Speculative Gestures
Comedies of Errors and Manners
Hell is other people. — For to live amongst others is to be judged and found wanting. For how could I be represented otherwise than a wanting, a lacking, a nothing? To be represented otherwise is to be misrepresented, misjudged. So, let me be more precise: to live amongst others is either to be misjudged or to be judged and found wanting. — Hell is other people.
Sartre teaches me that life amongst others, life in hell, is a comedy of errors and manners; he teaches me to laugh at my predicament.
A Comedy of Errors. — Errors of mistaken identity inevitably arise from the fact that others identify me with the various disguises I put on. Like when a monarch, god, or angel disguises themself as a beggar, the joke is never on the noble being disguised as a base sort of being, but on those who fall for the disguise.
A Comedy of Manners. — Faux pas inevitably arise from the fact that I cannot help but wear my disguises poorly. When a monarch, god, or angel disguises themself as a beggar, they struggle to maintain the mannerisms proper to beggars because they cannot help being otherwise than what they are pretending to be. The queen disguised as a beggar will “break character” so to speak when the queen maintains her noble bearing, posture, and manner of speech while rebuffing the sexual advances of another beggar—the lecherous beggar will laugh at the queen for “pretending to be a lady”, but all who know otherwise will laugh at the lecherous beggar who is incapable of recognizing nobility when it literally strikes him in the face.
Unlike the queen disguised as a beggar, however, I can be represented as nothing otherwise than what I am taken for. My poorly worn disguises betray nothing but the fact that I am wanting, lacking. That being said, Sartre assures me that, like the queen is proud of the fact that she cannot help but represent nobility, I should be proud of the fact that I cannot help but represent nothing. Sartre inspires me to be rueful about everything that I have been taken to (mis)represent and smug about nothing.
Alas, Sartre also teaches me that life, tragically, is entirely a matter of representation.
No exit. — I am fated to betray nothing in one of two ways. Here and now, I bid others to misrepresent and misjudge me, deploying the stratagems of love and their kin, the stratagems of language, masochism. Then and there, I bid others to judge me and find me wanting, deploying the stratagems of desire and their kin, the stratagems of indifference, hate, sadism. Whichever way, it is my choice. So, let me be more precise: I am fated to choose a manner in which to betray nothing. — No exit.
To deny that I have choices in matters of representation, choices in life—this, Sartre teaches me, is bad faith.
Speaking in bad faith, whether I am misjudged or judged and found wanting, I say to my judges, “I am what I am, and I’ve got no choice in the matter. You should feel guilty for expecting otherwise from me. Oh, pity me or put me out of my misery!”
Speaking freely, I say to my judges, “I have made my choice, for better or for worse, and I shall be judged for it, but I care for neither your guilt nor your pity.”
Sartre teaches me to live authentically, to live in a manner that involves speaking freely. It doesn’t matter whether I choose the stratagems of love, the stratagems of desire, or any of their respective kin, all that matters is that the stratagems that I choose involve speaking freely over and against speaking in bad faith. For instance, I choose to live authentically when I choose a stratagem of love which involves saying, “Let us choose love in spite of everything!” By contrast, I choose to live inauthentically when I choose a stratagem of love which involves saying, “Our love cannot be helped: we are meant for each other!”
Fatal stratagems are those that involve speaking in bad faith; vital stratagems are those that involve speaking freely. These are, of course, my terms, not Sartre’s, but Sartre teaches me to distinguish between the vital and the fatal and he inspires me to choose the vital over and against the fatal.
This for me is Sartre’s great lesson—an authentic choice is a vital betrayal of nothing.
Dances of Mirrors and Manners
Ay, but Sartre cedes too much too early when he accepts that life is entirely a matter of representation.
I cannot help but (mis)represent nothing, yes, and yet I still reflect, refract, and diffract something, don't I? To live amongst others who (mis)represent me and whom I (mis)represent—that, indeed, is to live a hellish comedy of errors and manners. However, to live amongst others who reflect, refract, and diffract something for me and for whom I reflect, refract, and diffract something—this, no doubt, is to live with grace.
Living with grace is a dance of mirrors and manners.
A (Differential) Dance of Mirrors. — We take a body of water as a mirror and we wonder at that which the water reflects. We take a body of water for a lens and we wonder at that which the body of water refracts. Turbulence flows through a body of water and we wonder at the diffraction of that which the body of water reflects and refracts. When I am graceful, I see something other than you in and through you as though you were a body of water: I never see you but, rather, I see something reflected, refracted, and refracted by you. When you are graceful, you see something other than me in and through me as though I were a body of water: you never see me but, rather, you see something other than me reflected, refracted, and diffracted by me. When one is graceful, one can be taken for nothing apart from the manner in which one reflects, refracts, and diffracts something other than oneself.
A (Deferential) Dance of Manners. — To say that one can be taken for nothing apart from the manner in which one reflects, refracts, and diffracts something other than oneself, this is also to say that one is always deferring to something other than oneself and that one can be taken for nothing apart from the manner in which one defers to something other than oneself. One is nothing apart from one’s manner of deference.
Ay, but then the next question is this: what is something “other” than oneself that one defers to? Is this other thing a fixed discretum? Is it a fluid continuum? Or is it a noise spectrum?
An example of fixed discretum: a glass cup. An example of a fluid continuum: water poured into a glass cup. There is no example of a noise spectrum but there is an example of a phenomenon that reflects a noise spectrum: brownian motion, the random motion of a fixed discretum suspended in a fluid continuum. A dust particle blown by the wind lands in your glass of water and you watch it dance. The noise spectrum is neither the dust particle, nor is it the glass of water, nor is it the fluctuating motion of the dust particle suspended in the glass of water. The fluctuating motion of the fixed discretum suspended in fluid continuum (i.e., the motion of dust particle in the water) is the reflection of the noise spectrum; the fluid continuum (i.e., the water) is the refraction of the noise spectrum; and the fixed discretum (i.e., the dust particle) is the diffraction of a noise spectrum.
Considering the example above, the fluctuating motion of a particle suspended in a cup of water, I hold that: (i) one is taken for a diffraction of a noise spectrum when one is taken for a particle, taken for a discrete being; (ii) one is taken for a refraction of a noise spectrum when one is taken for water, taken for a continuous becoming; and (iii) one is taken for a reflection of a noise spectrum when one is taken for the fluctuating motion of a particle in a suspended in water, taken for the fluctuating motion of a discrete being suspended in a continuous becoming.
Considering a different example, a cup with an overflow of water dribbling about its exterior surface, I hold that: (i) one is taken for a diffraction of a noise spectrum when one is taken for a cup, taken for a discrete being that may contain a continuous becoming; (ii) one is taken for a refraction of a noise spectrum when one is taken for water within the cup, taken for a continuous becoming that may fill and overflow a discrete being; and (iii) one is taken for a reflection of a noise spectrum when one is taken for the dribbling motion of an overflow of water on the outside of a cup, taken for a dribbling flux of continuous becoming coursing about, rather than within, a discrete being.
One can diffract a noise spectrum on one’s own by resolving oneself, by taking oneself for a fixed discretum. One can refract a noise spectrum on one’s own by dissolving oneself, by taking oneself for a flux in a fluid continuum. However, one cannot reflect a noise spectrum on one’s own. A reflection of a noise spectrum always involves the interplay of at least two individuals, one individual who is resolved, taken for a fixed discretum (a diffraction of a noise spectrum), and another individual who is dissolved, taken for a flux of a fluid continuum (a refraction of a noise spectrum). No one can reflect a noise spectrum on their own, without another.
There are four different ways in which two individuals, like you and I, may reflect a noise spectrum.
Take me for a fixed discretum (a diffraction of a noise spectrum) suspended in your fluid continuum (a refraction of a noise spectrum), and the way that we interact (the way that you make me move) is the reflection of a noise spectrum.
Take yourself for a flux in a fluid continuum (a refraction of a noise spectrum) overflowing dribbling about my fixed discretum (a diffraction of a noise spectrum), and the way that we interact (the way that you overflow and dribble and course about me) is the reflection of a noise spectrum.
Take me for a flux in a fluid continuum (a refraction of a noise spectrum) dribbling about your fixed discretum (a diffraction of a noise spectrum), and the way that we interact (the way that I overflow and dribble and course about you) is the reflection of a noise spectrum.
Take yourself for a fixed discretum (a diffraction of a noise spectrum) suspended in my fluid continuum (a refraction of a noise spectrum), and the way that we interact (the way that I make you move) is the reflection of a noise spectrum.
Dances of mirrors and manners are plays of relative dissolutions and resolutions aiming to generate reflections of noise spectrums. If you resolve yourself relative to me so as to become a diffraction and I dissolve myself relative to you so as to become a refraction, then our interaction is reflective: you refer to me, I refer to you, and together we defer to a noise spectrum. By contrast, if you and I completely resolve ourselves against one another or, alternatively, if you and I both completely dissolve ourselves into one another, then our interaction is unreflective: you and I do likewise, we defer to one another instead of referring to one another and we do not deferring to a noise spectrum.
A Speculative Gesture. — I wager that you will resolve yourself and, hoping to reflect a noise spectrum, I dissolve myself in anticipation of your resolve: this is what I call a “speculative gesture”. If I am fortunate and you do, indeed, resolve yourself, then the results of my speculative gesture will reflect a noise spectrum. If I am unfortunate and you dissolve yourself, then the results of my speculative gesture will not reflect a noise spectrum. If my speculative gesture is fortunate and our interaction does reflect a noise spectrum, then everything about my fortunate gesture will appear to have been random, a matter of luck. By contrast, if my speculative gesture is unfortunate and our interaction does not reflect a noise spectrum, everything about my unfortunate gesture will appear to have assured that my gesture would come to naught.
Sarte took speculative gestures with unfortunate outcomes for granted, for it is an unfortunate speculative gesture that betrays nothing, that reflects nothing, that comes to naught. Thus, Sartre teaches us ways to cope with unfortunate speculative gestures but doesn’t teach us ways to revel in fortunate speculative gestures, in those gestures that reflect a noise spectrum and betray our luck. More profoundly still, Sartre doesn’t teach us to ways to make speculative gestures.
To devise ways to cope with unfortunate speculative gestures is to devise comedies of errors and manners — plays of absolution. To devise ways to make speculative gestures is to devise dances of mirrors and manners — plays of relative resolution and dissolution. We need comedies of errors and manners insofar as we make speculative gestures that have unfortunate outcomes, yes, but we need dances of mirrors and manners insofar as we make speculative gestures at all.