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INTERVIEWWITHCLAUDEOLLIER
'4%fo' Jean-MaxTixier
Jean-Max Tixier: At the Cerisy colloquium devoted to the New Novel in 1971, you
began your presentation with a precise reference to the work of Roman Jakobson.
In another connection, we note that your varied written essays give evidence of a
similar attention to the most current linguistic research. Under these conditions,
it is legitimate to ask if you do in fact establish a privilegedrelation between such
research and literary production; would you elaborate upon that relation, in other
words, upon the particularmannerin which one derivessupport or seeks a confirma-
tion from the other?
Claude Oilier: I must confess that there was a certain measureof playfulnessin the
composition of the essay I read at Cerisy. Having agreedto take part in that collo-
quium, I felt bound to produce something with a semblanceof coherence. My theo-
retical inclinations have always been fairly pronounced, and I've read a greatnumber
of theoretical works: on music, film, literature, sociology, etc. The annoyanceis that
I still do not have sufficient command of any of these disciplinesto truly undertake
a theoretical venture, even a fragmentaryone. For the colloquium in question, I
therefore had a choice between an openly subjective,impressionisticpresentationor a
kind of theoretical overbid whose very excesses would provoke its demystification. I
opted for the latter solution, reinforcingat will a certain theoretical penchant in my
reflections which was soon off-set by a looser "evolutionist"overview, the irony of
which adequatelycompensated,in my opinion, for the outrageouslydeliberaterigorof
the first part. I found writing that text particularlydiverting.It nonetheless remains
true that the parallel established in the first part between linguistic functions and
fictional functions correspondsto something specific: this has been extremely useful
to my understandingthe mechanismsinvolved in the construction of my books, and
remains perfectly valid on that level. Yet, admitting this, it would be impracticable
to confine the paths of writingto the purviewof an analysiselaboratedfor speech and
discourse. If writing encompassesthe latter, it constitutes a vaster and more compre-
hensive universe. This is why, in two subsequent "theoretical" texts, I investigated
other approaches to this universe: in "Les Inscriptions Conflictuelles" (already
outlined in the text for the colloquium), and in "Pulsion,"written for the issue of
L 'Arc dedicated to Jacques Derrida. The relation established between linguistic
researchand fictional invention in the Cerisypaperis thereforenot a privilegedone; it
has its importance, and permitted, for example, my clarifyingthe opposition between
fable and fiction, but I was personallyled to correct it later, in the texts that I have
just mentioned, by outlining other relations. In fact, communicationis absolutelynot
a primordialgiven for me in the desire to write; it has its role beyond a certainstage,
but does not cover-far from it-the entire field claimedby the scripturaldrive.
J.-M. T.: On the one hand, the extreme precision|of your texts' structurationand its
integrationinto an erudite organization,on the otlier, the use of scientificjargon,pri-
marilymathematicalor physical,in its derivedor specific sense and the importantrole
which it seems to play in the productionand reinforcementof the text translateyour
interest in precise sciences and sciences of matter. The latter seems to correspondless
to a predisposition, a personal taste, than to necessities imposed by the work you
pursue.And, in our eyes, this is an importantpoint.
C. 0.: Havingreceived no formal scientific training,I have had to live with a certain
desire or nostalgiain their connection. Whichever,has little bearingon your question.
The importantaspectswould be the following -in two parts:
1) As far back as I can recall, a taste for precision and its corollary, a horror
of negligence. Nine-tenths of what is published sins through confusion, animated
carelessness,vague eclecticism. Precisionmeans exactitude and concision. Exactitude
of what? Of poetic and metric relations, of assonances, rhythmic superimpositions,
points of rupture. . . Musical systems have always interested me tremendously, as
much or more than narrativesystems. I dreamt of being a musician; I wrote only
much later. Music is doubtless the source of my passion for minutia, construction,
the play of timbres and relations of duration. I thought for a time about writing my
paper for this colloquium in terms of musical theory and practice, but I would have
had less fun than with one in terms of linguistics.As for mathematics,they have often
attracted and quickly discouragedme: something on the side of logic doesn't work
well with me.
2) In a second regard,little by little, a fundamentalgiven so to speakinscribed
itself before my eyes as I tried to write: the primacyof combinationsand transforma-
tions of the material(linguistic, rhetorical,narrative).This took place by long stages,
one importance of which was the intimation, increasinglylegitimized by the daily
practice of writing, of a certain number of accepted notions which initially formed,
though unexamined, the ideological landscape of this work: expression, message,
representation,center, Man, communication,finality, origin, etc. The harmony of the
landscape became tarnished,the letters of the signs lost their luster, the clumsy emer-
gence of the texts drew attention to the very soil from which they sprang:the ready-
made formulas, the syntactic articulations, the fables, the tales weaving the uncon-
scious with trajectoriesdesignatingthe social domain and its culturalsectors.
Granted, this applies to the use of certain scientific words in my books, as
well as to the use of any lexicon: the word is there for its specializedmeaning,for its
general meaning, for its sonorities, its volume, its "weight," and especially to the
extent that it can open up meaningthroughexpansion, deception or riddle.
J.-M. T.: The result is an adult literature,which is no longer one of simple distraction
or affective solicitation, which, guided by the specificity of its matter and its own
logic, has definitively ruptured the mystique and its fraudulence. It is this
literature, no longer mere "literature,"which correspondsto a contemporaryspirit
which we might define as a concessionless, relativistic,scientific materialism,increas-
ingly oriented towards abstraction.With man, the substantivehas died; the relation
remains. The extreme rigor of this unprecedentedsituation in literature is enough to
disorient the "generalpublic"-even though authors, such as Valery,have been paving
its way since the beginningof the century. Is this sufficient to explain the difficulties
facingthe so-called"avant-garde"writerstoday?
J.-M. T.: Throughthe generalaptitudes which it calls upon and the processesit puts
into play, an undertakingsuch as yours is assured,to the highest degree,of performing
a disalienating(desalienante) function: it defuses ideological traps. In this sense, it
is profoundly revolutionary-and not superficially, as in the case of so-called
"engaged"literature. This observationleads us quite naturallyto examine the place
of the writer in contemporarysociety, which comes down to talking of his political
role.