Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Paul de Man
rlllral
762
Paul dr 'Man
Hrg~l'5Aesthetics
Paul de Man, Sterling Professor of' the Humanities at Yale University, is the author of Blin(in~ss(inn Insight and Allegorirs oj'Rending and is
currently completing a book tentatively titled The Resistanre to Tlleorj. His
previous contributions to Critical Inquiry are "Political Allegory in Rousseau" (Summer 1976), "The Epistemology of Metaphor" (Autumn
1978), and "A 1,etter" (Spring 1982).
Crlticnl Inquirj
Summer 1982
763
764
he gel'^ Aesthetics
the sign], since art itself consists precisely in the connection, the affinity
and the concrete interpretation of meaning and of form."l Aesthetic
theory and art history are thus the two complementary parts of a single
s)imbolon. Whoever dares, today more than ever, to challenge this article
of faith in any of its numerous guises should not expect to get away with
it unscathed.
Hegel's Aesthetics thus appears to be, traditionally enough, a theory
of symbolic form. Yet a disturbing element of personal inadequacy in
Hegel himself seems to prevent the tradition of the Aesthetics' interpretation from resting content in this assurance. For one thing, next to the
familiar-sounding assertion, which we think we easily enough understand, that art partakes of the beautiful and is therefore a sensory manifestion of the idea, stands, in the same text, Hegel's more disturbing
statement that art is, irrevocably, for us a thing of the past. Would this
then mean that the sensory manifestation of the idea is no longer accessible to us in this form, that we are no longer able to produce truly
symbolic forms of art? And is it not something of an irony of literary
history and a concrete disavowal of Hegel that he declared art to have
ended at the very moment that a new modernity was about to discover
and to refine the power of the symbol beyond anything that Hegel's
somewhat philistine taste could ever have imagined? It must have been a
poor symbolist indeed who thus declared nineteenth-century Romanticism and symbolism stillborn when it was about to write a new chapter in
a history which he proclaimed to be over.
The contemporary interpretation of the Aest/leti~s,even when it
emanates from writers favorably inclined toward Hegel such as Hans
Georg Gadamer, for instance, or Theodor W. Adorno, keeps encountering this difficulty and finds Hegel useless for the understanding of
post-Hegelian art and literature. His theory of art as symbol may have
prefigured some of what was to come, but his lack of sympathy for his
own contemporaries makes him shortsighted and inadequate for the
all-important task of our own self-definition, of understanding our own
modernity. The attitude is well exemplified in the statement of an astute
and sensitive interpreter of nineteenth-century literature who certainly
cannot be reproached for an overhasty dismissal of Hegel. In a volume
entitled Poetics ant1 Philosophy ofHistorj, Peter Szondi (who until his untimely death directed the seminar for comparative literature at the Free
University of Berlin) describes the feeling one cannot help but share
upon coming to the section in the Aesthetics ~vhereHegel discusses the
1. (:. \V. F. Hegel, Clirrkr rn ziilanzig Hundrn (Frankfurt aln Main, 1979). ~ o l .13,
Cror1/~\r~ngt~n
uht'r rlir .Jr,thr,t~kI , p. 395: all further references to this volume. a b b r e ~
iated Ars.
and to \ 01s. 8 and I O (Enzyklopiirfrr rfrr /~hrloropl~ir(/ir~~
It'i\s,,nsrho/tm. 1 <indI l l ) , a b b r e ~
iated
Er1: I ot- I l l , \ \ i l l br included in the text; mv translation,.
Critrcal I n q u i ~
Summpr 1982
765
766
Paul de Man
HegpI)~Aesthetics
saying something more complex about the symbol and about language
than what we recognize in him as so familiar to us, but that part of what
he has to say is something that we cannot or will not hear because it
upsets what we take for granted, the unassailable value of the aesthetic?
The answer to this question takes us on a circuitous route, first away
from and then back to the Aesthetics, a route on which I only have time to
point out some stations in an itinerary that is not, I am afraid, an entirely
easy walk.
Hegel's assertion that art belongs unreservedly to the order of the
symbolic is made in the context of a distinction between symbol and sign
that in the realm of art does not seem to apply. A great deal hinges on
this distinction which recurs, though not very conspicuously, throughout
the Hegelian corpus, most explicitly in a paragraph of the earlier Encyclopetlia of the Philosophical Sciences of 1817 (the Aesthetics is from 1830). It
occurs in a section where Hegel is concerned with the distinctions between the faculties of the intellect, more specifically, the distinction
betrveen perceiving, imagining (or representing), and thinking
(Anschnuung, Vorstellung, and Denken); the discussion of language is a
subsection of the discussion of representation. Here Hegel offers a
characterization of the sign which stresses the arbitrariness of the relationship between the sensory component necessarily involved in any
signification and the intended meaning. T h e red, white, and green flag
of Italy bears no actual relationship to the color of the country which, as
seen from the air, is predominantly ochre in color; only very naive children are supposed to be cute enough to be amazed that Italy actually
does not have the same uniform color it has in their atlas. The symmetrical obverse of this observation is that of Roland Barthes reflecting on the
naturalization of the signified in his analysis of an advertisement for
spaghetti, in which the white pasta, the red tomatoes, and the green
peppers are so irresistibly effective because they convey, at least to the
non-Italian, the illusion of devouring, of interiorizing the very essence of
ita1ianitl.-and very cheaply at that. As such, in its arbitrariness, the sign,
says Hegel,
differs from the symbol, a perception whose own determination [or
meaning] more or less corresponds, essentially and conceptually, to
the content it expresses as a symbol, whereas, in the case of the sign,
the proper content of the perception [the red, white, and green of
the flag] and the content of which it is a sign [Italy] have nothing to
do with each other [Enz. 111, p. 270, par. 4581.
There is nothing unusual about this characterization of the sign
since the stress on its arbitrariness has numberless antecedents well before Ferdinand de Saussure. Somewhat less common are the value
judgments Hegel derives from his analysis; although it would not be
Critical Inquiry
Summer 1982
767
correct to say that Hegel valorizes the sign over the symbol, the reverse
would be even less true. "Das Zeichen," says Hegel, "muss fiir etwas
Grosses erklart werden [the sign must be proclaimed to be something
great]." What is it then that is so "great" about the sign? T o the extent
that the sign is entirely independent with regard to the objective, natural
properties of the entity toward which it points and instead posits properties by means of its own powers, the sign illustrates the capacity of the
intellect to "use" the perceived world for its own purposes, to efface
(tzlgen) its properties and to put others in their stead. This activity of the
intellect is both a freedom, since it is arbitrary, and a coercion, since it
does violence, as it were, to the world. The sign does not actz~allysay what
it means to say or, to drop the misleading anthropomorphic metaphor of
a speaking sign endowed with a voice, the predication involved in a sign is
always citational. When I say, "The red, white, and green flag is Italian,"
this predicative sentence is always what in scholastic terminology is called
an actz~ssignatus: it presupposes an implicit subject (or I) which frames
the statement and makes it into a quotation: I say (or I declare, or I
proclaim) that the red, white, and green flag is Italian-a specification
which does not have to occur when, in ordinary conversation, I say, "The
city of Rome and the Apennines are Italian." The sign is so "great," so
crucially important, because it touches upon the question of the relationship between subject and predicate in any declarative sentence. From the
question of the sign we are taken, then, by the logic of the passage itself,
to the question of the subject-a topic on which Hegel has a great deal to
say, perhaps most strikingly of all in a much earlier section of the Encyclopedza.
Paragraph 20 of the Encyclopedza has to do with the definition of
thinking or with the conditions necessary for a science of logic. It states
Hegel's equivalence of the Cartesian cogito by establishing the link between the general predicates of thought and the thinking subject. In
order to understand thought, to think about thought, thought has to be
represented, and this representation can only be that of the thinking
subject: "the simple expression of the existing subject as thinking subject
is I," says Hegel in a passage rich in Fichtean resonances. But this relatively straightforward and traditional, Cartesian, if you wish, or, at any
rate, specular conception of the subject leads at once to less predictable
complications. The thinking subject is to be kept sharply distinguished
from the perceiving subject, in a manner that is reminiscent of (or that
anticipates) the distinction we have just encountered in the differentiation between sign and symbol. Just as the sign refuses to be in the
service of sensory perceptions but uses them instead for its own purposes, thought, unlike perception, appropriates the world and literally
"subjects" it to its own powers. More specifically, thought subsumes the
infinite singularity and individuation of the perceived world under ordering principles that lay claim to generality. The agent of this appro-
768
Paul de Man
Hegel's Aesthetics
Critical Inqz~iy
Summer 1982
769
770
Paul de Man
Hegel's Aesthetics
Critical Inquiry
Summer 19672
771
772
Paul de Man
Hegel's Aesthetics
mind which he calls Gedachtnis and which "in ordinary [as opposed to
philosophical] discourse is often conf~isedwith recollection [Em'nnerung]
as well as with representation and imaginationH-just as sign and symbol
are often used interchangeably in such modes of ordinary parlance as
literary commentary o r literary criticism (Enz. 111, p. 271, par. 458).
Gedachtnis, of course, means memory in the sense that one says of someone that he has a good memory but not that he has a good remembrance
o r a good recollection. One says, in German, "sie o r e r hat ein gutes
Gedachtnis," and not, in that same sense, "eine gute Erinnerung." T h e
French mdmoire, as in Henri Bergson's title Matibre et Mtmoire, is more
ambivalent, but a similar distinction occurs between mtmoire and souzjenir;
un ban souvenir is not the same asune bonne mtmoire. (Proust struggles with
the distinction in his attempts to distinguish between mdmoire
volontaire-\vhich is like Gedachtnis-and mdmoire involontaire, \vhich is
rather like Erinnerung.) T h e surprise, in Hegel, is that the progression
from perception to thought depends crucially on the mental faculty of
memorization. It is Gedachtnis, as a subspecies of representation, \vhich
makes the transition to the highest capacity of the thinking intellect: the
echo of denken preserved in the rvord "G~dachtnis" suggests the close
proximity of thought to the capacity of remembering by memorization.
In order to understand thought, we must first understand memory, but,
says Hegel, "to understand the place and the meaning of memory in the
systematic study of the intellect and in its organic connection with
thought is one of the most readily ignored and most difficult points in
the study of the mind" (Enz. 111, p. 283, par. 464). Memorization has to
be sharply distinguished from recollection and from imagination. It is
entirely devoid of images (bildlos), and Hegel speaks derisively of pedagogical attempts to teach children how to read and write by having them
associate pictures \vith specific words. But it is not devoid of materiality
altogether. We can learn by heart only when all meaning is forgotten and
words read as if they were a mere list of names. "It is well kno~vn,"says
Hegel, "that one knows a text by heart [or by rote] only rvhen rve no
longer associate any meaning \vith the \vords; in reciting rvhat one thus
knot\ s by heart one necessarily drops all accentuation."
We are far removed, in this section of the Encyclopedia on memory,
from the mnemotechnic icons described by Frances Yates in The Art oJ
M~moryand much closer to Augustine's advice about ho\v to remember
and to psalmodize Scripture. Memory, for Hegel, is the learning by rote
of namps, or of words considered as names, and it can therefore not be
separated from the notation, the inscription, o r the \vriting down of
these names. In order to remember, one is forced to write down \vhat
one is likely to forget. T h e idea, in other rvords, makes its sensory appearance, in Hegel, as the material inscription of names. Thought is
entirely dependent on a mental faculty that is mechanical through and
through, as remote as can be from the sounds and the images of the
Critical Inquiry
Summer 1982
773
imagination o r from the dark mine of recollection, which lies beyond the
reach of words and of thought.
The synthesis between name and meaning that characterizes memory is an "empty link [das leere Band]" and thus entirely unlike the mutual
complementarity and interpenetration of form and content that
characterizes symbolic art (Enz. III, p. 28 1 , par. 463). It is not aesthetic in
the ordinary or in the classically Hegelian sense of the word. However,
since the synthesis of memory is the only activity of the intellect to occur
as sensory manifestation of an idea, memory is a truth of which the
aesthetic is the defensive, ideological, and censored translation. In order
to have memory one has to be able to forget remembrance and reach the
machinelike exteriority, the outrvard turn, which is retained in the German word for learning by heart, aus-mendzg lernen. "It is in names that we
think," says Hegel (Enz. III, p. 278, par. 462); names, however, are the
hieroglyphic, silent inscriptions in which the relationship between what
one perceives and what one understands, between the written letter and
the meaning, is only exterior and superficial. "Visible, written language,"
says Hegel, "relates to voice, to sounded language, only as a sign" (Enz.
III, p. 277, par. 459). In memorization, in thought and, by extension, in
the sensory manifestation of thought as an "art" of writing, "we are
dealing only with signs [wir haben es uberhaupt nur mit Zeichen zu
tun]." Memory effaces remembrance (or recollection) just as the I effaces
itself. The faculty that enables thought to exist also makes its preservation impossible. The art, the technb, of writing which cannot be separated
from thought and from memorization can only be preserved in the
figural mode of the symbol, the very mode it has to do away with if it is to
occur at all.
No wonder, then, that Hegel's Aesthetzcs turns out to be a double and
possibly duplicitous text. Dedicated to the preservation and the
monumentalization of classical art, it also contains all the elements which
make such a preservation impossible from the start. Theoretical reasons
prevent the convergence of the apparently historical and the properly
theoretical components of the work. This results in the enigmatic statements that have troubled Hegel's readers, such as the assertion that art is
for us a thing of the past. This has usually been interpreted and
criticized or, in some rare instances, praised as a historical diagnosis
disproven or borne out by actual history. We can nob7assert that the two
statements "art is for us a thing of the past" and "the beautiful is the
sensory manifestation of the idea7'are in fact one and the same. T o the
extent that the paradigm for art is thought rather than perception, the
sign rather than the symbol, writing rather than painting or music, it will
also be memorization rather than recollection. As such, it belongs indeed
to a past which, in Proust's words, could never be recaptured, retrouv6.
Art is "of the past" in a radical sense, in that, like memorization, it leaves
the interiorization of experience forever behind. It is of the past to the
774
Paul de Man
Hegel's Aesthetics
extent that it materially inscribes, and thus forever forgets, its ideal
content. T h e reconciliation of the two main theses of the Aesthetics occurs
at the expense of the aesthetic as a stable philosophical category. What
the Aestltetics calls the beautiful turns out to be, also, something very
remote from what we associate ~viththe suggestiveness of symbolic form.
Before dismissing it as simply, o r merely, ugly, one should perhaps
bear in mind what Proust has to say in Smann's Way about symbols which,
unlike metaphors, d o not mean what they say. "Such symbols are not
represented symbolically [le symbole (n'est) pas represente comme un
symbole] since the symbolized thought is not expressed but the symbol
represented as real, as actually inflicted o r materially handled [puisque la
pensee symbolisee (n'est) pas exprimee, mais (le symbole represente)
comme re'el, comme effectivement subi ou materiellement manie]." This
symbol that is not symbolic is much like the theory of the aesthetic which,
in Hegel, is no longer aesthetic, like the subject \vhich has to say "I" but
can never say it, the sign rvhich can only survive as a symbol, a consciousness (or subconsciousness) which has to become like the machine of
mechanical memory, a representation which is in fact merely a n inscription o r a system of notation. Such signs, says Proust, may have a special
beauty, "une etrangete saissante," which will be appreciated only much
later, at a degree of aesthetic and theoretical remove so advanced as to be
alrvays "of the past" and not o u r orvn.
T h e passage in Proust from which I am quoting deals with Giotto's
allegories of the Vices and of the Virtues in the frescoes of the Arena at
Padua. If we then wonder, as we should, where it is, in Hegel's Aesth~tirs,
that the theory of the sign manifests itself materially, rve rvould have to
look for sections o r art f'orms ~vhichHegel explicitly says are not aesthetic o r beautiful. Such is the case for the brief chapter, at the end of the
section on symbolic art, on allegory. Allegory, in conforming with the
received opinion of Hegel's day which was, not unproblematically, associated with Goethe, is dismissed as barren and ugly (kahl). It belongs to
the belated, self-consciously symbolic modes (Hegel calls them "comparative") rvhich, "instead of presenting things o r meanings according to
their adequate reality, only present them as an image o r a parable" and
G(ittung~n1"(APs, p.
\vhicll are therefore "inferior genres [unt~l-g~ordn~te
488). Before allowing Hegel's dismissal to dismiss the problem, one
should remember that, in a truly dialectical system such as Hegel's, what
appears to be inferior and enslaved (untergeol-dnet) may \veil turn out to
be the master. Compared to the depth and beauty of recollection, memory appears as a mere tool, a mere slave of the intellect, just as the sign
appears shallow and mechanical compared to the aesthetic aura of the
symbol o r just as prose appears like piece~vorklabor next to the noble
craft of poetry-just as, \ve may add, neglected corners in the Hegelian
canon are perhaps masterful articulations rather than the all too visible
Critical Inquiry
Summer 1982
775