I Have Not A Desire But A

The Photograph Belongs To That Class Of Laminated Objects Whose Two Leaves Cannot Be Separated Without Destroying Them Both: The Windowpane And The Landscape, And Why Not: Good And Evil, Desire And Its Object: Dualities We Can Conceive But Not Perceive... Whatever It Grants To Vision And Whatever Its Manner, A Photograph Is Always Invisible: It Is Not It That We See.

A Photograph Is Always Invisible, It Is Not It That We See.

The Text Is Plural. Which Is Not Simply To Say That It Has Several Meanings, But That It Accomplishes The Very Plural Of Meaning: An Irreducible (and Not Merely An Acceptable) Plural. The Text Is Not A Co-existence Of Meanings But A Passage, An Overcrossing; Thus It Answers Not To An Interpretation, Even A Liberal One, But To An Explosion, A Dissemination.

The Photograph Is An Extended, Loaded Evidence — As If It Caricatured Not The Figure Of What It Represents (quite The Converse) But Its Very Existence ... The Photograph Then Becomes A Bizarre (i)medium(i), A New Form Of Hallucination: False On The Level Of Perception, True On The Level Of Time: A Temporal Hallucination, So To Speak, A Modest (o)shared(i) Hallucination (on The One Hand 'it Is Not There,' On The Other 'but It Has Indeed Been'): A Mad Image, Chafed By Reality.

…the Book Creates Meaning, The Meaning Creates Life.