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Paul M. Cohen, Freedom's Moment: An Essay on the French Idea of
Liberty from Rousseau to Foucault. Chicago and London: University
of Chicago Press, 1997. x + 229 pp. Notes, works cited, and
index. $39.95 (cl). ISBN 0-226-11285-3.
Review by James A. Winders, Appalachian State University, for H-
France, July 1998.
The Consecrated Heretics of French Culture
Paul M. Cohen's Freedom's Moment is a gracefully written,
elegantly organized meditation on the evolution of what the author
argues is a peculiarly French intellectual role: that of the author
as "consecrated heretic", the gadfly who regularly scolds the very
society which sustains him and accords him prominence. Jean-
Jacques Rousseau, in Cohen's opinion, inaugurated this role which
the author then traces through an intellectual lineage as follows:
Robespierre as the political embodiment of Rousseau, Stendhal in
the guise of his fictional alter ego Julien Sorel in Le Rouge et
le noir, Jules Michelet as the liberal conscience of the July
Monarchy, Henri Bergson as the metaphysical inspiration for the
generation preceding the Great War, that most mercurial martyred
poet Charles Peguy, the politically very conspicuous Jean-Paul
Sartre, and finally Michel Foucault, the would-be anti-Sartre who,
despite himself, played a role similar to Sartre as social critic.
Cohen displays close familiarity with the original French texts for
each of these authors, and is able to support his carefully
constructed argument at key points with well-chosen quotations.
He begins by describing three distinct types or
models of "liberty" which have been associated in the Modern West
with more or less national traditions of political thought. The
English "school", as found in the works of John Locke, Adam Smith,
and John Stuart Mill, is that of "negative liberty", which defines
freedom as the absence of external obstacles or impediments, as in
the absence of obstacles in the path of economic gain, the essence
of the classical liberal outlook seeking to safeguard the market
economy. Hegel and others in the German idealist tradition defined
liberty as a "positive" self-mastery, wherein self-actualization is
linked necessarily to the destiny of the state. And finally, as
Cohen shows, French democratic theory has preferred a concept of
"autonomous selfhood" which comes to citizens through their
participation in the "general will".
This notion of autonomy as linked to the general
will, then, has served to establish a kind of dialectic in French
thought whereby a maverick or outlaw thinker, for all his
iconoclasm, must still defend his views through reference to some
social good for all, for example, Michelet's stance of giving voice
to le peuple through his histories, or Sartre's unpopular
advocacy, a la Voltaire, on behalf of downtrodden groups such as
Algerian immigrants. These are examples of what Cohen in his
introduction calls the French "established anti-establishment",
with Rousseau as its founder.
In his introduction, Cohen also comments on those,
most notably Pierre Bourdieu, who have sought to explain the unique
prestige enjoyed by French intellectuals. He cites Bourdieu's
analysis of the importance of the Ecole normale superieure, which
he has dubbed "the great lay seminary", and also the College de
France, whose unique role has made it a platform for prominent
intellectuals to assail the establishment from specially created
chairs which nevertheless define the pinnacle of French academic
life. Three of the great professors who take their places within
the intellectual procession around which Cohen builds his book are
vivid examples of the prophetic potential this platform affords:
Michelet, Bergson, and Foucault.
Touching briefly upon Joseph Campbell's concept of
the mythic hero--who challenges society by delivering a message
which is initially received only with uncomprehending scorn--the
author argues that the rise and fall of Stendhal's Julien Sorel
constitutes a "master fiction" on which the careers of "consecrated
heretics", in the role inaugurated by Rousseau, are so many
narrative variations. Borrowing Jean-Paul Sartre's chilling
observation "L'enfer, c'est les autres", Cohen then moves on to
examine how "other people" represent a kind of hell for the
consecrated heretic, who fears dependency on them even as he seeks
to persuade them: from Rousseau and his aristocratic benefactors to
Foucault and his abhorrence of the policing and surveillance
generated by the very academic and political discourses in which he
himself was caught up.
Next, Cohen examines in some detail the principal
kinds of social critiques delivered by his parade of heretics.
First there is the criticism of the privileged class, whether
aristocracy or bourgeoisie (e.g., Robespierre's attacks on the new
class of profiteers who opposed the "general interest" of the
people, Peguy's Bergsonian denunciation of the crass materialism of
bourgeois society, or Sartre's scorn for les salauds ("the
bastards"). Then there are varying degrees of anti-clericalism,
beginning with Rousseau's defrocked Savoyard priest. Finally, each
of Cohen's intellectual figures has offered some form of critique
of the state and its abuses.
In his penultimate chapter Cohen describes what he
calls the defining "moment of freedom" in each "heretical
narrative", whether in revolutionary political struggle as in the
lineage traceable from Rousseau through Robespierre to Michelet,
Bergson's advocacy of l'elan vital over sterile intellectual
analysis, Peguy's mystical patriotism, Sartre's engagement, or
Foucault's deliberately transgressive "limit-experiences".
Freedom's Moment reveals both the virtues and the
limitations of the "history of ideas" essay. Cohen is far from
dogmatic, and he clearly understands that an essay is never
intended to provide the last word on a subject. Instead, it is
meant to stimulate a reader's thinking, inviting further
reflection. Cohen's book will have an immediate appeal to readers
with an interest in French intellectual history, perhaps especially
to Francophilic Americans chagrined at the marginalization of
writers and intellectuals on this side of the Atlantic and envious
of the Gallic style. The book holds the reader's attention, and
certainly stirs admiration of the courageous engagement of the
intellectual heroes it profiles.
However, the particular intellectual genealogy Cohen
seeks to recount can seem contrived and even tiresome through
repetition. As the book's argument unfolds toward a surprisingly
anti-climactic conclusion, each chapter presents a concept or set
of related examples of "consecrated heresy", and then runs through
the identical chronological sequence. Why not group the
biographical examples differently, according to type? As one rough
example, maverick figures like Rousseau, Sartre, or Peguy could be
opposed to those ensconced within prominent institutions (Michelet,
Bergson, Foucault).
As the predictable sequence repeats itself, the
reader has more and more occasion to ask why these figures,
exclusively, deserve membership within this heretical fraternity.
Would not the epater le bourgeois tradition of the modernist
avant-garde, where initial outrageous provocation so often gives
way to artistic fashion and acceptance, serve as a source of
examples for the tradition of consecrated heresy? At times, such
writers as Charles Baudelaire, Arthur Rimbaud, Alfred Jarry, Andre
Gide, Tristan Tzara, Jean Cocteau, and Georges Bataille, to name
some of the most prominent examples, have played this kind of role
in French culture. What about the very celebrated and lionized
figures of Victor Hugo and Emile Zola? Even the beloved Hugo got
his start, prefiguring Jarry, by outraging the theater-going public
of 1830 with his play Hernani.
While these modernist literary figures may not fit
the mold Cohen wishes to describe as well as those he has selected,
at worst one fears he has created an overly rigid Procrustean
structure which intellectual and biographical details (and, in the
case of Stendhal, a fictional character) must be contorted to fit.
At the very least, he seems to accept uncritically the
critical/biographical legend attending each of the writers he
includes, and not to entertain alternate, against-the-grain
readings of their texts. For example, Rousseau's reputation as an
apostle of freedom must be weighed against Jacques Derrida's
examination of his logocentrism or, more significantly, Sarah
Kofman's feminist critique, emphasizing especially the gender
asymmetry of Rousseau's ethical teachings.
In his influential essay "What Is An Author?" Michel
Foucault described the seductive power of the "author-function",
the received wisdom about a celebrated author which brings readers
to certain texts with a fixed set of assumptions acting as a
filter, preventing consideration of details or inconsistencies
which fail to fit the pattern of critical orthodoxy. Foucault
urged a new emphasis which would force examination of the uses made
of certain texts as they circulate and are employed in decisive
institutional settings and discursive practices.
In keeping with this argument, a new "history of
reading" has emerged in recent years which, among other things,
puts standard readings and interpretations to the test by seeking
to discover what can be learned about responses of communities of
readers, publishing practices, book selling, and the like. Robert
Darnton's chapter on Rousseau in The Great Cat Massacre and Other
Episodes in French Cultural History (New York, 1984) is but one
very impressive example of this kind of scholarship. Attention to
such topics could serve to overcome the rather abstracted,
intellectually remote level at which much of the argument of
Freedom's Moment is carried out.
The question here is one of entertaining alternate
examples and interpretations that may or may not threaten the
overriding interpretative scheme Cohen has adopted. For example,
the material provided on Jules Michelet is relatively slight. The
author uses him primarily as a foil for Robespierre, whose excesses
the famous historian decried. Cohen touches briefly on Michelet's
rather eccentric works on nature, women, and the family. Greater
emphasis on these less canonical texts could add an interesting
dimension to Cohen's study and give a more rounded treatment of
this familiar figure. Linda Orr's Jules Michelet: Nature,
History, Language (Ithaca, 1976) remains a valuable source for
these "other sides" to Michelet.
In at least one case, Cohen leans too heavily and
uncritically on one very controversial secondary source, i.e.,
James Miller's flawed and highly problematic biography The Passion
of Michel Foucault (New York, 1993). The biographer, who admitted
he was prompted to research the life because of the vicious rumor
that Foucault had deliberately infected several sexual partners
with the AIDS virus, appears to take ironic delight in uncovering
Foucault's "true" self as a means to explain the work he produced;
ironic because Foucault was so famously "antihumanist" and opposed
to overdetermined categories of self and subject. Cohen does not
cite the voluminous literature produced by outraged reactions to
Miller's biography.
Treatment of other figures appears more nuanced. To
be sure, Cohen drives home the point that each of the intellectual
figures he examines experienced great ambivalence about his role
vis-a-vis the public. Nearly all of them, possibly even
Robespierre, call to mind American comedian Groucho Marx's ironic
quip about not wanting to be a member of a club that would have
him. Jean-Paul Sartre made a habit of refusing awards and prizes,
most notably the Nobel in 1964. Michel Foucault spoke often in
interviews of his desire for anonymity. And no one bit the hands
that fed him more eagerly than Charles Peguy. No sooner had he
plunged into the pro-Dreyfus movement than he began to assail those
he believed had cheapened the cause through turning it to political
advantage.
Given the high drama of such examples, Cohen's
understated conclusion, with its tentative tone, seems an
afterthought rather than something which would set the stage for
further study. He briefly considers the all-too-fashionable
Aronesque argument, made more current by Tony Judt, that modern
French intellectuals have exhibited a totalitarian streak. He then
moves on to comment on the frustrations of France's tradition of
centralized bureaucracy. Finally, in a section one wishes had been
more fully developed and carefully considered if Cohen were to
introduce it at all, he suggests a gendered interpretation of
writers' ("masculine") rebellion against ("feminine") social
niceties and strictures.
After the very interesting material the author
presents in earlier chapters, and given the promise of the
perspectives he introduces even briefly, his conclusion is rather
odd. One example of an avenue which might have been explored more
fully is the institutional emphasis of Pierre Bourdieu, who has
provided a very detailed examination of the history and workings of
French intellectual culture. Discussion of the tradition of the
normaliens, which recent biographers of Sartre, Foucault, and
Louis Althusser have all emphasized, might have provided a more
satisfying means of describing "consecrated heresy" in its most
recent manifestations.
James A. Winders
Appalachian State University
windersja@appstate.edu
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