against Ethics and edited volume Questioning God; Woods Ethics
and Politics after Deconstruction; and Lawlors An essay on Animality and
Human Nature in Derrida to name a few.
146 Notes
effectively; they have gone wrong. The complexity of desire and its
relationship to language and being is entirely unexamined and indeed
not even considered. Socolovsky asserts that language fails to sustain
Cuba as an ideal and instead disintegrates it not to show the impos-
sibility of the ideal but to indicate that the disintegration is a product
of ineffective language, storytelling, or art.
30. MLA International Bibliography, 2011.
31. For scholarship interested in ethical relations in a deconstructive con-
text see Travis, Beyond Empathy; Christopher Petersons 2007 mono-
graph Kindred Specters; and Sam Durrants Postcolonial Narrative and the
Work of Mourning.
and characterized by extension and care). See pages 913, 232, 2489,
and 2569 particularly. However, the prevalence of generosity does not
negate the staggering failure of the townspeople to warn Sethe that the
four horsemen were entering town. Stamp Paid reveals his belief that
it was something like meanness-that let them stand aside or not pay
attention, or tell themselves somebody else was probably bearing the
news (157).
8. For an insightful discussion of name changing in the African diaspora
see Gilroys The Black Atlantic, 203.
9. Stamp Paids close relationship with Baby Suggs (she was the moun-
tain to his sky, 170) and his encouragement of her nonprescriptive ser-
mons (she did not tell them to sin no more, 88) is indicative of this
rejection. Further, the maintenance of his Biblical engagement, despite
his eschewing of the name Joshua, is clear in the text as he aspires to be
a highminded soldier of Christ (170).
10. In addition to the presentation of the power of song, the community with-
holds it should they deem someone unworthy of its supportive effects.
Following Sethes murder of her baby and her subsequent arrest, the
crowd of onlookers deem her too proud and thus undeserving of the
comfort that song can provide. Provocatively, it is not her murder of her
baby that is beyond forgiveness and a corresponding extension of sup-
port but rather a response of invincibility and radical independence. In
this instance Sethes head is literally held too high to deserve comfort:
Outside a throng, now, of black faces stopped murmuring. Holding
the living child, Sethe walked past them in their silence and hers. She
climbed into the cart, her profile knife-clean against a cheery blue sky.
A profile that shocked them with its clarity. Was her head a bit too high?
Her back a little too straight? Probably. Otherwise the singing would
have begun at once, the moment she appeared in the doorway of the
house on Bluestone Road. Some cape of sound would have been quickly
wrapped around her, like arms to hold and steady her on the way. As it
was, they waited till the cart turned about, headed west to town. And
then no words. Humming. No words at all (152).
11. The theme of telling is likewise textually manifest strengthening a
reading that considers ethics and deconstruction. Throughout the text
there are repeated calls to tell a story. When Nan passes on to Sethe
the story of her name she emphasizes the telling through repetition:
Telling you. I am telling you, small girl Sethe (62). Amy Denver is
similarly concerned insofar as the worries that Sethes daughter will
not know that it was she who brought her into the world: You gonna
tell her? Who brought her into these here world? . . . You better tell her,
you hear? (85). Further, the various first person accounts of Beloveds
arrival directly thematize the interpretive rather than reflective com-
ponent of the telling (20017). Last, as Christopher Peterson astutely
notes, Sethe cannot directly access the recalled experience of murder-
ing her baby daughter and only once attempts to do so with Paul D.
Notes 155
She circles around it with an acute understanding that she can neither
arrive at nor articulate her precise motivations. An interruption of
cohesive narrative is fully evident, see Peterson 1997, 80.
12. The fact that Beloveds proper name is never revealed underscores the
impossibility of fully reaching being/Beloved and telling her story rep-
resentationally or in absolute fashion. Such is the impossibility of bear-
ing witness and in some sense what is ultimately at stake in the text.
13. See pages 11617. Additionally, Beloveds very being as a ghost is a
literalization of an absent presence.
14. The closing pages of Ellisons Invisible Man poignantly speaks the inevi-
tability of textuality and an imperative to tell as the following quote
indicates: So why do I write, torturing myself to put it down? . . . Why
should I be the one to dream this nightmare? Why should I be dedicated
and set aside yes, if not to at least tell a few people about it? There seems
to be no escape. Here Ive set out to throw my anger into the worlds face,
but now that Ive tried to put it all down the old fascination with playing
a role returns, and Im drawn upward again. So that even before I finish
Ive failed . . . (579).
15. See Woods The Step Back, 12.
Conclusion
1. See Rams: Uninterrupted Dialogue-Between Two Infi nities, the Poem
in Sovereignties in Question.
2. Simon Critchley provides an instructive discussion of Gilroys The Black
Atlantic in Ethics, Politics, Subjectivity. Although not within the realm
of deconstructive ethics per se, Barbara Johnson approaches Hurstons
Their Eyes Were Watching God and Morrisons Sula from a poststructural
perspective.
3. We also must acknowledge the fact that we simply cannot read every-
thing and scholars must certainly be permitted their proclivities for
particular texts and authors. However, such proclivities not withstand-
ing, the lack of attention to ethnic American texts appear sufficiently
significant to merit attention. Also worth noting are the numerous lead-
ing scholars in postcolonial studies that are rectifying these oversights
within that sphere. Obviously deconstructive analysis plays a central
role in postcolonial thought; however, close examinations of deconstruc-
tion and ethics are distinct from postcolonial theory and it is in the realm
of the former that we see the pronounced absence of non-European
texts. Last, US American critics do engage French feminist theory rela-
tively frequently and thus an invocation of Derridean deconstruction is
implicit; however, again, feminist theory is distinct from (albeit related
to) a consideration of ethics alongside deconstruction.
4. Doris Sommers cogent analysis within Bilingual Aesthetics provides an
excellent discussion of the aesthetics of bilingualism and the various
interruptions it offers.
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Index