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The Impossible, by Georges Bataille
Free Ebook The Impossible, by Georges Bataille
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In a philosophical erotic narrative, an essay on poetry, and in poems Georges Bataille pursues his guiding concept, the impossible. The narrator engages in a journey, one reminiscent of the Grail quest; failing, he experiences truth. He describes a movement toward a disappearing object, the same elusive object that moved Theresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena to ecstasy.
- Sales Rank: #1073560 in Books
- Brand: Brand: City Lights Publishers
- Published on: 2001-01-01
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.00" h x .50" w x 5.50" l, .50 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 188 pages
- Used Book in Good Condition
Language Notes
Text: English (translation)
Original Language: French
About the Author
Georges Bataille (1897-1962) was a French writer, essayist, and philosopher whose works include "The Story of the Eye", "The Blue of Noon", "The Accursed Share", and "Theory of Religion".
Most helpful customer reviews
12 of 14 people found the following review helpful.
The new Ulysses
By Soren
I believe that one day people will come back to this book and consider it to be as ground breaking for the novel as Ulysses was.
It is simply amazing.
There were parts that were so haunting and that drew me to such deep unconscious wells that I felt like screaming at the book with all my strength, eating it, and then crawling under my bed chuckling madly.
I have seen Her. I have seen Him. And it has all happenned over and over again across the ages.
If the future is capable of writing more gems like this, then we have something to look forward to after all.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
A VERY DIVERSE BOOK BY THE FRENCH WRITER
By Steven H Propp
Georges Albert Maurice Victor Bataille (1897–1962) was a French philosopher, novelist, and literary critic (and a librarian by profession); he wrote many books, including The Accursed Share: an Essay on General Economy, Vol. 1: Consumption, The Accursed Share, Vols. 2 and 3: The History of Eroticism and Sovereignty, On Nietzsche, Visions Of Excess: Selected Writings, 1927-1939, The Tears of Eros, etc.
He wrote in the Preface to the second edition of this 1947 book, “Like the fictional narratives of novels, the texts that follow---the first two at any rate---are offered with the intention of depicting the truth. Not that I’m led to believe they have a convincing quality. I didn’t wish to deceive. Moreover there is not any novel in principle. And I couldn’t imagine doing that in my turn better than anyone else. Indeed I think in a sense my narratives clearly attain the IMPOSSIBLE. To be honest, these evocations have a painful heaviness about them. This heaviness may be tied to the fact that that at times horror had a real presence in my life. It may be too that, even when reduced to fiction, horror alone still enabled me to escape the empty feeling of untruth… I first published this book fifteen years ago, giving it an obscure title: ‘The Hatred of Poetry.’ It seemed to me that true poetry was reached only by hatred. Poetry had no powerful meaning except in the violence of revolt. But poetry attains this violence only by invoking the IMPOSSIBLE. Almost no one understood the meaning of the first title, which is why I prefer finally to speak of ‘The Impossible.’ It’s true that this second title is far from being clearer.”
He says, “…if now I think---at this most far away moment of a breakdown, a physical and moral disgust---of the pink tail of a rat in the snow, it seems to share in the intimacy of ‘that which is’; a slight uneasiness clutches my heart. And certainly I know that the immediacy of M., who is dead, was like the tail of a rat, lovely as the tail of a rat! I knew already that the intimacy of things is death… and naturally, NAKEDNESS IS DEATH---and the more truly ‘death’ the lovelier it is!” (Pg. 54)
He observes, “What unimaginable force would my lamentations have had if there were a God? ‘Think about it though. Nothing can escape you now. If God doesn’t exist, this moan, choked back in your solitude, is the extreme limit of the possible: in this sense there is no element of the universe that is not under its power! It is not subject to anything, it dominates everything and yet is formed out of an infinite awareness of impotence: out of a sense of the impossible to be exact!’” (Pg. 78-79)
He states, “I know, I only have to give way to the imperceptible slide of trickery: a slight change and I put an eternal stop to what chilled me: I tremble before God, I raise the desire to tremble to infinity! If human reason (the human limit) is exceeded by the very object to which the limit is given, if E.’s reason succumbs, I can only harmonize with the excess that will destroy me in my turn. But the excess that burns me is the harmony of love within me and I don’t tremble before God, but with love.” (Pg. 100)
He suggests, “It’s funny we’re so unconcerned about this quagmire of sleep. We forget it and don’t see that our unconcern gives our ‘lucid’ airs a mendacious quality. Just now, the slaughterhouse animality of my recent dreams (everything around me disturbed, but delivered over to appeasement) awakens me to the feeling of death’s ‘violation.’ In my view nothing is more precious than the exuberance of rust; nor than a certainty in the sunshine of barely escaping the mildew of the earth. The truth of life cannot be separated from its opposite and if we flee the smell of death, ‘the disorder of the senses’ brings us back to the happiness that is connected with it.” (Pg. 115-116)
This book will be of interest to those studying Bataille.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
A VERY DIVERSE BOOK BY THE FRENCH WRITER
By Steven H Propp
Georges Albert Maurice Victor Bataille (1897–1962) was a French philosopher, novelist, and literary critic (and a librarian by profession); he wrote many books, including The Accursed Share: an Essay on General Economy, Vol. 1: Consumption, The Accursed Share, Vols. 2 and 3: The History of Eroticism and Sovereignty, On Nietzsche, Visions Of Excess: Selected Writings, 1927-1939, The Tears of Eros, etc.
He wrote in the Preface to the second edition of this 1947 book, “Like the fictional narratives of novels, the texts that follow---the first two at any rate---are offered with the intention of depicting the truth. Not that I’m led to believe they have a convincing quality. I didn’t wish to deceive. Moreover there is not any novel in principle. And I couldn’t imagine doing that in my turn better than anyone else. Indeed I think in a sense my narratives clearly attain the IMPOSSIBLE. To be honest, these evocations have a painful heaviness about them. This heaviness may be tied to the fact that that at times horror had a real presence in my life. It may be too that, even when reduced to fiction, horror alone still enabled me to escape the empty feeling of untruth… I first published this book fifteen years ago, giving it an obscure title: ‘The Hatred of Poetry.’ It seemed to me that true poetry was reached only by hatred. Poetry had no powerful meaning except in the violence of revolt. But poetry attains this violence only by invoking the IMPOSSIBLE. Almost no one understood the meaning of the first title, which is why I prefer finally to speak of ‘The Impossible.’ It’s true that this second title is far from being clearer.”
He says, “…if now I think---at this most far away moment of a breakdown, a physical and moral disgust---of the pink tail of a rat in the snow, it seems to share in the intimacy of ‘that which is’; a slight uneasiness clutches my heart. And certainly I know that the immediacy of M., who is dead, was like the tail of a rat, lovely as the tail of a rat! I knew already that the intimacy of things is death… and naturally, NAKEDNESS IS DEATH---and the more truly ‘death’ the lovelier it is!” (Pg. 54)
He observes, “What unimaginable force would my lamentations have had if there were a God? ‘Think about it though. Nothing can escape you now. If God doesn’t exist, this moan, choked back in your solitude, is the extreme limit of the possible: in this sense there is no element of the universe that is not under its power! It is not subject to anything, it dominates everything and yet is formed out of an infinite awareness of impotence: out of a sense of the impossible to be exact!’” (Pg. 78-79)
He states, “I know, I only have to give way to the imperceptible slide of trickery: a slight change and I put an eternal stop to what chilled me: I tremble before God, I raise the desire to tremble to infinity! If human reason (the human limit) is exceeded by the very object to which the limit is given, if E.’s reason succumbs, I can only harmonize with the excess that will destroy me in my turn. But the excess that burns me is the harmony of love within me and I don’t tremble before God, but with love.” (Pg. 100)
He suggests, “It’s funny we’re so unconcerned about this quagmire of sleep. We forget it and don’t see that our unconcern gives our ‘lucid’ airs a mendacious quality. Just now, the slaughterhouse animality of my recent dreams (everything around me disturbed, but delivered over to appeasement) awakens me to the feeling of death’s ‘violation.’ In my view nothing is more precious than the exuberance of rust; nor than a certainty in the sunshine of barely escaping the mildew of the earth. The truth of life cannot be separated from its opposite and if we flee the smell of death, ‘the disorder of the senses’ brings us back to the happiness that is connected with it.” (Pg. 115-116)
This book will be of interest to those studying Bataille.
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