Anti-Book. Thoburn, Nicholas

Anti-B ook
A Cultural Critique Book

Cesare Casarino, John Mowitt,
and Simona Sawhney, Editors
Portions of chapter 2 were published as Communist Objects and the Values
of Printed Matter, Social Text 28, no. 2 (2010): 131; copyright 2010 Duke
University Press; all rights reserved; reprinted by permission of the publisher,
Duke University Press, http://www.dukeupress.edu. Portions of chapter 3 were
published as The Strangest Cult: Material Forms of the Political Book through
Deleuze and Guattari, Deleuze Studies 7, no. 1 (2013): 5382. Portions of chapter
5 were published as Ceci nest pas un magazine: The Politics of Hybrid Media
in Mute Magazine, New Media and Society 14, no. 5 (2012): 81531. Portions of
chapter 6 were published as To Conquer the Anonymous: Authorship and Myth
in the Wu Ming Foundation, Cultural Critique 78 (2011): 11950.
Copyright 2016 by the Regents of the University of Minnesota
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a

retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechani-
cal, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of
the publisher.
Published by the University of Minnesota Press

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Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

The University of Minnesota is an equal-opportunity educator and employer.
22212019181716 10987654321
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Thoburn, Nicholas, author.
Title: Anti-book : on the art and politics of radical publishing / Nicholas Thoburn.
Description: Minneapolis : University of Minnesota Press [2016] |
Series: A cultural critique book | Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016003058 (print) | ISBN 978-0-8166-9999-5 (hc) |
ISBN 978-0-8166-2196-5 (pb)
Subjects: LCSH: Publishers and publishingPolitical aspects. | Electronic
publishingPolitical aspects. | Self-publishingPolitical aspects. |
AuthorshipPolitical aspects. | PamphletsPublishing. | Communist
literaturePublishing. | PeriodicalsPublishing. | Politics and
literature. | Digital media. | Alternative mass media. | BISAC: LITERARY
CRITICISM / Books & Reading. | LITERARY CRITICISM / Semiotics & Theory. |
SOCIAL SCIENCE / Media Studies.
Classification: LCC Z278 .T48 2016 (print) | DDC 070.5dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016003058
For Runa, Ilan, and Noah
Contents
Prefaceix
Acknowledgmentsxv
1. One Manifesto Less: Material Text and the Anti-Book 1
2. Communist Objects and Small Press Pamphlets 61
3. Root, Fascicle, Rhizome: Forms and Passions of

the Political Book 109
4. What Matter Whos Speaking? The Politics of

Anonymous Authorship 168
5. Proud to Be Flesh: Diagrammatic Publishing in

Mute Magazine 224
6. Unidentified Narrative Objects: Wu Mings

Political Mythopoesis 272
Notes301
Index361
Preface
Books about books commonly introduce their content by reference to the

object that readers hold in their hands, be it comprising bound printed
paper or networked code and touchscreen interface. This is a useful
conceit, for it brings textual content and media form into a momentary
resonance, soliciting an embodied and reflexive appreciation of that which
tends otherwise to be lost to the immersive flow of a books words. I would
not break with this practice, because interference between textual content
and media form is the stuff of Anti-Book. But I will unsettle it a little, for
such introductions can be too comforting, nestling the object in its readers
hands and habits when our time calls for a more troubling materiality.
Let me start with the title. A books title serves a dual function. It
introduces readers to the texts theme, prefatory reference to which would
normally assist in carrying readers into the books flow of text, but it also
helps place the book in a market, an observation that orients attention to
more medial and structural features. As Franco Moretti writes of literary
titles, Half sign, half ad, the title is where the novel as language meets
the novel as commodity.1 The title of Anti-Book is no different, its brevity
further serving the commodity function of market visibility even as the
book seeks to contribute to the undoing of the commodity form of books.
There is communist intent to Anti-Book, then, but it is a communism that
would draw attention to such contradictions and not make as though its
intent can lift it from the world of capital.
Moving to the books wider commodity features, there are numerous
ways to possess a book but, file-share scans notwithstanding, I venture
that many of you will have purchased the commodity you hold in your
hands from Amazon, a retailer and technology company whose profit
margins from the sale of print and digital books, among other things,
are dependent on pioneering industrial techniques in such arenas as
ix
x preface
logistics, digital rights management, consumer profiling, and the electronic

surveillance and intensification of labor. Such economics of distribution
and marketing in which Anti-Book is a participant by no means exhaust its
implication in capitalist social relations. These include the books structure
of authorship, which binds it to bourgeois models of individual creativity
and proprietary rights, and the class, gendered, and racialized dimensions
of the partition between work and leisure, the latter providing some read-
ers with an environment of more or less leisurely consumption wherein
the medium of the book finds its natural home, while leaving others a fit
between book and daily life that is rather less clean. Yet we tend not to
think of the capitalist form of books. We imagine books to be transcendent
intellectual, moral, and aesthetic goods unsullied by commerce, just as we
perceive our own individual encounters with these quintessential objects
of culture to confirm and augment only our intellect, taste, or political
commitments, the textual object greeting and flattering its reading subject
as if the two meet outside social determination.
This terrain of the commodity book was the substance of Amazon
Noir, a collaborative artwork centered on the unauthorized appropriation
from Amazon, and peer-to-peer distribution, of some three thousand
e-books.2 Amazon entices its customers attention through the marketing
tool Search Inside This Book, which enables word search through whole
books while preventing access to their whole. Exploiting this function,
Amazon Noir comprised a software script that would obtain a books entire
text via repeated searches, substituting the last words of one search for
the first words of the next. Each complete book was automatically saved
as a PDF and introduced into file-sharing networks, and, for the exhibi-
tion of the artwork, one of the stolen booksAbbie Hoffmans Steal
This Book, naturallywas printed, bound, and displayed in an incubator.
Amazon Noir served to articulate the inequity of the privatization of the
nonscarce resource of digital text, while taking advantage of the means by
which the technological affordances of digital text are mobilized to excite
consumer desire. It was an art project, but it was also an intervention into
the field of publishing, in which context it prompts the guiding question
or problem of Anti-Book. What is a communism of writing and publishing
that is concerned not only with the content and meaning of text but also with
preface xi
the media forms and social relations by which text is produced, circulated,
and consumed? More simply, what is a communism of textual matter?
It is a problem encountered in radical politics only rarely, which, in
line with the general trend, more usually pursues writing and publishing
for ideational effects alone, for the enlightening and organizing impact
of ideas. That said, the problem is not new. The focus of this book is on
publishing experiments in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, but we
can take an earlier example, William Blakes self-published illuminated
books of the 1790s, works that move us from the practical critique of
copyright into the broader materiality of the book commodity and that
assist in indicating that in the field of the anti-book, communism finds a
certain medial instantiation.
In these prefatory sketches of Blake and Amazon Noir, I am seeking
to convey an impression of the communism of textual matter, before this
problematic is developed through specific concrete platforms, publish-
ing paradigms, literary forms, and concepts in the chapters that follow.
As poet, painter, and printer, impressions were Blakes stock in trade. In
his illuminated books, play between image and text, complex systems of
allegory, textual ambiguity, and the confrontation of opposites were intri-
cately woven components of the struggle to attain the infinite. Here the
horizon of our being, in Saree Makdisis presentation of Blakes politics,
is not a narrow formal selfhood, a self as opposed to others, but rather
our participation in the common body of God, a life of the infinite body
and infinite brain, as Blake puts it.3 This infinite was posited against the
sovereign individual of the bourgeois polity and the constrained everyday
conditions of labor and oppression, but, and this is what is so enticing for
my purposes, it was practiced immanently to the medium within which
it was articulated. In other words, Blakes infinite was (along with much
else) a struggle in and against the book, against its dominant effects of self-
referential authority, textual devotion and submission, and dualism of mind
and body. The illuminated books are at once the medium through which
Blakes textual and visual images flourish and are themselves articulations
of these images.
In The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, Blake describes a vision of an
infernal printing house, and in so doing reveals his singular method of
xii preface
illuminated printing. Using relief etching, he interlaced image and text

on the same copper plates in etchings that no longer reproduced a prior
original work but were integrated in the creative process. As Makdisi
describes it, variation was now immanent to reproduction, in critical and
practical opposition to the repetition of the same that characterized the
Gutenberg book qua uniform and equivalent commodity. And Blakes
vision simultaneously reveals the sensory politics of his printing technique,
a production of the infinite against the barrd and petrifyd reduction
of perception in the finite sovereign subject:
first the notion that man has a body distinct from his soul, is to be ex-
punged; this I shall do, by printing in the infernal method, by corrosives,
which in Hell are salutary and medicinal, melting apparent surfaces away,
and displaying the infinite which was hid.
If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to
man as it is, infinite
For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro narrow
chinks in his cavern.4
The textual dimensions of Blakes anticapitalist condition of the infinite

were to take shape, then, not only in words and images but also in their
method of printing and their published form. It is a singular achievement
in content and form, in their interplay, indubitably so. And yet this suc-
cess may blind us to the nature of the relation. Neither in Amazon Noir
and Blake nor in the writing and publishing projects that fill the pages of
Anti-Book do textual content and media form achieve integrated identity.
In what served as a germinal seed for this book, Gilles Deleuze and Flix
Guattari provide a compelling slogan for the politics of textual matter:
There is no difference between what a book talks about and how it is
made.5 And yet as much as this sentence tips us into a politics of textual
matter, it also confounds, for there are in fact many differences between
textual content and the social processes and media forms by which a textual
work comes into being, as Deleuze and Guattari well knew. Such are the
differences that Leah Price has argued persuasively that we might best
grasp the nature of relations between content and form, and the specifici-
ties of each, by attending less to moments of apparent convergence and
preface xiii
more to their disjunctions, moments when they pull apart, when (for
example) an anticolonial manifesto is printed on paper imported from
the metropole, or when an oath of revenge is sworn upon the same bible
whose text preaches forgiveness.6 To do otherwise is to risk losing the
specific qualities and effects of media form to a relation of identity with
signifying content, as media form becomes merely contents confirmation,
or, when conjunction does not occur, as is more common, an irrelevance.
Hence, if we do want to bring content and form together in a textual
politics that is a weave of the two, as is the aim of the experimental
works explored in Anti-Book, such a politics needs to be attentive to
two aspects of this relation. First, it must reflexively attend to aspects
of a works material conditions that it is not able to critically refashion,
where content comes into relation with media form as critical opposition.
Second, in instances when content and form come into a generative and
political relation of codetermination, we should attend to the specificities
of a texts media forms, the ways that its conceptual registers and political
aims are extended, interrogated, swallowed up, or exceeded in the specific
sociomaterial relations and forms by which it is manifest in the world.
From such critical and generative interplay arise the many materialities
of political text. In their midst, the field of writing and publishing, which
has been so central to the transmission of communist thought, can become
also a vibrant arena of its materializationa fleeting and fragmentary
literary communism.7
Acknowledgments
To thank the many people who contributed to this book is a true plea-
sure. I especially want to thank those who generously gave their time to
talk to me about their publishing projects: Josephine Berry, Chris, Jakob
Jakobsen, Pauline van Mourik Broekman, Fabian Tompsett, and Simon
Worthington. Some of these meetings developed into conversations and
friendships that accompanied the progress of the book, for me one of
the joys of writing. Much of Anti-Book was first aired in seminars and
conference talks, and I would like to thank the organizers of these, in
particular Pablo Lafuente for Publications on Art: Cultural, Social, and
Political Uses in Seville; Tim Stott and Aislinn ODonnell for a talk at
the Graduate School of Creative Arts and Media in Dublin; Audrone
Zukauskaite and Kasparas Pocius for two conferences in Vilnius; Juan
Pablo Macas for a convivial few days in late summer at the Histories of
Publishing seminar at Villa Romana, Florence; and Branka uri, Zoran
Gaji, Zoran Panteli, Savo Romevi, and Borka Stoji of Kuda.org for
hosting a most enjoyable time discussing the anti-book and other matters
in Novi Sad, Belgrade, and Zagreb.
Stephen Zepke generously lent his critical eye to the material in this
book at different stages of its formation; for this and his friendship I am
most grateful. Many of the ideas in Anti-Book were formed during my time
affiliated to the Centre for Research on Socio-Cultural Change (CRESC) at
the University of Manchester and the Open University, where I benefited
greatly from discussions across the disciplines, especially with Eleanor
Casella, Jeanette Edwards, Gillian Evans, Penny Harvey, Hannah Knox,
Chris McLean, Damian ODoherty, Madeleine Reeves, and Kath Wood-
ward. CRESC also provided me with two periods of much-needed research
leave. Friends and colleagues in Manchester, London, and elsewhere
contributed in different ways to the writing of this book: Koyes Ahmed,
xv
xvi acknowledgments
Jeremy Anderson, Selina Asombang, Wendy Bottero, Bridget Byrne,

John Cunningham, Mehdi El Hajoui, Leah Hargreaves, Brian Heaphy,
Graeme Kirkpatrick, Saree Makdisi, Sas Mays, Martha Michailidou,
Khalid Nadvi, Sara and Sami Nadvi-Byrne, Simon OSullivan, Bev Skeggs,
and Sivamohan Valluvan. My parents, June and John, and my brother
Alan have been, as ever, a great source of love and support.
It was in conversation with my good friend Cesare Casarino that my
anti-book ideas were first nudged toward book form, and Cesare, John
Mowitt, and Simona Sawhney have been a pleasure to work with in bring-
ing it to publication in the Cultural Critique series. I am most grateful to
Doug Armato at the University of Minnesota Press for commissioning
the book and guiding it to completion and to Erin Warholm-Wohlenhaus
for all her help in the production stages. Many thanks to Holly Monteith
for her fine copyediting. The manuscript benefited much from two anony-
mous readers, not that they or anyone else acknowledged here are respon-
sible for the books errors.
Runa Khalique has shared the joys and trials of writing this book from
its earliest days, feeling out fledgling ideas, raising an eyebrow at strange
tales of communist publishingand at my obsessions with themand
leading us on many adventures outside the world of books. During the
writing of this book, Runa and I became parents to beautiful twin boys,
Ilan and Noah. They have made their father proud and happy beyond
words. It is to Runa and our boys that I dedicate the book, with much love.
1
One Manifesto Less
Material Text and the Anti-B ook
One can speak out only through the mouth, but the books
facilities for expression take many more forms.
el lissitzky, Our Book
The impossibility of thinking of an aesthetic medium as nothing

more than an unworked physical support.
rosalind krauss, A Voyage on the North Sea
The communism of writing and publishing that is developed in these pages

is against the book, it is anti-book, but not, as you might imagine, as
some kind of manifesto tilted at a media form on the wane and packaged
with the hubris of the technological new. For neither manifestos nor
technological functionalities are the most promising means to a commu-
nism of textual media. Anti-Book, rather, is a critique of the book that is
immanent to its medium or to the forms of textual media more broadly
conceived. Allow me to explain a little by presenting a first approximation
of the concept that orients this book in its encounters with experimental
political publishing.
An anti-book is a work of writing and publishing that critically inter-
rogates its media form. That is to say, it is a self-reflexive textual work.
But reflexivity here is not confined to the domain of text and literary form.
Anti-books test, problematize, and push to the limits their full materiality,
or significant aspects thereof, where the materiality of a book comprises
the dynamic interplay of textual content and media form, a critical and
generative relation operative at scales both concrete and abstract. This
materiality includes physical properties and technological affordances, cer-
tainly, but also signifying strategies, graphical arrangements, and sensory
1
2 one manifesto less
qualities, all of which are interlaced with publishing paradigms, linguistic

structures, and economies and practices of production and consumption.
And such materiality is political. Anti-books articulate the encounter
between communist thought and experimental practices of writing and
publishing, where these encounters are not contained within social move-
ments but emergealbeit in a fragmentary and occasional fashionacross
the terrain of textual media, a terrain where the commodity form plays a
role no less commanding than it does for the audiovisual. In foregrounding
the formal and sensory qualities of textual media, the anti-book is also an
aesthetic figure; this is the art of political publishing, one that occasion-
ally takes leave of the textual dimensions of textual media altogether. As
to the sociohistorical context of the concept, the anti-book might be said
to have troubled textual media since the invention of the Gutenberg let-
terpress and the generalization of print, but it comes to the fore and takes
on particular qualities in the digital media environment, as anxiety about
the future of the book and the proliferation of communication platforms
impress on collective consciousness the material specificities of text.
This is a minimum definition of the anti-book. Yes, it is somewhat
stripped down, but that quality is inherent to its purpose. For with these
lineaments of the anti-book, I seek not to clarify and contain the many
and various features of works that might be identified as such, to establish
a definite class of anti-books, but to provide an abstraction, a conceptual
map, that can concentrate attention on concrete experiments in political
writing and publishing, in all their rich materiality and multiform variety.
While the concept of the anti-book is a guide to such works, a focalizer,
it is not, hence, an ideal type; indeed, the abstraction is itself necessarily
open to destabilization and modification by the publishing experiments it
surveys. The chapters that follow this introductory chapter all concentrate
on such concrete experiments in political publishing and writing, each
of which is interlaced with one or more concepts of its own: communist
objects, the rhizome-book, anonymous authorship, diagrammatic publish-
ing, unidentified narrative objects, to name some of these. In its focalizing
work, the concept of the anti-book is at once immanent to these other
concepts, emerging from them and drawing alliances between them, and
swallowed up by them, as they do their own work without such assistance.
one manifesto less 3
Whereas the other chapters in this book explore the features of the
anti-book through particular empirical projects, this introduction seeks
to place the concept in relation to three domains or problematics in writ-
ing and publishing, domains that pertain to the concept of the anti-book
as sites of its emergence and intervention. The domains in question are
art experiments with the form of textual media that go by the name of
bookworks or artists books; communist writing and publishing,
especially with regard to the passing of the workers movement and the
commodity forms of text; and the post-digital mutations and publishing
potentials of contemporary textual media. To different degrees of empha-
sis, each of these comprises theoretical orientations, points of aesthetic
and political problematization, and concrete practices. All three have in
their margins produced a formulation of the anti-book, but it is in the
interplay of these domains that the concept as I use it arisesnot exactly
at their intersection but at various and discontinuous points of proximity
and interference between them. Before considering these domains, let me
first introduce the broad orientation toward writing and publishing that
extends throughout this book, the notion of material text.
Material Text
The material forms and qualities of writing and publishing have long
remained marginal to the academic study and popular understanding of
text. There have certainly been significant and persistent exceptions, but
Andrew Murphie grasps well the situation in his remark that publishing as
a process (as opposed to the contents published) has tended to be seen, only
occasionally, out of the corner of ones eye.1 When material forms of text
are present to conscious articulation, more often than not they feature as cli-
chd artifacts that are coextensive with or insufficiently distinguished from
the textual genres that they typically carry, as Lisa Gitelman notes: Say the
word novel, for instance, and your auditors will likely imagine a printed
book, even if novels also exist serialized in nineteenth-century periodicals,
published in triple-decker (multivolume) formats, and loaded ontoand
reimagined by the designers ofKindles, Nooks, and iPads.2 This situ-
ation is, however, undergoing considerable change, change associated
in large measure with transformations in technology as the dominant

form of media has shifted from one organized by the affordances of print
and paperalbeit that these have been highly various, comprising mul-
tiple forms and technologies of reproduction other than the codex and
letterpressto those of digital and online media. It may have been the
very ubiquity of print media that kept its material forms away from criti-
cal attention, as if this had the normative effect of making the particular
conventions of print appear to be universal features of textual expression,
and unremarkable as such. Consequently, as N. Katherine Hayles argues,
as print ceases to be the default medium of publication, the assumptions,
presuppositions, and practices associated with it are now becoming visible
as media-specific practices rather than the largely invisible status quo.3
Or, if we approach this question from the perspective of digital and
networked media, it may be the particular properties of the latter that
have brought new attention to textual matter. With the media forms
and commercial platforms of e-mail, blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Reddit,
Tumblr, and so forth, made continuous and fully mobile by the smart
phone, writing and publishing have not only become interlaced with social
practice in myriad and mutable ways but features of media form persis-
tently push into the frame of contentwe are not writing, so much as
tweeting, messaging, commentingmaking a felt appreciation of media
form increasingly common, even necessary, while radically unsettling
the distinction between form and content. Think, for example, of how
the structural function of the Twitter hashtaginline metadata that
aggregates and organizes the multiplicity of Tweets in the expression of
trend patterns and ambient affiliationsis an immanent feature, and
consciously so, of the text that participants construct and consume.4
Bucking trends toward thinking the immateriality of digital text, Kenneth
Goldsmith draws the plausible conclusion from such developments that
never before has language had so much materialityfluidity, plasticity,
malleabilitybegging to be actively managed by the writer.5
Whatever the causes, it is now more commonly recognized that an
exclusive focus on semantic content is an inadequate means of grasp-
ing the full meanings and effects of text. For, as Michele Moylan and
Lane Stiles describe it, texts are not disembodied mental constructs
transcending materiality, culture, and history, there is no such thing...as

a text unmediated by its materiality.6 Concern with the materiality of text
has a foundation in the discipline of book history and is now central to more
recent developments in digital humanities and speculative computing.7
These intellectual fields are too large and various to review here, but I will
draw from them a few themes that situate my approach to material text.
If there is a shared ground to these different disciplines and perspec-
tives, it is that any written work is a product of the interplay between
textual content (the words, concepts, rhetorical structures, literary forms,
etc., that are read in the work) and medium (the affordances, qualities,
and constraints of its physical materialization and structure as artifact,
technology, and social and institutional form). Both content and medium
are of course highly various in themselves and interlaced in complex and
mutable relations of codetermination, making the broad distinction useful
only as a heuristic for approaching the particular features of any given
work of textual matter. Any particular material text is a multiform entity,
with many different and divergent meanings, effects, and scales of opera-
tion. As Hayles argues, it is thus impossible to specify precisely what a
bookor any other textis as a physical object (where physical here
denotes the material features or media forms of the work, including the
social, cultural, and technological processes that brought it into being).8
Her solution to the potentially confounding effect of this field of differ-
ence is to attend to the ways that particular works themselves interrogate
and mobilize their material forms and relations, a category of works she
names with the term technotext. A technotext emerges when a literary
work interrogates the inscription technology that produces it.9 Insofar as
the materiality of a work is in this way bound up with the texts content,
it cannot be specified in advance but is, rather, an emergent condi-
tion.10 A technotext, in other words, at once interrogates and produces
its material form. At this point we need to bring in a third determining
element to the texts emergent materiality alongside content and medium,
that of the reader, her interactions with the work and the interpretive
strategies she developsstrategies that include physical manipulations as
well as conceptual frameworks.11 Indeed, it may be the reader that makes
a technotext, because a text that does not reflexively address its material
forms can be made to do so by the act of reading and interpretation. So,

while Hayless concept of technotext foregrounds works that critically
reflect on their material forms, she notes that ultimately any text can be
understood in these terms, given that all texts are mediated and actively
consumed, whether they reflexively embody this or not.12
Such interplay between content, medium, and reader generates a com-
plex and open material text, but it is not of course without determination.
If a technotext is an interrogation of the specific logics and constraints
of its material conditionsits particular forms of textual inscription but
also its broader social, economic, and technological relationsit is also a
product of these. Needless to say, these logics, constraints, and conditions
are no less complex than any individual material text and so cannot be
easily mapped in the abstract, but a considerable body of research has done
much to explore their broad parameters. For instance, if we follow Roger
Chartier, the organizing structures of the medium of the book and its
associated discursive formations can be understood as a conjunction of
three interlaced innovations: the codex, which replaced the scroll in the
early Christian era, establishing the book as the basic unit of written work
and as a textual object distinct from all others; the unitary work, which
arises in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and integrates book, work,
and author; and the arrival of the moveable type printing press in the mid-
fifteenth century, which generalizes print and the book as the dominant
technology for the mass reproduction of the written word.13 These are not
only technical forms but are integrated with forms of property (notably,
the author as means by which unitary works are established as units of
property) and patterns of reason (the linear or deductive form encour-
aged by the movement of textual inscription onto a page) as well as with
the different forms, functions, and hierarchies of media object (book,
newspaper, magazine, pamphlet, poster, letter, bureaucratic document,
etc.) and functions of the written word (legal, aesthetic, political, etc.).
Thus are some of the determinations of the media form of the book,
which order the production and consumption of writing in particular ways.
But the productive role of the reader is no less subject to determination.
While various in each instance, the meanings of books, and the subjects
of reading, occur within patterns that are established by the discursive
and institutional forms of literature (and other textual genres) and the
marketing mechanisms of the publishing industry, as the study of most
best sellers, for example, will readily reveal.14
These social, economic, and technical logics and conditions all affect
the meaning of a text, but this is not their only arena of social impact; we
should equally attend to the nontextual impact of textual materials and their
institutional forms. As the product of particular logics and conditions, a
media object is also their bearer, at once consolidating and extending the
social relations associated with its production, circulation, and consump-
tion. Pursuing this line of reasoning, significant research has associated
the material texts of print media with particular features of modernity:
the role of print in the formation of nationalism, for instance, or in the
French Revolution.15 The most influential instance of this is Elizabeth L.
Eisensteins argument that the printing press and print culture were
agents of standardization, dissemination, and fixity that had considerable
impact on the progress and intellectual structure of the Protestant Ref-
ormation, the Renaissance, and the Scientific Revolution.16 In the course
of her argument, Eisenstein provides an intriguing possible explanation
for the historical lack of critical attention to the material forms of print
that I noted earlier, for here the specific material qualities of print culture
served as it were to dematerialize the medium of the book, as effects of
stabilization meant that, as Daniel Selcer presents Eisensteins thesis,
texts were no longer defined by the particularity of their material form:
Rather, their ubiquity, their (in principle) infinite reproducibility, and the
stabilization of the conventions governing their format and appearance
allowed for what we might call their dematerialization, whereby particular
books and other printed matter became mere exemplars of a now inviolate
authorial content that reappeared as an identical page each time another
object with the same title and printing-house genealogy was examined or
a new print run undertaken.17
Eisensteins influential thesis has not gone uncontested. In response,

Adrian Johns in The Nature of the Book makes a compelling case that far
from simplifying the material forms and relations of text, the complexi-
ties of production and circulation associated with the expansion of print
may rather have destabilized texts, to quote Selcer again, by opening a

myriad of new avenues through which readers may approach texts and by
rendering more complex the chain of sovereign authorial production that
connects authors to their texts and texts to their readers.18 Johns does
not refute that there are strong tendencies to fixity, though he invites us
to consider how this was not an intrinsic property of the technical forms
of print but an emergent, contingent, and unstable product of the mani-
fold labors and representations of the individual and institutional actors
involved in printing, publishing, and reading over time and space.19 Tech-
niques of accreditation took a central role, as the practices of particular
individuals, institutions, and readers generated and conferred veracity on
works that were in fact prone to piracy and careless printing. Eisensteins
error slips in because such practices were subject by internal pressures to
make it appear as though stability had a technological source, the labor of
print publishing being necessarily dedicated to effacing its own traces,
because only in this could print gain the air of intrinsic reliability on which
its cultural and commercial success could be built.20 Johnss suggestion,
then, is that Eisenstein, taking the myth of technological standardization
as fact, succumbed to this effacement. And so, while nominally recover-
ing the materiality of print, she did so in a manner that abstracted its
technological form from its material labors, uses, and contexts, whereas
a full materialism would proceed on the basis of their codetermination.
Concordant with this thesis, Johns invites renewed critical attention to
piracy and the dangers presented to fixity, in so doing proffering a highly
variegated picture of the field of early modern print, one less governed
by the interpretive paradigm of norm and exception.21 The immanence
of piracy to the early publishing industry was such that anomalous forms
and activities were less exceptions to fixity and uniformity than constant
sources of disruption to, and spurs to the development of, the epistemic
structures of knowledge, authorship, and accreditation and to the eco-
nomic and publishing paradigms of the book trade. I ask you to keep
Johnss thesis in mind in what follows. The aims and practices of piracy
do not map onto those of the anti-book, but Johnss thesis is a significant
inspiration for my argument insofar as it shows that if standardization
and fixity are a feature of publishingas I spend some time arguing
publishing, both digital and print, is also characterized by much material

complexity, anomaly, and disruption, qualities central to its politicization.
Bookwork
Holding to Johnss injunction to attend to the situated, complex, and

multiform materiality of publishing, I will turn now to the first of the three
domains with which the concept of the anti-book is in critical exchange,
the artists book or bookwork (terms I use interchangeably). The artists
book is a mode of aesthetic production that takes as its object the physi-
cal, formal, and institutional qualities of the textual medium of which
it is constituted. As Johanna Drucker defines it in her seminal book on
the many manifestations of this art form, an artists book is an original
work that integrates the formal means of its realization and production
with its thematic or aesthetic issues.22 Its field is playfully presented
diagrammatically by Clive Phillpot, who has tracked this aesthetic form
(and its changing nomenclature) since its inception (Figure 1).23 The share
of the field with which we are concerned is here labeled book art and
book objects.
Before developing the notion of the bookwork further, I want to place
it in the broader camp of what Rosalind Krauss calls the self-differing
medium, for this helps further specify the materiality in question. A
self-differing medium is constituted when the conventions and structures
that determine the medium of a particular artwork are themselves taken
up in the work in a fashion that alters those determinations, as the work
comes to specify itself and hence becomes self-differing.24 The medium,
then, is something made, rather than something given, or made as
much as it is given.25 There is no direct correspondence between a works
medium and its content, but more a baggy fit, allowing it a certain degree
of latitude in the way it responds to its material forms, even as in doing
so it becomes a successful work only insofar as it constitutes their neces-
sity to itself. Moreover, and this is a feature of Krausss argument that is
especially pertinent for the concept of the anti-book, her understanding
of the medium is not confined to its physical substance (as it is in Clement
Greenbergs canonical definition of medium-specificity) but can also take
Figure 1. Clive Phillpot, Artist Books Diagram, 1982. Courtesy of Clive Phillpot.
an epistemic form, including rules, logics, and paradigms, and tends not
toward a progressively more refined adequacy to a mediums singularity
(again, in contrast to Greenberg) but to an open and recursive emergence
through successive loops of self-interrogation.26
There is clearly some comparability between the bookwork qua self-
differing medium and Hayless concept of technotext that I introduced
previously. But constituted in the field of plastic arts rather than literature,
the concept of the self-differing medium is sometimes more useful for
my purposes, because it explicitly sets its sights on the full breadth of
the material and formal qualities of a book, without any necessary prior-
ity given to its text. Ulises Carrin conveys this aspect in describing the
bookwork as an autonomous space-time sequence, a self-sufficient
form that consists of various elements, one of which might be a text....In
a book of the new art words dont transmit any intention; theyre used to
form a text which is an element of a book, and it is this book, as a totality,
that transmits the authors intention.27 Although text will usually play a
central role in bringing into expression the material forms of a particular
bookwork, often it will not, being at most a catalyst to the bookworks array
of expressive features and effects. Guattari helps clarify this point. He

suggests that to place such attention on the expressivity of materials is
not to undermine the importance of text, or to minimiz[e] the role of
the text and of the writing machine in the putting to work of these mute
redundancies, but is rather to allow for the autonomy and polyvocality
of different expressive materials, against the linguistic overcoding
of text.28
Drawing this discussion into explicit alignment with this books guiding
term, if not yet its concept fully formed, it was these kinds of recursive
and open-ended relations among the breadth of a books materiality, along
with the associated experimental impulse, that led Richard Kostelanetz
in the 1970s to designate artists books as anti-books.29 Rather than
succumb[ing] to the conventions of the medium, Kostelanetz argued
that the artists book confounds received reading practices and envisions
what else the book might become. As such, it is likely to strike the
common reviewer as a non-book or antibook.30
This emphasis on experimental engagement with forms and ma-
terial qualities may appear paradoxical, because the emergence of the
artists book as a named phenomenon is closely associated with 1960s
and 1970s conceptual art and the move away from the art object into
dematerialized practice.31 Certainly the artists book traveled along with
the tendency for art to become concept and theory, as paradigmatically
exemplified by the journal Art-Language, but it held on to the material
terrain of the production and consumption of such art/theory and other
linguistic/aesthetic operations. In this, artists books can be distinguished
from conceptual art, and also in their often critical relation to the com-
mercial instrumentalization of art, as part of what Lucy Lippard calls a
broad, if nave, quasi-political resistance to the extreme commodification
of artworks and artists.32 For while conceptual art claimed its demateri-
alization to serve critique of the art commodityas Krauss puts it in her
polemic against conceptual art, postminimalism, and relational aesthetics,
conceptual art abjures the aesthetic object as mere commodityin
fact, as Alexander Alberro has shown, it tended to reproduce the values
and perceptual frames of an increasingly dematerialized capitalism that
was taking off through marketing and advertising.33
This is not to say that artists books took textual matter to be in and
of itself external to relations of authority and capital. As Gwen Allen
argues, for many practitioners and theorists of this art form, the page is
not a neutral or universal spacea museum without wallsbut is shot
through with various institutional and ideological forces, operating to
codify and consolidate hierarchies of authorship and structures of aesthetic
value.34 Handling the practical critique of such forces while cleaving to
the materialities and social relations of text entailed a range of practices
and orientations. The artists book emerged as a mode of art practice that
was relatively inexpensive to produce and consume, multiple and hence
potentially nonauratic, reasonably accessible, at least insofar as it was
encountered in everyday life and at readers own rhythms, and peripheral
to the gallery system and conventions of the art establishment, with the
latters integration of critical and commercial structures of value.35 It
has also been constituted in relation to networks of politics and sociality,
where the mobility that is intrinsic to the form of the book, as well as the
participatory nature of small-scale book production and of exchange, has
been associated with particular events, alternative institutions, or political
currents. For these kinds of reasons, artists books have sometimes been
understood as democratic multiples, but these books, at their best,
have tended not to construct or partake in the universal field of some
generalized democratic public but have functioned as media specific
to particular problems, themes, or minorities and have often been acutely
aware that the democratic polity operates through the exclusion of their
terms. The adoption of the artists book by feminist and queer political
scenes is particularly notable in this regard.36
Naturally, the bookwork has not escaped the circuits of commercial
value and the star system and has come to be a relatively established art
practice. But in the qualities I have been describing, it also contains a con-
siderable impulse to nonidentity, breaching the bounds of the media forms
and practices that it designates. That quality is apparent in Lippards grap-
pling with an adequate definition, where she comments that artists books
are best defined as whatever isnt anything else. They arent quite photo-
books, comic books, coffee-table books, fiction, illustration.37 And yet they
are not distinct either; as Phillpot argues, artists books lose something
essential about their form and intervention if they are treated as separate
from other books or hived off into an institutional, art-oriented collection
separated from books more generally conceived.38 I would run with this
and suggest that the promise of the artists book is that it loses distinction
as a circumscribed genre to emerge within and across all textual media as a
condition or quality of formal experimentation. The point has been made
recently in Michael Hamptons THEARTISTSBOOKANEWHISTORY
(an edition by the artists book project Banner Repeater, run by Ami
Clarke, whose project space has the uncanny appeal of being located
on the platform of a working train station, Hackney Downs platform 1).
Hamptons expanded and decentered history of the artists book, whose
narrative order is fragmented by its published form as a folded A2 sheet,
opens to such a diverse range of works, materials, and methods that it
performs his speculation that, as the medium of the book cedes the data
management function to the computer and so frees up its experimental
capacities, the borders of the artists book will become indistinct, no
longer circumscribed by art world protocols, and steganographically in-
distinguishable from the book itself.39 I will pick up this point later under
the theme of post-digital publishing, but what I draw from it now is that
on the terrain of political textual media, Anti-Book shares this boundary-
breaking orientation. The anti-book is not a distinct body of practices and
works but the experimental condition of communist publishing, where
communist publishing is not a circumscribed field of social movement
media but designates a potentiala potential charged with conflict and
politics, certainlyof all textual production.
Having sketched the principal features of the bookwork qua self-
differing medium, I would like to provide an illustration with Kostelanetzs
irregular serial publication Assembling (197087), which he founded with
Henry James Korn as something of a hybrid of magazine and book (they
use both terms to describe it). Given that it was established by writers
interested in the literary avant-garde, Assembling was never going to be held
to established genres of textual expression, but the magazines challenge
to constraints of form was manifest as much in its physical and design
characteristics as in its texts. It was anomalous indeed; in Allens evocative
description, Assembling was a chaotic and uneven (in every sense of the
word) mix of art, poetry, and other kinds of texts and documents with in-
consistent margins, fonts, and layouts, printed on a heterogeneous range of
papers, from colored construction paper to college-ruled notebook paper.40
Assembling entered the field of the bookwork as a problematization
of the editorial/industrial complex of commercial publishing, whose
economic and aesthetic paradigms functioned as a bar to the publication
of experimental writing.41 It did so as a counter-editorial experiment
whereby the restrictive, self-serving nature of traditional editorial pro-
cesses were surrendered in a commitment to publish all and any submis-
sions the editors received, following each issues invitation to writers and
artists to submit, ready for publication, otherwise unpublishable works
on paper (for the first issue: up to four sheets of 8.5" 11" in multiples
of one thousand for an edition of the same number, one of which was Ed
Ruschas Chocolate, a thousand sheets of paper marked with a smudge
of that confection).42 In this way the contributors were compelled to take
on many of the practical and design functions previously the preserve of
the publisher, so becoming their own self-publishers as they learned the
reproduction methods most conducive to their work. Assembling also
surrendered its property rights, returning copyright to the contributors.
With these characteristics in mind, we might understand Assembling as
a work that held together simultaneously the processes of assembly and
disassembly. Contributions were pulled into each bound issue, while the
concentrating functions of editorial, publishing infrastructure, and copy-
right were pushed out or distributed to contributors and the unity of form
and content was found in the magazines very disunity, as it gain[ed] its
cohering definition (which is approximately repeatable) from its unprec-
edented diversity.43 Not that Assembling was wholly without consistency,
for each issues call for contributions invited works along a theme (as an
example, our place in nature and natures place in us for number 12).
But even these thematic concerns were handled in the assembling manner,
where, given that there was no editorial evaluation, each issue theme was
expected to appear sporadically through the magazinea flexible motif
recurring through the collage, appearing in widely different forms.44
If that was the coherence of the magazinea disassembling assembly,
if you willthe conventional relationship between published work and
reader was caught up in a similar dynamic, in a printed entity that was

more to be enjoyed than evaluated, that could be read backwards,
as well as forwards, or from the middle outwards, where the leaps
from one chapter to the next are so great that it might best be read in a
fragmented fashion, in circumstances that encourage discrete pauses.45
And just as centralized editorial judgment was surrendered, the func-
tion of evaluation was devolved to the reader in what may have been a
disconcerting experience:
Many readers feel the need to be reassured by an authority figure; feel

that a work must be consecrated by some sort of expert; feel the need to
be told what is good and what is not. Assembling makes no such assurance;
publication in Assembling does not consecrate or validate anything. Instead,
it returns the responsibility of judgment to the reader, where it belongs.46
One might have expected this unedited heterogeneity to result in the

devaluation of art practice in an unregulated banality, but if the remit of
Assembling for the unpublished and unpublishable was a negation of
editorial evaluation, it was less a refusal of quality than an injunction to un-
constrained experiment. As the call for the ninth issue put it, Assembling
offers every contributor an unparalleled opportunity not only to transcend
editorial restrictions but also to surpass his or her previous work with a
singular contribution that will stand out from the surrounding pack.47
Assembling was constituted as an anti-book, then, across its textual,
editorial, commercial, formal, and physical properties. Indeed, it expressed
the anti-books recursive and anti-identitarian sensibility not only in these
aspects of textual and media form but in its self-understanding as a pub-
lishing project; as Kostelanetz wrote in the first issue, in the end,...we
should like to find the dissemination of experimental writing changed so
radically that Assembling would have no further need to exist.48
Communism, Writing, Publishing
The second domain of intervention of the anti-book is the material culture

of communist writing and publishing, especially with regard to develop-
ments in communist thought after the passing of the historical workers
movement and to the capitalist conditions of textual media. It is here

that Anti-Book is most directly located. If I seek to fashion an anti-book
orientation and sensibility from the domain of the bookwork, it is to draw
out and develop the bookwork of communismthough I make this point
with the strong proviso that the conjunction contains an impulse toward
nonidentity.49 The conjunction of communism and bookwork does not
designate a specific body of works, nor a depoliticized aestheticization
of communist publishing, but interference between the two domains
toward an expanded understanding of the materiality of communist
textual expression.
The term anti-book has arisen in the domain of communist publishing
too, as a description Guy Debord applied to Mmoires, the communist
bookwork he constructed with Asger Jorn in the late 1950s, which fa-
mously embodied its critical valence in its covers of heavy sandpaper. I
will save consideration of that work until chapter 3 and instead set out the
broader features of the anti-book intervention in relation to the domain of
communist writing and publishing. It is useful to this end to work with an
essay by Rgis Debray, Socialism: A Life-Cycle, published in translation
in New Left Review in 2007.50 Though ultimately unsatisfactory, Debrays
piece is striking for its account of the imbricated or ecological relation
between socialism (his inclusive term for the ideological spectrum of
the historical workers movement) and its media forms, helping to orient
our attention to the materials and forms of political text.
Debrays essay is grounded in his broad thesis that we cannot grasp
the nature of conscious collective life without understanding the mate-
rial forms and processes through which its ideas are transmitted, its
mediological ecosystem.51 His articulation of this thesis here is that
the media ecology of the nineteenth-and twentieth-century workers
movement was wholly integrated with, and patterned by, the material and
intellectual culture of print, of which a guiding image is the alignment of
the inauguration of the First International (1864) and the invention of the
rotary press (1867), which multiplied the speed of impressions tenfold. All
the components are here for a rich materialist ecology of socialist media:
printers, typographers, print runs, distribution circuits, text durations,
books, newspapers, parties, intellectuals, reading habits, and pedagogic
styles. The printer is something of a nexus, the pivot of socialism as a

worker intellectual or an intellectual workerthe very word socialism, as
if to confirm the point, coined by a typographer, Pierre Leroux. And the
newspaper is the privileged media form.52 Here Debrays thesis dovetails
with Lenins account of the preeminent organizational power of the party
newspaper (a point I return to in chapter 5), but Debrays analysis of the
immanent relation between print and socialism has considerably more
ontological and epistemological reach.53 Not only newspapers, Debray
assesses the place of letters, fliers, illicit newssheets, pamphlets, journals,
books, archives, librariesthe historical workers movement was a veri-
table weave of text and textual forms. And for Debray, this was intrinsic
to the social production of revolutionary politics, a culture of reading
and writing through which the abstraction of thought could break with
the sense impressions of the immediate present and open the possibili-
ties for thinking revolution: Writing collectivizes individual memory;
reading individualizes collective memory. The back-and-forth between
them fosters the sense for history by unearthing potentials within the
present, creating backdrops and foregrounds; it is fundamental for the
idea of socialism.54 Let me step from this to reflect a little on the place
and value of writing to communism.
Statements like Debrays here are not uncommon. Vilm Flusser
argues, for instance, that movement between the production and con-
sumption of writing is not only key to the capacity of writing to carry
collective meaning but, in so doing, and in its capacity to form a linear
movement through time, writing is also the essence of politics: the truly
political gesture is to write and publish texts. All other political engagement
follows from and submits to texts.55 Naturally, I consider the production
and consumption of writing and publishing to have a significant role in
political composition, though my enthusiasm is more tempered, and I
would frame it rather more critically. As the title of Flussers book Does
Writing Have a Future? suggests, his affirmation is framed as a defense, or
at least a specification, of writing in the face of ascendant screen media.
The context of Debrays argument, as we will see shortly, is not dissimilar.
My argument differs somewhat. In affirming the political value of mate-
rial text, Anti-Book in no way approaches writing as a residual technology
under threat from the ascendant image; with the ubiquity of textscreen
interfaces and the social media platforms of Twitter, Facebook, and so
on, we may not be deeper in words than weve ever been, but text is
hardly on the wane.56 If writing is not under threat, neither is it to be
wholeheartedly affirmed or placed in as pivotal a place as it is in Debray
and Flusser. Writing and publishing are in fact rather ineffectual political
means. The ever-expanding volume of revolutionary text should confront
communist writers with a degree of introspection as to the value of our
endeavor. Gilles Dauv and Karl Nesic memorably put it like this:
Theres little chance that a person whos never once felt the urge to blow
anything up will write meaningful subversive stuff. But the same is true of
a person who has never felt some derision when looking at bookshelves full
of revolutionary books and archives, or at the infinite availability of similar
books and archives on the Internet. Theres no relevant theory without
an awareness of the limits of words in general and theory in particular.57
Moreover, while revolutionary politics would seem to be inextricably

entwined with writing and publishing, at times indistinguishable from
its expression in print, as Kevin Gilmartin notes of radical protest in
early-nineteenth-century Britain, this is an overdetermined historical
outcome, not an inevitability.58 It comprises different causes, for example,
the elevation of publishing as a political practice in its own right that was
attendant on its state repression in the early years of the workers move-
ment, or the possibility that writing and publishing afford of practicing
politics, or feeling that one is doing so, in times when the horizon of
collective action is limited. And the prominence of publishing in radical
history should not blind us to the latters strong and significant oral and
audiovisual forms or to the fact that text will likely be ever more interlaced
with such forms in the future.
It is important to register also that the relation between revolutionary
politics and writing has by no means always had progressive outcomes. For
all that the cultures of publishing opened new dimensions and possibili-
ties in radical politics, they also had significant class and gender effects of
closure and exclusion. James Vernon makes a convincing case that as the
balance of radical expressive culture in Britain tipped toward print media
during the nineteenth century, print, championed as the universal tool

of reason, was in fact far from universal.59 Print and its cultures did not
herald the arrival of mass politics, as is the received account, but tended
to reconstitute the public political sphere in an ever-more restrictive
fashion, excluding groups believed to be irrational like women and the
illiterate poor from public political debate.60 A significant role was played
by legislation, which sought to shift the locus of political subjectivity
onto the possessive individual of the bourgeois polity, with measures that
privileged the uses of print in order to erode the public and collective
character of oral and visual politics with a conception of politics as the
private affair of (male) individuals.61 Even in the more radical currents,
it seems that the cultures of writing and print were overburdened by
Enlightenment rationalism, which served to generate a field that was
somewhat desiccated in comparison to the pungent oratory and radi-
cal themes of the oral culture from the same quarter, as Iain McCalman
describes his disappointing experience of reading this press from the
181921 period.62 Returning to the twentieth century, radical print also
contains a troubling pedagogical orientation, in the ascendant model of
socialism as the raising of consciousness, a model accompanied by an
often hallowed respect for the intellectual and the corresponding division
between leaders and led. This is a division central to Lenins model of
the party and its textual plane of composition, the newspaper, with its
one-way communication between writer/party and reader/masses.63 It
is a division, as I consider in chapters 3 and 6, that was found as extreme
in the grotesque compound of intellectual and tyrant that characterized
state communist regimes, where the most philistine despot found himself
wreathed in the laurels of knowledge.64
Returning to Debray, the temporality of print has a significant place
in the further specification of his socialist media ecology. It took a full
twenty-five years for the first French edition of Capital to sell out, and
yet the slow take-up of Marx did not unduly affect the global impact of
his work. Marx was saved from oblivion, Debray asserts, by the back-
wardness of cultural circuits in relation to those of market production.65
If this notion of retarded cultural production is suspectI will argue
shortly that market relations were intrinsic to modern publishing from
the startcomparison between nineteenth-century publishing and now

lends support to his thesis. For the speed of turnover today is such that
books have little time with which to establish themselves in the market
before they are lost in the Niagara flow of publication, and beyond the
bounds of the book, the rapid cycle of obsolescence of online media is of
course intrinsic to its corporate and subjective forms.
With this comparison, we move into Debrays explanation for the
demise of the socialismprint ecology. It is the ubiquity of media that is
decisivein the form of television, though the inclusion of social media
(which postdates Debrays text) would not upset his thesis. Socialism,
Debray suggests, survives in its ability to carve out an independent mi-
lieu against a hostile environment; newspaper, party, clandestine cell,
counterculture are all constituted in relation to forces that besiege them
from the outside. But the ubiquitous media of television collapses that
separation: The homogenization of symbolic flows tends to dissolve
non-conformist nuclei into a common hegemonic gas. Television, now
the principal interface of all social groups, erodes the boundaries between
inside and out, and levels access to information.66 Without such boundar-
ies, socialism is lost in the ubiquity of information, as, it seems for Debray,
is all emancipatory politics, left behind in the predigital age: Behind
the re of reformation, republic, or revolution...there is a hand flicking
through the pages of a book, from the end to the beginning. Whereas the
finger that presses a button, fast-forwarding a tape or disc, will never pose
a danger to the establishment.67
Appealing as Debrays thesis is for its close attention to the material
forms and social lives of political textual media, it is considerably flawed.
Not least of its problems lies in interpreting the rise and fall of the work-
ers movement in this way exclusively through the lens of media form, for
it was a complex, overdetermined entity, fully interlaced with mutations
in capitalist social relations as a whole, and should be analyzed as such.
But if it is reductive to explain the collapse of the workers movement by
the rise of television, Debray is correct that the substantial social subject
that was the workers movement has met its end. There is a melancholic
quality to his assessment of the passing of this great fallen oak, but that
is not the way I understand it.68 The demise of the workers movement
would seem to be the end of the possibility of socialism understood as a

substantial subject, an independent or autonomous movement that in its
bounded sociopolitical forms, its identity, offers a living, breathing alter-
native to capitalism. But for the political perspective of Anti-Book, on the
contrary, the end of the workers movement (and the forms of Taylorist
and Fordist industrial capitalism of which it was the special product and
antagonist) is the condition for an invigorated communism. I will take a
moment to develop this point, to flesh out a little the references I make
in subsequent chapters to a communism without identity.
The temporal arc of Debrays media ecology broadly pertains to the
period and form of working-class struggles that the French communist
journal Thorie Communiste has called programmatism, where com-
munist futures were to be founded on social relations formed in present
modes of struggle, such that communism was the affirmation of an existent
proletarian subjectivity. In their words,
programmatism is...a theory and practice of class struggle in which

the proletariat finds, in its drive toward liberation, the fundamental ele-
ments of a future social organisation which become the programme to be
realised. This revolution is thus the affirmation of the proletariat, whether
as a dictatorship of the proletariat, workers councils, the liberation of
work, a period of transition, the withering of the state, generalised self-
management, or a society of associated producers.69
Marx in his more visionary moments pointed beyond the framework of

programmatism, positing the proletariat as the class not of self-affirmation
but of self-abolition. It is a formulation, as in this example from The Holy
Family, that crackles against his time and ours: The proletariat...is
compelled as proletariat to abolish itself and thereby its opposite, private
property, which determines its existence, and which makes it proletariat.
It is the negative side of the antithesis, its restlessness within its very self,
dissolved and self-dissolving private property.70 But up until the 1970s,
the nature of the class relation, or the capitalist organization of production
and reproduction, was such that the working class was socially deter-
mined to recognize itself as a positive identity, amassed and concentrated
in factories and industrial cities, and affirmed as such first through its
independent institutions, by which it gained organizational power and

social respectability, and later through its political and legal recognition
within the social democratic state. Under these conditions, the program
of revolution was carried within the working class on the basis of its role
as provider of labor. This is the transhistorical understanding of labor that
was intrinsic to the workers movement, labor that constitutes the social
world and is the source of all social wealth, as Moishe Postones critique
characterizes it.71 In so taking a historically specific feature of capitalism
alone to be a universal human condition, the resultant politics necessarily
took its field of contestation to be distribution of the products of labor and
not critique and abolition of labor and its subject, a new mode of politically
administering and economically regulating the same industrial mode of
production to which capitalism gave rise.72
Hence the apparent autonomy of the working class from capital, as
established in the institutions of the labor movement, turns out to have
been the specific form of its integration with capital, as its institutions and
motivations fashioned an affirmative subject out of that which was imposed
by capital and so all too easily came to merge with the motivations of
capitalist development. As such, the workers movement loses its way
not so much in being insufficiently revolutionary but in having a content
that was insufficiently differentiated from that of capitalist revolution.73 Of
this tendency, the state-led and totalitarian industrialization of the Soviet
Union, which far exceeded in rapidity what market capitalism could have
achieved, is the most acute moment, Bolshevik counterrevolution as
the accomplishment against [proletarians] of their revolution.74 This,
then, is the structural impasse of the workers movement, whereby the
proletariat seeks to liberate against capital its social strength which exists
in capital and exists there only.75 Even in its more radical variants that
come after 1917 as a challenge to the counterrevolution of Bolshevism,
communism was still formulated as a question of organizational form
most emblematically, the workers council versus the Leninist party
rather than as practical critique of the content of work and capitalist social
relations, or, it is the same thing, of itself as subject of labor.76
For Thorie Communiste and others in the communization current, it
is only now that this horizon of the affirmation of labor and the positivity
of working-class identity can be overcome, after the cycle of struggles

of the late 1960s and early 1970s (where the refusal of work within the
sphere of labor, and struggles over social reproduction among women,
racialized groups, and others structurally marginalized by that sphere,
signaled the crisis of the programmatic affirmation of workers identity)
and the subsequent restructuring through globalization and neoliberalism.
This is in large measure because what Marx called the real subsumption
of labor in capital has reached a stage where capital no longer needs an
affirmative subject of laborhaving found the rigidities of national labor
markets, the welfare state, collective wage bargaining, and so forth, to
be obstacles to valorizationand is instead increasingly self-positing.
There is simply no ground on which to found a positive and enduring
workers identity or to project its coming into being as a revolutionary
subject. The global fragmentation of labor; the long-term decline in real
wages; the move to the heart of the wage relation of flexibility, precar-
ity, and under-unemployment; the extension of super-exploitation and
informal work attendant on the tendential rise in surplus population
from all this comes the impossibility of the proletariat to relate to itself
positively against capital: the impossibility of proletarian autonomy.77 In
other words, classthe condition of needing to sell ones labor, whether
achieved or not, and of being dependent on those whose labor power
is enabled by the unpaid work of social reproductionis evacuated of
positive identity and becomes increasingly experienced as an external
imposition, and apparent as such.
This is of course experienced as a resounding defeat, that which
is registered in Debrays essay, but for Thorie Communiste, it is also a
considerable opportunity, for now the class relation has itself removed
the obstacle of the self-affirmation of workers identity. Grounding com-
munism in a defeat of this magnitude might sound like a parody of the
forced and deluded optimism of Trotskyist sects or of the progressive
logic of traditional Marxism, but communization theory is fully cognizant
that the prospects look brighter for barbarism than for communism. The
point, rather, is that if struggles amid our crisis of social reproduction tip
in anticapitalist directionsand the structural impasses presented to any
other route out of the crisis suggest that they just maythey will no longer
be caught by the self-defeating limit of workers identity, that communism

now cannot but be the immanent rupture of capitalist social relations.
But where, then, is communism located? If a program founded on the
affirmation of workers identity is now lost, communism turns instead on
encounters with the limits to identity, on the structural impasses, complici-
ties, and exclusions that condition sectoral identities, social movements,
racialized and gendered groups. Here the limit is less a boundary that
solicits transgression than the immanent horizon of self-overcoming.
It is the challenge to and dissolution of the subjectivities that populate
capitalist society as its integral product and necessary anchor, including
the identities of struggle. The theory of communization alerts us to the
limits inherent in...struggles, and indeed is attentive to the possibilities
of a real revolutionary rupture opening up because of, rather than in spite
of, those limits.78 And again, emphasizing now the seemingly paradoxical
presence of communization within struggles, communization occurs only
at the limit of a struggle, in the rift that opens as this struggle meets its
limit and is pushed beyond it.79 It may appear a surprising association,
but as a politics of limits, communization can thus be understood as a
sociohistorical specification of Maurice Blanchots characterization of the
wrenching nonidentity of communism: Communism is what excludes
(and excludes itself from) every already constituted community.80
Returning to our theme, how can we conceptualize the place of tex-
tual media in such a communism without identity? Clearly it cannot take
the shape of an integrated ecology of political subjects, institutions, and
autonomous media forms, for this is lost with the loss of the workers
movement. A communization media theoryto imagine such a thing
for a momentmight be expected to turn to the determinate conditions
and limits of the ideas, textual expressions, and media forms arising in
contemporary struggles and movements. But Anti-Book takes a different
approach, pivoting from the terrain of struggles to the terrain of textual
media, indexed as it is to experimental practices in media form. In this,
Anti-Book both shares features with and departs from communization
theory. It shares the insistence on the nonidentity of communism, com-
munism as the self-abolition of the proletariat that is immanent to the
social relations of capitalism. As such, the anti-book experiments explored
here emerge immanently to particular encounters between communist

thought and media form, as they draw into focus, trouble, and undo the
subjectivating and commodifying forms of textual media in capitalist so-
cieties. As a communist critique of writing and publishing, the anti-book
is situated, various, discontinuous, and resistant to effects of integration
and identity, even as, or because, it is caught up in the media relations
and forms of capitalism.
As to this books difference to communization theory, in being ground-
ed in experimental political publishing and not in struggles as such, the
nonidentity of communism is freed up to develop across diverse modali-
ties of sociomaterial beingsometimes developing in close proximity to
common themes in communist politics (when I take up the question of the
textual and authorial dimensions of the party, for example), other times
moving in less common arenas (regarding sensory relations to objects,
diagrammatic modeling, the passional dimensions of signs, the indirect
voice of myth and media editorial). And while I associate these with a
communism against and beyond workers identity, they are not indexed
to it as the outcome of a determining structural limit of the present mo-
ment. Indeed, taking advantage of the discontinuities and experimental
pockets of the history of writing and publishing, I mostly draw examples
of anti-book practice from periods that were broadly conditioned by the
programmatic form of workers identity. Some of these projects arose in
critical scenes that intimated the critique of this identity, in others the
challenge was more direct, while some had no direct relation to communist
thought at all but have much to offer an expanded communism of textual
matter all the same.
In none of this does Anti-Book suggest a prefigurative theory of com-
munist media; I contend only that communist writing and publishing, in
its immanent critique of the forms of capitalist media, can be developed
beyond the domains and powers of ideas and concepts alone to become
a more fully materialist site of experimental practice. In their small way,
these practices articulate a wrenching pull toward postcapitalist modes
of being but are only this insofar as they operate amid the conditions of
lifeor of writing and publishingdetermined by the capitalist mode
of production. To enumerate the features of such practices and group
them here under the abstraction of the anti-book would contradict the
aim of this concept to push in the other direction, to encourage attention
to the specificities of particular projects. Instead I want to move now to
situate the broad argument of this book in opposition to two aspects of
textual media: the textual form of the manifesto, which could plausibly
be described as the primary textual correlate of programmatism, of the
workers movement as historical subject; and the capitalist structures of
mediated communication, in social media and in the history of the book.
Anti-M anifesto
My casual opening remark that Anti-Book is not a manifesto could have

taken a more systematic form, and with some cause. For the anti-book
breaks with this mode of political writing that has for so long, and all
too easily, been adopted by leftists that it is as if it is the natural form for
self-consciously political writing to take. What, then, is this textual form,
and what is wrong with it? In its revolutionary or avant-garde mode, the
manifesto is a purloined textual form, appropriated from the institutions
of state and church where it served as a means to disseminate injunctions
backed by force. As with its form in such institutions, the revolutionary
manifesto articulates authority, and yet this authority is of a peculiar kind,
for it is wholly fabricated, having no basis in existent institutional power.
This feature is patently clear in Marx and Engelss Communist Mani-
festo, arguably the founding text of this modern genre of radical writing.
One need simply to juxtapose its claims to meet the nursery tale of the
Spectre of Communism with a Manifesto of the party itself, a manifesto
that proclaims no less than the inevitable triumph of world communist
revolution, with the actuality of its birth, initial impact, and institutional
setting, as a work commissioned by a few dozen migr radicals in the
back room of a London pub and which, after some influence in the 1848
German revolutions, went largely unnoticed for some twenty years.81
This gap between claim and reality must be overcome if the manifestos
proclamations are to hold any plausibility, and it is this overcoming that
is key to the manifestos specific textual procedures, hitched, as Martin
Puchner has argued, to a particular subjective form.82
The modern manifesto works by constructing a political subject

through the diagnosis and presentation of the subjects historical emer-
gence and future actualization. In turn, in a performative loop, this pro-
jected future flourishing of the subject lends authority to the text in the
present where the subject is lacking. The manifesto works, in other words,
in the future perfect; its claim to authority in the present will have been
sanctioned by the actualization of its subject in the future. It is a perfor-
mance for which a certain theatricalitythe staging of the authority that
it lacksis at once necessary and necessarily ever excised.
Yet the manifesto is a decidedly twentieth-century textual form, one
made redundant not so much by the waning of its performative power
caused by overrepetition (though boredom with the manifesto form must
surely set in eventually) but by the historical loss of any referent that might
plausibly serve as its subject.83 For a communism, and a state of global
struggles, that operates through the immanent rupture of identity rather
than the programmatic coming to presence of a collective subject, the
manifesto form is politically ineffectual, without purchase on the condi-
tions of social being. And yet, perhaps in concentrating on the classical
form established by Marx and Engels, I have taken the manifestos struc-
ture too literally and missed the particular qualities it has taken in other
contexts. It is worth considering the arguments of some of the manifestos
advocates, pertaining to the twentieth-century avant-garde and feminist
writing. Shifting our attention to the avant-garde, Alain Badiou makes
the case that a manifesto is a rhetorical envelope that protects and
nurtures something other than what it overtly names or announces.84 Its
function is not to realize its promise per se but to devote every energy
to the otherwise precarious and almost indistinct nature of real action
in the present, action that has the evental or convulsive quality of the
coincidence of its instantiation with its undoing.85 For Badiou, then, we
should not be surprised by the correlation between vanishing works and
staggering programmes, for it is precisely the ephemeral quality of real
action, and not a coming substantial subject as such, that the manifesto
envelopes and offers to the future.86
It is an appealing formulation, though one that should be treated with
some circumspection. On shifting scale from the rhetorical structure of
the manifestos emerging subject to the more micro and intimate level
of the vanishing works it nurtures, it is not at all clear that the mani-
festos claim is in fact so radically altered. For the avant-garde manifesto
is historically indexed less to precarious and almost indistinct evental
action than the identitarian tendencies of vanguard organizations, where
the group functions like a microcosm of the announced subject that, in the
latters absence, it must stand in for as substitute. As often as not, these
staggering programmes have been alloyed with subjectivities that are
as equally staggering in their pompous self-regard. Here the manifesto
form has been more a means of establishing the ideology, subjectivity, and
boundaries of vanguard groups than of confirming their evental undoing,
with the concomitant tendency to degenerate, as Debord has it, into party
patriotism, theoretical paralysis, and wooden language as the group
calcifies against the exterior world that it must of necessity appraise as
distinct and hostile or as having fallen short of its idea.87
However appealing is Badious formulation of the manifesto as a
textual agent of the convulsive event, partisans of the latter would do bet-
ter, then, not to seek a new manifesto but to subtract this integrating and
self-bolstering textual form from the field of political writingto create
one manifesto less, in Deleuzes framingso as to reflect and confirm
the demise of the unitary political subject and, with it, the politics of the
avant-garde.88 That said, something of a subtractive procedure can be
conducted within the manifesto form itself, through a deconstruction or
ironizing of its formal techniques and subjective patterns, now shifting us
to a third mode of manifesto production. Janet Lyon and Kathi Weeks have
argued compellingly that this has been a route often pursued in feminist
manifestos, with Donna Haraways Cyborg Manifesto, for example,
standing out as an indubitable success.89 Attention to such ironizing textual
procedures in particular manifestos would work against the weight of my
discussion of the manifesto thus far, which has presented only a conceptual
formalization. To correct this in line with the method of Anti-Book would
necessitate engaging not only with the textual procedures and quali-
ties of particular manifestos but also with their extratextual dimensions,
their many materialities. As an indication of what this might entail, we
can consider the singular example of Valerie Solanass SCUM Manifesto.
As all self-respecting manifestos, Solanass text launches against its

object with a vertiginous clarion call: Life in this society being, at best,
an utter bore and no aspect of society being at all relevant to women, there
remains to civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to over-
throw the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete
automation and eliminate the male sex.90 Yet the subject that is indicated
here, and unfurls riotously through the texts pages, functions as much
to undercut the standard revolutionary agent of the manifesto form as it
does to establish any kind of proto-separatist constituency. The apparent
universality of the political subject of the generic manifesto is achieved
in no small part by hiding its gender particularity, a task performed in the
abstraction of gender neutrality. In this it shares the gendered structure
of the bourgeois public sphere, as Melissa D. Deem describes it, whose
logics of invisibility and abstraction render the male body invisible while
simultaneously condemning the female to hyperembodiment.91 In SCUM
Manifesto, that abstract universality is overturned by Solanass vicious
particularization of the male body as a decrepit and debased biosocial form.
Conversely, freewheeling SCUM womenfunky, dirty, low-down SCUM
gets aroundwho have seen the whole show of embodied sexuality,
take on, in Deems words, the frictionless role previously reserved
for men.92 Yet the chance of establishing an alternative subject on these
grounds is simultaneously undercut by the excision of all but a handful of
women who would meet the exacting standards of the texts Society for
Cutting Up Men. For the effect of this is less to establish a privileged point
of aggregation, a SCUM groupuscule, than to undo the subject of woman,
to remove the possibility that this subject might act as a living alterna-
tive to patriarchal society, because that would be a brake on the situated
unfurling of feminist politics. As Lyon acutely frames it, and in a manner
resonant with my preceding discussion of the nonidentity of communism,
Solanass we is strategically singular: anything more inclusive would

preclude the possibility for random action in the name of feminist anar-
chism; anything more inclusive would fix identity, thwart performativity,
register a sexed normativity. Anything more inclusive would, in short, reify
a category called women whose political history would most certainly
outstrip its utopian possibilities.93
That is the textual effect of SCUM Manifesto, or a part of it, but what
of its broader sociomaterial forms? Commercially published by Maurice
Girodiass Olympia Press in August 1968, shortly after Solanass near-fatal
shooting of Andy Warhol, this book did a considerable job of refashion-
ing and reduction of Solanass material text. At least, Solanas objected
to it. In 1977, she committed the most unusual act of defacing the copy
(Olympia Presss second edition) held by New York Public Library, in effect
disowning her published work by striking out the authors name on the
covers and replacing it with that of Girodias, a move that is all the more
arresting for the extent to which the looming face on the cover binds the
book to Solanas as author (Plate 1). But this was a commercial publishers
construction of the author. Girodias was guilty, Solanas wrote here, with
an intensive script that in places punctures the page, of inflicting sabotag-
ing typos on the text (the addition of punctuation in the S.C.U.M. of the
title for one, and as Breanne Fahs describes it, the removal of her playful
and erratic use of punctuation, grammatically distorted sentences, and
marginalia).94 And Solanass defacement of the book moves also against
the marketing of dissent: against the books market-oriented form as a
work of scandal, as secured in the first Olympia Press editions salacious
and opportunistic paratextual framing through the Warhol shooting, and
against its positioning in relation to an existent subjectivity of Womens
Liberation militants, as the aim of Vivian Gornicks introduction is
described on the back cover, with this collectivity and Gornicks name
receiving at Solanass hand the appellation flea.95
By contrast, the first edition of SCUM Manifesto, published in fall
1967, is a considerably more awkward entity, a luminously scummy cre-
ation, as Sara Warner and Mary Jo Watts have it.96 It has qualities that
were neither captured nor preserved by the Olympia edition, the latter
functioning more as an act of substitution and erasure than of publication,
or as publication as manipulation and sabotage, to adopt the terms of
Solanass defacement.97 Her first edition was a self-published mimeograph
of 21 A4 pages, stapled once at the top left. In contrast to Olympia Presss
perfect-bound book, it carries something of the ephemeral and viscerally
noncommercial quality intrinsic to much radical and fringe publishing
of the time, with its covers adorned not with the consumer-seducing
visage but a rather more estranging typed-text comprising the authors

name, the works title, a brief abstract, the publication date, and (I will
comment on this anomaly shortly) a copyright notice.98 Reading across
the critical and popular works devoted to Solanas, it is apparent that the
ephemeral quality of this edition holds considerable attraction, and in
ways that are not always progressive. Dana Heller shows that in Mary
Harrons Solanas biopic, I Shot Andy Warhol (1996), the ephemerality
of the manifesto (blurry mimeographed pages lost in the gutters of the
1960s, as Harron imagined it) is commandeered to figure the decline and
eclipse of print media and radical writing at the expense of the ascending
order of the image.99 Here Solanas and her encounter with Warhol are not
taken up within the complexities of her situation but are simply made to
personify the losing party in a confrontation of technologies of cultural
reproduction, the poverty of print [that] cannot possibly stand up to the
opulence of the silkscreen, the originality and impermanence of print
that fails against the enduring order of Factory-reproduced images.100
As Heller points out, that Solanas would likely not have apprehended
her story and that of radical print media in this way is starkly apparent
from the considerable emphasis SCUM Manifesto places on new technol-
ogy, its vision of a world in which mechanization and systems of mass
(re)production would render work, sexual intercourse, and the money
system obsolete.101
I develop a more critical account of print ephemerality in chapter 2,
but to continue the discussion of Solanass manifesto, let us agree that
ephemerality is not in itself enough to constitute the self-published edi-
tion as a SCUMMY thing, to use a phrase that Warner has unearthed
from Solanass archive, an extratextual articulation of her politics.102 For
that, other aspects of her manifesto must come into play, of which I will
consider only the relation of writing to money and workor unwork,
as the manifesto describes the sabotage of labor.103
Solanass material text was interlaced with money, but in embodied,
gendered, and proletarian ways somewhat different from the articulation
of money in the Olympia Press edition. She sold it by mail order and on
the streets of Greenwich Village priced at $2 for men and $1 for women,
thus performing a reversal of the gender inequality that is intrinsic to
the universal equivalent of money.104 This performance gains traction

because money had an inescapable hold on Solanass life and writing,
the street-corner and mail order sales of her texts serving, albeit rather
unsuccessfully, to finance her precarious and often homeless existence,
along with panhandling, prostitution, and the occasional writers fee.105
We see this hold and its contradictions poetically displayed if we contrast
Solanass efforts to repel a political constituency of sympathetic readers
following the hitherto discussed logic of the manifestos textwith her
mocking invitation to her enemies to sell a 1977 self-published edition
as quasi-commodity. The following is taken from two different adver-
tisements that she placed in Village Voice and the feminist newsletter
Majority Report:
Olympia Press went bankrupt and the publishing rights to SCUM Mani-
festo reverted to me, Valerie Solanas, so Im issuing the CORRECT
edition, MY edition of SCUM Manifesto....
Ill let anybody who wants to hawk itwomen, men, Hare Krishna,
Daughters of the American Revolution, the American Legion. Maurice
Girodias, youre always in financial straits. Heres your big chanceHawk
SCUM Manifesto. You can peddle it around the massage parlor district.
Anita Bryant, finance your anti-fag campaign selling the only book worth
sellingSCUM Manifesto. Andy Warhol, peddle it at all those hot shit
parties you go to....
Everybody, make big money selling the anti-money system SCUM
Manifesto. Dont defend it, dont interpret it, dont even like it. Just sell
it! sell it! sell it!106
Solanass steadfast commitment to copyrighting her text can also be seen

in this context.107 It is a contradictory and depoliticizing move to copyright
a manifesto, claiming individual proprietary rights over a text that purports
to speak from a position of universality, but as Solanass proprietorial
claim departs from the politics of the manifesto form, it finds a place in
the proletarian condition of her writing, her effort against all odds to be a
writer and to earn a living as such. Solanas wrote to survive, while seeking
means of survival that freed her up to write. Writing as work, writing as
an escape from workthese pull in different directions, certainly, but both
carry Solanass political reversal of her abject existence that is the fulcrum
of SCUM in its nonacronym mode, a politics apparent for example in

her text A Young Girls Primer on How to Attain the Leisure Class. It
was published initially in the Playboy-esque magazine Cavalier in 1966
(under a different title) and then compiled with her play Up Your Ass in a
self-published SCUM Book, as is the handwritten imprimatur.108 This
primer poses the typically feminine dilemma of carving out...in a
male world a way of life appropriate to a young girl of taste, cultivation,
and sensitivity, to which it offers the somewhat less orthodox solutions
of panhandling, charging for conversation, shoplifting, and prostitution:
There must be nothing crasslike work. However, a girl must sur-
vive.109 Hawking her textual product on the streets was not so different
from panhandlinga reversal of abjection that is here mediated by self-
published print. And yet it was clearly no solution to her condition. The
abject reality of Solanass life displays the gendered and classed nature
of writing, or the impasse that the cruel amalgam of gender and class can
present to writing, an impasse that was no doubt confirmed for Solanas in
the occasional moments of interest in her writing from those who could
provide access to a marketfrom Girodias, Warhol, the Village Voiceas
she fell back into abjection from encounters that could not, in any case,
have had outcomes adequate to the impossible subject of her manifesto.
Shooting Warhol may have been as much a product of the limits to womens
proletarian writing, a magical solution, as it was of Solanass critique of
men, of a propensity to violence, or of mental instability (not that these
dimensions of her life were unrelated). It was a magical solution she put
into words in a subsequent phone call to Warhol: I want you to drop all
criminal charges, pay twenty thousand dollars for my manuscripts, put
me in more movies and get me booked on Johnny Carson. If you dont, I
can always do it again.110
It is apparent, then, that the modern political subject of the mani-
festo can be successfully unworked and that shifting from the terrain of
a manifestos text to its sociomaterial relations allows other qualities and
effects of writing and publishing to come into view and open to political
intervention. And yet even in such ironizing achievements, the manifestos
subject remains, negatively, as the object of critique, acting as a constrain-
ing attractor, a situation that leaves ironizing manifestos ever more without
purchase the more the subject they undo is itself undone by the social
relations that remove the grounds of its existence. Unlike the subjects
of the classical and avant-garde manifesto, feminist problematization of
subjectivity and the conditions of collectivity is of course sociopolitically
salient, but its passage and intervention in textual form is, I would argue,
no longer best taken by the manifesto. Describing Haraways adoption
of the manifesto form as perhaps an obvious choice, given the socialist
feminist intent of the text, Weeks quotes Lyon thus: To write a manifesto
is to announce ones participation, however discursive, in a history of
struggle against oppressive forces.111 But what happens when the obvious
choice is not taken, when the political dimensions of writing and publish-
ing are developed in altogether different directions? One might respond
that the solution to the limits of the manifesto is to turn attention from
the textual content of manifestos to their material qualities and effects
the direction I have taken regarding Solanas, or that I take in chapter 4,
regarding the anonymous authorship of the Communist Manifestobut
that begs the question, why, then, write manifestos at all, and not develop
textual procedures of more critically inventive and pertinent kinds? This
book concerns these other kinds of experiments with text and media
form, though for now, I will continue a little more with a critique of the
manifesto, so as to situate it more firmly in the contemporary conjuncture,
specifically in the media dimensions of recent struggles.
A certain dissatisfaction with manifestos plays out in Declaration, a
recent e-pub pamphlet by Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri on the global
uprisings of 2011. The media form of Declaration exhibits political quali-
ties. Written and published amid upheaval and crisis, of which it seeks
to diagnose dominant features, it was self-published, priced cheaply at
99, and initially available only digitally, as if to match the urgency of the
text with speed of distributionthough, as others have noted, unlike
much of the online critical material associated with the crisis, Declara-
tion still requires monetary exchange, is subject to a copyright license,
and is bound to the proprietary format of Kindle.112 There is a certain
urgency also in its graphic design, with the stripped-back cover based
on the first page of textin Courier font with the title picked out, as if
on the hoof, in yellow highlightpulling in the reader without delay.113
Given our habits, these are design qualities that might well indicate to
readers that they are encountering a manifesto, but Hardt and Negri are
quick to disabuse that assumption, opening Declaration with the words
This is not a manifesto.114 Manifestos, they continue, provide a
glimpse of a world to come and also call into being the subject of that
world. They work like the ancient prophets, who by the power of their
vision create their own people. But this form has reached its terminus,
Hardt and Negri suggest, because contemporary social struggles have
reversed the order, making manifestos and prophets obsolete. Agents of
change have already descended into the streets and occupied city squares,
not only threatening and toppling rulers but also conjuring visions of
a new world.115
For all that this resonates with my argument, Hardt and Negris
explanation of the manifestos obsolescence is not wholly adequate. It is
itself too consonant with the formal structure of the manifesto: the pro-
jected people have now arrived, can create their own visions, and hence
no longer have need of the manifestos projections. It is not that Hardt
and Negri are incorrect in observing a more immanent relation between
the textual output of recent strugglesthe Arab Spring, the Spanish
Indignados, Occupy, and others in the movement of the squaresand
their grassroots actors, a more tactical than representational orientation to
this media. Prominent exemplars are the Egyptian pamphlet How to Revolt
Intelligentlywhich seemed to strike a chord for its use of diagrams to
circulate tactics rather than text to describe ideological goalsOccupys
refusal to make representational demands, and the significant place of
social media in recent political organization. The U.S. movement against
the murderous structural racism of police and state, known for a time
through the Twitter hashtag #BlackLivesMatter, is a crucial example of
the latter, as was the use of social media in reporting the Israeli states
maiming and murder of Palestinians in Gaza in JulyAugust 2014, a partial
outmaneuvering of the formidable Israeli propaganda machine.116 But while
this more immanent mode of textual political mediation does indeed seem
to have navigated past the manifesto mode of political representation, it
hardly describes the arrival of a self-representing subject, a conclusion
all the more confirmed as the Arab Spring became contained and overrun
by highly repressive regimes. Rather than declare the realization of the

manifesto form, we would do better to move outside of its explanatory
and rhetorical structures altogether.
Against Communication
Hardt and Negri do in fact make tracks in this direction, for there is a
second dimension to their assessment of contemporary media politics, a
call to intervene immanently in the media forms of contemporary com-
munication. Elsewhere in Declaration, they pick up on the critique of
communication that Deleuze develops in his analysis of control society.117
Speech and communication have been corrupted, Deleuze remarks in a
1990 interview with Negri. Theyre thoroughly permeated by money
and not by accident but by their very nature.118 And, in another text: If
there is no debasement of information, it is because information itself is
a debasement.119 In part, this describes communication as command, the
reduction of expression to the linear exchange of unambiguous signals,
whereby the signifying field is flooded with clichs and order-words, a
psychomechanics of automatic response.120 But it also entails a popular
compulsion to communicate: Repressive forces dont stop people express-
ing themselves, but rather force them to express themselves.121 A dozen
years before the rise to dominance of the compulsive communication of
social media, this is an impressionistic yet prescient observation. Draw-
ing on it, Hardt and Negri argue that the diffusion of social media and its
integration with socioeconomic life have created a dominant subjective
form of the mediatized, a fragmented and distracted capitalist subjec-
tivity absorbed in a perpetual present of communication, participation,
feedback, and attention.
Here they are in the company of a significant body of research that has
addressed the capitalist dimensions of social media, the co-implication of
mediated sociality and subjectivization with new forms of commercial cap-
ture and control. Jodi Deans cogent critique in Blog Theory and elsewhere
of the subjective forms of what she calls communicative capitalism, for
example, attends to something like a preconscious compulsion encoded
in the sociotechnical infrastructures of social media, with the real time
immediacy of attention, connection, and user production that is inscribed

in each platforms mundane functionality, front-loaded as they are with
status and timeline functions that incite users interaction.122 In the
ever additive pursuit of links, likes, comments, followers, friends, shares,
page views, and so on, the act and quantitative volume of communication
come to displace what is communicated, a kind of general equivalence
of indiscriminate communication: unlike a message, which needs to
be understood, a contribution is just an addition, a fundamental com-
municative equivalence where each message is communicatively equal
to any other.123 And this comes with its own affective bind, as users are
captured in compulsive repetition, fueled by tiny affective nuggets, a
smidgen of attention from each communicative act, momentarily reliev-
ing the ambient anxiety that is part and parcel of curating a successful
personal profile, a profile that is in turn at once a training ground for the
entrepreneurial self and a weak compensation for otherwise precarious
lives.124 True, the point can be overstated; meaning remains, though now
in a slippery and ephemeral form, and biographical narrative is key to the
self-disclosure intrinsic to Facebook, for example, as Beverley Skeggs
and Simon Yuill stress.125 But these serve social medias infrastructural
imperative of quantitative expansion, not the other way around.
A book such as mine on the many materialities of text would not
proceed far if it opposed mediatized subjectivity and extralinguistic as-
sociation per se; the problem is that this is an incapacitated subjectivity,
which is reciprocally constituted with a particular business model, one
integral to its software architecture. As Robert W. Gehl and others have
shown, users produce, supply, and rank online media content for free,
at once generating the content that attracts user attention and granular
marketing data about the tastes, preferences, trends, and values associ-
ated with that attention, to be sold and mined as differentiated audience
to advertisers, now in real time.126 Hence, on one side of the interface,
social media compels compulsive individuation and self-disclosure, while
on the other side, it generates revenue by simultaneously dividuating that
data into multiple aggregate representations to be monetized as targeted
ad space, as Skeggs and Yuill put it.127 And, in the case of Facebook, this
economic model is integrated with financialization through stock trading
based on monopoly control of its data, tax avoidance, and diversification

and expansion well beyond the firms original structure, including into
mobile communications infrastructure, financial services, and drone
technology.128 Social media, then, is class media, as Dean stymies the
cozy associations of this collective noun.129
All this incitement to communicate on the technical and affective
plane of the interface dovetails with the heralded values of our time, as
discourses of participation, communicative democracy, and freedom
of expression offer no line of opposition but serve to further arouse
and sanctify our communicative subjection.130 That the multi-billion-
dollar information firms such as Google, Apple, and Facebook emblazon
themselves with such values (while of course resolutely guarding their
proprietorial rights to data) should be indication enough of the need for
circumspection. Granted, one might respond with good reason that social
media nonetheless offers ample possibility for political use by those with
different values, namely, that it enables greater and broader access to the
production, dissemination, and consumption of critical news and ideas;
speedy and networked modes of organization at local and transnational
scales; rerouting around corporate news agendas; and rapid circulation
and intensification of political passions. The examples given earlier of
Occupy, the Arab Spring, and #BlackLivesMatter illustrate these points.
Yet too often in celebrating activist and political use of social media,
analysis fails to attend to the way that nominally critical use can leave
untroubled, or even extend, social medias incapacitating subjective and
economic forms.131
I register here this critique of the subjective forms and business models
of social media communication, forms and models to which Anti-Book is
opposed, but this book does not add to this burgeoning research field. My
focus, rather, is on critical alternatives, and those that are often located, as
I argue toward the end of this chapter, in post-digital domains adjacent
to digital media. On this terrain of experimental textual matter, the critics
of social media tend to make less headwaythough see the important
research associated with Amsterdams Institute of Network Cultures,
especially the Unlike Us network, and Coventry Universitys Centre for
Disruptive Media.
I will continue with Dean here, because as well as providing a cogent

critique of communicative capitalism, she is a prominent figure in the
recent return to communism in political theory that has been associ-
ated with Badiou and iek, and so we might reasonably look here for a
communist media practice.132 Yet while Dean is herself a keen blogger of
radical content, her formulation of communism is organized around a stark
dichotomy between media activity and direct action, where the former
disperses in amorphous circuits of compulsive communication and the
latter concentrates a collective subject in physical space that institutes a
division or cut in the status quo, a cut that is necessarily also enacted
with the circuits of social media.133 In response to what must be a nagging
question of whether there are any possibilities for a media politics that
does not merely circulate contributions, Dean evokes an apparent range
of options, but they are hardly convincing, even I think to her: from
the cultivation of critical media competencies and local, face-to-face,
street-level activism to the organization of covert cells of communist
hackers.134
One more possible means of a counter media practice is noted in
Blog Theory, that of the medium of the book, which Dean comes to while
marking the apparent perversity of using a book, with its slow writing and
publishing schedules, to develop a critique of social media, with its rapid
technological transformations and revelry in the ever new. But herein lies
its political value. The books very slowness, she argues, enacts the cut in
circuits of compulsive communication that enables thought to emerge, a
structure of intervention that she intriguingly associates with the slow-
down, from the classical repertoire of workplace struggle: As an object
whose form installs delays in sampling and syndication and whose content
demands postponed gratification, the book mobilizes the gap of mediacy
so as to stimulate thought.135
Appealing though this point is for shifting attention to media forms
adjacent to social media, it has two significant problems. First, as a move
into media politics, it is woefully dematerialized. Whereas capital requires
intricate and complex technoaffective mediations to arouse, interpolate,
and nullify human biosociality in communicative patterns conducive to
its perpetuation, here the books politics lies only in the possibility of
better thought, whose ground is a subject refounded on signification

(the return to symbolic identity against the rootless imaginary identity
of social media, in Deans Lacanian formulation).136 If unconvincing, it has
a certain logic in her argument. Having made the strongest of cases for the
critique of media form, where critical content is rendered irrelevant, or
worse (because it fuels the subjective compulsions and market paradigms
of communicative capitalism no less than any other content), Dean seeks
to found a media politics on content now shorn of media form. But how,
then, is content to be generated and carried, beyond immediate face-to-
face activism? Here the book steps in as a medium that facilitates thought
and meaning without getting in the waya medium perfectly married to
the signifying forms and capacities that it apparently carries. This leads
to the second problem, for if the book is hence a medium without any
medium-effects, as it were, it is implicitly a medium outside of capitalist
social relations, relations that would be grasped in and through an ap-
preciation of its media form. But in fact the medium of the book has the
strongest of capitalist pedigrees, as I consider in what follows. This is
not to say that there is no mileage in investigating the comparative speed
and slowness of different media formsindeed, it is a feature of my argu-
ment in subsequent chaptersbut to appeal to the slowness of books as
facilitator of thought, while leaving their capitalist forms untouched, is
clearly inadequate for a communist media politics.
In any case, is the medium of the book today really so slow? The
intermediation of textual media and the broader communicative patterns
of contemporary capitalism are such that books cannot be understood as
actually so separate from the compulsions and anxieties of the social media
field, the temporal take-over of theory [which] displaces sustained critical
thought, replacing it with the sense that there isnt time for thinking.137
Insofar as books, particularly those by writers with high social media pro-
files, are reviewed and promoted in social media and marketed through
the promotional algorithms of Amazon, Facebook, and the like, the book
demands to be understood less as a cut from communicative capitalism
than as a particularly effective vehicle for extending it, multiplying con-
nectivity, feeding communicative compulsions, and exhausting readers
(and authors too, no doubt) in equal measure.
Book as Commodity
Notwithstanding the intensity and extent of the capitalization of commu-

nicative capacities and mediums today, it is not a new phenomenon. I want
to take a little time to sketch how the commodity form has accompanied
the medium of the book since the inception of modern capitalism, for, as I
indicated earlier, the point is often missed. The pages of Anti-Book explore
many and various formal and material features of writing and publishing
against the commodity forms of textual media, but an understanding of
the more generic condition of the book qua commodity can stand as a
background to this study of anti-book publishing, a condition that later
chapters gesture toward as they make their particular arguments or that
they refine and extend in specific contexts.
There is a strong tendency in the popular imaginary to see books and
the culture of text as forms and practices that transcend the realms of
capital; it is, Ted Striphas suggests, one of the most entrenched myths
of contemporary book culture.138 If the spiritual quality of the book plays
a part here, as I discuss in chapter 3, it is also a function of the broad ten-
dency of capitalist societies to accord works of culture a transcendent
value beyond that of economic utility (a value that in reality is far from
extraeconomic, being interlaced with class distinction and functioning as
rationale and resource in any number of state and corporate schemes of
governance, plunder, and profit).139 Of this tendency, books are perhaps
the privileged instance, so much identified as repository and receptacle of
cultureof the intellectual, moral, and aesthetic good and truethat they
become indistinct from it.140 This transcendence of books does not happen
all by itself, of course, but is a discourse that has played a central part in
institutions of the book and learning, not least the publishing business.
As Trish Travis argues, publishing has couched its advanced industry in
a discourse that presents books as objects immune to commodification,
goods which pretend not to be goods at all.141
It is not a uniform picture, however. Laura J. Miller makes a nuanced case
for considering the supposedly extraeconomic, elevated culture of books
to have been historically achieved by drawing distinctions against certain
classes of books, those books associated with the young, the working class,
and women (dime novels, romances), whose commercial nature was this
time foregrounded, proffered as index of their appeal to base and popular
desires, as books that reduc[ed] culture to a profane commodity while
emphasizing whatever would appeal to the largest audiences.142 It is an
important reminder that critique of the commodity form of the book needs
to be careful so as not to replicate the tropes of bourgeois distinction.
Yet this observation does nothing to challenge the fact that print,
popular and elite, existed from its earliest days as an industry, governed
by the same rules as any other industry, where the book was first and
foremost a piece of merchandise, as Febvre and Martin decisively
put it in their canonical study of the emergence of the printed book.143
And in this, books have by no means been reluctant players; books have
not only kept up the pace, as any good commodity, but have often been
quite the innovators across numerous fields. Indeed, the printed book
was the first uniform and repeatable mass industrial commoditynot
comprising measured quantities of indeterminate volumes, as Benedict
Anderson clarifies the point with regard to other early industrial com-
modities such as textiles or sugar, but a volume in its own right, a distinct
and self-contained object.144 In combining moveable alphabetic type (a
repurposing of metal-processing techniques employed since antiquity
for minting coins) with a mechanical press (as adapted from that used
in pressing wine), the Gutenberg letterpress shifted the manufacture
of books from the self-directed movements of the scribe to mechanical
process, subject to the rhythm of the machine, and so marked the line
of division between medieval and modern technology.145
We see in this also the proximity of printing to the move during the
late eighteenth century to constitute and divide intellectual and manual
labor, as was integral to the emergence of the capitalist form of abstract
labor, toward the creation and generalization of which mechanical process
was oriented. As such, the mechanical press enabled a transformation in
the organization of labor as work tasks took on the quality of the assembly
line, subdivided according to roles and parts in the production chain, and
subject to the dictates of productivity that the conjunction of mechanism
and time enforced. For example, at the close of the sixteenth century, it
has been estimated that a pressman, one role in the print workshop, had
to take off on average twenty-five hundred sheets in a fourteen-hour day,

a rate of one sheet every twenty seconds.146 This is probably a consider-
able overestimation; we should avoid projecting the extent, uniformity,
and intensity of todays division of labor into the past, as D.F. McKenzie
counsels.147 But the theoretical principle of the transformation of labor
associated with mechanical print is not in doubt, and by the 1830s, this
was established to the extent that it was the copperplate engraving of the
printing trade (and not, say, the textile mill) to which Charles Babbage
turned to illustrate the logic of modern industrial production (in his
theories of mechanical process and the division of labor that informed
Marxs analysis of the same in the Grundrisse).148 Tending toward unifor-
mity and equivalence, books could now be manufactured in considerable
quantities, as is what happened; it appears that between 12 million and 20
million books were printed before 1500 alone, a mere half-century after
the invention of the Gutenberg press.149
This movement toward abstract labor in the print house was inter-
laced with developments in the labor of writing, which took a different
direction. As Tim Ingold has argued, efforts to decompose skill into the
creative intelligence and imagination of art, on the one hand, and the
habitual bodily technique of artisanal labor, on the other, revolved in
large measure around the status of engraving, whose natural affiliations
[were henceforth seen to] lay with the printing trade, with labor and
technological reproduction.150 From the late eighteenth century, the writer
thus came to be seen as an author rather than as a scribe, divorced from
the multisensory production of lines to instead become a composer
of intellectual texts, an author engaged in verbal composition.151 In
contrast, the job of the printer became merely to run off innumerable
copies of the authors work. The author became a literary artist, the
printer a typographic artisan.152
If we move from the production of books to the complementary pole,
we find, as part of the nexus of capitalist social relations of which the
mechanical press was both product and bearer, that the mass production
of print is contiguous with the first signs of mass consumption. Indeed,
the rise of the bourgeois class, with its expanding demand for technical
and literary text, was a significant social push for the invention of the
Gutenberg press, the latter a technical solution to a social problem that was
taxing inventive minds all across Europe.153 Once established, early print
media were associated with a host of mechanisms for the maintenance
and cultivation of reading publics, from the simultaneous production of
different books so as to avoid heavy losses if one failed to concentration on
best sellers, of which Martin Luthers texts were perhaps the first, binding
together Protestantism and the early print industry (a conjunction I return
to in chapter 4 through Luther Blissetts novel Q ).154 The publication of
heretical texts, for which publishers could be put to death, was also as
much a question of meeting demand and cultivating marketsespecially
necessary at times of economic downturn, when demand for books would
rapidly fall offas it was an expression of political aims or any other of
the desires and values that were amalgamated in the decision to publish.
The printed book was closely associated also with the development of
copyright, for which the author-functionwith its associated cultural
values of individual creativity and originalityemerges as product
and guarantor, as I discuss in chapter 4.
All the same, my emphasis on the printcapitalism nexus should not
indicate indistinction between the two, blinding us to the variations and
contradictions of this nexus or its relative density as compared with other
industrial sectors. Although the book industry has played a pioneering
role in the development of capitalist production and consumption, it has
not always been at the leading edge. Indeed, its socioeconomic structure
remained wedded to petty-commodity production for some time after gen-
eralized commodity exchange had taken hold elsewhere. In the develop-
ment of its specifically modern form, a pivotal role is played by copyright.
The Statute of Anne (1709) and the series of legal decisions culminating in
the judgment of Donaldson v. Becket (1774) shifted copyright from a right
of the publisher to make physical copies to the right of the author over the
text as incorporeal property.155 Henceforth, textthe labor and product
of writingwas an alienable commodity like any other, a development
that N.N. Feltes shows to have been integral to the nineteenth-century
shift from the petty-commodity production of books as luxury goods to
generalized commodity exchange, with the arrival of what he calls the
commodity-text.156 Here, mass-produced books and mass bourgeois
readership were constituted in simultaneous and reciprocal relation,

with both, moreover, emerging as expressions of the social relations of
capital, as it extended and intensified the production of surplus value
through the publishing industry.157 The outcome was of course neither
inevitable nor unilinear; in Feltess Althusserian conceptualization, the
commodity-text is an overdetermined, differential network. As such, it
invites consideration of the interplay between literary content and com-
modity form. Serial production was the dominant formal feature, as the
nineteenth-century book moved from the luxury three-volume novel
to book serials, periodicals, and part-issue novelsa development that
maximized sales volume and integrated readers through the punctual con-
sumption of discrete parts of a whole, building up effects of interpellation
through the unfurling of the rich and varied detail of setting, character,
and action that seriality allows.
Innovation on this front continues throughout the life-span of the book
industry, as Miller, Squires, and Striphas have shown.158 In the develop-
ment of consumer credit, for instance, books pioneered debt-driven pur-
chasing, where their esteemed cultural value eased consumers to overcome
the negative moral connotations of debt. More recently, books have had a
pronounced presence in just-in-time, warehouse-based online retail, for
it was the rationalized capitalist structure of books and the book industry,
exemplified by the sophisticated logistical mechanism of the International
Standard Book Number (ISBN), that encouraged Jeff Bezos to found
Amazon.com on the sale of books and not another commodity.159 And in
the realm of the e-book, the book industry is currently at the forefront
of technical and legal developments in rent and control, where systems
of digital rights management stymie the reproducibility of digital text by
locking ownership to individual consumers and time-limited contracts.160
We should inquire further of the people of the book, the book and its
class. I have noted already the reciprocal relation between mass-produced
books and bourgeois audiences in the emergence of the modern book com-
modity. Looking more closely at that class of readers, it is apparent that
the culture of books and of reading has been intimately associated with
and patterned by a complex of cultural values that designate and solicit
class distinction and separation. George Steiner grasps well a number of
the dimensions of this complex. After noting that the book, in its classic
phase, is a privately owned object, he writes,
A man sitting alone in his personal library reading is at once the product
and begetter of a particular social and moral order. It is a bourgeois order
founded on certain hierarchies of literacy, of purchasing power, of leisure,
and of caste....The classic act of reading...is the focus of a number of
implicit power relations between the educated and the menial, between
the leisured and the exhausted, between space and crowding, between
silence and noise, between the sexes and the generations.161
As we have seen, it is often lamented today that digital and online media,
and the distracted and fragmented forms of attention with which it is cor-
related, are eroding the autonomous practice of concentrated, deep reading
and, as research on neural plasticity appears to indicate, the very cognitive
capacity for such.162 It is a development compounded by the loss of leisure
time associated with the extension and intensification of work across the
span of the waking day (including the extension of pseudo-work for those
formerly designated as unemployed, now subject through workfare and
punitive welfare regimes to the discipline of work, if not quite its content).
But Steiners comments should remind us how much the norm of deep
reading has always been a classed capacity and resource. That is not to
deny the significance and value of practices and institutions that coun-
tered this conditionwe should recall here the centrality of cultures of
text to the political associations of the historical workers movement, for
example, and that reading was considered enough of a threat to the class
power of the Southern slave regime that slaves who were caught teach-
ing others how to spell were commonly hangedbut to register that the
historical norm of book culture has a strong bourgeois hue and a consider-
able role in the maintenance of class distinction.163 To extend this point
with regard to the particular media form of the novel, James Thompson
has shown how it facilitated the bourgeois construction-in-separation of
the economic and domestic spheres and hence of the social as cleaved
by gender.164 The eighteenth-century novel encapsulates, imagines, and
projects an apparently noneconomic sphere of the domestic, where totality
is grasped, but only as marriage, and literary form, such as the perceived
objectivity of free indirect discourse, presents a picture of closure and

authority. More generally, the novel enabled a nascent, heterogeneous,
and fragmentary middle class to envision itself as coherent, unitary, and
stable before such coherence and stability came into being.165
This appreciation of the class and gendered distinctions of book cul-
ture invites consideration of its other stratifications, not least of which
concerns the role of the medium of the book in colonialism. Relativizing
our notion of the book, Walter Mignolo assesses its place in the history
of colonial conquest in Latin America. Like Deleuze and Guattari, as I
show in chapter 3, he considers the integration of religious authority with
the book to have been less a particular manifestation of this media form
than an integral feature of its historical emergence, the book as stand-in
for God:
One could surmise that the idea of the book may have entered into the
system of representation of graphic semiotic interaction at the point when
writing gained its autonomy from orality and the book replaced the
person as a receptacle and a source of knowledge. It is quite compre-
hensible that when the word was detached from its oral source (the body),
it became attached to the invisible body and to the silent voice of God,
which cannot be heard but can be read in the Holy Book.166
Once established in this form, and no doubt derived from these features
of autonomy and spiritual truth, the book was subsequently projected as
a universal standard across time and space. Mignolo shows how, starting
in the European Renaissance, books became entwined with an evolution-
ary model of thought that understood the codex to be an achieved form
that had existed in potentia since the inception of writing and hence the
standard against which other forms of writing and technologies of inscrip-
tion should be assessed. A series of equivalences were drawn, whereby
true writing is alphabetic writing, writing is indistinguishable from the
idea of the book, and this identified with the medieval and Renaissance
codex. As with time, so with space: this is the model that accompanied
the colonial and missionary encounter with non-Europeans, whose writ-
ing systems and signifying practices were viewed through the European
lens to be inadequate books and thus to be burned as works of the devil
and/or substituted with the material and ideological forms of the Western
codex. As Mignolo insists, then, it is not in the content per se but rather in
the form of the book that colonial power was manifestalbeit, as we will
see in chapter 3, that this was a form that downplayed the significance
of its material instantiation in favor of a fixation on the spiritual unity of
its content.167
A more recent instance of the colonial impact of the form of the book
is provided by its place in the deligitimization and destruction of the
distributed textuality of Australian Aboriginal peoples. Like Mignolo,
McKenzie invites us to appreciate the nonbook textual forms of non-
European cultures, in this case where landscape is dotted with organic
and geological features that are embedded in narrative structures and
symbolic forms. Here the real absurdity lies not in treating rocks as
textual forms but in the importation into such symbolic systems of a
single-minded obsession with book-forms.168
Post-Digital Publishing
A contemporary account of the many materialities of political publishing

needs a way of handling the relationship between print and digital media;
this is where Anti-Book finds its third broad domain of intervention. If
colonialism provides an opportunity to relativize the normative standard
of the book, digital networked media institute a more direct and pervasive
decentering, suggesting, as Jay David Bolter puts it in Writing Space, that
like the specializations on outer branches of an evolutionary tree, the
printed book is an extreme form of writing, not the norm.169 In the early
enthusiasm for digital media, Bolter and others foresaw that new net-
work functionalitiesnotably, the branching and nonlinear structure of
hypertextmight serve to realize the potential of avant-garde and experi-
mental writing and publishing, to realize the antibook, as he describes
it, where antibooks...disrupt our notion of how a book should look and
behave before our eyes.170 For Bolter, this realization would simultane-
ously remove the critical ground from predigital experimentation, as the
(now digital) medium shifts from resistant object of critique to one of
facilitation. Take Derridas work of textual and graphic experimentation,
Glas (which reads Hegel in relation with autobiographical writing by Jean

Genet), as Bolter describes it:
In the printed Glas the network of relationships that normally remains

hidden beneath the printed page has emerged and overwhelmed the
orderly presentation we expect of a printed book. In the World Wide
Web, on the other hand, the many relationships among textual elements
simply float to the surface. An antibook like Glas would no longer be an
antibook in an electronic edition, because it would work with rather than
against the grain of its medium.171
It is of course true that digital and online media dramatically alter the field
of writing and publishing, but, twenty-five years after Writing Space, it is
apparent that our situation is less one of the realization and suppression
of the anti-book in digital hypertext than one where the anti-book finds
new conditions within which to gain far-reaching traction, to move beyond
hitherto established confines. Contrary to the picture of a rhizomatic
release of digital hypertext, core aspects of the object of the anti-books
critique have come to proliferate, innovate, and intensify at quite some
pace. Established mechanisms of the author-function and the capital-
ist forms of publishing have a renewed vigor in contemporary textual
media, and these are interlaced with born-digital instruments of capture
and accumulation, not least of which, ironically, is the linking function
of digital hypertext, as we have seen in the case of social media. Concur-
rently, the effect of digital media to decenter the printed book, loosening
much textual media from the hold of the data management function, has
freed up its other capacities, which serve as the terrain for a renewal of
the critical sensibility of the anti-book, now less bound to specialist fields
and potentially released across the broad terrain of writing and publishing.
This terrain, then, is at once transformed by digital media and includes
print media as an integral part.
It is this last point that I focus on here, for it is key to understanding how
this book approaches the contemporary relation between print and digital
media. To do so, I will push against another figure that Bolter employs
to characterize the changed status of the book: the late age of print.172
It is an expression more recently taken up by Striphas to characterize the
condition I have been describing where the preeminence of the book has
waned, relative to the wealth and diversity of digital audiovisual and textual
media (it seems difficult to imagine books shouldering much world-
historical responsibility any more), at the same time as it has been trans-
formed by digital technology and the broader changes in production and
consumption associated with post-Fordism.173 Striphas has a keen sense
of the intermediation of communicative media, but the characterization
of this condition as the late age of print is unhelpful. It conveys a strong
impression that we are living through a period of epochal change from
one media form to another, a period of transition, as Striphas has it, the
passing of the Age of Print for Hayles.174 No doubt there is consider-
able truth in this naming of the contemporary as a particularly transforma-
tive period in the movement from paper to pixel; as I write, e-books, only a
credible mass phenomenon since 2007, have overtaken print books in sales
volume.175 And yet such temporal framing does a disservice to the content
of this body of research, for it channels the complexity of contemporary
media forms into a linear narrative of change, and one that downplays the
significance in the present of the medium that is deemed to be passing.
Anti-Book parts with this linear characterization of the passing of the
printed book and proceeds instead on the understanding that the digital
future of the book has already arrived, wherein print media has a fully
contemporary place. We live in a time of post-digital publishing, as
Alessandro Ludovico and Florian Cramer have characterized the situa-
tion, where digital technology has transformed all aspects of media such
that, in Kim Cascones words, its revolutionary period...has surely
passed.176 The post-digital describes the messy state of media, arts
and design after their digitization (or at least the digitization of crucial
aspects of the channels through which they are communicated).177 Not
only have smart phones, tablet computers, e-books, e-mail, and social
media become ubiquitous and thoroughly enmeshed with social life but
online digital media have also colonized their prehistory, as print itself has
become digital, paper publishing now traversed and articulated by the most
advanced technologies, infrastructures, and compositional paradigms.
Cramer offers an illuminating image, if a little tongue in cheek, to convey
the character of this transformation: Paper publishing has largely become
a form of Digital Rights Management for delivering PDF files in a file

sharingresistant format (but also, a more stable form of long-term storage
of digital content than electronic storage).178 To make the more general
case, todays printed books are composed, manufactured, marketed,
distributed, reviewed, and debated through media that are thoroughly
digital in their structure. And so printed books are not the last vestiges
of predigital publishing but are forms of post-digital print, where the
relationship between print and digital media is no longer characterized by
linear succession but is one of hybridization, a complex and variegated set
of publishing relations and forms, at once interlaced and specific. With
this hybridization comes a loosening of the boundaries and authority of
the book, which is now only one form among an interlaced and variable
set of media forms, where publishing has come to infuse social life and is
increasingly indistinct from writing and mediated communication more
generally conceived. Murphie is right, then, to describe mutability rather
than postprint as the essence of publishing today: Publishing is now a
generative, recursive network of events, with multiple forms of feedback
into the ongoing mutation of forms of publishing themselves.179
One of the benefits that accrue from approaching the field of publishing
in this way, rather than as a linear succession of mediums, is that it encour-
ages attention to the potential contemporaneity of any medium, old and
new alike. Such is apparent in a recent Banner Repeater pamphlet by
Nina Power, A Pamphlet about a Book about a Blog, which discusses her
experience of publishing a printed book, One Dimensional Woman, from
writings that had first appeared on her blog, Infinite Thought. The title
and published form of this work reverse the linear order of the new, so
serving to bring blog, book, and pamphlet into contemporaneous juxta-
position. Powers text has the same post-digital effect in considering the
difference and interplay of these mediums while addressing the changes
that digital media has introduced into writing and the difficulties and
experimental possibilities that arise when writing migrates across them:
if making the transition from blogs to books was problematic, making it
from Twitter will be even more interesting.180
Older media can in these ways, hence, be fully part of the present, but
they can also have a structuring effect on the future. As Simon Worthington
puts it, there is already a lot of book in the digitalthe vector of incur-
sion moving as much from print to digital as it does from the digital into
our notionally stable, enshrined cultural form of the book.181 Certainly
the book has been decentered from its dominant cultural position in the
realm of textual media (though newspapers, job printing, documents, and
so forth assured that it was never quantitatively dominant), and yet, as
Derrida has it, in the new media environment, the figures of the book
continue to impact the digital field. He makes a good deal of the inherently
figural quality of the book, where a series of metonymies shift biblion, the
Ancient Greek root of book, meaning a support for writing (itself derived
from biblos, the internal bark of the papyrus), toward writing in general, and
only then to book, whose artifactual form was originally not the codex but
the scroll. I have counseled already, following Mignolo, against seeing the
book as a linear progression of forms of textual inscription; the modern
codex is a distinct and particular entity, compared, say, to the scroll. But
the history of the figures of the book suggests, all the same, that there is
slippage and mutation in the physical forms that count as books. And so
there is nothing fundamentally ersatz about an electronic reading device
being called a book. Electronic readers may well come to shrug off the
book as a means of self-classification, but they may not, given all the fea-
tures of books and book cultures with which they are interlaced; the book
as unit of discourse, pagination, bodily habits of reading, page turning,
bookmarking, the prescribed rhythm of reading, modes of legitimation,
the author-function, proprietary regimesall these are prolonged into
the terrain of the e-book and digital publishing.
I do not mean to suggest that such interplay between print and digi-
tal media is an inherent good. In the face of the digital restructuring of
textual media, Derrida seems to take comfort from the living on of the
book (where we can trust in the conservative, even fetishistic impulse
to sanctifysanctify once againthe book, the aura of culture or cult
of the book), whereas an anti-book orientation would be more critical,
for which Johanna Druckers research is instructive.182 By contrast to
Bolters notion that digital hypertext is the realization of the aesthetic
promise of experimental print, Drucker argues compellingly that the
aesthetic potential of digital text has in fact been hidebound to the clichd
and reductive iconography of the book that abounds in culture, with too
much emphasis on formal replication of layout, graphic, and physical
features and too little analysis of how those features affect the books
function.183 It results in aesthetic forms and design applications that are
often less complex and dynamic than the three-dimensional object of the
codex, the branching structure of hypertext contrasting less than favorably
to the n-dimensional reading of the printed page, as Jerome McGann
has described the multivariate potential of the page for multiple, lay-
ered, and discontinuous meanings and semiotic interactions.184 Drucker
calls instead for a diagrammatic writing of new textual mediums and
semantic effects that is truly responsive to the spatial and graphic potential
of fungible electronic environments, a move that would break the con-
servative hold of book iconology on digital media while allowing books to
continue their work of experimentation, apart and, no doubt, in interplay
with digital diagrammatic writing.185 Again, we see here the post-digital
difference and interplay of mediums in their specificity, which Drucker
embodies in her own practice as researcher and practitioner in both the
digital realms of speculative computing and printed artists books. Other
compelling experiments in this post-digital terrain include work on hybrid
publishing and the unbound book at centers like Leuphana Universitys
Hybrid Publishing Lab, Amsterdams Institute of Network Cultures, and
Coventry Universitys Centre for Disruptive Media, where the unbound
book, as Gary Hall describes it, develops the book as something that is
not fixed, stable and unified, with definite limits and clear material edges,
but as liquid and living, open to being continually and collaboratively
written, edited, annotated, critiqued, updated, shared, supplemented,
revised, re-ordered, reiterated and reimagined.186 I should mention also
the astonishing resource of experimental post-digital publishing curated
by Silvio Lorusso, the Post-Digital Publishing Archive.187
I take up some of these themes of hybrid and unbound publishing
with regard to magazine form in chapter 5, but this book is more strongly
informed by a different aspect of the post-digital. Here the post-digital sig-
nifies a critical distance to digital media and its commercially induced pull
of the new, what Lorusso calls an obsessive quest for future models,
where the space that experimentation and innovation is sought frequently
corresponds to the narrow ecosystem of the newest device or platform.188

In this sense, with Cramer again, the term post-digital can be used to
describe either a contemporary disenchantment with digital information
systems and media gadgets, or a period in which our fascination with these
systems and gadgets has become historical.189 Regarding the presence of
print in post-digital publishing, it is not, for example, a revival of mim-
eographed zines but zines that become anti-blogs, even as zines are at
the same time transformed by the ethical and organizational conventions
of online and open source cultures.190 This is a feature of the consider-
able interest in print publications that has accompanied the expansion of
digital media, where the post-digital is characterized by an experimental
focus on the materialities, aesthetics, and properties of printed media.
There is a historical dimension to it, apparent in high-profile exhibitions
in London, for example, on the dissident Surrealist journal Documents at
the Hayward Gallery in 2006 (where the journal took center stage rather
than the movement), Futurist and avant-garde books at the British Library
in 20078, and bookworks at the Victoria and Albert Museum in 2008.
This historical focus might have suggested a last gasp of interest in print
publishing, its specific qualities becoming visible at the moment of its
demise, had it not been accompanied by a burgeoning practitioner field
of small-scale print publishingin art and critical theory circles but also
in more overtly political scenes. Examples of the latter include STRIKE!
Magazine (2012), which has the rare distinction of being the last paper
newspaper in Fleet Street, Londons traditional home of the print industry;
LIES: A Journal of Materialist Feminism, a queer and antiracist project
framed compellingly as a communist journal against communists;
Letters: An Anti-Political Communist Journal (2007), experimental in
both content and form; Chto Delat? (2003), newspaper of the Russian
art and activism group of the same name; and Tiempo Muerto (2012), an
anarchist arts and letters newspaper from Mexico City. This realm of print
publishing is also sustained by a wealth of small press and self-publishers
fairs and centers. To name a handful of these with which I am familiar,
Londons Publish and Be Damned, DIY Cultures, Small Publishers Fair,
London Art Book Fair, the London Anarchist Bookfair, New Yorks NY
Art Book Fair, and bookwork centers like Minnesotas Open Book; New
Yorks Printed Matter and Franklin Furnace; and Londons bookartbook-

shop, Book Works, London Centre for Book Arts, and Banner Repeater.191
In the post-digital manner that I have been describing, such con-
temporary print projects tend to be highly attentive to the particular
aesthetics and social relations of printed matter, holding a critical and
reflexive distance from digital and online media, while also utilizing digital
capacities. For instance, while the Chto Delat? group publish online, they
see the organizational, social, and sensory qualities and effects of the
printed newspapera Russian and English bilingual publication in print
runs of one thousand to nine thousand, distributed for free at exhibitions
and political eventsas a key dimension of their practice. Or take the
small press AND Publishing (2009), which focuses on the aesthetic
and political capacities of the print technology of print on demand (a
publishing process I discuss in chapter 5), whose digital capacities enable
the publication of printed artists books without having to compromise
and conform [to] the conventions of a mass market.192 And a number of
small press publishers employ open source business models where books
are simultaneously available as purchasable hard copy and free download-
able e-pubs, as is the case with Open Humanities Press, Punctum Books,
re.press, Minor Compositions, and Open Book Publishers.
No doubt there are reactionary elements at play in contemporary print
scenes, of a future-canceling retro culture, and class dynamics also, what
Jess Baines describes as a striving for social distinction through technical
specialism and aesthetic rarity, as posited against the perceived plebian
accessibility of digital and online media.193 But my thesis is that burgeoning
cultures of print also carry a post-digital sensibility, where paper, pixel,
and critique of media form open out into a complex field of publishing
potential unconstrained by the depoliticized fixation of the technological
new. Let me stress that in no sense do I aim to map this field, which
is developing in numerous exciting directions that I have not addressed
here. The contribution made by Anti-Book to the contemporary field of
post-digital publishing is to introduce and extend specifically communist
problematics as they pertain to the many materialities of text.
Anti-Book carries a post-digital sensibility, then, with explorations of
paper and print publishing taking a dominant place in many of the chapters
that follow. Some of these, notably the works I consider in chapter 3,

come from a time before digital publishing. My point in approaching
these with a post-digital eye is not to say that differences of media his-
tory and sociopolitical conjuncture are now collapsed by the post-digital
condition, as if these works have been made wholly contemporary. Rather,
their salience is as historical instances of experimental material text that
indicate alternative trajectories through the largely text-bound history of
political textual media. These trajectories in part become visible because
of the perceptivities that are opened by digital media, which, as Derrida
put it, might liberate our reading for a retrospective exploration of the
past resources of paper, for its previously multimedia vectors, but this
is only insofar as they are also grasped by contemporary problems in the
politics of material text.194
In the chapters that engage with digital media, I refrain from discuss-
ing the dominant social media platforms of Twitter, Facebook, and their
ilk. It is not that I see no possibility here for the articulation of critical
content or for political network effects, but their technical forms, subjec-
tive patterns, and business models have something of a black hole effect
with regard to media alternatives, sucking too much textual production
into their distributed core. And so I have chosen to look elsewhere for
experimental media form, to small press and self-published writing proj-
ects. This is not to say that I subscribe to the common notion of media
independence or autonomy, as if a writing and publishing project
could exist outside of capitalist relations (a point I develop in chapter
5). Rather, I am developing a view from the margins with the aim not
of staying marginal, or marginal for the sake of it, but of unsettling the
center, even if only marginally.
Content
It remains for me to outline the content of the following chapters. Each

chapter explores the politics of a particular media form, where these are
sometimes media platformspamphlet, book, and magazine (chapters
2, 3, and 5)and other times media forms of a more structural or liter-
ary nature, such as the author, or rather the authors undoing through
anonymity (chapter 4), and mythopoesis (chapter 6). I count all of these
as media forms, as instances of material text (a field that of course
includes many forms not encountered here, or only marginally so: poem,
slogan, communiqu, newspaper, leaflet, letter, autobiography, blog). The
focus of the book is European, with a few examples drawn from China,
Russia, and the United States. Clearly the book makes no claim to universal
coverage; at most it is a critical sampling of an open field.
Chapter 2 is an exploration of the media form of the self-published
pamphlet. As with all the chapters, and in keeping with Hayless call for
media-specific analysis, I seek to hold together two aims: to develop
an understanding of the specificity of this media form and to approach
this specificity as only ever situatedenmeshed in, emergent from, and
expressive of specific social contexts and political problematics.195 We find
the specific media form of the pamphlet, then, only in the many, various,
and open-ended specificities of its instantiation and problematization. This
chapter approaches and contributes to this form-in-variation through a
specific problematic that was introduced into art and material culture by
the Russian Constructivists in the early years of the Soviet Revolution, a
problematic that Christina Kiaer has called the socialist object, where
revolutionary politics was to entail the liberation not only of the human
but also of the objectthe object as comrade, to employ Alexsandr Rod-
chenkos formulation.196 Here, however, with the aid of Walter Benjamins
affirmation of the useless and anthropological work on fetishism, I draw
the object away from the productivist orbit of Constructivism to develop
a concept of the communist object, a concept that I then bring into
relation with three publishing and archiving projects: Unpopular Books,
56a Archive, and Infopool. Although I concentrate on the pamphlet as
object, I do not leave the textual content of these projects entirely behind;
rather, following Adorno, I seek to find points of mimesis between the
pamphlet objects and their political orientations, paratextual elements,
and, occasionally, specific arguments. Here my choice to refrain from
close engagement with the specific textual content of the pamphlets is a
deliberate product of the chapters formulation of the communist object.
In other chapters, readers may find themselves wanting more detailed
discussion of the textual content of the works considered, for detailed
engagement with content is sometimes a casualty of this books aim to

engage with the broader materialities of text which are more usually left
aside and unnoticed. I hope you think it a price worth paying.
Chapter 3 explores the problematic of the political book, situated
at the point where the book as a political medium intersects with books
that are expressly political. I focus on the properties of four works: Mao
Zedongs Little Red Book, Russian Futurist books, Antonin Artauds
paper spells or gris-gris, and Guy Debord and Asger Jorns Mmoires.
The analysis draws strongly on Deleuze and Guattaris typology of the
form of the book, which grasps the intersection of signifying and subjective
processes, sensory forms, expressive qualities, and politics. The field of
modern books, as Deleuze and Guattari approach it, is inherently political,
patterned by three competing structural forms or abstract machines: the
root-book, the fascicular root-book, and the rhizome-book. Though
their concepts of root and rhizome have become widely influential, very
little research has sought to explore the specific relation of these concepts
to the media form of the book, and even less has deployed them in em-
pirical investigation of actual books, a deficit that this chapter seeks to
address. The critique of Mao in this chapter contributes to what amounts
to a minor theme of Anti-Book. While communism features in this book in
the specific context of the politics of writing and publishing, I occasionally
approach it more broadly, and in critical relation to that which has often
gone by the namein this instance, in relation to Mao and the Cultural
Revolution, a politico-philosophical system and a historical sequence that
has had not inconsiderable presence in contemporary efforts to revive a
so-called communism for our times.
Chapter 4 shifts from a focus on media platforms to consider the
literary forms of anonymous and pseudonymous collective authorship,
approached as a political challenge to the author-function. The chapter
begins with a critique of the author-function through Marx and Foucault
and teases out their respective accounts of the politics of anonymity, where
anonymity is not a case of dropping ones name but is a complex and situ-
ated production. I pursue this through a number of writing projects and
problematics: the collective pseudonym of Luther Blissett and his novel
of the Radical Reformation, Q; Bernadette Corporations pseudonymous
novel Reena Spaulings, through its interplay with Michle Bernsteins

All the Kings Horses, her breezy fictionalization of life with her comrade
and husband Guy Debord; and, taking a prompt from the radical journal
Tiqqun, the theme of anonymity in Marxs formulation of the party,
where certain practices in communist writing and publishing are drawn
out through consideration of the May 1968 journal Comit, within which
Blanchot had a pivotal role, and the communization journal Endnotes.
Chapter 5 returns to consider a particular publishing platform, in this
case the magazine. But here the focus is exclusively on a single publish-
ing project, the London-based art and politics magazine Mute. What
makes Mute such an enticing project for my purposes here, and justifies
dedicating to it a full chapter, is the extent to which it established a criti-
cal and practical self-differing orientation at the heart of the magazine.
In this chapter, I take as my entry point one of Mutes more enigmatic
strap lines, Proud to Be Flesh, to develop a model of Mutes publishing
practice that I call diagrammatic publishing. This model attends to the
complex of publishing platforms, participatory mechanisms, aesthetic
styles, editorial and commissioning paradigms, temporal modes, and
commercial structures that compose the magazine, understood not as an
integrated and centralized medium but as a distributed and open entity
that is immanent to neoliberal social relations. Mute is not autonomous,
then, or independentthose oft trumpeted and rather tired designators
of political publishingbut a publishing project that revels in its critical
immersion in the technosocial flesh of the world, with all its complicities
and contradictions.
Chapter 6 takes up the specific literary form of political myth as it is
constructed in the writing practice of Wu Ming, collective author of five
novels and a large body of political texts published in print and online
mediums. Myth is a terribly compromised political phenomenon, one
that political theorists and practitioners might reasonably avoid like the
proverbial plagueall the more so if they are interested in communism,
given the brutality associated with the political myths and personality
cults of orthodoxy. I begin with this structure of the cult of personality
in Mao and its interpretation by Badiou. If the Chinese and Soviet au-
thorities invested in and propelled the cult of personality, it was always
a touchy subject, given that Marx coined the expression to help excise
this formation from the communist movement. I follow Marxs lead
here, but that does not mean we should drop myth from the repertoire
of political writing and publishing. This chapter shows how alternative
models of communist myth might be developed, paying attention to a
fragmented and decentered form of mythopoesisthe power of the
false, as Deleuze has it, the story-telling function of the poor.197 This
chapter explores the particular textual and media procedures by which
such myth is constructed, focusing especially on Wu Mings epic fiction
and their method of the unidentified narrative object.
2
Communist Objects and
Small Press Pamphlets
Our things in our hands must be equals, comrades.
aleksandr rodchenko, Letter to
Varvara Stepanova, May 4 1925
If the invention of the printing press inaugurated the bourgeois

era, the time is at hand for its repeal by the mimeograph, the
only fitting, the unobtrusive means of dissemination.
theodor w. adorno, Minima Moralia
Print media has had an integral place in modern movements of art and
politics, of which the journal or revue is perhaps the preeminent
instance. La Rvolution surraliste, Internationale situationniste, and
Quaderni rossi, to take three iconic examples of radical periodicals, are
something like the mobile ground upon which Surrealism, the Situation-
ists, and Italian Operaismo came into being through timekey sites
and means by which these currents and movements honed their ideas
and aesthetic styles, established group coherence, and gained purchase
on the social imaginary. The point is aptly made by Guy Debord, and
with a droll tone that strikes an appealing contrast to the hallowed re-
spect that more usually accompanies talk of Internationale situationniste:
Even the fact of publishing a slightly regular journal is very tiresome;
and, at the same time, one of our only weapons to define and hold on
to a base.1
In plain terms, then, journals are significant sites of political writing
and publishing. And yet in their correlation between movement and
medium, they reveal themselves to be just that little bit too obedient,
tiresome evenordered and contained by the requirements of a move-
ment. In this respect journals tend more to the form of media ecology,
61
62 communist objects and small press pamphlets
in Debrays terms discussed in chapter 1, than to the anti-book, because

to warrant the latter designation would require a self-critical and disrup-
tive relation with the organizations and audiences with which media are
associatedan inoperative quality to their communism, to borrow
from Jean-Luc Nancythat is inimical to the consolidating tendencies
of movement media.2 Advocates for periodical publications will have
numerous examples with which to challenge this assessmentindeed,
in chapters 4 and 5, I consider some myself, and even this chapter turns
to a journal at one pointbut I make it as a helpful means of contrast to
the media form that is the focus here: the pamphlet.
Small press pamphlets tend to be much less correlated with social
movements, allowing them a more indeterminate, exploratory, and criti-
cal character, in relation both to their sites of publication and circulation
and to their sociomaterial forms and contexts more broadly conceived.
Therefore, consideration of the medium of the pamphlet allows more
atypical and anomalous instances and qualities of political media to come
into view, even encouraging us to find the seeds of media communism in
these atypical instances, over and against the more movement-oriented
forms of political publishing.
A first elaboration of this point can be found in Jacques Rancires
early book The Nights of Labor. Here Rancire attends to the strange liter-
ary and aesthetic artifacts created by nineteenth-century worker-poets,
-painters, and -writers as they struggled at night, in the precious moments
between work, to breach their separation from intellectual practice and a
life condemned to labor. Rancire at one point describes these artifacts,
in a most evocative phrase, as hieroglyphs of the anticommodity.3 The
use of the term hieroglyph here is anachronistic, certainly, but I will hold
on to it for a little while, because Rancires formulation moves us some
considerable distance. In distinction from Marxs famous characterization
of the social hieroglyphic of the commodity, which is surely a deliberate
point of reference, Rancire does not employ the term principally to signal
a strategy of demystification, where specialized interpretation of the object
and its relations would reveal a truth obscured by its mysterious form.
Rather, he seeks to put into service precisely the mysterious, indecipher-
able quality connoted by the popular usage of the word, to champion the
communist objects and small press pamphlets 63
anomalous and paradoxical expressive features of these works. The point

is clear in his gloss on the words of one bemused observer of said works:
Our friend of the workers, Ledreuille, was on target: woods that arent
there, letters you would not know how to read, pictures for which the
models have never existed. They would be so many hieroglyphs of the
anticommodity, products of a worker know-how that retains the creative
and destructive dream of those proletarian children who seek to exorcise
their inexorable future as useful workers.4
If this indecipherable quality is, in concrete terms, a product of the amateur

hands and heads of workers unschooled in bourgeois aesthetics, it is the
social relations that the works indexor, better, refuse to indexwherein
lies their anti-commodity valence. These artifacts created at night by a
few dozen nonrepresentative individuals are not the typical, popular
productions of the working class (should such things exist); quite the con-
trary, they confound class identity, in a way that is manifest not only against
the immediate capitalist imperatives of work but also, more significantly,
against the role assigned to these workers by the workers movement,
whose mobilizing images, organizational forms, hierarchies of value, and
visions of the future served, however unwittingly, to confirm the capitalist
subject of man-the-producer.5 In Rancires cutting assessmentand
we should recall here the critique of programmatism in chapter 1the
discourse of the workers movement never functioned so well as when
it was doing so in the logic of others or for their profit.6 I say confound
rather than escape, for these hieroglyphs of the anti-commodity have no
autonomous existence; they articulate flight from the dictatorships...of
king work that, paradoxically, reveal the impossibility of such flight under
the social conditions of capitalism.7 The mysterious, hieroglyphic quali-
ties of these works lie, then, in this impossibilityat most they exist as
a gap in the distribution of the sensible, calling forth worlds that are
wholly unrepresentable within the social and aesthetic regimes whence
they arose.
Significantly for my argument in this chapter, Rancires formulation
also carries associations of physical materiality, of the media object, because
the hieroglyph is in origin a sign carved into material, a sacred carving
(from the Greek roots hieros and glyphe). Indeed, if we draw a little on
a later book, Mute Speech, in which the hieroglyph is a recurring trope,
it is clear that Rancire invests a great deal in the political potential of
physical form (albeit that I would not want to substitute the class dimen-
sion of the anti-commodity in his earlier book with the false universals
of people and nations as he does here).8 More than words, bound as
they are to the rules of signification within dominant discursive regimes,
it is in the material forms of such anomalous aesthetic works that the
anti-commodity finds its most adequate articulation. For here we have a
mute expressivity that is elevated to the status of poetry, the poeticity
of the world, where the medium of signification becomes more decisive
than the signification that it ostensibly carries: mute-speaking works,
works that speak as images, as stones, as matter that resists the significa-
tion whose vehicle it is.9
A poem, a painting, a piece of printed matter can, then, be an anti-
commodity, or a paradoxical invocation of such, as it reveals the impasses
of the social and discursive regimes of work and its identities. Moreover,
this quality may be most apparent in the mute material form of such
artifacts. It is a rare construction indeed. And yet this formulation of the
anti-commodity remains somewhat undeveloped and difficult to grasp,
especially in its material instantiation, its mute speech (no doubt, for
Rancire, this is necessarily so, given its hieroglyphic resistance to
meaning). While adhering to Rancires feeling for the paradoxical qual-
ity of such entities, in this chapter I seek a more precise concept of the
anti-commodity, what I call the communist object. I form this concept
out of three problematic fields: Russian Constructivist approaches to
the object as comrade and the intensive expressiveness of matter;
Walter Benjamins analysis of the collector, with particular attention
to his critique of use value; and the confounding dynamics of the fe-
tish. After setting out the communist object, the chapter then mobilizes
this concept in exploration of self-published or small press pamphlets,
drawing on interviews I conducted with producers and an archivist of
contemporary projects of nondoctrinal communist persuasion: Chris of
South Londons 56a Archive; Jakob Jakobsen, founder of Infopool; and
Fabian Tompsett, publisher and printer of Unpopular Books.
The Object as Comrade
In formulating the concept of the communist object, one has to work

against a dominant image of the place of things or objects in Marxism, that
of communism as an ascetic order, hostile to or distrustful of objects. This
image is associated with an at best simplified reading of Marxs diagnosis
in Capital of the fetish nature of commodities, where, in a dichotomous
relation between humans and objects, social relations between objects
determine objectlike relations between people. Marxism in this image
would seek to revalue people against the capitalist fixation on objects, in
the process stripping objects of their seductive, diverting capacities and
subjecting them to rational order and the plan. Bolshevik philosophy and
official Soviet culture stand as the prime intellectual and empirical refer-
ents for this image of ascetic socialism. However, it is also in the midst
of early Soviet art and culture, in the Constructivist movement, that an
especially innovative formulation of communism and the object can be
found, one that lays the groundwork for a concept of the communist object.
As Christina Kiaer has argued, the problematic of the object and its
transformative relation with human thought and sensory experience had
a pivotal place in Russian Constructivism, whose materialism she char-
acterizes as having an obsessive, even unseemly emphasis on...things
themselves.10 Indeed, writing home from the 1925 Paris International
Exposition of Modern Industrial and Decorative Arts, Aleksandr Rod-
chenko quite astonishingly presents capitalism as the exploitation of
the human and the object and projects their possible relation as one of
equality, elevating the object to the status of comrade: The light from
the East is not only the liberation of workers,...the light from the East
is in the new relation to the person, to woman, to things. Our things in
our hands must be equals, comrades, and not these black and mournful
slaves, as they are here.11
This socialist object, as Kiaer names the Constructivist problematic,
is an unstable entity emergent from numerous themes and contexts: the
extension of art into industrial production toward the transformation of
everyday life (the expedient, utilitarian object) with all the associated
issues concerning the place of the artist in industry; an achieved socialist
revolution that projected beyond property (not...the elimination of

material objects, but...the elimination of a possessive relation to them);
and the persistence of the commodity form (under the New Economic
Policys reintroduction of private capital and the global context of the
endurance of capitalist commodity culture).12 One of the many strengths
of Kiaers argument is that she understands the Constructivist object to
be operative not in pristine autonomy but in the midst of the affective field
of the commodity, where desiring relations to objects in capitalism are
less to be negated than explored, teased out, deployed, and transcended
in socialist material culture. All this leaves Constructivism as a highly
complex and precarious project traversed by many points of tension,
but the importance for my argument is the way the object features here
as a sensuous entity in material equality with the human, the object as
comrade. These features of the Constructivist object are at the forefront
of Boris Arvatovs highly original essay Everyday Life and the Culture
of the Thing (1925), a text that warrants extended discussion.
Against idealist tendencies in Marxist philosophies of culture that
foreground social consciousness at the expense of the material everyday,
Arvatov places the universal system of Thingsthe field of produc-
tion and consumption of material valuesfirmly at the center of social
life.13 This is of considerable historical significance, taking aim as it does
at Trotskys position in Literature and Revolution, but for the reader of
Marx today, it is hardly contentious. Where Arvatov is still truly striking
is in his communist alternative, the possibility of a proletarian material
culture imbued with the deepest sense of Things, even of the becom-
ing...thinglike of communist politics.14 Let us follow his argument, first
through his critique of the commodity form, then into his vertiginous
politics of the object.
Commodity Fetishism: The A-M aterial Form

of the Object
Arvatov makes his move initially from the perspective of consumption.

As he sees it, the structure of consumption in capitalist culture as a pri-
vate, individual arena separated from machine-rich collective production
creates an object that is experienced as severed from its genesis, its mani-
fold material relations, and that is as a result constituted as an isolated,
finished, and repeatable unit of private property.15 In this manifestation,
style and form become clichd, subject to imitative conservatism in
a world where the potentially dynamic object is reduced to a token in
the affectations of bourgeois individualism.16 This has effects too on the
objects sensory form. A property relation to the object, for all its affective
power in the composition of bourgeois identity, is a reduction of the human
sensorium. As Marx puts it, all the physical and intellectual senses have
been replaced by the simple estrangement of all these sensesthe sense
of having.17 For Arvatov, then, the object consumed as a commodity is
a dead and solitary object:
The Thing as an a-material category, as a category of pure consumption,

the Thing outside its creative genesis, outside its material dynamics,
outside its social process of production, the Thing as something com-
pleted, fixed, static, and, consequently, deadthis is what characterizes
bourgeois material culture.18
This a-material manifestation of the object in consumption is a struc-

tural complement to its mode of existence in production, where exchange
value, not utility or material quality, is the objects determining aspect. It
is a point best pursued through Marx directly. In a dozen or so dazzling
pages of Capital, Marx famously argues that the capitalist commodity
has a strange kind of agency, a mystical power that appears to emanate,
fetishlike, from the object itself, as if endowed with a life of [its] own.19
Marx is explicit, however, that this mystical agency is not a product of
the material qualities of the objectit has absolutely no connection
with the physical nature of the commodity and the material [dinglich]
relations arising out of thisbut of its specific existence in capitalism,
its commodity form.20
The explanation lies in the structure of labor. To prcis Marxs ac-
count of commodity fetishism, the source of value in capitalism is social
or abstract labor, the uniform quality of labor in general that arises in
the production and circulation of commodities. Abstract labor is a prod-
uct of the myriad different instances of concrete labor undertaken by
the multiplicity of producers. However, abstract labor is not manifest in

the labor process itself, where concrete labor is undertaken in relative
isolation, but in the circulation of commodities after they have been
produced. For it is only through the manifold practices of exchange that
the uniform quality of labor in general (abstract labor) can emerge from
all the different kinds of private, concrete labor. Since this occurs in the
sphere of commodity circulation, apart from and outside the sphere of
their production, the social character of capitalist labor appears to be a
property of commoditieswhence comes their fetish quality, as value ap-
pears to emanate from the commodities themselves, with their circulation
in a very real sense determining the form of their production, that is, the
concrete labor so expended.
Much more can be said about commodity fetishism, but to stay fo-
cused on the aims of this chapter, there are two points to underscore.
First, the concept of commodity fetishism does not posit that capitalist
cultures are overly enamored with objects, as it is commonly understood.
Marxs principal point, rather, is that the production and circulation of
commodities structure the form of laboror, better, constitute social activ-
ity as laborisolating people qua producers from a fully social relation
with each other and with objects. Workers experience becomes one of
pure subjectivity, as the communist journal Endnotes describes Marxs
position, all objectivity existing against [them] in the form of capital.21
To be clear, this is not somehow the fault of the object; the perverse
aspect of the commodity form, the fetishlike inversion, is that it is the
very characteristics of social labor that perform and entrench workers
a-social subjection. Second, insofar as commodity fetishism does also
describe a broader condition of social veneration of commodities, it is
quite the opposite of the common understanding. Commodity fetishism
is veneration not of the commodity object but of private property, whose
value lies not in its material specificity but in its universal exchangeability;
put otherwise, commodity fetishism is the social veneration of value as an
end in itself, of self-expanding value. Thus, in commodity fetishism, the
object is emptied of materiality; commodity fetishism is a fixation on the
a-material. The point is well made by Peter Stallybrass: To fetishize com-
modities is, in one of Marxs least understood jokes, to inverse the whole
history of fetishism. For it is to fetishize the invisible, the immaterial, the

supra-sensible. The fetishism of the commodity inscribes immateriality
as the defining feature of capitalism.22
The Intensive Expressiveness of Matter
From Arvatov and Marx we have learned that the realms of consumption
and production entail the production of both object and subject, which
are sundered from each other as such. By contrast, Arvatovs commu-
nist material culture is oriented toward an elimination of the rupture
between Things and people at the level of their dynamic interaction,
where the object has an agential powerit is retrieved from immobility,
inactivity, and the absence...of any element of instrumentalityin
the practical, psychological, and sensual reconfiguration of the human.23
Devoid of the constraining egoistic nature of the property relation, as
Marx has it, here inorganic nature has lost its mere utility in a world
of social organs in mutual and transformative exchange with social
object[s].24 And so, by contrast to the foreclosed sensorial scope of the
commodity object, communism, in Marxs ecstatic expression, is the
complete emancipation of all human senses and attributes as human-
ity comes to suffer the object: To be sensuous, i.e. to be real, is to be
an object of sense, a sensuous object, and thus to have sensuous objects
outside oneself, objects of ones sense perception. To be sensuous is to
suffer (to be subjected to the actions of another).25
The question remains as to how to advance such a communism
of where it may come, how it might be glimpsed. For Arvatov, it is the
movement away from individual property in the sharing of complex technical
objects that enables this opening of the isolated and clichd commodity to
a social collectivity of objects and sensations, of which he attends to two
aspects. First, the material qualities of things come to the fore, something
the human acts upon as form cedes to function:
Glass, steel, concrete, artificial materials and so on were no longer cov-

ered over with a decorative casing, but spoke for themselves....The
thing was dynamized. Collapsible furniture, moving sidewalks, revolv-
ing doors, escalators, automat restaurants, reversible outfits, and so on
constituted a new stage in the evolution of material culture. The Thing

became something functional and active, connected like a co-worker
with human practice.26
I will return to the utilitarian theme in this passage shortly; for the mo-
ment, let me underscore the strong presence here of a culture of materi-
als, what Arvatov elsewhere describes as an engagement with matter at
an elemental level, at its intensive expressiveness.27 To push that
formulation a little further, materials here overtake the artist or producer,
who comes to interpret and respond to the forces and qualities of matter;
Tatlin, for instance, is described by Maria Gough as having sought to
foster the volition of the material, displacing his role as creative subject
and reconfiguring himself as the materials assistant.28 This approach is
enhanced by a second aspect, Arvatovs concern with the natural life
of things, their expression of the powerful and indefinitely expanding
energies of the material sphere.29 While Arvatov looks to the institutional
research and production cultures of the American technical intelligentsia
for tendencies to communist material culture, the technical object here
still remains self-sufficient and retired within itself to the extent that
in capitalist culture it is severed from its relation to nature. As such, the
dynamic-laboring structure of the object and its living force are never
simultaneously present; thus both become soulless.30
Yet for all Arvatovs appreciation of the intensive expressiveness of
matter, it vies with a dominant imperative in his work, and Constructiv-
ism more widely, toward the utilitarian or expedient object. The proper
environment of the Constructivist object in mass production and its part in
the transformation of everyday life through the rational reorganization of
Soviet society is the profound promise of Constructivism, but also its most
troubling feature. For having foregrounded the expressive and disruptive
forces of matter, now even the most abstract and experimental material
valuesthe qualities of pure color, line, for instancebecome subject to
the plan and the imperatives of social utility against any unorganized ar-
bitrariness.31 There is a logical basis for this apparent contradiction. Con-
structivism, in keeping with Leninist orthodoxy, conceived of the transfor-
mation of capitalist industry to socialism as a process of collectivization,
the transfer of ownership of the forces of production from the capitalist

class to the State. Industrial production so transferred was the condition
for the socialist object to flourish. But this approach fails to appreciate
the immanence of capitalist structures and imperatives to the production
process itself; socialist factories are still factories. And so the socialist
object reaches its limit, being too comfortable in a social regime that leaves
the capitalist relations of productionthe domination of the worker by
the technical machine, the social affirmation of the subject of work, and
the separation of production from consumptionlargely untroubled.32
Objects against Use
What, then, might be a communist object, a material comrade, that is

not traversed by the imperatives of utility and production? Benjamins
speculations on the socioaesthetic phenomena of collecting and collections
help answer this question. It is a testament to Benjamins great originality
that he discerns that to undo the commodity it is not enough to ward off
exchange value; if an objects intensive expressiveness is to come forth,
then its use must also remain in suspension. I will explain how.
Faced with the situation of commodity fetishism outlined earlier, it
is not uncommon for critics (Marxists included) to reach for use value
as the reassuring ground for a politics of the objectuse value grasped
as an extracapitalist and needs-based relation to the object that is only
secondarily caught up in commodity relations and from which it can hence
be disinterred. But this is a position that Marx refutes. I have already
quoted Marx on the sensory movement of communism beyond mere
utility. We can now develop this point. As he writes in a passage that
has considerable impact on Benjamins theory of collecting, our estranged
relations to objects are a product and experience not only of property
and capital but of use also: Private property has made us so stupid
and one-sided that an object is only ours when we have it, when it exists
for us as capital or when we directly possess, eat, drink, wear, inhabit it,
etc., in short, when we use it.33
Use, in this formulation, is what patterns and regularizes the object
for iteration in the commodity mode. It is not an exteriority to exchange
value but the foreclosed metabolic and sensory experience of the object
formed within and functional to the atomized, everyday life of capitalism,
where the uses of objects are a means of life; and the life they serve is the
life of private property, labour and capitalization.34 This is implicit in the
Constructivist critique of the reduced sensorial scope of bourgeois things,
but for Benjamin the communist alternative must be no less removed
from utility. As he puts it, the proper materialist approach to the object
entails the liberation of things from the drudgery of being useful, a thesis
that Adorno considered to be Benjamins brilliant turning-point in the
dialectical redemption of the commodity.35
It is to this end that Benjamin makes his move into the politics of col-
lecting, for him a mode of experiment in the Sisyphean task of divesting
things of their commodity character (Sisyphean because uselessness
is a momentary breach in capitalist relations rather than an achieved
escape).36 In a fashion that is initially not so different from Arvatov,
Benjamins collector has a tactile instinct, an immersive relation to the
object that complements the optical sense with touch, handling, smell,
contemplation, love, and imagination, where the object is experienced
as an affective strike on the sensorium, a destabilizing sensory event.37
Marxs point about suffering the object becomes clearer. As Esther
Leslie argues, this is an intensified perception, bound up with shock,
impact and curiosity, one that at the level of everyday material culture
complements the enhanced technological perception Benjamin famously
detects in photography and cinema: everythingeven the seemingly
most neutralcomes to strike us.38 But in contrast to Arvatov, the
functional, useful properties of objects do not elicit this experience, they
get in its way and hence need to be evaded or excised. Collectors, these
physiognomists of the world of objects, appear to value everything but
the objects usefulness, for collecting is
a relationship to objects which does not emphasize their functional, utili-

tarian valuethat is, their usefulnessbut studies and loves them as the
scene, the stage, of their fate....The period, the region, the craftsman-
ship, the former ownershipfor a true collector the whole background
of an item adds up to a magic encyclopedia whose quintessence is the
fate of his object.39
This formulation of the object requires, hence, an environment that

suspends use, if only momentarily. Against the social relations of work
within which the useful socialist object fits comfortablythat is, Arva-
tovs object qua co-workerthe collected object is a co-zero-worker.
Its environment is not an advanced plane of industrial production but
a resolutely nonproductive, unstable, and momentary arrangement of
pure consumption, a collection.40 The object is not here produced but
encountered. And it is encountered as a fragment or, to use Leibnizs
term that I develop later on, a monad, a selection of the world that is
simultaneously a world unto itself. In the circumscribed area of a col-
lection, objects are extracted from their determining social relations
of use and exchange, so allowing the collector to encounter the shock of
their undetermined material specificity, as a sensorial field is opened that
overtakes the collector: for a...real collector...ownership is the most
intimate relationship that one can have to objects. Not that [objects] come
alive in him; it is he who lives in them.41 As Cesare Casarino remarks, this
most intimate relation is thus also the most extimate.42 It is an intimacy
that opens out and unsettles the subject of consumption, against the usual
logic of possession whereby objects come alive in the consumer, reflecting
back the image of the successful buyer who bestows life on inert mat-
ter through the demiurgic power of money, and whose love of objects,
therefore, can only be a narcissistic gesture of self-congratulation.43
Given the common image of collecting as a somewhat fusty practice,
it is perhaps difficult to appreciate the collection as a dynamic mode of
association, until one recognizes that, for Benjamin, it is a balancing act
of extreme precariousness and psychological intensity, created of chance
encounters, protracted searches, intensive strategies of acquisition, and,
as the fictional and factual cases explored by N.A. Basbanes attest, even
criminal activity.44 A collection is a permeable contour, maintained at the
edge of disorder. And the tactile appreciation of the object here contains a
destructive aspect that aligns the collector with the noncontinuous mode
of historical perception Benjamin conjures in Theses on the Philosophy
of History, as the intensive constellations of the collected object, in
their little way, blast open the continuum of history, the reified linear
progression of empty time produced by the rhythm of commodity
production.45 There is a development here too of Arvatovs concern with

the destabilizing forces of nature, for in the appreciation of the singular
fate of the objectits orbits, its streams of past and futurethe col-
lector is attuned to the dissipative properties of matter. The collectors
mode of relation thus opens to the many and singular durations of things,
so displaying an anarchistic, destructive passion, a wilfully subversive
protest against the typical, classifiable.46
It is a little disconcerting that Benjamin makes acquisition and owner-
ship constituent features of the collected object, given Marxs critique of
property as the a-material experience of the object; even more so that he
posits private collections against public collections, where, in the latter,
the phenomenon of collecting loses its meaning as it loses its personal
owner and objects get their due only in the former.47 But the point
about the collector, her passion at once domesticated and danger-
ous, is that property is the starting point for its undoing.48 Benjamin
is seeking a mode of relation to objects that is situated in the everyday
field of commodity consumption, while seeking to undo its structures
of use and value and the identity forms these impart and confirm. (In
any case, while the public collection may superficially appear to be less
objectionable, in Benjamins words, he sees it as complicit with capital-
ist property, with its correlated bourgeois myth of the generic public and
its practice of wresting objects from their contexts to create the illusion
of universal knowledge, as Douglas Crimp presents it, displaying the
products of particular histories in a reified historical continuum.)49 As
to the obvious objection that collecting has an intimate association with
class distinction and speculation, Benjamin retorts that the passion of
the true collector is sparked not principally by objects of commercial value
but by the anomalous, kitsch, popular, mysterious, and discarded items
of mass production. It is a practice within reach of all.
Fetishism of the Anti-Commodity
The qualities of the communist object discussed thus far can be brought
into greater focus through a little comparison with the Surrealist objet
trouv, or found object, perhaps the most influential formulation of
the object as a politico-aesthetic entity. Benjamin places great stress on

the revolutionary transformation of thingsenslaved and enslaving
objectsin Surrealism, a movement that bring[s] the immense forces
of atmosphere concealed in...things to the point of explosion.50 These
are objects that slip out of and rise up against the circuits of commodity
exchange; indeed, Andr Breton characterizes such objects of prolonged
sensual contact in precisely our terms as useless.51 Yet Bretons found
object is ordered by chains of psychosexual association that impose a
second-order use upon that which had initially escaped the determining
relations of utility. This is no more apparent than in his account in Mad
Love of flea market finds with Alberto Giacometti, where the narrative
moves from an initial flux of undetermined objectsbetween the las-
situde of some and the desire of others, as Breton describes the object
constituted in a field of chance encounterto the imposition of a most
determined psychoanalytic pattern of meaning, as the secret of the wooden
spoon that attracts Bretons attention is found, in that tired refrain, to be
a symbolic figuration of the male sexual apparatus.52
When pushed, the Surrealist formulation of the found object may
reveal further compromised patterns of association. In bracketing off the
avant-garde pedigree of the Surrealist approach to objects and mapping
instead its emergence in relation to its wider social milieu, Romy Golan
detects a strong correspondence between the structure of the Surrealist
object and the colonial fantasies, art markets, and commodity tastes of
1930s France.53 This adds a socioeconomic dimension to Deleuze and
Guattaris polemical assertion that Surrealism was a vast enterprise of
oedipalization.54 But that points away from our concept of the communist
object, which I will continue to develop by drawing now from the margins
of Parisian Surrealism.
Georges Batailles dissident Surrealist journal Documents (192930)
indicates a more fruitful resonance with Benjamins collected object,
through the tropes of the document and the fetish. The journals title
announces its obsessions, its pages filled with what it understood to be
documentssuch things as Hollywood film stills, images of abattoirs,
prayer scrolls, coins, flies, flowers, and works by Giacometti, Pablo Picasso,
Andr Masson, and the latters young daughter Lili. This list indicates
the ethnographic leveling at work in the trope of the document, breaching

divisions between artifact and art, while heightening appreciation of the
heterogeneity and material specificity of each documented entity. As Denis
Hollier describes it, the document signifies less a sur-real experience than
a realist condemnation of the imagination: in its alien heterogeneity,
the document presents a material and antimetaphorical shock-value.55
This formulation recalls my discussion of the destabilizing shock of the
object in Marx and Benjamin. But to this Hollier adds an additional aspect,
irreverently presenting these qualities through the category of the fetish,
a point he seeks to convey with this quotation of Bataille, from an essay
in Documents 8: I challenge...any art lover to love a canvas as much as
a fetishist loves a shoe.56
If one keeps in mind that the fetishism being developed here is not
the psychosexual kind (despite the choice of Batailles Freudian example),
then Holliers formulation is most helpful. I touched on this earlier, with
Stallybrasss astute observation that commodity fetishism is an inver-
sion of the history of fetishism, in that it is a fetishism not of objects but
of suprasensible value. Now we can go further, beyond Marxs playful
inversion, and claim the fetish for communism, the communist object
as anti-commodity fetish. As Peter Pels elucidates in his reckoning with
the spirit of matter (working with William Pietzs exemplary three-part
work on fetishism in the journal Res), a fetish is a destabilizing object, an
anomalous singularity whose lack of everyday use and exchange values
makes its materiality stand out and threatens to overpower its subject.57
In this sense, the notion of the fetish is proximate in structure and effect to
Benjamins collected artifact. But there is an aspect of the fetish that sheds
light on a feature of the communist object that is less overt in Benjamin,
its persistent interaction with the commodity form. As Pietz shows, the
fetish, as both object and idea, is a cross-cultural entity, one arisen in
the encounter of radically heterogeneous social systems and having no
proper existence in a prior discrete society.58 The concept originated in
the efforts of seventeenth-century Dutch merchants to account for what
they perceived to be the irrational attribution of value in West Africa to
arbitrary objects; what was valued was not the universally exchangeable
object of money but any trifle that took an Africans fancy.59
The fetish only existed, then, in the encounter of noncapitalist and

capitalist value systems. And if we can deploy it todaygiving a positive
valence to this category born of mercantile plunder and misrepresentation,
and no longer using it to name a relation in need of demystificationthen
it is this feature that lends itself especially well to thinking the communist
object. Characterizing the communist object as a fetish helps hold together,
as necessary complements, both its excessive materiality and its disrup-
tive interaction with the commodity form. It is a compound apparent in
this description from Pels:
The fetish is an object that has the quality to singularize itself and disrupt
the circulation and commensurability of a system of values....Its singu-
larity is not the result of sentimental, historical or otherwise personalized
value: The fetish presents a generic singularity, a unique or anomalous
quality that sets it apart from both the everyday use and exchange and
the individualization or personalization of objects.60
With the fetish, we have come full circle: from the commodity fetishism
that is challenged and unmasked as the atomizing subjection to a-material
value to a fetishism of unbound and disruptive materiality that operates
against the commodity, troubling its values of exchange and use and their
structures of production, consumption, and subjectivity. At risk of being
overly schematic, this invites a statement of the principal lineaments of
the concept of the communist object drawn from the discussion so far.
As comrade, the communist object exists on a plane of equality with
the human, so amplifying the sensory exchange between organic and
inorganic matter and unsettling the affective organization of the capital-
ist subject. It is an object of neither utility nor commercial exchange
closed and dead as these commodity values arebut one open toward
undetermined circulation and destruction. This is a circulation that is
not found in laboring practice and market exchange but in fleeting and
permeable arrangements or collections that call forth the objects sin-
gularity, its intensive expressiveness. Yet the communist object is not a
rarefied other to the commodity; the passional and destabilizing bond
it produces emerges in the midst of the everyday objects and desires
of commodity culture. And here it has something of a fetish character;
it is not a discrete or fully achieved entity but an excessive materiality that

emerges only in its disruptive intersection with commodity values. This
is an abstract presentation of the concept of the communist object, but
the intensive expressiveness of matter that it champions necessitates that
it be approached as always already enmeshed with, and shaped by, the
singular properties of particular objects. While displaying these generic
features, the communist object is existent, then, only in its manifold
concrete expressions. It is one of these, the small press pamphlet, to
which I turn shortly.
Printed Matter
Before considering the pamphlet, I want to address the broader question

of how the concept of the communist object might assay the particular
features of printed matter, where objects combine with text. The book and
its margins may seem an all too obvious place to find communist objects,
given the relatively free rein that textual media has given to the expression
of communist ideas. But that would be to focus on textual media only in
terms of its content, not its artifactual forms and broader sociomaterial
relations. Editions of Marxs Capital, for instance, are not wholly, or
even principally, communist objects; as Conrad Bakker has explored in
his hand-carved and -painted mail-order replicas of Capital, a dominant
modality of Marxs book is the commodity (Plate 2).61 Bakkers replica
draws attention to the social relations of labor, industry, marketing, and
desire of the book qua commodity, and does so all the more effectively
for barring access to the means, the books textual content, by which such
observations can be interrogated and unfurled. Such interrogation seems
to need estranging interventions like this to overcome the strong tendency
in the economies and cultures of books and publishing to obscure the
capitalist forms of printed matter, a point I made in chapter 1. Granted,
this obscured condition has an ironic benefit in the impetus it gives books
as sites of projection beyond capital, as, in the realms of imagination, it
loosens their tethering to the determining parameters of the commodity
form: By the specific ways in which they participate in and shape the
world of goods, books allow us to believe that there is an escape from or
an alternative to that world.62 Nevertheless, what Trish Travis describes

as this transcendent identity rather discourages a politics of the rich
materiality of printed media, and it is this that I pursue here.
The media form of the book can have a strong affective allure that re-
calls the unsettling powers of the collected object; for some, the archetype
of the book is so powerful that it has a way of reaching out and grabbing
you and taking you into a dimension of itself.63 Benjamin would surely not
disagree with the tenor of this statement, because much of his formulation
of the destabilizing powers of the collection arises from reflection on his
own practice of book collecting, where the collection takes the specific
bibliographic form of the library. And yet, if he had some attraction to
the archetype of the book, some kind of generic book form, what really
grabbed him were the individual copies of books, books in their material
particularity. Moreover, Benjamins texts display a specific attraction to
forms of textual media that exist at the limits or outside of the book form
proper. In Unpacking My Library, an essay that explores the collections
dialectical interplay between order and disorder in discussion of book
collecting, Benjamin draws attention to the fringe areas of libraries,
booklike creations that strictly speaking do not belong in a book case
at all.64 These prismatic fringeshe lists stick-in albums, autograph
books, leaflets, prospectuses, handwritten facsimiles, typewritten copies of
unobtainable books, religious tracts, and pamphletsappear to articulate
in their anomalous and fragile forms the generative chaos that is the true
dynamic of a collection. One might say that in not having a proper place
in a library, they mark its essence, the library qua collection. And in One
Way Street, he goes further, positing such fringe areas against the book,
with its universal form, this time conjoining the fragmentary material
quality of such media with the situated vitality of interventionist writing:
Significant literary work can only come into being in a strict alternation
between action and writing; it must nurture the inconspicuous forms
that better fit its influence in active communities than does the preten-
tious, universal gesture of the bookin leaflets, brochures, articles, and
placards.65
Benjamins library has moved us from the material politics of col-
lecting to our specific object of discussion, the prismatic fringe of the
pamphlet. But we still need to consider the place of signifying content in

the materiality of print media. After all, books are objects with the capacity
to be highly expressive through their content. Indeed, given the soaring
achievements of text, it may well appear a perverse or tasteless move to
seek the expressivity of books anywhere else, to concentrate on books as
objects. Such an assessment is memorably dramatized in Mike Leighs
television play Abigails Party (1977), when the petty bourgeois man of
the house talks animatedly about the physical form of his volumes of
Shakespeare, their bindings, gold emboss, only to remarkit is the comic
effect that illustrates my pointthat these are not items one can actually
read. But the joke should be soured when the subject to which it appeals
comes into clearer focus. For disdain toward those who would treat books
as objects has been a central constitutive feature of the bourgeois subject
constructed in the institution of literature and the culture of books. It
is a culture entwined with the entrenched hierarchy of the senses that
descends, as Agnes Blaha describes, from vision and hearing to touch
and taste, with the European eye man at the top and the African skin
man at the bottom, to take an example of this dismal tradition from the
nineteenth-century naturalist and biologist Lorenz Oken.66 Hence, as
Leah Price has shown, in the content and cultures of the Victorian novel,
and tied to the threat that the spread of literacy presented to class distinc-
tion, it was poor illiterates, effete gentry, women, and racialized others
who were commonly portrayed as taking the wrong pole of a booktext
dichotomy. These groups at the margins of the bourgeois public sphere,
or upon whose exclusion it was structurally constituted, were deemed to
value the material of the book, while lofty abstraction in the aesthetic work
characterized the pole of value and its true subject: the proper relation
between a man of sense and his books, as the Fourth Earl of Chesterfield
had it, speaking for his class, is due attention to the inside of books, and
due contempt for the outside.67
It is cheering, then, and in keeping with our focus here, that Benjamins
critical appreciation for the value of books comes through a critique of
their socially valorized use as repositories of text: the inveterate collector
of books, he writes, proves himself by his failure to read these books.68
That orientation plays a part in what follows, in accord with Rancires
feeling that the medium of signification may sometimes be more politi-

cally decisive than the content it carries, and perhaps this precisely in its
resistance to signification. And yet textual content is part of the material
form of the book, and so we need also to have a way of working with it in
a manner that is conducive to thinking the materiality of textual media.
Here Adornos late essay Bibliographic Musings is illuminating, a work
considerably influenced by Benjamins approach to books and collecting. I
will spend some time with it, because it is a singular philosophical excursus
on the contentform relation, a relation that is central to Anti-Book and
returns in various different ways throughout.
There are limits to Adornos essay. It is too much a lament to a lost
archetype of the book unsullied by commerce; as I argued in chapter 1 and
will return to in chapter 3, there was never an Eden of the book before a
fall into the clutches of the commodity, the condition where, according
to Adorno, alternate formats, images, and loud colors (God forbid) force
us to acknowledge that books are ashamed of still being books and not
cartoons or neon-lighted display windows.69 And here Adorno holds
out little hope for the fringe areas that attract Benjamins eye; those
who would seize on a new form, such as the leaflet or the manifesto, to
express the true nature of the book in new times are only acting as secret
worshipers of power, parading their own impotence.70 Nonetheless, if we
can bypass Adornos faith in the archetype of the book and hold on a little
more before considering the fringe area of the pamphlet, the essay offers
an enticing construction of the place of content in the books materiality.
Adornos case for printed matter is made through critique of the com-
modity book. As a commodity, the book sidles up to the reader, existing
not in itself in expressive autonomy but for something other, a generic
unit of exchange ready to serve the customer.71 Along with the general
design features noted earlier, Adorno presents a particular example, a trend
to omit the paratextual detail of place and date of publication from books
title pages, so taking away the principium individuationis of books...along
with time and space, as they become mere exemplars of a species,
already as interchangeable as best-sellers, drug[s] on the market.72
This has impact on content, for intellectual engagement, which requires
detachment, concentration, continuity, is undone by the commodity
transformation of books into momentary presentations of stimuli (as

ever, our contemporary fears surrounding the decay of reading echo those
of earlier times).73 But it is Adornos work on the possibility of opposition
to the seductive drug of the book commodity that is salient to this chapter.
Adorno locates the politics of books in their capacities to resist their
owners, authors, and readers. He is well known for advocating the po-
litical value of difficult writing. As thought and language are invaded by
capitalby clichd patterns of meaning, by managed public opinion, by
the liberal fiction of...universal communicabilitywriters must cre-
ate a vacuum in language, the suspension of all received opinions, if
writing is to have any political effect. In this austere defense of modern-
ism, those who would challenge the word coined by commerce...must
recognize the advocates of communicability as traitors to what they com-
municate.74 But in Bibliographical Musings, Adorno takes a different
route, attending to the disruptive capacities not only of language but also
of the form and materiality of the book itself. Books lose their owners, he
writes, they fall apart, they reveal their errors to authors only after having
taken the solidity of print. They mock attempts to recall their content or
to find quotation, as though they were seeking revenge for the lexical
gaze that paws through them looking for individual passages and thereby
doing violence to their own autonomous course, which does not want to
adjust to anyones wishes.75 With this last point, Adorno moves from
concern with the physical form of books to consideration of its interplay
with content, which is what concerns us here. I will appraise this with
regard to his comments on Marx.
If a limited number of Marxs statements are spouted like quotations
from the Bible, the form of Marxs writing otherwise defends itself by
hiding anything that does not fall into that stock of quotations.76 Adorno
traces this through the feeling Marxs work often conveys of having been
written, as it often was, as commentary and marginalia, a condition that
in the volumes of Theories of Surplus Value becomes almost a literary art
form, a conspiratorial technique, perhaps unwittingly so, that expresses
an antisystematic tendency in an author whose whole system is a critique
of the existing one.77 In such instances are revealed the singular politics
of the book as media form. For the commodity book is not challenged by
the meaning of Marxs antisystematic critique of the capitalist system, or

his resistance to quotation as such; the significant feature is the exchange
between the two, a mimetic relation between meaning and form as the
two heterogeneous domains are momentarily held together in an expres-
sive unity that operates somewhere between language and object, what
Jameson, in his essay on form in Adorno, calls a poetic object.78
The nature of this mimetic quality of books becomes clearer in Ador-
nos detour through musical notation, whose graphical elementsnotes
lines, heads, the arcs of their phrasesare not only signs but also images
of what is sounded.79 We should expect the same of language, Adorno
argues, but here the primacy of meaning, of the conceptual-significative
aspect, leaves the mimetic moment much more extensively suppressed
than it does in music.80 Indeed, it survives only in the eccentric features
of what is to be read.81 We have seen this in his comment on resistance to
quotation in Marx, though Adornos interpretation of Prousts stubborn
and abyssal passion for writing without paragraphs is perhaps more in-
structive.82 Again, the reader is resisted, but in a way that foregrounds the
visual and spatial qualities of writing and printing: [Proust] was irritated
by the demand for comfortable reading, which forces the graphic image to
serve up small crumbs that the greedy customer can swallow more easily,
at the cost of the continuity of the material itself.83 Against this, Prousts
sentences, in their polemic with the reader, come to resemble the written
content, in a mimetic mode of writing that transforms Prousts books into
the notes of the interior monologue that his prose simultaneously plays
and accompanies.84 Significantly, this mimetic exchange between content
and form is not limited to elusive quotation and the graphic arrangement
of the page but can be woven out of the range of a books material and
paratextual features:
The eye, following the path of the lines of print, looks for such resem-
blances everywhere. While no one of them is conclusive, every graphic
element, every characteristic of binding, paper, and printanything, in
other words, in which the reader stimulates the mimetic impulses in the
book itselfcan become the bearer of resemblance. At the same time,
such resemblances are not mere subjective projections but find their
objective legitimation in the irregularities, rips, holes, and footholds
that history has made in the smooth walls of the graphic sign system, the
books material components, and its peripheral features.85
Such mimetic resonance is of course difficult to fathom: What books

say from the outside, as a promise, is vague (though, in that lies their
similarity with their contents).86 And so the role of the engaged reader
is central. If some mimetic resemblances come forward, have a certain
objectivity in a work (Prousts antiparagraphs, for example), the reader
stimulates the mimetic impulses in poring over the breadth of the
works semiotic and material components for resemblance. Chance too
is decisive, the poetic object of mimesis being a contingency temporar-
ily transmuted into necessity, in Jamesons characterization.87 Nothing,
hence, is conclusive, but it is possible to refine this sensibility, and to the
degree that the closest, most intimate relationship to books is one that
needs not read them. And so we return to the collectors relation to books,
only now, paradoxically, in not reading books we achieve the most pro-
found relationship not only to their material form but also to their content:
the ideal reader, whom books do not tolerate, would know something
of what is inside when he felt the cover in his hand and saw the layout of
the title page and the overall quality of the pages, and would sense the
books value without needing to read it first.88
With Adornos account of the mimetic experience of books, we have
a particular rendering of the self-differing exchange between content and
form that I proposed in chapter 1 to be a central feature of the anti-book.
In this context Adorno does a considerable service in emphasizing that we
are not necessarily in a specialist field of book production, for even great
works of literature and philosophy can only be fully experienced in such
relationship to their form. And yet it is at the same time a politics of the
book that appears limited to such worksaside from Marx and Proust,
Adorno mentions in these terms Kafka, Kant, Schiller, Baudelaireand
one that is both rare and dying. It also seems to be contained by a limited
number of features of the book (bindings, paratext, paragraphs) and its
circulation (being damaged, lost); should the author or publisher seek
a more experimental trajectorythat is, head off more overtly on the
path that will become the bookworkhe receives short shrift: Books
that refuse to play by the rules of mass communication suffer the curse
of becoming arts and crafts.89
Having learned from Adornos reading of the contentform relation
in books by the great authors, it is time to turn to the pamphlet, a printed
medium of considerably more minor provenance that has, nonetheless,
had a persistent presence in radical scenes for some four hundred years.90
To introduce what follows, the discussion moves from the fragmented
circulation and compact folds of the pamphlet, through its self-institutional
properties, its base and outmoded physical composition, and its ephem-
eral duration, before ending with a discussion of its unpopular inter-
ventions on the terrain of the public and the book commodity. Each of
these dimensions of the pamphlet is pursued as it is appears in concrete
publishing projects, and each draws out one or more of the features of
the concept of the communist object. I do so in a fashion that seeks an
exchange between particular pamphlets and the concept of communist
object, expanding understanding of each while maintaining a sense of
the processual openness inherent to that concept, a concept that sheds
light on but does not determine the concrete field it surveys. In parts, I
discuss the textual content of these printed objects, though the overriding
tendency here is to approach content only insofar as it finds mimetic or
self-differing relation to pamphlet form, such that it is more the political
and conceptual orientation of a pamphlets content that comes into view
than its specific arguments. In other parts, I make no mention of textual
content, in keeping with the thesis of the communist object, that mute
materials and the nontextual dimensions of textual media are means of
political expression in their own right.
Fragmented Circulation and Compact Folds
In its resistance to conventional circuits of exchange and use, the pamphlet

qua communist object necessarily circulates with a degree of autonomy
and contingency. It is a feature that can be discerned through some com-
parison with the medium of the journal. In contrast with the cumulative
thematic concerns and sedimented intellectual habits of a journalthe
homogenizing tendencies of this periodical formone of the defining
experiences of reading a pamphlet is encountering a particular and focused

discourse that is unmoored from a familiar and prestructured critical
environment. Pamphlets are discursive fragments, isolated units that
tend to be disseminated without the intellectual and institutional author-
ity of an established and sanctioned discourse. This observation on the
discursive form of pamphlets is simultaneously an observation on their
circulation as objects. Lacking the institutional infrastructure, distribu-
tion, and temporal pacing that order and distribute periodical publications
through time and across space, pamphlets tend instead to be circulated by
varied and discontinuous informal flows and associationsfriendships,
chance encounters, political events, and the bookfair margins of the book
trade. Johanna Drucker presents this as an aspect of printed matter that
bookworks make their own, an independent life, a potent autonomy,
an animate quality. Books, because they have the capacity to circulate
freely, are independent of any specific institutional restraints (one finds
them in friends houses, motel rooms, railroad cars, school desks). They
are low maintenance, relatively long-lived, free-floating objects.91
We need to be a little careful here, for this is in part the ideology of the
book commodity, the autonomy of the bourgeois subject finding a comple-
ment to his freedomapparently determined only by his personal will and
intellectin the vaunted autonomy of the book, equally undetermined by
base social relations. As Price puts it of Victorian ideologies of the book,
the self-made reader...implies a self-propelling text.92 Nonetheless,
Drucker is surely correct that books have the capacity for a relatively high
degree of autonomy and contingency in their circulation, and this capacity
is something that the pamphlet form makes its own, with its self-published,
unmarketed, and often extracommercial properties. It is a characteristic
foregrounded in Iain Sinclairs remark about the newsletter published by
the London Psychogeographical Association (LPA), established by Fabian
Tompsett of Unpopular Books: This anonymous, unsponsored, irregular,
single-sheet squib is probably the most useful of all Londons neighbour-
hood tabloids. And certainly the most entertaining. It has no fixed cover
price and no distribution. If you need it, it finds you.93 We do not need
to follow Sinclair in attributing intention to the pamphlet to see in this an
appreciation of the intensive quality of the chance encounter and a feeling
that such encounters arise from and confirm an open and unknowable field,
that which Jason Skeet and Mark Pawson indicate when writing of self-
publishing that it will always remain impossible to see the whole picture. A
random sampling at a single point in time is the best youre going to get.94
If this haphazard mode of circulation gives to the pamphlet a quality
of contingency and surprise, it also leaves it as a necessarily self-sufficient
form. Rather than sidling up to the reader, unfurling across social space
through an established infrastructure of production and consumption (as
does the periodical journal, the work by a renowned author, or the best-
seller book), the pamphlet as fragment holds back from the social world,
circulating instead as a closed and compact object. This has an aesthetic
quality, as the small press Guestroom conveys when it describes its core
interest as constituted on the love of books,...the compactness of the
space they create.95 It is a quality central to Mallarms understanding
of the book. I refer not to his often cited spiritual formulation of the total
bookall earthly existence must ultimately be contained in a book
but to a rarer feature of his conception, his appreciation of the dense and
compact nature of books, their folding of time and matter: their thickness
when they are piled together; for then they form a tomb in miniature for
our souls.96 How are we to understand this folded compactness? Deleuze
provides an answer in the gloss he gives to Mallarms somewhat eso-
teric construction. This is the book as monad with multiple leaves, a
particular selection or contraction of the world that is at once a specific
world absolutely different from the others and that which constitutes
and reconstitutes the beginning of the world, a self-enclosed vessel ready
to burst open.97 We encounter the book as monad, then, as the extraor-
dinary energy of a compact fold of pages at the limit of unfolding.98
Yet surely Mallarms book qua folded monad conjures images of
hefty leather-bound tomeseven of the book as total work, total world,
to anticipate a theme from chapter 3quite the opposite of the negligible
volume of the pamphlet? Adorno would seem to be thinking in such terms
when he describes the book, in Mallarman fashion, as self-contained,
lasting, hermeticsomething that absorbs the reader and closes the lid
over him, as it were, the way the cover of the book closes on the text.99
For these are sturdy books that can stand solidly on their feet, they have
spines broad enough to support their face of crosswise titles.100 But what
if the pamphlet, which has no proper spine for titles of any kind, were
also a monad? What if its fragmentary character made it especially so?

Deleuze argues that a fragment is less an extraction from a whole, as we
might usually consider it, than a condition where there is no whole, no
totality into which it can enter, no unity from which it is torn and to which
it can be restored.101 The fragment displays the extraordinary energy
of unmatched parts, parts of different sizes and shapes, which cannot
be adapted, which do not develop at the same rhythm.102 If the sturdy
volume of the book, standing on its feet, produces and bears a feeling that
the book is a world and the world a book, the self-evident incompleteness
of the pamphlet produces the world as fragmentary, incomplete, and open,
qualities held in its slim, compact closure. It is the textual fragment, then,
and not the total book that is the true textual monad:
It is well known that the total book is as much Leibnizs dream as Mal-
larms, even though they never stop working in fragments. Our error
is in believing that they did not succeed in their wishes: they make this
unique Book perfectly, the book of monads, in letters and little circum-
stantial pieces that could sustain as many dispersions as combinations.103
This feature of the pamphlet as compact and fragmented fold has an

additional valence in the common tendency of pamphlets to comprise
previously published text. Pamphlets often consist of original textual
works, but equally often they are a selection or folding of works that have
appeared elsewhere in different forms and contexts. This is a feature of
editions by Unpopular Books, one that is often highlighted by the pub-
lisher in a manner that encourages the reader to appreciate its pamphlets
as momentary concrescences, as publication takes up a text and presses
it with new prefaces and other paratextual reframing, sending it off on
a different course. But the most curious instance I have encountered of
such reflexive refolding is a small press edition of Jacques Camatte and
Gianni Collus text On Organization, copublished in North America by
New Space and Beni Memorial Library. The text is itself a fragment, being
an open letter that led to the dissolution of the group that was emerging
around the French communist journal Invariance in the wake of May
1968, a result of the letters critique of the racket function of political
organization (that is, the furtherance of capitalist forms of identity and
self-marketing in nominally anticapitalist milieus). But what interests me

here is another letter, written by Beni Memorial Library and included with
the posted copies of the pamphlet, a document enticingly titled The On
Organization PamphletA Bibliographic Dissection.
In a sense, this letter undermines the contingency and surprise of the
pamphlet qua monad by locating the pamphlets origin and the process
of its production, but it does so in a way that unsettles the stability that
such narrative placement might usually produce. The document informs
the reader that the pamphlet comprises two texts that were sent to New
Space (a Chicago book shop favorably inclined toward ultraleft currents)
from Savona, Italy, most likely from the publisher of Camattes Italian edi-
tions, Edizioni International, but that the package was sent anonymously,
with no identification of the translator, publisher, or distributor, describ-
ing only the texts original publication details in Invariance. The U.S.
publisher goes to some length to highlight these details, even including
in the document mock-ups of parts of the cover sheets that identify the
original publication sources. But above all, the document makes apparent
that here is a printed letter about a pamphlet that is a reprint of the text
of a letter that had been published twice before, in the same journal, one
time with a new preface. It is a textual fragment that has sustained many
combinations indeed: folds in folds, over folds, following folds.104 The
letter also describes in considerable detail the physical shape and format
of the original documents and the subsequent processes of printing the
pamphlet. On Organization, hence, is not only a textual folding but an
artifactual one also, as it folds and unfolds from one concrescence to the
next, from mimeographed, black on white, 21 29.5 cm, corner-stapled,
unillustrated, as the account commences, to making plates, offset print-
ing about 1500 copies, and collating, folding, binding, as it draws to an
end.105 And finally, just as the anonymity of the original package unsettled
conventional paradigms of distribution, which integrate parties and ob-
jects in networks of money and obligation, the bibliographic dissection
seeks to ensure that the pamphlet endures as a contingent and unbound
fragment: as with everything I distribute, I do not wish to put anyone
under any obligation to do anything. Also, though I am poor, donations
of money are gratefully refused.106
Vulnerable Powers of Institution
The compact nature of the pamphlet as folded monad generates something

of an intimate quality in its encounters, in its collections or permeable
associations, but where the intimate, to recall my earlier discussion, is
also an extimate relation. It is an affective aspect of printed matterwhat
Drucker calls the densely informative immediacy and intimacy of the
experience provided by booksthat has a prominent place in the under-
standing of the pamphlet developed by Infopool.107 Manifesting the fetish
quality of a communist object, Infopools formulation of the unsettling
material qualities of the pamphlet emerges in part through its encounter
with commodity values, as described in the Infopool text Operation Re-
appropriation. As we will see shortly, the text addresses a violation of the
pamphlets communist form that occurred when some Infopool editions
crossed the threshold between two very different kinds of collection to
become part of a major exhibition at the Tate Modern museum.
Based at times in London and Copenhagen, Infopool (20002009) was
a collaborative writing, print, and Internet project established by the visual
artist Jakob Jakobsen. It intersected with the research, exhibition, and so-
cial spaces of the East London Info Centre (199899) and the Copenhagen
Free University (20017). As Henriette Heise and Jakob Jakobsen describe
it, Infopool was founded on a commitment to self-publishing as a vector
of activity and thoughtusually fueled by pleasure/disgust/lack, and an
investment in the wider processual and associational properties of media
across the boundaries of art and politics.108 In terms of the content of the
pamphlets, some comprise single essays, notably Howard Slaters text on
the Scandinavian Situationists, Divided We Stand (Infopool 4). But there
is a decided R&D orientation to the pamphlets, apparent for example in
Infopool 8, a self-reflexive text and interview by and with Emma Hedditch
on the process of writing an essay on the conceptual artist Adrian Piper,
and Infopool 6, a photo essay by Stewart Home concerned to discover
America while journeying through Britain. Other instances pertain to
Jakobsens art practice. Infopool 1, for example, includes texts on his
experiments with the use and disuse of modernist objects, on experienc-
ing one site in another through transposing imagery of the 1976 Seveso
chemical disaster to the streets of south London, and on the domestic

synthesis of plastic and beer. I consider the physical properties of these
pamphlets in a different part of this chapter, but suffice to say for now
that they are A5-size with metallic-silver covers that are uniform except
for the different number and date of each edition.
Commonsense views of media chronology would see online avail-
ability of the Infopool texts as invalidating the pamphlet as a pertinent
form, but Infopool had a more post-digital sensibility and saw it quite
differently. Online availability relieves the pamphlet of the function of
content dissemination, allowing other qualities and dimensions to come
forward into expression, not least of which is the pamphlets self-positing
character. These are self-institutional entities, as Infopool describes
itthey establish contexts and incite affects and modes of association:
Taking the form of pamphlets is not irrelevant. Using a small press, or

post-media form, implies that they are documents that are circulated in
extremely small numbers. They are, in a sense, intimate and specific and,
crucially, the communication they aim for is one that is unmediated. In
short the pamphlets, infopool projects, are concerned with developing
their own contexts.109
We are in the domain of Benjamins collected object, its intimate ca-

pacity to have unsettling, extimate effects, though here the shock of
encounter takes a specific and nuanced form. The permeable contour
of self-institution has an explicitly collective dimension and a fledgling
quality, infused with vulnerability.110 As Infopool describes it, without
formal institutional structures or copyright protection, the pamphlets
extend only a contract of trust concerning sensitivity toward content
and aim in an unprotected offer of communication.111 That may sound
like a weakness, but it is in fact a signal feature of the self-institutional
object. Since, in contrast to instances of political expression that are
the products and bearers of institutional norms and regularities, this
vulnerability affirms precisely the pamphlets emergent quality, its exis-
tence only in the open, exploratory, and intimate institutions that are
articulated, or held, in its encounters. It is hence no contradiction to say, as
Jakobsen has it, that the vulnerability of the pamphlet is also its power.112
It was most likely something of this self-institutional quality that ap-

pealed to the curators of the Tate Moderns 2001 Century City exhibition,
when it chose, without notification or consultation, to bind together three
Infopool pamphlets in newly fortified covers, doctor the cover text, and
display the artifact threaded on a presentation wire (Figure 2). As Info-
pool see it, the museums interest in these pamphlets is exemplary of the
valorization of socializationthe commodification of social relations
that seek to escape the commoditythat is common to contemporary
cultural institutions as they cast around for content and legitimacy. In this
particular case, it shows the inability of the Tate to understand and handle
the very qualities of form, intimacy, and association that had caught the
curators attention in the first place. For in its new guise, the pamphlets
values of tentative and emergent self-institution were converted, with
proprietorial disregard, into exhibition valuethe value, as Arvatov has
it, of murdered objects hidden under glass.113 The only adequate
response was for Infopool to liberate the artifact from exhibition, docu-
menting their Operation Re-appropriation with a damning critique of
the museums blunt and clumsy action:
On display in a new hardback cover and threaded through with wire (the
new vitrine) the pamphlets take on an aura that undermines both their
form and content. They are no longer able to be passed on, given as gifts,
and circulated to friends and fellow travelers i.e. to be self-institutional.
In short the pamphlets have been commodified beyond their informal
and nominal 1.00 price. The generator of value that is the Tate Modern
has allotted them an immaterial cultural value (prestige, distinction) in
exchange for the appearance of the value of their autonomy....We picked
the pamphlets up on Friday February 9th. To negotiate their exit would
have taken too long.114
Barbaric Asceticism
Having moved from the pamphlets fragmented circulation and compact

folds to its self-institutional capacities, we can turn now to focus on the
more immediately physical properties of this medium, starting with paper.
Far from a mere substratum or support, paper is a complex and sensual
entityfor Derrida, paper...gets hold of us bodily, and through every
Figure 2. Reappropriated Infopool.
senseand is intrinsic to the pamphlets peculiar physical and sen-

sory form.115 In his anatomy of the emergence and form of the pamphlet
in early modern Britain, Joad Raymond shows that the properties and
economies of paper had a central place.116 The early modern pamphlet
was a stitched rather than bound quarto, a size that allowed for the use
of smaller, cheaper paper at a time when this material comprised up to

three-quarters of printing costs. It would typically number between one
and twelve sheets, giving between eight and ninety-six pages in total, and
would normally be produced in editions of 250 to 1,500. Raymond places
considerable emphasis on its physical attributes, arguing that some of the
most fundamental aspects of the pamphlet were its appearance, size,
weight, texture, readers knew what a pamphlet looked like, and how it
felt in the hand.117 The feel, ragged form, and relative lack of commercial
value also played a role in the meaning and cultural associations of the
early modern pamphlet, which, though it rose to some degree of recogni-
tion and influence in the seventeenth century, existedunlike the manu-
script, the book, and, later, the newspaperas a somewhat disreputable
entity. This is especially clear in Raymonds assessment of the common
perception of this medium in the late sixteenth century: Pamphlets were
small, insignificant, ephemeral, disposable, untrustworthy, unruly, noisy,
deceitful, poorly printed, addictive, a waste of time.118
Something of this base and ragged nature persists as a defining feature
of pamphlets and associated inconspicuous media forms throughout the
twentieth century. The Russian Futurist books and pamphlets of the 1910s
were produced in very small editions using cheap paper and ephemeral
materials, including burlap and wallpaper (as we will see in chapter 3). In
the clandestine samizdat of the Soviet bloc, the functionality of carbon
paper for illicit domestic reproduction made it a common material, and
even today, with popular access to desktop publishing, strategies deployed
in self-publishing often eschew the overly smooth and professional visual
aesthetic (typified by Wired magazine) that such technologies enable.
Tompsett, for instance, describes the contemporary possibilities of using
an old Roneo mimeograph machine, with its poor register, to play with
color and bleedentropy in printas a challenge to much contempo-
rary design that he finds so slick that it induces ones gaze to slide off
the page.119 Similarly, the physical attributes of pamphlets continue to
be central to their material and sensory nature: their texture and feel, the
variable smell of paper dependent on age and condition, the quality of
the print, the physical act of turning the page. It is not necessary to pose
a hard opposition between analogue and digital media to recognize the

specific properties and pleasures of print:
All books are visual....All books are tactile and spatial as welltheir
physicality is fundamental to their meaning. Similarly, the elements of
visual and physical materiality participate in a books temporal effectthe
weight of paper, covers, endpapers or inserts, fold-outs or enclosures all
contribute to the experience of the book.120
An attention to such physical qualities of the pamphletwith Arvatov,

to the deepest sense of thingsis an enduring theme in Infopool. In-
sistent on the coimplication of material, conceptual, and social aspects
of this medium, Jakobsen talks of Infopool pamphlets as articulating an
everyday materiality, a materiality of available means. Unlike the fin-
ished object of the mass-produced and perfect-bound book, the pamphlet
tells a story through its material, one that foregrounds the process of
its production, or the practical task of developing a pamphlet as an
individual, as a little entity.121 The vulnerable and emergent nature of
Infopools self-institutional gesture has a correspondence, then, with the
story the pamphlets tell of their simple fabrication. These pamphlets were
produced in relatively inexpensive fashion with photocopied paper and A5
covers assembled from metallic-silver card purchased from an east London
remaindered-stationery shop. The cover text includes a combination of
print and script numerals, playfully indicating the handwrought nature
of the object while, in the contrast between the two graphic technolo-
gies, foregrounding the pamphlets existence at the interface of different
technologies of production.
There is also a revaluation of materials here, following a concern
with the pamphlets processes of emergence and dissipation. Jakobsen
explicitly addresses this theme in a text that troubles the notion of the
new through the construction of a table from discarded materials, a
table connected to the self-institution (as site of display and discussion)
of Infopool pamphlets.122 Here Jakobsen comments on Baudelaires rag-
picker (a figure Benjamin closely associates with the collector) in terms
of the creation of value from the gray zone between waste and utility,
a practice that is disavowed in the Global North by the consumer object

and its temporal pattern of novelty and obsolescence. Yet for Jakobsen,
the revaluation of material is not simply extant in economy; rather, it seeks
to tarry with the commodity form, unsettling the social and economic
partitions of waste and value as the waste material is enlivened in its new
social arrangements.
The destabilizing effects of waste have a further role to play in the
pamphlet form. I noted earlier that digital media have freed up pamphlets
from the function of content dissemination to take on other qualities and
roles, but that post-digital assessment left something out. Is there not, all
the same, an outmodedness to the pamphlet, as a form now eclipsed by
the digital? We could still account for contemporary interest in the pam-
phlet form, considering it to be a product of the forms final illumination,
a medium intensely appreciated at the moment of its extinction.123 But
I find that Benjaminian construction unsatisfying, preferring Adornos
variation on this theme. He shows interest in outmoded media, but less
from the perspective of their imminent passing than from their enduring
relation to the newest forms, to which they stand as a persistent negation,
a barbaric asceticism. As he argues, recently outmoded media present
the opportunity to be strategically nonsynchronous with the ostenta-
tious compound of new technology and capital, which commands social
and affective adherence to the united front of the new: Progress and
barbarism are today so matted together in mass culture that only barbaric
asceticism towards the latter, and towards progress in technical means,
could restore an unbarbaric condition.124 To this end, appeal to outmoded
and unobtrusive media is not a celebration of the old but a repudia-
tion of false riches, for such media introduce a breach in the temporal
structure of the new that, paradoxically, constitutes them as the most
contemporary media: older media, not designed for mass-production
take on a new timeliness: that of exemption and of improvisation. They
alone could outflank the united front of trusts and technology.125 There
is a modernism, then, to Adornos advocacy of the outmoded, a barbaric
asceticism of media form to complement, say, the violent linguistic asceti-
cism of Samuel Beckett.126
Recalling the epigraph to this chapter, we can see now how it is that
a somewhat clunky medium at the point of obsolescencethe mimeo-
graph, a publishing technology that has had a pivotal place in modern
pamphleteeringcan be called on to repeal the book designed for com-
merce. It is an object lesson that, enticingly, Adorno put into play him-
self, in a first version of his canonical work with Horkheimer, Dialectic
of Enlightenmenta version named by the subtitle of the later work,
Philosophical Fragments, circulated among the associates of the Institute
for Social Researchthat took the form of a mimeographed typescript
with decidedly unobtrusive covers comprising brown pasteboard.127 The
value of this work can be most appreciated when related to the Dialectic
of Enlightenment. Apparently, Adornos work of readying the text for its
formal publication, as it morphed from self-published mimeograph to a
book proper, entailed that he not only moderate its Marxian terminology,
so as to ease the book and the Institute into a broad reading public, but
also drop references to the works incompleteness, so aiding its reception
as a determinate entity, a movement confirmed in the change of title.128
As such, the movement between the mimeograph and book presents an
enticing instantiation, a mimesis of sorts, of Adornos critique of the book
qua commodity, which sidles up to the reader, only one that manifests his
thesis to the extent that it undermines his book.
As for the pamphlet, to get back on track, if it is a post-digital form for
its range of expressive qualities, Adornos lesson in barbaric asceticism
is that it is also this as a result of the fissure it opens with the fixation on
the technologically new and the linear temporality of media progress.
That is not, however, the pamphlets only temporal quality.
Ephemeral Duration
Each pamphlet has a variable duration, dependent on its site and moment
of political intervention, its mode and extent of circulation, popularity
of theme, and so on; for Jakobsen, the specificity of any of these self-
publications is that they have their own time.129 Such atypical specificity
is accentuated by the ephemerality of pamphlets, their tendency to fall out
of circulation, get lost, or accumulate undisturbed in a stack of documents.

Indeed, the pamphlet has not only been rendered outmoded by digital and
online media; it has ever been treated as a disposable object, a property
clear in Thomas Bodleys interdiction against preserving pamphlets at
(what was to become) Oxfords Bodleian as media not worth the custody
in suche a Librarie.130
Such singular existence courted by destruction can articulate a per-
tinent political value, what can be called, after the fetish, a value of the
untransposable. It is a value that pervades the 56a Archive (1991).
This open access archive and reading room based at a social center in
Londons Elephant and Castle holds ten thousand plus items of radical
ephemeral mediamedia associated with direct action, anarchist, queer,
squatting, antigentrification, feminist, and communist politics.131 It was
established in part as an effect of the ephemerality of self-published media,
for as printed matter moved haphazardly through the networks of radical
groups and individuals that used the center, some of it fell out of circula-
tion to become the germ of the archive.132
Contrasting 56as archival practice with tendencies in radical librari-
anship that would preserve a set of pamphlets in a perfect-bound book,
Chris talks of ephemerality as a fundamental feature of these media ob-
jects: the ephemerality of the zine or pamphlet, thats what its about.
Zines come to you because they will.133 Pamphlets make trails through
an open set of encounters, and these encounters are registered on their
bodies.134 An attention to these characteristics is clearly in tension with
the conventional archival imperatives of completeness and preservation,
but instead of resolving the tension, the 56a Archive holds it open through
an articulation of the ephemeral qualities of the pamphlet in the archive
itself. Material continues to arrive in a largely informal fashion, and the
archive itself holds together at the edge of dissipation; the gentrification
of inner London may well commit the collection to dispersal, should
the social center be closed under pressure from property values and the
class-cleansing effects of so-called urban regeneration. And within the
archive, an emphasis is placed on a tactile relation to the media objects
collected, a sensuality, a conscious relationship to stuff, and one that
allows for decay. As Chris continues, we just have the barest minimum,
which is space full of things. And then time and climate does what it does,
or weevils, or...135
Far from suggesting that the pamphlets temporality is only immediate,
here ephemerality becomes, paradoxically, a quality that endures. It is a
quality that permeates the printed object and colors its social encounters,
providing a sense of the discontinuous and variegated nature of intellectual,
political, and inorganic time. Benjamins speculation that objects embody
times and sensations associated with previous owners and contexts can
manifest here in terms of their connection to, or expression of, particular
political events, movements, or critical currents. It is a point picked up by
Adorno. The strongest motif in Bibliographic Musings is the disfigured
book as unity-in-disruption with the damaged life of emigration, where
damaged books, books that have been knocked about and have had to
suffer, are the real books.136 But he also makes a comment about ephem-
eral political media in these terms, now on board with Benjamins taste
for prints fringe: Revolutionary leaflets and kindred things: they look
as though they have been overtaken by catastrophes, even when they are
no older than 1918. Looking at them, one can see that what they wanted
did not come to pass. Hence their beauty.137 Moreover, this catastrophic
quality appears to be intrinsic to these media forms, for this is the same
beauty the defendants in Kafkas Trial take on, those whose execution
has been settled since the very first day.138
Such an appreciation is apparent in Chriss remarks on archiving
radical media, though the ephemeral revolutionary artifact is for him
less beholden to the affect of mourning attendant upon Adornos feeling
for leaflets. This is how Chris frames the strong affective pull of original
editions of political printed matter: What is that impulse? Were not
talking about collecting trophies. Were talking about a thing that has a
desire for change, for revolutionary change.139 From the perspective of
Benjamins collector, a trophy is the integrated object of linear, historical
memorythe concern, as Leslie puts it, of the souvenir-hunter.140 In
Chriss formulation, we can detect a political inflection of a more undeter-
mined and future oriented charge, somewhat akin to the evental shock of
Benjamins collected object, where memory is involuntary, impromptu,
bouncing off objects encountered randomly. It is lucid, pre-verbal, and
coupled with euphoria.141 What is most attractive here for a communism

of objects is the meeting of matter and nonlinear time with revolutionary
history, an unstable compound that Deleuze and Guattari seek to convey
with their (somewhat counterintuitive) concept of the monument:
the monument is not something commemorating a past, it is a bloc of

present sensations that owe their preservation only to themselves and
that provide the event with the compound that celebrates it. The monu-
ments action is not memory but fabulation....[It] confides to the ear of
the future the persistent sensations that embody the event: the constantly
renewed suffering of men and women, their recreated protestations, their
constantly resumed struggle.142
That said, the monuments of revolutionary printed matter have a more

troubled relation to their own endurance than this concept implies. Indeed,
the peculiar intensity of the ephemeral printed artifact can be destroyed,
ironically, through efforts to preserve it. To explain this, we can return to
Holliers formulation of the fetish quality of printed matter. For Hollier, the
materialist document has an intrinsic and affirmative relation to ephem-
eral instantiation, to what does not last, an untransposable or evental
quality that he detects in the journal Documents itself.143 When subject to
commercial reprintingto preservation and iteration in the publication
circuits of art historythe journal loses its value: But it is for the kamika-
zes, for the most fleeting trackers of the avant-garde, those who have not
even seen two winters, that the honor of the reprint is intended. He who
wins loses.144 It is a problem that surfaces too in the conceptualization
of the political poster developed at Atelier Populaire, the occupied cole
des Beaux-Arts in the Paris events of May 1968, where it is said that some
six hundred thousand silk-screen stencil posters were fabricated in 350
designs.145 For Atelier Populaire, the integration of media with situated po-
litical practice was so tight that they not only opposed the sale of the post-
ers, or a distracted appreciation of their aesthetic value, but deemed even
archival preservation to be a violation of their singular, evental consistency:
To use [the posters] for decorative purposes, to display them in bourgeois

places of culture or to consider them as objects of aesthetic interest is
to impair both their function and their effect. This is why the Atelier
Populaire has always refused to put them on sale.

Even to keep them as historical evidence of a certain stage in the struggle is
a betrayal, for the struggle itself is of such primary importance that the
position of an outside observer is a fiction which inevitably plays into
the hands of the ruling class.146
I would not deny the importance of this move toward an immediate

and irrevocable consumption of political art in the event. But the point
to extract is that this antiarchival configuration is an expression of the
enduring vitality of an object of 1968 today, a vitality that articulates that
extrahistorical event precisely in the ephemeral objects untransposable
resistance to preservation.
If, in such ways, the ephemerality and destruction of printed works are
alloyed with the intensity of political events, the determination of these
qualities is rarely independent of broader social forces. In 1970s Italy, to
take one example, the possession of radical printed matter was regularly
used as a pretext in the mass arrests and prosecutions of individuals
involved with the Autonomia movement, such that it was common prac-
tice for militants to destroy their personal archives (a point registered on
the 56a website with a quotation from Nanni Balestrinis account of one
such episode from his novel The Unseen). And such destruction was not
only an act performed by individuals. In Antonio Negris case, following
charges against him of the publication and distribution of pamphlets
and communiqus that incite armed insurrection, his pamphlets, such
as Domination and Sabotage and Workers Party against Work, were pulped
by the publisher, Feltrinelli.147 Of course, the presence of the State in
the practice of destruction in no way negates the notion that ephemeral
media have their own time.
Unpopular Pamphlets
For the properties I have been describing, the pamphlet can be a rather
seductive object. Indeed, a certain seduction is present in its etymology,
the word derived from the Greek pamphilos, meaning loved by all, after
the lead character of a popular twelfth-century love poem and publication,
Pamphilus seu de Amore.148 The concept of the communist object celebrates
the seduction of the object, that should be clear by now, but not uncriti-
cally; generic love and popularity can be a problem, the nature of which
is tested by Unpopular Books through experiments in pamphlet form,
where the pamphlet is developed as an unpopular medium, manifest, as I
consider here, in relation to the reading public and to the commodity.
Unpopular Books was established in the late 1970s by Fabian Tompsett,
in part a product of his involvement in the cooperative print shop scene
and the Rising Free book shop and press.149 Rising Free published the
first single-volume English edition of Raoul Vaneigems The Revolution
of Everyday Life, a book that suffered from poor knowledge of binding
materials such thatin Tompsetts words, a foretaste of his rare feeling
for mimesis in publishing formit became an autodestructive com-
modity, the perfect Situationist book: it fell apart as you read it.150
The first two editions from Unpopular Books are an indication of its
somewhat unorthodox orientations: a Persian translation of Rod Joness
essay on factory committees in the Russian revolution, published in 1979
in a critical constellation with the Iranian Revolution, and an early text
on communization by Jean Barrot, playfully titled by Tompsett like
a beginners guide: What Is Communism.151 Though Unpopular Books
has published books and leaflets, the pamphlet is Tompsetts preferred
medium, a point he makes with reference to the pamphlets textual and
physical form and its processes of production: Its not bulky, ideally
you can put it in your pocket easily. Its not going to take you too long to
read, but its long enough to get somewhere. And you can make it in all
these different ways.152 We can consider some of the different ways
Unpopular Books make and problematize pamphlets with regard, first,
to the political problem of the public, once more starting with a contrast
to the media form of the journal.
Journals and formal political organizations share the need to court
and consolidate a sizeable public, in the mode of readership, market, or
membership. For a journal, this requirement is determined in part by
the financial demands of publication, whereas for an organization (and
for movement journals), it is the dominant criterion for social validation
as a pertinent political entity. By contrast, the low production cost and
the fragmentary and occasional form of the pamphlet, along with its
frequent remove from direct relation to organizations, frees it up from the

journals requirement of audience share. This makes it an ideal medium
for a communist press that seeks, as does Unpopular Books, to challenge
received political truths and the tendency of political groups and radi-
cal subjectivities toward self-flatterya press that seeks to be, in other
words, unpopularwhile destabilizing any political community that the
press itself may otherwise accrue from the prestige attendant upon such
challenge. The appeal of intellectual autonomy in this regard is readily
appreciable, notwithstanding the common attraction to dogma in political
circles, but such a willfully unpopular approach to political community
requires further elucidation.
Unpopular Books may seem a perverse name for a communist publish-
ing project, and yet one of its sources is a remark from Marx: Both of us
scoff at being popular.153 The remark is made against the emerging cult of
personality attending to Marx and Engels in the 1870s and favors instead
a formulation of communism as a distributed and self-critical process, a
process that wards off any delimiting center of attraction. The remark
is part of an epigraph to Camatte and Collus On Organization, a text
we encountered earlier, though now as included in the Unpopular Books
edition of Camattes Capital and Community. And this is one of a dozen
works published by Unpopular Books on communist theory that can be
understood, inter alia, as reworking Marxs disdain for popularity through
the critique of capital. If communism is a critical movement immanent
to the mutating limits of capitalist social relations, and not a privileged
political subject, organizational form, or repertoire of ideas, then the
popularity of any of the latter is contrary to its imperatives, serving to close
communism down to a delimited identity. Or, as Unpopular Books has
it (if I can generalize from a comment made against the enduring appeal
of the Situationist International), the popularity of a particular critical
position is a manifestation of the fact that the revolutionary movement
has yet to overcome [its] weaknesses.154
If the communist critique of social relations turns against reified
identities, organizations, and ideas, it turns also against the commodity
object; this is the second dimension of this publishers unpopularity. The
Danish press release for Debord and Jorns Mmoires, a book famously
covered by sandpaper, establishes the work as an unpopular book, doing

so not on the terrain of its textual content but on that of the commodity:
in a time where all civilized nations battle to achieve the most popular-
ity, using industrial design and mass-production of art objects and home
appliances in the world market, a very unpopular book would be a much-
needed rarity....There is too much plastic, we prefer sandpaper.155 While
this is not a direct source of the name of Unpopular Books, it is neither
an unwarranted association, for Tompsett has played a significant role in
the critical appropriation of Situationist thought, not least as (re)founder
in the early 1990s of the LPA (an organization originally established and
folded simultaneously as it fused with the Lettrist International and the
International Movement for an Imaginist Bauhaus to found the Situationist
International). Moreover, Tompsetts choice of name partook of the same
critique of the popularity of the book commodity, playing as it did with
the name and business model of the Popular Book Centre chain that was
then common to the London high street, its prominent window banners
succinctly articulating the economic dimension of the popular: popular
book centre/everything exchangeable at half price/
half back credit on all books sold here.156
That is the communist terrain, then, of the unpopularity of Unpopular
Books: against the identity of reified political communities and theories,
and against the popularity of the commodity unit of exchange. Bearing
this condition, Unpopular Books has developed a most enticing publishing
practice. While Unpopular Books shares the critique of the commodity
with Mmoires, the communist qualities of its publishing experiments are
constituted more in relation to the ideas and practices of Jorn, who, in
contrast to Debord after the 1962 split in the Situationist International,
maintained an overt commitment to a communism of art and fabrication
to a materialists love for matter, as Jorn put it.157 In the case of Unpopular
Books, this materialism is manifest through engagement with the arts and
conventions of printing and the means by which commercial and political
value are articulated with printed matter. It is important to appreciate that
aesthetic form and the critique of capital are here held close together, a
point Tompsett directly addresses in an obscure unpublished text called
kArt Boo, which details some of the interventions by this press in
publishing form. Enticingly, Tompsett does this in relation to a problematic
that is foundational for the concept of the anti-book, namely, the relation
between the artists book and communist publishing.158 If, as kArt Boo
has it, publishing is a field of strugglepublishing is war carried out
by other means, or if you prefer war is publishing carried out by other
meansthis is operative in the realm of printed form.159 The artists book
intervenes in the latter, by definition, but kArt Boo suggests that it does
so without a feeling for the conflictuality of the terrain, tending to reduce
the book to an art object, a trajectory Tompsett disparages in this wry
manner: and now, hundreds of years later, after the invention of print
and the books entry into modern commodity production, when the role
of the book is being undermined by electronic media, the book is being
abased to a level even below that of the simple commoditythe book is
being turned into Art.160 One might retort that laborthe conflictual
form at the heart of communist thoughtis a common theme in artists
books, but here it has tended to appear somewhat uncritically, with the
artists book immersed in creating a parody of the old artisanal skills of
the printer.161 By contrast, Unpopular Books has always prided itself on
the shoddiness of the finished product, wearing its critique of labor on
the printed surface of the page.162
Developing this theme, Tompsett comments thus on the labor and val-
ue of printing: when you hear the term congealed labour you think of con-
gealed ink. All the other printers do as well....We would watch the print-
ing press as the paper passed through it and imagine it squeezing value into
these pieces of paper.163 The matter that is congealed and squeezed
here is complex, comprising dimensions that are abstract as much as con-
crete, dimensions that can only be grasped with the aid of thoughtwith
critique of the commodity form. That is to say, Tompsetts reference
is to the concrete dimensions of abstract labor, where the circulation
of the print commodity determines the form and value of the congealed
labor and ink invested in its production (an observation that has consid-
erable historical purchase, given, as I noted in chapter 1, that print was
central to the emergence of the social form of abstract labor, through
its leading role in the mechanization of handicraft and the separation
of aesthetic activity from technical work).164 Not artisanal labor, then,
it is the labor of industrial printing that Tompsett refers to, a point con-
firmed in kArt Boo, where the destruction of the print unions by News
International in the 198687 Wapping dispute indexes in time and place

the more generic condition of the imposition of work.165 But Tompsetts
remark about congealed ink simultaneously gestures toward something
else in the printing process, a value of inks and papers that, as it tarries
with the commodity form of the printed object, can be understood as an
anti-commodity fetishism. It is a point made in the material form of the
Jorn pamphlet Open Creation and Its Enemies (Plate 3).
This Unpopular Books edition includes Tompsetts English transla-
tion of Jorns Open Creation and Its Enemies and his Originality and
Magnitude (on the System of Isou) with an introduction by Richard Essex
(one of the numerous pseudonyms taken by Tompsett in his unpopular
dissimulation of authorial property and prestige).166 Open Creation was
fabricated through reflexive attention to its material form in a fashion
that repeats the bibliographic self-consciousness that Raymond shows
was a common motif of early modern pamphlet culture.167 Unusually for
a pamphlet, Tompsett had it allocated an International Standard Book
Number (ISBN) and logged a copy with the British Library. In this man-
ner, it was placed and validated in the commercial field of the book as a
uniform and determinate exchangeable commodityand we should recall
from chapter 1 that it was precisely the standardizing properties of print
technology that enabled the Gutenberg book to set the example of the
modern commodity, being the first uniform and repeatable mass-produced
object.168 But Open Creation enters this field in order to trouble it, playing
with the mechanisms that constitute the pamphlet as a standardized and
determinate entity. It was printed in contravention of the ISBN alloca-
tion regulations with two different covers (though for consistency across
the pamphletsthe particular mix of colours, the same moisture
going into the paperthey were set out simultaneously on the same
A2 plates).169 A Note to Librarians on the back of each resolves this
problem, but in a way that requires the antiarchival and devaluing act
of physical destruction, for it advises that the cover, a highly designed
and attractive lithographic print, is merely a protective for the text in
transit and should be expunged to avoid confusion for future bibliogra-
phers. And the inside covers each announce different Unpopular Books
editionsA Trip to Edzell Castle and An English Haciendathat remain
unpublished, so introducing doubt into the authority and reliability tra-

ditionally associated with the institution of the publisher and the act of
print publication.
The Open Creation pamphlet is not, then, an autonomous entity
wholly outside the structural patterns of the commercial book. Rather,
as befits the fetishism of the communist object, it achieves its particular
intensive expression of matter and value by operating immanently to them,
as something of an unreliable mimic that opens a gap in the protocols and
institutions that constitute the book as commodity. At the same time, this
pamphlet cuts more directly against the commodity mode of the book.
As with other pamphlets by Unpopular Books, it has a price, but it has no
exchange value; no capital was invested to realize surplus value from its
sale. That it was hence produced as something other than a commodity is
not in itself so rare, but this fact was alloyed with other features. To take
up again the problem of labor, Tompsett has often produced pamphlets
in the downtime between commercial print runs. One might view this
as a stolen moment of unalienated work, but it is better understood as
a contemporary instance of the unsettling of work and its identities that
Rancire, as I discussed earlier, calls the nights of laborthe flight
from work that, paradoxically, reveals the impossibility of such flight
under the social conditions of capitalism. And when this liminal labor is
consumed, its utility can be further unsettled. For Tompsett also frames
the production and consumption of the pamphlet as constitutive of a
potlatchthe nonproductive expenditure of the extravagant gift
though in contrast to the mutual obligation of gift economies, the LPA
would surreptitiously place such pamphlets in book and charity shops
encountered on its excursions, a mode of noncontractual distribution
Tompsett calls negative shoplifting.170
With all these features, is Open Creation not a seductive object, just
like a commodity? Yes and no. An object in its commodity mode is uni-
versally enticing, it has a most empathetic soul, as Benjamin puts it:
If the soul of the commodity which Marx occasionally mentions in jest
existed, it would be the most empathetic ever encountered in the realm
of souls, for it would have to see in everyone the buyer in whose hand
and house it wants to nestle.171 By contrast, picking up again the theme
of unpopularity, Open Creation, as other small press pamphlets, has no

need to be consumed simply for the sake of turnover because it does not
valorize the labor of its production, and so it can elide such expansive
appeal. Against the dominant mode of marketing commercial books today
(even the most difficult works of theory and critique), it does not demand
the approach of a reader, to quote Mallarm once more.172 Relieved of
this, its seductionsand they are indubitablecan be emergent to its as-
sorted encounters, with all the gradations of affect and situated processes
of negotiation and unsettling that such encounters produce.
In some of those encounters, the pamphlet will have an untranspos-
able quality, a quality that is designed into an earlier version of Open
Creation. The 1994 pamphlet is actually a revised edition; the preface
notes a version published by the LPA the year earlier, in an issue of
fifty to accompany a trip to the standing stones at Calanais in the Outer
Hebrides, a Summer Solstice event associated with the commemoration
of Jorns death. There is a ritual dimension to the Calanais editionit
is something of a talisman, in Tompsetts phrasingthat establishes
the untransposable quality of this communist object. Unlike the revised
edition, this pamphlet was not a mimic in the circuits of exchange of the
book commodity but an artifact exclusive to its event, where an event can
be described, in the topological terms of Jorns text, as the constancy of
intensity and the unique feeling of the propagation of the process, the
transformative morphology of the unique.173 This evental existence is
recorded in the preface of the Calanais edition with an account of its
publication and exclusive distribution and is consolidated with a copy held
by Tompsett in a sealed envelope, posted from Calanais on the date of its
publication. A few other copies were sent (along with inserts of local plant
matter) to copyright libraries, where the envelopes take their own part
in the pamphlets untransposable form. In contrast to the instruction in
the later edition to destroy the finely crafted cover, here librarians were
advised to consider the inconsequential envelope to be intrinsic to the
publicationpostmarked, as it was, and adorned with an LPA mock first
day of issue stamp. A sticker on the seal deploys the topological trope of
nonlinearity, a mimesis with the model of open creation developed in
the enclosed text: Open with caution as effects are irreversible.
3
Root, Fascicle, Rhizome
Forms and Passions of the Political Book
There is no difference between what a book talks about and

how it is made.
gilles deleuze and flix guattari,
A Thousand Plateaus
The book as an antiworld.

michel foucault, A Swimmer between
Two Words
The place of the medium of the book in the emergence of the political
cultures and publics of the modern nation-state has been the subject of
a considerable body of research.1 Much less attention has been paid to
its role in extraparliamentary politics, orand this is where my interest
lies in this chapterto critique of the forms and functions of expressly
political books. A rare exception can be found in Deleuze and Guattaris
experimental work of philosophy A Thousand Plateaus, the second of their
two-volume Capitalism and Schizophrenia collective writing project. In
a singular philosophical appreciation for the politics of textual matter,
here the common understanding of the book as a generic instrument
of secular enlightenment is supplanted with an image of the book as
a fraught and ambivalent material entity, one entwined with a rather
troubling passion, a passion that is often most manifest in books that lay
claim to a revolutionary cause. Highly critical of the dominant mode of
the book and its associated semiotic and subjective patterns, what they
call the root-book, Deleuze and Guattari develop a set of concepts for
a fully materialist understanding of this medium and its politics and point
to the possibilities of a counterfigure, the rhizome-book. It is one of
the most persuasive and developed of modern philosophies of the book,
109
110 root, fascicle, rhizome
and yet it has received scant critical attention. This chapter proceeds as
an investigation of that philosophy through the concrete mediations of
specific books, as the problematic of the anti-book is taken up through an
analytics of the root and the rhizome.
As is apparent from my argument in preceding chapters, the materiality
in question is complex and emergent. Materiality is not a fixed property of
books but a mutable product of their physical, signifying, temporal, and
affective materials and relations, including relations brought to them in acts
of reading and other forms of productive consumption. It is well known
that a concern with the full complexity of material relations is paramount
in Deleuze and Guattaris work, and it is in bringing this materialism to
bear on the politics of the book that their critique is most distinguished
from that of other poststructuralist philosophers who have taken aim
at the book. In Derrida and Blanchot, the most renowned of these, the
book to come (as they frame the overcoming of the book qua total work)
does address the formal properties of books, but it is text and writing that
hold the singular power of transformation. In Of Grammatology, Derrida
famously puts it thus: If I distinguish the text from the book, I shall say
that the destruction of the book, as it is now under way in all domains,
denudes the surface of the text.2 John Mowitt elaborates:
By opening a space where not only the totality can be named and sum-
moned forth, but where this naming takes place within precise and thus
secure borders (i.e., the physical dimensions of the printed manuscript),
the book necessarily reifies writing, understood by Derrida, as that which
marks every border as precarious and ill-defined. In this context the text
designates that which, in its denuding, both precipitates the decline of
the book and emerges as the monstrous technology that survives it.3
True, in Derridas later essays on the subject collected in Paper Machine,

the physical and formal features of books and other mediums of textual
inscription come into the purview of deconstruction, often in inspired
ways that I make use of in Anti-Book.4 And yet these are accompanied by
a somewhat conservative attraction to books, as I noted in chapter 1, from
which the politics of media form tends to fall away. As for Blanchot, he
offers much for critique of textual media form, some of which I consider
root, fascicle, rhizome 111
in chapter 4, and it is possible to detect an influence of his formulation

of the books outside on Deleuze and Guattaris rhizome-book, and
yet, again, it is in writing that his media politics lies: The book: a ruse
by which writing goes toward the absence of the book.5
Deleuze and Guattaris materialism, then, opens new and unexplored
avenues in the politics and philosophy of the book. And yet it too presents
some problems. Despite Deleuze and Guattaris materialist conceptual
framing of the bookand, with A Thousand Plateaus, their own experiment
in the rhizome-bookthey in fact pay little attention to the concrete forms
and materials of books and publishing, leaving their typology of the book
too often in the domain of the concept alone.6 This is in marked contrast
to Deleuzes research on cinema and painting, where philosophical en-
gagement proceeds through close attention the concrete specificities of
the mediums of film and paint. It is not I think too bold a conjecture to
find the cause for this lapse into abstraction in precisely the material and
formal properties of the book that Deleuze and Guattari do so much to
reveal. Against that tendency to abstraction, this chapter pursues these
material and formal properties in ways that keep the rich materiality of
books at the center of discussion, so contributing to an understanding of
political books that is fully engaged with their concrete forms. As such,
the chapter at once sets out the contours of Deleuze and Guattaris typol-
ogy of the book and mobilizes it to assess the material properties of four
specific works: Mao Zedongs Little Red Book, Russian Futurist books,
Antonin Artauds paper spells, and Guy Debord and Asger Jorns self-
declared anti-book Mmoires.
You may already be questioning the wisdom of considering together
such disparate works, of which only Maos book fulfills the conventional
criteria of a political book (the others sit more comfortably in the analytic
framework of the cultural avant-garde). And one of these, Artauds spells,
are not books at all but single-sheet artifacts, closer to letters or artworks
on paper. Why, then, have I brought this heterogeneous group together?
Maos book is included principally because it is a paradigmatic case of
the political root-book, and yet a book about which very little has been
writtencuriously so, given its enormous sales and global impact. Investi-
gation of the Little Red Book is also an opportunity for me to honeby way
of a negative imagethe understanding of communism that inheres in

Anti-Book, in this instance by presenting a critique of Maoism and the
Cultural Revolution, a politico-philosophical system and a historical se-
quence that has had not inconsiderable presence in contemporary efforts
to revive a so-called communism for our times. The other works that
feature here are all selected because they are at once singular experiments
in the form of the codex book and textual matter and particularly enticing
examples for thinking with the concept of the rhizome-book. The hetero-
geneity of the set is part of the appeal, for I in no way wish to compose a
unified group of rhizome-books; Deleuze and Guattari, it is well known,
are not averse to finding value in the open-ended assemblage of disparate
elements. As for Artauds spells, they disrupt the classificatory schema
of the bulk of the chapters in this book, a disruption that is awkward but
not without some merit, because although I am keen to assert something
of the specificity of the media forms of pamphlet, book, and magazine,
I in no sense wish to impose strict borders between them. The specific
reason for considering Artauds spells here is that they are extraordinary
examples of textual matter as a body without organs, a concept that is
central to Deleuze and Guattaris philosophy of the book, and yet they
say nothing about the material forms of these spells, even when quoting
from their text.7 It is an enticing lacuna.
The Delusional Passion of the Book
In naming the three components of Franz Kafkas writing machine

the letters, short stories, and novelsDeleuze and Guattari exclude
his diaries, for these they remark are the rhizome itself, they touch
upon everything as the energetic milieu of Kafkas work as a whole.8 I
would not make quite such a claim for the recently published entries from
Guattaris diary, which cover the writing and publication of Anti-Oedipus.
Nevertheless, The Anti-Oedipus Papers draws that book back into the
psychological, social, and technical milieu of its composition and recep-
tion, providing insight not only into Deleuze and Guattaris own writing
machinewhich is revealed to have been dependent on a complex and
libidinally charged text flow of letters, book notes, theoretical writ-
ings, and intimate journal entries that Guattari passed on to Deleuze,
somewhat compulsively, via the mediation of Fanny Deleuzebut also

into the career of Anti-Oedipus itself.9 Amid reflection on such matters
as the damaging effect of this book on Guattaris relations with Lacan
(He wanted to see the manuscript. I retreated behind Gilles who only
wants to show him something completely finished....Impossible to back
out. Dinner invitation, next week, to lay the cards out on the table), or
his fears at becoming an established author subject to his written word
(The plane of consistency of writing doesnt let anything go, every blow
is counted. Its something that fucking sends death right up my spine),
Guattari makes this comment on the books reception: Anti-Oedipus is
being disseminated like a militant book.10
One intuitively knows what Guattari means by this formulation. A
militant book would be taken up in the arenas of political thought
and practice rather than, say, in exclusively academic circles or popular
book markets, where its consumption would take an intensive quality,
having effects of intervention and consolidation in politicized environ-
ments. It is clear that Guattari is not exactly lamenting this mode of
consumption. With Anti-Oedipus, as is well known, Deleuze and Guattari
sought to introduce a breach in Freudo-Marxism, and this at a practical
level; as Foucaults preface has it, Anti-Oedipus (may its authors forgive
me) is a book of ethics.11 Yet there is too I think some ambivalence in
Guattaris assessment. Certainly he should not have been too comfortable
with the notion of a militant book, because the repressive subjectivity
of the militanta subjectivity bound to the semiotic, organizational,
and libidinal structures of the social system it nominally opposesis the
object of much critique in Anti-Oedipus. Nonetheless, this critique did not
reach so far as to overly challenge the book-form of militancy. Indeed, the
militant consumption of Anti-Oedipus might be seen to have some cor-
respondence with its textual form. Notwithstanding the brilliance of its
critique of capitalism, Anti-Oedipus rather follows the standard structure
of a manifesto, critiquing its object through its emergence in historical
time and leading in linear fashion to its declared subject of revolution, in
this case the nonsubject of schizophrenic desire.
By the second volume of Capitalism and Schizophrenia, however,
Deleuze and Guattari had become fully cognizant of the problem. A Thou-
sand Plateaus actively attempts to scupper any appropriation of itself in the
mode of the militant book, both in its use of a nonlinear structure, where
cumulative chapters are replaced with plateaus to be read in any order,
and in its textual content, proffering as it does a fully developed critique
of militant modes of the book, which are shown to be entwined with a
religious model of subjection constituted less in the manner of inventive
critical politics than in authoritarian monomania. As the image of politics
here becomes decidedly complex, immanent to the organic, inorganic,
and semiotic conditions of planetary life, it takes with it the form of the
book, in a deliciously experimental conceptual turn.
From the first pages, readers of A Thousand Plateaus encounter a typol-
ogy of three kinds of book: the root-book, the fascicular root-book, and
the rhizome-book. These are tendencies or organizing patterns in the
field of the book, not mutually exclusive categories; in any particular book,
one would expect their copresence and interaction, albeit with varying de-
grees of prominence. But for Deleuze and Guattari, the dominant tendency,
such that they call it the classical figure of this medium, is the root-book.
The root-book is a signifying totality, an enclosed and sufficient en-
tity constituted as an image of the worldit is a representationalist
recapitulation of a reality external to it, in Daniel Selcers description.12
Here the book stands as the agent of truth and location of authority and
command, its encyclopedic pretensions attaining spiritual unity with the
totalizing word of God. It is a formation immanent to the sacred texts
of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, though Deleuze and Guattari leave
much assumed here, and so it is instructive to pursue the lineaments of
the concept of the root-book in relation to research on religion and the
book. I will limit discussion largely to Christianity, a religion of the book
for which spiritual authority is intimately identified with the word (In
the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word
was God, in the opening of Johns Gospel) and the codex. Here the
book received its highest consecration, as Ernst Robert Curtius puts it,
where Christ is the only god whom antique art represents with a book-
scroll.13 Not that this was a neat and clean relation. For James Kearney
argues in The Incarnate Text, a work that I rely on in what follows, that
Christianity proceeds through a vexed relation to the book that proved
to be highly generative.
Picking up again the notion of the book as an image of the world,

we can sketch two of numerous sources. For Francis Bacon in his 1605
Advancement of Learning, God provided two books: the volume of the
Scriptures, which reveals Gods will, and the volume of the creatures
more commonly known as the book of naturewhich reveals his power.14
These books exist in an imitative relation of complementarity, where
the essential forms found in nature are mirrored in the universal book
of Scriptures. Earlier, in his 1550 Primera parte de las diferencias de libros
que hay en el universo, Alejo Venegas conceived of the book as an ark
and depository of divine knowledge. As Walter Mignolo explains,
for Venegas, the human book has two functions: to know the creator
of the Universe by reading His Book and, at the same time, to censure
every human expression in which the Devil manifests itself by dictating
false books.15
The essential structure of the root-book is clearly evident in these
two influential expositions of the book. As it creates an imitative image
of nature, the book presides, through the law of reflection, over the split
between book and world. Severed from the world and, as such, pristine
in its spiritual autonomy, the book is also a vector of authority, as is clear
in Venegas: the ark of the book both enjoins subjection to Gods Word
and ensures against false books. In this structure of the book as spiritual
authority, we can trace also a source for the split between text and mate-
rial form, and the concomitant denigration of the latter, that has been so
persistent a feature of modern book culture. It is very much a story of the
Reformation. An influential feature of Christian veneration of the book in
the Middle Ages was the Aristotelian coincidence of truth and being, a
quasi-synonymy...of pagina and doctrina, liber and scientia.16 But with
the Reformation, things took a different course. As Kearney shows, Prot-
estantism, with its Lutheran slogan solo scriptura, was an intensification
of the book within a religion of the book, as the word and the medium of
the book were reaffirmed, against ritual and the trappings of the Church,
as the source and means of Godly authority. And yet the Reformation book
contains a structural ambivalence, in Kearneys formulation, one that
exacerbates a tension at the heart of Christian thought.17 For the physical
book was at once the vehicle for spiritual transcendence of the material
world and part of that fallen world, a sign that humanity had been exiled
from direct communication with Gods Word. As Martin Luther put it,
if Adam had remained in innocence, this preaching would have been
like a Bible for him and for all of us; and we would have had no need for
paper, ink, pens, and that endless multitude of books which we require
today.18 The stage is set, then, for the denigration of the books media
form in favor of its textual content, as Protestants negotiate the impos-
sible position of attempting to overcome their fallen state by placing their
faith in an aspect of the fallen world.19
The Christian problematic of the book reveals further component
parts of the concept of the root-book. It is apparent from Venegass no-
tion of the book as ark that there is a mundane subject constituted in the
books truth and authority, those who would be enjoined to Gods Word.
It is a subject that is confirmed in its opposition to those who venerated
the book as artifact: to Catholics, whose investment in splendid books
as devotional objects is vividly illustrated by the sometime practice of
incorporating the physical remains of saints into book covers and bind-
ings, and to non-Europeans, in relation to whom the book serves as the
canary in the Enlightenment coal mine, revealing as savages all those
who cannot understand how to read the book as anything but a fetish.20
Yet if this subject of the Word is structured against the books sensory and
material form, it is certainly not without its own passion, what Deleuze
and Guattari call a monomania of the book as origin and finality of the
world.21 They make this point about the books passional subjectivity
through an assessment of the place of this medium in the semiotic system
they call the postsignifying regime of signs. I present Chinese Maoism
as an example of this postsignifying regime later, but it is useful first to
sketch its principal characteristics.
We make an error in thinking that our linguistic or signifying system,
where signs comprise an arbitrary connection between signifiers and
signifieds in endless chains of relation, has any particular uniqueness
or privilege in the history of expression. In fact, Deleuze and Guattari
argue that there are numerous different semiotic systems, or regimes of
signs, of which the postsignifying regime (also called the passional,
subjective regime) is particularly pertinent to discussion of the book.
As analytically distinct from the signifying regime (if rarely empirically

so; all societies have a mixed semiotics), the postsignifying regime of signs
is an active rather than ideational semiotic system. That is to say, it
is characterized not by the endless cycle of interpretation of signs but by
concise formulas conducive to passional, subjective action. In the signify-
ing regime, the radiating network of signification is anchored in centers of
interpretive authority (priest, despot, learned elite, political leader, media
institution), its points of breakdown heavily coded with the negative value
of the scapegoat. By contrast, in the postsignifying regime, this signifying
network is loosened, and the scapegoat, he or she who is excluded, takes
on a positive value of active flight or betrayal. In place of the centers of
interpretive authority, local points of subjectification emerge that are
constituted through the betrayal of dominant social relations and semiotic
codes, a monomania that leads the subject on a passional vector through
a series of finite linear proceedings, each drawn, as if to a black-hole,
by the pursuit of its end. This is the semiotics of the Israelites exodus
from Egypt, the semiotics of Cain and Jonah, where the relationship to
God is constituted through flight and betrayal, in which the true man
never ceases to betray God just as God betrays man.22 Jesus, Deleuze
and Guattari write, takes this furthest: he betrays the God of the Jews,
he betrays the Jews, he is betrayed by God who turns away (Why hast
though forsaken me?), he is betrayed by Judas, the true man.23 But we are
not dealing here only with God, for there are many instances of passional
flight: the betrayal of food by anorexic subjectivities; the passional flight
of the fetishist, the shoe, say, as his point of subjectification; the mono-
mania of the amorous couple, a cogito built for two (indeed, Deleuze
and Guattari identify the Cartesian cogito as the quintessential instance of
passional subjectivation, a line of flight ever recharged by methodological
doubt, that possibility of betrayal by a deceitful God or evil genius).24 As
to the speaking subject of the passional regime, it is constituted through
a doubling or enfolding of the subject of enunciation, the emitter of
signs, the prophet (as distinct from the sedentary and signifying priest),
and the subject of the statement, the people in flight, where the latter is
bound to the utterances of the former and acts in a reductive echolalia
as its respondent and guarantor.25
Figure 3. The Ark of the Covenant, a portable packet of signs, eighteenth-century

depiction at the Battle of Jericho. Artist unknown.
Set off on flight, signification is now unmoored and mobile and so

needs a mobile ground: the Ark of the Covenant containing Mosess tablets
of Lawno more than a little portable packet of signsand no longer
the Temple (Figure 3).26 By extension, in the action-oriented formulas of
the postsignifying regime, the book emerges as the quintessential object
of mobile significationa development apparent in the movement from
the Ark of the Covenant in Figure 3 to the tablets in Figure 4, and subse-
quently to the codex, as the vessel of the Ten Commandments diminishes
in volume and gains in portability. Deleuze and Guattari argue that at this
point the book moves away from an essentially oral, nonbook character
with external referent in God or despot and instead comes to internalize
the world as the origin and source of truth and authority:
in the passional regime the book seems to be internalized, and to internal-
ize everything: it becomes the sacred written Book. It takes the place of
the face and God, who hides his face and gives Moses the inscribed stone
tablets....The book has become the body of passion....It is now the book,
the most deterritorialized of things, that fixes territories and genealogies.
The latter are what the book says, and the former the place at which the
book is said.27
Figure 4. God hides his face and gives Moses the inscribed stone tablets, 1877
lithograph. Artist unknown. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
I have elaborated on much of this passage already, but we need a little

more reconstruction to ground the formulation of the book here as the
mobile body of passion. I noted that the Reformation approach to the
book held an ambivalent relation to matter that accompanied Christianity
at origin, and it was not put to rest with the rise of Protestant veneration of
scripture. As this ambivalence is worked over in Catholic and Protestant
writing and teaching, the book as artifact and medium takes various forms,
many of which suggest empirical referents for Deleuze and Guattaris
thesis. Let me take two instances. As much as it is a religion of the book,
Christianity is a religion of the codex; though nearly all the books named
in the Old Testament are in the form of the scroll, the codex replaced the
scroll as the dominant medium of textual inscription in Christian cultures
as early as the second century of the Common Era (and, in turn, the rise
of Christianity played no small part in the gradual supplanting of the scroll
as the socially preferred medium of textual inscription).28 Intriguingly,
Christianity actively adopted here a somewhat humble and lowly object,
an ephemeral medium of little economic or cultural value. Whereas the
scroll was associated with elite culture, with sacred, literary, and juridi-
cal texts, the codex was the medium of trade and everyday transactions,
familiar, that is, to more plebeian classesassociated with women and
slaves more than citizens.29 As well as a means of differentiating this
religion from others through its chosen medium, the codex simultane-
ously, then, articulated the central Christian values of identification with
the excluded and debased, taking its pivotal place in the repertoire of
symbols of Christian value: just as a criminal executed by the state
was revealed as the godhead, so the humble codex was exalted over the
prestigious scroll.30
The Christian symbolism of the book does not stop there; it is most
acute in the common conceit of identifying the codex with a symbol of
no less importance than Christ himself. In one instance discussed by
Kearney, Christ is described as a book written within the skin of the
virgin, and the subsequent arc of his life, passion, death, resurrection,
and ascension are mapped onto the processes of production and reception
of this medium.31 In another example, John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester,
narratives Christs crucifixion through the parts of a book, pursuing the
metaphor in boards, pages, lines, text, and including this image of Christs
splayed body: First I saye that a booke hath two boardes: the two boardes
of this booke is the two partes of the crosse, for when the booke is opened
& spread, the leaues be cowched vpon the boardes. And so the blessed
body of Christ was spread vpon the cross.32
There is some evidence, hence, for understanding the Christian book
as the mobile body of passion. How about Deleuze and Guattaris point
that the book becomes the locus of authority and command? We have
seen God hide his face in the Christian trope of betrayal and, with Luther,
the book replace the Church as the location of authoritya book whose
independence from the Church is given material proof in the Protestant
trope of the book as a simple, somewhat abject artifact, and affirmed as
such against the ornate, illuminated books of the Catholic Mass. Granted,
the turn to scripture is not immediately appreciable as the pure and lit-
eral recitation without commentary or interpretation that Deleuze and
Guattari see as characteristic of the root-book and its commanding for-
mulas. And yet Luther saw Gods Word as truth without history, leaving
Catholics like Thomas More to see this as bibliolatry and radical Prot-
estants such as Thomas Mntzer to claim it to be a reification of scrip-
ture, worthless without spiritual transformation: The man who has not
received the living witness of God...knows really nothing about God,
though he may have swallowed 100,000 Bibles.33 As to Catholic teach-
ings, there is a clear seam that links passion for the book with devotional
practice in direct contrast to reading and interpretation.
All that said, if the root-book is religious in origin, it is not limited
to such formations. As Curtius shows, metaphors of the total book, as
mimetic complement to the book of nature, are found first in the Latin
Middle Ages and soon cross over from the pulpit to philosophy, where
they have featured in Montaigne, Descartes, Galileo, Bacon, Voltaire,
Rousseau, Hume, and Goethe. More pertinent for our purposes, the lead-
ing edge of culture and politics has often proven to be especially receptive
to the strangest cult of the book, a point Deleuze and Guattari make
in the strongest critical terms: Wagner, Mallarm, and Joyce, Marx and
Freud: still Bibles.34 Mallarms formulation of the book as spiritual
instrumentall earthly existence must ultimately be contained in a
bookis the clearest expression of this tendency.35 But the degree to

which Marx is subject to the passional form of the book is questionable;
indeed, in The German Ideology, Marx and Engels themselves make a direct
critique of the religious mode of the book that is remarkably resonant with
that of Deleuze and Guattari.36 Nonetheless, this defense of Marx cannot
always be made of Marxism, for the regimes where Marxism became state
doctrine were often characterized by a considerable cult of the book. It
is to one of these regimes that I now turn to discuss a specific instance
of a political root-book.
Mao Zedongs Little Red Book
It would be hard to find a book more enmeshed in its immediate environ-

ment than Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-tung, otherwise known as
the Little Red Book. It has claim to be the second best selling book in world
history, and although it trails far behind the Bible, it makes up for this in
the astonishing concentration of its production: 1 billion official copies
were published in a period of five years, between 1966 and 1971, with the
second year of the Cultural Revolution, 1967, accounting for 350 million.37
The Little Red Book was not a cause of the Cultural Revolution, yetas
is indicated by its frequent and central presence in the iconic posters and
photographic records of the periodit was an object with a considerable
agential role in inspiring, distributing, and consolidating the collective
passions of that upheaval (Figures 5 and 6; Plate 4).38 These posters and
images also speak to the significance of its material qualities, as does its
popular name, which foregrounds less the content, the quotations, than
the physical dimensions of the book and its color.
Quotations was principally a means for the transmission of the politico-
philosophical system officially known as Mao Zedong Thought, of
which it is no contradiction to say that the book was at once an oversim-
plified distillation and an articulation of its essence, insofar as the book
handled and extended the passional semiotic of Maoism. This semiotic
was manifest in concentrated fashion in the Cultural Revolution, the mass
movement with which the books fate was intertwined and the context
of my discussion here. For brevitys sake, in what follows, I have taken
Figure 5. Mao Zedong Thought is the magic weapon to victoriously combat all
enemies at home and abroad!, circa 1967. Courtesy of IISH/Stefan R. Landsberger
Collections, http://chineseposters.net/.
Figure 6. Red Guards holding aloft Maos Little Red Book: Chairman Mao is the
reddest red sun in our hearts, 1967. Courtesy of the University of Westminster
Chinese Poster Collection, http://chinaposters.westminster.ac.uk/.
the passional structure of Mao Zedong Thought to be the principal con-

tent of Quotations, though I make occasional comment about its textual
instantiations in particular works.
Whereas Maos China comprised various semiotic regimes, Mao
Zedong Thought presents a clear instance of the dynamics of the word
in the passional or postsignifying regime of signs. iek is not alone in
observing a wholly cosmic orientation in Maoism, one that bound the
Chinese people to a transcendent trajectory of liberation that Maos
Thought discerned in the movement of human and natural history.39 In
Maos understanding of dialectics, the world was essentially composed
of two major forces, revolution and counter-revolution, as he put it, a
struggle of opposites [that] is absolute.40 It was a formulation that Mao
might as equally use to appraise particular political conjunctures as he
would the likely outcome of nuclear war or the evolution of humanity.
For instance: The life of dialectics is the continuous movement towards
opposites. Mankind will also finally meet its doom. When the theologians
talk about doomsday, they are pessimistic and terrify people. We say
the end of mankind is something which will produce something more
advanced than mankind.41
This prophetic reflection of the movement of human and natural his-
tory in Maos Thought was simultaneously a separation from it, one that
protected the purity of the word against the ubiquitous contamination
of the everyday, as Robert Jay Lifton describes it.42 Hence we find that
the trope of purity and corruption is liberally peppered through Quota-
tions. For example, regarding the practice of criticismself-criticism
(an ethicopolitical technique integral to the Cultural Revolution, as I
consider subsequently), Mao writes that it prevents all kinds of political
dust and germs from contaminating the minds of our comrades and the
body of our Party.43 And in a variation of the trope, the purity of Mao
Zedong Thought is elsewhere conveyed, intriguingly for our purposes,
with the aid of a metaphor drawn from the realm of textual matter, as Mao
assesses the apparent advantages of the poor and blank condition of
the peasantry: A clean sheet of paper has no blotches, and so the newest
and most beautiful words can be written on it.44
Mao Zedong Thought, then, was a pristine truth in separation from

the world, but, in accord with the passional structure of the root-book, it
was subsequently returned to the world as authority and action. As such, it
constituted the Maoist point of subjectification, spiritualizing the word
as substance, nourishment, and energizer of an immortal revolutionary
cause. In the language of a 1966 Peoples Liberation Army (PLA) news-
paper, the thought of Mao Tse-tung is the sun in our heart, is the root
of our life, is the source of all our strength. Through this, man becomes
unselfish, daring, intelligent, able to do everything; he is not conquered
by any difficulty and can conquer every enemy.45
As to the means by which this passional subjectivity was embodied and
performed, individual identification with revolutionary immortality was
achieved in large measure through proximity with death. This is amply
evident in the three constantly read articles of the Cultural Revolution
period, two of which feature heavily in Quotations. Serve the People,
for instance, discourses on a worthy death, a death of great weight and
significance as a consequence of serving the immortal popular cause, in
contrast to the insignificant death, lighter than a feather, that arises from
assisting reactionary forces without attachment to the substance of revolu-
tion.46 The point was not to die, exactly, though this had a place as we will
see, but rather, as Lifton puts it, to cultivate such a death and thereby,
during life, enhance [ones] individual sense of immortality, ones intense
affective investment in the cause.47 A worthy death might be cultivated
while facing the enemy in the battlefield, as in Serve the People and
In Memory of Norman Bethune, but it also applied to more mundane
circumstances, where it evoked selfless dedication to the revolutionary
cause even under the most inopportune circumstances. Hence the signifi-
cance of the third of these articles, The Foolish Old Man Who Removed
the Mountains, the only text that appears in Quotations in its entirety.
Drawing from folklore, it tells of an old man who strove to dig away by
hoe two great peaks that obstructed his home. This impossible task was
foolish by conventional wisdom, but the mans unshaken dedication
to his task, to which he offered his progeny to infinity, moved God to
send two angels to carry off the mountains.48 In Maos version, God is
brought down to earth, where now the masses convert the impossible
into the possible.49 The story displays the intense subjectivism of Maos
Thought, a position that in its extreme taught that the external world was
to be appraised only as a function of subjective purity and revolutionary
will. As one volume on the study of Maos Thought put it, a propos the
attempted agricultural transformations of the Great Leap Forward, many
living examples show that there is only unproductive thought, there are
no unproductive regions.50
Maos Thought also gained traction in its ability to function at the
level of personal morality. As is apparent already, Maoism was as much
a struggle internal to the self as it was oriented toward collectivity and
external goals. In the words of Lin Biao, head of the PLA, we must regard
ourselves as an integral part of the revolutionary force and, at the same
time, constantly regard ourselves as a target of the revolution.51 This ap-
plication onto oneself of the Maoist principle of one divides into two (the
universal struggle of revolutionary tendencies against counterrevolution)
took the principal form of criticismself-criticism, but Maos Thought
also presented a set of ethical criteria and ritual practices to evaluate and
manage everyday behavior, some of which I consider shortly.
If the revolutionary subject was to embrace immortality through the
ethical limit of a worthy death, disregard for death featured more directly
in Maos socioeconomic strategies, as the catastrophe of the Great Leap
Forward (195862) confirms. Tens of millions died of starvation, overwork,
torture, and summary killing as Mao sought an ultravoluntarist route to
industrialization via the superexploitation of laborits aim crystallized
in the governing slogan Catch up with and surpass Britain in fifteen
yearswhile exporting grain during the famine to fund the import of
military and industrial technology.52 And Maos words are no less reveal-
ing than his policies, as in this framing of nuclear war, for example, from
a letter to Nikita Khrushchev: For our ultimate victory,...for the total
eradication of the imperialists, we...are willing to endure the first [U.S.
nuclear] strike. All it is is a big pile of people dying.53
Such were the postsignifying characteristics of Mao Zedong Thought
that it is no surprise that, while an early essay by Mao called to oppose
book worship, by the time of the Cultural Revolution, Maos texts had
become elevated to a fount of singular truth: the best books in the world,
the most scientific books, the most revolutionary books.54 Or, in Lin
Baos preface to the second edition of Quotations, Maos Thought was a
spiritual atom bomb of infinite power.55 Thus sanctified, Maos words also
took on the authoritarian function of the root-book that we saw earlier in
Venegas, as is apparent in the command of the Communist Party daily,
the Red Flag, to establish with utmost effort the absolute authority of
the great Mao Zedongs Thought, let Mao Zedongs Thought control
everything.56
From the passional structure of Maos Thought, we can now turn to
the textual and physical form of Quotations, a central means of its social
articulation. Quotations was initially published on a restricted basis in May
1964 under Lin Biaos direction as a vehicle for the political instruction
of the PLA. The book comprised extracts from Maos works in thirty
thematic chapters, extending to thirty-three in 1965, with 427 quotations
in all.57 Short and abstracted from the political and tactical contexts of
their initial creation, most of the quotations offered not concrete politi-
cal analysis but moral truths, trans-historical scripts for revolution-
ary praxis, as Daniel Leese and Andrew F. Jones characterize them.58
In other words, the quotations lent themselves to the ungrounded and
intensified subjectivations of Maos passional regime. More concretely,
their textual structure enabled a pedagogical practice characterized by
group learning and recitation of passages and slogans, an approach long
practiced in the PLA that became pivotal to the books use following mass
publication in 1966. Lin Biao described the benefits of such pedagogy
thus: Learning the writings of Comrade Mao Zedong is the shortcut
to learning Marxism-Leninism. Chairman Maos writings are easy to
learn, and once learned can be put to use immediately.59 While such a
group-work approach to the shortcut of learning clearly has progressive
features, its proximity to authoritarian signifying patterns is also apparent.
As an active rather than ideational semiotic structure, Deleuze and
Guattari argue that the concise formulas of the root-book require only
identification, as interpretation gives way to pure and literal recitation
forbidding the slightest change, addition, or commentary.60 That this
was a feature of Maos regime is often noted in the critical literature, but
it was also actively affirmed, as is apparent from the words of a Shanghai
newspaper from 1967: We must carry out Chairman Maos instructions
whether we understand them or not.61 One might question the degree to

which such rote learning could truly secure enduring identification, but
Leese has argued that, combined with efforts to solicit strong emotional
response from the text, rote repetition offered certainty and security amid
the social disorientation that followed the Great Leap Forward. It may in
fact have been the need to in this way contain the impact of the famine
that was the impetus for Lin Biaos adoption of this pedagogical practice,
and hence for compiling Quotations in the first place.62
The passional activation of Quotations was constituted, then, in the
structure of its content and pedagogical mode of reception, but it also
took shape in the books wider material properties. Jones argues that the
pocket-sized portability of the Little Red Book, and perhaps even its tal-
ismanic character, was in part an extension of the underlying logic of the
quotation as a literary genre, the promiscuous capacity of quotation to
circulate as an integrated and autonomous unity abstracted from specific
context.63 True, there is correlation between the books quotational and
physical forms, but the determinations and effects of the latter, and the
social dynamics of its reception and utilization, are not reducible to its
textual mode. Designed to fit into soldiers breast pockets, and vinyl-clad
as protection for use in the field, the portability of Quotations combines
with its redness, and this is its most striking and alluring feature. Its red
vinyl covers unify the book globally across its translations, perhaps with
something of a universal appeal, but in China they carried particular se-
miotic resonance. Already a prominent signifier of prosperity in Chinese
culture, red connoted a commitment to Chinese communism and was
elevated into a foundational sign of passional struggle during the Cultural
Revolution. One former Red Guard recalls,
At the time China was engulfed in a permanent red storm....Chairman

Mao was our red Commander-in-Chief. We called ourselves his little
red devils. We read and quoted his little red book. Wore his red buttons
on our chests. Red Flags. Red armbands. Red blood. Red hearts....We
could not tolerate anyone who was of a different color.64
In this fashion, the redness of Quotations could be experienced as a col-

lective flood of color. Describing Maos 1966 sunrise audiences with the
Red Guards in Tiananmen Square, one biographer writes, Waved in the
air, the red covers [of Quotations] made the square resemble a field ablaze
with butterflies.65 But the mass distribution of this compact objectwith
the rich sensory qualities that are germane to the tactile, portable medium
of the bookwas such that its compound of redness, struggle, and Mao
Zedong Thought could also be experienced at an intimate, personal level.
The endorsement leaf in Lin Biaos calligraphy contributed to a feeling of
intimacy with the book, a feeling no doubt entrenched by the emotional
disjunction associated with the subsequent defacement or removal of
this page by each owner, following Lin Biaos death and denunciation.66
The book could also take part in everyday ritual. At the start of the work
and school day, groups would line up in front of Maos portrait and wave
Quotations while giving the three respects and three wishes; the same
practices might also take place immediately on waking or before a meal.67
Rhythmic waving of the book also had a place in Maoist dance routines
known as loyalty dances, and according to Xing Lu, there was even a
correct manner of holding Quotations at such ceremonies: with the thumb
placed in front and fingers behind, the book would be held over the heart
to indicate loyalty and boundless love.68
Quotations played a particular role too in the monomania of the Red
Guards, the young passional agents of the Cultural Revolution, known
for their nomadic mass movement across the country in the exchange
of revolutionary experience and the violence that followed such injunc-
tions as Beat to a pulp any and all persons who go against Mao Zedong
Thought and Long live the red terror (to quote Red Guard wall post-
ers from two elite middle schools in Beijing).69 It is a suitable moment to
pause and underscore the role of reception or the reader in the social
production of Quotations. The Red Guards complete the Little Red Book,
but they also make it, for it only came to be itself because of the mass con-
sumption associated with the Cultural Revolution and the particular role
that it took therein. The Cultural Revolution shows too how complex is the
phenomenon of readership, for the productive consumption of this book
took many forms other than readingincluding, as I have suggested,
devotion, display, and ritualas much as the nature of reading here,
in the action-oriented semiotic within which it was manifest, was itself
highly varied. But what about variation in interpretation, the fundamental
feature of reader-focused theories of the production of text? There was

in fact considerable variation in readers interpretations of Quotations,
with different individuals, state functionaries, and Red Guard factions
seeking to mobilize meanings in different contexts and to different and
competing ends. And yet variation in the interpretation of particular texts
(aided by the ungrounded nature of the quotations, as I noted earlier) was
perfectly compatible with uniformity in the manifestation of their passional
structure, in the monomania of Mao Zedong Thought.
Monomania, this central property of the postsignifying regime, had a
specific articulation with the Red Guards mode of autonomy, an autonomy
that was intrinsic to the unleashed brutality of the Cultural Revolution,
following Maos call to boldly arouse the masses against the established
authorities.70 This is the somewhat paradoxical autonomy of the passional
mode of subjectivity, with its monomania and reductive echolalia, where
the more you obey...the more in command you are.71 As Lifton argues,
the autonomy of the Red Guards was characterized by a rare sense of
participating in a great moral crusade and of taking matters into their
own hands, but in a fashion constituted through a totalistic attack upon
any signs of the independent (non-Maoist) self.72 Betrayal, that constitu-
tive feature of the passional regime of signs, was endemic: the Chinese
revolution was understood to be suffering betrayal by internal capitalist
roadsters; revolution against this, the Maoist principle of cultural revolu-
tion, was formulated as a perpetual betrayal, as the Party and established
authorities were figured as that which must be ever challenged and over-
come; Red Guards were to betray themselves, splitting off any black or
counterrevolutionary qualities; and traitors and capitalist roadsters were
found in every corner of society, ever setting off passional subjectivities
on their next proceeding. My interest here is in the monomania set loose,
but, given the tremendous appeal the Cultural Revolution had among large
sectors of the Chinese population and, indeed, among Western radicals,
it is important to register first the particular delusion of this cause.
Though some trends in current philosophy after Badiou still claim oth-
erwise, the Cultural Revolution was not a highpoint of global revolutionary
endeavor but a power struggle resulting from a split in the governing class
of a demagogic state capitalist regime, as Mao, utilizing his preeminent
place in official ideology, sought to reassert his authority (and, ultimately,

his recourse to industrialization through superexploitation and terror)
following the disaster of the Great Leap Forward. Simon Leys (pen name
of Pierre Ryckmans) is most insightful here. An ardent Sinologist, he was,
along with the Situationist International (SI), one of the very rare voices
on the Left not to succumb to Mao and the ideological representation of
the Cultural Revolution.73 Leys puts it plainly: The Cultural Revolution
had nothing revolutionary about it except the name, and nothing cultural
about it except the initial tactical pretext.74 Indeed, he suggests that the
Red Guard phenomenon displayed some striking similarities with the
Fascist movement of the Blue Shirts in 1930s Koumintang China, the
two sharing the self-declared principles of unconditional allegiance to a
supreme leader; anti-intellectualism; fixation on manual labor as a tran-
scendent purpose; cultural conservatism, manifest as physical attacks
on perceived decadent Western styles and forms; and the singular value
of mass, popular violence.75 True, the Cultural Revolution claimed to be
a revolution against the capitalist corruption of the Party, a movement
for communism conceived of as perpetual revolution against establish-
ment stasis and the Four Olds (old customs, old culture, old habits,
old ideas), but this was merely Maos ruse to unseat his opponents in the
bureaucracy. And it served precisely this aim, a churn of the bureaucracy
rather than a challenge to the real conditions of hardship and exploita-
tion, class conditions that Mao, in his efforts toward rapid industrial
modernization, in fact sought to entrench and extend. Why, then, did it
attract such astonishing emotional investment and mass political support?
Leys speculates that it was precisely because the Chinese peasants and
workers had every reason to believe the rhetoric, to feel that they were
indeed barred from the promised classless society, that they seized the
proffered route to revolution so vigorously. He presents his thesis thus:
The class struggle as understood in the Maoist systemthat is, the

denunciation by the masses of guilty parties who have been singled out
for them by the powers that beis the regimes safety valve, its basic
hygiene, a periodic bloodletting that allows it to eliminate the toxins in
its organism. For the masses, this ritual exercise gives a very convinc-
ing appearance of reality. The violence and the blood that always flows
in these operations, the high positions and broad powers that had once
been the preserve of the bureaucrats now found guiltyall this seems
to show that a true revolution is occurring. In fact, the double cross is
perfect, for the essence of the bureaucratic system is the interchange-
ability of bureaucrats, and no mere change of personnel could alter the
nature of the regime.76
The point is aptly made also in Ren Vinets documentary dtournement,

Peking Duck Soup, from which I cite a passage that conveys the sudden
transformation of the social regime as despotic signification gave way to
passional monomania:
The Orwellian system built up over the years under which everyone had
to be aware at all times of the police, the army, the party, the union, not
to mention the factory bossesthe Red Guards transcend this system
in a matter of hours. What had been jokingly called the socialist ethic
disappears and is replaced by a new form of politics, which immediately
evokes the unbounded admiration of the Western world. The entire
population wakes up one morning to find itself subjected, without appeal,
to the murderous caprices of Maos children, who have not yet drunk
their Coca Cola. Of course, these kids have every reason to go on the
rampage against the bureaucrats, but from the start they are barking up
the wrong tree. Instead of doing a number on the bureaucracy, they do
one on the proletariat.77
Such, then, were the principles and realities of the Cultural Revolu-
tion. Its evaluative criterion was of course Mao Zedong Thought. Maos
Thought was the means of assaying practice and of stoking the flames of
passional flight, as was especially apparent in the technique of criticism
self-criticism (or strugglecriticismtransformation). Originally a for-
mal procedure for confessing and externalizing offending acts, and so
developing a redemptive integration of individuals with the Party, in the
Cultural Revolution, criticismself-criticism became entwined with the
Red Guards destructive monomania. In other words, it shifted from an
integrating, collegial relation to a postsignifying linear proceeding along
a principle of autocracy, as Lowell Dittmer puts it, where the indeter-
minacy of Maos Thought as a calculus of innocence or guilt meant that
criticism had no intrinsic limits:
Once someone came under attack, there was an inevitable dynamic to the
criticism process which propelled it towards his destruction. The target
was isolated, since any contact with him ran the risk of implication. His
self-criticisms were indignantly rejected, for to be resolute and merciless
was to be Left, whereas to accept self-criticism was to risk siding with
a condemned man. This inherent dynamic vitiated the intended function
of criticism as a sort of ordeal by fire for aberrant cadres, simply because
no target could possibly pass the test.78
What place did Quotations take in this passional monomania? Manifesting

the root-books function as location and guarantor of truth and authority,
the mass-distributed object of Quotations served to open a direct line of
affective integration between Mao and the population that was unmedi-
ated by the Partys interpretive authority.79 Moreover, the reject[ion]
of intermediaries or specialists, as Deleuze and Guattari characterize
the action-oriented modes of reception of the root-book, here enabled
a recoiling of Mao into the masses, the subject of enunciation into the
subject of the statement, a point visually displayed in Figure 6.80 Like
a portable packet of signs, Quotations thus provided the Red Guards
with a distributed and mobile set of points of passional subjectification
and enunciation unmoored from, and in betrayal of, established sources
of institutional power. If political power grows out of the barrel of a
gun, as Maos maxim has it, here the gun had a ready companion in
the book.81
The weaponization of words features heavily in Lin Biaos textual
packaging of Quotations and was taken up at the time in Harun Farockis
early short film, The Words of the Chairman (1967). Structured like a
commercial, as Farocki later musedor, we might say, like a slogan or
quotationa figure wearing a Mao-style hat tears out a page from Quota-
tions to the audio accompaniment of Lin Biaos preface.82 This is fashioned
into a dart and launched into a bowl of soup at the dinner table of two
characters wearing paper masks of the Shah of Iran and his wife, spattering
the Shah as if shot (Figure 7). A literal reading is encouraged by knowledge
that the film was made shortly after a critical moment in German militancy
when the police killed a student demonstrator protesting the Shahs visit
to West Berlin. (That the films cinematographer was Holger Meins, soon
Figure 7. Screen grabs from Harun Farockis The Words of the Chairman, 1967.
to be of the Red Army Faction, does not discourage this reading.) And yet
the blunt clarity of the message also serves to ironize a literal interpreta-
tion, as does the rather kitsch scene that opens and closes the film, the
close-up of a spinning Little Red Book accompanied by Chinese choral
music. This twofold quality of Farockis film partakes of the Orientalist
manner by which Maoist slogans and artifacts were adopted by European
radicals as they failed miserably to understand the Cultural Revolution,
while at the same time pushing that into parody. Yet this way of framing
Chinese Maoism is a very Euro-American story. In China itself, the rela-
tion between words and deeds was far from playful; the volitional power of
Quotations in popular violence (including violence directed against those
who defaced or accidentally damaged the book) was clear and apparent.
For how else are we to interpret the images of impassioned Red Guards
in the heat of upheaval, at mass rallies, in criticism sessions, at beatings,
waving aloft, of all things, these diminutive red vinyl books?
True, Mao did not hide his face in the direct sense that Deleuze
and Guattari mark as constitutive of the passional regime of signs
11 or 12 million Red Guards came to Beijing for the 1966 rallies with Mao,
and his image, as part of the official cult of personality, was famously
ubiquitous. But then his role as despot was never far off and was soon to
return in the restoration of order, once Maos position in the Party had
been reestablished (and the army was subsequently mobilized to stamp
out the movement that it had hitherto protected, curtailing the passional
flight of the Red Guardsand the workers and soldiers who had started
to strike and mutiny against the Maoist regime and the Red Guardsand
reasserting labor discipline). Until then, at these mass rallies, Mao rarely
spoke beyond a few words, for to do otherwise would have been to risk
the distributed authority of the passional forces set loose: The leader
who used to lecture for hours to persuade his followers of the merits of
a new policy now merely appeared before them with an upraised hand
and a glassy smile.83
The Rhizome-B ook
Moving from the root-book to the rhizome-book, Deleuze and Guattari

set out their counter figure by returning to the relation between the book
and the world. If, as we have seen, the root-book is in a relation of sepa-
ration and imitation with the worldThe law of the book is the law of
reflectionit is based on a misapprehension of nature: How could the
law of the book reside in nature, when it is what presides over the very
division between world and book, nature and art?84 It is a quite differ-
ent understanding of nature that informs the rhizome-book, a book not
characterized by a pristine truth in imitative separation from the world
but by an immersive transformation, an aparallel evolution of the book
and the world.85 In this sense, the book exists only through the outside
and on the outside.86 Using a related metaphor, the book here is a little
machine that plugs into its outside not to reproduce the world in the
books image but to construct a discontinuous series of intensive states
or plateaus, in relation to which it has no identity, it is always broken.87
The root-book does of course also exist through relations with its
outside (as we saw in the Cultural Revolution), but in the rhizome-book,
the outside is no longer framed by the books spiritual autonomy and
truth. Rather, the outside floods into the book, as a condition of becoming
between the two. Here the distinction between root and rhizome as-
sists in articulating a certain mode of being qua difference. The root is an
arborescent image of thought, as the tree and its root evoke a binary logic
of identity and difference, the latter merely a derivation of the former in
a series of bifurcations from a primordial unity, whereby One becomes
two (or one divides into two, as in the Maoist schema that Deleuze
and Guattari reference in this context). The rhizome, by contrast, models
the world of grasses and tubers, which have no trunk or unity but grow
opportunistically at any point and in any direction. In a rhizome, then, it is
not that the one divides into two but that the One is always subtracted.88
A rhizome is an acentered and nonhierarchical system that has neither

beginning nor end, but always a middle (milieu) from which it grows and
which it overspills.89
In enumerating the qualities of the rhizome, Deleuze and Guattari
display a profound feeling for the many materialities of organic and inor-
ganic life, and this is foregrounded in their characterization of its book,
whereby the rhizome-book is understood to be a complex and variable
arrangement of heterogeneous materials: A book has neither object nor
subject; it is made of variously formed matters, and very different dates
and speeds.90 Yet despite these materialist conceptual framings, Deleuze
and Guattari offer little significant insight on bookish materials, on how
the specificities of textual matter might be expressed in the mode of the
rhizome-book. This is understandable, given the radically open process
that the concept seeks to name, for the lack of concrete specificity func-
tions to affirm the proliferation of specificities, unencumbered by the
attractor of a delineated model. And we should register too that a rhizome-
book is defined as much by its endogenous characteristics, its mutable
encounters, as by any conceptual, formal, or physical features that might
inhere within it. However, this lack of attention to the specific materiali-
ties of books also has the unfortunate effect of allowing the rhizome-book
to appear by default as a rather abstract or metaphorical entity and not
something with concrete manifestation in the realms of textual matter.
This description of the rhizome-book is indicative: The ideal for a book
would be to lay everything out on a plane of exteriority..., on a single
page, the same sheet: lived events, historical determinations, concepts,
individuals, groups, social formations.91 For all the powerful evocation
here of the immanence of the book to its outside (the plane of exterior-
ity), as material form, it features only as a metaphorical single page.
Skeptical readers might at this point respond that the rhizome-book
is fundamentally a figure of philosophical production, that it aims to push
philosophy from a reflective relation of reciprocal identity with the world
to an immanent relation of variation, that this is where its materiality lies,
not in any serious or sustained relation to the concrete forms of writing and
publishing. The preceding identification of the page with, for example,
lived events would seem to indicate as much, and the thesis can also
find some support in Deleuze and Guattaris typology, in their concept

of the fascicular root-book. Designating the botched escape from the
root-book, the concept is designed to scupper modernist experiments
in textual and typographic form. Evoking fibrous or adventitious root
systems, clusters of fine radicles without a central taproot, the fascicular
root-book has severed its principal root or unity such that it opens out
to the world, where the world is now understood to be fragmented and
chaotic. But the book remains, in root-book mode, as a totalizing image
of the (now chaotic) world. Imitative complementarity persists between
world and book, object and subject, matter and spirit, as the book com-
pensates for chaos with a secret or supplementary unity of the work amid
its fragmentary form:
The abortionists of unity are indeed angel makers, doctors angelici, because
they affirm a properly angelic and superior unity....Unity is consistently
thwarted and obstructed in the object, while a new type of unity triumphs
in the subject....The world has become chaos, but the book remains the
image of the world....A strange mystification: a book all the more total
for being fragmented.92
As I indicated earlier, Joyces decentered narratives and Mallarms book

qua spiritual instrument are Deleuze and Guattaris main targets, but
they also bring William Borroughss cut-up method to illustrate this
fascicular figure of the book, and Nietzsche, whose aphorisms shat-
ter the linear unity of knowledge, only to invoke the cyclic unity of the
eternal return.93 Here the critique of formal experimentation is made in
no uncertain terms:
To attain the multiple, one must have a method that effectively constructs
it; no typographical cleverness, no lexical agility, no blending or creation
of words, no syntactical boldness, can substitute for it. In fact, these are
more often than not merely mimetic procedures used to disseminate or
disperse a unity that is retained in a different dimension for an image-
book. Technonarcissism.94
And yet Deleuze and Guattari are not wholly hostile, for the passage
continues:
Typographical, lexical, or syntactic creations are necessary only when they

no longer belong to the form of expression of a hidden unity, becoming
themselves dimensions of the multiplicity under consideration; we only
know of rare successes in this. We ourselves were unable to do it. We just
used words that in turn function for us as plateaus.95
These quotations amply display Deleuze and Guattaris own tastes in

methodWe just used wordsbut there is no a priori rejection here of
intervention in the books material form. Neither should we expect there
to be. If an assemblage, in its multiplicity, necessarily acts on semiotic
flows, material flows, and social flows simultaneously, then it would be
wholly inconsistent to confine the assemblage of the book only to the
former.96 And so, succumbing to their own argument, A Thousand Plateaus
does in fact make some brief positive comment on concrete experiments
in book form. In developing the concept of the rhizome-book, Deleuze
and Guattari give some prominence to three modern works on the early-
thirteenth-century Childrens Crusades, works that generate a nomadic
expression in the flow of narratives, movements, and peoples. While these
books are still said to be subject to the unity of the fascicular root-book,
here there is nonetheless definite appreciation of formal innovation. In
Armand Farrachis La Dislocation, for instance, Deleuze and Guattari note
enthusiastically that the sentences space themselves out and disperse,
or else jostle together and coexist, and...the letters, the typography
begin to dance as the crusade grows more delirious.97 And there is one
example of a rare success that stands unchallenged: Absolument nces-
saire. The Emergency Book by Jolle de La Casinire, which is credited in
a footnote as a truly nomadic book.98 Deleuze and Guattari make no
further comment, but it is a bookwork of graphic poetry, travelogue, and
montage, expressive of the itinerant lifestyle and art-practice of its author.
As Casinire reports, Deleuze arranged for the publication of this book
after she sent him a photocopy of the manuscript, though once it was
published, he remarked, revealing a taste for the formal qualities of works
without unity, that he preferred the pale and poorly made photocopy
to the finished book.99
The task, then, is to consider the dynamics of the rhizome-book in
a way that is attentive not only to the conceptual and textual features
of books but to their full materiality, their heterogeneous working of

matters.100 I attempt this here through concrete cases, for it would run
counter to the spirit of this most immanent of concepts to either set
out universal criteria for the rhizome-book or consider it outside of its
empirical expressions. In what follows, each set of books is initially ap-
proached, as was Maos Quotations, through its linguistic structure and/or
conceptual content. But against the spiritual autonomy of the word in the
root-book, here the word is shown to be enmeshed with, and unsettled by,
diverse materials and oriented toward expression that is not constrained
by the semiotics of passional authority. I place attention on the singular
ways the particular books break with the root-book modebreak, that
is, with its encyclopedic pretensions to totalizing knowledge, its imita-
tive relation to the world, its authorial authority, and its sufficiency as an
integrated whole. In the course of discussion, I touch on some features
of the root-book that I have not thus far considered: its relation to the
sensory patterns of the State-form and to the structures of the capitalist
commodity. The focus throughout is on how the qualities of the rhizome-
book are manifest in the artifact of the book itself, in the context of the
aesthetic and political concerns of each books immediate environment.
Since Deleuze and Guattari provide only minimal tools for analysis of the
concrete materiality of books, I sometimes draw on concepts that they
use to explore material culture in other fields. And to make one more
preparatory point, I would underscore that the books are presented here
not as a cumulative account of the emergence of the rhizome-book but
as a variable field of its expression, each book foregrounding one or more
aspects of the rhizomatic tendency in the material form of books.
Polysensuality and the Russian Futurist Book
Given the cleavage the root-book enacts with the external world, it is
appropriate to start with a set of books within which the physical and
sensory properties of matter take center stage: the Russian Futurist books
of the 1910s. In their foundational practice of the self-sufficient word
and transreason (zaum), the Russian Futurists (or Cubo-Futurists, as
they are sometimes known) took the word not as a transparent vehicle of
truth and communication but as polymorphous object, placing emphasis

on the phonic, graphic, hieroglyphic qualities of writing.101 Here the word
as object is unmoored from chains of signification, in relation to which
it has only passing and occasional correspondence. Instead, phonetic
analogy, rhythm, raw verbal material, and obscure idioms become the
substance and organizing principles of expression, as the word passes
into sensation, in Deleuze and Guattaris terms.102 I made much of the
passional dimension of the root-book, but books of the rhizome variety
are not without their own kind of passion. In the transrational word, as
Aleksei Kruchenykh has it, one of the main exponents of zaum, this not
yet frozen or melted language is fundamentally emotional in tenor,
associated with intensive states: when the artist wants to convey images
not fully defined, when one loses ones reason (hate, jealousy, rage...),
when one does not need itreligious ecstasy, love.103
Hence, while Maos Quotations abstracted the word from the world
in the purity of Mao Zedong Thought, in Futurist transreason, the word
is drawn back into its many and various material fields. In this one can
discern elements of Deleuze and Guattaris presignifying regime of
signs, a regime that fosters a pluralism or polyvocality of forms of ex-
pression that prevents takeover by the signifier and preserves expressive
forms particular to content.104 But the important point for my purposes
is that this Futurist approach to language is interlaced with the form and
physicality of the books themselves.
Russian Futurist books were conceived of as active, polysensual objects
in a fashion that undoes the root-book cleavage between world and book,
as the book becomes a vital entity adequate to the intensive movements
of the transrational word. This manifests in a number of ways. It is most
immediately apparent in the exuberance of materials that are deployed
in Futurist books. Developing from an interest in folk culture, ritual-
related art, ideographic text, illuminated manuscripts, and the ornate
objects of nomadic peoples, Futurist books have a wild tactility about
them. In deliberate contravention of the fine-printing tradition of the
livre dartistes, they are often roughly hewn works assembled of cheap,
disposable materialsan early example, A Slap in the Face of Public Taste,
was famously bound in burlapand diverse print technologies, including
lithographed manuscript, handwriting, linocuts, hectography, and rub-

ber stamps. They were not to be read as such but, in all their variability,
existed to see, listen to, and feel.105
To this polymorphous array of materials there corresponds a specific
aesthetic form, one that is manifest against the principal sensory struc-
tures of the root-book. The modern book, as it has developed from the
Gutenberg letterpress, intensifies the abstracted optical function at the
expense of sensuous complexity. The rigid linear text, uniformity of let-
terforms, and identical copies produce, in Marshall McLuhans words,
a visual technology of uniform time and uniform continuous space in
which cause is efficient and sequential, and things move and happen on
single planes.106 We might infer from this one reason why Deleuze and
Guattari also name the root-book the State apparatus-book.107 It not
only produces patterns of dogma and authority, as we have seen in Quota-
tions, but also imparts a State-form sensorium. The Gutenberg book is a
microcosm, if you will, of the State function to bind movement to ground
and regulate it as suchthe gravity of the State-form, its production
of striated space.108 Granted, this case can be overstated. The poetical
and philosophical complexity and multivalence of text is not prevented
by the linearity of its printed instantiation, and the spatial and temporal
dimensions of the codex, in contrast to the scroll, make it a random-access
device from the start, suitable for nonlinear, discontinuous reading, as
Johanna Drucker and Peter Stallybrass have argued.109 Still, the Russian
Futurists understood the Gutenberg book as presenting much stratifica-
tion to react against.
In contrast to the optical aesthetic, Futurist books have a strong
relation to the haptic aesthetic Deleuze and Guattari associate with
nomadic art (it is not incidental that a number of the Russian Futurists
were heavily influenced by the art forms of the Scythian nomads).110 I
have noted that these books are most tactile, sensual entities, but the
haptic is a mode of vision, an immersive close vision that invests the
eye with the property of touch, as it draws vision into a field that dissolves
perspective and is grasped only through a local and variable integration
of parts, where orientations, landmarks, and linkages are in continuous
variation.111 In Futurist books, the interweaving and merging of image
and text, the use of handwriting, transrational flight of sense, graphic

wandering of words, unbounded color, variability of printed materials,
and fluctuation in rhythm all pull away from the striated, optical mode
of the book and attract an immersive perception, one that allows for an
experience of sensory simultaneity in what we might, after Deleuze and
Guattari, call ornamental text, with weak communication value.112
Gerald Janecek thus writes of Kruchenykhs work: a page of text need
not be read sequentially in linear time, but can be taken at a glance and
absorbed by the same process of free visual exploration used in studying a
painting.113 It is a disorienting sensory experience of which Kruchenykh
was well aware: We can change objects weight (the eternal force of grav-
ity), we see buildings hanging in the air and the weight of sounds.114
As can be discerned in Kruchenykhs comment here, the haptic aes-
thetic combines with a quality of movement. For Deleuze and Guattari,
the haptic aesthetic comprises a particular kind of graphic inscription
or line, an inorganic line that breaks with the organic mode of
representation. Whereas organic representation, through the principle of
symmetry, limits variability in repetition by maintaining the domination
of a central point with radiating lines (as in star-shaped figures), haptic
aesthetic forms express a power of variation, a streaming, spiralling,
zigzagging, snaking, feverish line.115 Such art no longer constructs an
organic empathy between representation and human subject but articulates
a different mode of lifethe traits, flows, impulses of an elementary life of
matter, an inorganic life.116 It is an aesthetic form found especially in the
animal motifs of nomadic art: the twisted animals have no land beneath
them; the ground constantly changes direction, as in aerial acrobatics;
the paws point in the opposite direction from the head, the hind part of
the body is turned upside down; the monadological points of view can
be interlinked only on a nomad space.117
It is no surprise that these motifs find their way into Futurist books,
sometimes in simple iconographic fashion, other times in sophisticated
adaptations of central Scythian principles.118 But we might more produc-
tively approach the haptic movement of Futurist books through another
aspect of nomadic aesthetics, its artifactual form. Deleuze and Guattari
argue that the nomadic, inorganic line is associated with certain kinds of
mobile objectsjewelry and weaponry. These objects do not work in

and for striated space, as do tools, component parts of a labor process
legally and economically bound to property, but express variable move-
ment undetermined by the striating gravity of the State-form.119 If
Futurist books construct a haptic aesthetic, as objects they share also this
nomadic quality of movement. For the itinerant property of the medium
of the bookthis most deterritorialized of thingsis no longer articu-
lated with distributed authority (as it was in Maos Quotations) or with
the striated perceptual patterns of the State-form (as is imparted by the
Gutenberg book). Rather, like paper jewelry, these living entit[ies] that
defy gravity and fly out on publication serve to distribute a feverish,
inorganic life of matter.120
The Futurist book also raises a challenge to the root-books linear or
teleological relation to the world. As Nina Gurianova argues, the tem-
poral, spatial, and rhythmic dislocations of these books are such that, to
employ the name of one of the most accomplished Futurist works, this
is a world backwards.121 But there is still perhaps a danger of the book
operating here (in the mode of the fascicular root-book) as an archetype,
of typographical cleverness propagating a supplementary unity in the
fragmented work. It is important, then, that the undoing of the books
teleological relationship to the world is compounded by another aspect
of the Russian Futurist book, the persistent troubling of its own unity, as
is especially evident in Kruchenykhs work.
Kruchenykh had something of a compulsive passion for publishing
and was chiefly responsible for upward of two hundred publications.122
But it is a passion operative against any principle that would orchestrate
a unity or model in the work; true poets, he proclaimed, should write
on their books: after reading, tear it up.123 This destructive tendency
took the somewhat inorganic aesthetic form of an insistence on the
necessity and the importance of irregularity in art.124 For instance, Mir-
skontsa (Worldbackwards)a book of poetry by Kruchenykh and Velimir
Khlebnikov, and images by Natalia Goncharova, Mikhail Larionov, Nikolai
Rogovin, and Vladimir Tatlinis a highly heterogeneous collection of
materials and rhythms. But it is also internally irregular: the order of pages
differs between copies; individual lithographed pages vary in the color and
weight of paper; rubber-stamped sheets have inconsistent use of letters

and decorative symbols; even the covers of the book (by Goncharova, in
what is the first example of collage in book design) vary between copies.125
Kruchenykh was also in the habit of assembling materials across different
books: reproducing manifestos and texts in different works; using pages
from one book in another; even, in one case, publishing a new book,
Zaumnik, from an older work, Iz vsekh knig (From all books), simply by
adding a newly designed cover (albeit one by Aleksandr Rodchenko).126 In
these peculiar practices, the book becomes an interminable shuffling of
fragments, a looping movement as pages are assembled and reassembled
like the discontinuous folds of the most rhizomatic of organs: These
books...smell of phosphorous, like fresh brain curls.127
Antonin Artauds Paper Spells
In formulating the figure of the rhizome-book, Deleuze and Guattari

make use of a concept they draw from Antonin Artaud, the body without
organs, a concept that is well known to have considerable significance
in their philosophical repertoire. If the root-book is one tendency in the
field of the book, the book also has a side facing the body without organs,
which is constantly dismantling the organism, causing asignifying particles
or pure intensities to pass or circulate.128 That is, as a body without or-
gans, the rhizome-book undoes the sensory and signifying organization
of its subject. The haptic materialism of the Futurist book moved in this
directionbreaking as it did with the sensory patterns of the striated
optical functionbut it is in Artauds paper spells or gris-gris that we
find the most singular concrete experiment in textual matter qua body
without organs.129 Artaud sent these epistolary objects from Ireland and
the Sainte-Anne Hospital and Ville-vrard asylum in France in 1937 and
1939 as protective or imprecatory devices to friends, doctors, and public
figuresseven are known to exist, including one that remained unsent
to Hitler.130 Composed of writing, pictograms, and obscure symbols in
ink and colored crayon, included with letters or sent alone, these spells
are hacked, scored, and burned objects that defy any attempt to separate
artifact and text, material form and signifying content (Plates 5 and 6).
As with Futurist books, Artauds spells are entwined with a par-

ticular mode or experience of language, one that Deleuze elucidates
in his comparative assessment of surface and depth in the linguistic
operations of Lewis Carroll and Artaud. I do not like poems or languages
of the surface which smell of happy leisures and of intellectual success,
Artaud writes of Carroll.131 Against Carrolls incorporeal linguistic sur-
faces, language for Artaud is carved into the body. Yet there is no simple
opposition here between surface and depth; the point, instead, is that
surface and depth become immanent to each other. It is an experience
symptomatic of schizophrenia, where the body is an involution of the
world arounda body-sieve, as Deleuze describes it, a membrane of
infinite crevices, for Artaud.132 Things and propositions have no longer
any frontier between them, precisely because bodies have no surface....
Every word is physical and immediately affects the body.133 It is here, in
the schizophrenic breakdown of the division between things and words,
that Deleuze and Guattaris claim for the indistinction between what a
book is and what it says, a book as thing and a book as words, can be taken
as a statement of fact, and not as a confounding means of forcing one to
think the interplay between divergent textual and sociomaterial means of
expression (as I framed it in the preface). But at this moment, one must
guard against allowing the loss of distinction between words and things
to become the ascendance of words at the expense of things. That Deleuze
and Guattari make no comment on the specific materialities of Artauds
spells might indicate a failing on that front, though it is quite possible that
they knew little of the material form of these works, which only came to
public attention in the mid-1980s. But I am getting ahead of myself, for
there is a little more to say about Artauds linguistic practice before we
move to its medial inscription.
The experience of Artauds corporeal semiotic is of language as wound-
ing assault: One may invent ones language, and make pure language speak
with an extra-grammatical or a-grammatical meaning, Artaud remarks
on Carroll, but this meaning must have value in itself, that is, it must
issue from torment.134 And it is to counter such wounding torment that
Artaud develops his specific procedures, as Deleuze elucidates. In brief,
Artaud isolates words, stripping them of their signifying function, whence
they are released as phonetic elements that are singularly wounding, un-
bearable sonorous qualities that affect the sensory organs of the body.
Phonetic values are then in turn undone, converted into breath-words
and howl-words, overloaded with consonants, aspiration, and guttural
sounds, as anyone who has heard recordings of Artauds performances
will not readily forget. Here all literal, syllabic, and phonetic values have
been replaced by values which are exclusively tonic, values that correspond
not to a subject of signification but to a disaggregated body, a body without
organs, an organism without parts which operates entirely by insufflation,
respiration, evaporation, and fluid transmission.135
Now, the point for my purposes is that Artauds spells can be under-
stood as artifactual manifestations of this relation between language and
body. To borrow from Stephen Barbers assessment of Artauds notebooks,
the spells are a prototype, a testing-ground for the transformational
process of the body without organs. Artaud writes: I have the idea to put
into operation a new re-assembling of the activity of the human world,
idea of a new anatomy./My drawings are anatomies in action.136 This
operation is at once destructive of the existent corporeal and signifying
body and a generative practicea procedure both terminal and insur-
gent.137 And it takes paper not as a mediating substrate but as a material
immanent to its procedures; in these spells, Artaud constructs a paper
body without organs. Let us see how.
Writing in 1947, Artaud conceived of his spells as exorcisms performed
on the objective inertia of the page, on its striating, organizing gradients:
The goal of all these drawn and coloured figures was to exorcise the curse,
to vituperate bodily against the exigencies of spatial form, of perspective,
of measure, of equilibrium, of dimension.138 No inert support for the
written word, then, the sheet of paper is fully a part of the procedure.139
Like a body-sieve, the gris-gris emerges as a dynamic membrane, a field
of forces: sign, color, word, lettering, combine with the material of the
paper, perforated and frayed with burns, to produce a surface that is as
much active as acted upon, as Agns de la Beaumelle describes it.140 And
it is, too, a corporeal surface, an extension of Artauds tormented body in
process. Artaud performed incantation in the spells construction, taken
over by convulsive movement as he stabbed, incised, perforated, and
burned the pagehe worked in a rage, as an intern at Rodez recalled,

regarding the grinding out of one of Artauds self-portraits.141 In this
way, signs were captured and held with the violent force of bodily gesture,
so preventing signifying circulation, depriving the word of its power to
draw together or to express an...ideational event distinct from its pres-
ent realization.142
The subject undone on the body-sieve of the paper was not only its
author, if we can use that inadequate word for this visceral and medial
procedure, but its audience too. Beaumelle describes the spells as graphic
expulsions, artifacts intended to act physically on their interlocutors, to
have an immediate and destabilizing sensory effect.143 It is an effect well
explained by Paule Thvenin:
Writing no longer has as its sole function that of transmitting a message

or a thought; rather, it must act by itself and physically. Everything is
studied, calculated so as to strike the eye, and through it the sensitivity,
of the person for whom the spell is destined....We can scarcely look at
these objects without being contaminated by their vehemence.144
A trace of this vehement contamination can perhaps be gained from

Beaumelles evocative presentation of the 1939 spells from Artauds time
at the Ville-vrard asylum:
Their imprecatory violence now resides more in the physical state of the
missive than in the words. Inscribed with a thick ink crayon in purple, the
different signs (crosses, stars, triangles, spirals in the shape of serpents, the
cabalistic significance of which Artaud knew well) proliferate in all direc-
tions, invade the center of the paper itself, break the continuous thread of
writing drawn with the same ink crayon: fragments of writing and drawn
pictograms henceforth form one body. Not only that: knots, amorphous
clusters of crayon, seem to respond in counterpoint, proceeding from the
same charge of aggression, to the holes produced by burning the paper (the
edges of which are also ravaged); and traces of violent shades of yellow,
blue, and red (Artaud also knew the symbolism of colors: these are the
colors of death) intensify by their physical presence the imprecatory force
of the words. These are no longer simple votive letters but true magical
objects, to be handled while making ritualistic gestures..., which can
illuminate themselves, like gris-gris.145
The medium of the letter served Artauds graphic expulsions well, for
the intimate affect germane to this direct and personal mode of textual
communication is compounded by the letters frail and ephemeral form.
If the Futurist book introduced the worldbackwards into the teleological
dimension of the books unity and authority, Artauds spells also refuse
existence as coherent and enduring works: These are not drawings/they
figure nothing,/disfigure nothing,/are not there to/construct/edi-
fy/establish/a world.146 The spells are fragments, their audiencethe
addressees of these artifacts delivered by postlimited and temporary,
and they exist, in their asubjective affects, only at the edge of destruc-
tion: And the figures that I thereby made were spellswhich, after so
meticulously having drawn them, I put a match to.147
Sandpaper Mmoires
The last example I will consider emerges from an expressly communist

environment, and as such it allows me to consider the material proper-
ties of the rhizome-book through a more overtly political lens. There
is considerable justification for Guy Debords claim that his and Asger
Jorns 1959 work, Mmoires, was an anti-book.148 The textual genre of
the memoir typically serves to marshal the identity and historical signifi-
cance of a public persona, of which General de Gaulles war memoir was
a contemporaneous example, as Karen Kurczynski notes (and as Debord
subversively acknowledges by including a snippet from that work in his
own).149 Its adoption by a young avant-gardist was a provocation, clearly,
and one that left little of the genre intact, though Debords anti-book was
constructed through many other planes of material text.
Mmoires is at once a fragmentary recollection of Debords pre-
Situationist milieu around the Lettrist International; an exercise in the
techniques of dtournement and drive; and an unworking of its own
points of identification, meaning, and narrative coherence. Its pages are
filled with scattered text and image fragments usurped and uncredited
from disparate medias and sources. Architectural diagrams; map frag-
ments; lines from Shakespeare, Baudelaire, Robert Louis Stevenson, and
other literary and popular sources; fragments from Marxit opens with
Marxs antimemorial statement let the dead bury the deadcartoons,

advertisements, scientific treatises, and so forth, all distributed without
hierarchy to construct an impressionistic sense of events, atmospheres,
ideas, and encounters (Plates 7 and 8).150 Interlaced with these are the
supporting structures of lines, splashes, and planes of vibrant color
provided by Debords artist comrade, Jorn. Confirming the anti-book
valence of these arrangements, the plain wrappers of Mmoires were
covered with heavy-grade sandpaper. On one hand, this might exemplify
the more self-regarding dimensions of Debord and the SI, typical in this
respect of the historical avant-garde; the sandpaper seems to signal a
triumphant and self-certain book arrived to damage those against which
it was placed. I touch on the limits of the SI later, but I seek here to con-
centrate on the aspects of Mmoires that pushed beyond them. On the
other hand, then, the striking effect of the sandpaper covers is the way
that when handled they foreground in a heightened sensory fashion the
books physical form and external relations, an enforced appreciation of
the books outside that is complemented by the almost translucent, rather
fragile pages encountered within. This interpretation finds some support
in the account of the books production. The material was actually pro-
posed by the books Danish printer Verner Permild, of the firm Permild
and Rosengreen, who also printed Jorn and Debords earlier bookwork,
Fin de Copenhague.151 He was responding to Jorns request for a binding
that would excite the sensessticky asphalt, Jorn suggested, that should
be slightly uncomfortable to the touch but durable.152
The critical impact of Mmoires on the material field of the book
includes two aspects that I have not directly considered in the rhizome-
books discussed thus far: a critique of capital and the commodity and a
specifically communist intervention in the problem of the root-books
subject. I draw these out through aspects of the books content, but there
is now a reasonable volume of research on the content of Mmoires, excus-
ing me to concentrate on paratextual aspects and the sociomaterial forms
and relations with which the book was interlaced.153
As with Artauds spells and the Russian Futurist books, Mmoires
breaks with the prevailing mode of communication, but it does this from
a position specifically attentive to the function of language in capitalist
society. As Frances Stracey notes in her discussion of Mmoires, language

for the SI was bound up with an emergent cybernetic mode of production
that integrated signification with command in an informationist para-
digm that sought to eradicate all linguistic redundancies and ambiguous
signals.154 This was a universal language of which, since its advent, the
triumphant bourgeoisie has dreamed.155 More succinctly, words work.156
There is a striking relation here with Deleuzes critique of the place of uni-
versals of communication in contemporary control society, with its dis-
tributed and continuous systems of regulation, as I touched on in chapter 1:
speech and communication have been corrupted. Theyre thoroughly
permeated by moneyand not by accident but by their very nature.157
For Deleuze, politics cannot resist this situation with an alternative
communicationa counterinformation or a democratic conversation
because what is required is a breach in the very modes of subjectivity and
exchange constituted in communicational systems.158 Deleuzes elusive
term for such practice is noncommunication, one that also appears in
Debords 1961 film Critique of Separation.159 Unlike Deleuze, the SI at times
held to the future possibility of a liberated communication fully present
to itself; in the same year that Mmoires was fabricated, the SI journal,
for instance, declared that all forms of pseudo-communication must
be consigned to utter destruction, so that one day we may achieve real,
direct communication.160 It is a piece with the other figures of presence
that mark the limits of the SIs communism, most notably its notion of
radical subjectivity (to be liberated and whole again after shucking off
the chains of passivity) and the workers council (the SIs totem of a future
communist form of self-directed labor, the collective management rather
than abolition of work). If the SI were only this, there would be little use
in returning to it today. But it contains a good deal that pushes against
these limits, not least with its politics of noncommunication.
The Situationists found their breach in the informationist paradigm
through the method of dtournement. As in the plundered visual and tex-
tual sources of Mmoires, dtournement is the reuse of existing semiotic
and aesthetic materials in new ensembles that seeks, in Jorns words, a
devaluation of received patterns of meaning.161 The association with
the category of political economy, value, is not accidental, for this was
a devaluation of language to match that of social production more widely:

words will not cease to work until people do.162 In a dtournement, the
new ensemble derives its peculiar power from holding together trace
associations of the devalued elements with the new senses created.163 In
Debord and Gil Wolmans words, its effects are dependen[t] on memory,
because the main impact of a dtournement is directly related to the conscious
or semiconscious recollection of the original contexts of the elements.164 Why is
this? As information cleanses the communicative channel of redundancies,
it performs an individuation of speaker and auditor, consolidating their
identities with each repetition, the memory of the auditor-subject serving
to condense the repetitions into a coherent center, a subject immobilized
in the falsified center of the movement of its world.165 Dtournement
introduces redundancy and ambiguity into the communicative channel,
making meanings proliferate and scatter. But its effectivity lies in the
degree to which this proliferation dislodges the integrating or subject-
producing capacity of memory, as familiar and identity-confirming bits of
information now appear strange and disarticulated, no longer providing
their consolidating effect. If dtournement is, hence, the first step toward
a literary communism, it is so in its persistent wrenching of language
from the paradigm of information and its subjective functions. It is not
the nadir of writing but its inversion.166
The destructive orientation to language in dtournement necessarily
troubles the textual medium favored by the historical avant-garde. It
can establish no unique and unified work in the manner of some total-
izing, Mallarman Book, as Tom McDonough observes.167 The works
of dtournement are of a different order, and Mmoires is one of these,
entirely composed of prefabricated elements, as the title page notes.168
Its composition of usurped and devalued words and images undercuts the
possibility of a distinct and self-expressive authorial subject, a move all
the more powerful for its apparent location in the autobiographical genre
of memoir. The referential object of the book, Debords Lettrist milieu,
is similarly undone as a coherent world or political subject, something
itemized and foreclosed in linear historical memory. Structured around
three dated chapters that indicate significant points in the life of Debord
and the Lettrist Internationalso establishing the book as a prehistory
of the SI, which was founded two months before he commenced work on
the bookmoments of this memory come into focus at points. But it is
an unstable and virtual historical field, at once charged with potential
comprising, as the first page warns, lights, shadows, shapes, fringes
of silence, full of discord and dismayand lost, irrecoverable, and
resistant as such.169
The technique of devaluation operates here not only in the redeploy-
ment of existing semiotic materials but also in their singular instantiation
on the pages of the book. As the SI journal later noted of Mmoires, the
writing on each page runs in all directions and the reciprocal relations
of the phrases are invariably uncompleted.170 Such indeterminacy is
compounded by the cumulative effect of the book, with concepts and
meanings coming in and out of focus as they resonate, accumulate, and
dissipate across its pages. And this is not only an effect of language but is
accentuated by the dramatic pattern and spatialization of the work, as text
and image are structured, counterposed, and overcome by Jorns variously
lulling, violent, humorous, and vertiginous sheets, pools, and scratch-
ings of vibrant color, what amounts to a grammar of abstract form, as
Kurczynski describes it, deliberate sensory provocations that insist on
active reading from the viewer.171 Jorns technique is in part an instance
of his experiments toward an immanent, topological mode of aesthetic
expression, what in a later text he describes by marking a distinction with
the Euclidean geometry of Wassily Kandinskys paint dripping from a
distance: If you work very close to the manuscript, the flow of colours
makes surfaces, blotches; it is the painterly articulation of a poly
dimensional cosmos at the surface.172 As such, Jorn considered Mmoires,
and the potentials it pushed in lithographic book production, to recall the
medieval manuscript, but now in a new, post-Gutenberg form.173 And
yet if Mmoires was to be such, it was not as an expression of the creative
labors of the heroic artist. As Kurczynski argues, Jorns drips and pools of
printed color, mechanically reproduced in glaring commercial gradients,
are something of a pastiche of the abstract painting of Jackson Pollock,
of the authenticity and rugged individuality that the American culture
industry exported as his politically expedient global image.174 This is the
context within which to understand Jorns remark to the publisher that the
production of Mmoirescomprising, remember, entirely prefabricated

elementswas to be a work of total industrialization, that should be
finished without us having anything to do with it.175
It should be underscored, and it is an astonishing achievement, that
in the midst of these intensive, disorienting characteristics, Mmoires
maintains a conceptual rigor and force. Indeed, this rigor is inherent to
the books disorienting qualities, for it is found not in the conventional
form of philosophical demonstration but in the practical performance of
its concepts (which is not, as we will see shortly, to say that it sought or
achieved the identity of theory and practice).176 Such performance is not
limited to dtournement; the book also invites its readers to engage with
it in the Situationist manner of a drive. Against the spectacular time
of capital, the empty succession of equivalent units of time, which, as
I argued earlier, the medium of the book models in its linear structure,
in Mmoires, time is loosened from determination, opened to chance,
nonlinearity, and irreversibility, as the reader drifts through its fragments
and spatiotextual arrangements, making it anew with each encounter, as
one might drift through a city, the more usual domain of the Situation-
ist practice of the drive.177 In fact, the form here exceeds the content,
extending a practice and a sensibility of dtournement and drive that can
work against the limits of their textual articulations in this book, which
at one point carries an inexcusable misogyny, an index of the failure of
the SI to adequately develop a communist critique of the sexism of itself
and its times.178 One of the trace associations that Mmoires holds in its
dtournement is the popular fascination with the nineteenth-century killer
of women, Jack the Ripper, the enduring nature of which is a persistent
indictment of the sexism that inheres in the modern imaginary of the city.
Granted, a dtournement appropriates to unsettle and destroy, but Debord
here merely adopts the misogynistic ambience that is constructed and
consumed in the Ripper myth. For as Patrick Greaney has shown, Debord
draws a simile between the Rippers evisceration and arrangement of the
organs of his murdered victims and the cutting and montage that comprise
a dtournement, while allowing the Ripper, that other night prowler, to
stand metonymically for himself as practitioner of the drive.179
We follow a more critical path when considering the effect of M-
moires on the structure of the commodity, a pivotal aspect of its anti-book
character. The commodity form of the book is a feature strangely absent

from Deleuze and Guattaris assessment, as if on this matter they suc-
cumbed to the obfuscating power of the root-book. The book is a form of
commodity that is especially effective at hiding its commercial nature, its
capitalist structure obscured by its apparently universal value as a tran-
scendent intellectual, moral, and aesthetic good.180 It is as if the generic
capitalist power of commodity fetishismto produce an autonomous
artifact severed in consumers minds from its relations of productionis
given a boost by the spiritual power of the root-book, these dual powers
of dematerialization conjoining in something of a perfect commodity.181
For despite appearances, these industrial goods which pretend not to be
goods at all have been entwined with the emergence and development
of the commodity form.182 As we saw in chapter 1, not only was printing
instrumental in the division of intellectual and manual labor that lies
at the heart of capitalist abstract labor, but the book was itself the first
standardized and reiterable mechanically produced mass commodity, the
book industry being a prime mover in the division of labor, the hourly
wage, new technologies, consumer credit, and privatization of language
through copyrightand it remains today fully enmeshed in the latest
industrial and technological developments.183
In this realm of the commodity, or at least of monetary exchange,
Mmoires has unsurprisingly become something of a rare item, changing
hands today for upward of $4,000. But in its time, this anti-book had an
intrinsic anti-commodity orientation. Jorns advocacy of its industrializa-
tion was aimed at the cult of artistic virtuosity; in the domain of industry
proper, the abrasive material of the books sandpaper covers defies the
commodity values of smooth industrial production and circulation, as
the printers experienced quite literally, to the cost of the knife in their
cutting machine.184 And the SI explicitly framed the book as a product of
anti-design, an unpopular book against the popularity of the mass-
market commodity: There is too much plastic, we prefer sandpaper.185
Of course, these apparently disruptive qualities could merely indicate a
different circuit of commercial value, that of the livre dartistes or artwork
proper. It is significant, then, that Debord describes Mmoires as a book
created not to be sold but to be a splendid or excessive gift, a potlatch.
In his preface to the 1993 reedition, Debord explains, Thus for thirty-five
years my Mmoires were never put on sale. Their celebrity comes from
only having been given out in the form of the potlatch: that is to say of
the sumptuous gift, challenging the other party to give something more
extreme in return.186 Practiced by certain American Indian tribes on the
Northwest coast, the potlatch is a circuit of inequivalent exchange where
the prestige of each party is a function of the extravagance of its gift to the
other, a gift that challenges the receiving party to outdo its extravagance
in return. Exchange here does not obfuscate social relations, as it does in
commodity circuits, but intensifies them, where relations are based not
on scarcity and command but on abundance and waste, of giving without
guarantee of return, the circulation of objects bearing an evental force of
disequilibrium.
The practice gave the title to the Lettrist Internationals bulletin,
Potlatch, which was true to its name in being sent gratuitously to ad-
dresses chosen by its editors, and to several people who asked to receive
it. It was never sold.187 Potlatch was an inexpensive, mimeographed typed
text bulletin, not untypical of its time, though it has certain formal effects
particular to its aims nonetheless. When contrasted with the experimental
extravagance of much avant-garde publication, its stripped-back form
evokes something of a clandestine newsletter, as Grail Marcus describes
it, and its unauthorized break with official discourse was made all the
more urgent and necessary by the apparent powerlessness of its medium,
as compared with the elegance of print, which empowers the most
impossible of sentences and thus delivers them to order:
In 1985 Debord republished the complete run of Potlatch in a brightly

typeset, cleanly designed book with a purple cover; it gave a sheen of
likelihood, of investment and return, to words that first trumpeted their
messages of destruction and rebirth in a realm outside apparent possibil-
ity, dim and smudged on loose sheets of mimeo.188
But notwithstanding these formal qualities, the gift nature of Potlatch, as

Debord put it in 1959, concerned more its textual content than anything
especially artifactual: the non-saleable goods that a free bulletin such
as this is able to distribute are novel desires and problems; and only the
further elaboration of these by others can constitute the corresponding
return gift.189 Mmoires, by contrast, was a decidedly more multifaceted

and material gift in the round. That said, it was in fact put on salethe
last page of Mmoires informs that it was distributed in the United States by
Wittenborn and Company, a renowned New York art publisher and book
shop, and Debords letters show efforts to secure distributors elsewhere.
His 1993 recollection is inaccurate or a little disingenuous, then, but there
is indication that the books place in commodity circuits was a function of
the need to finance the SIs activities, an inherently contradictory endeavor,
and no suggestion that Mmoires did not also circulate as a potlatch.190
If gift economies break with commodity exchange, they can introduce
social relations that are themselves constraining, as the gift serves to bind
and consolidate relations of obligation.191 And it is true that the circulation
of printed matter had a significant role in maintaining (and breaking) the
interpersonal and organizational relations of the SI, as Debords corre-
spondence attests.192 But this is only part of the story, for the SIs reading
of the potlatch economy was more that of Georges Bataille than Marcel
Mauss; if the excess affect or intensity associated with the gift-circulation
of Mmoires was directed toward establishing relations of association, such
relations were to manifest as a destructive effect on associational iden-
tity.193 That is to say, the patterns of association of the root-bookwith
its orientation toward establishing or molding an integrated collective
subject within its regimes of truth and authorityhave little presence in
Mmoires, which in this sense we might characterize as something of an
antimanifesto. Debord writes,
This anti-book was only offered to my friends, and no-one else was in-
formed of its existence. I wanted to speak the beautiful language of my
century. I wasnt too worried about being heard....I proved my sober
indifference to public opinion straight away, because the public were not
even allowed to see this work.194
His willful disregard here of this fundamental feature of the classical politi-
cal book, its subjectivating function, has a somewhat aristocratic air to it,
but it is by no means an apolitical move. Indeed, with a little work, we can
interpret Debords remark in the context of what David Banash considers
to be the most radical feature of Mmoires, namely, the breach it enacts
in the instrumental passage of conceptual and aesthetic production into

activist practice.195 The interlacing of theory and practice is foundational
for political Marxism, and radical politics more broadly, and yet is too often
ordered by a very limited understanding of both terms, whereby theory
is to be applied in practice and valued to the degree that this is achieved.
Rather than allowing theory to hold open a disruptive orientation to the
social world, including to practice, the latter overwhelms the former,
under the political imperative of what is to be done? And so practice,
unproblematized, risks reproducing established identities and political
forms, confirming the present rather than accentuating its limits.
The breach Mmoires enacts in such instrumental approaches to theory
and action is enacted through the qualities I have been considering, quali-
ties that make it a political bookintervening across linguistic, sensory,
subjective, and associational conditions of beingin large measure to
the degree that it is not an activist book. As to the specific theme of the
public, to which I turn now, the breach works against the instrumental
relation between a writer and his group, a group and its public or subject,
where a political text more normally serves to confirm each pole and bind
them in a relation of identity. The point can be teased out through reflec-
tion on another Situationist antiwork, the Hamburg Theses of September
1961, which Debord later recalls, not without some drama, as the most
mysterious and most formally experimental text in the entire history
of the SI.196
The Hamburg Theses, which were evoked several times in SI publi-
cations, were the result of a theoretical and strategic discussion between
Debord, Attila Kotnyi, and Raoul Vaneigem concerning the future con-
duct and critical orientations of the SI, held over a few days in Hamburg
bars en route from the SIs fifth conference in Gothenburg. There is
nothing unusual in this, except that, though the Hamburg Theses are
said by Debord to have authors, they have no existence as a text. They
were never published, nor was any written record made, as Debord first
publicly revealed in a 1989 letter to Thomas Y. Levin:
With the intention of not leaving any trace that could be observed or
analyzed from outside of the SI, nothing concerning this discussion and
what conclusions it reached was ever written down. It was found that the
simplest summary of its rich and complex conclusions could be expressed
in a single phrase: The SI must now realize philosophy. Even this very
phrase wasnt written down.197
The content of the Hamburg Theses was pivotal in the groups move
away from the practice and self-conception of an artistic avant-garde
to more overtly politicaltheoretical concerns (as came to a head in the
1962 split in the SI, with the exclusion of Gruppe SPUR and the associ-
ated exclusions and resignations of the Scandinavian artists, including
Jorn, who resigned the year earlier, albeit while continuing for a period
under the pseudonym of George Keller).198 But in its noninscription
and nonpublication, the striking innovation of the Hamburg Theses,
as Debord asserts, was not in their content but in their form, and in the
relation between the two.199 In a letter to Vaneigem that revels in the
paradoxical quality of this nontext, Debord writes, We agreed not to write
the Hamburg Theses, so as to impose all the better the central meaning
of our entire project in the future.200 How so? The political nature of this
form is not to be explained only by the value of secrecy and confusion,
though this is no doubt a feature. The experimental originality of the
Hamburg Theses lies, rather, in their negative act of nonrepresentation,
a blow against the informationist regime, against a society of incessant
representation and communication. And this, moreover, took shape in the
specific arena of revolutionary politics. The Hamburg antitext was a break
with the expressive norms of the historical avant-garde, as Debord main-
tains, which until then had given the impression of being avid to explain
themselves.201 Such eager self-representation, what Jacques Camatte calls
racketeerist marketing, serves to perpetuate the capitalist psychologi-
cal and organizational values of competitive self-promotion in nominally
anticapitalist scenes, while also confirming and consolidating political
identities as established in the present, for competition entrenches the
secure boundaries of the competing parties.202 Against this self-marketing,
the antitext of the Hamburg Theses performs a much more reflexive and
elusive task of self-undoingas Kotnyi put it, in oblique reference to the
Hamburg Theses, if, in spite of every appearance and all evidence to
the contrary, the sweeping away of our existence is a possibility, then we

will be the first to commit ourselves to this dissolution.203 Here we come
to this antitexts deployment of Marx, for the undoing of group identity
takes shape through the nonidentity of the proletariat.
Debord notes that the single phrase summary of the Hamburg
Theses (The SI must now realize philosophy) evokes Marxs formula
in A Contribution to the Critique of Hegels Philosophy of Right: Intro-
duction of the realization and suppression of philosophy, thus binding
this antitext to the negativity of the proletariat, as Anthony Hayes eluci-
dates.204 For in Marxs formulation, philosophy will not be realized until
it becomes adequate to the critique and overcoming of capital, becomes
adequate, that is, to the proletariat. Until it does so, philosophy merely
has a relation of identity to the world, it belongs to this world and is its
complement, as Marxs text has it.205 To be adequate to the proletariat
is not to represent it but to be adequate to a form that has no identity to
represent.206 The proletariat is the total loss of humanity, encountering
itself only through the domination of laborand the domination of the
absence of labor, for those without paid work, and of reproductive labor,
which only appears not to be determined by capital. As such, it can realize
itself only in its own abolition. It is not a collective subject in a face-off
with the bourgeoisie but a class that must fight against itself, against the
identitiesof work, industrial sector, gender, race, nationby which
it is bound to and reproduces capital, a class that realizes itself only in its
own suppression: When the proletariat proclaims the dissolution of the
existing world order, it is only declaring the secret of its own existence, for
it is the actual dissolution of that order.207
How can a text be adequate to this nonidentity? As we have seen, the
Hamburg Theses are one response, embodying in expressive form the
nonidentity of the proletariat, its restlessness within its very self.208 For
this antitext develops the theoretical critique of capital as that which must
be unbound from workers identity; it undoes the avant-garde group as
privileged agent of revolution, refusing its identity-forming mechanisms
of self-marketing; and it negates its own identity as a text by subtracting
the means of inscription and publication by which it might otherwise
become established in the world. The Hamburg Theses are a text that is
not a text for a class of civil society which is not a class of civil society,
a class [Stand] which is the dissolution of all classes.209
It might seem fitting that a text pivotal to the shift in the SIs center
of gravity from intervention in culture and the production of artworks
took the form of a non-work, a text without physical presence. But if it is
indeed apt, it reveals a flaw, a tendency in the SI after the split to magically
solve the proletarian problemof acting in nonidentity with societyby
retreating into theory, transcending the awkward materialities of everyday
life in the pristine clarity of the concept. As Howard Slater argues, it is an
approach that, ironically, binds the group back into identity, as precision
in its conceptual negation becomes the condition of its idealized self-
image, a self-image nurtured by the pursuit of written coherence.210
And yet the physical absence of the Hamburg Theses is still an interven-
tion in form, and their paradoxical quality is dependent on the fact that
texts are in the main physically instantiated, as was the case for SI texts
before and after the 1962 split. Here artful intervention in material form
persisted. It is not only that the SI, despite the declared move away from
art, continued to focus on the cultural arena and on the production of
filmas others have notedbut it also directed considerable artistic ef-
fort toward the physical and formal manifestations of its theory.211 There
are numerous instances, regarding which we can note in passing that the
SI reflexively deployed a range of textual forms and mediums, including
a photo-romance (Ralph Rumneys 1957 psychogeographic report The
Leaning Tower of Venice); a filoform tract (as Debord described the 1958
Adresse aux producteurs de lart moderne, a single line of text printed on
a band of paper 2 90 centimeters); telegrams (as used to great poetic
effect in May 1968, most especially the telegram sent to the Politburo
of the Chinese Communist Party, which began, Shake in your shoes
bureaucrats); a deluxe edition (Gianfranco Sanguinettis 1975 The Real
Report on the Last Chance to Save Capitalism in Italy, under the pen name
Censor, whose success as a fakein revealing the social elites credulity
of the books theses concerning the states false flag operations against
the workers movement, for examplewas achieved by its convincing
mimic of the cultured and lucid cynicism of a high bourgeois, among
other textual means, but was aided by its appeal to bourgeois bibliographic
vanities with its luxury paper and numbered edition); and encompassing
leaflets, posters, maps, graffiti, cartoons, postcards, pamphlets, journals,
and books.212 Then there is the carefully crafted page design of the SIs
self-published text, its spatial arrangement and graphic style by turns
classical and modernist, and, of course, the metallic-look, colored covers
to Internationale situationniste, regarding the material qualities of which
Debord exercised close attention.213 It was a design coup that, as McKenzie
Wark notes, packaged the journal as a rare and elusive entity even asor
becausethe content was open to free and profligate appropriation, the
journal defying the property form of text with the prominent anticopy-
right notice that readers encountered upon turning the title page: All
texts published in Internationale situationniste may be freely reproduced,
translated and adapted, even without indication of origin.214
On the Scandinavian side of the split, the political aesthetics of print
were given more autonomy by the nondisavowal of art. In Jorns impres-
sive repertoire of aesthetic mediums, the book had a not inconsiderable
presence, as Ruth Baumeister has shown, but print media took an espe-
cially inventive form in Jacqueline de Jongs journal The Situationist Times
(196267).215 A plus-A4 format comprising paper stock in varying textures,
colors, weights, and opacities; fold-outs; and, in issue 6, lithographic art
prints, The Situationist Times is flooded with diagrams, sketches, topologi-
cal figures, and photographic images that break out from the confines of
illustration to play a leading role in the journals morphological experiments
and concepts.216 Indeed, in issues 3, 4, and 5, on labyrinths, rings, and
knots, text often cedes its place entirely to the comparative juxtaposition
of forms, visual essays, as Slater describes the method, best suited to
reveal the differences, the variabilities within similar forms and motifs,
and that could override and draw attention to the overlooked ambigui-
ties and unsuspected authoritarianisms of language (Figure 8).217 One
text in the first issue of The Situationist Times is of especial note here, de
Jongs Critique of the Political Practice of Dtournement (Plate 9).218
It narrates and challenges the couplike manner of the 1962 exclusion of
the German and Scandinavian sections and does so in a way that at once
articulates and refuses the declared terms of that split by bringing art and
Figure 8. The Situationist Times, no. 5, 1964, showing images from disparate sources
of the issue theme of rings.
text together, in an expressionistic, handwritten, graphic work of published

writing. This intensive material text flows, spirals, tightens, and eddies
across twelve pages, barely readable in many points, and is charged with
a heightened emotion, with laughter and rage, as is the narrative and
conceptual content of the workquite the opposite of the SIs ice-cold
politico-aesthetics of exclusion, of No Useless Indulgences, as the title
of Michle Bernsteins text on such matters has it.219
Returning to Mmoires, it shares with the Hamburg Theses the SIs
enduring and deliberate political aesthetics of textual form, while mak-
ing its own anti-book intervention in both textual and physical planes,
the summit in book-form of the moment when the SI could confidently
hold art and theory together. However, my discussion of the Hamburg
Theses had a different initial purpose, to bring their formal critique of
the self-present subject of revolution to shed light on the antipublic
form of Mmoires. If the potlatch quality of Mmoires disrupted the
community-binding circulation of objects, the unbound community to

which it was offered was the proletariatMmoires was a proletarian
gift. We can now say with more conceptual clarity that the aim of M-
moires was not to be heard by a public or existent political subject
but to problematize such relations between book and public, and their
respective identities, including the identity of avant-garde authors or
groups who would present themselves as achieved embodiments of that
problematization (and so are nothing of the sort). Here the disaggregat-
ing property of the rhizome-bookconsidered thus far in the form of
the Futurist worldbackwards and Artauds unproductive body without
organshas a direct impact on the communist thematic of revolutionary
subjectivity. Mmoires aborts its unity as a concentrated bloc of semiotic
authority and relinquishes the role of group attractoras site and means
of self-marketing and subjectivationall the better to affirm distributed,
emergent, and self-critical composition as the proper substance of com-
munist politics.220 If literary communism is a move against information,
it is, then, also a move against community, to allow this shared trope of
Jean-Luc Nancy and Debord to momentarily place them in proximity.
Literary communism enacts an inoperative community that affirms
the reciprocal constitution between writing and community only on the
condition that identity be cut away from both, where literary communism
is the undoingor interruption, fragmentation, suspensionof any
total work and any consummated collectivity.221
There is also a temporal dimension to this antipublic form, on which
I will draw this discussion to a close. In repelling the certainties and
seductions of political subjectivity, Mmoires simultaneously suspends
its temporality, the nonlinear and broken flow of the books pages unset-
tling the now of instrumental actiona necessary move if politics is
not to be exclusively determined by the limited parameters of the present
but remain open to the unforeseen, to the event. This point, which, as I
have argued, is handled in the aesthetic form of Mmoires, is developed
conceptually in The Society of the Spectacle and in relation to the theme of
revolutionary subjectivity. The last lines of the latter book take the rather
standard, manifesto-like form of an upbeat appeal to the final victory and
its agent, in this case the organizational form of the workers council.
But the penultimate passage has a decidedly more exploratory bent, sug-
gesting that the demand for political immediacy serves in fact to excise
the political from the immediate and leave it conditioned by the past, by
what is already, rather than what may become. Here the restlessness
of the proletariat combines with a certain revolutionary waiting, together
constituting a communism not of action, as such, but of the event:
The abstract desire for immediate effectiveness accepts the laws of the
ruling thought, the exclusive point of view of the present, when it throws
itself into reformist compromises or trashy pseudo-revolutionary common
actions. Thus madness reappears in the very posture which pretends to
fight it. Conversely, the critique which goes beyond the spectacle must
know how to wait.222
A prcis of my argument in this chapter may be helpful in underscoring

what Deleuze and Guattaris typology enables us to say about political
books. Their approach requires that people of the political book recognize,
and extract themselves from, the essentially religious structures and pas-
sions that regulate the books field. Each time a political book declares or
implies its unique truth and total access to the world, the concept of the
root-book invites us to consider how this truth is created from a cleavage
with the world, truth as spiritual dogma that is then returned to the world
as authoritarian passion. This critical approach suggests that we explore
such formations with attention to the full materiality of books, even if De-
leuze and Guattari do not quite do so themselves. I have done this here with
Maos Quotations. Maos book was a wholly material entity, but its material
qualitiescolor, portability, textual structurefed into, and were gov-
erned by, the books spiritual autonomy and authoritarian regimes of truth.
If the political book is to break with this root-book structure, it needs
a different relation to matter, a relation Deleuze and Guattari elucidate
through the concept of the rhizome-book. This concept is useful less as
a mechanism of classification than for what it encourages us to see in
the experimental field of political books. As such, it is best approached
through the properties of specific books, in their rich working of mat-
ters. It is possible to set out some shared characteristics of the specific
rhizome-books considered in this chapter. In these works, language is
unmoored from signifying chains and dogmatic compulsions, be that in

the mode of Futurist transrational sensory blocs, Artauds howl-words, or
Debord and Jorns devalued informational patterns. And this language is
enmeshed with variable material fields in a remodeling of the object of the
book: as a haptic sensory arrangement of eclectic printed materials; as a
dynamic membrane of body-sieve paper; as an anti-book of appropriated
materials, nonlinear structures, and virtual images. Just as the material
world floods into these books, breaching their boundary with nature, so
also is the books subject undone, most radically in Artauds spells, which
operate as involutions of body and word in paper membranes of sensory
intensity. Each set of books, too, undoes the books teleological authority
and coherence: a worldbackwards of irregular and refolded materials; a
fragment put to fire; an antimanifesto with an inoperative public.
Yet it is also clear that these books emerged from singular political
and aesthetic contexts and problematics. In Mmoires, for instance, the
conjunction of communication and authority is approached explicitly as
a dimension of capital, unlike in the other works considered here, and
this books disruptive properties are a unique aesthetic modulation of the
nonidentity of the proletariat and the communist critique of avant-garde
organization. These situated variations are such that the concept of the
rhizome-book cannot describe a cumulative set or itemized aggregate of
appropriate techniques. To take seriously Deleuze and Guattaris taste
for matter requires that the concept operate immanently to the concrete
field it surveys.223 In any particular instance, one would expect the inter-
action of both root and rhizome tendencies. The books considered in
this chapter push either tendency to extremes, so indicating the singular
possibilities and variations of political books, but even here one could no
doubt also find aspects of the opposing tendency, especially if these books
were considered also in terms of their relations of receptionthere is
nothing exhaustive about my treatment.
The political book emerges from the works considered in this chapter,
then, as a highly complex entity, where politics is operative in a books
concepts and textual content, as one expects, but also in its passions
and authority and in its physical, sensory, temporal, and spatial proper-
ties. If radical politics concerns transformation of the very conditions of
beingnot the merely political revolution, the revolution which leaves

the pillars of the building standing, against which Marx posits commu-
nism properthen evaluation of these latter properties is as important
as attending to a books more overt political expressions.224 Indeed, it is
attention to the breadth of the materiality of books that has enabled me
to argue that some of the most apparently radical aspects of books can
often be their most reactionary.
4
What Matter Whos Speaking?
The Politics of Anonymous Authorship
It is the attribute of the bourgeois world that all commodities

bear their makers name, all ideas are followed by their authors
signature, every party is defined by its leaders name....Work
such as ours can only succeed by being hard and laborious and
unaided by bourgeois publicity techniques, by the vile tendency
to admire and adulate men.
amadeo bordiga, Sul Filo del Tempo
It was the printing press that finally was to kill Anon. But it
was the press also that preserved him.
virginia woolf, Anon.
I begin this chapter with an epigraph attributed to Amadeo Bordiga,

cofounder of the Italian Communist Party, but it has an uneasy presence
here, for its content clashes with its form.1 While the illuminating effects
of epigraphic text are in part secured by their authorial designation, it
is precisely to such forms of legitimation and authority attendant on
the authors name that Bordigas text stands opposed. The fault for this
contradiction does not lie with Bordiga, however. If we had read these
sentences in their original context, attribution to a particular individual,
or indeed to an individual at all, would have been less straightforward,
because Bordiga published his considerable contributions to communist
thought anonymously, declining to sign his name to most of his work.
Pause to consider how singular that intervention is, both in its time, for
here is the one-time leader of a political party willingly relinquishing
the prestige and authority that he would otherwise have garnered from
his writings, and now, because the identification of creative textual ex-
pression with an author, and the marketing of text on that basis, shows
168
what matter whos speaking? 169
every sign of continuing apace, or intensifying, whether one looks to

popular book markets, academic research, or social media. Even as I
seek here to champion anonymous authorship, Anti-Book carries my
name on its covers.
Hard and laborious is perhaps not the formulation I would choose,
but in this characterization Bordiga conveys a useful impression that autho-
rial anonymity is something to be achieved, repelling the vile tendency
to adulate individuals in an open set of acts and procedures. There have
of course been numerous communist interventions against the power and
degenerative effects of the possessive individual, often in concert with
moves toward anonymous collective practice, from Ned Ludd onward.2
And, in recent times, anonymous political practice has had a place in the
realm of the popular political imaginary, with the Russian activist group
Pussy Riot and the hacker movement Anonymous being signal instances.3
Nevertheless, Bordigas communist pursuit of the capitalist structure
of identity into the form of the author is a rare move, thus electing his
revolutionary anonymity, paradoxically, as an emblem for this chapter.
In chapters 2 and 3, I concentrated on particular publishing platforms,
and I will do so again in chapter 5, but here my interest lies in a media
form, the author, which is embedded in the range of platforms as the
lynchpin to the property forms and subjectivities of writing and publish-
ing. I first present the critique of the author-function in Foucault and
Marx before indicating the opening of a countertendency in Foucaults
occasional comments on anonymous writing. The discussion then turns
to two empirical cases of anonymous or pseudonymous authorship, the
Luther Blissett multiple name (199599) and Bernadette Corpora-
tions novel Reena Spaulings (2005). As will be clear shortly, Marx and
Foucault show that the central problematic of experiments in anonymous
authorship is the authors relationship to her outside, to social relations
broadly conceived. In Reena Spaulings, the outside is figured as a relation
to the city but also, in its broader context of production, to another novel,
Michle Bernsteins All the Kings Horses, whereas in the case of Luther
Blissett, the outside is modeled through Marxs formulations of com-
munal being and general intellect. These latter featured in Bordigas
theoretical pursuits, but his deployment of authorial anonymity was made
170 what matter whos speaking?
in relationship to a different problematic, that of the party. It is to this

dimension of the communist authors outside that the chapter moves
next, prompted by the notion of the imaginary party in the French
journal Tiqqun and The Invisible Committee, pseudonymous author of
The Coming Insurrection. In this discussion, I set out the anti-identitarian
qualities of Marxs theory of the party through his twofold formulation
of the ephemeral and historical party, though I do this not to take up
the question of political organization but to draw out features of writing
practice that arise when anonymity and the party come into relation, with
regard especially to questions of textual authority and dogma, practices
I pursue through three journal publishing projects: Comit, the revue of
the May 1968 group, Comit dAction Etudiants-Ecrivains; Marx and
Arnold Ruges Deutsch-Franzische Jahrbcher; and the communization
journal Endnotes.
Foucault and Marx on the Author-Function
In his dissection of the features of the modern author-function, Foucault

famously associates its emergence, from the late eighteenth century, with
texts that came to function, through the mechanisms of copyright law, as
units of property. The modern author arises from the polymorphous field
of discourse as a means to confer authority and distinction on a discrete
share of text, a work, and is concurrently projected back onto that work
as its sole and unique source, whence arises his proprietary rights. Quite
the contrary, then, to our customary picture of the author as exceptional
fount of refined signification, the author does not precede the works;
he is a certain functional principle by which, in our culture, one limits,
excludes, and chooses.4 Or, as Jeffrey Nealon underscores the property
dimensions of Foucaults construction, this is the author-function [as]
a creator of scarcity, an interior space introduced into an exterior field of
discourse to create privileged nodes of value.5 In the history of textual
production, then, the coming into being of the author-function constitutes
the privileged moment of individualization, an individualization that is
bound to the property form of writing.6 (We should note too that this
property form is understood as an immaterial entity, the work abstracted
from any physical medium that may carry it, and so the author-function is
a central dimension of the textmatter distinction we have been following
throughout Anti-Book.)
This late-eighteenth-century arrival of the author into the dominant
social order of property is not, however, the authors first appearance; it
is historically secondary to authorial identification via penal law, where
named authorship was a mark of, and deterrent to, transgressive discourse.
Foucault explains:
Texts, books, and discourses really began to have authors (other than
mythical, sacralized and sacralizing figures) to the extent that authors
became subject to punishment, that is, to the extent that discourses could
be transgressive. In our culture (and doubtless in many others), discourse
was not originally a product, a thing, a kind of goods; it was essentially
an actan act placed in the bipolar field of the sacred and the profane,
the licit and the illicit, the religious and the blasphemous. Historically,
it was a gesture fraught with risks before becoming goods caught up in
a circuit of ownership.7
For example, an English parliamentary edict of 1642, responding to a flood

of anonymous publications, required that the Printers do neither print
or reprint any thing without the name and Consent of the Author.8 The
first inkling of the rights of the author are apparent here, certainly, but,
as Mark Rose argues, this edict does not index a regime of property,
of the authorwork conjunction, but a regime of regulation, its aim to
prevent transgressions of public discourse.9
This transgressive dimension to writing does not of course vanish with
modernity; Foucault argues that it carries over into the property regime
of the author, but it does so predominantly in a domesticated fashion as a
propensity toward transgressive literary content, as if the author were in
this way compensated for her entry into the social order of property,
literature becoming a field of sanctioned transgression.10 Hence, in this
essay, Foucault finds that literary content offers little for a politics of
writing. What is required, instead, is a more structural intervention, as
he hints at in What Is an Author? and later goes some way to formu-
late, namely, that the politics of writing might be developed in direct
opposition to the author-function. I leave that point in Foucault hanging for

a moment to introduce Marxs interventions on this front of the author,
interventions that allow us to tentatively raise the question of anonymous
authorship.
The strange interplay of textual property and penal law in the con-
stitutive field of the author is evident also in Marx, in his earliest pieces
of journalism on censorship and freedom of the press in the Rheinische
Zeitung (Rheinish newspaper), though this time censorship and property
constraints are more directly enmeshed. In the first of these articles, an
1842 text on the occasion of a new censorship law, Marx argues that the
Prussian censors function of conferring and securing the identity of its
authors effected precisely the inverse. Far from a protective act, this
state-sanctioned form of literary identity stripped authors of their real
individuality, subject as they now were to write within the established
limits, at pain of censorship or prosecution. Marx thus declaims, The
law permits me to write, only I must write in a style that is not mine! I
may show my spiritual countenance, but I must first set it in the prescribed
folds!11 Somewhat confirming his point, the text was summarily banned.
I will continue with the object of Marxs critique here a little more, but let
me indicate, to pick up again shortly, that another dimension to Marxs
critique of the author is also introduced here. Marx makes no direct case
for anonymity in this text, but it was part of the texts construction and
effect, for Marx signed it pseudonymously, by a Rhinelander.
Not that censorship stood as an evil alone, as it did for bourgeois
critics. If Marxs sight points back against the feudal model of press
censorship, the prohibition against transgression, it also points forward
against that which the bourgeois critics of censorship were ushering in.
For Marx in these articles on press freedom made trenchant attacks also
on the commodity form of writing, where the press degrades itself to the
level of a trade, subject not to the rigors of thought and critical debate
but to the market laws of free trade.12 Under these conditions, censorship
is merely an exceptional moment of unfreedom in a press that is unfree
in its very structure, such that, as he quips, The writer who degrades the
press into being a material means deserves as punishment for this internal
unfreedom the external unfreedom of censorship.13 All the same, the
modern property form of writing was not yet fully formed, and neither was
Marxs communist insight, for his formulation of the writers expressive
individuality overlaps with a trope that helped to facilitate the property
regime of writing. While the emergence of copyright was bound up in
liberal discourses of the natural right to propertya right resultant, in
John Lockes foundational formulation, from the proprietor having mixed
his Labour with natureit found a ready companion in the romantic
conception of the author as creative individual.14 A properly communist
construction of the source of writing must hence look elsewhere than
to a supposedly unalienated creative subject, as Marx himself signals in
other texts on the matter.
Ten years after these texts on press freedom, a French decree that
all journal articles bear their authors signatures prompted Marx in Class
Struggles in France to underscore the association of state-sanctioned author-
ship with the debasement of the critical field, only this time he indicates
also the interplay between textual property and named authorship (as
text becomes self-advertisement). Here it is less the authors creative
individuality than an amorphous public discourse that is Marxs valued party,
and now a political value is accorded anonymity in the argument itself:
So long as the press was anonymous it appeared as the organ of a public

opinion without number or name; it was the third power of the state. With
the signature of each article a newspaper became merely a collection of
journalistic contributions by more or less well-known individuals. Every
article sank to the level of an advertisement.15
This can be taken as part explanation for why Marx himself penned hun-
dreds of periodical articles and reports without signature, a fact rarely
noted but confirmed by the bibliographies to almost all the fifty volumes
of the Marx and Engels collected works. It is not quite a communist
theory of writing, for the presspublic conjunction is here understood to
be a condition for a functioning bourgeois polity, as is indicated by the
metaphoric association with the circulation of money in the continuation
of the preceding passage: Hitherto the newspapers had circulated as the
paper money of public opinion; now they were reduced to more or less
worthless promissory notes, whose value and circulation depended on the
credit, not only of the issuer, but also of the endorser.16 Nonetheless, the
public in Marxs writings on press freedom has a radical dimension. It
is posited against those social roles that are approved to speak, academics
(learned men by profession, guild or privilege, with their distinguished
pedantry and their petty hair-splitting dissertations, interposed...be-
tween the people and the mind, between life and science) no less than
journalists. In their stead, it is the unauthorised writers who carry the
true commitment to writing, who feel a vital need of the press.17
If anonymity here pertains to individual and collective expression
against the twin debasements of the state-sanctioned and bankable author,
Marx makes an enticing claim that anonymous text has a destabilizing ef-
fect also on the psychic economy of the state, a point developed by Marga-
ret Rose. The censor experienced unsigned works, in Marxs words, as an
uncanny anonymity.18 For, having taken away authors singular qualities
through the conferral of state identityhaving rendered them anonymous,
in other words, in the sense of being generic and interchangeablethe
censor was then faced with an anonymity that undermined his intentions,
a critical and collective writing without name that was the alien product
of his own action. The censor, as Rose puts it, was psychologically and
tactically confronted by the very anonymity [censorship] would abolish,
as uncannily its own now alienated and foreign creation.19
Marxs construction of uncanny anonymity here is especially use-
ful in stressing that anonymous authorship impacts not only the author
herself but also the social nexus more broadlyin this case, the psychic
economy of the censor and the discursive structures of censorship. That
said, though in these texts Marx poses a challenge to the state-sanctioned
form of the author and makes the opening moves to a critique of the
modern author-function, anonymous authorship was for him more a tool
to aid in the emergence of bourgeois polities than it was a textual feature
of their communist overcoming. I suspect that the deliberate adoption
of anonymity as a communist practice would have been viewed by Marx
to be in too close proximity to the conspiratorial forms of Masonic and
Bakuninist politics, a fetter to his move to publish communism openly,
in the face of the whole world.20 And yet the very text where Marx
makes this declaration of nonclandestine openness, The Manifesto of the
Communist Party, was in fact published anonymously, where it opens an

enticing dimension to anonymous authorship, as we will see later on.
To Conquer the Anonymous
If Marx was at the limit of affirming anonymous authorship as an anti-

capitalist textual form, Foucault tips over it, with forays into anonymity
as a deliberate counter to the modern author-function. We should keep
in mind here that Foucaults critique, in contrast to Marxs pseudony-
mous intervention, is made not only against censorship but against the
conditions of all discourse, or all discourse within which one encounters
authors, and that this is part of a carefully constructed ethics of writing.
In What Is an Author? anonymity takes two forms. At the essays close,
Foucault imagines a culture where discourses would circulate in a perva-
sive anonymity, evaluated not in terms of their authenticity, originality,
and subjective density (that is, as governed by the author-function) but
in terms of their structural patterns and functions, a direction encapsu-
lated in his quotation, at the essays close, from Samuel Becketts Texts
for Nothing: What matter whos speaking?21 But while Foucault here
imagines a world without the author-function, this formulation is more
a condensed presentation of his archaeological method for the analysis
of discourse than it is an indication of a specific practice of anonymity.
That is not the last word, however, for the text also contains resources
for a more concerted ethics of written anonymity. If the author-function
is internal to the privatization of discourse, there are indications that the
author, the writer of a text, may have a different role. This is not quite the
writer as empirical person. The author-function does not merely mold
and block the individuality of the writer, as the young Marx had it; for
Foucault, there is nothing of the real individual in the game of writing,
the writer exists here as a dead man.22 But in this absence lies the au-
thors potential force, the trace indication of a life that can in no way be
reconstructed, a mark of the writer [who] is reduced to nothing more
than the singularity of his absence.23
This is enigmatic indeed, though it opens out to a rich stream in
Foucaults ethics of writing, where the politics of the author arises in the
authors absence or, given its necessary combat with the author-function,
in techniques for producing that absence. It is in this direction that I now move.
Foucault gave an interview with Le Monde in April 1980 in which he
declined to reveal his identity, describing the deliberate choice of authorial
anonymity as a means to a better surface of contact with the reader, one
unrippled or no longer distracted by the authors name.24 This is for a
chance of better being heard, for sure, but also, more significantly, for
a dynamic life of the work beyond authorial intent: The effects of the
book might land in unexpected places and form shapes that I had never
thought of.25 Such attention to opening the foreclosed work in the realm
of its readers is complemented by Foucaults thoughts on what anonymity
might bring to the author. In another interview, Foucault comments that
a work does not belong to the authors project or existenceit is,
rather, a desubjectifying experience of the outside: It maintains with
[the author] relationships of negation and destruction, it is for him the
flowing of an eternal outside.26 To conquer the anonymous, as Fou-
cault puts it, is to construct and affirm this relation of authorial erasure
in the opening to the authors outside. This, not the individuation of the
author-function, is the real mark of singularity:
What gives books like those which have no other pretension than to be
anonymous so many marks of singularity and individuality are not the
privileged signs of a style, nor the mark of a singular or individual inter-
pretation, but the rage to apply the eraser by which one meticulously
effaces all that could refer to a written individuality.27
At this point we should draw a distinction that is often blurred in Foucaults

comments on anonymity. In certain places, such claims to the erasure of
written individuality occur under this authors name, most famously in
Foucaults declaration in The Archaeology of Knowledge that his writing
prepared a labyrinth into which he could lose himself: I am no doubt
not the only one who writes in order to have no face. Do not ask who
I am and do not ask me to remain the same: leave it to our bureaucrats
and our police to see that our papers are in order. At least spare us their
morality when we write.28 These moments are of limited help to us. For
as Nealon observes, such declarations of faceless singularity emanating
from a named author and posited against the bureaucrats of the norm
have the unfortunate effect of charging the author with a power of scarcity
and transformation that invokes and intensifies the very structures and
privileges he claims to overcome, Foucault here borrowing the not-so-rare
trope of the author as unique point of transvaluation.29 Fortunately, as we
have seen, this was not Foucaults only route to anonymity.30
Transindividual Authorship
I turn now to concrete practices of anonymous authorship, first to Luther

Blissett. Of the different strategies to conquer the anonymous, Foucault
comments favorably on the use of collective pseudonyms, saying this of
Nicolas Bourbaki, the pseudonymous collective mathematician: Bour-
baki is at bottom the model. The dream for all would be, each in his own
domain, to make something like this Bourbaki, where mathematics is
elaborated under the anonymity of a fantastic name.31 This is the broad
direction taken by Luther Blissett, though with an important difference.
Unlike Bourbaki, whose name functions as the signature of a delimited
collective, Luther Blissett was a multiple name without border, an
enunciative function, as I will explain in depth shortly, that was open to
anyone.32 This multiple name was first established in Bologna, Italy, in
the mid-1990s, as a project oriented toward scandals and pranks of com-
munist hue and making tactical use of the cityscape and diverse mediums,
from radio and Internet to music and the novel. The politics of author-
ship was by no means Luther Blissetts only concern, but it was a central
constitutive feature and is the aspect of his composition and practice on
which I focus here.
Luther Blissett was no less interested than Foucault in a form of
anonymous writing that arises from the authors outside, though he ap-
proached it in a way that brings Marx back into our discussion, for Luther
Blissett at times understood himself to be an articulation of communal
being and general intellect, terms developed by Marx to conceptualize
sociality against the dichotomy, so foundational to capitalist modernity,
between the individual and the social, a political sociality of the communal
or the common.33 Taking communal being and its direct cognates first,
Marx famously shows in On the Jewish Question how the bourgeois

individual of the modern statethe citizen, the subject of the rights of
man, the possessive individual as we know it since C.B. MacPherson
is premised on an opposition between individual and social existence. In
this oppositional relation, the social appears to impinge on the primary
autonomy of the individual, but the real delimiting power is actually the
social form of the individual itself, the confined individual, confined to
himself.34 A product of the capitalist social, the individual masquerades as
its ground and cause, constraining expansive social being into the isolated
subject of private property:
In the rights of man it is not man who appears as a species-being; on the

contrary, species-life itself, society, appears as a framework extraneous to
the individuals, as a limitation of their original independence. The only
bond which holds them together is natural necessity, need and private
interest, the conservation of their property and their egoistic persons.35
Bourgeois politics partakes of and enforces this structure, such that

social being experiences a double degradation, not only excised from the
confined and partial individual but reduced to a mere support for the
latter, as the [political] sphere in which man behaves as a communal
being [Gemeinwesen] is degraded to a level below the sphere in which he
behaves as a partial being.36
By contrast, Luther Blissetts politics of the collective pseudonym
seeks to break the bounds of the partial individual by founding itself on,
or bringing into expression, the communal being that traverses and ex-
ceeds the individual. As Stathis Kouvlakis points out, the whole bearing
of Marxs critical philosophy, which for shorthand we can call his anti-
utopianism, prevents him from stipulating the positive determinations
of communal being.37 The concept is instead more a means of immanent
critique, whose conditions can be observed only negatively, in revealing
the proclaimed universal community of the bourgeois individual to be
in fact one of a-social isolation, as we have seen, and to be premised on a
series of exclusions. For the structure of the bourgeois subject placed slaves,
racialized others, women, the working class, with their tenuous relation
to property, or being property, as outside of the political community,
their social conditions of life naturalized as prepolitical. That lack of

positive determination does not mean, however, that we cannot gain
faint glimpses of communal being, if we understand it less as a resource
available to be tapped than as a construction that arises in practices that
undo the partial individual and the social forms that produce and sustain
it. Here the individual and the collective are no longer placed in a dichoto-
mous relation, for the dichotomy is undone along with the terms that it
produces, as each individual or, as we can now call it, singular instance
is a product of collective relations, and each collectivity is constituted
through its singular and various manifestations. As Luther Blissett puts it,
the collective pseudonym is the production of a multiple single within
and against the partial mode of being of the individual.38 Let us be clear,
there is no unanimity here. The multiple single is collectivity in difference
and discontinuity, collectivity that is without bounds or that exists insofar
as it undoes its bounds. As Jean-Luc Nancy has it in his formulation of
the singular plural, which is not uninformed by Marx, the common,
having-in-common or being-in-common, excludes interior unity, subsis-
tence, and presence in and for itself. Being with, being together and even
being united are precisely not a matter of being one.39
Bringing the now communist Marx to bear on his Young Hegelian self,
we might make a leap to say that the multiple single is the real individu-
ality that Marx was groping toward in his critique of the state-approved
author, if communal being can take the place of the authors spiritual
countenance. From the standpoint of the multiple single, the source of
the written word ceases to be subjective interiority and becomes instead
the immersion in an individuals outside qua polymorphous communal
being, an operation with words against the borders of the individual. Here
authorial originality gives way to a kind of primary creative plagiarism, a
molding of that which is always prior to and in excess of the individuala
continual recombination and variation of cultural and existential materi-
als that deny any dichotomy between collective and individual.40 As
one Luther Blissett veteran later put it, with regard to a writing project we
will encounter in chapter 6, I work with other people, we write fiction
by using words, images, colors and sounds that we pick up from everyday
life, history and the media landscape. A whole, open community writes
along with us, albeit unconsciously or semi-consciously. This has always

been true for every author and cultural artifact.41
There is a certain universality here (every author), yet the ontology
of expressive communal being is not a timeless abstraction but something
located in features of collective production particular to contemporary
capitalismhence the centrality of the second of Marxs concepts, the
general intellect, of which Luther Blissett has characterized himself as
a paradoxical anthropomorphisation.42 In the concept of the general
intellect, Marx seeks to account for the effects of an expansive general
social knowledge become direct force of production.43 General intellect
is a fundamentally social formation that exists both transindividually
circulating and multiplying in what Marx suggestively calls the social
individual and the social brainand machinically, in its immanent
articulation with science and technology.44 It is an astonishingly prescient
concept that projects from the early days of industrial production to grasp
a great deal of the capacity of contemporary capitalism to generate social
wealth outside of direct labor time, from the properties of communal being
existent across the social whole, incorporating the cognitive, linguistic,
corporeal, and affective dimensions of association.45 But as an analysis
of tendencies in capitalism, general intellect is as much a concept of de-
stabilization and crisis as it is a description of a set of emerging powers
and relations. For instead of leading to the progressive overcoming of
work, the powers of general intellect serve to intensify its imposition, as
per usual for the function of technology in capitalism, while accentuating
the general law of capitalist accumulation, as Marx has it, namely, the
tendential reduction in the proportion of variable to fixed capital, leading
to the growth of surplus populations and crises of overaccumulation.46
Amid these features, I would draw attention to three points of special
relevance to the multiple name. First, the terrain of communal being qua
general intellect is wholly technocultural: there is no naturalism to it. Sec-
ond, as an articulation of general intellect, the multiple-name author is not
a point external to capitalist patterns of association but is enmeshed within
them, her substancecognitive capacities, technological and linguistic
virtuosity, the cultivation of collective affectsincreasingly central to the
preferred ethico-aesthetic regimes of neoliberal subjectivity. Hence, third,
the multiple name must now not only affirm communal being against the
partial individual (an ever vital political task in our intensely individuated
societies) but also critically orient herself against the ways that communal
being, or a certain modality of it, has itself become a key capitalist resource
and championed as such. The latter is a particularly acute fault line of
collective, anonymous practice. As the anonymous collective authors
of the book Speculate This! observe, many of the favored expressive and
organizational characteristics of anonymity are now celebrated business
values of the post-Fordist enterprise, in its paradigmatic models of the
work team and the project.47 Anonymous collectivity cannot, hence,
be affirmed in and of itself; for Speculate This!, and, I would concur, the
communist potential of anonymity, depends in large measure on the degree
to which it interrupts the corporate articulation of anonymous collectiv-
ity in work, in both the senses of labor and of proprietorial product.
Luther Blissetts Q
If the multiple single is the ontological condition of Luther Blissetts

anonymity, it is not reached merely by dropping ones name. Anonym-
ity must be actively constructed, as can be observed in Luther Blissetts
practice of the multiple name. I approach it here through four imbricated
aspects: the transindividual agency of the proper name in the novel Q ,
the subjective and temporal disaggregation of the author-function, its im-
manence to mass media, and the changed status of the authors property.
In a subsequent section, I address Qs interventions in the medium of the
book through consideration of The Benefit of Christ Crucified, a book that
functions in Q as a self-reflexive double to draw out a number of specifi-
cally medial themes.
To reiterate, the multiple single is not an undifferentiated whole but
an open field where singularity is an expression of collectivity, and vice
versa. It is at this juncture of collectivity and difference that the peculiar
function of the proper name is located in Luther Blissetts novel, Q. Keep-
ing with our conceptual terms, Sabrina Ovan makes a compelling case
that the narrative motor of Q is precisely the transindividual property of
the general intellect, a motor set in motion by the name.48 Narrating the
turmoil of peasant insurgency, radical heresy, and nascent capitalism in

sixteenth-century Reformation Europe, the novel follows two characters
in their itinerant movement across the European terrain, paying special
attention to the social and technological webs of authority, political alli-
ance and intrigue, banking and trade, and production and distribution of
early printed matter. One character, the eponymous Q, is an austere papal
spy and heretic hunter, agent of Giovanni Pietro Carafa, who was soon
to become Pope. The other, the object of Qs pursuit, remains nameless.
Or rather, his name is in continual variation, changing as he traverses
the sociopolitical terrainfrom Gustav Metzger in the Peasants War to
Gert-of-the-Well in the Mnster Rebellion and to Ismael-the-Traveller-
of-the-World when he leaves at the close for Istanbul, to note three of
his incarnations. Of his many names, a number are taken from actual
historical figures in the Radical Reformation, whereas others are laced
with wider cultural associations, so augmenting the collective effects of
the name. For instance, Metzger is a clear homage to the stateless expo-
nent of autodestructive art of the same name, and Ismael is no doubt
a nod to the disinherited figure in the Hebrew Bible and the Quran, and
to Herman Melvilles traveler in Moby-Dick.
In suspending the consistent name, the subjective continuity that
would normally orchestrate the narrative field is unsettled, allowing instead
for communal being to come forth as protagonist, in all its discontinuous,
variegated, and antagonistic complexity. This is the abiding experience of
reading the novel, where subject and social relations operate on the same
plane in an often disorienting swirl of forces, relations, and tumultuous
events. The narrative leaps about from the bloody massacres of the Peas-
ants War to the plotting of a banking fraud and the trade flows of early
capitalism, all the whileno doubt with allegorical purposeenmeshed
within, driven by, and testing the limits of assorted apparatus of power
and paradigms of resistance. Yet this narrative of social complexity is
nonetheless populated or enacted by (momentarily) named subjects,
singularities in the communal field of practice. As Ovan argues, with this
function, the name is not an identity in separation from the collective,
or even a momentary share, but the passage of the collective, its putting
into play as singularity.
Q is a novel about mass movements and revolutionary social events,

though I am arguing that its critical intervention on this front is not in rep-
resenting such collective forces or in giving them voice in its content; Qs
experiment lies in its form, in the way the collective, qua multiple single,
takes over the expressive voice, whose impact is found most intensely in
the narratives points of discontinuity and contradiction. For despite initial
appearances, it is not a story of the autonomous movement of the masses
in history but of the constraints, limits, errors, that mass movements face
and fail to face up to. There is irony, then, that Q became something of an
activists bedside book over the arc of the alter-globalization movement,
for its allegorical lesson here was not wholly absorbed, the book provid-
ing the movement with mobilizing images of the victorious masses that
were unencumbered by its more unsettling insight concerning the traps
of direct confrontation with power and the limits of activist subjectivity.
Then again, perhaps those lessons are always hard to hear in the swell of
struggle, in which case Qs allegorical power is more salient to the retreat
of the radical wave; indeed, its authors have described it, and their subse-
quent novels, as lessons in defeat, in how to live in crisis, how, against all
odds, to find ways beyond defeat, where allegory must be seen now not
as an integrating subjective mechanism suturing past and future but as a
fragile and exploratory series of unpredictable rebounds.49
Turning to the character Q, while the many-named protagonist emerg-
es through immanence to social events, the papal agent, by contrast,
exists at an abstraction from the social fieldCarafas eye, as Q is first
introduced, looking in and reporting on, even as his spycraft seeks and
finds direct effects that approximate to the historical record. He features
in the novel in the form of diary entries and letter-reports to Rome that
convey a sparse and solitary subjectivity, driven across the novel by his
facilitation of Carafas nefarious Plan of utilizing the Radical Reforma-
tion to modernize and entrench Church authority. In a sense, keeping with
the epic form, Q and his nemesis are held in a Manichaean struggle, their
different stylescollective/solitary, immanent/abstractbeing expres-
sive of two political orientations and sensibilities that arise from, and put
into play, the same conflictual social field. It is thus all the more poignant
that when Q finally betrays his master, it is to an unnamed constituency
of agentsthe anonymous architects of the Planand the aleatory

forces of the social to which he delivers himself: There is nothing you
can do, he writes to Carafa near the close of the narrative, you cannot
even reproach yourself for your failure to predict the defection of your
finest agent on the last mile: the minds of men move in strange ways, and
no plan can take account of them all.50
While it is Q who sets out for us the established historical terrain of
the story, its named protagonists and factual events, it transpires, then,
that he is no more an identity than his heretic opponent. The point is well
observed by Ovan, quoting these lines from Qs diary: Throughout my
life I have never written one word for myself: there isnt a page from the
past that could compromise the present; there is no trace of my passage.
Not a name, not a word. Only memories that no one would believe, since
they are the memories of a ghost.51 And yet this is no moment of synthesis
and overcoming, where Q would succumb to a nameless multitude as
subject of historical change, for Qs revelation of nonidentity indexes less
the dynamics of resistance than a quality of powerthe unnamed agents
of the conspiratorial Plan, yes, but also the anonymous and impersonal
force that is capital, to whose place in the story I now turn.
Though the first half of Q presents a social field rooted in the swell of
peasant insurgencies and Anabaptist efforts to live heaven on earth, at a
decisive stage this ground is pulled away, as Stewart Home emphasized
in an incisive early review, when direct confrontation between opposing
subjective forces, peasant and state, is substituted with an immanent di-
agnosis, critique, and intervention in the ungrounded ground of emerging
capitalismof money, banking, global trade, and new media.52 From now
on, the banks are the new Antichrist. As the many-named protagonist
declaims, overcome at the point of the novels shift in gear, Why has no
one ever talked to me about banks before?53 We know from Marx that
the subject of the capitalist mode of production is neither the bourgeoisie
nor the proletariat but capital itself, the classes of capitalist and worker
being merely subjective forms born of the conjunction of capital and labor:
The capitalist functions only as personified capital, capital as a person,
just as the worker is no more than labour personified.54 Mass social
movements can of course change history, but they are no less caught up
in these impersonal forces of capital and need to understand themselves

as such. Hence in Qs decisive scene, as the second part of the novel tips
into the third, the multinamed protagonist receives this instruction about
the turn from feudalism to the new world of capital:
We were born in two different worlds, Lot. On the one hand youve got
the lords, the bishops, the princes, the dukes and the peasants. On the
other the merchants, the bankers, the shipowners and clerks....Here
there is no ancient and unjust order to turn upside down, no yokels
to sit on thrones. Theres no need for an apocalypse, because its al-
ready been underway for a while....Eloi pulls out a coin and turns it
round between his hands, throws it in the air and catches it a few times.
You see? You cant topple money: whichever way you turn it, one side
always shows.55
And so, our protagonist has now lost his faith, after the bloody slaughter
of the Peasants War and the mounting evidence that theological positions
and passions are entwined within and conditioned by the machinations of
state power, the maneuverings of the Church, and the leverage of credit
money, rivers of money lent in exchange for a percentage of the prof-
its.56 It is a vertiginous condition, for where to locate the standpoint of
revolution? Now the movement of the multiple single is undecidable, ever
compromised, and without subject or purity of position. In this part of the
book, struggles must take a different form. They are organized primarily
as an attempt to counterfeit the bills of credit of the Fugger family of
mercantile bankers and, as I return to later, the production and distribu-
tion of a seditious and anonymous book, The Benefit of Christ Crucified.
Such struggles are not millenarian, they are not even cumulative, but exist
immanently to social relations as points of singular emergence, disrup-
tion, and dissipation. The communist sensibility of the novel is revealed
less, then, in Qs desertion than in this formulation by Qs nemesis, his
nonidentity indexed to the proletariat as nonsubject:
Details are escaping, the minor shades who populated the story are
slipping away, forgotten. Rogues, mean little clerics, godless outlaws,
policemen, spies. Unmarked graves. Names which mean nothing, but
which have encountered strategies and wars, have made them explode,
sometimes stubbornly, as part of a deliberate struggle, at other times

purely by chance, with a gesture, a word....With each defeat we tested
the strength of the Plan. We lost everything each time, so that we could
stand in its way. Barehanded, with no alternative.57
One would not want formal experiments in expressive communal being to

be without their own points of tension, impasse, and failure. What, then,
are Qs limits? In putting the collective into play through the singular, Qs
many-named protagonist certainly presents a strong, practical critique of
many of the received truths of radical politics; the novel, I have suggested,
is certainly no naive celebration of the masses in history, of the onward
march of the collective. And yet this protagonist has an omniscient ability
to diagnose and critique the problems with these movements, presenting
the reader with a point of identification that is too comfortableif not
an all-knowing subjectivity, then something of an infallible reason of
the revolution, if you will. As the writers of Q later came to reflect on
this quality of their protagonist, it is too easy to be empathetic with him
because even if he makes a mistake he is always on the right side.58 The
omniscient narrator is a bourgeois literary device when in the shape of an
individual character; she is probably also that when figured as a singular
instantiation of communist critique, because a true instantiation of a
multiple single in struggle, one who has no identity as such, neither as
individual nor as collective, must experience the contingency of the social
through impasses and breakdowns in ways that she, and her readers, can
never fully comprehend or articulate.
In more concrete terms, this problem with figuring the collective as
an all-knowing reason of the revolution can be observed in what it omits
or obscures. In this instance, as the authors of the novel were soon made
aware by their readership, the omniscience of the protagonist in his im-
manence to the discontinuous constraints and struggles of the social field
does a violence to that which should necessarily be a central feature of
what he encounters in this field, namely, the social relations of gender. With
women largely a supporting cast for a male adventure, the representation
of gender in Q has rightly become an object of self-criticism.59
Open Reputation
In moving from the novel to the terrain of Qs author, the wider practice
of the multiple name with which the novel was interlaced, the processual
and discontinuous property of the name, becomes considerably more
pronounced. The central feature of this multiple nameas others before
it, from Ned Ludd to Karen Eliotis its disaggregation and dispersal of
the self-identical expressive subject. Although access to the pseudonym
of Luther Blissett was no doubt limited in part by competence in certain
kinds of cultural capital, anyone could in principle adopt the name and
in so doing become Luther Blissett (with a few provisos: efforts would
be made to prevent him from propagating racist, sexist, or fascist mate-
rial). Luther Blissett was an open reputation that conferred a certain
authority and capacity to speakthe authority of the author, no lesson
an open multiplicity of unnamed writers, activists, and cultural workers,
whose work in turn contributed to and extended the open reputation.
In this sense, the author-function is magnified and writ large. But it is
such in breach of the structures that generate a concentrated and unified
point of rarity and authority, because the author becomes a potential
available to anyone, and each manifestation of the name is as original as
any other. In this fashion, a different kind of individuation emerges, the
individuation of the multiple single: Luther Blissett is at once collective, a
co-dividual shared by many, and singular or fragmented, a dividual, an
infinitely divisible entity composed of multiple situations and personalities
simultaneously.60 That Luther Blissett had his own portraita vaguely
androgynous icon created of overlaid male and female photographic
imagesonly confirms this new modality of individuation, invoking the
paradox of a multiple single author (Figure 9).
The subjective disaggregation and dispersal of the author also has
a temporal dimension. The name Luther Blissett was borrowed from
the Jamaican-born British footballer who played an ill-fated season at AC
Milan in 1983, contrary to great expectation. But no explanation is pro-
vided as to the reasons for the adoption of the footballers name. Indeed,
after a fabricated identification of the Luther Blissett multiple name with
the conceptual art practice of one Harry Kipper (a tactic intended to
Figure 9. Luther Blissetts portrait. Reproduced under a Creative Commons

Attribution-ShareAlike 2.5 License.
divert from the start any association of the multiple name with its origi-
nators), the proliferation of origin stories became a part of the multiple
name itself: Anyone who makes use of the name may invent a different
story about the origin of the project.61 Luther Blissett was thus set loose
from the unifying effects of linear temporality and the biographical arc,
allowing history to become a fragmented and multiple resource for each
instantiation of the name.
Enabled by this relation to history, one telling of the Luther Blis-
sett story is especially enticing, projecting as it does the multiple single
structure of a negative heroand something of a zerowork stylist of
sportback into the footballers media image at AC Milan. Our Luther
Blissett writes, Only the blindness of a young fan led me to hate him,
then, for those badly-treated footballs, for he came to recognize that the
footballers erratic performance was in fact a calculated act.62 Sensing in
the interactive and communicative game of football the dynamic structure
of general intellect, the striker revealed himself to 80,000 consumer-
producers as a saboteur of capitalist valorization:
[He] refuse[d] to be an interface in this system. He decided to stop com-

municating, to be a living short-circuit. So he started to move around the
field at random, appearing not to care about the game....He became
invisible, he could not be represented as part of a social system: he was
a drifting mine ready to explode every Sunday in unexpected ways,
with strange gestures which broke the cold normality of the football-
system....Luther, the black bomber, one of us.63
Recall that the concept of the general intellect allows for no autonomy
from capital, that even as Luther Blissetts multiple single is posited as
an overcoming of capitalist relations, it is enmeshed within them. Such
is apparent in this story of the negative hero, which succeeds only insofar
as it is interlaced in the readers mind with the high-value, mediated im-
ages of commercial sport. This intermediated quality took on a further
dimension when the retired footballer was invited onto the U.K. television
program Fantasy Football to read lines from Luther Blissetts manifesto,
where he showed himself to be rather tickled by the multiple name.64 If
this helps allay understandable concerns about the possible racism of the
appropriation without consent of Luther Blissetts name, I would add too
that there were clear antiracist resonances in the adoption of his name in
a national culture riddled with racism.
Just as the multiple name puts into play an expressive communal being
in breach of the author-functions effects of individualization, it unsettles
too the authors twin pole of the unified workthe solid and fundamental
unit of the author and the workwhich here becomes as fragmented,
variable, and layered as the multiple name itself.65 It is in this sense that
we should understand the cultural output of Luther Blissett (at least until
Q ) as less of the order of product than of action (to repeat Foucaults
designations for texts of, respectively, authorial property and unnamed
dissent). Through the skillful orchestration of hoaxes, pranks, and fakes,

Luther Blissetts practice was characterized by scandalous disruption of
mass media across the platforms of television, newspaper, book publish-
ing, radio, and Internethis initial venture was, appropriately, a hoax on
a prime-time missing persons television show.66 This is mass-mediated
culture in its most contemporary manifestation, what we can call the
media expression of general intellect: mass media as the technological
mobilization and fashioning of transindividual moods or affects, as has
become closely associated with the spread of punitive legal instruments
and political regimes of security, albeit that in Luther Blissetts 1990s,
this was manifest in moral panics against Satanic ritual abuse and the
like, before it was succeeded by terrorism and illegal immigration.67
In this media environment, Luther Blissett was less an external agent
operating through an autonomous regime of truth than a practice im-
manent to the technocultural formations of the mediacomprising the
same materials and forms but working through mimicry and exposure of
the medias orchestration of truths and affects. It is a point well made by
Wu Ming 1 while reflecting on one of Luther Blissetts media hoaxes: by
using the tools of traditional counter-inquiries, we had gotten no results.
The homeopathic effect of one single lie cured the illness better than
the traditional media medicines administered to the public opinion.68
Actions rather than products, Luther Blissetts interventions also
challenged the specifically commodity form of the book. If no one person
or group owns the name of Luther Blissett, the name owns none of its
output, which, in keeping with the approach to a primary plagiarism of
collective cultural production, was protected from the encroachment of
property by anticopyright mechanisms. In a more offensive move, Luther
Blissett also impinged on the copyright of others. In one case, he pub-
lished a book under the name of the popular anarchist writer Hakim Bey,
a book comprising a slapdash mix of old Bey writings, fabricated texts, and
speeches by Stalin attributed to Bey.69 The book was greetedhere is the
power of the author-functionwith praise from leftist reviewers, until the
prank was revealed and the publisher threatened, in a most un-anarchist
fashion, to sue for copyright violation. Luther Blissetts move to the form
of the novel complicates matters, for Q is a recognizable commodity (with
international distribution and sales of upward of 250,000 units). But this

book was soon made available for free download and circulation, a very
early instance of this now not uncommon practice; in its published form,
Q at least indicates and allows for circuits of distribution not immediately
constrained by commercial exchange. Clearly Luther Blissetts communist
composition is considerably more complex than could be assessed with a
judgment on how free is his textual product. The crucial question of open
access publishing is not one I pursue in Anti-Book. But let me side with
those, notably Gary Hall, who argue that today, as open access becomes
a plank of the metrics-led marketization of research in neoliberal govern-
ment and commercial agendas, free access, though an important political
terrain, is not in itself enough to constitute radical media formations.70
As a particular expression of the multiple single that wells up in and
against identity, Luther Blissetts name, like the names in Q , was not
destined to endure. Modeled according to a Five Year Plan, at the end
of 1999, many of his Italian founders abandoned the name, committing
seppuku, or ritual suicide. As always, others remain free to propagate
Luther Blissetts open reputation, but this act of the veterans of the
multiple name was a means against habit of returning to the generative
basin of communal being: [seppuku] is one way like another to get rid
once again of an identity, to be reborn open to new experiences of social
warfare and new mad passions.71 This subtraction of the veterans from
the uncontrollable golem of Luther Blissett simultaneously clears room
for the development of his potential new styles, or those of other multiple
names, where seppuku is an articulation of the decidedly non-Soviet
impetus of his Five Year Plan; Luther Blissetts Bolognese founders later
described themselves as the only central committee whose aim is to lose
control of the party.72
The Benefit of Christ Crucified
The second epigraph to this chapter, taken from Anon., Virginia Woolfs
haunting late meditation on anonymous expression, draws attention to
the relationship between anonymity and forms of textual inscription and
reproduction. Reprising some of our concerns with anonymous authorship,
Woolf here locates creative expression not in a self-present subject, and

in the correlated separation of a creative subject from an audience, but
in a foundational, transindividual anonymity:
The voice that broke the silence of the forest was the voice of Anon.
Some one heard the song and remembered it for it was later written
down, beautifully, on parchment. Thus the singer had his audience, but
the audience was so little interested in his name that he never thought
to give it. The audience was itself the singer.73
Having broached the question of inscription here, Woolf sees little to cham-
pion in the textual mediation of anonymity. To Anon., print is a destructive
medium. Printed books can record the past existence of anonymous texts
in published works of fablethey can preserve anonymitybut they
cannot create it. Anon., then, is a lament to the loss of anonymity. Woolf
is not wrong; under the dominance of the author-function, most creative
textual media abhor anonymity. But as we have seen, this is not the whole
picture. Thankfully, printed and now digital media can also sustain and
engender anonymous authorship, shifting our appreciation of anonymity
from a foundational, premediated condition to a wholly mediated mode
of expression, one that is often lodged, indeed, in the leading edge of
such mediation. Luther Blissett was born of the Internet; his founders
were early adopters of international bulletin boards such as FidoNet and
describe their work and modus operandi as having been shaped by the
Internet.74 We are obliged to ask, then, why did Q take the apparently
backward media form of the printed codex, and why did the narrative
feature a book? As a book within a book, and one with uncertain authorial
provenance at that, we can expect The Benefit of Christ Crucified to have
allegorical value, an expectation that is only heightened when it is recalled
that in Qs sixteenth-century setting, the printed booklike the Internet
in Luther Blissetts late 1990swas a new media form.
Q invests the cultures and forms of mechanical printing with consid-
erable political significance. In the early parts of the novel, the printed
word is a veritable agent of the Radical Reformation, where books are
projectiles fired in all directions by the most powerful of cannons, plat-
forms for sending messages and incitements further and faster to reach
the brethren, who have sprung up like mushrooms in every corner of the
country.75 And it is not only books. The pamphlet has its place here, a
medium of low-cost and often anonymous writing that was common to
the Reformation, and at one point the unnamed protagonist invents the
flier, or Flugbltter, a by-product of paper wastage in the printing process,
which becomes for some peasants their first encounter with the printed
word. There is undoubtedly much veracity in this account of the reach
and politicizing capacities of early print media, but the first parts of Q
play heavily on bourgeois tropes of the democratizing power of informa-
tion, tropes about which Luther Blissett had some ambivalence. Hence
the picture becomes more complicated in the third part of the book, in
keeping with the shift in focus from revolutionary peasant subjectivity
to the internecine world of capital. The Benefit of Christ Crucified, which
plays a pivotal role in part three, is not the Word of the revolution. If
the allegorical value of this book is in drawing attention to the political
dimensions of media, it is less to do with the democratizing effects of the
broad and speedy distribution of textual content than with displacing and
unsettling the perceived value of such, in favor of critical appreciation of
the sociomaterial relations and capacities of media form. Let me consider
these points in more detail.
Along with his loss of faith, Qs nameless protagonist soon develops
circumspection about Lutheran formulations of the purity of the Word.76
The radical Anabaptist wing of the Reformation is by turn condemned
for a similar fixation:
Your vision of the struggle made you divide the world into black and
white, Christians and non-Christians....That kind of vision will help
you win a just battle, but it isnt enough to realize the freedom of the
spirit. On the contrary, it can construct new prisons in the soul, new
morals, new courts....The only disagreement between a pope and a
prophet lies in the fact that they are fighting over the monopoly of truth,
of the Word of God.77
The point is made most dramatically with a scene of book burning, as

the Mnster Anabaptist commune goes awry: An obscene altar raised to
oblivion, the Word of God erasing that of men, spewing forth its triumph
over our bent backs, burying our eyes beneath an impenetrable blanket
of smoke.78
If not primarily a question of content, then, the political dimensions of
The Benefitthis small book, handy, clearly written, fits in a pocket
lie in its textual materialities, in its social and economic forms, relations,
and effects. It is an orientation toward text that is condemned in Lutheran
formulations, where, as I noted in chapter 3, the Word must transcend
the fallen materiality of its platform.79 As if to confirm this focus on ma-
teriality against the Word, we are told that the content of The Benefit is
rather mundane, it is a mediocre book (insofar as The Benefit presents
the reader with a critical double to Q itself, this is an amusing comment
on the literary significance of the latter text).80 It transpires to be the work
of a moderate Catholic, a book whose watered-down Calvinism seeks
rapprochement with Lutheran theology by making justification through
faith alone compatible with Church doctrinecontent that is objection-
able to the Inquisition and papal rectitude, certainly, but it is hardly on
the order of Thomas Mntzers cry of Omnia sunt communia, everything
in common. The politics of the book lie, rather, in a plot to sew discord
amid the dominant powers, to unsettle and contain the advance of the
Inquisition by attracting numbers of moderates to its thesis. If it is a cun-
ning little book, this should hence be understood in terms of its seditious
relations rather than its identity as a work and thus has little to do with
authorial intent.81 While Carafas agent, Q, seeks to discover and impose
authorial responsibility for this anonymous text, somewhat in the manner
of the feudal author-function in prosecuting literary transgression, in the
unfurling of the plot the author has little significance. Instead, the scandal
is nested in the books relations of clandestine production, distribution,
and reception, arenas from which authors make way for printers, financ-
ers, publishers, itinerant booksellers, smugglers of the printed word, and
affluent men of letters (where these latter, who would usually be accorded
significance in literary history, are merely useful idiots: It doesnt
matter a damn that they dont know what theyre talking about, whats
important is that they go on talking about it).82
Qs turn to the materialities of text is not, however, to accord them
the purity of cause previously reserved for the Word. Just as the Word
here has no purity, no less innocent are the objects, networks, and rela-
tions through which the scandal unfurls. Granted, there are lapses. Qs
dramatic book-burning scene of the triumph of the Word of God has sound
historical backingensuring the purity of the Word through the burning
of opposing books was common to all sides in the Reformation. But this
scene trades rather heavily on the trope of the book as singular agent of
reason and enlightenment that is so central to the self-representation of
bourgeois culture. Notwithstanding the weight of association between
the burning of books and Nazi anti-Semitism, Luther Blissett may have
missed an opportunity here in his deployment of Gustav Metzger. For
Metzgers autodestructive art, with its critical handling of industrial
capitalisms obsession with destruction, the pummeling to which in-
dividuals and masses are subjected, appears to have allowed for book
burning, having included in his 1996 Destruction in Art Symposium one
of John Lathams Skoob Tower book-incendiary ceremonies.83 None-
theless, it is clear that the plot of The Benefit, ultimately unsuccessful, is
made on ambivalent terrain; this book, as the other books that circulate
in the novel, features first and foremost as a commodity, a commercial op-
portunity for merchant capital. And so the itinerant bookseller who first
enrolls the many-named protagonist in the life of The Benefit outlines its
critical intent and formal innovation in the same breath that he appeals
to its potential market valueeven suggesting a certain codetermination
between the two. No one likes frontal attacks, hair-splitting arguments,
accusations any more. Heterogeneity in literary form and uncertainty
of authorship are the taste of the day. The content of The Benefit is fine
for bores, but it is written by a Catholic friar: Thats a scandal, dont
you see? And scandals mean thousands of copies.84
The playful self-critique of Qs formal innovations that is implicit in
this quotation reminds us that The Benefit is in critical interplay with Q
itself. Therefore, my discussion of The Benefit serves to illustrate some of
the formal interventions of Q as a printed book, though not in a way that
aggrandizes or elevates the latter. Q emerges from association with the
qualities and contours of its fictional double not as a great literary work,
an avant-garde masterpiece, but as a minor critical intervention in the
materialities of textin the authorship, authority, and commodity form
of publishinga masterpiece of dissimulation and a mediocre book in

one.85 And its techniques carry no assurance of continued critical effect. It
might be an allegorical warning of the ambivalence of such interventions
in media form that the papal agent Q considers the possibility that The
Benefit could serve as a net to capture those cardinals who looked favor-
ably on the reformers: A book passing from hand to hand, from library to
library and contaminating everyone who touches it. And when you haul
in the net, you get all the big fish all in one go.86
Still, I have not yet directly addressed the reasons why Q took the
particular form of the printed book. Almost without exception, reviewers
of Q pointed to its allegorical exchange with emerging Internet culture,
but in a way that substituted allegory with clich, namely, the common
story of a comparable experience of transformation in the mass repro-
duction and democratic dissemination of texts, a sloppy association that
reduces the singular characteristics of these different media forms and
contexts to a relation of resemblance.87 Against this, I have suggested that
the allegorical value of Q is actually in challenging the myths of Internet
technophiliathe liberatory power of the unfettered word, the intrinsic
democratic effects of the mass reproduction of textand in developing
a feeling for the particular and complex materialities of media, not least
of which are relations of the commodity. In this lies one explanation
for Qs adoption of the medium of the book. The allegorical relation is
founded on the difference of the printed codex from digital media. Its brute
physicality, apparently outmoded quality, and particular sensory forms,
when inserted into a political milieu associated with digital and online
media, have a jarring or estranging effect that opens a susceptibility to
the themes we have been observingit is a countersomnambulism, to
speak like Marshall McLuhan.88 Put otherwise, the adoption of the co-
dex displays something like an early post-digital feeling for this medium,
whereby the printed book retains its particular medial qualities while
developing new capacities and effects in a media sphere transformed
by digital technology. As much as Qs allegorical story pertains to our
experience of the Internet, it also concerns, then, our experience of the
post-digital book.
Reena Spaulings Meets Michle Bernstein
Pursuit of pseudonymous authorship through the form of the novel is a

feature too of Bernadette Corporations Reena Spaulings. Published five
years after Q , the author of this novel is also a collective pseudonym,
just as anonymity or impersonality is a dominant theme of its content.
Again, we encounter a book within a book, or the construction of a book
through a resonance with another book. The serial translation of this latter
book, Michle Bernsteins 1961 novel Tous les chevaux du roi, published
as All the Kings Horses in pamphlet form one chapter at a time, doubled
as a gallery program for Reena Spaulings Fine Art, which shared the fic-
tional name of the protagonist of Bernadette Corporations novel. John
Kelsey, of Bernadette Corporation, describes his translation as a slapdash
affair, based on source text that was a photocopy of a photocopy of the
original edition, so lending the endeavor an aura of samizdat publishing,
befitting the nonprofessional nature of the gallery. And its serial publica-
tion had a particular purpose, as the gallery sought to create a line in
time that would cross through the various, fleeting exhibitions, some of
which were installed and deinstalled in a single afternoon, and in a highly
improvised manner, the pamphlets providing linear progression to an
otherwise more chaotic entity.89 As such, the novel might have served
as a conservative force, but the narrative coherence it offered was loose
and episodic, and it operated, moreover, to draw proximities between the
dissimulation of Bernsteins narrated world and that of Reena Spaulings,
less grounding than fictionalizing the gallery, which, as Kelsey suggests,
was also a sort of fiction, operated by several people under a made-up
name, without a business plan or any prior experience in dealing art.90
Bernsteins novel, set in spring 1957, shortly before the founding of
the Situationist International (SI), is itself a fictionalization of a social
entity, that of daily life with her comrade and husband, Guy Debord. It
is a dispassionate drift through Parisian literary and artistic circles and
the sexual liaisons and strategies of their open marriage, interlaced with
occasional allusions to the politico-aesthetic orientations of their Lettriste
milieu. Of the latter, one exchangebetween the characters Carole, Gilles,
and the narrator Genevivestands out for its reference to the practice of
the drive (and for the fact that it later achieved notoriety when adopted
in The Return of the Durutti Column, the 1966 comic strip flier by Andr
Bertrand that promoted the SI pamphlet On the Poverty of Student Life).
Carole asks Gilles:
What are you working on, exactly? I have no idea,

Reification, he answered.
Its an important job, I added.
Yes, it is, he said.
I see, Carole observed with admiration. Serious work, at a huge
desk cluttered with thick books and papers.
No, said Gilles. I walk. Mainly I walk.91
The pleasures of recognition that this passage offers are such that it is
invariably cited by commentators on the book and is prominent in the back
cover promotional text of the Semiotext(e) edition. But the identity-effect,
on the reader and the SI, of such recognition is otherwise an object of
Bernsteins more subversive practice. As Kelly Baum describes the novels
dissimulating effect on character, identity is consistently figured as an act
of bad faith, the self as indulgent and polymorphous, flexible, contin-
gent, and highly performative, and while there is some emotion at stake in
the narrative, desire here is instrumentalized and deflated, testing hetero-
normativity, and the limits of sexual liberation, if by no means scrambling
their coordinates entirely.92 As for its subversive impact on the Situationist
scene, it is instructive to reflect a little on the set of contrasts Bernsteins
novelwhose writing and publication is broadly contemporaneous with
Debords Mmoirespresents with Situationist theory and textual practice.
Like Mmoires, All the Kings Horses is a dtournement, a dtournement of the
form of the novel that makes use of the redundancy of that form, deploy-
ing all the clichs of the then fashionable fiction of the young, beautiful,
and free-wheeling and the broader culture of lifestyle publishing. And yet,
unlike Mmoires, it is also a product of Bernsteins paid labor, or at least
of a wager that it might generate income, as indeed it did. She explains,
I was still a member of the lumpensecretariat, working for tuppence

hapenny at a humdrum publishing house. Guy Debord, naturally, wasnt
working. The journal of the Situationist International sold five or six cop-
ies, and we sent the rest to people we found interesting....
So, to make ends meet, to earn our bread and butter, I decided to
write a novel....At that time the situationists, including myself, had an
ironclad belief that the classic novel was past its sell-by-date. It had to
be surpassed, overturned, exploded. Why not? Because in this case, no
editor: no dough. The solution was simple: I would fabricate a fake
popular novel. Load it with sufficient clues and irony so the moderately
observant reader would realise that they were dealing with some kind of
a joke, the steely gaze of a true libertine, a critique of the novel itself.93
All the Kings Horses has been largely put aside in the reception of the
SI as an insignificant work, no doubt in part because of its commercial
impetus. Yet it is this quality, that of a hack work, wherein Bernadette
Corporation found its appeal:
We had heard that Bernstein quickly disowned her own novels as minor
commercial ventures, as not serious (in comparison to her husband Guy
Debords theoretical texts, for example), but this was exactly what inter-
ested us: writing under the sign of commerce, but also disowned writing.
What can we make of a text that insists on both its own commercialism
and its refusal of authorship?94
What can we make of it? As implied already, All the Kings Horses shows
Debords refusal to take a jobframed as a decidedly avant-gardist gesture
in his early Left Bank graffiti Ne travaillez jamais (Never work) but
otherwise not unappealingin a less than favorable light, for it is now
revealed to have been achieved in part on the back of the labor of his wife.95
More broadly, this text, contaminated by commerce and fictionalizing
Bernsteins life with Debord and comrades as if it were a breezy but jaded
romance for teenaged girls, troubles the decidedly heroic and masculine
pose of her avant-garde milieu and its theory of action.96 Indeed, the books
dtournement might exactly be operating on this register: not only a joke
on fashionable youth fiction but, as Debord, Jorn, and others emerge as
flimsy parodies in the style of a Gossip Girl paperback, it may also be
an ironic dtournement of the SI itself, as Kelsey puts it, a glamoriza-
tion and a critique of the very milieu [Bernstein] was participating in.97
A self-critique of the heroism of the SI and its theory, perhaps it is only
in fiction that this could have emerged, for fiction, as Bernadette Corpo-
ration has it, is an especially suitable vehicle for such acts of distancing
and critique, a means of disidentification, of putting oneself and ones
problems at a distance, of getting rid of oneself.98
In their own novel, Reena Spaulings, this getting rid of oneself is
developed in critical exchange with one of the novels protagonists, New
York Cityor New York City as imagined against the patriotic ghost of
the city installed after 9/11, imagined, like Bernsteins Paris, as a means
of rewriting and reinhabiting the city itself.99 To draw a thread to my
earlier discussion, this city plays a role not dissimilar to Luther Blissetts
communal being, at once the condition and the product of the writing:
Like its authors, the New York City depicted herein finds itself constantly
exposed to the urges of communismthat is, to a chosen indifference
to private property, a putting-in-common of the methods and means of
urban life and language.100 The exposure to communism here takes the
dual form of a certain plenitude and (as I turn to later on) an absolute
evacuation. If authorship is to be adequate to the fractal quality of the city,
the city necessitates the plenitude, the putting-in-common, of collective
and unnamed composition: If you look at a city, theres no way to see it.
One person can never see a city. You miss it, hate it, or realize that its
taken something from you, but you cant go somewhere and look at it and
just see it empirically. Its an everyday group hallucination. This novel is
modelled on that phenomenon.101 And so, to compose the novel, as the
preface informs, apparently 150 professional and amateur writers came
together in the model of the Hollywood studio system, each assigned
specific functions within the overall scheme.102
As to its content, Bernadette Corporation describes Reena Spaulings
as a novel of images, a book written by images, about images, to be read
by other images.103 The description recalls Henri Bergson, for whom
matter is an aggregate of images, the image being an existence placed
halfway between the thing and the representation, neither reducible to
the sense impressions it creates in the mind nor being wholly independent
of mind, entirely different from what we perceive of it.104 In this respect,
New York City comes on the stage of the novel as Bergsons universe
of universal becoming, the perpetual interaction of images, without

cause or effect, without beginning or end.105 But we encounter it through
a second protagonist, a young woman named Reena Spaulings, who
serves as an image to perceive the citys universe of images. For Bergson,
the universe of interacting images is encountered through perception
reaction circuits that break the infinite play of interaction by reordering
the images according to the utility of a subject, a delimiting effect:
To the degree that my horizon widens, the images which surround me seem
to be painted upon a more uniform background and become to me more
indifferent. The more I narrow this horizon, the more the objects which it
circumscribes space themselves out distinctly according to the greater or
lesser ease with which my body can touch and move them. They send back,
then, to my body, as would a mirror, its eventual influence; they take rank
in an order corresponding to the growing or decreasing powers of my body.
The objects which surround my body reflect its possible action upon them.106
But this is not the only story, for memory, the past collection of images,
offers the possibility that a rift, a zone of indetermination, is inserted
between perception and reaction to allow other images to seep in and
unsettle that circuit of subjective utility, opening to other, less automatic
or more desubjectified relations to images.107 And it is this that is Reena
Spaulingss promise and potential, her communism. If the impossibility of
grasping the city necessitates collective authorship, the disidentification
of writers, such techniques of writing undo Reena Spaulings, who, no
longer spanned by any authors mind, loses her subjective coherence as
a character to the interactions of the city, or she may do.108 Granted, the
perceptionreaction circuits of New York City are orchestrated by capital
in self-entrepreneurial and individuating apparatus: Buy a Dyptique
candle for the bathroom. Moisturizer, bananas, toilet paper. Walking in
this city is more like work on the way home from work.109 And yet there
may be a walking that would be more like giving it all away.110 At mo-
ments New York City comes to Reena Spaulings like Clarissa Dalloway
drifting through Londons West End, becoming imperceptible as a subject
as the universe of interactionsthe impressions, sensations, varying
magnitudes, colors of the cityare extended through her and she in turn
extends them, beyond the perceptionreaction circuit of subjectivation.

The city sucks her up and grows through her. In the spine, in the brain,
in the guts, walking in the wavelengths of color beyond color.111 Im
addicted, says Reena, to maximum exposure and maximum identi-
fication with whatever touches me, a conspiracy involving myself and
everything.112 What if nothing belonged to anybody?113
If the idiom here borrows from Bergson and Woolf, the books prox-
imity to Bernsteins novel leaves little doubt that it does so also as an
inflection of the Situationist drive. In this context, especially, it is striking
that Reena Spaulings is no avatar of radical subjectivity but absolutely
generic, a woman of our mass-mediated time, evacuated of any particular
qualitiesBernsteins influence again. How is she? Young and ugly and
beautiful. All-in-one vehicle. A sponge, a vacuum, she could be just
about anybody.114 Reena Spaulings is a security guard at the Metropolitan
Museum of Art become star underwear model. With her, writing under
the sign of commerce has become a world only of commercethis is also
capitalism of the image:
Why is it that when you do so little for it, no amount of recompense is
enough. Holy shit this is six months worth of standing guard at the Met.
I just think that when youre serving time for it, a sense of reality allows
the dollar amount to remain small and still seem OK, to trickle in at the
same pace as the hours do, whereas when youre selling nothing youre
selling an essence which is priceless. Why is it that essences are so light?
Holy shit its my economy, an economy of essences.115
In an economy of images, work and leisure have reached indistinction: Is

there a dream of ongoing creativity directly connected to, inclusive of all
your activitieslike dancing, writing, bleeding, social obligations? Are
there priorities? If there is no designated leisure time, but everything is
work, even non-work becomes work.116 It seems that Marxs communist
vision of variable activity delinked from identity has been colonized.117
Reena Spaulings suggests that communism instead is a kind of inaction
here is the evacuation I signaled earlier. Communism does not appear
to be emerging in any concrete sense, certainly not as an active subject. It
is only glimpsed as the negative of capital, perceived in the most capital-
ized subjectsthe undecidability of Reena Spaulingss boredom, her
immanence to the images of the city, a state of grace providing zero

payoff. Communism, [New York City] seems to say, is the only thing
we share today, besides our extreme separation.118
By definition, such undecidability presents no guarantees. Indeed,
Bernadette Corporation might be as revealing of new tendencies in our
contemporary separation as they are of resistance to them. Anonymity
is not an inviolate communist tactic. It has always had a certain cachet
for the avant-garde individual, but it now has broader appeal, lending a
functional quality to the self-entrepreneurialism of the neoliberal culture
industry. The point is acutely made in a recent upbraiding of Bernadette
Corporations John Kelsey, which took the form of an illicit appropria-
tion, pornographic doctoring, and online distribution of Kelsey texts
in a PDF called Monsieur Roubignoles presents The Kelsey Collection
Artforum 20042012. While Kelseys scene looks very much like com-
munist anonymity, this anonymous critique found Kelseys cultivated
personal anonymity to be a mechanism of self-marketing.119 Here the
ultraleft artist, in the manner of a brand, looses himself to emerge as a
robust constellation of parts. It is an instance of what Kelseys assailants
call the advertised personality, whereby the artist is all the more able
to accrue reputation and hence brand value the less his personality is tied
to any one particular quality:
Interested in the way the reticence of our subject in his personal behavior
(in essence, who he was) paired with the verve of his branded personaas a
prolific member of the artworlds enfant terrible collective Bernadette Cor-
poration, as well an athletic collector of associations with subcultural signi-
fiers via his gallery (Reena Spaulings Fine Art), writings, and flirtations
with the far leftwe hypothesized that the two were indelibly connected.
When one was redeemedthe other was near at hand, and vice versa.120
Invisible, Ephemeral, Historical:

Anonymity and the Party
A good deal of Bernadette Corporations development of the theme of

anonymity arises from engagement with the French journal Tiqqun (1999
2001), including the Invisible Committees book The Coming Insurrection
(an anonymous body of text for which Tiqqun can stand as the collective
name). The biography of The Coming Insurrection, first published in 2007
and in English in 2009, illustrates a renewed mobilization of the author-
function by penal law, in the mode of security measures against a catch-all
terrorism. For it was a principal piece of evidence in the case of the
Tarnac 9, the high-profile arrest in November 2008 of a group associated
with Tiqqun, then living in a communal farmhouse, accused of a relatively
minor act of sabotage on the French railway.121 The emphasis in Tiqqun
and The Coming Insurrection on legal infraction must have encouraged
some awareness of the tactical value of anonymity, but anonymity arises
here in relation to the problem of identification more broadly conceived,
including the individuating apparatus at play in textual media.
As the French state in its prosecution of the Tarnac 9 disregarded
the authorial anonymity of The Coming Insurrection, Fox Newss ever
exercised Glenn Beck was unhindered by its claims (as I will come to in
due course) to decenter the authority of the medium of the book, repeat-
edly returning to The Coming Insurrection as the root, agent, and program
of any number of leftist, liberal, and world historical outrages. It was a
strange turn of affairs, with the trope of the total book alive and well
in the mass medium of right-wing televisual talkpart knowing neocon
entertainment, part delusional paranoia. Not that Tiqqun needed this
publicity, for its theses struck a chord with radical milieu in the wake of the
alter-globalization movement and the move into economic crisis, especially
in the 2009 California student struggles and elements of Occupy.122 These
political scenes were served in part by Semiotext(e), which published The
Coming Insurrection, three books of texts taken from the Tiqqun journal,
and the Invisible Committees sequel, To Our Friends, though unlike the
little black books of Semiotext(e)s early Foreign Agents series, these
volumes have a rather tame and establishment feel, at least when placed
against the welter of small press and no-press translations and editions that
compose the broader English-language reception of Tiqqun. It is a media
field that elects Tiqqun as one of the first born-post-digital phenomena in
communist publishing, with print, online, and e-pub versions interlaced
it includes, for example, PDFs designed for self-printing as pamphlets
rather than online reading, a specialism of the Zine Library forum, and a
print edition in English of Tiqqun 1 in the form of a facsimile translation.
As I indicated, if Tiqqun has a principium individuationis, it is a politics

of anonymity and desubjectification launched against the constraint and
isolation of imposed identity, a situation where personalization feels a
lot more like an amputation.123 I trust that something of the orientation
and style can be conveyed with a brief quotation, from the Tiqqun text
How Is It to Be Done?
The experience of my desubjectivization. I become

a whatever singularity. Some play opens up between
my presence and the whole apparatus of qualities
that are ordinarily attached to me....
All that isolates me as a subject, as a body endowed
with a public configuration of attributes, I feel it
Founder.
.......
I need to become anonymous. In order to be present.
The more I am anonymous, the more I am present.
I need zones of indistinction.
In order to reach the Common.124
Rather than pursue this construction of anonymity in itself, I intend

here to step from Tiqqun and consider the articulation of anonymous
authorship with the communist formulation of the party. My prompt
is Tiqquns notion of the imaginary party, which appears in various
guises in their texts, including in the subtitles of the two issues of the
journal: Conscious Organ of the Imaginary Party and, in number two,
Organ of Liaison within the Imaginary Party. This relatively high-profile
articulation of the notion of the party notwithstanding, returning to this
theme today will prompt some surprise with more circumspect readers.
Has the communist party not been long proven a dead end? Surely, in an
age of networks and disaggregated labor, this organizational model is an
anachronism? I am certainly not interested in reviving the theory of the
party associated with Lenin, Trotsky, or Maothat is, the party as state-
form (whether in waiting or in power), as obscure sect, or as mechanism
of churn in bureaucratic echelons. Indeed, I am not seeking any kind of
revival, or even making the case for a particular model of organization.
I touch on the organization question, but my purpose, instead, is to con-

sider the party as a field of anonymous textual expression and to draw
out a set of additional qualities in communist writing with which such
anonymity is articulated, qualities that circulate around the problematiza-
tion of textual authority and certainty, antididacticism, and an immanent
but critical relation to struggles (which are notspoiler alertqualities
I find in abundance in Tiqqun).
The word tiqqun, Hebrew for salvation, lends pseudonymous at-
tribution to a body of texts, but it has other functions and domains of ap-
plication. As the translators of one of the Semiotext(e) editions describes
it, Tiqqun can refer to an anonymous collective, the journal in which
these texts appeared, a subjective process, or to the historical process to
which these same texts bear witness.125 One effect of this construction is
the substitution of the authorial voice with that that of the social, a books
contributors becoming merely scribes of a situation, as is apparent in
the opening of The Coming Insurrection:
This book is signed in the name of an imaginary collective. Its contributors

are not its authors. They were content merely to introduce a little order
into the common-places of our time, collecting some of the murmurings
around barroom tables and behind closed bedroom doors....Theyve
made themselves scribes of the situation....Its enough just to say what
is before our eyes and not to shrink from the conclusions.126
This is a textual trick, certainly. It may well serve to arrogate the per-
suasive weight that comes with mass phenomena to an otherwise idio-
syncratic standpoint, and so intensify rather than diminish the authority
of the author, who is all the more able to pass himself off as a univer-
sal in being unnamed as a particular. I assess that possibility later. But
it also suggests more productive moves, which I pursue here initially
through Marx.
While Marx was disinclined to adopt anonymous authorship as a com-
munist value in its own right, one of his unsigned texts places anonymity
at the heart of the history of communist writing, where it presents the
possibility of developing a communist anonymity in relation to the theme
of the party. In the first edition of The Manifesto of the Communist Party,
the most famous and widely read of all Marxs works, you would look in
vain for attribution to its authors.127 Commissioned by the Communist
League, the recently founded organization of migr radicals in London,
what little accreditation it has only appears in the preamble, and then
in a way that is decidedly noncommittal. Toward the goal of meeting
the bourgeois Spectre of Communism with a manifesto of the party
itself, the preamble informs that Communists of various nationalities
have assembled in London, and sketched the following manifesto, to be
published in the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish
languages.128 This apparently casual sentence belies the considerable com-
plexities and ramifications of the texts authorship. But before proceeding
to consider these, let me reflect for a moment on why I am engaging with
a manifesto, given the critique I made of this textual form in chapter 1.
While I am developing the theme of anonymity here from a manifesto, I
do so by shifting from the manifesto qualities of Marx and Engelss text,
which it seems critics cannot but remark upon, to the textual qualities of
the party form that its content evokes, which are much less commonly
considered (the partys marginal nature in discussions of this text seem-
ingly confirmed by the fact that that it has largely dropped out of the title
of this work, which is usually printed as the Communist Manifesto).129 In
thus decentering the manifesto structure of this work, my exploration
of anonymity and the party also leads into other nonmanifesto textual
forms and mediumsletters, journals, textual fragmentsand some
indication that these forms have particular salience for the construction
of anonymity and the party.
If one was inclined to diminish the significance of the Manifestos ano-
nymity, it could be accounted for by the convention of group attribution for
a collective statement of principle, with Marx and Engels writing on behalf
of the Communist League. That is partly true, though the Communist
League is not mentioned by name. But the Manifestos authorial anonymity
is not best understood as a means of substituting the proprietorial voice
of individual authors with that of a group. Certainly the Manifesto was
commissioned and published by a communist organization, but it was not
to be the exclusive preserve of that organization nor a textual mirror to
consolidate its identity and promote its leadership role. On the contrary,
the texts anonymity served to decenter the role of its commissioning

organization as much as it did the role of its authors and, instead, to place
the text immanently to the anti-identitarian terrain of the party.
To understand the nature of this party, before moving to develop the
ramifications of anonymity therein, we can start a little while after the
Manifesto and the dissolution of the Communist League, with Marxs
reflections on the theme in an 1860 letter to Ferdinand Freiligrath. Here
Marx challenges the notion that his noninvolvement in political orga-
nization during the unfavorable conditions of the 1850s was the result
of doctrinaire indifference, and in so doing he indicates a twofold
analytic of the party: the party in an ephemeral sense and in a broad
historical sense.130 The ephemeral party or formal party (I will use the
latter, Bordigas rendering of Marxs term) is any particular communist
organization situated in time and space, an organizational articulation of
specific conjunctures.131 And the historical party, of which the former is
simply an episode, is the set of conflicts and struggles that are immanent
to the social relations of capital as a whole, throughout timefor capital
is inherently antagonisticand in any one time; the historical party is
that which is everywhere springing up naturally out of the soil of modern
society.132 As such, it is not historical in the sense of determination by
the past; quite the reverse, the historical party is that which leans into the
future, it has an evental quality, immanent to the mutating and antagonistic
limits of capitalist social relations.
The two modes of the party intersectone is an organizational articu-
lation, concentration, and, potentially, extension of the otherbut they
have different qualities and effects. The first point to stress in delineating
their specific qualities is that the historical party is not a cumulative com-
posite of formal parties, and neither does it designate a linear historical
thread through select communist organizations (such that the Communist
League, for example, has no privileged role; as an episode of the historical
party, it is only one of a hundred other societies).133 Indeed, there is
considerable theoretical basis for arguing that the historical party plays a
disruptive role in formal organizations.
We can develop this point about the historical party through Marxs
earlier comments on the party in the Manifesto, this time formulated
in a period of upswing in struggles, the revolutions of 1848 just around
the corner. Though the concept of the party developed in the Manifesto
seeks to forward certain modes of thought and associationnotably,
internationalism and the critique of capitalit is not a concentrative
entity but a distributed one: The Communists do not form a separate
party opposed to other working-class parties./They have no interests
separate and apart from those of the proletariat as a whole./They do
not set up any sectarian principles of their own, by which to shape and
mould the proletarian movement.134 The party is stretched across the
social, dependent on social forces and struggles for its existence or its
substancethe proletariat as a wholeand, in an anticipatory and
precarious fashion, oriented toward social contingencies and events. As
Badiou puts it (albeit for rather different purposes to mine), it is not only
the case that for the Marx of 1848, that which is named party has no
form of bond even in the institutional sense. More than this, there is here
a positive stipulation of the partys evental quality: the real characteristic
of the party is not its firmness, but its porosity to the event, its dispersive
flexibility in the face of unforeseeable circumstances.135 Rancire sheds
light on this too. Given the precarious and anticipatory orientation of the
party, there is considerable insight in his thesis that Marxs partyfor
all its universality, or because of it, its opening to the becoming of social
relations, the nonidentity of the proletariatis directed not toward unity
but toward division that first of all the purpose of a party is not to unite
but divide.136
How does this party as evental division relate to the theme of or-
ganization, the theme of the formal party? In moments of uprising and
revolution, the party names those organizations that play the necessary
role of organization and coordination, pushing toward revolutionary
rupture as it cleaves its way through organizations based on sectional
interests, developing forms of coordination that undo the distinctions
and identities through which such sectional organizations stand against
revolutionary change.137 In other words, the formal party plays the role of
evental division outlined in the Manifesto, but in organizational terms. In
less favorable conditions, however, the features of the formal party can
be rather different. In these conditions, formal organizations provide a
certain affective solace and institutional memoryif only of impasses and
failures to be overcomethat can be put back into play and contestation
in a new upswing. But in such periods of abeyance, formal parties also

have a reactionary tendency to direct efforts and resources toward main-
taining their organizational identity against a now hostile environment,
substituting this for diffuse struggle as the object of communist politics or
arrogating such struggle to the project of the partys endurance. We should
register here the significance of context to Marxs letter to Freiligrath.
For his concept of the formal party is at least in part an articulation in
theory of his practical withdrawal from such parties, from meddling with
associations which had now had their day. It is a concept that seeks to
prevent identification of the party with such limited organizational entities
and, perhaps, with organizational questions only, rather than questions
concerning the antagonistic content of capitalist daily life (hence his
remark about the historical party springing up naturally out of the soil
of modern society, something immanent to social relations as a whole
and not the exclusive preserve of formal organizations).138
Drawing these strands back into our thematic, I am arguing that the
Manifestos anonymity is the authorship form most adequate to its theory
of the party, a speech without identity to match the partys immanence
to social relations and porosity to the event. Anonymity displaces the
author-function, the privileged and integrated site of proprietorial dis-
course, with the organization (formal party). But that alone would not
be adequate to the evental nonidentity of the party, for it risks a unity of
its own, and a certain doctrinal monolithism, the subsumption of dif-
ferent and various contributions to the dictatorship of a unified theory
determined by the pursuit of party identityas Camatte puts it, while
explaining why Invariance chose to end its use of the Bordiga epigraph I
take for this chapter. Hence Marxs theory of the party requires a second
displacement, whereby the authorship of a text opens out also to the dis-
ruptive force of the historical party, sometimes through the formal party
(in periods when the formal party operates against sectional interests
and self-integrated groups) and sometimes against it (when, in periods
of abeyance, the formal party becomes itself such an integrated group).
Anonymous authorship, in short, is a refusal to separate an expressive
identity from the open terrain of organizational forms and social antago-
nisms and a means to allow that terrain to undo the author-function. And
vice versa: to bring the party and anonymity into proximity is to extend
the open antagonism of the party in and through the practice of writing,
an experience for writer and reader alike.
That is a conceptual formalization, but the point can also be pursued
through particular features of the social life of the Manifesto, notably
the role of translation in its geographical dispersal, to pick up again the
peculiar self-presentation of its collective authorship. As Martin Puchner
has shown, the Manifestos announcement that Communists of various
nationalities have assembled in London, and sketched the following mani-
festo in six languages intimates the proletarian internationalism that the
text seeks to meet and evoke, and, more intriguingly, it does so in a fashion
that seems to place each language on a par, with the German in which it
was written appearing in the middle of the list as merely one language
among others. It is as if the proposed editions were to exist without trans-
lation, or only in translation, a text without an original language. One may
yet be concerned that this suggests the universal language that I have
challenged elsewhere in this book, but that is not the best way to read it.
Puchner argues that the Manifestos total translatability, where all its
editions in all languages are equivalent, is a proletarian enactment of
the world literature described in the Manifestos pages.139 Equivalence
does of course evoke the leveling equivalence of the commodity form,
the means by which value emerges and commands, but here equivalence
serves less to homogenize the text than to affirm the particularity of its
adoption and consumption, such that translation improves the work, as
it is taken up by formal parties in different antagonistic sites, linguistic
communities, and geographical contexts (which the migr experience
ensured were frequently incongruous, as Puchner notes). Discussions
concerning the great contribution of Chartist and early feminist Helen
Macfarlane (who first translated the Manifesto into English, serialized in
four parts in the Chartist weekly the Red Republican in November 1850),
or Samuel Moores 1910 translation (with his line all that is solid melts
into air that bears only a passing relation to Marx and Engelss German),
are hence more than of bibliographical and biographical interestthey are
textual expressions, in place of the author, of the distributed and disruptive
form of party that this one-time anonymous text bears and produces.140
As this comment on translation indicates, anonymity and the party
do not come into proximity all by themselves as two independent forms.
Rather, their interplay takes shape in conjunction with critical orientations

and practices in writing and publishing that ramify their effects and that,
indeed, are often necessary to determine their successful achievement.
The remainder of the chapter seeks to draw in some of the these dimen-
sions of writing and publishing with reference to particular projects that
have directly or indirectly handled the problematic of anonymity and the
party. The first of these serves as a crystalline example of the discussion
thus far, though this time we have an explicit assertion of anonymity as
an intrinsic value of communist writing.
Comit and the Communism of Writing
Blanchot lived 1968 through the Comit dAction Etudiants-Ecrivains

(Student-Writer Action Committee), in the company of Marguerite Duras,
Dionys Mascolo, and some twenty others, which, along with a number
of tracts, published a single issue of a journal, Comit, shortly after the
end of the events. Among the journals short, conjunctural, and philo-
sophically intense texts is Communism without Heirs, a text that posits
communism against the binding effects of identity and the latters didactic
and imperial valences. That is, communism is against everything that
roots men in a time, in a history, and in a language, against the prin-
ciple of alienation constituting man as privileged in his particularity, ...
imprisoning him in a contentment with his own reality, and leading him
to propose it as an example or to impose it as a conquering affirmation.141
Patriotism is the particular target, or its adoption by so-called communist
parties, though the text can also be read against tendencies to identity in
the aftermath of May, tendencies toward prolonging its formal parties
their tactics, organizational structures, theories, rhetorics, and aesthetic
stylesbeyond their event. As a ruptural event, Blanchot writes in De-
cember 1968, the May movement must now renounce itself, and not,
as he observed all around, establish and sanctify a new tradition, a false
fidelity that negates the event it claims to affirm.142
If communism is against identity in this way, it is apparent that Co-
mit understood nonidentity to be the very condition of communism, an
understanding that here takes an exquisite formulation: Communism is
what excludes (and excludes itself from) every already constituted com-
munity.143 This is communism as porosity to the event, as division, as
rupture, in Blanchots idiom, bound to the proletariat as nonidentity
the passage hence continues: The proletarian class, community without
any common denominator other than penury, dissatisfaction and lack in
every sense of the term.144 All this we have seen earlier, under the theme of
the historical party, but Blanchots formulation is an opportunity to move
more directly into the terrain of anonymity. We know from Mascolo that
Blanchot penned Communism with Heirs, but the writings in Comit
were published anonymously.145 This was not an incidental move. For
Comit, the unworking of the identity of communism, in its immanence to
the proletariat, was to be necessarily also an unworking of the identity of
the author, a condition for a communism of writing, as the project was
characterized in The Possible Characteristics.146 This editorial text is a
striking departure from the what we stand for editorial statements that
usually accompany collective political publishing, and which are so often
catalysts for the passage to identity in formal partiestotemic sets of prin-
ciples through which groups seek to project an impressive image on the
social screen, in Camattes phrasing, and so mark their self-delimitation
and perpetuation of capitalist patterns of self-marketing.147 By contrast,
this piece concentrates less on Comits political ideas and principles than
on its form of writing and publication, what it calls the journals possible
characteristics in the task of conjoining the rupture of communism
to breaking with the traditional habits and privileges of writing.148 Of
these, one characteristic, set out at the top of a list of seven, announces
the journals anonymity (where, to clarify, the first two points are the
negative conditions entailed in the production of the third, which, as we
must understand from Blanchots writing on communism, is a collective
speech without identity, or, as Kevin Hart puts it, a speech formed on
the contestation of unity):
The texts will be anonymous. Anonymity aims not to remove the authors
right of possession over what he writes nor even to make him impersonal
by freeing him from himself (his history, his person, the suspicion at-
tached to his particularity), but to constitute collective or plural speech:
a communism of writing.149
Against the Roast Pigeons of Absolute Knowledge
For all its immanence to the social field, our formulation of the party thus
far still hazards the risk, as I registered previously, of a certain identitarian
and authoritarian closure, whereby a text arrogates the authority of mass
social forces to pass off its own partial truth as a universal conditionan
instance of Blanchots alienated particular, identity at once self-contented
and commanding, though now cloaked by anonymity. To avoid this, dis-
placing authorship into the evental becoming of the party and proletariat
necessitates also displacing its authority into the same milieu. Marx says as
much. In an early letter to Arnold Ruge, Marx makes the case for a com-
munist form of writing that is to be adequate to the theory of the party:
unconstrained by identity; leaning into the future, into the uncertainty of
the event; and oriented toward division. As the necessary complement to
this, Marx adds an additional feature. Unlike idealist models of abstract
thought, where ideas are introduced from one particularity but claim
universality, this communist writing immanent to conflictual social rela-
tions necessitates that it drop any dogmatic banner. As Marx explains
(in a passage I will also pick up later, and so reproduce here at length),
Not only has a state of general anarchy set in among the reformers, but
everyone will have to admit to himself that he has no exact idea what the
future ought to be. On the other hand, it is precisely the advantage of
the new trend that we do not dogmatically anticipate the world, but only
want to find the new world through criticism of the old one. Hitherto
philosophers have had the solution of all riddles lying in their writing-
desks, and the stupid, exoteric world had only to open its mouth for the
roast pigeons of absolute knowledge to fly into it. Now philosophy has
become mundane, and the most striking proof of this is that philosophi-
cal consciousness itself has been drawn into the torment of the struggle,
not only externally but also internally. But, if constructing the future
and settling everything for all times are not our affair, it is all the more
clear what we have to accomplish at present: I am referring to ruthless
criticism of all that exists, ruthless both in the sense of not being afraid
of the results it arrives at and in the sense of being just as little afraid of
conflict with the powers that be.150
In this construction, mundane communist thought does not impose

itself on strugglesdoes not confront the world in a doctrinaire way
with a new principle: Here is the truth, kneel down before it!rather,
it emerges from struggles, from critical relationship to their torment, and
with such torment it must remain ever articulated. The role of communist
writing is thus diminished; it does not offer the communist equivalent
of the Word of salvation but merely adds a little shape, reflection, and
synthesis to knowledge that already abounds in the world, as Jasper
Bernes characterizes the antididactic role of theory in this letter.151 Yet
in this diminishing, writing becomes all the more salient and intensive,
because it no longer basks in self-importance, beached and bloated with its
own clichs, but seeks as best it can to operate immanently to the evental
unfurling of social relations. Marxs formulation here is all the more per-
tinent in that its context and medium of inscription performs its content.
For it is a text written to explain not communist thought in the abstract
but the particular purpose of publishing a journal, the Deutsch-Franzische
Jahrbcher (German-French annals, published February 1844), whose
one (double) issue was coedited by Marx and Ruge and includes the full
series of their letters, as if the epistolary form were especially suited to
such textual formulations of an immanent, antidogmatic communism. The
series concludes with a clarion call for this antidogmatic mode of writing
and publishing, proposing the trend of our journal as self-clarification
(critical philosophy) to be gained by the present time of its struggles and
desires. This is a work for the world and for us.152
Such antidogmatic writing, immanent to contingent social relations,
is simultaneously an embrace of uncertainty. As is apparent at the start of
the preceding quotation from Marxs letter to Ruge, whereas bourgeois
thought is unsettled by uncertainty (when it has no idea what the future
ought to be), communist thought, as it leans into the future, is necessar-
ily uncertain and speculative, it even holds uncertainty as its condition.
This point can be teased out from Endnotes (2008), where communist
uncertainty, if I can put it like that, is interlaced with the media form of
the journal. The first issue of Endnotes carries part of the same letter to
Ruge on its back cover, where it plays a somewhat paradoxical role. A
text now 170 years old, written and published to explain the rationale of
a nineteenth-century journal, here assists in delineating and confirming
a publishing project that actively seeks to sever itself from the past, from
communism understood as tradition and historical subject, and orient
instead only to the mutating limits of capitalist social relations. For End-
notes, communist theory arises in the immanent horizon of the class
relation, it is produced byand necessarily thinks withinthis antago-
nistic relation, a relation that is only insofar as it is ceasing to be, for
it is an impossible relation, based on the ever-repeated effort of capital
to overcome the irresolvable problem of labor, namely, the general law
of capitalist accumulation.153 As regards the journals relation to concrete
struggles, if communism arises in the mutating horizon of capitalist social
relations, it encourages attention not to the identities and certainties of
political movements and ideas as they have sedimented through time
but to encounters with the limits of these identities, as they approach
what it is at each moment that continues to bind them to capital and the
attendant rifts and conflicts that might push them beyond such limits. It
is an approach that is at once antidogmatic or mundane in its immer-
sion in social struggles and founded as far as possible on the uncertain
and contingent unfurling of those struggles. At the same time, the anti-
identitarian quality of the party necessitates that the journal here take a
critical form, the displacement of authority from communist writers to
struggles themselves being by no means an identification with the latter,
for their self-certainty must be problematized too. The journal, hence,
tries to fashion tools with which to talk about present-day strugglesin
their own terms, with all their contradictions and paradoxes brought to
light, rather than buried.154
This has effects also on the practice of journal publishing, if we turn
from the critical orientations of this journal to its media form. The group
that publishes Endnotes explains that its commitment is to rigorous and
open-ended internal debate, to the journal as a place for the careful
working out of ideas, in which no topics would be off-limits.155 But if
this is to take place at the limits of struggles, against rather than within
their identities, then it must hold at a distance attempts to take political
positions or other matters in which the Egocollective or individual
would necessarily take centre-stage.156 And here we return to the theme
of anonymity, for the published outcomes of these discussions appear
in Endnotes without author attributionguest contributions excepting,
from writers who are outside the core group.157 The inference is that
authorial anonymity is a product and index of collective, internal debate,

where the collectivity in question is bounded by the group, such that the
identity of the author is displaced by the group.158 It is a commonplace
explanation of authorial anonymity and is often accurate in this. But here
it would be more in keeping with the ungrounded ground of Endnotess
communist critique, of the historical party, to understand anonymity as
indexing less a group production than the exposure of the group to the
limits of bounded collectivity. Camatte and Collu get at something of
this with their formulation that the correct sense in which anonymity
is posed is when communists recognize themselves in a theory that
does not depend on a group or a review, because it is an expression of an
existing class struggle.159
Writing at the limit impacts too on the thematic content and temporal
structure of Endnotess publishing practice. The editorial to the third
issue explains that the more abstract theoretical content of the first is-
sues was in part a result of the low ebb in struggles but also because we
didnt know what we wanted to say about the struggles that were ongoing,
and we thought it best not to pretend otherwise.160 This declaration of
uncertainty is a striking counter to the textual construction of authority
and self-certitude that characterize the writing of conventional parties
and sects as a condition for their effective self-delimitation and public
marketing. It inclines the journal to avoid rush[ing] to conclusions for the
sake of being topical and for concerns about publishing, which I take to
mean the latent compulsion of the journal platform to periodicity. What
the editorial to the unpunctual Endnotes 3 frames as an explanation for the
delay could also, then, be an articulation of the communism of writing.161
Readers acquainted with Endnotes may think me insincere. After fol-
lowing the journals complex turns through value-form theory, systematic
dialectics, and communization, one is not left with the overriding feeling
that its texts lack certainty. And the visual design of the journal is similarly
redolent of a project that is sure of what it means. A wariness toward the
demands of periodicity was also a feature of Comit, but here it played
in tandem with a concern to ward off the constraints of regular physical
and textual form, for the list of Comits possible characteristics claims
that the journal was to be an essentially irregular publication, bound
to a temporal irregularity, just as much as an irregularity of format and

formulation.162 That is not so for Endnotes, which has a stripped-down
and rigorously ordered page layout and format size, sans serif fonts, and
cover aesthetic that is uniform across issues, save for variation in the
color of the covers, issue title, and back cover epigraph and in the small
sketch of a part-concealed lurking urban monster that accompanies the
postal address on the back flap (Figure 10). It seems some distance from
the experiments with publishing form that feature elsewhere in Anti-Book.
Indeed, the temptation is strong to follow the anonymous writer of the
blog Insipidities and conclude that something of the unruly materiality and
vitality of communism is missing here; that, at least for those attuned to
the cultic objects of communist print, the socialist-minimalism of
Endnotess compositional and aesthetic form operates in sublated life
registers.163
The Insipidities review of Endnotes 3 could be described as a counter-
actualization of this socialist minimalist condition. What can be gained
by reviewing the journal without reading it, as is this writers wont, by-
passing the business of serious reading and analysing and writing and
instead perceiving it as an experience of immediate encounter? What
are the effects of imagining Endnotes 3 without the corrections, say in
its first draft[?] How is the slag of it all, to be discerned from the pure
ore? What is filtering what? What is excluding what? What does careful-
ness, as illustrated in the group editing of collective thinking, [do] to the
outcome of that thinking, I mean politically[?] What is opened or closed
in our conceptualization of the social and affective qualities and domains
of communism when the word struggle is used forty-one times in a jour-
nals introduction alone? These are some of the fecund or maximalist
possibilities of a communist review (an antireview, perhaps) of a com-
munist journal, from which there is much to learn.164 And yet the content
of Endnotes is not without generative interplay with its aesthetic form.
We might approach the journal as a typographic and aesthetic articula-
tion of the communization problematic, where communism is so stripped
down to the thin horizon of self-overcomingwithout subject, tradition,
teleology, dogma, or guaranteethat its published articulation looks like
Figure 10. Endnotes, cover of no. 1 (2008) and inside pages of no. 3 (2013).
printed alienation, and may necessarily be so, given the impossibility of

proletarian autonomy from capital. But this is not quite a surrender of
design, for Endnotes holds nonidentity in its tight-laced form, its prefer-
ence for austere design being in part a rigorous nonpreference for any one
design in particular, a nonpreference that lends the journal, almost despite
itself, an anomalous aesthetic allure. Is it a clue that this journal makes
such an intervention at the level of its aesthetic form, or a lapse in the
regimen of nonidentity, or overkill, that, hiding in plain sight, Endnotes 3
contains a flipbook? In an article titled The Holding Pattern on the 2011
13 struggles that spread from the Tunisian uprising to Occupy, half the
page numbers have been substituted with small black squares that spin
around as one flips through the journal.165 It is a modeling of the abiding
weakness of this movement of the squares, which had the not inconsid-
erable power of heightened collectivity, and visibility as such, but, in the
very form that its collectivity took, was disembedded from the concrete
situations of everyday life whence the movement might otherwise have
gained enduring leverage.
Having considered the interplay of anonymous authorship with the
party, and with the associated decentering of textual authority and the
place of critical uncertainty, I will return briefly to Tiqqun. There are

certainly points in Tiqquns notion of the imaginary party that articu-
late the conjunction of anonymity and the party thus far discussed. Some
features are ably apparent, for instance, in Sonogram of a Potentiality,
from Tiqqun 2, which seeks to draw gender and sexuality out into the
social realmsubjecting the private and intimate to the intensity of
politicsand frames the move as a critique not only of the interiorized
and unitary subject but also of the self-bolstering certainty that accom-
panies that subject in writing. Here we read, then:
I wanted a text that wouldnt cry, that wouldnt vomit sentences, that
wouldnt give premature answers just to make itself look unquestionable.
And thats why the following is not a text written by women for women,
because I am not one and I am not just one, but I am a many that says
I. An I against the fiction of the little me that acts as if it were
universal and mistakes its own cowardice for the right to erase, in the
name of others, everything that contradicts it.166
This reflexive and anti-identitarian orientation is manifest also in relation

to the mediums of communist writing. A preface to Tiqquns book edi-
tion of The Theory of Bloom informs the reader that, despite appearance to
the contrary, it does not behave like a book, for it resists that mediums
closure and its function as complement to the subject: The Book is a
dead form, in so far as it was holding its reader in the same fraudulent
completeness, in the same esoteric arrogance as the classic Subject in
front of his peers.167 This text, it suggests, is instead an editorial virus.
It exposes the principle of incompleteness, the fundamental insufficiency
that is in the foundation of the published work.168 The formulation recalls
comments on communism and the book in Comit, where the medium
of the bookas described in a text concerned with the plethora of books
about May 1968 that followed immediately upon its demiseserves to
close down the rupture of communism:
Everything that disturbs, calls, threatens, and finally questions without

expecting an answer, without resting in certainty, never will we enclose
it in a book, which, even when open, tends toward closure, a refined
form of oppression....No more books, never again a book, so long as we

maintain our relation with the upheaval of the rupture.169
To prolong the arrest of history that was May 1968 requires instead
writing in fragments, in mural writing, tracts, posters, bulletins, and
journals. For sure, the fragment is not the only means to politics in writing.
The Comit text Reading Marx draws out three modes of composition
in Marxs writingpertaining to his subversive pursuit of philosophy,
politics, and scienceonly one of which is fragmentary, though all have
salience: Communist speech is always at the same time tacit and violent,
political and scientific, direct, indirect, total and fragmentary, lengthy, and
almost instantaneous.170 These modes of writing do not live comfort-
ably in Marx, they interplay and come apart, an example [that] helps
us to understand that the speech of writing, the speech of incessant con-
testation, must constantly develop and break away from itself in multiple
forms. Fragmentary forms, then, do not say everything, but in that is
their particular effect and power: on the contrary, they ruin everything;
they are outside of everything. They act and reflect fragmentarily....Like
words on the wall, they are written in insecurity, received under threat;
they carry the danger themselves and then pass with the passerby who
transmits, loses, or forgets them.171
Tiqquns editorial virus appears to suggest such directions in media
form, but it is not the derailing of identity that it at first seems, for Tiqqun
substitutes the reciprocal identity of book and subject with that of book and
communitythe book as agent of community, the book, in other words,
in the most classical mold, what chapter 3 identified as the root-book.
As the preface to The Theory of Bloom has it, the great books have never
ceased to be those which succeeded in creating a community, and this
one, apparently, is no different:
With the most explicit mentions, with the most crudely convenient
indicationsaddress, contact, etc.it increases itself in the sense of
realizing the community that it lacks, the virtual community made up of
its real-life readers. It suddenly puts the reader in such a position that his
withdrawal may no longer be tenable, a position where the withdrawal
of the reader can no longer be neutral. It is in this sense that we will hone,
sharpen, and clearly define The Theory of Bloom.172
This formulation of the book is illustrative of a tendency evident through-

out Tiqqun, where articulations of the nonidentity of the party are over-
whelmed byor serve to cloaka politics of identity. Especially in texts
like The Coming Insurrection, Call, and Introduction to Civil War, the
declared process of becoming anonymous takes the form and injunction
of identification with a we or an us against a they. Ejecting capitalist
relations by force of will and acts of marginal lifestyleexternalizing the
they, in other wordsthis us becomes a privileged subject or party,
despite protestations to the contrary and however various and fragmented
its composition. This community of us finds the conditions of com-
munism not in the diffuse and emergent field of lives and struggles im-
manently determined by the value forms of capitalthe nonidentitarian
field of the historical partybut in its own present existence, and in the
confirmation and preservation of this through community with others
who hear the call and join us in federations of friendship.173 The
following example is too easy a target, but it has the merit of setting out
this aspect of Tiqquns position with clarity:
Usit is neither a subject, nor something formed, nor a multitude. Us

it is a heap of worlds, of sub-spectacular and interstitial worlds, whose
existence is unmentionable, woven together with the kind of solidarity
and dissent that power cannot penetrate; and there are the strays, the
poor, the prisoners, the thieves, the criminals, the crazy, the perverts, the
corrupted, the overly alive, the overflowing, the rebellious corporealities.
In short, all those who, following their own line of flight, do not fit into
Empires stale, air-conditioned paradise. Usthis is the fragmented
plane of consistency of the Imaginary Party.174
In contradistinction to the ruptural quality of the historical party, imma-

nent to social relations, the emancipated us described hereassociations
of all those who do not fit, where power cannot penetratecannot
but posit and ever renew a demarcation from the social, because the latter
necessarily places the autonomous association under threat. That is the
imaginary partys outward facing effect, the boundary produced by the

they. Facing inward, the considerable risk of this demarcation is that it
constitutes a collective identity in which social hierarchies, psychologi-
cal dependencies, and reified thinking are intensified in associations that
tend toward homogeneity based on the equivalence of their members to
the particular feature that defines them. As such, the particularity of the
us apparently outside of capital becomes the very product of capital, a
mechanism for the reproduction of its subjective modalities. This is far
from the communist anonymity we have been pursuing.
5
Proud to Be Flesh
Diagrammatic Publishing in Mute Magazine
For those capable of attention, [diagrams] are the moments

where being is glimpsed smiling.
gilles chtelet, Figuring Space
To publish a magazine is to enter into a heightened relationship

with the present moment.
gwen allen, Artists Magazines
What is a political magazine? Or to give that question contemporary

purchase, what can a political magazine be and do today, in our time of
ubiquitous media, when the intermediation of communicative platforms,
user-generated content, wikis, blogs, and social media have so thoroughly
transformed the publishing environment? This chapter addresses that
question through a study of the London-based art, technology, and poli-
tics magazine Mute, an experimental hybrid publishing venture that
tests the limits and potentials of Web, e-publishing, and print platforms
alike.1 As with all the writing and publishing projects discussed in Anti-
Book, the politics in question resides not only in the magazines content
but throughout its media form, for Mutes signal feature is that since its
inception in 1994, it has regarded message and medium, content and
carrier as inherently linked.2 Mutes coverage of the evolving political and
aesthetic capacities of digital and online media (among a welter of other
topics) has thus intersected with a continual remodeling of its publishing
form, a self-differing orientation, to use Rosalind Krausss term, that is
apparent in the title of its 2001 hybrid publishing document: Ceci nest
pas un magazine (Plate 10).3 This chapter pursues the specific ways that
Mute has undertaken its critical remodeling, so building up a picture of
what I call its diagrammatic publishing, an immanent and self-differing
224
proud to be flesh 225
media form that operates through the magazines publishing platforms,

participatory mechanisms, aesthetic styles, editorial and commissioning
paradigms, temporal modes, and commercial structures.
The term diagram features in this chapter in two interrelated senses:
as a visual means of modeling and as a material form or process. First,
diagrams are schematic orderings of graphic and textual materials that
seek, through the arrangement of lines, images, and words, to describe
and model dynamic relationships. One such visual diagram was developed
by Mute to plot, convey, and provoke its move to hybrid publishing, a
diagram called The Magazine That Mistook Its Reader for a Hat!4 The
chapter concentrates on this publishing diagram; it was incited by Mutes
diagram and takes many of its cues from it. Second, the diagram, as I use
it, is a concept developed by Deleuze and Guattari that, in concert with
the concept of assemblage, seeks to grasp the emergent consistency and
agential effects of singular sociomaterial formations, in their concrete and
abstract scales, and the means by which these articulate mutually sustain-
ing relations between content and form. It is a concept used to research
social phenomena in a manner that wards off the trap of reifying its field,
insofar as it attends to breaks as much as to continuities, and seeks at
once to map sociomaterial formations and intervene within them. As I
plot Mutes media form, I come to describe it as a diagram in Deleuze and
Guattaris sense, with this aspect of the chapter emerging out of discussion
of the magazines visual diagram into empirical analysis of its concrete
publishing practices. In Mutes visual diagram, then, there is an indistinc-
tion between the two senses of diagram as I use itgraphical modeling
and diagrammatic form. If it does not scramble this schematic picture too
much, we might say that Mutes publishing diagram, the central organizing
object of this chapter, is a diagram of the magazine becoming a diagram.
The particular features and qualities of Mutes diagrammatic form will
become apparent in due course, but I would like to commence analysis of
the magazine with a picture of its general character, for which I will use
not a diagram but two metaphors. Metaphors court clich, but in their
capacity to evoke forms, they can also be a first step toward diagrammatic
rendering (a thesis I will develop later). The character I want to convey
here is one of the political magazine as an immanent mode of publishing,
226 proud to be flesh
for which I draw first on a metaphor supplied by Antonio Negri, a political

philosopher and militant whose work in both domains has been closely
associated with periodical publication.5
Magazine Immanence
In recounting his experiences in collectively publishing the political journal

Futur Antrieur (198998), Negri offers a striking appraisal of the nature
and purpose of this medium:
A good journal is like an octopus, continually reaching out and pulling in

the theoretical and historical happenings in the environment in which it
lives. This journal had a soula passionate soul which tried to absorb
everything in the world around it which offered theoretical interest, a
political choice, an ethical dimension, or simply a joy of life. The soul
of a journal is its radical determination to give meaning to everything it
touches, to build it into a theoretical tendency, to embrace it within a
mechanism of practical activity.6
From this one can draw out three interrelated traits of magazine imma-
nence. First, the magazines soul resides in its politicizing contentin
conceptual, ethical, and practical dimensionsand, second, in a manner
always open to the environment in which it lives, to everything it touches,
what I will call a passionate immanence to the social world. Elsewhere in
this essay, Negri also sketches a number of important if more mundane
features, not least of which is the considerable labor and cost involved
in production and the theoretical and political conflict that fires editorial
practice. In so doing, he starts to take us into the nitty-gritty of magazine
publishing, indicating that its immanence to the social world is far from
smooth and uncomplicated but rather is produced through assorted and
conflictual practices and structures. But for now, let me simply draw from
this the third key trait: that the political magazine is very much a textual
medium of collective production.
Politicizing content, immanence to the social world, collective
productionthese are broad traits that will feature throughout my dis-
cussion of Mutes diagrammatic form. But at this stage of the picture,
we come up short, for Negris metaphors only take us so far: octopus

and soul help convey the reach and passions of a political magazine,
yet neither of these metaphors of organic and spiritual life is especially
helpful if one seeks to evoke the many and various materialities involved
in the composition of a magazine. Moreover, they give the impression
of a centralized and integrated entity, an image of the political magazine
that I seek here to move away from. Rather than pulling in, absorb[ing]
everything into the magazines center, as the image of the octopus so
vividly evokes, I want to convey a stronger sense of magazine immanence,
something flatter and decentered. To that end, a better metaphor of the
magazine can be borrowed from Deleuze and Guattaris figure of the
book as single page:
The ideal for a book would be to lay everything out on a plane of exterior-
ity...,on a single page, the same sheet: lived events, historical determina-
tions, concepts, individuals, groups, social formations....[A] broken chain
of affects and variable speeds, with accelerations and transformations,
always in relation with the outside.7
As with Negris characterization, this single page is a figure of immanence

with the social, but unlike the octopus, the page as plane of exteriority
is radically decentered. They call it a single page, but this is in no way
unified; it is a broken plane, comprising the outside with no interiority or
identity of its owna plane crisscrossed by concepts, events, groups,
peoples, and social formations, it operates in the middle, between things,
interbeing, intermezzo.8 Yet, still, the metaphor comes up short, because
although we have shifted from octopus to the writerly inorganic material of
paperand achieved a compelling image of the magazine as a decentered
immanence along the waythis single page offers little purchase on the
concrete dimensions of magazine form, the page being only a metaphorical
field of encounter or, at most, the field where the encounter is written.
Neither have we gained any understanding of the nature of the mutually
sustaining exchange between content and form that is so central to Mute
and any other self-differing magazine.
We need to move, then, from the metaphors of magazine immanence
octopus and single pageto its concrete practice in Mute magazine,
the plotting of which will show how complicated such immanence can
actually be.
The European Anti-W ired
The document that first announced Mutes move into hybrid publishing,
Ceci nest pas un magazine, sets up something of a slogan that conveys
the extent and manner of its experimental interest in magazine form. This
is a magazine; even in Mutes post-digital incarnation of print, Web, and
e-publishing platforms, the editorial group continues to use this category
to describe the publishing project as a whole (a convention I adopt here).
The declaration this is not a magazine does not, then, signify a negation
of that medium but rather a self-reflexive critique and problematization
of the magazine as media form. It conveys too a critique of identity that
pervades the magazine as a whole, a critique that Mute has maintained
since inception, and which is a necessary first step in any move to pub-
lishing immanence, repelling a center of attraction that would otherwise
deter its persistent opening to its outside. In due course I will move to
discuss the nature and effects of this reflexive, anti-identitarian critique
on Mutes media form, for that is my primary concern in this chapter, but
by way of introduction to Mute, I come to this after some initial reflection
on how its anti-identity has been manifest in the magazines remit and
textual content.
Mutes long-term editor, Josephine Berry Slater, accounts for the
magazines rather unusual self-critical orientation by reference to the
fine art backgrounds of its founders, Pauline van Mourik Broekman and
Simon Worthington, an orientation she describes as a concerted battle
against the dominant logic of specialisation or static identity, a refusal
to unconditionally embrace a genre, discipline or political position.9
But if Mutes resistance to static identity is driven by a critical sensibility
derived from art practice, it is also a product of the particular remit of
the magazine, as constituted in mutual exchange with its early textual
content. Initially focused on mid-1990s digital arts and the impact of the
Internet on the art establishment, Mute quickly came to concentrate on
the nature and effects of new technologies across society as a whole, an
orientation apparent from the magazines early strap line, Culture and
Politics after the Net. Fascinated by the dramatic changes associated
with pervasive computing and digitization, Mute distinguished itself by
remaining resolutely critical of the explanatory frameworks, conceptual
figures, and inflated political claims of early Net cultureit emerged
somewhat as the European anti-Wired, in Berry Slaters crisp formula-
tion.10 Tracing the now familiar themes of digital democracy, information
commons, the prosumer, the creative economy, immaterial labor, and
such like, Mute resisted the seductions of identity offered by these condi-
tions and concepts. The magazine preferred instead to position itself
necessarily precariouslyon the fault line between the transformative
communicational and associational capacities of digital technologies and
their proclivity for extending and perfecting the marketization of social
relations. Indeed, the dynamics of neoliberal capitalism have increasingly
come forward in Mute as a principal focus and explanatory framework.
This could have produced a dogmatic or ideological orientation, but rather
than a totalizing intellectual structure, the concern with contemporary
capitalism has been pursued through an eclectic range of its empirical
instantiations. As van Mourik Broekman contends, Mute sought to treat
capitalism as a governing global condition without losing out on the
specificity of its manifestations.11
This empirically routed focus on capitalism is the groundan im-
manent, mutable, ungrounded groundfor Mutes critique of identity.
For whether concentrating on the class-cleansing regeneration of east
London, Web 2.0 social media, the commercial deployment of culture,
precarious labor, the financialization of the art market, or the security
structures that underpin liberal models of citizenship, Mutes understand-
ing of the rapacious dynamics of capital allows for no secure point of criti-
cal identity. Indeed, Mutes common observation is that critical identity
tends to perpetuate the structures of domination and exploitation that it
nominally opposes. For instance, with regard to the possible role of the
artist as critical outsider, an influential Mute article by Anthony Davies
and Simon Ford, Culture Clubs, traced how, in the period prior to the
dotcom crash, art had become one element, along with music, fashion,
design, clubbing, and political scenes, that could be brought together,
mediated and repackaged in a range of formats conducive to entrepre-

neurial capital. In this neoliberal structure of culture, the topographical
metaphor of inside and outside upon which much critical art practice
has been founded is now not only untenable as a critical paradigm, it
becomes a constitutive part of these new commercial mechanisms, for
here an apparently critical outside actually provides the marginal and
socially engaged art practice upon which culture industries thrive.12
Yet Mutes aim has not been to substitute the subjectivity of the out-
sider artist with one of an apparently more radical hue: precariat, multi-
tude, cognitariat, self-organized autonomy, the 99 percent, to name some
of those who have had ascendancy during Mutes publishing span. These
have some potential to assist in opening critical attention, but they are no
less bound to relations of identity and exclusion, as Angela Mitropouloss
Mute essay Precari-Us? astutely observes. While warning against the as-
sumption of precarity as a vanguard point of political aggregation under
the impetus of a newly precarious middle class, Mitropoulos explains,
Names confer identity as if positing an unconditional presupposition.

Like all such assertions, it is not simply the declaration that one has dis-
covered the path to a different future in an existing identity that remains
questionable. More problematically, such declarations are invariably the
expression and reproduction of a hierarchy of value in relation to others.13
Returning from the particular content of Mutes articles back to its broader
remit, it would be a mistake to imagine that the magazines critique of
identity indicated a pristine critical position abstracted from the messi-
ness of the social world. It is quite the contrary, for interlaced with Mutes
critique of neoliberal social forms is something of a joyous materiality, an
orientation held in its longtime strap line Proud to Be Flesh. Here we
start to make the initial moves from Mutes critical orientations into its
publishing form, from its critique of identity into its critical immanence
with the sociomaterial world. Mutes affirmation of flesh may sound a
little peculiar, even reactionarySiegfried Zielinskis reading of Mutes
term in this way is understandable, though incorrect.14 It has a particular
point of origin, posited against the bloodless myths of immateriality
that populated the early field of technoculture, be it in Gibsonian notions
of cyberspace, Charles Leadbeaters visions of living on thin air, the

frictionless circuits of finance capital, or postautonomist formulations
of immaterial labor. Flesh, here, is sensate matter, an association of bodies,
needs, affectsnot an ontological opposition to digital technology or a
humanist assertion of an inviolate organism but an open biosocial plane
with which technology is irrevocably enmeshed. Flesh, as van Mourik
Broekman confirms, is a stand-in for material substrates of all kinds.15
It is a formulation that was realized aesthetically to great effect on the
cover of Mutes 2009 anthology Proud to Be Flesh, with its highly mediated
image of a map of the world rendered in marbled raw red meat (with the
books spine modeling the meats fat layer, thus integrating the books
codex form with the meat of its cover image). If Negris octopus reaches
out into its environment, this metaphor of flesh, then, has Mute wholly
enmeshed within it; flesh is the substance of the magazine, the material
flux of the world with which Mute is fully immanent.
Form and Content
Mutes publishing form has undergone six major transformations. It began

as a broadsheet using the same salmon pink paper stock as the Financial
Times and printed on the latters London Docklands presses during the
machinerys nighttime test run (Plate 11).16 The broadsheet presents us
with an initial instance of the immanent and anti-identitarian sensibility
of Mutes content and remit becoming expressed in its media form, its
understanding of flesh taken up in its publishing paradigm. The im-
mediate impression this first manifestation of Mute conveyed was of a
disjunction between its new media content and graphics and the old
and establishment media form of the broadsheet, an effect that was ac-
centuated by the deliberate styling on the first British daily newspaper,
the Daily Courant (est. 1702), going so far as mimicking the font and
presenting the latters editorial (concerning the difficulties of launching
a new publication) as Mutes own.17 This retro-futurist gesture served
to deflate the technoboosterism of emerging Net culture and sought to
escape a simplistic homologue between radicality and cut-up, contem-
porary design.18 More particularly, the broadsheet presented a formal
critique of the prevalent rhetoric of immateriality, a move underscored

by the papers fleshy pink tones, a clear resonance with the papers strap
line. If Mute was, thus, Proud to Be Flesh, this format also drew atten-
tion to the socioeconomic structures within which Mute, as any other
publishing project, was enmeshed. It is abundantly clear that the Mute
broadsheet was only possible by piggybacking on the capital-intensive
production process of the Financial Times, and its proximity to such an
iconic source of business information produced unsettling associations
for any reader who might have imagined that this artifact of new media
critique had escaped from the world of capital.19 For all its inventive and
singular style, the Mute broadsheet was, then, very much enmeshed in a
world not of its own making and saw its role at a formal level to foreground
the material complexities and contradictions of such an existence.
Now that we have an initial example of Mutes interplay between form
and content, this relation can be theorized a little more, and in a way that
can be taken up later into the concept of diagrammatic publishing. A first
approximation of the formcontent relation can be developed with the
aid of Krausss concept of the self-differing medium that I proposed
in chapter 1 to be a central dimension of any anti-book. A self-differing
medium is constituted when the conventions and structures that determine
the medium of a particular artwork are themselves taken up in the work
in a fashion that alters those determinations, such that the work comes
to specify its own medial conditions and hence becomes self-differing.20
The medium, then, is something made, rather than something given, or
made as much as it is given.21 Significantly for our understanding of Mute,
the medium in Krausss formulation is not confined to a works physical
substrate but can also take an epistemic form, including rules, logics,
and paradigms. Hence, in Mutes case, as we will see, the medium might
include publishing platforms but also, for example, editorial paradigms
and logics of user participation. Moreover, for Krauss, the aesthetic work
tends not toward a progressively more refined adequacy to its medium
but toward an open and recursive emergence through successive loops
of interaction between the work and its medium. There is no direct cor-
respondence, hence, between work and medium but more a baggy fit,
allowing for an uncertain determination between the two and a degree of
latitude in the way a work responds to its material forms, even as it suc-
ceeds only insofar as it constitutes the necessity of their resultant relation.
As the broadsheet clearly exemplifies, Mute embodies a strong self-
differing orientation, but it diverges from the kinds of work that Krauss
analyses in ways that suggest this concept may apply here only in general
terms. For Mute is not a single work, or a series of works by a single art-
ist, but a polymorphous and discontinuous aggregate, emerging over a
twenty-year time span across the many different dimensions and features
of content and form that have come into relation; its analysis calls for
concepts that can handle that discontinuity and variation. Second, while
the concept of the self-differing medium is useful in foregrounding the
aesthetic and medial dimensions of Mutes experimental form, Mute is
of course a publishing project rather than an artwork. As such, its textual
contentas with Negris characterization, the leading feature of this
political magazinehas greater significance in its own right and more
autonomy with regard to its media form.
To develop an approach that addresses these points and offers a more
adequate theorization of Mutes contentform relation, I turn to Deleuze
and Guattaris concept of assemblage and, later, to that of diagram.
For Deleuze and Guattari, textual content and material formor discur-
sive multiplicities and non-discursive multiplicitiesexist in relative
autonomy. Between content and form there is neither a correspondence
nor a causeeffect relation nor a signifiedsignifier relation; instead,
they are drawn together in assemblages where they interact in relations
of reciprocal presupposition, an assemblage being at once product and
cause of this interaction.22 Much of the time, such assemblages reproduce
standard patterns, where the product of the reciprocal presupposition of
content and material form is unremarkable and the fact of this relation
is largely unnoticed. We can think of a commercial lifestyle magazine as
such an assemblage. It tends to reproduce standard patterns of format,
editorial, page layout, modes of address, journalism, manufacture, and
so on, as textual and visual content and magazine form interact in unre-
markable fashion, and where cultures of consumption have little feeling
for how much all this interpolates particular kinds of subjectivity. But in
more experimental magazines like Mute (and only some of the time and
in particular instances, for the standard patterns endure here also), the
interaction between content and form intensifies, the two interfere with
each other, causing mutual transformation and, hence, transformation in
their aggregate, the magazine assemblage.
A particular assemblages mix of content and form will be highly vari-
ous. As we will see in Mute, sometimes the relationship between content
and form is explicit and clearly expressed in a particular work; other
times, the relation is less directly identified with a particular work but
rather is a quality of the magazine as a whole, or a quality of a delimited
sequence in its publication. Likewise, sometimes the interplay between
content and form is expressed in ways where text takes a dominant role
(the kind of works N. Katherine Hayles calls technotext, where a
literary work interrogates the inscription technology that produces it);
other times, more in accord with Krausss concept, text may have little
presence, and instead paradigmatic, organizational, or medium-specific
features of the magazine may articulate its agendas.23 It may even be
the case that brute physical materials come to express the magazines
critical agendas, what Guattari calls the mute redundancies that too
often suffer overcoding by linguistic text.24 Of this, the salmon pink
broadsheet is a clear instancea mute, visual, encoded articulation
of the magazines critical concerns, as van Mourik Broekman describes
it.25 Whichever manifestation it takes, the concept of assemblage teaches
that while content and form are in relations of reciprocal presupposition,
there is always a gap between them, irreducible as they are to each other,
such that an assemblage functions out of balance and always open to
its outside.26 As I will show shortly, it is in this gap that the nonplace of
the diagram operates, at once swallowed up in particular assemblages
and operating as their agential pilot.27
Minifesto and Diagram
We can now return to plotting Mutes publishing form. Leaving the broad-
sheet behind in 1997, between issue numbers 9 and 24, Mute took a more
recognizable magazine format (saddle-stitched, then perfect bound) before
adopting a lavish coffee-table format with issues 2529 (20024). The
design experiments, aesthetic qualities, and publishing practicalities of

this period of the magazine are addressed in considerable depth in Mutes
graphic design anthology, so I will largely pass over discussion of these.28
Instead, from here on, this chapter focuses on the subsequent period from
2005, when Mute fully embarked on its hybrid publishing model.29 At
this point the magazine comes to take on what I call a diagrammatic form.
I mostly focus here on the period between 2005 and 2011, known as Vol-
ume 2, which I take to be the height of Mutes hybrid and diagrammatic
publishing, before the immanent financial limits I discuss toward the end
of the chapter necessitated a climb down to a more Web-based model.
The immediately apparent feature of Mutes development at this stage
is the changed role and status of its online publishing, as the Metamute
website (first instituted in 1995) shifted from being an adjunct to the printed
magazine to taking a central place. Yet this is not that well-rehearsed story
of a simple move from print to online but a reconfiguration at a more
infrastructural level, a change in the magazines publishing form and
paradigm. It was a change introduced in a highly original manner through
two visual diagrams, published in the magazine itself, which graphically
modeled the dynamics and directions of its transformation. I will spend
some time working through the second of these diagrams before turning
from its abstract modeling and the diagrammatic form that it reveals to
consider the concrete features of the magazines form with which the
diagram is in interplay, as map, provocation, and product.
I have mentioned the self-critical orientation held in the title of the
first of these diagrams; the same is true for its sequel, which is our focus
here: The Magazine That Mistook Its Reader for a Hat! It riffs on
neurologist Oliver Sackss account of a patient who was so unable to
recognize the world around him that he mistook his wife for a hat, so
metaphorically signaling the perceived rift between the magazine and
its outside and the radical perceptual change involved in moving from
a traditional magazine...to a hybrid publishing model.30 The rather
unusual character of this document warrants some explanation before I
attend to the specific publishing form that it plots. Mute playfully describes
the two diagrams as minifestos, encouraging us to approach them at a
tangent to the textual form of the manifesto. Like the manifesto, these
diagrams mark explicit points of radical departure, diagnosing and pro-

jecting a future that in turnand this is the peculiar mode of authority
of the manifesto formreacts back upon the present of the magazine to
force and channel transformation.31 However, as I argued in chapter 1, the
performative structure of the manifesto is heavily invested in the exterior
presentation of a strong and coherent group subjectivity, the successful
projection of its vision in large part necessitating that it conjure away the
cracks, discords, and instabilities of political existence. Mutes diminutive
designator minifesto signals a movement away from such self-inflation.
The minifestos work rather differently, turning their gaze internally to
the normally invisible processes of self-critique and development and
projecting these to the outside.32 That is to say, they serve a function
of critical self-analysis, what van Mourik Broekman calls a reflexive
autopoetic criticality, which is now brought to the surface, no longer
hidden behind a puffed-up subjectivity but laid out for readers on the
magazine page.33
If this document is a minifesto, it takes the form of a visual diagram,
a schematic ordering of graphic and textual materiallines, pictograms,
words, arranged in space. Gilles Chtelets Figuring Space offers much
insight here, and in terms that are especially pertinent for considering
Mutes media form, for he sees diagrams as modes of scientific inscrip-
tion particularly germane to experimental and inventive projects that
break with identitythat proceed through blind spots, problematics,
fogsas the complexity of life is take[n] up again in the flesh.34 It is
an argument that can be best approached through the contrast Chtelet
draws between diagrams and metaphors. He writes, Diagrams are in
a degree the accomplices of poetic metaphor. But they are a little less
impertinentit is always possible to seek solace in the mundane plot-
ting of their thick linesand more faithful: they can prolong themselves
into an operation which keeps them from becoming worn out.35 Both
metaphors and diagrams work to describe and evoke relationsthey
leap out to figure spacebut metaphors risk becoming worn out
clichs, with passifying effect, as they dissolve the cold technical speci-
ficity of a particular operation with the warm confusion of relations of
resemblance.36 Diagrams, on the other hand, with their modest plotting
and sketchingas they struggle in uncertainty to grasp elusive abstract
relations and make connections across disparate realmsare extended or

prolonged in contact with the world (or the flesh) that they map. Not
that metaphor is entirely dismissed (helpfully for me, since I began this
chapter that way and will have recourse to other metaphors yet). While
metaphors tend toward clich, we can think the relation the other way
around and see them also as proto-diagrams, or nursemaids to diagrams,
understood as the process of shifting from clichd representations to an
awakened critical intervention: metaphor begins the process of shedding
its skin that will metamorphose into operation, and hence it is that this
nook swarms with clichs that strive to invite us to view a rediscovered
operativity.37 Yes, diagrams inevitably arrest movement too, abstracting
a figure from the complexity of sociomaterial relations, but they do so in
a manner that remains open toindeed, solicitsthe indeterminate
potential of matter to take other form, its virtuality.38 Diagrams, then,
both illustrate and engender; that is their specific function:
[If the diagram] immobilizes a gesture in order to set down an operation,

it does so by sketching a gesture that then cuts out another. The dotted
line refers neither to the point and its discrete destination, nor to the
line and its continuous trace, but to the pressure of the virtuality...that
worries the already available image in order to create space for a new
dimension: the diagrams mode of existence is such that its genesis is
comprised in its being.39
Diagrammatic Publishing
Having assessed The Magazine That Mistook Its Reader for a Hat! as
minifesto and visual diagram, it is time to turn to its specific content. What
does this diagram engender, as it puts metaphors aside and turn[s]
felt into flesh, in Mutes rather Chteletian formulation of the task?40
The specific problematic the minifesto addressed, as with its precursor,
was the opening of Mutes previously closed editorial structure to user
participation, as Mute came to recognize the radical changes under way
in the publishing environment and made a move toward user-generated
content. But it does so by posing the problem as one of the media form of
the magazine as a whole, as Mute transformed into a diagrammatic entity.
We can follow the transformations through the minifesto itself (Figure 11).
Figure 11. The Magazine That Mistook Its Reader for a Hat! Artwork concept by
Mute based on an earlier concept by Quim Gil, art direction by Simon Worthington,
Mute 1, no. 25 (2002). Courtesy of Skyscraper Digital Publishing.
Starting with the image titled B. The Mute Project Cluster, it is

apparent that the new publishing model was less a shift from print to
digital than a move from identification with a single platform to a hybrid
cluster, an open set of many platforms and practices, where a hybrid
is anything derived from heterogeneous sources, or composed of ele-
ments of different or incongruous kinds.41 These clustered platforms
are represented here pictographically, but in concrete terms, as it stood
at the height of Mutes diagrammatic form, the magazine comprised the
following: the Metamute website; a quarterly print-on-demand (POD)
booklet; the OpenMute consultancy and training in open source tools,
design, and e-publishing (with associated speculative initiatives in inde-
pendent and peer-to-peer publishing tools and distribution: More Is More
and Progressive Publishing System); Mute Books; solo and collaborative
workshops, talks, and events (a notable instance was the November 2008
Forever Blowing Bubbles walking tour through Londons financial City
with Peter Linebaugh and Fabian Tompsett); occasional pamphlets; and
Mute LISTSERVs (including Mute-social, a public notices list, and, if we
include the nonpublic aspects of the magazine, Mute-edit and Mutemag-
production, closed lists where the intellectual and practical dimensions
of editorial are hammered out).42
Where exactly is Mute in this hybrid cluster? We see in section (B) that
the platforms circle the perimeter of a vortex, suggesting that Mute is at
once to be found in each of its clustered platforms, as I have suggested,
andmore than the sum of its parts, as the accompanying text has
itin the vortex itself, a metaphor for a particular kind of process. Mute,
in other words, takes both concrete and abstract form. If we develop this
with Deleuze and Guattaris terminology, Mutes media form comprises at
once a series of concrete publishing assemblages (the clustered platforms,
interlacing content and form in particular situations) and an abstract
machine or diagram (pictographically represented as a vortex). This
addition of diagram to our already elaborated account of the assemblage
is significant, for it allows us to grasp what gives consistency to the cluster
of publishing platforms. A diagram pilots, or governs and potentializes, a
set of assemblages, where the latter are particular and various expressions
of the formers abstract formula, its general orientation. As an abstract
entity, a nonplace, a diagram does not stand over the assemblages but
is immanent to them.43 And it has no form and content of its ownit is
almost blind and mute, manifest only through the assemblages, and in
turn becoming transformed by their particular and various handling of its
abstract formula.44 So, although I suggested earlier that a magazine can
be understood as an assemblage, in Mutes case, that was true only until
it was displaced from identification with one publishing platform onto a
cluster of platforms, at which point it was no longer only an assemblage, or
even a set of assemblages, but became also a diagram, where the diagram
both governs its assemblages and is in a relation of mutual presupposi-
tion with them. These are the bare bones of diagrammatic publishing, of
which Mute from this point on is a singular exemplar, but we need yet to
understand the way that it produces magazine immanence and to tease
out the concrete specificities of this diagrammatic form.
To these ends, the minifesto continues to be instructive, where the
vortex has additional valence as a modeling of immanence. It is a metaphor
still, but one that is considerably more operational, in Chtelets sense,
than Negris octopus and Deleuze and Guattaris single page. If we
follow the movements, the vortex (B) conveys a strong processual quality
to Mute that avoids the twin problems of a closed and bounded entity and
an undetermined flux. It suggests instead an immersive or immanent entity
whose inside is an involution of its outside, a process operative through a
permeable boundary. The vortex, indeed, is constituted on this boundary.
What does that mean? It is to say, first of all, that the magazine is defined
by its ever-changing boundaries, the encounters of outside and inside
the magazine is these encounters. Yes, a vortex is a site of concentration,
intensely so, but unlike Negris image of the octopus, it is concentration
without a center, or with a very different kind of center. It is something of
a paradoxical space, both inside and outside simultaneouslyan inside
copresent with the outside, as Deleuze describes itwhere the inside
and outside are continually exchanged, twisted, and doubled together.45
Or to speak with Chtelet, this is an immanent horizon (one always
carries ones horizon away with one) that, insofar as it is driven by the
outside, is experienced as a certain involuntarism of the intensive en-
counter: corrosive like the visible, tenacious like a smell, compromising
like touch, [the horizon] does not dress things up with appearances, but
impregnates everything that we are resolved to grasp.46
How does this immanent, vortexlike process actually occur? The
focus of the minifestos is on the process of generating textual and visual
content, for the editorial team framed the hybrid publishing model as a
reprioritization of content, a return to what was always already Mutes
main interest.47 This could sound like a move away from the experiments
with magazine form that I have been pursuing, but it is actually through
such refocusing on content that Mute began its most experimental engage-
ment with media form. For it was characterized by a redoubled attention
to the diversity and effects of the medial means by which content is pro-
duced, circulated, and consumed. Returning to follow the movements in
the minifesto, the border of the vortex is constituted, then, through the
parameters of attraction and invitation that, in centripetal fashion,
draw content out from the environment and into a point of concentration,
Mute itself. As we have seen, this point of concentration is experienced
only in and through the magazines clustered publishing platforms, so
the magazines border, its immanent horizon, is multiple, layered, and
discontinuous. And at each of these borders, magazine content is solicited,
handled, and problematized in terms that are conditioned by the particular
technical and epistemic qualities of that platform. These platform qualities
are not politically inert, of course, but are interlaced with sets of political
problematics of their own (as we will see).
With this picture, we have a much richer sense of the sociomaterial
flesh of the magazine, and we have too a diagrammatic explanation of
Mutes reflexive practice of self-critique. For insofar as the magazines
vortex-movement folds and unfolds its environment, the critique that it
develops of that environment is necessarily also turned against itself as a
product of that environment. This dimension of self-critique is crucial to
the immanent, diagrammatic form of the magazine, because without it,
Mutes center would lose its paradoxical copresence with its outside, its
vortex would slow down and settle into an identity separated from that
which its content surveys.
There is a further quality of magazine immanence to the movement
described in the minifesto, whereby the attraction of content works
alongside a decentering redistribution of the magazines participants, in

regard to content provision and publishing infrastructure, what it terms
participation. This is critically described by text (C) (as I will discuss
shortly) and partially assayed on the right of the diagram, where the dis-
tinct media platforms are represented according to a calibrated scale of
openness to user participationfor example, limited involvement in the
commissioning of Mute Books, but a goal of participation in the editing
and administration of Metamuteand this changing according to the
progression of time.
Moving around the remainder of the minifesto, the bottom left quad-
rant (A) sets out the magazines principal research interests and critical
orientations. In our now near-complete plotting of Mutes diagrammatic
form, we can take these to be itemized expressions of the magazines
abstract formula, what I outlined earlier as its immersive and self-critical
fascination with technosocial flesh, which is at one and the same time
its insistence on the nonidentitarian critique of capital. This abstract
formulawhich at the blind and mute level of the diagram is not yet
differentiated into media form and textual contentpasses through each
and every point of the magazines platforms or assemblages as something
like Mutes dynamic equilibrium. And last, to the right of quadrant (A) is a
selection of other vortexlike organizations with which the magazine is in
intellectual and practical exchange, both extending its reach and further
displacing its center through relations of collaboration.
The minifesto is, then, a visual diagram of Mutes diagrammatic pub-
lishing, a particular and operational instance of magazine immanence.
The point now and for the remainder of the chapter is to consider how
this diagrammatic form is manifest in concrete specificity. My account is
not intended to be totalizingthat would run counter to the unfinished
virtuality of the diagram as visual model and sociomaterial process
but rather is a sampling of key dimensions and features. Each feature I
discuss is a concrete articulation of Mutes diagrammatic publishing as
it is manifest in specific aspects of the magazine and in relation to par-
ticular political problematics, problematics that are associated with these
specific aspects and are, in this, also those of Mutes self-differing flesh
more broadly conceived. The first two sections, on Mutes website and its
POD quarterly, focus primarily on particular platforms. After that, the

discussion considers dimensions of the magazines diagrammatic form
that pertain to the magazine as a whole, some of which are explored in
relation to specific technological mechanisms, such as the affordances of
distributed media or the tag capacity, whereas others are discussed in
more abstract terms, such as its mode of editorial voice. Let me stress that
all of the platforms and publishing problematics that I discuss here have
their own particular qualities and effects, which push and pull in various
discontinuous directions such that the diagrammatic aggregate is more a
broken bricolage than a mushy whole.
Inoperative Public: Metamute,

OpenMute, User Participation
Of the different media platforms that compose Mutes publishing cluster

(as listed previously), I will focus primarily on Metamute, OpenMute, and,
in the subsequent section, the POD quarterly. Running on the open source
content management system Drupal, Metamute moved from an adjunct
to the printed magazine to become the editorial engine of Mute content
as a whole, working in concert with the other platforms of its publishing
cluster.48 As one might expect, given the distributive capacities of digital
and online media, Metamute has been a significant vehicle for Mutes
vortexlike opening to a more participatory publishing modelthrough
the comment function, news sections, blog imports, and the submission
of more substantial user contributions, including artworks. Participation,
here, is presented in the text of the minifestos as a non-vampiric set
of relationships where a network of readers, contributors and editors
starts to co-determine the publishing process.49 It could sound like a
new media clich, except that this assertion sits amid an array of reflexive
assessments (in the minifestos and elsewhere) of the complex pattern of
participation that can emerge and follows a keen sense that participation
is a fraught and contradictory process rather than a self-evident good that
requires merely a technical fix.
In certain instances, most notably around J.J. Charlesworths criti-
cal expos of the neoliberal arts agendas and governance structures of
Londons Institute of Contemporary Arts, Metamute has succeeded
in weaving distributed user-generated contentfrom various sites and

political positions, in assorted textual modes, and at different institutional
scaleswith top-down editorial commissioning and research-based writ-
ing.50 And yet this participation has been at best fitful, especially when
contrasted to the high volume of Metamutes traffic (averaging 12,500
unique visitors per month in 201314). The significant feature of Mutes
intervention in the terrain of participation is located elsewherefirst,
in the magazines reflexive and critical relationship to the discourses
of participation and the public and, second, in its practical orientation
toward the technologies and paradigms of small-scale publishing, both
of which I consider here.
There has been a strong tendency in contemporary discourses of media
decentralization and participation to treat them solely as issues of technol-
ogy and to sideline the socioeconomic relations within which digital and
networked media are embedded, what Mute, in the accompanying docu-
ment to the second minifesto, calls the mode of...social inscription.51
When attention is paid to the social inscription of participatory media,
one sees how its apparently democratic features can actually serve to mask
and entrench inequalities of access and power, for user participation and
its discourses of empowerment are in fact central to the emerging busi-
ness paradigms and valued subjective dispositions of commercial media.
Mute was an early critic of what is now a commonly recognized condition:
that participation and decentralization function in Web 2.0 social media
as a source of accumulation and control, as public production is incited,
channeled, formatted, data mined, and monetized for private gain.52 Mute
was thus clear in its minifestos, at the same moment that it opened to a
more participatory paradigm, that decentralisation for its own sake
or, worse, for the sake of product expansionis one of the most suspect
phenomena to have emerged in online culture.53 Mute resisted such
tendencies by displacing the problem of participation from an exclusive
concern with expanding the field of user-generated content onto a broad
critical assessment of relations between the magazine and its readership,
and in a manner that sought to transform both terms.
The resolute criticality of Mutes engagement with fledgling and now
full-blown digital media scenes has meant that it has tended to repel, as
much as attract, its potential readership, so warding off the identitarian
closure attendant on efforts to construct and mirror a delineated audience

or market niche. Van Mourik Broekman reflects, At the point this seemed
a distinct possibility (around 1998/99) we were loathe to turn Mute into a
kind of sector journal servicing the needs of a nascent art-and-technology/
digital-art/new-media community.54 There is a similar problematization
of the broader figure of the public. Mutes default understanding of the
capitalist structure of social relations is of course contrary to the notion
of a generic public that preexists its construction in any one (more or
less exploitative and exclusionary) social configurationnation, citizen,
local community, and so on. The destructive deployment of the trope
of the public in speculative urban development has, for example, been a
long-standing interest of the magazine, of which Laura Oldfield Fords
pithy formulation of its art modality is indicative: public art, as we think
of the term since the 80s, seems to be about making colonial totems that
say, its ok, weve tamed the natives, its safe to come in.55
We can say, then, with Jean-Luc Nancy, that there is an inoperative
quality to Mutes understanding of its public, readership, or community,
where community, in Nancys terms, is constituted in self-critical exposure
to its limits, its outside, to what it is not: the socially exposed particu-
larity that undoes the socially imploded generality of community in
its identitarian mode.56 To this Mute adds in something of communitys
affective fault line. Mutes inoperative community is not that attraction to
the same, which drives the like function of Facebook and is coded into
Googles search algorithms, but a connection-engine with strangers,
as van Mourik Broekman describes it.57 It is not just about recognizing
and being semi-narcissistically drawn to an image of oneself, ones own
subjectivity and proclivities, but is an experience of alien ideas that are
nonetheless compelling, troubling, or intriguing and that attract people
into the reader-and potentially even contributor-circle, a connection-
engine [that] draws people in, propels people out, in a continual, dynamic
process, which, due to its intensity, very effectively blurs the lines of
professionalism, friendship, editorial, social, political praxis.58
To be clear, this inoperative orientation is as much a critique of the
notion of a counter-public. On this front, Mute has engaged significantly
with radical trends in open organizations, at once embracing horizontal
and collaborative modes of organization while challenging their tendencies

to nurture informal hierarchies and cloak the predicating inequities of the
wider environment in which [an organization] is situated, as J.J. King ar-
gues, much as Jo Freemans essay The Tyranny of Structurelessness did
for the libertarian politics of the 1970s, though now with special attention
to the digital media environment, open source communities, enterprise
culture, and the affective and linguistic qualities of political association.59
However, all this critique of participation, public, and counterpublic by
no means absolves the magazine of the need to address the practicalities of
association, for it has made intriguing moves toward a model of the public
adequate to its diagrammatic form. OpenMute is especially interesting in
this regard, a network resources project that was established to provide
Web tools, training, and publishing resources to cultural and community
groups at low or no cost.60 A project that began with Mutes efforts to share
its own experience of automating its Web publishing activity, OpenMute
displays again the magazines centrifugal practice of pushing outward
its internal organizational dynamics and capacities into the wider social
arena, now to the extent of them becoming public resource.61 Crucially,
the public domain is posed here not as a distinct social body but rather
as a question of infrastructure, of public knowledge architectures.62 So
framed, Mutes formulation of public participation is an attempt to breach
the divide between the often utopian political claims for digital publishing
and the less impressive reality of its use, given the common skills gap and
financial constraint that prevent marginalized groups from full utilization
of open source and other Web and e-publishing tools.
These aspects of OpenMute coalesced into a distinct Technology
stream of the magazine and its consultancy work, where a core focus has
been the development of open source and e-publishing tools and initiatives
to aid small publishers and independent arts organizations. The driving
problematic is apparent in Worthingtons assertion that the interesting
questions about the future of the book concern not the tired clich of
whether books are an endangered species but the composition of the
publishing marketirrespective of whether that is for digital or print,
where fantasies of democratic user participation disguise the consolida-
tion of media monopolies and small publishers face prohibitive barriers
to financially viable production and distribution in e-publishing environ-

ments.63 To meet this problem, Worthingtons Mute-developed Progressive
Publishing System, for instance, was an experimental software engine for
the easy conversion of published materials across POD, short-run press,
e-book, mobile, and tablet platforms, aiming to circumvent the prohibi-
tive barriers to production and distribution that are so debilitating for
small publishers.64 It is a project that has since fed into his research on
open source publishing infrastructures at the Hybrid Publishing Lab at
Lneburgs Leuphana University.65
The Aesthetics of Print on Demand
I want at this stage to bring in the print product of Mutes diagrammatic

form and therein open to more discussion of the place of art and design,
concentrating on the POD quarterly booklet that ran to seventeen issues
between 2005 and 2010. Known as Volume 2 to mark the extent of the
departure from previous formats, the POD booklet arose as a solution to
two problems that burdened Mute at the time of its move toward hybrid
publishing. First, POD helped overcome a persistent Webprint dichotomy
in Mutes publishing practice, offering a platform that is something of a
hybrid of print and digital technologies, a clear instance of post-digital
publishing.66 Flexible and cheap, POD is a publishing platform somewhat
in the mode of the post-Fordist mainstay of just-in-time production. It
combines high-speed photostatic print with perfect-bound full-color
covers in book editions of any size, from one copy upward: a point of
considerable contrast to Mutes broadsheet format, where the minimum
print run had been ten thousand.67 POD allowed Mute to spread the costs
of printing, so drawing expenditure and revenue into greater sync, and to
distribute production to global locations closer to points of purchase so
as to reduce shipping costs. It also held the promise of a large degree of
automation in the publishing process, with design and content manage-
ment tools enabling easy to-and-fro movement between Web and print
platforms (a platform convergence capacity that OpenMute has tested
through its speculative initiatives, such as Progressive Publishing System,
as aforementioned, and the Web2POD tool, for collating and outputting
personalized article collections). These are all significant developments

in the economic struggles of small publishers.
The second problem addressed by the POD quarterly concerned a
growing imbalance in the relative emphasis the magazine placed on its
media form as against its contentthe coming apart of this precarious
interrelation. The product of POD technology in Volume 2 is a rather
stripped-down printed object; it has a simplicity and sobriety that
could not be more different from the pinnacle of print luxuriousness
that was the immediate print predecessor of Mute 2529.68 It is true, the
magazine at that time was a beautiful print artifact, with, among other
features, its experiment in high-absorbency art paper (which required
drying out for days after printing, indicative of Mutes difficulties at this
time) and the free rein the format gave to Mutes taste for cartographic
visual technique, experiment with page design, and the interplay of image
and text. It is the smell of the magazines paper stock that marks the rar-
ity of Mute in that period, considerably more evocative of the alchemy of
ink and paper than any commercial book. But the magazines immersion
in design is probably best illustrated by the cover of Mute 29, where the
feature themes of oil, war, and finance are synthesized in spectral images
produced by pouring molasses on a scanner bed, which was then backed
with silver foil to drive an intense reflection through the molasses and so
produce an eerie, oil-like quality.69
These numbers of Mute were high-end designs last stand, as the
editors later reflected.70 By contrast, the POD quarterly could be seen as
a marked failure, given, as I have been arguing, that a heightened sense
of experiment with magazine format and design has been a fundamental
characteristic of Mute since its inception.71 Yet high-end magazine aesthet-
ics can tip the subtle relation between form and content out of balance, as
a format-fetishism, in Mutes assessment of the problem, comes to task
the medium alone with the magazines political agendas.72 By the time
of Mute 29, certain format and design preferences had indeed gained an
agential autonomy that risked distorting the magazine as a whole, burden-
ing its precarious form with the unsustainable labor-and design-intensive
values of the coffee-table format. POD enabled a rebalancing, but unlike
its use in commercial publishing, where it is merely an economy, a poor
imitation of offset lithography, in Mute, the properties of POD were taken

up in its self-differing orientation toward design.
To some extent, the design focus of Volume 2 shifts from the visual
form of the magazine page to the design of Web, e-pub, and software
facilitiesthe latter, in Progressive Publishing System, for instance, has
a clear aesthetic dimensionbut that is not the only story. However
much Mute by issue 29 had come to be an extraordinarily beautiful print
artifact, as the POD quarterly pushed at the limits of Webprint hybrid-
ity, it handled a more diagrammatic aesthetic than its print predecessor,
more immersed in the sociomaterial flesh of publishing. The quarterlys
strange and seductive combination of book format and magazine page
structure contains echoes of the Xerox styling of 1970s self-publishing,
with its stark photostatic ink, simple line drawings and vector graphics,
and pared-back urban and landscape photography, most effectively seen in
the full-bleed, double-page spreads that can give a rather haunting aspect
to the booklet, notably in Pam Worthingtons image (in the first POD
issue) of Morecambe Bay, site of the death of nineteen Chinese cockle
pickers in 2004. But this is less a retro repetition of past visual forms
than an aesthetic product of the sociotechnical relations of post-digital
publishing, as the benefits of decentralization, automation, and low cost
that came with the photocopier are found again in the unique capacities
of a new print medium.73
With the POD quarterly, Mute continued the practice of commission-
ing new artwork for each issue. The Living in a Bubble: Credit, Debt and
Crisis issue (which, with impeccable timing, was published in September
2007, just as the banks liquidity troubles tipped into full-blown economic
crisis) included a number of artworks on the issue theme solicited from an
open call to readers, so posing the problem and possibility of nontextual
modes of representation of that which is so difficult to cognitively map.
But perhaps the most successfully realized of the commissioned works in
Volume 2 is David Osbaldestons Out of Time in number 13, for it takes
advantage, in the manner of an artists book, of the structure of the POD
booklet. Here press photographs of iconic world eventsthe 1992 LA
riots, the Iraq 1991 Highway of Death, among othersare combined
with text cutouts and dates in degraded, rephotographed images. The effect
is to problematize the tendency of such images to take on a life of their

own, as they now circulate in the booklets in a reified and desolate state.
There is something also rather singular to the POD cover design
(Plate 12). Prior to the adoption of this format, Mute had often toyed with
the design conventions of lifestyle publishing, especially in its period as
a saddle-stitched magazine. The experimental fashion photography of
Richard Dawsons Shelf Life series is a case in point, a remarkable set
of variously humorous and unsettling images and scenarios that both
convey and trouble the stylistic repertoires that might be encountered
in an edgy commercial fashion magazine, the uncanny effect of these
images accentuated by their somewhat incongruous presence in a maga-
zine with anticapitalist orientations. Another example is Mutes teasing
approach to the convention of ensuring consumer attraction by adorning
the magazine cover with a face, here with the decidedly non-individual
faces of a Borg, Furby, or clip-art businessman.74 The glossy magazine also
made use of the advertising facility of the insert (which provides publish-
ers with additional page space at a fraction of the cost of bound pages) to
publish not adverts but artworks, or artworks on the back of adverts
Mutes Metamap (insert to Mute 21) is a case in point, a vast cartography
of global communications surveillance modeled on Buckminster Fullers
Dymaxion Map. But in leaving the glossy magazine format behind, and
so no longer dependent on consumer seduction via the newsstand shelf
(where want of a more appropriate marketing category had Mute placed
somewhat incongruously in mens lifestyle), the POD quarterly freed
up Mutes experimental attitude, allowing for increasingly baroque
and stylistically eclectic covers that encompassed, among other things,
ad-busting, artists commissions, and neo-Dada collages.75
These brief comments on the design and art content of Volume 2 touch
a point of (not unproductive) tension in Mutes publishing practice. The
magazines movement over time toward a more concerted intervention in
the broad sociopolitical terrain of neoliberal culture has been perceived by
some, including its longtime part-funder Arts Council England (ACE), as
a disquieting departure from its core remit, while other more recent read-
ers from activist circles sometimes challenged the magazine for failing to
maintain an overtly political focus. The problem with these criticisms is
that they miss the distinctive nature of Mute as a hybrid site of conjunction,
where perceptual and intellectual repertoires and orientations derived
from art and politics brush up against each other in an open and critical
space that resists collapsing the two together. It is notable, in this regard,
that Mutes particular conjunction of art and politics is quite different
from what we might call the activist aesthetic that emerged with the
alter-globalization movements of the 1990s. Though certainly making good
use of agitprop traditionswitness the Mute-commissioned flyposters
from We Are Bad that opposed the class-cleansing urban effects of the
London 2012 Olympicsthe magazine maintains a commitment to the
capacities of art to have transformative effects particular to its own forms
and structures of composition, with regard to sensory affect, aesthetic
autonomy, open composition, and so on.76 Howard Slaters Mute essay on
Ghdalia Tazarts is a striking illustration, with its evocative encounter
with the timbres, local affects, temporal thickness, and lessness of a
musician who invites the listener into a dislocation of the unified self with
personified emotions made dissemblingly sonorous.77 One might even
go so far as to suggest that it is in these kinds of works that Mute locates
the true politics of aesthetics, given the instrumentalization of engaged
art that the magazine has so carefully tracked.
Distributed Commissioning
If the low-intensity participation of user comments proved to be rela-

tively inconsequential to Mute, the magazines commissioning practices
have enabled its immanent relation with its environment to proceed
with considerably more success. Mute has gathered a number of regular
contributors more or less closely associated with the editorial group, but
the vast majority of its content is commissioned from new or occasional
writers. The commissioning structure has two main aspects. First, it is
dependent on an immersion in distributed communication networks.
Web-based mailing lists have been central, as Berry Slater explains: for
a long time Nettime supplied a large proportion of our writers. So were
on the list, we might be participating, we might be lurking, but were
logging, you know, voices and research agendas and so on.78 Second,
such everyday tracking of communication networks is complemented by

the effect of atypical events (for instance, the 2008 financial crisis or the
201011 U.K. movements against student fees and austerity) that throw up
fresh and various sets of writers as they allow the magazine to encounter
a new density of social relations: then there are also these wonderful,
kind of, events that come down and you dont see happening, and that
really alter things again.79
This commissioning structure brings into view a dimension of Mutes
diagrammatic form that is not so clearly rendered in the minifestos. If
the writing in Mute-as-vortex is, in this way, a product of distributed
networks and events, then it is less an entity located in one placethe
impression that one could gain from the minifestos representation of the
single vortexthan a process that occurs across social space. It is this that
lends Mute the quality of being ever-decentered that is key to Deleuze and
Guattaris metaphor of immanent publishing, the single page. I noted
that this page was a broken field of composition; we can now see a
practical way in which that is so. Insofar as the magazine comprises such
distributed commissioning, it is a decentered and fragmented entity that
emerges concurrently at each of the sites where contributor, writing, and
publishing platform come into encounter.
Mutes distributed commissioning impacts also on the mode of au-
thorship of the magazines writers. Mute takes some pride in assembling
content from an eclectic mix of artists, cultural workers, data programmers,
activists, academics, research students, musicians, independent research-
ers, novelists, and others, in various combinations, who are not confined
to a particular sector or school, nor chosen by an abstract specialism in
writing, but are selected by the adequacy of their relation to the problem
or event at issue. There is a certain impersonalism at play, then, where the
site and source of expression are shifted from the self-expressive subject
to an individuals particular and temporary condition amid mutable social
relations. This tendency toward distributed authorship is not to say that
Mute is a fully inclusive global forum. In its content, the magazine has
made significant interventions in critique of the racialized, gendered,
and classed patterning of violence and exploitation in global regimes of
production, consumption, and control, but the makeup of its contributing
writers has continued to be predominantly first world. Nonetheless, in

Mutes awareness of the barriers to participation (where, as numerous
articles have investigated, racialization, gender, and class are interlaced
with constraints that are territorial, legal, linguistic, technological, and
financial), one can again observe the magazines self-critical sensibility,
its refusal to accrue satisfactions of identity from its current media form.
The significance of this kind of distributed commissioning was noted
as early as 1921 by the Hungarian communist Adalbert Fogarasi, whose
argument helps bring into view its political dimensions. For Fogarasi, the
communist press needed not only to distribute communist content but
to challenge the capitalist press in its form also.80 Similarly to Mute, the
promise of such intervention in publishing form was an immanent rela-
tion to social events, a relation that could undo the bar between reader
and writer:
Getting the readers to work with the press is a crucial means in this regard.
The reports written by workers on events in the plants which are pub-
lished in Ordine Nuovo (The New Order, the Italian communist paper
edited by Antonio Gramsci) represent a successful effort at transcending
the untenable distance between communist reader and writer, or at least
occasionally reversing the roles.81
This has obvious benefits for workers education, political empowerment,

and the emergence of collective enunciation, but Fogarasi understood its
role also as a move toward overcoming the specialist role of the journalist,
an alienated personification of abstract labor, in this respect just like any
other form of capitalist work:
It is not the [journalists] who have produced the capitalist press, but the
other way round....Just as capitalist production transforms the workers
into simple accoutrements of the products of their labor, into mere things,
so the press transforms the journalists....The journalist is a specialist
with unique qualifications. These do not consist in special knowledge in
a specific, substantive realm of human intelligence and ability, but in the
ability to write about anything. Under the journalists pen theories, facts,
opinions, counter-opinions, and news are transformed into an undiffer-
entiated mass of printed matter....The laws of reification insure that the
journalist himself, as a simple personification of journalism, follows the

laws, carries out his functions mechanically and unconsciously. Under
his pen every intelligible structure is remade into a commodity.82
A century on, we now know that the commercial paradigms and narcissistic
compulsions of social media trouble any neat notion that the breakdown
of the division between reader and writer has an inherently progressive
orientation. But that by no means invalidates Fogarasis impulse toward
critique of the commodity form of the specialist writer and her textual
product or the importance of contemporary intervention on this front.
In Mutes case, distributed commissioning is an effort toward remodel-
ing the form of the magazine writer through critical appropriation of the
decentralizing capacities of online media, not a surrender of the magazine
to the dominant commercial structures of the latter.
Free Indirect Editorial
There is an impersonalism also in Mutes diagrammatic approach to

editorial. The point of Mutes distributed commissioning is not, as in the
Web 2.0 model of user-generated content, to abdicate editorial control
but to interlace distributed commissioning with editorial intervention,
an approach that the minifestos call hybrid editorial. To come to an
appreciation of the nature and novelty of this form, it is instructive to
contrast it to Lenins canonical formulation of political editorial in What
Is to Be Done? Here Lenin accords the party newspaper a singular political
significance, as the preeminent means of generating and training party
organization and inculcating political consciousness and will. As such,
paper work is political work, of which the key function is to convey the
partys design, dimensions and character and to inculcate a complete
and all-embracing line.83 Here editorial voice has a structural resem-
blance to the centralized, integrated, and hierarchically ordered form of
the Leninist party, with its Taylorist structure of governance, the split
between management and execution whereby consciousness is introduced
to the workers from the party center. There are no doubt also structural
resemblances and some common cause between centralized editorial
and the formal features and industrial paradigms of the print newspaper
more generally, such that (recalling my discussion of Debray in chapter
1) class structure, organizational form, and editorial voice were held
together in a mutually sustaining media ecology. As I have remarked
already, the time of this media ecology is over; regardless of ones views
of the Leninist publishing model, the demise of the workers movement,
class fragmentation, and the prosumer capacities of distributed media
and user-generated content are such that it would be a delusion to think
that the Leninist media form could be potentialized today.
This is not to say, however, that there is no place for strong editorial
voice. We must ask, then, what might a diagrammatic editorial paradigm
look like, one that no longer seeks to be the external projection of a cen-
tralized party line but has, instead, a distributed and emergent quality?
Mutes experience helps tease out an answer. Van Mourik Broekman
comments that changes in the editorial board, development of editors
interests, and their more and less subtle differences of political position
are such that both across time and in time, there is no unitary, col-
lective voice to the magazine.84 And yet there are clearly regularities
or consistencies to Mutes positions, something of a critical orientation or
voice of sorts, and the magazine certainly makes no claim to be a transpar-
ent channel for the voices of the social world: any notion of unmediated
editorial contact with a sort of virgin non-local voice must continue to
be regarded as another (colonialist?) phantasm....(The figure of the lone
Third World or conflict zone blogger that is a firm favourite of the UK
press comes to mind here.)85
Neither unitary nor unmediated, then, Mutes editorial voice is instead
a product of the magazines weave of voices over time and space. It is con-
stituted not only of the similar and different interests, relations, and biog-
raphies of the editorial groupas fashioned in their editorial LISTSERVs
and biannual meetingsbut also of the contributors that the magazine
channels, the events with which it becomes associated, and the projec-
tions and associations that readers bring to the magazine, for the edito-
rial voice exists as much in the imaginations of its readers as it does in
the magazines pages. It is, in other words, a voice of the magazine itself,
which, drawing from Maurice Blanchots reflections on the collective and
volitional capacities of magazine form, has an intermediary status.86

This is not simply an amalgam of parts; the point I wish to make is that
as the magazines editorial voice emerges across its constituent parties,
it has a quasi-autonomous existence. Indications of this condition can be
detected in Berry Slaters reflections on the theme, where she introduces
the intriguing notion that editorial voice can operate against the will of
the editorial board: We have a really complicated relationship to that
voice. It sometimes happens against our will, sometimes its consciously
driven, and sometimes its held up in an accusatory mannerHow can
Mute think or do such a thing?as if Mute were some kind of unified
entity, an editorial brain.87 Displaced from any one subject position, the
editorial voice takes on a life of its own, with a character close to Deleuzes
notion of free indirect discourse, a discourse dislodged from any one
speaking subject that hence carries a desubjectified, somewhat uncanny
quality.88 To adapt Deleuzes words to our context, the model we have
here is of the magazines editorial voice as monster, it has a life of its
own: an image that is always stitched together, patched up, continually
growing along the way.89
I will avoid preempting the fuller discussion of free indirect discourse
that I undertake in chapter 6, but what is important about this concept
here is that free indirect discourse has a volitional or catalytic capacity.
A product of the multiple voices that compose it, free indirect discourse,
in its quasi-autonomous condition, reacts back upon them to become a
cause, as it draws out or induces associations, affects, ideas, and critical
orientations from its milieu. This catalytic quality can be clarified with
reference to a concept with closer proximity to our topic. In the in-
stitutional psychotherapy practiced by Jean Oury and Guattari at the
psychiatric clinic La Borde, a central role was taken by the collective
production and publication of journals, not merely as a matter of linguistic
expression but as a means of assembling diverse componentssemiotic,
affective, practical, technologicalin an entity that was at once product
and catalyst of institutional practice, self-critique, and therapy, where, in
Gary Genoskos words, the institution is in part a product of a journals
collective elaboration and refinement over time.90 This model breaks with
the therapeutic dyad of analyst and analysand by enabling the journal itself
to function as a mediating third object or transversal tool, as Genosko

describes it. Writing and being read, editing, printing and the enchantment
of the print product, allocating and reordering tasks, distribution, and so
forth, all become immanent to the testing and refashioning of individual
and collective subjectivity.91 No doubt Mutes editorial board would have
things to say about the place of this magazine in their psychosocial and
institutional relations, but my point is that something of the volitional
effects of the third object will feature in the broader milieu of read-
ers, writers, and participants who find themselves taken up in intensive
relations with Mutes voice, however fleeting or occasional these may be.
Judged by Lenins criteria of socialist editorial, that it inculcates and
projects an all-embracing political line, such an unfettered or monstrous
editorial will appear wanting. But for a magazine constituted of a vortex-
like weave of contributors and events in opposition to a delineated subject
or political line, this quasi-autonomous editorial voice is an indication of
the vitality of the magazine, as an overdetermined, precarious, and yet
agential collective enunciation. The role of the editorial group and its
other contributors is to nurture the quasi-autonomous voice, to contribute
to the quality of its critical interventions and aggregations, but also to be
dazzled by it, to be taken unawares and swept up in its movement. No
doubt, free indirect editorial will sometimes go awry, lose its critical edge
or its aggregating and volitional powers, but as it operates at and on the
limits of collective identity, this is the necessary wager of monstrosity,
its lurching and fitful quality an indication of open, diagrammatic form.
Magazine Time and the Archive
I have thus far approached Mutes diagrammatic publishing in predomi-

nantly spatial terms, but the magazine also has a significant temporal
dimension. Periodicity is of course an intrinsic feature of the modern
political newspaper and magazine, orchestrating the time of writing, the
labor of production, and the patterns of consumption, just as these in
turn impart a temporal pacing to the generation and circulation of po-
litical ideas. It is in reference to this temporal structure that Mute, with
all its anomalous qualities, could most convincingly ground its claim to
be a magazine, albeit that the regularity of the print product has been
somewhat elastic: initially a quarterly, a one-year period of the saddle-
stitched magazine reached a six-issue target, while in its coffee-table
format, it slowed to a biannual. This elasticity has a certain appeal as an
aspect of Mutes self-differing sensibility, but there is no great challenge
here to the formal structure of publishing periodicity, which subsumes
the complexities and conflicts of social experience in the steady onward
clocking of homogenous, empty time, as Benedict Anderson writes of
the daily newspaper.92 There is, however, a more profound and critical
temporal dimension to Mute, as can be developed from the way that time
is inflected in the magazines different platforms.
Mutes diagrammatic cluster holds together both fast and slow
publishing platforms.93 Metamute allows for turnaround from commis-
sioning to publication in sometimes as little as two weeks, producing a
stream of content, in Worthingtons description, as compared to up to
six months with the coffee-table format, where articles were banked
for simultaneous release, and the POD quarterly, where a selection of
online articles were collected around an editorial theme.94 The benefits
Web publishing provides of fast responsiveness to events are obvious, but
in this mix of fast and slow, speed is not given absolute priority. Though
Mutes distributed commissioning has shown a tenacious ability to stay at
the leading edge of cultural and political events, the magazines singularity
lies elsewhere, as can be discerned from this comment by Berry Slater:
We dont have the resources to be the first at the scene of the crimewe
dont have that kind of facility. What we can do is to come at something
with an analysis that tries to shape the thing harder, or drive further under
the surface of appearances of what is happening. And maybe thats the
sort of thing that we do slightly pride ourselves on, and the ability also
to be long range. I think the pieces that weve published by people like
Anthony Davies on the neoliberalisation of culture in cultural institutions,
for example, are almost future-casting.95
This formulation of critically shaping the world can be productively

approached through the theme of time, where it is possible to discern a
temporal sensibility of a Bergsonian kind, picking up on a point I made in
a different context in chapter 4. Unlike simple forms of life that react to

perception with immediate action, in complex nervous systems, a pause
or rifta zone of indeterminationis inserted between perception
and reaction as perception forces a recall of memory, of past percep-
tions, which combine with the current perception to modulate action.
Thought and action hence no longer react automatically to stimulation,
so reproducing the past, but combine with these past perceptions so as
to act differently, to open up new dimensions in the future.96 It is not an
overly metaphorical reading of this formulation to suggest that a political
magazine operates in much the same way. The magazine is a forum, a zone
of indetermination, where perception of the world is channeled through
political memorymemory of the contributing author, of the reader, of
the magazines archivein writing that critically shapes that perception
and wrenches it from the narrow frameworks and automatic responses of
the immediate present. In this way, the magazines politicizing content
(as with Negris account of Futur Antrieur, Mutes driving force) carries
and imparts a polytemporality, and one with an orientation toward the
new. It is a temporality that operates in the midst of, and in opposition
to, the flattened temporal structure of contemporary capitalism, with its
obsession with immediacy and the nowa structure that, for all its
apparent modernity, actually impedes the truly new, for it isolates the
present from the resources necessary to open it to anything other than a
repetition of the same, a tautological manoeuvre whereby what is already
present is endlessly represented because it is already present, as Berry
Slater describes it.97
Yet memory is not in itself enough to enable critical intervention in
temporal form, for it can have a decidedly conservative function, swamp-
ing the current perception with the past. Bergson continues: With the
immediate and present data of our senses, we mingle a thousand details
out of our past experience. In most cases these memories supplant our
actual perceptions, of which we then retain only a few hints, thus using
them merely as signs that recall to us former images.98 This possibil-
ity is apparent in van Mourik Broekmans remark about the risk of an
elephantine memory problem, where the editorial voice, political orien-
tations, or aesthetic styles of Mute can be constrained by the magazines
sediment of history.99 If Mute is to stay vital, then, the archive must

itself be treated as an arena of the magazines self-critique and structural
remodeling, a practice that is exemplified by the difference between
Mutes two anthologies. These books register the publishing transforma-
tion of Volume 2. One book, Mute Magazine Graphic Design, assembles
the magazines image, page, and graphic design, along with an extensive
history of Mutes publishing models, while the other, Proud to Be Flesh,
compiles eighty-one articles from the magazines history (a stock of six
thousand plus), each stripped of images and overt design features. At
close to six hundred pages, Proud to Be Flesh is a hulk of a book, with an
austerity that its sumptuous covers and glossy inserts only confirm by
their stark contrast with all those words. And yet it is this anthology that
is the truly inventive of the two. Mute Magazine Graphic Design has the air
of a swan song to Mute as a lavish print work, whereas Proud to Be Flesh is
fully part of Mutes diagrammatic form, where it serves as something of an
agential object in its own right. As van Mourik Broekman and Worthington
stress in the foreword, the book is not a conventional anthology, a Best
of Mute, but a critical working on the archive. It treats the entire back
catalogue of Mute as its critical arena, putting accumulated text back into
motion, drawing out the editorial themes that have crystallized from
the magazines multiple voices, and projecting possible routes of future
inquiry.100 With this crystallizing aim, it is fitting that Proud to Be Flesh
takes the form of a dense and compact book, a media object tangential
to Mutes flatter, more magazine-like platforms, in relation to which the
book works as a condensing and refracting agent.
Proud to Be Flesh was compiled by Mutes editorial group; a second
initiative toward revitalizing Mutes archive placed more emphasis on the
participation of the user. A significant feature of the Metamute rationale
has been maximization of the data storage and retrieval capacities of the
Web so that it can transform the archive sedimented in linear fashionthe
strata, if you will, of magazine issuesinto a more horizontal or imma-
nent plane, a disaggregated data set ever leaning into the present. Using
three hundred plus tags, users can assemble multiple pathways through
Metamute on topics ranging from sound art to oil and border activism.
The promise of this and related metadata functions is that Metamute can
act not only as a medium of the now, as is the shrill rhetoric accompa-
nying the field of publishing under the shadow of social media, but as a
membrane that multiplies the critical resources of the past in the present
toward an expanded future.
Document, Fragment, Fallout
It would be a great mistake to think that Mutes diagrammatic form co-

heres in an integrated and smooth-running publishing entity, to allow the
modeling of the minifestosor, indeed, the mapping undertaken in this
chapterto produce retroactive effects of unity on what is in fact a highly
contingent and unstable entity. As a product of numerous and different
contents and forms with competing agential valences, Mutes continuity
and relative coherence are only just achieved, and only then in a fashion
characterized as much by false starts and loose ends as by publishing
achievementsand so we encounter a second instance of the broken
quality of Mutes magazine immanence. This makes logical sense; if an
entity is constituted on the many horizons of its outside, immersed in
the flesh of the social field, it is necessarily subject to disruptions and
changes in that field. What is enticing about the diagram and assemblage
as concepts and forms in this context is that they bring such contingent
and broken composition into the foreground as a principal dynamic, where,
as Deleuze and Guattari put it, they work only when they break down,
and by continually breaking down.101
The six major transformations of Mutes publishing model illustrate
this, with each remodeling more or less the result of a particular problem,
event, or contingent encounter rather than some unfurling of a publishing
teleology. The point is casually made in the comment that it was only a
small and seemingly incidental experiment with POD technology that
brought it into view as a possible solution to the problem of a Web
print dichotomy.102 And this dimension of diagrammatic publishing is not
only expressed in such points of major transformation; it also inheres in
Mutes everyday functioning, where the magazines vortexlike opening
out of its internal structures is accompanied by a deliberate attention to,
and foregrounding of, its fringes, failures, and long tail.
This is most apparent in Mutes approach to documentation, where

documents serve to hold the groping and fragmentary developments of
the magazines publishing models on its public surface. This is of course
true of the minifestos, which emerged as an attempt to publicly document
Mutes efforts at transforming its publishing paradigm (a move that was
prompted, appropriately, not by the editorial board but by a reader of the
magazine).103 If these are self-problematizing documents, as I have argued,
they are also accounts of blockage and breakdown. Van Mourik Broekman
notes that The Magazine which Mistook Its Reader for a Hat, is the story
of what happened when this promise [of the first minifesto, Ceci nest
pas un magazine] meets the harsh realities of the material world, where
resources, time and human behaviour cause things to slow down, or not
work.104 And yet these documents of breakdown and transformation
have also passed a threshold to become achieved aesthetic works, central
instances of the magazines published form. Hence we need examples
that are closer to the unfinished, working quality of documentation.
One of these is an early set of speculative consultancy documents by
Saul Albert on the possible development of a Metamute Collaborative
Review Library. These allowed interested parties to observe, online,
Mute probing the publishing potential of such sociotechnical entities as
trackbacks, social bookmarking, cross-publication strategies, wikis, barter
schemes, micropayment structures, and so on, in a project that was itself
concerned in part with documenting Mutes transition to open source.105
More recently, Mutes interventions in the field of publishing technology
find documentary articulation in an R&D section of the Metamute web
pages, open for perusal, beta phase testing, and participation by readers
of the magazine.
Such foregrounding of the magazines fringes and margins has even
taken the form of a work of commissioned art. The collaborative sound
project Fallout (19992001) that Mute undertook with the artist Kate
Rich had as its very object the excluded fragments of publishing practice:
the fertile material of the office conversations, ambient sounds and
surplus interview material that get excised in the production of a print
magazine.106 Released online over the works duration and then included
as an audio CD with Mute 21, three tracks are especially noteworthy: sound
clips of an interview with the systems artist Steven Willats, an interview

previously published as King of Code in Mute 17. In this part of Fallout,
the listener does not so much encounter an audio version of the interview
as a breakdown in conversation, an interview going wrong, and in a way that
not only foregrounds the margins of the otherwise neatly fashioned and
contained printed interview but also reveals something of its suppressed
content. For the breakdown arises in large measure from dispute between
interviewers and interviewee about the liberal assumptions inherent to
systems theory and its model of consensus, that from which the artist
makes his work. What is experienced, then, is a piece of fallout reacting
back on the published interview to bring a new entity into view, an entity
that in its breakdown performs the conflictual and overdetermined nature
of all systems, including the system of the magazine interview itself.
Choreography of Commerce
It may come as a surprise that Mutes editorial group has been explicit
in describing the magazine as a business, since the cultivation of anti-
business organizational forms has been a long-standing sine qua non for
political publishing projects. The latter orientation is not without prob-
lems, in recognition of and response to which the case has occasionally
been made for the adoption of business practices in radical publishing,
most influentially by the Comedia group in the 1980s. Comedias argu-
ment in essence was that if alternative media were to achieve longevity and
escape the activist ghetto, they needed to transform their organizational
structures along capitalist lines, with a professionalization of management,
marketing, and accountancy and the development of an entrepreneurial
attitude.107 The critique was intended to be comradely and claimed not to
favor the blind extension of management ideas into organizations with
social goals, but the weight of the argument could not help but push
just that, as each encounter with experimental publishing was assessed
by conventional criteria of publishing success, against which, of course,
it came up short.108 And yet Comedias preparedness to critically assess
the financial paradigms of radical publishing is significant. It is a direction
taken by Mute also, though on a different tack to Comedia. It is true, as
van Mourik Broekman and Worthington wryly note, that from a certain
angle, Mutes story could indeed appear to resemble the clichd image
of the creative do-it-yourself entrepreneurial venture lionized in the
neoliberal imaginary.109 However, Mutes standing as a business is located
in relation to a somewhat different set of concerns to those propounded
by Comedia, containing none of the latters implicit sense of the organi-
zational superiority of business forms.
The politics of Mutes commercial structure is best considered through
the magazines critique of the much-touted radical publishing principle of
independence or autonomy. If independence is defined as economic
self-sufficiency in a negative relation to state and corporate bodies, Mute
as longtime recipient of an ACE grant (68,912 in 201112, the year before
funding was axed) is not an independent entity. Yet it is questionable
whether independence on this axis is really so progressive. The reach of
capitalist forms of value is such that very little stands outside its powers of
mobilization and capture; the linguistic structures and perceptual habits by
which we experience text, let alone modern publishing technologies and
communication infrastructures, are all thoroughly permeated by capital.
To proudly declare media independence under such conditions is to be
at best naive and, at worst, to disguise (however unintentionally) the real
structures of capital and power. The point is clear in van Mourik Broek-
mans rhetorical question: if the price of a Western European countrys
culture is disguised by social welfare, mature technological infrastructures
and a history of imperialism, does this elevate its independence over
global production cultures that appear more compromised?110
In this light, Mutes self-designation as a business is an ironic dis-
play of its thorough implication in capitalist social relations, a condition
of its immanent flesh that requires not declarations of independence,
which would merely obfuscate social relations with progressive sounding
rhetoric, but an ever compromised choreography of situation: the only
viable methodology is to be alert and totally engaged in the contradictions
of our position/ing, never presuming an organisational innocence.111
There are also more practical considerations. Central to Mutes experi-
mental publishing has been a concern at each stage of its transformation
to find a financial model that allows the magazine to endure and staff and
writers to be paid. Mute here shares with Comedia an interest in priori-

tizing financial viability and avoiding the self-exploitation of free labor
that plagues independent media initiatives.112 But there is an important,
if subtle, difference. The Comedia model is predicated on an uncritical
notion that business structures and commercial media practices are neutral
sets of tools that, if well handled, can be repurposed for leftist content.
It is an approach that jettisons the politics of media form in favor of an
accommodation to commercial norms on the wager that this can result
in relative successunderstood as commercial viability and audience
reachfor radical media. Experience suggests that it is actually far from
clear that commercial success in these terms is so readily achievable by
small press media.113 Regardless, Mutes self-critical financial form is
somewhat different, characterized not by accommodation with commerce
but by a struggle against it.
A detour through Deleuzes analysis of the place of money in cinema
is helpful in elucidating the nature of Mutes intervention on this front.
In a brief and enigmatic comment, Deleuze places capital at the heart
of cinema, arguing that cinema is an industrial art not, as one might
assume, because of its technological form but owing to its internalized
relation with money, an international conspiracy which conditions [cin-
ema] from within.114 For cinema is subject to moneys harsh law that
a minute of image...costs a day of collective work.115 To this law there
can be no independence, no escape, only one rejoinder, as Deleuze quotes
Fellini: When there is no more money left, the film will be finished.
But if cinema cannot escape money, neither does it accommodate itself.
For any cinema worthy of the name, the internal relation with money is
a relation of struggle: money is cinemas most intimate and most indis-
pensable enemy.116
Now, the struggle that characterizes Mutes production is not dis-
similar. The magazines efforts toward a financially sustainable publishing
model are not premised on achieving a point of happy accommodation with
money; how could they be, when the structural antagonism of capital is
such a persistent theme of Mutes content? The effort, rather, is to wrench
sustainability from the fundamentally hostile structure of commerce, a
task with an ever-receding horizon of success. Accommodation would
of course make things easier (as it does in the bulk of banal industrial
art), but that would be to abdicate the magazines critical aims, because
a condition for commercial success is to make any number of changes to
form and content (as set out by Comedia, for example). Mute is left, then,
in a relation of intimate and irresolvable struggle, one that is manifest in
the paradoxical and contradictory combination of efforts to pursue com-
mercial sustainabilitysubscriptions, advertising, micropayment struc-
tures, devolved sales, grant moneys, consultancy, crowdfundingwith
the decidedly noncommercial practices of refusing to build a stable profile
or court a market niche, the adoption of free-content and anticopyright
mechanisms, and direct critique of the governance agendas of funding
bodies. As a business, Mute is a strange commercial and anticommercial
hybrid; in the struggle against money, it could not be otherwise. It is a
paradoxical condition, born in the relationship to money, that traverses the
magazine as a whole, as is apparent in van Mourik Broekmans reflection
on the transformations in Mutes publishing paradigms:
We told ourselves the changes we made in the magazine were smart ad-
aptations, determined by market conditions like distribution, that could
allow us to sell more copies and increase our chances of being successful
enough to stay around. But I now wonder whether these changes in the
form werent a very elaborate way of avoidingor perhaps safeguarding
the central project of working out a certain critical framework, without
the interference of the market, institutional requirements, etc.117
My account of Mutes diagrammatic publishing has been largely kept to the

period between 2005 and 2011, but the theme of the magazines business
form warrants extending the analysis to after that date. The moving tangle
of contradictions that is Mutes business model hit a brick wall in spring
2011, when the magazines ACE grant was axed, a fate Mute shared with a
disproportionately large slice of the digital arts sector. This has combined
with the severe difficulty of sustaining itself in the free-content economy
of the Internetwhere, in a familiar story, readership has increased and
diversified in inverse proportion to sales and subscriptionsto leave Mute
in a more than usually precarious situation. Nonetheless, the ACE cut
was met by Mute, in typically combative fashion, with a new publishing
paradigm, its sixth. Alongside a restructured Metamute that more effec-

tively foregrounds the diversity of Mutes publishing cluster and routes to
sales, the print product of the magazine, dubbed Volume 3, is something
of a hybrid of the high production values of the coffee-table format and
the automated editorial facilities of the POD quarterly. Volume 3 comes
packaged with a new strap line, We Gladly Feast on Those Who Would
Subdue Us, which is rendered also in Latin, should the swagger of Mutes
response to austerity be in any doubt. But my concern at this stage of the
chapter is with the way Mute responded to the ACE cut with a practical
critique of the business paradigms of such cultural funding bodies and the
insidious effects of these on experimental arts and publishing.
In two pithy responses, both published in the first issue of Volume 3,
van Mourik Broekman and Berry Slater drew on ten years of Mute research
into the governance agendas of arts funding to dissect the conservative
reflux of ACEs decision. These texts detected an emerging tendency
to redefine digital media merely as resource for extending the reach and
organizational development of conventional art practice rather than as
a highly self-reflexive area of work with a long and rich history linking
into video, performance, independent publishing, installation art, soft-
ware development, literature and more.118 And this occurred precisely at
the moment when critical intervention in the digital media field is most
needed, as the Web becomes increasingly locked down and instrumental-
ized through capitalization and corporate consolidation. It is, however, the
critical reflection in these texts on the insidious neoliberal effects of ACEs
governance agendas that is most compelling for our analysis of media
form. Mute approaches these agendas as vehicles for the backdoor intro-
duction of corporate practices into the critical arts sector, undermining
it from within, at the level of organizational form. And so the designators
of successrisk taking, excellence, innovation, and the ubiquitous
creativityare to be found only in bodies that adapt their organizational
structure to corporate norms. The claim, in what Berry Slater aptly de-
scribes as a Darwinism of the arts, is that the cream will rise; the reality
is that ACE agendas and organizational requirements strangle criticality
and experiment in favor of crowd-pleasing forms, distinctive brands,
and solid business plans: It is the bad faith of conflating capitalisms
transformation of the cultural field with the criteria of so-called cultural

excellence.119 In textbook neoliberalism, these organizational structures
also introduce self-interest and competition for scarce resources, along
with mechanisms of self-subjection, a slavish gratitude for funds that
induces complicity with ACE values and agendas even among those
bodies who are denied funding. It is why Mute responded to its funding
cut with such a strong public critique and the establishment of a critical
and organizational forum, ACE Digital Uncut, within which a diverse
range of digital arts groups opened a new collective front on the financial
politics of digital media.
Taking leave here of Mutes ongoing publishing transformations, I will
conclude with a sketch of the principal features of Mutes diagrammatic
form. Returning to the model of magazine publishing that I drew from
Negri, Mute, like Futur Antrieur, is driven by its politicizing content,
its critique of neoliberal capitalism across the latters myriad empirical
manifestations. And, still in accord with Negri, Mute is radically open to
its environment, to the social field within which it exists and to which it
seeks to contribute political insight and association. There is a resolute
materialism to Mutes understanding of this social field, a materialism that
foregrounds the technomaterial character of human life and socialitythe
flesh of the world. Indeed, it is a materialism that sweeps up even the
medium by which the critique is made, for Mutes very form as a maga-
zine is subject to political critique and experimentation, a reflexive and
anti-identitarian process diagrammed in its publishing minifestos. In all
this, Mute makes the same move toward magazine immanence that was
articulated in the metaphors of octopus and single page employed
by Negri, Deleuze, and Guattari, but it moves our understanding of the
political magazine considerably beyond these, at the level of its organi-
zational modeling and its practical construction.
Here politics is not located only in the magazines politicizing content,
the empirically routed critique of neoliberal capital, but also in its media
form, where content and form, in relations of assemblage, constitute mu-
tually sustaining and transforming relays. Mute is a hybrid cluster of parts
and processes, some of which are technological (open source software,
POD), others aesthetic (the design affordances of the magazines print
platforms), content generating (distributed commissioning, user-generated

content), temporal (the archive as critical intensification of the present),
communal (OpenMutes public knowledge architectures, its monstrous
editorial), and financial (the paradoxical business form of this forum of
anticommerce). In each of these parts and processes, there is no deter-
mined relation between content and form. Rather, these two modalities
of media production come together in zones of experimentationwhich
may be an apt description of Mute as a whole, except such a description
risks sounding somewhat loose and metaphorical, whereas my aim here
has been to map abstract and concrete dimensions of the magazines
publishing practice in their specificity, in the components that compose
this experimental publishing venture. The assemblages, paradigms, and
problematics of which the magazine is formed are many and various,
but they all operate in a vortexlike manner of critical immanence to
the sociomaterial flesh of the world, to the social relations of neoliberal
capitalism. Mute, one might say, is the faltering pilot of the magazines
assemblagestheir diagram. Together, all these components and char-
acteristics constitute a model and practice of diagrammatic publishing.
Mutes diagrammatic form is precarious, for while the parts of its
publishing cluster contribute to the magazine as a whole, they also pull in
various directions with competing capacities and effects. The risk is that
the magazine will go entropic, as the editorial group have evocatively
put it, losing coherence and collapsing into its environment.120 But this
precarious character is also a sign and source of Mutes vitality, for it is
self-critical experimentation at the horizons of each aspect of its publish-
ing cluster, in its contingencies and breakdowns, that drives change in
the magazines form.
If Mute indicates a possible future for the political magazine, it is not
that future mapped by the pundits of technological teleology but one com-
prising such contingencies and media hybridities, where the assessment
and development of media formin post-digital fashionings of old and
newis always interlaced with an appreciation of, and challenge to, its
social inscription. Mute suggests a publishing practice that is driven in part
by an experimental attitude that comes from a deep commitment to the
properties and potential of diverse mediumsa little format-fetishism
is no bad thing. In the end, however, what is most singular about this art,
technology, and politics magazine is that its media form becomes a more
vital site of aesthetic and political experimentation the closer it attends to
the production and circulation of its content. Unlike many self-declared
independent publishing projects, Mutes financial arrangements are just
as much internal to its self-critical mutations as any other dimension of its
diagrammatic form. That is just as well, for these arrangements, and the
culture and economy they carry, may prove to present the greatest threat
of entropy. When there is no money left, the magazine will be finished.
Or not. In May 2014, as I complete this chapter, Mute has responded
to its funding cuts with another major transformation in its media form:
Volume 4, Web and e-pub publishing as-lean-as-you-can-get.121
6
Unidentified Narrative Objects
Wu Mings Political Mythopoesis
What is opposed to fiction is not the real; it is not the truth

which is always that of the masters or colonizers; it is the
story-telling function of the poor, in so far as it gives the false
the power which makes it into a memory, a legend, a monster.
gilles deleuze, Cinema 2
When we talk about myths, we mean stories that are tangible.

wu ming, Why Not Show Off about the Best Things?
It is reported that Mao never forgave Nikita Khrushchev for his 1956
Secret Speech on the crimes of the Stalin era.1 Of the aspects of the
speech that were damaging to Mao, the most troubling was no doubt
Khrushchevs attack on the cult of personality, not only in Stalins
example but in principle, as a perversion of Marxism.2 After all, if the
cult of personality was an invariant feature of communist states and par-
ties, as Alain Badiou has remarked, it was soon to be brought to a point
of paroxysm in Chinas Cultural Revolution.3 And so it should be no
surprise that Mao retorted two years later with a defense of the axiom
as properly communist. In delineating correct and incorrect kinds
of personality cults, Mao insisted, The question at issue is not whether
or not there should be a cult of the individual, but rather whether or not
the individual concerned represents the truth. If he does, then he should
be revered.4 Not unexpectedly, Mao presents Marx as an example of an
individual who should be revere[d] for ever, along with Engels, Lenin,
and the correct side of Stalin.5 Yet Marx himself was most hostile to
such practice, a fact from which Khrushchev sought to make mileage,
quoting from Marxs November 1877 letter to Wilhelm Blos:
272
unidentified narrative objects 273
From my antipathy to any cult of the individual, I never made public

during the existence of the International the numerous addresses from
various countries which recognized my merits and which annoyed me. I
did not reply to them, except sometimes to rebuke their authors. Engels
and I first joined the secret society of Communists on the condition
that everything making for superstitious worship of authority would be
deleted from its statute.6
Not only hostile to the cult of personality, Marx coined this pejorative
construction in the political domain, so presenting its Soviet practitioners
with quite a bind.7 The cult of Stalin was consciously put into play in
1929 on the occasion of his fiftieth birthday, though this affective struc-
ture of Soviet leadership first emerged with Lenin around 1920 and was
consolidated with the preparations for conserving his body and memory,
when the founder of the Cheka, Felix Dzerzhinsky, declared, In regards
to the cult of personality, this is not a cult of personality, but in a certain
manner a cult of Vladimir Ilich.8 The contortion is impressive, but this
formulation is logically untenable of course, and so it was the first and
last time any Bolshevik spoke publicly of a cult of their leader. In any
case, it transpired that the personality cult was aided by its disavowal,
denied in speech precisely so that it could be better constructed under
the cover of denial.9 A popular cult must look exactly that, popular and
spontaneous, and not appear driven by the object of the cult himself.
If I quote Khrushchev favorably, it is not to accord with his broader
thesis or the aims of his speech, which, in elevating the personality cult
to an all-encompassing explanatory principle, sought to inoculate the
state against criticism of Stalins era and of its enduring social, industrial,
and agricultural polices. Keeping such social relations out of his critique,
focusing instead on the all-powerful individual, Khrushchev was deploy-
ing a bourgeois explanatory schema, such that Althusser was correct in
this regard to call the cult of personality a pseudo-concept, with only
superficial explanatory value.10 And yet, while the personality cult was not
an adequate explanation for Stalin, as a structure of affective investment
cultivated in Communist regimes, it nonetheless had considerable force in
binding populations to leader, party, and state. It is also the mythical form
most commonly associated with the history of communism. That is not
274 unidentified narrative objects
to say that the cult of the individual is exclusive to this arena. As Badiou
remarks, devotion to a particular individual is commonplace in established
religions and in bourgeois culture, notably the reverential framework of
artistic genius, without it being dismissed as a pathology.11 To this we can
add that the avowedly capitalist states have not been averse to venerating
their own political leaders, through the Cold War opposition to Commu-
nism and since. The cult surrounding Narendra Modis 2014 ascension
to power in India is a recent case in point, to which the unseemly speed
by which The Economist gave its endorsementStrongman: How Modi
Can Unleash India, declared one front coveris a disturbing repetition
of capitals seemingly natural inclination in times of crisis to champion
the strongman savior.12 We should note also Beppe Grillo and the Italian
Five Star Movement, where right-wing populism has been assisted by
repurposed leftist rhetoric and a structure of leadership that might best
be described as the cult of personality filtered through the entertainment
complex of Late Berlusconism, as Wu Ming has put it.13
These are important reminders that it is not only state Communist
regimes that have suffered from superstitious worship of individual author-
ity. But this is not the lesson Badiou draws from his observation, for the
continuity of such veneration of exceptional individuals seems for him to
help validate the cult of personality, although the point lacks his normal
force of affirmative declaration: it is neither more nor less inappropriate
to sacralize political creators than it is to sacralize artistic creators. Per-
haps less so, all things considered, because political creation is probably
rarer.14 Actually, he can be more forthright. In a later text, The Idea of
Communism, toward the task of articulating the possible parameters of
a communist sequence for the new century, Badiou describes the posi-
tive role of the cult of personality as projecting the exception into the
otherwise mundane life of individuals, to fill what merely exists with a
certain measure of the extraordinary.15 In revolutionary proper names,
what he at one point calls different versions of the cult of personality,
the ordinary individual discovers glorious, distinctive individuals as the

mediation for his or her own individuality, as the proof that he or she can
force its finitude. The anonymous action of millions of militants, rebels,
fighters, unrepresentable as such, is combined and counted as one in the

simple, powerful symbol of the proper name.16
Any doubt that Badious construction of the proper name here does
indeed include in its domain the historical phenomenon of the cult of
personality is put aside if we consider his curious interpretation of the
Secret Speech. Badiou appears to accord with Althussers reading, that
Khrushchevs critique of Stalin lacked the perspective of revolutionary
politics, as he puts it.17 And he repeats Althussers intriguing suggestion
that Khrushchev opened the door to reactionary politico-philosophical
positions in the WestMarxist humanism for Althusser, the reactionary
humanism of the new philosophers for Badiou. But the reasons given
for the latter are different. While Badiou initially sounds like Althusser,
he sees the fault not in the analytic frame of the cult of personality qua
bourgeois explanatory schema but in challenging the cult of personality
at all, which he views not as a defective explanation but as a structure to
be defended. The Khrushchev episode thus provides Badiou with a very
precious lesson: even though retroactive political actions may require
that a given name [e.g., Stalin] be stripped of its symbolic function, this
function as such cannot be eliminated for all that.18
The lesson to draw from Marxs formulation is rather different: the
presence of the cult of personality in communist scenes is an indication
that they were still bound to capitalist structures of identity and authority,
to the great man theory of bourgeois history, namely, the indexing and
referencing of social phenomena to individual actors, a specifically capi-
talist culture of leadership and representation that developed across the
globe from the 1890s and became an entrenched feature of the twentieth
century.19 With Amadeo Bordiga, as Jacques Camatte presents his position,
the cult of the great men and messiahs, of bourgeois personalism, was
a pathogenic element in the workers movement.20
There is a curious feature of the media component of state Communist
cults of personality, a feature that draws this discussion into the orbit of
the anti-book. The Sino-Soviet personality cults were complex products
of pastoral, psychological, visual, linguistic, architectural, artifactual, and
bureaucratic forms and relations, where broadcast and filmic media had
a central place. But they all also found some ground in the considerably
less image-centric media forms of writing and books, not only in the tex-
tual production of the public image of the leader, which in the state art
of biography was considerable, but also in sharing a common proclivity
toward projecting the leader as author.21 From Stalin to Ceauescu, each
racked up a sizeable set of bound and sanctified collected works, as, in
Debrays words, the most philistine despot found himself wreathed in
the laurels of knowledge (Figure 12).22
The leader cult of Nazism, its concrescence of race, nation, and
struggle, which was famously bound up with developments in the cin-
ematic imagethe regime of information and automatic response, as
Deleuze and Benjamin describe it, Hitler as filmmakeralso took the
book as an integral component.23 There is a patent mythical dimension
to the Nazi spectacle of book burning, initiated with the German Student
Associations Twelve Theses (which self-consciously recalled Martin
Luthers Ninety-Five Theses and an earlier book burning associated
with an anniversary of the latter). Cleansing culture of the un-German
Spirit and Jewish intellectualism, book burning signified to the Nazis,
in Joseph Goebbelss words to the forty thousand assembled for one
such spectacle in Berlin, that the future German man will not just be a
man of books, but a man of character.24 Yet the burning of books hardly
displays indifference to this medium; from colonial burning of the textual
matter of non-Europeans through Catholic burning of Protestant texts,
and vice versa, book burning affirms the body of textual work that is not
so consumed. It is no surprise, then, that Goebbelss German character
also found a ready complement in the book, in the figure of Hitler as author,
crafting his vision of German character in Mein Kampfin its content, yes,
but also in the myth of its writing, of Hitler entirely devoting his prison
time to the production of this worka copy of which was given free to
every newlywed couple and every soldier at the front, a distribution that
symbolically bound the Nazi tenets of family, race, and war.25
Does critique of the personality cult mean that communism should
be opposed to mythical structures of association in total, to the energiz-
ing value of images of the extraordinary, in Badious phrase? Creating
distance from the cult of personality and pursuing instead a communism
Figure 12. Great StalinBeacon of Communism, Viktor Ivanov, 1952. A volume
of Lenins collected works in his left hand, Stalin is framed by the works of Marx
and Engels, Lenin, and Stalin.
immanent to the social relations of capital would seem to encourage a

move away from myth. But myth also has modalities more in tune with the
communism I have been exploring in this book, and that is the direction I
take here, through the understanding and practice of political mythopoeis
developed by the collective writing project Wu Ming.26
Political Mythopoesis
Wu Ming, Luther Blissetts most prominent successor, comprises the

participants of that multiple name project who wrote the novel Q
discussed in chapter 4 (with one addition and, later, one departure), but
instead of an open multiplicity, Wu Ming is a discrete collective author,
now comprising four people, whose work is more directly focused on tex-
tual production, in narrative fiction, including five novels, and nonfictional
critical interventions.27 There are continuities between Wu Ming and some
of the features of Luther Blissett that I set out in chapter 4: the critique of
property persists; the Wu Ming collective retains an opacity toward the
mechanisms of the author-celebrity; and, though the group is limited in
number, certain qualitative benefits of the multiple single still prevail,
such that they characterize themselves as both a distinct entity and a body
that is different and greater than the sum of its individual parts. Some
of this is held in Wu Mings name, which is Mandarin for nameless:
The name of the band is meant both as a tribute to dissidents (Wu Ming
is a common byline among Chinese citizens demanding democracy and
freedom of speech) and as a refusal of the celebrity-making, glamorizing
machine that turns authors into stars. Wu Ming is also a reference
to the third sentence in the Tao Te Ching: Wu ming tian di zhi shi,
Nameless is Heavens and Earths Origin.28
All the same, as a closed multiplicity, Wu Mings mode of authorship is

considerably less inventive and exploratory than Luther Blissett, as the
collective is happy to admit. It is Wu Mings approach to myth that interests
us here. The textual production and interrogation of myth is a prominent
feature of Wu Mings novels and critical writing, finding one of its full-
est elaborations in an essay reflecting on the mythical value of Thomas
Muntzer, a central presence in Q. As Spectres of Mntzer at Sunrise

explains, myths are narratives that are circulated and reiterated socially,
generating affective bonds, shared meanings, and volitional capacities.
Despite a common misconception, the function of genuine myth is not
to bind a community to the past but to open the parameters of the future
in the present by multiplying the resources of the past:
Ongoing narration makes [myth] evolve, because what happens in the

present changes the way we recollect the past. As a result, those tales
are modified according to the context and acquire new symbolic/meta-
phorical meanings. Myths provide us with examples to follow or reject,
give us a sense of continuity or discontinuity with the past, and allow us
to imagine a future.29
These symbolic effects combine with a certain shamanic or event-inducing

capacity to summon supernatural powers toward a transformation of
the present. For Wu Ming 1, it is no accident that myths and folk tales
[are] populated by demons, witches, magicians, gods etc.30
That said, any attempt at a progressive evaluation of myth is im-
mediately confronted by the knowledge that myths can have a decid-
edly conservative, even destructive, function in political environments:
Revolutionary and progressive movements have always found their
own metaphors and myths. Most of the times these myths outlive their
usefulness and become alienating. Rigor mortis sets in, language becomes
wooden, metaphors end up enslaving the people instead of setting them
free.31 This is what Furio Jesi calls the technification of myth, when
the mythical image overwhelms conscious and subconscious processes,
dulling critical capacities and narrowing the individuals relation with the
transformative field of communal experience.32 The cult of personality is
readily understandable in these terms, but this prominent historical in-
stance of communist myth is not the only example of the way that political
myth can go awry. Much of Wu Mings reflection on myth has emerged
from a critical relation to activist currents in the period around the 2001
anti-G8 events in Genoa, from where they identify specific problems in
the linguistic and subjective modalities of myth. Referring more or less
directly to the Italian Disobedienti group (in a text accompanied by a
satirical image of the groups spokesperson, Luca Casarini, morphed

with Stalin), Wu Ming 1 comments on the way mythical language can
operate as clichs and slogans abstracted from the ethical and affective
conditions of communal life:
The problem is not merely the language being outdated, because it can
even sound new, it can include a lot of neologisms. No, the problem is that
the wooden language...is ethically unacceptable, it is a jargon made of
slogans and clichs that keep experience away, it never establishes any
contact with sorrow or pain, love and delight, feelings, emotions. It only
accompanies boredom. What good is an annoying sequence of words in
a vacuum? Think of those stupid, ultra-rhetoric propaganda speeches
filled with the Movement of movements, disobedience,...were
going to disobey,...we are the multitude.33
This reflection on the linguistic sclerosis of the Italian activist milieu

after 2001 is especially striking because it is in part a critical self-assessment
of Wu Mings own political practice, having themselves been involved
in the Tute Bianche (White Overalls) movement, the remnants of which
established the Disobedienti. And it raises a second problem with politi-
cal mythopoesis: not only its lifeless and clichd language but its overly
integrated and self-sacrificial subjective force. Wu Mings early approach
to myth has some debt to Georges Sorels formulation of the general
strike. For Sorel, the power of socialist myth is its capacity for evoking
instinctively a coordinated set of feelings at a maximum intensity such
that an instantaneous intuition of socialism is achieved which language
cannot give us and that enables proletarians to always picture their
coming action as a battle in which their cause is certain to triumph.34 Wu
Mings mythopoetical practice through stunts and performative texts in the
buildup to Genoa clearly bears signs of this framework, as is most evident
in their text From the Multitudes of Europe.35 This edict constructs
a narrative movement of a historical subject focused on Genoa, a trans
historical confrontation between the class of property and the multitude:
We are new, and yet we are the same as always (Figure 13). But Sorels
certainty of triumph is a delusion that can have dire consequences,
and Genoa turned out to be a police-orchestrated bloodbathwith
Figure 13. Wu Ming media stunt toward the anti-G8 events in Genoa 2001, utiliz-
ing a monument to the Resistance fighters in the Battle of Porta Lame, Bologna.
Reproduced under a Creative Commons License.
the Carabinieris killing of Carlo Giuliani and their torture and assault of
detained demonstrators.36 It was a bloodbath with which Wu Ming consid-
ered themselves indirectly complicit: We were among the most zealous
in urging people to go to Genoa, and helped to steer the movement into
the ambush.37 Caught up in the wave of mobilization, it appears that they
lost sight of Qs critique of political subjectivity. As Wu Ming comment
on the popular weaving of features of Qs worldThomas Mntzer, the
Peasants War, the Mnster Rebellionin the mythopoetical general
metaphor of the Genoa movement, although it was inspiring and effec-
tive, the metaphor was a misrepresentation....Thomas Mntzer spoke
to us, but we couldnt understand his words. It wasnt a blessing, but a
warning.38 This recognition has prompted a critical reassessment of Wu
Mings relation to myth, central to which is an effort to refound political

mythopoesis without or against a unified subjectivity. It is in this direction
that this chapter moves.
Wu Mings work on mythopoesis is traversed by an abiding sense of
crisis in political subjectivity, of the tenuous possibilities of politics, and
by a pervasive feeling of defeat. But it is crisis made productive, as dis
aggregated style, roving affect, and fragmented iconicity become the parts
of an experimental mythopoesis unconstrained by the unifications of a
political subject. It is a perspective Wu Ming broadly share with Deleuze,
who argues that we are living through the demise of the unified subjective
form of the peopleas was principally expressed and corrupted in U.S.
universal immigration and Soviet universal proletarizationsuch
that politics need not seek a new subjectivity but refound itself upon the
anti-identitarian condition that the people are missing.39 It is true that
Deleuze talks also of a people to come, but that formulation blunts his
intervention on this front, namely, that it is in impossible, cramped,
and radically disaggregated conditions that politics arises, a politics that is
unable to achieve and ever wards o ff the unifications of a people, a position
that Deleuze and Guattari closely associate with the nonidentity of the
proletariat that I have been picking up throughout this book.40
This is not an easy condition to bear, given how grounded modern
politics has been in the image of collective identity, from the citizen to
the traditional Marxist subject of labor. Bereft of serviceable images of
the people, we are left only with saturation of the political field by clichs,
information, and order-words. In this situation, as Deleuze has it, we are
severed from our being in the world, from our ethico-political capacities:
The modern fact is that we no longer believe in this world. We do not
even believe in the events which happen to us, love, death, as if they only
half concerned us.41 The terms are rather grandiose, but the sense they
convey of crisis, dislocation, and incapacity is salient.
The task under such conditions is to construct means to believe in
the world, this world, not as a programmatic set of principles, beliefs,
but as an affirmation of the world against its constraints and closures,
and from this belief to open orientations to the future, to precipitate
events, however inconspicuous, to engender new space-times, however
small their surface or volume.42 The privileged vehicle for Deleuze in

this regard is cinema. In what follows, I touch on some of the techniques
of cinematic narration that he sees as actualizing new ways of being and
believing in the world. But I do so through a particular feature of Deleuzes
argument, namely, his account of the place and politics of storytelling or
myth, as it appropriates the role of generating political association and
imagination on the conditions of their absence. The counterintuitive
nature of this intervention needs underscoring. Myth arises not in recip-
rocal presupposition with a peoplea tradition, a culture, a historical
calling, and one that is placed under threat from an outsideas it does
for the Right, but on the absolute evacuation of political subjectivity, on
the nonexistence of a people.
Here too Wu Ming share the diagnosis, though their formulation is
more directly situated in contemporary conjunctures, and with less of
the grandiose quality to Deleuzes belief in the world. It arises with
particular attention to the Italian context of mass medias final abdica-
tion of any democratic claim to inform and challenge the polis and of
the eternal present of media narratives, as Marco Amici puts it, that
foreclose relations to the past and, hence, capacities to act differently on
the future.43 But myth also pertains to the interlaced structures and con-
ditions of property and ecological crisis. These are the conditions of the
political necessity of myth, where art and literature cannot just sound
late alarms: they must help us to imagine a way out. They must heal our
gaze and strengthen our capacity to visualize.44
We can say, then, that Deleuze and Wu Ming share Badious concern
for a politics of the extraordinary that brings political vitality to a debased
and prostrated everyday life, but the cult of personality would for them,
clearly, be part of the problem. Instead, they begin the task of developing
a desubjectified mythopoesis, which in Wu Ming operates through three
features, which structure the following discussion: first, a technique of
falsifying narration that puts into play a conception of time as bifurcat-
ing and nonlinear; a concern, second, not with transcendent judgment
and integrated subjectivity but with immanent evaluation of fragmented
modes of being; and third, the agency of a desubjectified enunciative
voice, the unidentified narrative object.
Falsifying Narration
Under the generalized condition of defeat, the loss or inherent corruption

of the model of a historical people, the temporality of progress has noth-
ing to offer. Wu Mings mythopoesis responds to Benjamins diagnosis of
the temporal dimension of the integration of the workers movement with
capital: Nothing has corrupted the German working class so much as the
notion that it was moving with the current.45 Instead, Wu Mings histori-
cal fiction is premised on an understanding of time as a fractal field,
one neither linear or cyclical but composed of bifurcations, conflicts,
discontinuities, and paths not taken, the value of which resides in the
capacity of the past to retroact on the present, which is contradictory as
well.46 Fiction is uniquely placed to mine, overlay, and accentuate these
bifurcations, practicing what Deleuze calls falsifying narration. Deleuze
locates the emergence of falsifying narration in postwar cinematic images
and literatures that break with determination by linear movement to ex-
press time as a labyrinth of forking paths. In these conditions,
narration ceases to be truthful, that is, to claim to be true, and becomes

fundamentally falsifying. This is not at all a case of each has its own
truth, a variability of content. It is a power of the false which replaces
and supercedes the form of the true, because it poses the simultaneity
of incompossible presents, or the coexistence of not-necessarily true pasts.47
To be clear, this is not a negation of the real but its enrichment and in-
tensification; as narration falsifies its object and generates incompossible
worlds, it constitutes the layers of one and the same...reality, sheets
of past [that] coexist in a non-chronological order where a single event
can belong to several levels.48 Falsifying narration is thus better seen as a
politicization of the real, allowing art to make a direct and transformative
intervention in and against the reified images of established history, of
the true. The point is well made by Timothy Murphy in his account of
falsifying narration in the work of William Burroughs:
Narration is freed from the despotism of compossibility and multiplied,

producing a fertile network of potential trajectories through time....This
is the role that artworks can play in the present, the role of fantasmatic
structures that alter the direction and speed of the present moment by
altering the past trajectory on which the present would have to travel.49
And yet there is also a certain realism at play here, what Dimitri Chimenti
describes as a thematic realism, a manipulation of the real...which
represents determinant aspects of how individuals inhabit their world.50
This is central to Wu Mings falsifying narration and to the nebula of
contemporary works they have characterized as the New Italian Epic.51
The writers standpoint is displaced, adjusting the periscope to the hori-
zon (and to the immense horizon of phenomena) rather than the horizon
to the periscope, in a phrase from Pasolini (who plays a key role in Wu
Mings understanding of falsifying narration, as he does for Deleuze).52
In its place, at this horizon, falsifying narration brings structures and
systems into expression; these are narratives of capital, at once empirically
grounded and unrepresentable in their totality. This, then, is the strange
condition of falsifying narration: it undoes the distinction between the
real and the imaginary to gain a better, visceral, and structural grasp on a
reality understood to be ever escaping the possibility of representation, a
non-totalizable complexity, non-representable by a single individual.53
And so Valerio Evangelisti describes this narrative form as speaking
through systems, through historico-geographical frameworks, visions
of entire societies, cosmic impulses, as long as the outcome is achieved:
making people think, in a realistic or metaphorical way, about the collec-
tive perception of an alienated everyday.54
There are numerous formal aspects to this mode of narration. To take
only one, these works of New Italian Epic commonly graft historical docu-
ments into the fictionnewspaper articles, legal documents, letters, and
other extraliterary texts, even, on occasion, fictional works masquerading
as factual documents. Such grafts lend plausibility to the representation of
the real, intensifying the reality effect by allowing the real to slide into its
own textual reconstruction.55 Concurrently, this technique destabilizes
the textual methods by which the true is established, further unsettling the
distinction between the real and the fictional to allow falsifying narration to
take hold. It is not always achieved; such works are often unsuccessful,
as Wu Ming describe it, suggesting that an opening to failure is a condition

of the experimental nature of mythopoetical production.56
Turning now to the specific content of Wu Mings falsifying orienta-
tion, it seeks not exactly to take an alternative path through the labyrinth of
forking paths, a reasonably common science fiction practice of ucrony,
but to explore worlds at their evental points of potential, worlds layered,
discontinuous, and heated with the force of impending change. As Wu
Ming describe it, we prefer to investigate the possibility of a bifurca-
tion in history, the moment when history might have gone in a different
direction. We are not interested in depicting the bifurcation itself, or its
consequences.57 This is the moment that precedes the fork in the road,
a fiction balanced on the edge of ucrony without ever practicing it.58 Wu
Mings novel Manituana, for instance, is located in the overdetermined
field of the American War of Independence and written with allegorical
intent in our time of crisis, instability, and neoimperialism in the geopolitics
of the United States. Against the state-myth of the birth of U.S. democracy,
which hides a reality bathed in the blood of Native American peoples and
enslaved Africans, it depicts the Six Iroquois Nations (Mohawk, Oneida,
Cayuga, Onondaga, Tuscarora, and Seneca) forming an alliance with the
English Crown in self-defense against the genocidal territorial ambitions
of the rebels. Here, through multiple narrative voices, the novel is tasked
with imagining the hybrid indigenous and settler cultures that would soon
be crushed by the emergent structures of the newly independent nation.59
But the mythical effect of the novel does not stop with this upbeat image.
If Manituana constructs an antinational culture, a true hybrid against the
state-myth of U.S. universal immigration, it is a construction at one and
the same time flooded with violence. Violence, as Emanuela Piga well
observes, is here a protagonist, one that overwhelms and possesses both
the victors and the vanquished.60 The most affectively binding scenes
convey the hybridity of peoples and, conversely, the atrocities commit-
ted on both sides, a violence that viscerally articulates how bound is the
past and the present to the slaughter of the nation-state and its model of
the people. As such, myth serves at once to open potentialities and to
foreground the feeling of being blocked, so intensifying our relationship
to the limits of the present, what Deleuze describes as putting into a
crisis among those who come up against an impasse in every direc-

tion.61 Without forcing our gaze on the latter, on our impossibilities,
myth would merely serve an escapist or utopian function, a storytelling
of cardboard people and paper revolutionaries.62
Churning up a past that is not past, imagining possible worlds, multi-
plying perspectives, foregrounding our impasses, Manituana is a histori-
cal hallucination, a falsifying narrative that reacts back on the true of
American exceptionalism, past and present.
Broken Heroes, Shattered States of Emotion
Wu Mings feeling for the protagonism of violencean amorphous,

asubjective, structural agentleads into the second feature of mytho-
poesis. In holding history in an intense and labyrinthine state of potential,
falsifying narration resists attraction to a political agent and transcendent
frame of judgment. Manituana displays a clear empathy with the Iroquois,
but it produces no privileged standpoint: were not interested in the
clich of the innocent Indian whos in harmony with nature.63 In one
scene at an aristocratic London party, Philip Lacroix, a Mohawk raised
by French missionaries, posits his empirical hybridity as answer to the
Enlightenment problem of whether he is Voltaires ingnu, the natural
man, or a latecomer...yet to attain a state of civilisation? I like the
fairy tales of philosophers, Lacroix adds, wryly quoting Voltaire, but
they have never set foot in America and have never met an Indian.64 If
the Iroquois are, then, as existentially complex as the Europeans, they are
also as implicated in the brutal and insidious violence, drunk on blood
as the visionary character Molly Brant warns in the prologue.65 From
this hybrid and compromised position, the Iroquois do come forward
as heroes of a sort, but only while simultaneously carrying along their
failures, characters who are at times strong, at times crushed by limited
prospects and suffocating binary options, while at other times they are
butchers themselves.66
Without a valorized subject, falsifying narration concerns itself instead
with the immanent evaluation of the ethical and aesthetic capacities of
the livesvariously blocked, hobbled, and resistantthat populate its
narrated systems. For Deleuze, it is a matter...of evaluating every being,

every action and passion, even every value, in relation to the life which
they involve.67 This is an evaluation that complements the bifurcating
image of history in concerning itself with a disaggregated field of being
affects, images, values as so many raw materials or part-objects of political
imagination. Deleuze observes this in the concerns of 1970s U.S. black
cinema, after the failure of Black Power:
instead of replacing a negative image of the black with a positive one,

[black American cinema] multiplies types and characters, and each
time creates or re-creates only a small part of the image which no longer
corresponds to a linkage of actions, but to shattered states of emotions
or drives, expressible in pure images and sounds.68
Wu Mings literary creations are not this radical in form, maintaining

a close relation with action-driven narrative structures. But modes of
sociality, collective affects, and ethical evaluation of different capacities
of life are central constituent operators in their novels. 54, a novel much
concerned with ethical and aesthetic styles of life in mid-1950s Italy, is
a case in point. Set in peacetime, this is no less a conflictual terrain
than that of Manituana, as the opening lines inform: Postwar means
nothing./What fools called peace simply meant moving away from the
front./Fools defended peace by supporting the armed wing of money.69
Against the backdrop of Cold War maneuvering in a land of strategic
importance and the dashed hopes of the Resistance, here working-class
popular culturemost especially the filuzzi dance and the neighborhood
barbrushes up against new consumer desires, global trade and com-
munication networks, and the charmed life of Cary Grant in a manner
that posits style at the foreground of experience. This is style as the direct
expression and handling of the complexities and impasses of situated
existence, the way a time is affirmed, a belief in the world constituted
where ethics and aesthetics coincide and become act.70
Cary Grant is the privileged figure. Born Archibald Alexander Leach
in Bristol to a poor proletarian family, Grant toured the United States as a
circus acrobat, tackling a number of low-paid jobs in New York City before
undertaking in California what his biographer Graham McCann calls the
invention of Cary Grant.71 In Wu Mings assessment, Grant was a class

apart: the first star to work independently of the Hollywood studios; a
transatlantic character with an unmistakable masculinity but graceful and
relaxed, very different from Clark Gable or Gary Cooper, with a certain
lightness, one that assists flight from the worlds sloth and dullness,
and the sartorial skill by which the dispossessions of classas well as
of racialization and genderhave long been mediated and symbolically
challenged.72 Certainly Grants class apart is integral to his bankability
for Hollywood, to his suturing of the audience to an image that hides and
reproduces the exclusions of race, gender, and class, but it is an image that
54 seeks to repurpose. In Wu Mings novel, Grant is courted by Alfred
Hitchcock to return to acting, in what would become 1954s To Catch a
Thief, and by MI6 to act as covert emissary to Yugoslavia to discuss, of
all things, Titos ambitions for a biopic. But what interests me here is
that alongside these narrative arcs, wherein Grants character is loosened
from self-identity, he has a particular mythopoetical function. Indeed,
he is introduced with a rave evaluation from an omniscient narrator that
elevates him to a decidedly unorthodox figure of communist overcoming:
In classless society, anybody could be Cary Grant.73 This is the passage
at its most exuberant:
Who had never yearned for such perfection, to draw down from Platos
Hyperuranium the Idea of Cary Grant, to donate it to the world so that
the world might change, and finally to lose himself in the transformed
world, to lose himself never to re-emerge? The discovery of a style and
the utopia of a world in which to cultivate it.74
Grant functions in the novel, then, as an Idea or iconbut an Idea

without transcendent judgment, without judgment of any kind. It is an
Idea based solely on his immanent affirmation of life, the singular style of
which this transatlantic star was famed. To partake of his style, to become
Cary Grant, is not to imitate him but to practice no less of an immanent
affirmation of ones conditions of life. The Idea of Grant must hence
disaggregate in the very process of its affirmation, because to affirm Cary
Grant is to project oneself back into the manifold of ones social existence:
Pierre, the star filuzzi dancer, crossed the [dance] floor as though it were
Piazza Maggiore on a Sunday morning, keeping his hand in his trouser

pocket, under his jacket, more Cary Grant than ever.75
The structure of immanent style sketched here is such that the selec-
tion of Grant for this role must itself be somewhat arbitrary, contingent
on local taste and preference. And this preference in turn must retain a
certain immanence and not be aggrandized. Wu Ming 1 thus comments
elsewhere that the passage in 54 that introduces Grants myth is also in
part a parody of efforts by leftists to rationalize and constrain their affective
investments according to higher political values, the temptation...to
force that passion or preference back under the umbrella of your ideol-
ogy.76 By contrast, he offers a more immanent, local explanation for their
choice: We included Grant...because we like him, we find him intrigu-
ing, we like his style. And even here contingency works its ways, for it
seems that the choice of Grant was also something of an accident, when
Wu Ming 2 mistook the initials of Gary Cooper for those of Cary Grant
in his research notes on 1950s Hollywood sex symbols.77
Unidentified Narrative Objects
What happens to political agency in this field of incompossible worlds

and fragmented modes of being? The agency of desubjectified myth is
generated through its peculiar form of enunciative voice, myths third
characteristic. We can come to an appreciation of this through further
consideration of the place of the real in falsifying narration. If myth is
an ethico-aesthetic evaluation of situated lives, it should be clear that it
cannot be an arbitrary imposition by a writer on a historical or social field.
Examples of the cinema of falsifying narration with which Deleuze en-
gages tend to be documentary and ethnographic in genre, and Wu Mings
mythopoesis emerges only after prolonged periods of historical research.
In other words, their characters are meticulously locatedindeed, the
likeness of Wu Mings Cary Grant to the actor is such that a comparative
review of 54 with a contemporaneous Grant biography found the fictional
portrayal to be the most convincing.78 It is, then, real and not fictional
characters that are put in the condition of making up fiction, as
Deleuze has it.79 The effect is to produce a blurring or contamination of
the point of view of the author (external to the world presented, hence in
cinematic convention objective) and that of the characters and world
portrayed (internal to the scene, hence subjective). Wu Ming call the
resultant enunciative form an unidentified narrative object or UNO.
The concept refers to the disorienting blend of fiction and nonfiction
that I touched on above, but its effects are felt on the enunciative voice,
where it bears association with Deleuzes particular understanding of free
indirect discourse: narration between subjective and objective viewpoints
that sweeps up both in an utterance that is loosened from determination
by either.80 The result, as Wu Ming 1 describes it, is somewhat halluci-
natory or uncanny, an at once seductive and disconcerting feeling of
familiarity and strangeness that arises as one loses the ability to locate
the enunciative voice and the reality, or not, of the world being por-
trayed.81 It is an effect he considers most successfully achieved in Roberto
Savianos Gomorrah, the devastating work of reportage, fiction, and po-
litical economy on the intimacy between global capital and the cruel and
nihilistic world of Neapolitan organized crime. Here, the narrating I
frequently hallucinates and hijacks the points of view of other people,
intentionally playing on the confusion between the author, the narrator and
a narrating I that doesnt belong to any of them.82 As Gomorrah blends
and confuses the apparently objective and the literary, the autobiographi-
cal and the journalistic, the novel presents scenarios through the authors
I that, on reflection, stretch plausibility to its breaking point. Readers
are led to object that they have been dupedhe could not have witnessed
thatat the very moment that their experience of the world represented
is at its most intense, disturbing, and critically salient. Rachel Donadios
New York Times review is revealing of such effects, in complaining that
Savianos readers are not informed that he took liberties with his first-
person accounts, while at the same time commenting that I could not
get this brave book out of my head.83
It is the autonomy of this unidentified roving voicebetween the real
and the fictional, between the perspective of the writer and a particular
historical or social bodyand its disorienting, hallucinatory, and allur-
ing affect that provides myth with its agential, catalytic force. An effect
of its telling, UNO or myth gains autonomy and folds back on its field of
emergence to become a cause. As Deleuze has it, myth is a monster, it

has a life of its own: an image that is always stitched together, patched
up, continually growing along the way.84 Referring back to chapter 4,
one might think of Luther Blissett in exactly these termsnot only a
collective author but an unidentified myth, a catalyst, an uncontrollable
golem.85 Of course, it is the agential, catalytic property of a distributed
mythto gather diverse affects and relations in an intensity that projects
into actionthat also makes the cult of personality so effective. The in-
tensity of the popular cult of Mao, for example, did indeed assist people
in accomplishing extraordinary feats, be it in industry, sport, or popular
violence. The difference in Wu Mings conception is that here myth
provides no fusion of belonging determined by a transcendent subject or
truth. Fragments of association, imagination, ideas, moods, are woven
together through myth, butif it avoids becoming technifiedthese
emergent arrangements remain constituted around an absent center, with
a processual openness to their outside. If Luther Blissett and a certain
reading of Cary Grant are examples, and Malcolm X too, as we will see
shortly, it is only insofar as they play a role in the more everyday dynamics
of myth to intensify ones desubjectifying and critical encounter with, or
belief in, the world.
To dispel any Arcadian images that may have been conveyed with all
this talk of storytelling, it should be underscored that these unidentified
and fragmented qualities of myth are facilitated by its relation to artifice
and technology. Just as Luther Blissett was immersed in media forms,
free indirect discourse is for Deleuze a fully mediated mode of expres-
sion, characterized by a taste for making the camera felt: obsessive
framing, alternation of lenses on the same image, bizarre angles, abnor-
mal movements, excessive zooming. The novel has fewer technological
affordances, but it is productive to regard Wu Mings literary practice as
similarly concerned with foregrounding and testing the capacities of the
medium, albeit in a manner that seeks at one and the same time to have a
popular quality (We wanted to give our contribution to popular culture,
we wanted to bring conflict and contradictions into it, not condemn it
from the outside looking in).86 Here we can note the aforementioned
incorporation into the novels of nonliterary textual forms such as historical
documents, diaries, newspaper articles; the insertion of Wu Mings own

interviews with historical figures into the mouths of fictional characters
in Asce di guerra (Hatchets of war); experimentation with unusual and
unexpected points of viewthe oblique gaze, as Wu Ming have it
where nonhuman entities can take on narrative functions; the cross-media
storytelling, Web-based reader interaction, and fan fiction of Manituana,
all encouraged by the online publication infrastructure of the novel; and
the attention to the way that linguistic structure itself can express political
forms, sensibilities, and relations of power.
To illustrate only the last of these features, the one that is most per-
tinent to this chapters discussion of the tangible qualities of mythical
language, Manituana is especially attentive to the politics of expression
that subtends more formal political structure. In one illuminating scene,
Joseph Brant, Iroquois protagonist and sometime translator, contemplates
the tensions of political negotiation, reflecting on the disjunction between
the visceral, expressive language of the Mohawk and English, the language
of clarity, order, and Empire. Interlaced with the particular narrative role
of the scene, this is a staging of the distinction between information and
myth and the latters affective, visceral, and nonlinear qualities:
English was a rougher, more concise language; in the journey from eyes to
mouth the words shrank, leaving part of their significance on the page. In
the language of the Empire, every cause was followed by a consequence,
to every action there was a single corresponding purpose, to every ac-
tion the most appropriate reaction. On the contrary, the language of the
Mohawk was full of details, run through with doubts, refined by constant
adjustments. Each word stretched and expanded to capture every possible
meaning and ring in the ear in the most consonant manner.87
Given the historical conjuncture, it goes without saying that this differ-
ence in expressive form was also a relation of domination and struggle,
the mechanisms of which include additional media specificities. I men-
tioned the colonial effects of the codex in chapter 1, to which we can add
the role of the page, taking a cue from the preceding passage. If the page
was immanent to the reduction of polyvocal meaning to order and linear
sequence, as Wu Ming here suggest, its integration in colonial power also
had particular medial features, a point well made by L.M. Findlay. The
forced encounter of Native American populations with treaties, ledger

books, schoolhouse lessons, and so on, was such that the colonizing
and assimilating page was to affect almost every aspect of Indigenous
life.88 Even the apparent tabula rasa quality of the pristine blank page
was an expression of colonial value and dispossession, for its adoption in
indigenous image making bore witness to the systematic extermination of
buffalo, whose hide had provided the traditional medium of inscription.
Findlay has pursued such effects through discussion of the ways that
writing and the page feature in ledger art, drawings by Native American
men on the backs of surplus ledger books, produced while in stockades
or reservations in the late nineteenth century. In one, whose visual nar-
rative features the distribution of treaty goods, the rectangular shape of
the Stars and Stripes flies over the scene, performing the symbolic work
of colonial rule that the page on which it is drawn reiterates:
The page, in the very rectangularity it shares with the flag, functions as
a kind of cultural or semiotic stockade, having the very shape that Chief
Joe Mathias would later have in mind when, after the collapse of the
fourth Canadian Conference on Aboriginal Self-Government, he told
his people that they would never be contained within the four corners
of a history book.89
The Styles of Malcolm X
There is little doubt that Wu Mings tastes are for the marginalized,
the defeated, the minor shades of historythis body of writing unfurls
as an epic of the ex-centris, a mythology of the excluded, to borrow
from Angelo Petrellas characterization of Q.90 Yet Wu Ming also engage
with established and enduring iconic examples of political myth, another
instance of unidentified mythopoesis interfering with the broad terrain
of popular culture. Wu Mings mythopoetical encounter with Malcolm
X is especially enticing in this regard, on the occasion of the fortieth an-
niversary of his assassination.
In keeping with the nonlinear, falsifying approach to history, this is
Malcolm X as a historical figure and a most contemporary myth, a rov-
ing and mediated power: When an actorany actorplays the part of
Malcolm X, its as if Malcolm possesses him.91 This time slip typical of

myth is here given contemporary purchase by the persistence of property
relations, as carried by Malcolms last nameor, rather, by its substitu-
tion with an X:
Renouncing the surname of a slave, the stigma of an ancient violation,

pulls the present into the discussion, the imposed identity, the role that
is assigned to us by the script of the winners. Putting into play a radical
discussion, this is to say, one that descends to the roots to reconquer
negated memory. Your ancestors were merchandise.92
Here the property form of the name that Foucault identified in the author-
function takes a different shape in modern capitalisms alloyed power
of primitive accumulation, where the name designates not privatization
of discourse but existence as fungible propertythe structural terror of
chattel slavery and its repercussions in the brutal architecture of racial-
ized dispossession today:
Malcolmfreed from the racist doctrines of Elijah Muhammad

understands even better that the horrors of slavery, of segregation and
inner colonialism of the USA dont depend on the evilness of the whites
(the devils with blue eyes), theyre not gratuitous nor unjustified, and
whats more, theyre necessary for the defence of property relationships.
Those who maintain the memory of slavery in the center of their own
reflection will arrive more easily at criticizing property.93
Malcolms X, then, recalls across time the violence of propertyjust

as it shatters the property relation of the name, constituting a nonfilial
and nonlinear field of struggle: George Washington exchanged his slave
for a barrel of molasses, but your grandfather wasnt a barrel of molas-
ses. Your grandfather was Nat Turner. Your grandfather was Toussaint
LOuverture.94
Constructed on this terrain of property and its negation, the myth of
Malcolm X lives as an affective patternMalcolm X became imprinted
upon my neuronsand as a style.95 I noted earlier that for Deleuze,
mythical affect comprises shattered states of emotions, pure images
and sounds without linkage to historical action, making reference in
particular to 1970s U.S. black cinema. But he has commented also that
from time to time, one does find a conjunction of such aesthetic qualities
with political struggle, a conjunction manifest in the gestures or styles
of historical personas: a coincidence of poetic acts and historical events
or political actions, the glorious incarnation of something sublime or
untimely. Such great coincidences are Nassers burst of laughter when he
nationalized Suez, or Castros gestures, and that other burst of laughter,
Giaps television interview.96 In the big scheme of things, these are tiny
events, but as fragmented blocs of style, image, and affect, they have a
joyous and untimely quality that works as a mythopoetical catalyst for
new worlds, for new patterns of political being.97 To expand on one of
Deleuzes examples, it is reported in Chris Markers A Grin without a Cat
(a film that is as concerned as Deleuze is with the politics of the miss-
ing people) that Castros habit of punctuating his oratory with nervous
adjustment to his microphone became a central affective operator of his
speeches, a part-object joyously anticipated by his audience. As the films
narrator comments, displaying an acute appreciation of the dynamics of
mythopoesis, it displayed Castros skill in turning the accidental into
the legendary. For Wu Ming, Malcolm X too has this untimely aesthetic
power, and in a way that underscores its fragmented quality, that which
might be lost in Deleuzes reference to Nasser and Castro, associated as
they are with the cult of personality. Malcolm communicates todayin a
manner so direct that it breaks the barriers of timeas a disaggregated
style, a layered and discontinuous arrangement of bodily and sonorous
parts: husky sounds [that] grab you by the shoulders, parables and
stories, rhetorical questions, body language, call and response
passages, close-cropped hair, the rims of his glasses, and the dazzle
of his smile.98
Granted, there are serious risks with this kind of focus on style, as is
apparent from the experience of another black radical icon of the period,
Angela Davis. In an essay reflecting on the multiple and contradictory
semiotic and political functions of her 1970s Afro or natural hairstyle,
which carried considerable mythopoetical force, Davis shows how this
complex aggregation of style and body politics was reduced over time to
a decontextualized fashion item, a unit of revolutionary glamor.99 Her
principal example is a 1994 docufashion re-creation in Vibe magazine of
her 1970s image, titled Free Angela: Actress Cynda Williams as Angela
Davis, a Fashion Revolutionary. An eight-page spread, one image is a re-
creation of her FBI Wanted poster, of which Davis comments: The way
in which this document provided a historical pretext for something akin
to a reign of terror for countless young Black women is effectively erased
by its use as a prop for selling clothes and promoting seventies fashion
nostalgia.100 Davis especially attends here to the destructive power of
photography, a power to arrest agency and atrophy memory, even in the
midst of social struggle. Though the stakes of Wu Mings intervention
are significantly less, it is a concern that they share. Wu Ming make no at-
tempt to hide their given names, but they refuse to appear on television or
allow their photographs to be taken, providing instead (until spring 2008)
a publicity image of a 1950s dance troupe devoid of faces and captioned
this revolution is faceless (Plate 13). They explain,
No photos, no filming. Once the writer becomes a face thats separate and
alienated..., its a cannibalistic jumble: that face appears everywhere,
almost always out of context. A photo is witness to my absence; its a
banner of distance and solitude. A photo paralyzes me, it freezes my life
into an instant, it negates my ability to transform into something else.
I become a character, a stopgap used to quickly fill a page layout, an
instrument that amplifies banality.101
This assessment of the closure attendant on facial representation does

not, however, extend to the public display of other component parts and
expressions of the human body, parts that can enfold and project experi-
ential and associational vitality:
On the other hand my voicewith its grain, with its accents, with its
imprecise diction, its tonalities, rhythms, pauses and vacillationsis wit-
ness to a presence even when Im not there; it brings me close to people
and doesnt negate my transformative capacity, because its presence is
dynamic, alive and trembling even when seemingly still.102
The fate of bodily images, parts, and styles is not only, then, to integrate
and paralyze political composition. Malcolm X does of course circulate
in culture as a unified photographic image. But Wu Mings engagement
suggests that in a disaggregated state, his style can maintain a propulsive
and critical vitality, alive and trembling at the borders of the facialized
subject.103 Malcolm is a fragmented set of affects, refrains, sounds, and
rhetorics constituted in the open and nonfilial community of the critique
of property, a mythical field evoked with an X.
With this single letter Anti-Book draws to a close. It may seem perverse
to end a book on the many materialities of political writing and publish-
ing with a solitary letter. But this is a visceral unit of mythical writing,
a textual mode where each word carries with it a world.104 Text has of
course been the focus of much attention in this book, but if there is a
central argument to Anti-Book, it is that the particular political qualities
of texts are only grasped when approached in relation to the media forms
that carry them, codetermine their meaning, collide with them, or leave
them aside in the pursuit of effects of an extratextual nature. As to myth,
the fragmented, partial world that it carries, its materiality, this oper-
ates against the reactionary powers of technified myth, from the cult of
personality to the wooden language than can consume activist culture,
with its linguistic clichs and integrated subjectivities. Through certain
textual procedures, it posits instead a peculiar kind of unidentified and
roving myth that is generated through the investigation and circulation
of affects, styles, values, across the divide between fiction and the real. In
this, one finds the imaginative, exploratory, and catalytic force of myth to
call forth new associations, new worlds, worlds born on the condition that
the people are missing, that inhere in a fragmentary, experimental state.
Not that this practice is devoid of purchase on the concrete conditions of
life, on the dynamic systems within which we are bound; what is perhaps
most ingenious in Wu Ming is their interlacing of a politics of mythical
invention with the critique of the intolerable of capital, as is especially
apparent in the engagement with Malcolm X.
In contrast to the concentrative and authoritarian function of the cult
of personalitypremised, at least in Maos case, on the singular truth
of the integrating leaderhere myth is a collective endeavor without a
determined subject, not a people but a processual monster, stitched
together and patched up through its situated, variable, and incompossible
iterations. Wu Mings not infrequent encounters with orthodox left icons
should be approached with this understandingit is as if these highly
Figure 14. Wu Mings portrait, 2009. Reproduced under a Creative Commons

License.
integrated images of concentrated state-myth call out to be rerouted and

potentialized through the disaggregating powers of the unidentified narra-
tive object. Something of this is apparent in Wu Mings later self-portrait
(Figure 14). Gamal Abdel Nasser provides a key component of the image,
but it is a strange montage, where Nassers face is multiplied fourfold and
placed on the heads of a filuzzi dance band. As fragments of pan-Arabist
icon, Mediterranean basin, Italian working-class musical culture, and
a certain 1950s proletarian style swirl together, the effect is uncanny
indeedquite the reverse of an integrated and subjectifying image, yet all
the more generative for it.105 But I will conclude with a similarly irreverent
image, one that takes us back to the personality who opened this chapter.
If Mao himself is not directly subject to such treatment, the iconography
of Chinese Maoism is. Identifying the link to the free digital downloads of
their books, Wu Mings English language website carries a familiar socialist
realist image of a triumphant worker holding aloft a copy of Maos Little
Red Book. But an addition to the image makes it a rather less common
communist montage: floating in the sky above is the disarming face of
Cary Grant, doubling the cult of personality and its transcendent regimes
of book-bound truth with an icon of a rather different order.
Notes
Preface
1 Franco Moretti, Style, Inc.: Reflections on 7,000 Titles (British Novels,

17401850), in Distant Reading (London: Verso, 2013), 181.
2 For further details about this 2006 artwork by Paolo Cirio, Alessandro
Ludovico, and Ubermorgen, see http://www.amazon-noir.com/. The
political, technological, and aesthetic dimensions of the project are criti-
cally considered in Michael Dieter, Amazon Noir: Piracy, Distribution,
Control, M/C Journal 10, no. 5 (2007), http://journal.media-culture.org
.au/0710/07-dieter.php.
3 Saree Makdisi, William Blake and the Impossible History of the 1790s (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 2003), 8. William Blake, Visions of the Daughters
of Albion, cited in ibid., 152. My gesture toward Blakes political aesthetics
of the book is indebted to Saree Makdisis wonderful writing on the theme.
See also his Reading William Blake (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2015), where he describes Blakes illuminated books as un-books.
4 William Blake, Europe, cited in Makdisi, William Blake, 41. William Blake,
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, in The Complete Illuminated Manu-
scripts (London: Thames and Hudson, 2000), 414.
5 Gilles Deleuze and Flix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and
Schizophrenia, trans. Brian Massumi (Minneapolis: University of Min-
nesota Press, 1987), 4.
6 Leah Price, How to Do Things with Books in Victorian Britain (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2012), 3536.
7 Guy Debord and Gil J. Wolman, Methods of Dtournement, in Situ-
ationist International Anthology, ed. and trans. Ken Knabb (Berkeley, Calif.:
Bureau of Public Secrets, 1981), 11.
1. One Manifesto Less
1 Andrew Murphie, Ghosted Publics: The Unacknowledged Collective

in the Contemporary Transformation of the Circulation of Ideas, in The
Mag.net Reader 3 (London: Mute Publications, 2008), 102.
301
302 notes to chapter 1
2 Lisa Gitelman, Paper Knowledge: Toward a History of Documents (Durham,

N.C.: Duke University Press, 2014), 3.
3 N. Katherine Hayles, How We Think: Digital Media and Contemporary
Technogenesis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012), 2.
4 Michele Zappavigna, Ambient Affiliation: A Linguistic Perspective on
Twitter, New Media and Society 13, no. 5 (2011): 788806.
5 Kenneth Goldsmith, Uncreative Writing: Managing Language in the Digital
Age (New York: Columbia University Press, 2011), 25.
6 Michele Moylan and Lane Stiles, eds., Reading Books: Essays on the Mate-
rial Text and Literature in America (Amherst: University of Massachusetts
Press, 1996), 12.
7 See Ann Burdick, Johanna Drucker, Peter Lunenfeld, Todd Presner, and Jef-
frey Schnapp, Digital_Humanities (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2012).
8 N. Katherine Hayles, Translating Media: Why We Should Rethink
Textuality, Yale Journal of Criticism 16, no. 2 (2003): 276.
9 N. Katherine Hayles, Writing Machines (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press,
2002), 25.
10 Ibid.
11 Ibid., 33.
12 I discuss the role of the reader at certain points, but not to a great extent, so
allow me to contribute to this dimension of a books materiality in a differ-
ent way, and in this open to the extratextual dimensions of the readership
of material text. Anti-Book is still a book, all too much of a book, so I invite
readers to perform an anti-book operation with it, upon it, against it. Should
you be willing to send me the new artifact or some form of documentation,
I will endeavor to respond in kind. I can be contacted at my work address.
13 Roger Chartier, Languages, Books, and Reading from the Printed Word
to the Digital Text, Critical Inquiry 31 (2004): 13352.
14 For a compelling example, see Hanna Kuusela, On the Materiality of
Contemporary Reading Formations: The Case of Jari Tervos Layla,
New Formations 78 (2013): 6582.
15 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and
Spread of Nationalism, rev. ed. (New York: Verso, 2006). Robert Darnton,
The Forbidden Best-Sellers of Pre-Revolutionary France (London: HarperCol-
lins, 1996).
16 Elizabeth L. Eisenstein, The Printing Press as Agent of Change (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1980).
17 Daniel Selcer, Philosophy and the Book: Early Modern Figures of Material
Inscription (London: Continuum, 2010), 1314.
18 Ibid., 15.
notes to chapter 1 303
19 Regarding the specifically technical aspects of fixity, Johns notes that the
first book reputed to have been printed without any errors appeared only
in 1760. Adrian Johns, The Nature of the Book: Print and Knowledge in the
Making (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 31. It is an appealing
confluence that the theoretical self-identity of the book qua commodity
became true to its word at about the time William Blakes illuminated
books introduced error or variability into the production process as an
intrinsic feature of the practical overcoming of that commodity.
20 Ibid., 23.
21 Ibid., 28.
22 Johanna Drucker, The Century of Artists Books (New York: Granary,
2004), 2.
23 Clive Phillpot, Booktrek: Selected Essays on Artists Books (19722010)
(Zurich: JRP Ringier and Les presses du reel, 2012), 148. Before this aes-
thetic field arrived at a name, Phillpot remarks that he would describe the
earliest instances he encountered in the late 1960s as odd pamphlets, a
term I rather wish had stuck. Ibid., 12.
24 Rosalind E. Krauss, A Voyage on the North Sea: Art in the Age of the Post-
Medium Condition (London: Thames and Hudson, 1999). Rosalind E.
Krauss, Under Blue Cup (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2011).
25 Krauss, Voyage on the North Sea, 7.
26 A self-differing medium can hence displace and cut across any particular
material support. For instance, the medium of work by Ed Ruscha,
whose Twenty Six Gasoline Stations (1962) is usually taken as the founding
instance of the artists book, is for Krauss not the book as such but the
automobile. See Krauss, Under Blue Cup, 20, 7378.
27 Ulises Carrin, The New Art of Making Books, in Book Art: A Critical
Anthology and Sourcebook, ed. Joan Lyons (Rochester, N.Y.: Visual Studies
Workshop Press, 1985), 31, 32, 40, emphasis added. I would downplay the
place of artists intention at the end of Carrins sentence, for the agency
here is complex and emergent.
28 Flix Guattari, Schizoanalytic Cartographies, trans. Andrew Goffey (Lon-
don: Bloomsbury, 2013), 253, 255.
29 Richard Kostelanetz, Why Assembling, 1973, http://www.richardkostela
netz.com/examples/whyassem.html.
30 Richard Kostelanetz, Book Art, in Lyons, Book Art, 27, 29.
31 Lucy R. Lippard, Six Years: The Dematerialization of the Art Object from
1966 to 1972 (London: Studio Vista, 1973).
32 Lucy R. Lippard, Conspicuous Consumption: New Artists Books, in
Lyons, Book Art, 50.
33 Krauss, Under Blue Cup, 32. Alexander Alberro, Conceptual Art and the
Politics of Publicity (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2003). Many thanks
for this point to Stephen Zepke and one of the anonymous readers of this
book in manuscript.
34 Gwen Allen, Artists Magazines: An Alternative Space for Art (Cambridge,
Mass.: MIT Press, 2011), 219.
35 For more on the political dimensions of the artists book, see Janneke
Adema and Gary Hall, The Political Nature of the Book: On Artists
Books and Radical Open Access, New Formations 78 (2013): 13856.
36 See Drucker, Century of Artists Books, chapter 11.
37 Lippard, Conspicuous Consumption, 50.
38 Phillpot, Booktrek, 5, 22.
39 Michael Hampton, THEARTISTSBOOKANEWHISTORY (London:
Banner Repeater, 2011). Kostelanetz makes a related point with regard
to the accepted nomination for this genre of work as artists books. It
focuses attention on the artist rather than the object (whereas the art
at hand is books, no matter who did them) and serves to isolate them as
artworks from other media forms (the term artists books incorporates
the suggestion that such work should be set aside in a space separate from
writers books). Kostelanetz, Book Art, 2930.
40 Allen, Artists Magazines, 241.
41 Richard Kostelanetz, Why Assembling.
42 Allen, Artists Magazines, 241. Richard Kostelanetz, Why Assembling.
43 Richard Kostelanetz, Assembling, http://www.poetrymagazines.org
.uk/magazine/record.asp?id=18202.
44 Karl Young, Foreword to Assembling 12, http://www.spunk.org/texts
/art/sp000177.html.
45 Richard Kostelanetz, Why A Critical Assembling, in A Critical (Ninth)
Assembling (Precisely: 6789), ed. Richard Kostelanetz (New York: Assem-
bling Press, 1979).
46 Young, Foreword to Assembling 12.
47 Richard Kostelanetz, Why A Critical Assembling.
48 Kostelanetz, cited in Allen, Artists Magazines, 241.
49 I take the formulation, with thanks, from one of the anonymous readers
of this book in manuscript.
50 Rgis Debray, Socialism: A Life-Cycle, New Left Review 46 (2007):
5. The essay is extracted from his 1991 work, Cours de mdiologie
gnrale.
51 Ibid., 5.
52 Ibid., 6.
53 V.I. Lenin, The Plan for an All-Russian Political Newspaper, in What
Is to Be Done? Burning Questions of Our Movement, 14974 (Peking: Foreign
Languages Press, 1973).
54 Debray, Socialism: A Life-Cycle, 8.
55 Vilm Flusser, Does Writing Have a Future?, trans. Nancy Ann Roth (Min-
neapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011), 40.
56 Ibid., 26.
57 Troploin [Gilles Dauv and Karl Nesic], Whats It All About? Questions
and Answers, Troploin Newsletter, no. 4, April 2007, 2, http://libcom.org
/library/whats-it-all-about-questions-answers-troploin.
58 Kevin Gilmartin, Print Politics: The Press and Radical Opposition in Early
Nineteenth-Century England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1996), 65.
59 James Vernon, Politics and the People: A Study in English Political Culture,
c. 18151867 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 105.
60 Ibid.
61 Ibid., 106.
62 Iain McCalman, Radical Underworld: Prophets, Revolutionaries, and
Pornographers in London, 17951840 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988),
152.
63 We can and must immediately set about founding the Party organand,
it follows, the Party itselfand putting them on a sound footing. V.I.
Lenin, An Urgent Question, in Lenin Collected Works (Moscow: Progress,
1964), 4:221.
64 Debray, Socialism: A Life-Cycle, 14, 18, 15.
65 Ibid., 22.
66 Ibid., 24.
67 Ibid., 9.
68 Ibid., 5.
69 Thorie Communiste, Much Ado about Nothing, Endnotes 1 (2008): 155.
70 Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, The Holy Family; or Critique of Critical
Criticism, in Karl Marx and Frederick Engels Collected Works (London:
Lawrence and Wishart, 1975), 4:36.
71 Moishe Postone, Time, Labor, and Social Domination: A Reinterpretation of
Marxs Critical Theory (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 8.
72 Ibid., 9.
73 Thorie Communiste, Much Ado about Nothing, 156.
74 Ibid., 174.
75 Ibid., 157.
76 Gilles Dauv, Leninism and the Ultra-Left, in The Eclipse and Re-
Emergence of the Communist Movement, rev. ed., by Gilles Dauv and
Franois Martin, 6375 (London: Antagonism Press, 1997).
77 Afterword, Endnotes 1 (2008): 214.
78 Endnotes, What Are We to Do?, in Communization and Its Discontents:
Contestation, Critique, and Contemporary Struggles, ed. Benjamin Noyes
(New York: Minor Compositions, n.d.), 29.
79 Ibid., 28.
80 Comit [Maurice Blanchot], [Communism without Heirs], in Maurice
Blanchot, Political Writings, 19531993, trans. Zakir Paul (New York:
Fordham University Press, 2003), 93.
81 Eric Hobsbawm, The Communist Manifesto in Perspective, http://
www.transform-network.net/journal/issue-112012/news/detail/Journal
/the-communist-manifesto-in-perspective.html.
82 Martin Puchner, Poetry of the Revolution: Marx, Manifestos, and the Avant-
Gardes (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2006).
83 I have approached the question of the manifestos subject in relation to the
subject of modern revolution, but the manifesto has a broader and intrinsic
relation to the emergence and self-representations of the bourgeois subject
of the modern nation-state, a point well made by Janet Lyon, Manifes-
toes: Provocations of the Modern (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press,
1991).
84 Alain Badiou, The Century, trans. Alberto Toscano (Cambridge: Polity
Press, 2007), 139, 138, emphasis added.
85 Badiou quotes Mallarm to illustrate this convulsive conjunction of ac-
tion with undoing: the drama takes place all at once, just in time to
show its undoing, which unfolds like lightning. Ibid., 136.
86 Ibid., 140, 139, 136, 139.
87 Guy Debord, Document beyond Debate, trans. Ken Knabb and Not
Bored!, http://www.notbored.org/orientation36.html.
88 Gilles Deleuze, One Manifesto Less, trans. Alan Orenstein, in The
Deleuze Reader, ed. Constantin V. Boundas, 20422 (New York: Colum-
bia University Press, 1993). Deleuze uses this formulation to describe
Carmello Benes subtractive approach to theater, where constants of
character, subject, and textthat which orchestrates and dominates the
narrative and performative fieldare subtracted to allow a-subjective
dimensions and conditions of expression to emerge, what he calls minor
theater.
89 Kathi Weeks, The Critical Manifesto: Marx and Engels, Haraway,

and Utopian Politics, Utopian Studies 24, no. 2 (2013): 21631. Lyon,
Manifestoes.
90 Valerie Solanas, SCUM Manifesto (1967), 1. This passage includes scare
quotes around Life and society that were removed in the Olympia
Press edition. I quote from the copy held by the Dobkin Family Collection
of Feminism, with thanks.
91 Melissa D. Deem, From Bobbitt to SCUM: Re-memberment, Scatological
Rhetorics, and Feminist Strategies in the Contemporary United States,
Public Culture 9 (1996): 527.
92 Solanas, SCUM Manifesto, 13. Deem, From Bobbitt to SCUM, 531.
93 Lyon, Manifestoes, 175.
94 The defaced edition was discovered by Laura Winkiel.
95 Laura Winkiel, The Sweet Assassin and the Performative Politics of
SCUM Manifesto, in The Queer Sixties, ed. Patricia Juliana Smith (New
York: Routledge, 1999), 74.
96 Sara Warner and Mary Jo Watts, Hide and Go Seek: Childs Play as
Archival Act in Valerie Solanass SCUM Manifesto, TDR: The Dra-
ma Review 58, no. 4 (2014): 91. I am grateful to Sara Warner for an-
swering my questions about the finer points of Solanass publishing
practices.
97 Ibid.
98 Warner and Watts argue that Solanass very first references to something
called the SCUM Manifesto were actually to a different text, titled
SCUM (Society for Cutting Up Men), a one-page A4 flier comprising
only two paragraphs and a notice for a SCUM Forum. This time it included
an image, though nothing like a reader-seducing face, but a pen-line sketch
of a hand flipping the middle finger, which Solanas had also used as the
cover art to Up Your Ass. A reproduction of this proto-edition is included
in Warner and Watts, Hide and Go Seek, 81.
99 Mary Harron, cited in Dana Heller, Shooting Solanas: Radical Feminist
History and the Technology of Failure, Feminist Studies 27, no. 1 (2001):
171.
100 Ibid., 175, 171.
101 Ibid., 186.
102 Sara Warner, Acts of Gaiety: LGBT Performance and the Politics of Pleasure
(Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2012), 66.
103 SCUM will become members of the unwork force, the fuck-up force; they
will get jobs of various kinds and unwork. Solanas, SCUM Manifesto, 17.
104 Warner, Acts of Gaiety.

105 Girodias advanced Solanas $500 for an autobiographical novel, with the
promise of a further $1,500. When the novel failed to appear, he accepted
Solanass manuscript of SCUM Manifesto in its place.
106 Valerie Solanas, cited in Breanne Fahs, Valerie Solanas: The Defiant Life of
the Woman Who Wrote SCUM (and Shot Andy Warhol) (New York: Feminist
Press, 2014), 299, 297.
107 Solanass copyright applications are detailed in Warner, Acts of Gaiety.
108 Ibid., 52.
109 Solanas, cited in ibid., 35.
110 Valerie Solanas, cited in Mary Harron, Introduction: On Valerie Sola-
nas, in Mary Harron and Daniel Minahan, I Shot Andy Warhol (London:
Bloomsbury, 1996), xxvi.
111 Lyon, Manifestoes, 10.
112 See Nick Mirzoeff, On Hardt and Negris Declaration, http://www.ni
cholasmirzoeff.com/O2012/2012/05/09/on-hardt-and-negris-declarat
ion/. Jason Reed, Revolution in Theory/Theorizing Revolution: On
Hardt and Negris Declaration, http://www.unemployednegativity
.com/2012/05/revolution-in-theorytheorizing.html. A print edition of
Declaration, at a more typical price, was issued at a later date.
113 This echoes the design of Quaderni rossi, a journal foundational to the
Italian Operaismo movement with which Negri was of course closely
associated. As Mario Tronti recalls: Quaderni rossi was a beautiful ti-
tle for a journal, with an evocative simplicity, eloquent in itself. Note-
books expressed the will for research, analysis and study. The red of
the cover was the sign of a decision, a commitment to be this. To start
the writing, and therefore the reading, on the front coverblack on
redwas a brilliant idea on Panzieris part. Mario Tronti, Our Op-
eraismo, trans. Eleanor Chiari, New Left Review 73 (2012): 123. For dis-
cussion of the materiality of publishing in Operaismo, see the excellent
essay by Steve Wright, I Came Like the Thunder and I Vanish Like
the Wind: Exploring Genre Repertoire and Document Work in the As-
semblea Operai e Studenti of1969, Archival Science 12, no. 4 (2012):
41136.
114 Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Declaration (n.p.: Argo Navis Author
Services, 2012).
115 Ibid.
116 Paul Mason, Why Israel Is Losing the Social Media War over Gaza,
http://blogs.channel4.com/paul-mason-blog/impact-social-media-israel
gaza-conflict/1182.
117 I have discussed this in Nicholas Thoburn, Vacuoles of Noncommunica-

tion: Minor Politics, Communist Style, and the Multitude, in Deleuze
and the Contemporary World, ed. Ian Buchanan and Adrian Parr, 4256
(Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2006).
118 Gilles Deleuze, Negotiations 19721990, trans. Martin Joughin (New York:
Columbia University Press, 1995), 175.
119 Gilles Deleuze, Cinema 2: The Time-Image, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and
Robert Galeta (London: Athlone Books, 1989), 269.
120 Ibid., 262.
121 Deleuze, Negotiations, 129.
122 Jodi Dean, Blog Theory: Feedback and Capture in the Circuits of Drive
(Cambridge: Polity Press, 2010), 95.
123 Jodi Dean, Communicative Capitalism and Class Struggle, Spheres 1
(2014): 6.
124 Dean, Blog Theory, 95.
125 Beverley Skeggs and Simon Yuill, Capital Experimentation with Person/a
Formation: How Facebooks Monetization Refigures the Relationship
between Property, Personhood and Protest, Information, Communication,
and Society 19, no. 3 (2016).
126 Robert W. Gehl, The Archive and the Processor: The Internal Logic of
Web 2.0, New Media and Society 13, no. 8 (2011): 1232.
127 Skeggs and Yuill, Capital Experimentation with Person/a Formation,
5.
128 Ibid. Ippolita, The Facebook Aquarium: The Resistible Rise of Anarcho-
Capitalism, trans. Patrice Riemens and Cecile Landman (Amsterdam:
Institute of Network Cultures, 2015).
129 Dean, Communicative Capitalism and Class Struggle, 9, emphasis added.
130 Jodi Dean, Publicitys Secret: How Technoculture Capitalizes on Democracy
(Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2002). Dean, Communicative
Capitalism and Class Struggle.
131 For extensive critique of activist use of social media, see Lina Dencik and
Oliver Leistert, eds., Critical Perspectives on Social Media Protest: Between
Control and Emancipation (London: Rowman and Littlefield, 2015), and
Natalie Fenton, Left Out? Digital Media, Radical Politics and Social
Change, Information, Communication, and Society 19, no. 3 (2016): 34661.
132 For a communist critique of this body of work, see Nicholas Thoburn,
Do Not Be Afraid, Join Us, Come Back? On the Idea of Communism
in Our Time, Cultural Critique 84 (2013): 134.
133 Jodi Dean, The Communist Horizon (London: Verso, 2012).
135 Ibid., 1, 3.
136 Dean, Communicative Capitalism and Class Struggle, 11.
138 Ted Striphas, The Late Age of Print: Everyday Book Culture from Consumer-
ism to Control (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 6.
139 For an excellent recent account of the neoliberal uses of culture and
creativity with regard to governance and literature, see Sarah Brouillette,
Literature and the Creative Economy (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University
Press, 2014).
140 Culture is bound to the book. The book as a repository and a receptacle
of knowledge becomes identified with knowledge. Maurice Blanchot,
The Absence of the Book, in The Infinite Conversation, trans. Susan
Hanson (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993), 423.
141 Trish Travis, Ideas and Commodities: The Image of the Book, MIT
Communications Forum, 1999, http://web.mit.edu/comm-forum/papers
/travis.html.
142 Laura J. Miller, Reluctant Capitalists: Bookselling and the Culture of Con-
sumption (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007), 28.
143 Lucien Febvre and Henri-Jean Martin, The Coming of the Book, trans.
David Gerard (London: Verso, 1997), 109.
144 Marshall McLuhan, The Gutenberg Galaxy: The Making of Typographic Man
(Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1962), 125. Anderson, Imagined
Communities, 34.
145 Abbott Payson Usher, History of Mechanical Inventions, cited in McLuhan,
Gutenberg Galaxy, 124.
146 Ibid., 132.
147 D.F. McKenzie, Printers of the Mind: Some Notes on Bibliographical
Theories and Printing-House Practices, Studies in Bibliography 22 (1969):
175. I take this reference from Gitelman, Paper Knowledge, 85.
148 See Makdisi, William Blake and the Impossible History of the 1790s, 146.
149 Febvre and Martin, Coming of the Book, 248, 350.
150 Tim Ingold, Lines: A Brief History (London: Routledge, 2007), 127,
128.
151 Ibid.
152 Ibid.
153 Febvre and Martin, Coming of the Book, 22, 29.
154 Luthers works represented approximately one-third of all German-
language books sold between 1518 and 1525. He was the first writer who
could sell his new books on the basis of his name. Anderson, Imagined
Communities, 39.
155 N.N. Feltes, Modes of Production of Victorian Novels (Chicago: University

of Chicago Press, 1986), 7.
156 Ibid., 8.
157 Pierre Macherey, A Theory of Literary Production, cited in ibid., 8.
158 Miller, Reluctant Capitalists. Claire Squires, Marketing Literature: The
Making of Contemporary Writing in Britain (London: Palgrave Macmillan,
2009). Striphas, Late Age of Print.
159 Striphas, Late Age of Print, 8, 102.
160 Ibid., 43.
161 George Steiner, After the Book?, in On Difficulty and Other Essays
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980), 18889.
162 See Hayles, How We Think, 5579.
163 Janet Duitsman Cornelius, When I Can Read My Title Clear: Literacy,
Slavery, and Religion in the Antebellum South (Columbia: University of
South Carolina Press, 1991).
164 James Thompson, Models of Value: Eighteenth-Century Political Economy
and the Novel (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1996).
165 Ibid., 7.
166 Walter Mignolo, Signs and Their Transmission: The Question of the
Book in the New World, in Writing without Words: Alternative Literacies
in Mesoamerica and the Andes, ed. Elizabeth Hill Boone and Walter D.
Mignolo (London: Duke University Press, 1994), 233.
167 Ibid., 234.
168 D.F. McKenzie, Bibliography and the Sociology of Texts (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 1999), 41.
169 David Jay Bolter, Writing Space: The Computer, Hypertext, and the History
of Writing (Hillside, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1991), 4.
170 Ibid., 116.
171 Ibid., 117.
172 Ibid., 2.
173 Striphas, Late Age of Print, 2.
174 Ibid., 3. Hayles, How We Think, 2.
175 In August 2012, Amazon reported that e-book sales outstripped hardback
and paperback books combined, at a ratio of 114 to 100. See http://www
.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/aug/06/amazon-kindle-ebook-sales-overtake
-print.
176 Kim Cascone, cited in Florian Cramer, afterword to Post-Digital Print: The
Mutation of Publishing since 1894, by Alessandro Ludovico (Eindhoven,
Netherlands: Onomatopee, 2012), 162. Cramer credits Cascone with coin-
ing the term post-digital, with regard to glitch aesthetics in electronic music.
177 Florian Cramer, What Is Post-Digital?, Post-Digital Research 3, no. 1

(2014), http://www.aprja.net/?p=1318.
178 Florian Cramer, Post-Digital Writing, Electronic Book Review, 2012,
http://www.electronicbookreview.com/thread/electropoetics/postal.
179 Murphie, Ghosted Publics, 105.
180 Nina Power, A Pamphlet about a Book about a Blog (London: Banner Re-
peater, 2012).
181 Simon Worthington, Danger: Contains Books, in I Read Where I Am: Ex-
ploring New Information Cultures, ed. Mieke Gerritzen, Geert Lovink, and
Minke Kampman (Amsterdam: Valiz, 2011), 174. In keeping with the criti-
cal sensibility of the post-digital, the purpose of Worthingtons intervention
here is to break with the distracting and disabling talk of the books imminent
demise and to tip instead into critical engagement with the more pertinent
question of the political economy of corporate and small press publishing.
182 Jacques Derrida, Paper Machine, trans. Rachel Bowlby (Stanford, Calif.:
Stanford University Press, 2005), 17.
183 Johanna Drucker, SpecLab: Digital Aesthetics and Projects in Speculative
Computing (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009), 166.
184 Jerome McGann, Radiant Textuality: Literature after the World Wide Web
(New York: Palgrave, 2001), 184.
185 See, among other works, Johanna Drucker, Diagrammatic Writing, New
Formations 78 (2013): 83101, and Drucker, SpecLab.
186 Gary Hall, The Unbound Book: Academic Publishing in the Age of the
Infinite Archive, Journal of Visual Culture 12, no. 3 (2013): 497. See also
Joost Kircz and Adriaan van der Weel, eds., The Unbound Book (Amster-
dam: Amsterdam University Press, 1994).
187 http://p-dpa.net.
188 Silvio Lorusso, Post-Digital Publishing Archive, https://ia600509.us
.archive.org/15/items/p-dpa_booklet/p-dpa_booklet.pdf.
189 Cramer, What Is Post-Digital?
190 Cramer, Post-Digital Writing.
191 These fairs and institutions have all been established since 2000, with
the exception of the London Anarchist Bookfair, first held in 1983; Book
Works, established in 1984; Franklin Furnace, established by Martha
Wilson in 1976; and Printed Matter, founded by Lucy Lippard, Sol LeWitt,
and others in 1976.
192 AND About, http://www.andpublishing.org/events/coming-soon/.
193 Simon Reynolds, Retromania: Pop Cultures Addiction to Its Own Past
(London: Faber and Faber, 2012). Jess Baines, Radical Print Revolution?
Objects under Capitalism, STRIKE! 8 (2014): 2021.
194 Derrida, Paper Machine, 47.
195 Hayles, Writing Machines, 2934.

196 Christina Kiaer, Imagine No Possessions: The Socialist Objects of Russian
Constructivism (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2005).
197 Deleuze, Cinema 2, 150. Gilles Deleuze, Essays Critical and Clinical,
trans. Daniel W. Smith and Michael A. Greco (Minneapolis: University
of Minnesota Press, 1997), 118.
2. Communist Objects and Small Press Pamphlets
1 Guy Debord to Ivan Chtcheglov, April 30, 1963, http://www.notbored.org

/debord-30April1963.html. In a later text written at the time of the demise
of the Situationist International, Debords ambivalence about the journal
form extends also to its role of holding on to a base, where its periodicity
is tied to conservative habits of consumption. Ending the journal has the
merit, as he sees it, of interrupt[ing] the conditioned reflex of a spectator
crowd...who had awaited the next number of the review which it had
picked up the habit of consuming, so as to bring to light its knowledge
and its dreamed of orthodoxy. It seemed to us...better to cease the
publication of a review which was beginning to enjoy a too routinish suc-
cess. Other forms of situationist expression are more suitable to the new
epoch. Unattributed [Guy Debord], Notes to Serve towards the History
of the S.I. from 19691971, in The Veritable Split in the International, by
Situationist International (London: B.M. Chronos, 1985), 73, 74.
2 Jean-Luc Nancy, The Inoperative Community, trans. Peter Connor et al.
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1991).
3 Jacques Rancire, The Nights of Labor: The Workers Dream in the Nineteenth
Century, trans. John Drury (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1989), 8.
4 Ibid.
5 Ibid.
6 Rancire, cited in Donald Reid, Introduction, ibid., xxxi.
7 Ibid., xxxv.
8 Jacques Rancire, Mute Speech: Literature, Critical Theory, and Politics
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2011), 5859.
9 Ibid., 59.
10 Kiaer, Imagine No Possessions, 33.
11 Rodchenko, in ibid., 1. While the casual way that Rodchenko deploys
slavery for metaphoric effect is objectionable, the relation he names con-
tains the appalling truth that the social form of slavery reduced people to
a-social and alienable units of property, precisely to the form of commod-
ity object. Also problematic is his identification here of the racial trope
of blackness with passivity (the sorry state of the black and mournful),
though blackness figures later in the letter in a more critical manner, as

the black work of reprisal against [the commoditys] oppressors.
Aleksandr Rodchenko, Experiments of the Future: Diaries, Essays, Letters,
and Other Writings, ed. Alexander N. Lavrentiev, trans. Jamey Gambrell
(New York: MoMA, 2005), 169.
12 Kiaer, Imagine No Possessions, 7.
13 Boris Arvatov, Everyday Life and the Culture of the Thing (toward the
Formulation of the Question), trans. Christina Kiaer, October 81 (1997):
120.
14 Ibid., 121, 126.
15 Ibid., 123.
16 Ibid., 123, 124.
17 Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts, in Early Writings,
trans. trans. Rodney Livingstone and Gregor Benton, 279400 (Harmond-
sworth, U.K.: Penguin, 1975), 352.
18 Arvatov, Everyday Life and the Culture of the Thing, 122.
19 Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, trans. Ben Fowkes
(Harmondsworth, U.K.: Penguin, 1976), 1:165.
20 Ibid.
21 Communisation and Value-Form Theory, Endnotes 2 (2010): 79.
22 Peter Stallybrass, Marxs Coat, in Border Fetishisms: Material Objects
in Unstable Spaces, ed. Patricia Spyer (New York: Routledge, 1998), 184.
Whether Marx was fully aware of the joke he had made here or was using
fetishism in a more conventional fashion to name a social illusion and,
by way of analogy, undermine the pretensions to rationality of capitalist
modernity is a moot point. For an exploration of the many dimensions
of Marxs use of the anthropological concept of fetishism in currency
at the time, see William Pietz, Fetishism and Materialism: The Limits
of Theory in Marx, in Fetishism as Cultural Discourse, ed. Emily Apter
and William Pietz, 11951 (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1993).
23 Arvatov, Everyday Life and the Culture of the Thing, 121, 124.
24 Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts, 352.
25 Ibid., 352, 390. As Peter Pels remarks, this passage does not at all exclude
the possibility that to be sensuous is to be subjected to the actions of
another thing. Pels, The Spirit of Matter: On Fetish, Rarity, Fact, and
Fancy, in Spyer, Border Fetishisms, 101.
26 Arvatov, Everyday Life and the Culture of the Thing, 126.
27 Boris Arvatov, From Art and Class (1923), in The Tradition of Construc-
tivism, ed. Stephen Bann (London: Thames and Hudson, 1974), 45, 46.
28 Cited in Kiaer, Imagine No Possessions, 49.
29 Arvatov, Everyday Life and the Culture of the Thing, 127. I should note
that Arvatovs argument also contains a more conventional understanding
of the conquest and mastery of nature.
30 Ibid., 128.
31 Ibid., 48, 47.
32 Lenins proselytizing for Taylorism and labor discipline and Trotskys
championing of the militarization of labor are the overt expressions of
this problem. See Thoburn, Do Not Be Afraid.
33 Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts, 351. Quotation of this
passage from Marx can be found on two consecutive pages of the Arcades
Project, one of which is the occasion for Benjamin to deduce the political
import of the collectors critique of use. Walter Benjamin, The Arcades
Project, trans. Howard Eiland and Kevin McLaughlin (Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard University Press, 2002), 209, 210.
34 Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts, 352.
35 Ibid., 209, emphasis added. Theodor W. Adorno, Exchange with Theodor
W. Adorno on the Essay: Paris, the Capital of the Nineteenth Century,
in Walter Benjamin, Walter Benjamin: Selected Writings. Vol. 3, 19351938,
ed. Michael W. Jennings, Howard Eiland, and Gary Smith (Cambridge,
Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2002), 61.
36 Benjamin, Arcades Project, 9.
37 Ibid., 205, 206.
38 Esther Leslie, Telescoping the Microscopic Object: Benjamin the Col-
lector, in The Optic of Walter Benjamin, ed. Alex Coles (London: Black
Dog, 2001), 80. Benjamin, Arcades Project, 206.
39 Benjamin, Unpacking My Library, in Illuminations, ed. Hannah Arendt,
trans. Harry Zohn (New York: Schocken Books, 2007), 60.
40 For Benjamins critique of work, see Benjamin, Theses on the Philosophy
of History, in Benjamin, Illuminations, 259.
41 Benjamin, Arcades Project, 475, 204. Stephen Zepke has shown that a
related formulation can be found in Mikhail Bakhtins understanding
of the work of art, which emerges from a process that first of all iso-
lates something from its self-evidence in the world, giving it an active
indetermination within reality. Zepke, From Aesthetic Autonomy to
Autonomist Aesthetics: Art and Life in Guattari, in The Guattari Ef-
fect, ed. ric Alliez and Andrew Goffey (New York: Continuum Books,
2011), 209.
42 Cesare Casarino, Modernity at Sea: Melville, Marx, Conrad in Crisis (Min-
neapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2002), xxvii.
43 Ibid.
44 Benjamin, Unpacking My Library, 60. N.A. Basbanes, A Gentle Mad-

ness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books (New York:
Henry Holt, 1999).
45 Benjamin, Thesis on the Philosophy of History, 261, 262.
46 Benjamin, cited in Erdmut Wizisla, preface to Walter Benjamins Archive:
Images, Texts, Signs, ed. Ursula Marx, trans. Esther Leslie (London: Verso,
2007), 5.
47 Benjamin, Unpacking My Library, 67.
48 Benjamin, cited in Ackbar Abbas, Walter Benjamins Collector: The Fate
of Modern Experience, in Modernity and the Text: Revisions of German
Modernism, ed. Andreas Huyssen and David Bathrick (New York: Co-
lumbia University Press 1989), 216.
49 Benjamin, Unpacking My Library, 67. Douglas Crimp, On the Museums
Ruins (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1993), 204.
50 Benjamin, Charles Baudelaire: A Lyric Poet in the Era of High Capitalism,
trans. Harry Zohn (London: Verso, 1983), 181, 182.
51 Andr Breton, Mad Love, trans. Mary Ann Caws (Lincoln: University of
Nebraska Press, 1988), 126.
52 Ibid., 28, 36.
53 Romy Golan, Triangulating the Surrealist Fetish, Visual Anthropology
Review 10, no. 1 (1994): 5065.
54 Gilles Deleuze and Flix Guattari, Balance-Sheet Program for Desiring
Machines, in Flix Guattari, Chaosophy, ed. Sylvre Lotringer (New York:
Semiotext(e), 1995), 135.
55 Denis Hollier, The Use-Value of the Impossible, trans. Liesl Ollman,
October 60 (1992): 20.
56 Georges Bataille, in ibid., 22.
57 Pels, Spirit of Matter, 99.
58 William Pietz, The Problem of the Fetish, I, Res 9 (1985): 5, 7.
59 Pels, Spirit of Matter, 98.
60 Ibid.
61 Bakkers Untitled Project: Commodity [Capital] was exhibited at The Irresist-
ible Force at Londons Tate Modern in 2007 and was temporarily available
for mail order at the same price as the Penguin edition.
62 Trish Travis, Ideas and Commodities: The Image of the Book, http://
web.mit.edu/comm-forum/papers/travis.html.
63 William Everson, From the Poem as IconReflections on Printing as a
Fine Art, in A Book of the Book: Some Work and Projections about the Book
and Writing, ed. Jerome Rothenberg and Steven Clay (New York: Granary
Books, 2000), 50.

65 Walter Benjamin, One-Way Street (Selection), in Reflections: Essays,
Aphorisms, Autobiographical Writings, trans. Edmund Jephcott (New York:
Schocken Books, 1978), 61.
66 Agnes Blaha, Tackling TactilityWhat Is It That Makes Theorists
Shy Away from the Haptic Domain?, in NO-ISBN: On Self-Publishing,
ed. Bernhard Cella, Leo Findeisen, and Agnes Blaha, 27784 (Cologne,
Germany: Buchhandlung Walther Knig, 2015), 281.
67 Philip Dormer Stanhope, cited in Price, How to Do Things with Books in
Victorian Britain, 3.
69 Theodor W. Adorno, Bibliographical Musings, in Notes to Literature
(New York: Columbia University Press, 1992), 2:21.
70 Ibid., 2:23.
71 Ibid., 2:20.
72 Ibid., 2:28.
73 Ibid., 2:21.
74 Theodor W. Adorno, Minima Moralia: Reflections from Damaged Life, trans.
E.F.N. Jephcott (New York: Verso, 2005), 80, 101.
75 Adorno, Bibliographical Musings, 2:25.
76 Ibid., 2:26
77 Ibid., 2:25.
78 Fredric Jameson, Marxism and Form: Twentieth Century Dialectical Theories
of Literature (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1971), 7.
79 Adorno, Bibliographic Musings, 2:30.
80 Ibid.
81 Ibid.
82 Ibid.
83 Ibid.
84 Ibid.
85 Ibid.
86 Ibid., 2:29.
87 Jameson, Marxism and Form, 8.
88 Adorno, Bibliographical Musings, 2:31.
89 Ibid., 2:23.
90 I am not suggesting a historically continuous object over this period.
As a mutable assemblage of changing technical skills, printing practices
and conventions, materials, financial paradigms, reading habits, political
constituencies, distribution circuits, and so on, the nature of the pamphlet
has been a highly various object over time and place.
91 Drucker, Century of Artists Books, 358, 8.

92 Price, How to Do Things with Books, 13.
93 Iain Sinclair, Lights Out for the Territory: 9 Excursions in the Secret History
of London (London: Granta Books, 1997), 25.
94 Jason Skeet and Mark Pawson, Counter Intelligence: Catalogue of Self-
Published and Autonomous Print-Creations (London, 1995).
95 See http://www.guest-room.net/.
96 Stphane Mallarm, The Book: A Spiritual Instrument, trans. Bradford
Cook, in Critical Theory since Plato, ed. Hazard Adams (New York: Har-
court Brace, 1971), 690, 691.
97 Gilles Deleuze, The Fold: Leibniz and the Baroque, trans. Tom Conley
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993), 31. Gilles Deleuze,
Proust and Signs, trans. Richard Howard (New York: Braziller, 1972),
98, 103.
98 Deleuze, The Fold, 31.
99 Adorno, Bibliographic Musings, 20.
100 Ibid., 27.
101 Deleuze, Proust and Signs, 100.
102 Ibid., 109, 101.
103 Deleuze, The Fold, 31.
104 Ibid., 86.
105 Beni Memorial Library, The On Organization PamphletA Biblio-
graphical Dissection, 1976, one A4 page.
106 Ibid.
107 Drucker, Century of Artists Books, 358.
108 Henriette Heise and Jakob Jakobsen, Info 2, http://infocentre.antipool
.org/. The collaborative practice at Infopool included a number of people,
most especially Anthony Davies, Emma Hedditch, and Howard Slater.
109 Infopool, Operation Re-appropriation: Infopool @ Tate Modern, 9.2.2001,
http://infopool.antipool.org/tate.htm.
110 Ibid.
111 Ibid.
112 Jakob Jakobsen, interview with the author, July 16, 2007.
113 Arvatov, cited in Kiaer, Imagine No Possessions, 68.
114 Infopool, Operation Re-appropriation.
115 Derrida, Paper Machine, 42.
116 Joad Raymond, Pamphlets and Pamphleteering in Early Modern Britain
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003).
117 Ibid., 38, 39.
118 Ibid., 10.
119 Fabian Tompsett, interview with the author, September 8, 2013.

120 Drucker, Century of Artists Books, 197.
121 Jakobsen, interview.
122 Jakob Jakobsen, A New Table, Which Might Not Be Understood as Clean
in Modern Terms, http://infopool.antipool.org/table.htm. This is one
of two or three moments in Anti-Book that indicate possible contribu-
tions to an environmental politics of media. The ravaging effects of the
energy-guzzling server farms, upgrade imperatives, precious metal mines,
electronic waste, and so forth, that accompany the not-so-immaterial
flow of digital information make a socioenvironmental politics of media
materialities all too urgent. See Richard Maxwell and Toby Miller, Green-
ing the Media (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).
124 Adorno, Minima Moralia, 50. The words in the first quotation are by Joel
Burges, from his Adornos Mimeograph: The Uses of Obsolescence in
Minima Moralia, New German Critique 40, no. 1 (2013): 72.
125 Adorno, Minima Moralia, 51.
126 It is worth underscoring how different Adornos appreciation of the
outmoded is to a fixation on the past: The quest for an age past not only
fails to indicate the way home but forfeits all consistency; the arbitrary
conservation of the obsolete compromises what it wants to conserve, and
with a bad conscience it obdurately opposes whatever is new. Adorno,
Philosophy of New Music, cited in Burges, Adornos Mimeograph, 68.
127 See Burges, ibid. James Schmidt, Language, Mythology, and Enlighten-
ment: Historical Notes on Horkheimer and Adornos Dialectic of Enlight-
enment, Social Research 65, no. 4 (1998): 80738.
128 Schmidt, Language, Mythology, and Enlightenment, 811.
129 Ibid.
130 Cited in Raymond, Pamphlets and Pamphleteering, 5.
131 See http://www.56a.org.uk/archive.html.
132 Chris, interview with the author, July 12, 2007.
133 Ibid.
134 Ibid.
135 Ibid.
136 Adorno, Bibliographic Musings, 24.
137 Ibid., 29.
138 Ibid.
139 Chris, interview.
140 Leslie, Telescoping the Microscopic Object, 68.
141 Ibid.
142 Gilles Deleuze and Flix Guattari, What Is Philosophy?, trans. Graham
Burchell and Hugh Tomlinson (London: Verso, 1994), 16768, 17677.
143 Hollier, Use-Value of the Impossible, 23.
144 Ibid.
145 Andrew Feenberg and Jim Freedman, eds., When Poetry Ruled the Streets: The
French May Events of 1968 (New York: State University of New York, 2001).
146 Atelier Populaire, Posters from the Revolution: Paris, May 1968 (London:
Dobson Books, 1969), emphasis added.
147 This quotation from Judge Achille Galluccis 1979 warrant is cited in the
introduction to Antonio Negri, Books for Burning: Between Civil War and
Democracy in 1970s Italy, ed. Timothy S. Murphy, trans. Arianna Bove
et al. (New York: Verso, 2005), xiii.
148 Raymond, Pamphlets and Pamphleteering, 7.
149 For an introduction to the history and politics of U.K. cooperative print
shops, see Jess Baines, Free Radicals, Afterall, http://www.afterall.org
/online/radical.printmaking/#.VbCwzYudLzI.
150 Ibid.
151 r. Im. Jnz, Tajrubyt-i Kumtahh-yi Krgar dar Inqilb-i Rsyah,
trans. Kvah (London: Unpopular Books, 1979). Jean Barrot [Gilles Dauv],
What Is Communism (London: Unpopular Books, 1983).
152 Fabian Tompsett, interview with the author, June 5, 2007.
153 Karl Marx to Wilhelm Blos, November 10, 1877, cited in Jacques Camatte
and Gianni Collu, About the Organisation, in Jacques Camatte, Capital
and Community: The Results of the Immediate Process of Production and the
Economic Work of Marx, trans. David Brown (London: Unpopular Books,
1988), https://www.marxists.org/archive/camatte/capcom/index.htm.
154 Unpopular Books, preface to What Is Situationism: Critique of the Situ-
ationist International, by Jean Barrot (London: Unpopular Books, 1987), 2.
155 Jrgen Nash, cited in Mikkel Bolt Rasmussen and Jakob Jakobsen, eds.,
Expect Anything Fear Nothing: The Situationist Movement in Scandinavia
and Elsewhere (Copenhagen: Nebula, 2011), 223.
156 The text is taken from a photograph of a Popular Book Centre.
157 Asger Jorn, cited in Simon Crook, Moving Mountains: Shamanic Rock
Art and the International of Experimental Artists, Transgressions: A Jour-
nal of Urban Exploration 4 (1998): 42. This split in the Situationist Inter-
national, pertaining among other things to dispute concerning the revolu-
tionary role of art, is addressed in the first book published by Unpopular
Books. See Stewart Home, The Assault on Culture: Utopian Currents from
Lettrisme to Class War (London: Aporia Press/Unpopular Books, 1988).
158 kArt Boo, unattributed, unpublished, and undated four-page typed
manuscript by Fabian Tompsett, [1994].
159 Ibid., 2.
160 Ibid., 1.
161 Ibid.
162 Ibid. The title of kArt Boo seeks to foreground this, and Tompsett men-
tions, as an example, uneven exposure of text during platemaking and
the insertion of ordinary typing into otherwise beautifully typeset pages,
though my personal favorite is the typographic destabilization of the Poplar
locale of Unpopular Books in the colophon to Daniel Lux, The Camden
Parasites (London: Unpoplar Books, 1999).
163 Tompsett, interview, June 5, 2007.
164 I make this point hesitantly, because Tompsett has shown little sympathy
for Marxist critiques that are weighted too heavily on the causality of the
abstract, critiques that sweep the real worldi.e. the sensuous world
which we move around ininto the dustbin of history, so that we are
met by simple abstract forces. It is only through concrete mediation
that the abstract exists, and it is in such mediation where politics lies,
not in a metaphysical struggle between abstract categories. F.T. [Fabian
Tompsett], Hegel on Acid: Response to Marxists and the So-Called
Problem of Imperialism, [1988], http://libcom.org/library/hegel-on
-acid-a-response-to-marxists-and-the-so-called-problem-of-imperialism.
165 kArt Boo.
166 Asger Jorn, Open Creation and Its Enemies, trans. Fabian Tompsett (Lon-
don: Unpopular Books, 1994), 47.
167 Raymond, Pamphlets and Pamphleteering.
168 McLuhan, Gutenberg Galaxy, 125.
169 Tompsett, interview, June 5, 2007. One cover places the pamphlet in
relation to Jorns wayfaring habits, with an image of a lithograph of Jorn
astride a BSA motorcycle in front of the Eiffel Tower; the other indicates
Jorns interests in material form that I am pursuing here, with its image of
the somewhat talismanic memorial stone he fabricated for his syndicalist
friend Christian Christensen.
170 Tompsett, interview, June 5, 2007.
171 Walter Benjamin, Charles Baudelaire: A Lyric Poet in the Era of High Capi-
talism, trans. Harry Zohn (London: Verso, 1983), 55.
172 Stphane Mallarm, cited in Maurice Blanchot, The Book to Come,
trans. Charlotte Mandell (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press,
2002), 229.
173 Jorn, Open Creation, 32.
3. Root, Fascicle, Rhizome
1 Elizabeth L. Eisenstein, The Printing Press as Agent of Change (Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 1980). Darnton, Forbidden Best-Sellers. Luc-
ien Febvre and Henri-Jean Martin, The Coming of the Book: The Impact of
Printing 14501800, trans. David Gerard (New York: Verso Books, 1997).
2 Jacques Derrida, Of Grammatology, trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak
(London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1974), 18.
3 John Mowitt, Text: The Geneaology of an Antidisciplinary Object (Durham,
N.C.: Duke University Press, 1992), 101.
4 For a materialist critique of Derridas earlier formulations of the book, as
well as one of the few engagements with Deleuze and Guattaris typology
of the book, see Daniel Selcers fascinating work Philosophy and the Book
(London: Continuum, 2010), 610, 194202.
5 Maurice Blanchot, The Absence of the Book, in The Infinite Conversa-
tion, trans. Susan Hanson (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press,
1993), 424.
6 We are writing this book as a rhizome. It is composed of plateaus....To
attain the multiple, one must have a method that effectively constructs
it. Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, 22.
7 At one point, they assess Artauds spell for Hitler as a BwO intensity
map of thresholds and waves, but only with regard to its textual content.
Ibid., 164.
8 Gilles Deleuze and Flix Guattari, Kafka: Towards a Minor Literature,
trans. Dana Polan (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1986), 96.
9 Flix Guattari, The Anti-Oedipus Papers, ed. Stphane Nadaud, trans.
Klina Gotman (Los Angeles, Calif.: Semiotext(e), 2006), 400.
10 Ibid., 34344, 352, 371.
11 Deleuze, Negotiations, 144. Foucault, in Gilles Deleuze and Flix Guattari,
Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia Volume 1, trans. Robert Hurley,
Mark Seem, and Helen R. Lane (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota
Press, 1983), xiii.
12 Selcer, Philosophy and the Book, 199.
13 Ernst Robert Curtius, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, trans.
Willard R. Trask (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1953), 310.
14 Francis Bacon, The Advancement of Learning (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1885).
15 Walter Mignolo, From Signs and Their Transmission: The Question of the
Book in the New World, in A Book of the Book, ed. Jerome Rothenberg and
Steven Clay (New York: Granary Books, 2000), 351.
16 Jacques Verger, cited in Alain Boureau, Franciscan Piety and Voracity:

Uses and Strategems in the Hagiographic Pamphlet, in The Culture of
Print: Power and the Uses of Print in Early Modern Europe, ed. Roger Chartier,
trans. Lydia G. Cochrane (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1989), 17.
17 James Kearney, The Incarnate Text: Imagining the Book in Reformation
England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009), 17.
18 Martin Luther, cited in ibid., 24.
19 Kearney, Incarnate Text, 24.
20 Ibid., 38.
21 Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, 127.
22 Ibid., 123.
23 Ibid., 124.
24 Ibid., 131.
25 For further discussion of the semiopolitics of monomania, see Nicholas
Thoburn, Weatherman, the Militant Diagram, and the Problem of Politi-
cal Passion, New Formations 68 (2010): 12542.
27 Ibid., 127.
28 Kearney, Incarnate Text, 10.
29 See ibid., 1011.
30 Ibid., 11.
31 Pierre Bersuire, Dictionarium seu reportorium morale, [1355], cited in ibid.,
14.
32 John Fisher, Sermon...preached vpon a good Friday [153134], cited
in Kearney, Incarnate Text, 5.
33 Thomas Mntzer, cited in ibid., 23.
35 Mallarm, The Book: A Spiritual Instrument, 690.
36 For Marx and Engels, Max Stirners The Ego and Its Own functions as
the perfect book, the Holy Book. It posits the history of the kingdom
of the unique [that] follows a wise plan fixed from eternity, a plan based
on the egoists delirious fantasy, in Stirners words, of the world as it
is for me. Marx and Engels, Collected Works, 5:117, 126.
37 Daniel Leese, A Single Spark: Origins and Spread of the Little Red Book,
in Maos Little Red Book: A Global History, ed. Alexander C. Cook (Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 23. Roderick MacFarquhar and
Michael Schoenhals, Maos Last Revolution (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press, 2006), 240. The Bible is estimated at 56 billion copies
published and the Quran at 800 million. Carl Wilkinson, The Observer
Book of Books (Reading, U.K.: Observer Books, 2008), 29.
38 Mao himself remarked on the power of Quotations, writing in a 1966 letter

to his wife, Jiang Qing, I have never believed...that those little books of
mine could have such fantastic magic, yet he [Lin Biao] blew them up, and
the whole country followed. Mao, cited in Ross Terrill, Mao: A Biography
(Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1999), 370. Many thanks to
Chung Yan Priscilla Kam for translating some of these and other posters
from the Cultural Revolution.
39 Slavoj iek, Mao Tse-Tung, the Marxist Lord of Misrule, in Mao Tse-
Tung, Slavoj iek Presents Mao on Practice and Contradiction (London:
Verso Books, 2007), 10.
40 Mao Tse-tung, Analysis of the Classes in Chinese Society (1926), in
Selected Works of Mao Tse-tung (Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1965),
1:22; Mao Tse-Tung, Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-tung (Peking:
Foreign Languages Press, 1966), 214.
41 Mao Zedong, Talk on Questions of Philosophy (1964), cited in iek,
Mao Tse-tung, the Marxist Lord of Misrule, 9.
42 Robert Jay Lifton, Revolutionary Immortality: Mao Tse-tung and the Chinese
Cultural Revolution (Harmondsworth, U.K.: Penguin, 1970), 49.
43 Mao, Quotations, 260.
44 Mao in 1958, cited in Stuart Schram, The Thought of Mao Tse-tung (New
York: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 128.
45 Cited in Lifton, Revolutionary Immortality, 72.
47 Lifton, Revolutionary Immortality, 67.
49 Ibid., 202.
50 Cited in Stuart Schram, Mao Tse-Tung (Harmondsworth, U.K.: Penguin,
1966), 295.
51 Lin Biao, cited in Alexander C. Cook, Introduction: The Spiritual
Atom Bomb and Its Global Fallout, in Cook, Maos Little Red Book, 8.
52 Estimates of the death toll in eleven leading texts are tabulated in the
Wikipedia entry for the Great Leap Forward, between 23 and 46 million
people. The slogan quoted here is taken from Henry Yuhuai He, Diction-
ary of the Political Thought of the Peoples Republic of China (New York: East
Gate Books, 2001), 413. For recent documentary analysis of the Great
Leap Forward, see Yang Jisheng, Tombstone: The Untold Story of Maos
Great Famine, trans. Stacy Mosher and Guo Jian (London: Allen Lane,
2012).
53 Mao, cited Jung Chang and Jon Halliday, Mao: The Unknown Story (Lon-
don: Jonathan Cape, 2007), 505.
54 Mao, Slavoj iek Presents Mao on Practice and Contradiction, 44. The
source of the second quotation is not given, cited in Lifton, Revolutionary
Immortality, 72. This is an opportunity to note that the subjective purity
of Mao Zedong Thought is not the same thing as a commitment to prin-
ciples; Mao, ever the politician, was perfectly capable of sacrificing his
principles in the pursuit and maintenance of power, such that the corpus
of his Thought in the Selected Works required careful editing and revision,
and, unlike the other socialist demagogues, no complete works was pub-
lished. Simon Leys, Aspects of Mao Zedong, in The Hall of Uselessness:
Collected Essays, 38388 (New York: New York Review of Books, 2013).
55 For the more specific features of this metaphoric identification of Maos
Thought with nuclear fission, notably with regard to the energy derived
from splitting in Maos dialectical schema of one divides into two, see
Cook, Introduction: The Spiritual Atom Bomb and Its Global Fallout.
56 Cited in Xing Lu, Rhetoric of the Chinese Cultural Revolution (Columbia:
University of South Carolina Press, 2004), 65.
57 This structure of thematic selections arose not, as one might have assumed,
from an effort to condense a larger book, at least not directly so, but from
a card file system. The Tianjin Daily had found this means of thematically
arranging famous passages from Maos Selected Works to be an effective
solution to the difficult task of sourcing suitable quotations of Maos
Thought to accompany each days news stories. It is a neat reminder of
the contingent and overdetermined nature of sociotechnical invention, as
is the fact that the books red plastic covers were not as inevitable a choice
as they now appear, for two trial bindings of Quotations were made in light
and dark blue, and, while the volumes used by PLA brigade teams were
covered in red vinyl, in the first edition, high-ranking individual officers
received copies in printed paper wrappers. The first trial editions were
also of a slightly larger format; it was the need to have them fit neatly into
the pockets of military uniforms that caused their unusually diminutive,
and now so iconic, format. See Daniel Leese, Mao Cult: Rhetoric and
Ritual in the Cultural Revolution (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2011), 10910, 112. Oliver Lei Han, Sources and Early Printing History
of Chairman Maos Quotations, 2004, 4, http://www.bibsocamer.org
/BibSite/Han/index.html.
58 Leese, A Single Spark, 31. Andrew F. Jones, Quotation Songs, in Cook,
Maos Little Red Book, 46.
59 Cited in Jiaqi Yan and Gao Gao, Turbulent Decade: A History of the Cultural
Revolution, trans. Daniel W.Y. Kwok (Honolulu: University of Hawaii
Press, 1996), 17980.

61 In Thomas W. Robinson, ed., The Cultural Revolution in China (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2001), 509.
62 Leese, A Single Spark, 2729.
63 Jones, Quotation Songs, 46.
64 Rae Yang, cited in Melissa Schrift, Biography of a Chairman Mao Badge
(New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 2001), 7980.
65 Terrill, Mao, 318. For photographs of Quotations-waving crowds in numerous
settings, including Maos sunrise audiences with the Red Guards, see Jiang
Jiehong, Red: Chinas Cultural Revolution (London: Jonathan Cape, 2010).
66 The power of the word is accentuated in Chinese culture by the ideographic
form of Chinese characters and the expressive art of calligraphy. The text
itself reads, Study Chairman Maos writings, follow his teachings and act
according to his instructions. On the rise and fall of Lin Biao, see Simon
Leys, The Burning Forest: Essays on Chinese Culture and Politics (London:
Paladin Books, 1988), 13848.
67 Lu, Rhetoric of the Chinese Cultural Revolution, 13233.
68 Ibid., 13334.
69 Cited in MacFarquhar and Schoenhals, Maos Last Revolution, 104, 126.
70 Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party, Decision Concern-
ing the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution, August 8, 1966, http://
www.rrojasdatabank.org/16points.htm.
72 Lifton, Revolutionary Immortality, 6062.
73 Simon Leys, The Chairmans New Clothes: Mao and the Cultural Revolu-
tion (London: Allison and Busby, 1977). See also the incisive 1967 text
by the SI, which was informed by the Situationist Ren Vinets direct
reports from China, Situationist International, The Explosion Point of
Ideology in China, in Knabb, Situationist International Anthology, 18594.
The publication of Leyss expos of the Cultural Revolution, based on
his close analysis of events while living in Hong Kong, was encouraged
and arranged by Vinet, where it appeared in the latters Bibliothque
asiatique series at Champ Libre. See Laurent Six, China: How Pierre
Ryckmans Became Simon Leys, http://www.notbored.org/leys.pdf.
74 Leys, Chairmans New Clothes, 13.
75 Simon Leys, Chinese Shadows (Harmondsworth, U.K.: Penguin, 1978),
2078.
76 Ibid., 191.
77 Chinois, encore un effort pour tre rvolutionnaires (a.k.a. Peking Duck Soup),
dir. Ren Vinet (1977).
78 Lowell Dittmer, The Structural Evolution of Criticism and Self-

Criticism, The China Quarterly 56 (1973): 724.
79 Leese, Mao Cult, 121.
82 The Words of the Chairman, dir. Harun Farocki, http://www.harunfarocki
.de/films/1960s/1967/the-words-of-the-chairman.html.
83 Terrill, Mao, 318.
85 Ibid., 11.
86 Ibid., 4.
88 Ibid., 5.
89 Ibid., 21.
91 Ibid., 9.
92 Ibid., 6.
93 Ibid. The choice of targets here is striking, for these three had great
significance for Deleuze and Guattari. Guattari apparently had a lifelong
obsession with Joyce, albeit that Becketts sobriety with language has the
upper hand in Deleuze and Guattaris work, against Joyces overloading of
text with illusion and metaphor. Borroughss thought and method against
control is a source of some considerable importance to their critique of
control society and communication. And the impact of Nietzsche on
Deleuze would of course be hard to exaggerate.
94 Ibid., 22.
95 Ibid.
96 Ibid., 2223.
97 Ibid., 2324.
98 Ibid., 520.
99 Absolutment Ncessaire: The Politics of the Book: An Email Conver-
sation between Jelle de La Casinire and Andrew Bonacina, http://
dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/32871722/Exhibitions/2011/Casiniere/Ca
siniere%20Interview.pdf. See http://www.montfaucon.eu/ for images of a
complete edition. I am grateful to Jolle de La Casinire for sharing with
me details of this book.
101 The most comprehensive account of the movement, one that should not be
confused with Italian Futurism, is Vladimir Markov, Russian Futurism: A
History (London: University of California Press, 1969). Images of complete
editions of a number of Russian Futurist books can be viewed at http://

www.getty.edu/research/. The first zaum poem, Aleksei Kruchenykhs
1920 Kr dei macelli, can be heard on YouTube, https://www.youtube
.com/watch?v=pu-jrJVIcnk.
102 Deleuze and Guattari, What Is Philosophy?, 167.
103 Kruchenykh, cited in Markov, Russian Futurism, 347. Aleksei Kruchenykh,
Declaration of Transrational Language, in Russian Futurism through Its
Manifestoes, 19121928, ed. Anna Lawton, trans. Anna Lawton and Herbert
Eagle (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1988), 18283.
105 Aleksei Remizov, cited in Nina Gurianova, A Game in Hell, Hard Work
in Heaven: Deconstructing the Cannon in Russian Futurist Books, in
The Russian Avant-Garde Book 19101934, ed. Margit Rowell and Deborah
Wye (New York: MoMA, 2002), 26.
106 Cited in Gerald Janecek, Kruchenykh contra Gutenberg, in Rowell and
Wye, Russian Avant-Garde Book, 41.
108 Ibid., 386.
109 Johanna Drucker, Pixel Dust: Illusions of Innovation in Scholarly Publish-
ing, Los Angeles Review of Books, January 16, 2004, https://lareviewofbooks
.org/essay/pixel-dust-illusions-innovation-scholarly-publishing/#_edn
ref2. Peter Stallybrass, Books and Scrolls: Navigating the Bible, in
Books and Readers in Early Modern England, ed. Jenny Anderson, 4279
(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2002).
110 Jared Ash, Primitivism in Russian Futurist Book Design 191014, in
Rowell and Wye, Russian Avant-Garde Book.
112 Gurianova,A Game in Hell. Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, 402.
113 Gerald Janecek, The Look of Russian Literature: Avant-Garde Visual Experi-
ments, 19001930 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984), 117.
114 Aleksei Kruchenykh, New Ways of the Word, in Lawton, Russian Futur-
ism through Its Manifestoes, 76.
116 Ibid., 498.
117 Ibid., 494.
118 Ash, Primitivism in Russian Futurist Book Design, 37.
119 Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, 398, 386.
120 The first quotation here is Gurianovas characterization of the Futurist
understanding of the book; the second she takes from advertisements for
Futurist editions. Gurianova, A Game in Hell, 25, 27.
121 Ibid.
122 Janecek, Look of Russian Literature, 112.
123 Kruchenykh, cited in Markov, Russian Futurism, 130.
124 Kruchenykh, New Ways of the Word, 75.
125 Janecek, Kruchenykh contra Gutenberg.
126 Janecek, Look of Russian Literature, 109.
127 Terentyev, in Lawton, Russian Futurism through Its Manifestoes, 179.
129 Gris-gris, the noun Artaud uses for these works, signifies charm, fetish,
or amulet.
130 Six of Artauds spells are reproduced in Margit Rowell, ed., Antonin
Artaud: Works on Paper (New York: MoMA, 1996). As an example of
the text, the spell to Roger Blin (Plates 5 and 6) reads in translation,
All those who banded together to prevent me from taking HEROIN, all
those who touched Anne Manson because of that Sunday 21 May 1939,
Ill have them pierced alive (recto) in a PARIS square and Ill have their
marrows perforated and burned. I am in an Insane Asylum but this dream
of a madman will become true and will be implemented by ME. Antonin
Artaud (149).
131 Antonin Artaud, Letter to Henri Parisot, September 22 1945, cited
in Gilles Deleuze, The Logic of Sense, ed. Constantin V. Boundas, trans.
Mark Lester and Charles Stivale (New York: Columbia University Press,
1990), 84.
132 Deleuze, Logic of Sense, 87. Antonin Artaud, From The Nerve Meter
(1925), in Antonin Artaud: Selected Writings, ed. Susan Sontag, trans.
Helen Weaver (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 87.
133 Deleuze, Logic of Sense, 8687.
134 Artaud, cited in ibid., 84.
135 Ibid., 88.
136 Antonin Artaud, cited in Stephen Barber, Antonin Artaud: Terminal Curses
(London: Solar Books, 2008), 67.
137 Ibid., 54.
138 Antonin Artaud, cited in Christopher Ho, Antonin Artaud: From Centre
to Periphery, Periphery to Centre, Performing Arts Journal 19, no. 2 (1997):
19. Artaud, in Rowell, Antonin Artaud, 42.
139 Antonin Artaud, cited in Paule Thvenin, The Search for a Lost World,
in Jacques Derrida and Paule Thvenin, The Secret Art of Antonin Artaud,
trans. Mary Ann Caws (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1998), 25.
140 Agns de la Beaumelle, Introduction, trans. Jeanine Herman, in Rowell,
Antonin Artaud, 40.
141 Jean Dequeker, cited in Margit Rowell, Images of Cruelty: The Drawings
of Antonin Artaud, in Rowell, Antonin Artaud, 13.
142 Deleuze, Logic of Sense, 87.
143 Beaumelle, Introduction, 39.
144 Thvenin, Search for a Lost World, 15, 17.
145 Beaumelle, Introduction, 40.
146 Antonin Artaud, 50 Dessins pour assassiner la magie, trans. Richard
Sieburth, in Rowell, Antonin Artaud, 33.
147 Antonin Artaud, Les figures sur la page inerte..., trans. Richard Sie-
burth, in ibid., 42.
148 Guy Debord, Attestations, trans. Reuben Keehan, http://www.cddc
.vt.edu/sionline/postsi/attestations.html.
149 Karen Kurczynski, The Art and Politics of Asger Jorn: The Avant-Garde
Wont Give Up (Burlington, Vt.: Ashgate, 2014), 16566.
150 For the multitude of sources, see Ian Thompsons accompanying notes
to his facsimile translation of Mmoires, http://isinenglish.com/2015/03
/20/memoires-footnotes-and-sources-of-detournements-edited-working
-notes/.
151 The remarkable experiment of Fin de Copenhague includes covers compris-
ing the disposable papier-mch flong that molded stereographic plates
for cylinder and rotary printing. A paradoxical conjunction of the unique
and the mass produced, the flong used in this case, necessarily different
for each copy of the book, was taken from conservative Danish dailies.
See Thomas Hvid Kromann, Montages Wrapped in Flong: A Material-
Archaeological Investigation of Asger Jorn and Guy Debords Fin de Copen-
hague, Situationniste Blog, January 2016, https://situationnisteblog.files
.wordpress.com/2016/01/kromann_montages_english-summary-1.pdf.
152 Asger Jorn, Dear Friends, letter to Permild and Rosengreen, February 15,
1958, October 141 (2012): 7072. See Christian Nolle, Books of Warfare:
The Collaboration between Guy Debord and Asger Jorn from 19571959,
Vector, http://virose.pt/vector/b_13/nolle.html. Jorn and Permild and
Rosengreen were to have a long-standing publishing relation, and the
publishers handsome logo, still in use today, was designed by Jorn.
153 See especially Karen Kurczynskis book on Jorn, which garners much
insight about Mmoires from a method that resists mapping too much of it
back to the literal history of Debords groups and that accords full weight
to the role of Jorns supporting structures. Kurczynski, Art and Politics
of Asger Jorn.
154 Francis Stracey, Surviving History: A Situationist Archive, Art History
26, no. 1 (2003): 5677.
155 Mustapha Khayati, Captive Words: Preface to a Situationist Dictionary,

in Knabb, Situationist International Anthology, 171. It is significant for my
broader argument about communist forms of writing and publishing that
the SI also level the critique of the informationist mode of language
at the orthodox Left. In the same text, Khayati discusses the Bolshevik
order of the more or less magical, impersonal expressions, inflexible
and ritual formulas that work in the image of the state to preserve its
purity and substance in the face of obviously contradictory facts.
Ibid., 173.
156 Situationist International, All the Kings Men, in Knabb, Situationist
International Anthology, 114.
158 Gilles Deleuze, Two Regimes of Madness, ed. David Lapoujade, trans.
Ames Hodges and Mike Taormina (New York: Semiotext(e), 2006), 322.
Deleuze and Guattari, What Is Philosophy?, 99.
159 Guy Debord, cited in Patrick Greaney, Quotational Practices: Repeating the
Future in Contemporary Art (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press,
2014), 33.
160 Anselm Jappe, Guy Debord, trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1999), 96 .
161 Jorn, cited in Situationist International, Dtournement as Negation and
Prelude, in Knabb, Situationist International Anthology, 55.
162 Khayati, Captive Words, 175.
163 Situationist International, Dtournement as Negation and Prelude, 55.
164 Guy Debord and Gil J. Wolman, A Users Guide to Dtournement, in
Knabb, Situationist International Anthology, 16.
165 Guy Debord, Society of the Spectacle (Detroit, Mich.: Black and Red, 1983),
160.
166 Ibid., 204. Guy Debord and Gil J. Wolman, A Users Guide to Dtour-
nement, in Knabb, Situationist International Anthology, 11.
167 Tom McDonough, The Beautiful Language of My Century: Reinventing
the Language of Contestation in Postwar France, 19451968 (Cambridge,
Mass.: MIT Press, 2007), 8.
168 Even the degraded photographs of Debords comrades and drinking
companions are purloined from a photo-novel, Ed van der Elskens Love
on the Left Bank, which draws much from the scene at the Lettrist haunt
Chez Moineau.
169 The translation is from Ian Thompsons expertly executed facsimile
translation of Mmoires, available at https://www.academia.edu/11522988
/Memoires_-_Guy_Debord_and_Asger_ Jorn_English_Facsimile_.
170 Situationist International, Dtournement as Negation and Prelude, 56.

171 Kurczynski, Art and Politics of Asger Jorn, 170.
172 Jorn, Open Creation and Its Enemies, 31.
173 Jorn, Dear Friends, 71.
174 For discussion of Jorns homage and critique of Pollock, see Kurczynski,
Art and Politics of Asger Jorn, 14954.
175 Jorn, Dear Friends, 71. It is clear that Jorn considered these to be con-
siderable innovations, declaring in this letter, I do not know if you realize
how close we are coming to an entirely new understanding of the book.
176 David Banash, Activist Desire, Cultural Criticism, and the Situationist
International, Reconstruction: Studies in Contemporary Culture 1, no. 2
(2002), http://reconstruction.eserver.org/021/Activist.htm.
177 Regarding which, the SI defines the drive thus: A mode of experimental
behavior linked to the conditions of urban society: a technique of tran-
sient passage through varied ambiances. Also used to designate a specific
period of continuous driving. Situationist International, Definitions,
in Knabb, Situationist International Anthology, 45.
178 This is not to say that the SI was unresponsive to the gender dimensions
of French consumer culture at this time. For discussion of which, see Jen
Kennedy, Charming Monsters: The Spectacle of Femininity in Postwar
France, Grey Room 39 (2012): 5679.
179 Greaney, Quotational Practices, 3537, quoting in translation a line from
Debord, Mmoires.
180 Striphas, Late Age of Print.
181 McLuhan suggests that the vector of influence might also go in the
opposite direction, whereby the printed books nature as a manufac-
tured mass commodityan apparently autonomous entity, tending to-
ward homogeneity across each copyconferred a subliminal faith
in the validity of the printed Bible as an independent source, bypass-
ing the oral mediation and authority of the Church and of scholarship,
as if print, uniform and repeatable commodity that it was, had the
power of creating a new hypnotic superstition of the book as indepen-
dent of and uncontaminated by human agency. McLuhan, Gutenberg
Galaxy, 144.
182 Travis, Ideas and Commodities.
183 Anderson, Imagined Communities. Febvre and Martin, Coming of the Book.
Striphas, Late Age of Print.
184 Kurczynski, Art and Politics of Asger Jorn, 162.
185 Jrgen Nash, from the Danish press release of Mmoires, trans. Jakob Jakob-
sen, cited in Jakob Jakobsen, The Artistic Revolution: On the Situationists,
Gangsters and Falsifiers from Drakabygget, in Rasmussen and Jakobsen,

Expect Everything Fear Nothing, 223.
186 Debord, Attestations. The commercial republication of Mmoires raises
questions I am unable to address here, but I take it as given that the reprints
are very different entities to the 1959 work discussed in this chapter.
187 Guy Debord, Potlatch (195457), trans. NOT BORED!, http://www
.notbored.org/potlatch.html.
188 Grail Marcus, Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century
(London: Picador, 1997), 391.
189 Guy Debord, The Role of Potlatch, Then and Now, from Potlatch 30
( July 15, 1959), cited in Jappe, Guy Debord, 148.
190 In a letter to the German Situationist Uwe Lausen, Debord proposes that
Lausen sell copies of Mmoires to fund the publication of Der Deutsche
Gedanke, noting that its full price...is very high. Guy Debord, Letter
to Uwe Lausen, 9 September 1962, trans. NOT BORED!, http://www
.notbored.org/debord-9September1962.html. On the contradictions in-
volved in financing the SI, see SI, Questionnaire, in Knabb, Situationist
International Anthology, 142, 37374. For discussion of the affective politics
of the gift, see McDonough, Beautiful Language of My Century, 14854.
191 Marcel Mauss, The Gift: The Form and Reason for Exchange in Archaic
Societies, trans. W.D. Halls (London: Routledge, 1990).
192 McKenzie Wark, The Secretary, in Guy Debord, Correspondence: The
Foundation of the Situationist International (June 1957August 1960), trans.
Stewart Kendall and John McHale (Los Angeles, Calif.: Semiotext(e),
2009).
193 See Georges Bataille, The Notion of Expenditure, in Visions of Excess:
Selected Writings, 19271939, ed. Allan Stoekl, trans. Allan Stoekl with
Carl R. Lovitt and Donald M. Leslie, 11629 (Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 1985).
194 Debord, Attestations.
195 Banash, Activist Desire.
196 Guy Debord, Letter to Thomas Levin, 1 September 1989, trans. NOT
BORED!, http://www.notbored.org/debord-1September1989.html.
197 Guy Debord, The Hamburg Theses of September 1961 (Note to Serve
in the History of the Situationist International), letter to Thomas Levin,
November 1989, trans. NOT BORED!, http://www.notbored.org/debord
-November1989.html.
198 For the developing political orientations and tensions of the SI at this time,
see the reports The Fourth SI Conference in London (held September
1960), http://www.cddc.vt.edu/sionline/si/goteborg.html, and The Fifth
SI Conference in Gteborg (held August 1961), http://www.bopsecrets

.org/SI/5.conf4.htm. For documents relating to the split and the subsequent
development of Scandinavian Situationist practice, see Mikkel Bolt Rasmus-
sen and Jakob Jakobsen, eds., Cosmonauts of the Future: Texts from the Situa-
tionist Movement in Scandinavia and Elsewhere (Copenhagen: Nebula, 2015).
199 Debord, Hamburg Theses.
200 Guy Debord, Letter to Raoul Vaneigem, February 15, 1962, trans. NOT
BORED!, http://www.notbored.org/debord-15February1962.html.
201 Ibid.
202 Jacques Camatte, in Camatte and Gianni Collu, On Organization, trans.
Edizioni International, in This World We Must Leave and Other Essays, ed.
Alex Trotter (New York: Autonomedia, 1995), 20.
203 Attila Kotnyi, The Next Step, from Der Deutsche Gedanke 1 (April 1963),
trans. Reuben Keehan, http://www.cddc.vt.edu/sionline/si/nextstep.html.
204 Anthony Hayes, Toward the Realisation of Philosophy: The Situationist
International between 1957 and 1960, http://thesinisterquarter.wordpress
.com/2014/01/06/toward-the-realisation-of-philosophy/.
205 Karl Marx, A Contribution to Hegels Philosophy of Right: Introduction,
in Early Writings, 250.
206 In a more specific sense, this marks a separation from the historical
workers movement and the milieu of revolutionary groups that were
nurturing its particular structures of antagonism and its conceptual field
beyond their sociohistorical pertinence. The reference to Marx signified
that one must no longer give the least importance to the conceptions of
any of the revolutionary groups that still existed as inheritors of the old
social emancipation movement that was destroyed in the first half of our
century. Debord, Hamburg Theses.
207 Ibid., 256.
208 Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, The Holy Family, or, Critique of Critical
Criticism, in Collected Works, 4:36.
209 Marx, A Contribution to Hegels Philosophy of Right, 256.
210 Howard Slater, Divided We Stand: An Outline of Scandinavian Situ-
ationism, Infopool, no. 4 (London: Infopool, 2001).
211 Key SI texts about the practice of art after the split are Ren Vinet, The
Situationists and the New Forms of Action against Politics and Art, 1967,
in Knabb, Situationist International Anthology, and Guy Debord, The
Situationists and the New Forms of Action in Politics or Art, 1963, in
Elisabeth Sussman, On the Passage of a Few People through a Rather Brief
Moment in Time: The Situationist International 19571972 (Cambridge,
Mass.: MIT Press, 1991).
212 Rumneys report was intended for the first issue of Internationale situ-
ationniste, its late arrival famously precipitating his expulsion from the
SI. The filoform tract is described in Guy Debord, To [Pinot] Gallizio,
January 13, 1958, in Debord, Correspondence, 74. For details of the Censor
scandal, see Gianfranco Sanguinetti, The Doge: A Recollection, http://
www.notbored.org/The-Doge.pdf.
213 For example, What kind of metallic cover can we obtain in Holland? That
is, continuing with the range of our covers, what can we find?/In France
the country is poor in this regardwe have just about exhausted everything
with gold and silver./Keeping in mind that it must have a thickness equal
to n 3, what colors can one find? (We would like copper red if possible.)
Guy Debord, To Constant [Nieuwenhuys], 26 January 1960, Debord,
Correspondence, 324. Regarding the SIs taste in page aesthetics, see the
amusing retort to left-wing critics of the journals slick paper and price,
those detractors of typography with their mimeographed image...of
the consciousness of a class in which they fervently seek their stereotype
Joe Worker. Vinet, The Situationists and the New Forms of Action
against Politics and Art, 213.
214 McKenzie Wark, No One Wants to Be Here: John Douglas Millar Inter-
views McKenzie Wark, 3:AM Magazine, http://www.3ammagazine.com
/3am/no-one-wants-to-be-here/. The anticopyright notice was brought
from the back of the journal to the front in issue 3, when it was also
worked up typographically to be a striking feature. The journal itself was
not free. Number 12 was priced at 3 French franks, approximately $3.50
in 2015 prices, which, for comparison with other kinds of printed matter
at the time, was less than one-fifth of the price of the first edition of The
Society of the Spectacle.
215 Ruth Baumeister, Asger Jorn in Images, Words, and Forms (Chicago: Uni-
versity of Chicago Press, 2015).
216 See Karen Kurczynski, Red Herrings: Eccentric Morphologies in the
Situationist Times, in Rasmussen and Jakobsen, Expect Nothing Fear
Everything.
217 Slater, Divided We Stand, 20.
218 Jacqueline de Jong, Critique of the Political Practice of Dtournement,
The Situationist Times 1 (May 1962).
219 Michle Bernstein, No Useless Indulgences, Internationale situation-
niste, no. 1 ( June 1958), trans. NOT BORED!, http://www.notbored
.org/no-useless-indulgences.html#_ednref8. I have included an image
of de Jongs text to convey an impression of its material and emotional
qualities, and thanks to Howard Slaters transcription, the content can
now be read with ease. See Jacqueline de Jong, Critique of the Political
Practice of Dtournement, in Rasmussen and Jakobsen, Cosmonauts of
the Future, 7784.
220 It is well known that the SI contained other organizational tendencies,
which included a strict adherence to internal group discipline as well as
a certain aestheticization of organization and the practice of exclusion.
For a compelling analysis of the organizational question in the SI and the
Scandinavian Situationist groups, see Slater, Divided We Stand.
221 Nancy, Inoperative Community, 31. The trope of literary communism
appears in a number of places in the book and gives chapter 3 its title.
222 Debord, Society of the Spectacle, 220. For critique of the place of workers
councils in the SIs theory, see Jean Barrot, What Is Situationism (London:
Unpopular Books, 1987).
224 Marx, A Contribution to Hegels Philosophy of Right, 253.
4. What Matter Whos Speaking?
1 I take this quotation from the translation of a 1973 Invariance text by Jacques
Camatte, Statements and Citations, in This World We Must Leave and
Other Essays, ed. Alex Trotter, 17280 (New York: Autonomedia, 1995).
Camatte explains that its original source is not Bordigas anonymously
authored series, Sul Filo del Tempo (The thread of time), in the journal
Battaglia Comunista (Communist struggle), but a journal with the same
title that published a single issue in May 1953.
2 For critical analysis of anonymous and pseudonymous collective practice
from feudal to contemporary scenes, see Marco Deseriis, Improper
Names: Collective Pseudonyms and Multiple-Use Names as Minor Pro-
cesses of Subjectivation, Subjectivity 5 (2012): 14060.
3 Maria Chehonadskih, What Is Pussy Riots Idea, Radical Philosophy 176
(2012): 17. Harry Halpin, The Philosophy of Autonomous: Ontological
Politics without Identity, Radical Philosophy 176 (2012): 1928.
4 Michel Foucault, What Is an Author?, in Aesthetics, Method, and Epis-
temology, ed. James D. Faubion, trans. Robert Hurley et al. (New York:
New Press, 1998), 221.
5 Jeffrey T. Nealon, Foucault beyond Foucault: Power and Its Intensifications
since 1984 (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2008).
6 Foucault, What Is an Author?, 205.
7 Ibid., 21112.
8 Cited in Mark Rose, Authors and Owners: The Invention of Copyright (Cam-
bridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1993), 22.
9 Ibid., 15.
11 By a Rheinlander [Karl Marx], Comments on the Latest Prussian Cen-
sorship Instruction, in Marx and Engels, Collected Works, 1:112.
12 By a Rheinlander [Karl Marx], Debates on Freedom of the Press and
Publication of the Proceedings of the Assembly of the Estates, supple-
ment to Rheinische Zeitung, no. 139 (May 19, 1842), in Marx and Engels,
Collected Works, 1:174. My discussion here is informed by the dialogue
between Esther Leslie and Ben Watson, Write to Live; Live to Write:
Trading Ideas in Academia and Journalism, http://www.militantesthetix
.co.uk/critlit/livewrite.htm.
13 [Marx], Debates on Freedom, 175.
14 John Locke, Two Treatises of Government, cited in Rose, Authors and Owners,
5. Roger Chartier writes that from the mid-eighteenth century, a mon-
etary appreciation of literary compositions, remunerated as labour and
subject to the laws of the market, was founded on an ideology of creative
and disinterested genius that guaranteed the originality of the work.
Chartier, The Order of Books: Readers, Authors, and Libraries in Europe
between the 14th and 18th Centuries, trans. Lydia G. Cochrane (Stanford,
Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1992), 38.
15 Karl Marx, The Class Struggles in France: 18481850, in Surveys from
Exile, ed. David Fernbach (Harmondsworth, U.K.: Penguin 1973), 134.
This feeling for the value of anonymity in journalism features in the earlier
essays too. For instance, regarding efforts to deny freedom of the press to
anonymous and pseudonymous writers, Marx jibes, When Adam gave
names to all the animals in paradise, he forgot to give names to the Ger-
man newspaper correspondents, and they will remain nameless in saecula
saeculorum [for ever and ever]. [Marx], Debates on Freedom, 178.
16 Marx, Class Struggles in France, 134.
17 Ibid., 178, 137.
18 Ibid., 135. The English translation here is actually sinister anonymity,
which diminishes the psychological dimension of unheimlich.
19 Margaret A. Rose, The Holy Cloak of Criticism: Structuralism and
Marxs Eighteenth Brumaire, Thesis Eleven 2 (1981): 83.
20 Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party (Beijing:
Foreign Languages Press, 1973), 31.
22 Ibid., 207.
23 Ibid.
24 Michel Foucault, The Masked Philosopher, trans. Alan Sheridan, in
Ethics: Subjectivity and Truth, ed. Paul Rabinow (Harmondsworth, U.K.:
Penguin, 1997), 321. Marx made a similar point in his justification for
journalistic anonymity, that it ensures the reading public sees not who is
speaking, but what he is saying. Marx, Justification of the Correspondent
from Mosel, in Marx and Engels, Collected Works (London: Lawrence
and Wishart, 1975), 1:334.
25 Foucault, Masked Philosopher, 321.
26 Michel Foucault, The Discourse of History, in Foucault Live: Collected
Interviews, 19611984, ed. Sylvre Lotringer, trans. Lysa Hochroth and
John Johnston (New York: Semiotext(e), 1996), 26.
27 Foucault, Masked Philosopher, 28, 29.
28 Michel Foucault, The Archaeology of Knowledge (London: Tavistock, 1974), 17.
29 Nealon, Foucault beyond Foucault, 76.
30 In terms of Foucaults own work, the most significant instance of his anony-
mous writing was that undertaken as part of the Groupe dinformation
sur les prisons, where authorial anonymity played a role in constructing
collective and situated political writing that was immanent to the intol-
erable conditions of the penal system. See Cecile Brich, The Groupe
dinformation sur les prisons: The Voice of Prisoners? Or Foucaults?,
Foucault Studies 5 (2008): 2647. David Macey, The Lives of Michel Fou-
cault (London: Random House, 1993), 25789. Alberto Toscano, The
Intolerable-Inquiry: The Documents of the Groupe dinformation sur les
prisons, Viewpoint Magazine 3 (September 25, 2013), http://viewpointmag
.com/2013/09/25/the-intolerable-inquiry-the-documents-of-the-groupe
-dinformation-sur-les-prisons/.
31 Foucault, Discourse of History, 28.
32 On this distinction with regard to Bourbaki, and the broader division be-
tween collective pseudonyms and multiple names, see Deseriis, Improper
Names.
33 Luther Blissett, Richard Barbrook and Luther Blissett, http://www
.lutherblissett.net/archive/322_en.html.
34 Karl Marx, On the Jewish Question, in Early Writings, 230. For Luther
Blissetts engagement with this text, see Luther Blissett, Introduction
to Enemies of the State: Criminals, Monsters, and Special Legislation in
the Society of Control, trans. Wuming Yi, http://www.lutherblissett
.net/archive/078_en.html.
35 Marx, On the Jewish Question, 230.
36 Ibid., 231.
37 Stathis Kouvlakis, The Marxist Critique of Citizenship: For a Reread-
ing of On the Jewish Question, South Atlantic Quarterly 104, no. 4 (2005):
70721.
38 Luther Blissett, Mondo Mitomane 199496, http://www.lutherblissett
.net/archive/283_en.html.
39 Jean-Luc Nancy, Being Singular Plural, trans. Robert D. Richardson and
Anne E. OByrne (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2000), 154.
40 Wu Ming 1, Interview for Contraveno, 14.12.2003, http://www.wum
ingfoundation.com/english/giap/Giapdigest24.html.
41 Wu Ming 1, Stories Belong to Everyone: Tale-tellers, Multitudes, and
the Refusal of Intellectual Property, http://www.wumingfoundation
.com/english/giap/giapdigest11b.html.
42 Blissett, Richard Barbrook and Luther Blissett. One could say that Marx
himself was groping toward this conjunction of anonymity and general in-
tellect in an 1843 text that includes justification of his choice of anonymity,
albeit that his critical terrain was still liberal democratic: anonymity is an
essential feature of the newspaper press, since it transforms the newspaper
from an assemblage of many individual opinions into the organ of one
mind. Marx, Justification of the Correspondent from Mosel, 33334.
43 Karl Marx, Grundrisse: Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy
(Rough Draft), trans. M. Nicolaus (Harmondsworth, U.K.: Penguin, 1973),
706.
44 Ibid., 705, 694.
45 Paolo Virno, Notes on the General Intellect, trans. Cesare Casarino,
in Marxism beyond Marxism, ed. Saree Makdisi, Cesare Casarino, and
Rebecca E. Karl, 26572 (New York: Routledge, 1996).
46 Marx, Capital, vol. 1, chapter 25.
47 Uncertain Commons, Speculate This! (Durham, N.C.: Duke University
Press, 2013), http://speculatethis.pressbooks.com/chapter/chapter-1/.
48 Sabrina Ovan, Qs General Intellect, Cultural Studies Review 11, no. 2
(2005): 6976.
49 This comment about defeat was made by Wu Ming 1 in a radio interview
with Aaron Bastani and James Butler on Resonance FM, June 4, 2013,
http://novaramedia.com/2013/06/in-conversation-with-wu-ming/. The
remark about allegory, which is presented as Benjamins position, is by
Wu Ming, cited in Marco Amici, Urgency and Visions of the New Italian
Epic, Journal of Romance Studies 10, no. 1 (2010): 10.
50 Luther Blissett, Q , trans. Shaun Whiteside (London: Harcourt, 2003),
74344.
51 Ibid., 481. Sabrina Ovan, Nameless History before and after Las Meninas:
Luther Blissetts Archaeological Fiction, Genre 45, no. 3 (2012): 42341.
52 Stewart Home, The Return of Proletarian Post-Modernism Part II: Lu-
ther Blissetts Recent Best Seller, Metamute, June 10, 2003, http://www
.metamute.org/editorial/articles/return-proletarian-post-modernism-part
-ii-luther-blissettaposs-recent-best-seller-aposqapos.
53 Blissett, Q , 411.
54 Marx, Grundrisse, 278.
55 Blissett, Q , 4034.
56 Ibid., 409.
57 Ibid., 743.
58 Wu Ming, radio interview.
59 Wu Ming, Wu Ming: A Band of Militant Storytellers, interview by
the Celluloid Liberation Front, New Statesman, May 29, 2013, http://
www.newstatesman.com/world-affairs/2013/05/wu-ming-band-militant
-storytellers.
60 Luther Blissett, The Luther Blissett Manifesto, in Mind Invaders: A
Reader in Psychic Warfare, Cultural Sabotage, and Semiotic Terrorism, ed.
Stewart Home (London: Serpents Tale, 1997), 4344. This text is itself
a performance of the multiple name: Originally composed in Italian and
placed on the Net in May 1995, this English language version bears little
resemblance to the first provisional translation, which was accompanied
by a request that it should be rewritten by everyone who found themselves
in agreement with its theses. Ibid., 44.
61 Luther Blissett, Missing Presumed Dead: How Luther Blissett Hoaxed
the TV Cops, in Home, Mind Invaders, 49.
62 Luther Blissett, Negative Heroes: Luther Blissett and the Refusal to
Work, trans. John Foot, in Luther Blissett, Football (Soccer) and the
Refusal to Work, http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english/giap/giap
digest33.htm.
63 Ibid.
64 See Luther Blissett Fantasy Footballer, http://www.youtube.com/watch
?v=3bRuTkmTIjg.
66 The essence of the hoax was that the (fabricated) English conceptual
artist Harry Kipper had vanished on the Italo-Slovenian border while
tracing the word ART across the continent, shortly after attending a
conference in Bologna where he had proposed the collective adoption
of the name Luther Blissett. Their attention piqued, interviews with
Kippers acquaintances drew the television crew of Chi lha visto? (Has
anybody seen them?) across Italy and as far as Londons Isle of Dogs
(or the Isle of Leuthas Dogs, as it is in William Blakes Jerusalem),
where Stewart Home and Richard Essex guided the TV crew to the
wreck of Kippers old residence. Unfortunately, the hoax was dashed,
an overheard bar conversation resulting in the announced program be-
ing pulled shortly before broadcast, but not without the press getting
wind of it and Luther Blissett being launched into the mediascape. See
Blissett, Missing Presumed Dead. Thanks to Fabian Tompsett for the
Blake reference.
67 Luther Blissett, Introduction to Enemies of the State.
68 Henry Jenkins, How Slapshot Inspired a Cultural Revolution: An Inter-
view with the Wu Ming Foundation, 2006, http://www.henryjenkins
.org/2006/10/how_slapshot_inspired_a_cultur_1.html.
69 Luther Blissett, Why I Wrote a Fake Hakim Bey Book and How I Cheated
the Conformists of Italian Counterculture, August 1996, http://www.evo
lutionzone.com/kulturezone/bey/luther.blissett.fake.hakim.bey.
70 Gary Hall, Digitize This Book! The Politics of New Media, or Why We Need
Open Access Now (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2008).
Gary Hall, #Mysubjectivation, New Formations 79 (2013): 83102.
71 Luther Blissett, Seppuku 2000, in Quaderni rossi di Luther Blissett,
accompanying booklet to Luther Blissett, The Open Pop Star, music and
spoken word CD, Wot 4 Records.
72 Wu Ming 1, in Jenkins, How Slapshot Inspired a Cultural Revolution.
73 Virginia Woolf, Anon., in Anon and The Reader: Virginia Woolfs
Last Essays, ed. Brenda R. Silver, Twentieth Century Literature 25, no. 3/4
(1979): 382.
74 Wu Ming, Wu Ming: A Band of Militant Storytellers.
75 Blissett, Q , 89. 90.
76 Martin Luther, more generally, is deemed to have sold the hope of the
Reformation back to the powerful, and to have freed us from the Pope
and the bishops, but...condemned us to expiate sin in solitude, in the
solitude of internal anguish, putting a priest in our souls, a court in
our consciences, judging every gesture, condemning the freedom of
the spirit in favour of the ineradicable corruption of human nature.
Ibid., 405.
77 Ibid., 406.
78 Ibid., 360.
79 Ibid., 472.
80 Ibid.
81 Ibid., 525.
82 Ibid., 535.
83 Gustav Metzger, Manifesto Auto-Destructive Art, originally published
1960, http://radicalart.info/destruction/metzger.html.
84 Ibid., 454, 455, 456.
85 Ibid., 526.
86 Ibid., 483.
87 This point is developed in Bonnie Mak, How the Page Matters (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 2012).
88 Marshall McLuhan, Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man (London:
Routledge, 2001).
89 Kelsey, Translators Introduction, in Michle Bernstein, All the Kings
Horses, trans. John Kelsey (Los Angeles, Calif.: Semiotext(e), 2008), 8.
90 Ibid. This doubling of All the Kings Horses with Reena Spaulings picks up
on a dynamic internal to Bernsteins novel, which is a self-conscious play
on Pierre Choderlos de Laclos 1782 novel of libertine manipulation, Les
liaisons dangereuses, as well as Marcel Carnss film Les visiteurs du soir
(The devils envoys), and forms a double with Bernsteins second novel,
La Nuit, which feeds the same story through the scrambling techniques
of the nouveau roman. In turn, the English translation of La Nuit was
published with its own double, After the Night by Everyone Agrees, a
reflexive engagement with Bernsteins text and the process of translation,
as manifest also in the books covers and design. See Michle Bernstein,
Preface in the Guise of an Autobiography (or Vice Versa), in The Night,
trans. Clodagh Kinsella, ed. Everyone Agrees (London: Book Works,
2013), 910. Everyone Agrees, After the Night: The Meeting of Failures: Act
II (London: Book Works, 2013).
91 Bernstein, All the Kings Horses, 33.
92 Kelly Baum, All the Kings Horses (Review), TDR: The Drama Review
56, no. 1 (2012): 161.
93 Michle Bernstein, Preface in the Guise of an Autobiography, 910.
94 Kelsey, Translators Introduction, 912.
95 This was not the only form of paid labor that Bernstein contributed to
the SI. In an interview with Greil Marcus, as he reports it, she listed the
following: a racetrack prognosticator (I made it all up), a horoscopist
(That too), a publishers assistant, and finally a successful advertising
director (To us, you understand, it was all spectacle; advertising was not
worse than anything else. We took our money where we could find it).
Marcus, Lipstick Traces, 37778.
96 Kelsey, Translators Introduction, 13.
97 Ibid., 14.
98 Ibid.
99 Ibid., 9.
100 Bernadette Corporation, Reena Spaulings (New York: Semiotext(e), 2004), 2.
101 Ibid., 1.
102 Ibid.
103 Ibid., 2.
104 Henri Bergson, Matter and Memory, trans. Nancy Margaret Paul and
W. Scott Palmer (New York: Zone Books, 1991), 9.
105 Ibid., 25, 149.
106 Ibid., 21.
107 Ibid., 95, 32.
108 Bernadette Corporation, Reena Spaulings, 1.
109 Ibid., 13.
110 Ibid., 13.
111 Ibid., 17, 14.
112 Ibid.
113 Ibid., 16.
114 Ibid., 3, 7.
115 Ibid., 63.
116 Ibid., 134.
117 Famously, Marx and Engels describe the conditions of communist so-
ciety in The German Ideology as allowing for me to do one thing today
and another tomorrow, to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear
cattle in the evening, criticise after dinner, just as I have a mind, without
ever becoming hunter, fisherman, herdsman or critic. Marx and Engels,
Collected Works, 5:47
118 Bernadette Corporation, Reena Spaulings, 85.
119 Monsieur Roubignoles presents The Kelsey Collection Artforum 2004
2012, http://www.johnkelseycollection.com.
120 Zac Dempster, Eric-John Russell, Veronika Russell, and Nicolas Vargelis,
Who, or What, Is John Kelsey? A Postscript, http://www.metamute
.org/community/your-posts/who-or-what-john-kelsey-postscript#.
121 See http://tarnac9.wordpress.com/.
122 For more detail on the reception of Tiqqun and incisive assessments
of its theses, see Joost de Bloois, Tiqqun, The Coming Insurrection and
the Idiosyncracies of an Epoch, Historical Materialism 22, no. 1 (2014):
12947. Frre Dupont, Release to Us the Field!, Mute, June 30, 2010,
http://www.metamute.org/editorial/articles/release-to-us-field. Endnotes,
What Are We to Do?, in Noys, Communization and Its Discontents, 35.
For an excellent analysis of the broader range of anonymous practice today,
including, significantly, its role amid the politics of undocumented migra-

tion, see John Cunningham, Clandestinity and Appearance, Mute, http://
www.metamute.org/editorial/articles/clandestinity-and-appearance.
123 Invisible Committee, The Coming Insurrection (Los Angeles, Calif.:
Semiotext(e), 2009), 29.
124 Ibid., 204, 206.
125 Alexander R. Galloway and Jason E. Smith, A Note on the Translation,
in Tiqqun, Introduction to Civil War, trans. Alexander R. Galloway and
Jason E. Smith (Los Angeles: Semiotext(e), 2001), 7.
126 Invisible Committee, Coming Insurrection, 28.
127 It was two years after publication that its authors identities were revealed
for the first time in print, in George Julian Harneys introduction to the
English translation by Helen Macfarlane.
128 Marx and Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party, 3132.
129 The title was thus shortened for the first time in the 1872 German edition.
See Eric Hobsbawm, The Communist Manifesto in Perspective, http://
www.transform-network.net/journal/issue-112012/news/detail/Journal
/the-communist-manifesto-in-perspective.html.
130 Karl Marx, Marx to Ferdinand Freiligrath, February 29, 1860, in Marx
and Engels, Collected Works, 41:82, 81, 87.
131 Amadeo Bordiga, Considerations on the Partys Organic Activity when
the General Situation Is Historically Unfavourable, 1965, https://www
.marxists.org/archive/bordiga/works/1965/consider.htm.
132 Marx, Marx to Ferdinand Freiligrath, 82.
133 Ibid.
134 Marx and Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party, 49.
135 Alain Badiou, Politics Unbound, in Metapolitics, trans. Jason Barker
(London: Verso, 2005), 74, 75.
136 Jacques Rancire, The Philosopher and His Poor, trans. John Drury, Corinne
Oster, and Andrew Parker (London: Duke University Press, 2003), 86.
137 Spontaneity, Mediation, Rupture, Endnotes 3 (2013): 240.
138 For development of this point, see Thoburn, Weatherman.
139 Puchner, Poetry of the Revolution, 52.
140 Helen Macfarlane, Red Republican: Essays, Articles, and Her Translation
of the Communist Manifesto, ed. David Black (London: Unkant, 2014).
Puchner, Poetry of the Revolution.
141 Comit, [Communism without Heirs], 92.
142 Comit, On the Movement, in Blanchot, Political Writings, 106, 108.
143 Comit, [Communism without Heirs], 93.
144 Ibid.
145 See Blanchot, Political Writings, 18990. The use of square brackets in
many of the Comit essay titles in Political Writings is said to be because
the journal did not in most cases use titles, but inspection of Comit re-
veals that the titles are not missing but embedded (and uppercase) in the
opening paragraphs.
146 Comit, [The Possible Characteristics], in Blanchot, Political Writings,
85. It would have been a striking opening text to Comit, as Political Writ-
ings implies, but [The Possible Characterisitics] is part of the body of
paratexts associated with the fashioning of the journal. Many thanks to Zaki
Paul for answering my questions about Blanchots publishing practices.
147 Jacques Camatte, 1972 preface to Camatte and Collu, On Organization, 20.
148 Comit, [The Possible Characteristics], 85.
149 Kevin Hart, Foreword: The Friendship of the No, in Blanchot, Political
Writings, xxiv. Comit, [The Possible Characteristics], 85.
150 Karl Marx, Letter to Arnold Ruge, September 1843, in Marx and Engels,
Collected Works, 3:142.
151 Jasper Bernes, Logistics, Counterlogistics and the Communist Prospect,
Endnotes 3 (2013): 173.
152 Marx, Letter to Arnold Ruge, 145.
153 Crisis in the Class Relation, Endnotes 2 (2010): 12. What Are We to
Do?, 35.
154 Editorial, Endnotes 3 (2013): 10.
155 About Endnotes, http://endnotes.org.uk/about. Editorial, 1.
156 About Endnotes.
157 Ibid.
158 Ibid.
159 Camatte and Collu, On Organization, 33.
160 Editorial, 1.
161 Ibid.
162 Comit, [The Possible Characteristics], 86. This remained just intent,
because only one issue was published.
163 Insipidities, Have a Care: Endnotes 3 and the Resplendent Quetzal,
http://insipidities.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/have-care-will-endnotes-3-ever
-become.html.
164 Ibid.
165 The Holding Pattern, Endnotes 3 (2013): 1254.
166 Sonogram of a Potentiality, in Tiqqun #2, trans. Tiqqunista, ed. D.E. Machina
(Brooklyn: Ptroleuse Press, 2011), 8. I read this in the form of a PDF scan
of a water-stained pamphlet, downloaded from the text-sharing resource
AAAAARG.org. Such scanned printed works present rich post-digital
materialities, as Sean Dockray has so eloquently described. A scan is an

ambivalent image, it oscillates back and forth: between a physical page
and a digital file, between one reader and another, between an economy
of objects and an economy of data. But much else is encoded in the
image: An incomplete inventory of modifications to the book through
reading and other typical events in the life of the thing: folded pages,
underlines, marginal notes, erasures, personal symbolic systems, coffee
spills, signatures, stamps, tears, etc. Intimacy between reader and text
marking the pages, suggesting some distant future palimpsest in which
the original text has finally given way to a mass of negligible marks.
Dockray, The Scan and the Export, Fillip 12 (2010), http://fillip.ca
/content/the-scan-and-the-export.
167 Junius Frey, Letter to the Editor, in Tiqqun, Theory of Bloom, http://
libcom.org/files/blooms.pdf.
168 Ibid.
169 Comit, [Tracts, Posters, Bulletins], in Blanchot, Political Writings, 95.
170 Comit, [Reading Marx], in Blanchot, Political Writings, 105.
171 Ibid.
172 Frey, Letter to the Editor.
173 Tiqqun, Introduction to Civil War, 177, 179.
174 Ibid., 174.
5. Proud to Be Flesh
1 This chapter draws on an interview I conducted with the founders and

directors of Mute, Pauline van Mourik Broekman and Simon Worthington,
and the editor, Josephine Berry Slater, in London on September 7, 2010.
2 Mute, About Us, http://www.metamute.org/about-us.
3 Ceci nest pas un magazine, Mute 19 (2001): 2425.
4 The Magazine That Mistook Its Reader for a Hat!, Mute 25 (2002): 89.
5 Regarding his militancy in Operaismo, Negri describes the magazine
form as pivotal to the break with the Italian Communist Party: Until
the mid-60s our movement was a magazine movement, then we used
leaflets as well, which were distributed in factories. Antonio Negri,
interviewed with Verina Gfader, The Real Radical?, in EP Vol. 1,
The Italian Avant-Garde: 19681976 (Berlin: Sternberg Press, 2013),
202.
6 Antonio Negri, Postface to the Complete Text of the Journal Futur An-
trieur (198998), multitudes.samizdat.net/Postface-to-the-Complete
-Text-of.

8 Ibid., 25.
9 Josephine Berry Slater, Disgruntled AddictsMute Magazine and Its
History, in Proud to Be Flesh: A Mute Magazine Anthology of Cultural
Politics after the Net, ed. Josephine Berry Slater and Pauline van Mourik
Broekman (London: Mute Publishing, 2009): 15.
10 Ibid., 25.
11 Pauline van Mourik Broekman, post on Empyre LISTSERV, June 15, 2010,
http://www.mail-archive.com/empyre@lists.cofa.unsw.edu.au/msg02124
.html.
12 Anthony Davies and Simon Ford, Culture Clubs, Mute 18 (2000): 2933,
30, 35. For Daviess analysis of the situation after the dotcom crash, 9/11,
and the Enron bankruptcy, as capitalist culture reverted to its conservative
instincts, see his Basic Instinct: Trauma and Retrenchment 20004,
Mute 29 (2005): 6777.
13 Angela Mitropoulos, Precari-Us?, Mute 29 (2005): 90.
14 Siegfried Zielinski, [...After the Media] News from the Slow-Fading Twen
tieth Century, trans. Gloria Custance (Minneapolis: Univocal, 2013), 1.
15 Van Mourik Broekman, post on Empyre.
16 The forty thousand print run of each issue thus cost a mere 800. See
Pauline van Mourik Broekman, Simon Worthington, and Damian Jaques,
Mute Magazine Graphic Design (London: Eight Books, 2008).
17 Ibid., 12.
18 Berry Slater, Disgruntled Addicts, 16; Pauline van Mourik Broekman,
Mute, transcript of a presentation at Publications on (Not Only) Art:
Cultural, Social, and Political Uses, Seville, June 1518, 2011, http://ayp
.unia.es/dmdocuments/public_doc06b.pdf.
19 To locate this point more historically, if the Daily Courant was the first
newspaper to be published in Londons Fleet Street, the Financial Times
was by this stage paradigmatic of the industry after Rupert Murdoch
relocated the News International presses to Wapping and the decimation
this visited on the print profession and its unions. Dramatizing the new
situation, the corridors of the Docklands site were apparently lined with
portraits of printers past, a now familiar practice of the representation of
labor as depoliticized heritage in sites where it no longer has physical pres-
ence and conflictual force. Van Mourik Broekman et al., Mute Magazine
Graphic Design, 18.
20 Rosalind E. Krauss, A Voyage on the North Sea: Art in the Age of the Post-
Medium Condition (London: Thames and Hudson, 1999). Rosalind E.
Krauss, Under Blue Cup (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2011).
21 Krauss, A Voyage on the North Sea, 7.

22 Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, 67, 5023. In keeping to the
usual meanings of content and form, I have had to take some liberties
with Deleuze and Guattaris terminology, because for them content
refers to something closer to what I hear mean by form (with expres-
sion taking the role played here by content). There are further dimen-
sions to Deleuze and Guattaris contentexpression dyad that I do not
pursue here.
23 Hayles, Writing Machines, 25.
24 Guattari, Schizoanalytic Cartographies, 253, 255.
25 Pauline van Mourik Broekman, in Jodi Dean, Sean Dockray, Alessandro
Ludovico, Pauline van Mourik Broekman, Nicholas Thoburn, and Dmitry
Vilensky, Materialities of Independent Publishing: A Conversation with
AAAAARG, Chto Delat?, I Cite, Mute and Neural, New Formations 78
(2013): 178.
26 Deleuze, Foucault, 38. Gilles Deleuze, What Is a Dispositif ?, in Two
Regimes of Madness: Texts and Interviews 19751995, ed. David Lapoujade,
trans. Ames Hodges and Mike Taormina (Los Angeles, Calif.: Semiotext(e),
2006), 338.
27 Deleuze, Foucault, 38.
28 Ibid.
29 Magazine That Mistook Its Reader for a Hat!, 8.
30 Ibid.
31 See Puchner, Poetry of the Revolution. This volitional aim is apparent in
van Mourik Broekmans description of the minifesto as a promise, or
commitment, ...a token of faith to an imagined reader. Van Mourik
Broekman, Mute.
32 Van Mourik Broekman, interview.
33 Pauline van Mourik Broekman, On Being Independent in a Network,
Free Bitflows exStream, Collaborative Media (2004): 5. Van Mourik Broek-
man, interview. Toni Prug, Introducing OpenMute, Mute 25 (2002):
89.
34 Gilles Chtelet, Figuring Space: Philosophy, Mathematics, and Physics, trans.
Robert Shore and Muriel Zagha (Dordrecht, Netherlands: Kluwer Aca-
demic, 2000), 8, 7, 3. I owe this reference to John Cussans, with thanks,
and to discussions at the Diagram Research Use and Generation Group.
35 Ibid., 10.
36 Ibid., 9.
37 Ibid.
38 Ibid., 20.
39 Ibid.
41 Dictionary.com, s.v. hybrid.
42 See http://www.metamute.org/editorial/video/video-forever-blowing
-bubbles-walking-tour-peter-linebaugh-and-fabian-tompsett-2008.
43 Deleuze, Foucault, 38. While for Deleuze the diagram is not a visual entity,
in contrast to Chtelet, as a virtual non-place, it is illusive and needs
touchstones, often visual ones, to grasp it. This point is well made in Jakub
Zdebik, Deleuze and the Diagram: Aesthetic Threads in Visual Organization
(New York: Continuum Books, 2012).
44 Deleuze, Foucault, 34. This fortuitous characterization of the diagram as
mute adds a diagrammatic valence to the connotations of Mutes name,
a name chosen in part as a comment on the liberatory rhetoric of...new
technologies, connoting that new technologies didnt automatically grant
a voice; that, in fact, this was to do with operations of power at a social
level. Van Mourik Broekman, Mute.
45 Deleuze, Foucault, 38.
46 Chtelet, Figuring Space, 54.
47 Van Mourik Broekman et al., Mute Magazine Graphic Design, 131.
49 Ceci nest pas un magazine, 24. Magazine That Mistook Its Reader
for a Hat!, 6.
50 J.J. Charlesworth, Crisis at the ICA: Ekow Eshuns Experiment in Dein-
stitutionalisation, Mute 2, no. 15 (2010): 2031. The extended comments
on Charlesworths article, which included a response from the ICA, were
lost to view in one of Mutes later platform changes.
51 Prug, Introducing OpenMute, 9.
52 See the Mute issue Web 2.0: Mans Best Friendster?, 2, no. 4 (2007),
especially Dmytri Kleiner and Brian Wyrick, Info-Enclosure 2.0, and
Angela Mitropoulos, The Social Softwar.
55 Laura Oldfield Ford, in Josephine Berry Slater and Anthony Iles, eds., No
Room to Move: Art and the Regenerate City (London: Mute Books, 2010), 106.
56 Nancy, Inoperative Community, 74.
57 Van Mourik Broekman, in Dean et al., Materialities of Independent
Publishing, 165.
58 Ibid.
59 J.J. King, The Packet Gang: Openness and Its Discontents, Mute 27
(2004): 8087. See also Howard Slater, Prepostoral Ouragonisations,
Mute 28 (2004): 8890, and Jo Freeman, The Tyranny of Structureless-

ness, http://libcom.org/library/tyranny-structurelessness-jo-freeman.
60 Prug, Introducing OpenMute, 89. Van Mourik Broekman et al., Mute
Magazine Graphic Design.
62 CrCollaborativeReviewLibraryContract, http://uo.twenteenthcentury
.com/index.php?title=CrCollaborativeReviewLibraryContract.
63 Worthington, Danger: Contains Books, 174.
64 See http://www.metamute.org/services/r-d/progressive-publishing
-system.
65 See Simon Worthington, Dynamic Publishing: New Platforms, New Readers!,
2013, http://www.consortium.io/research-plan.
66 Van Mourik Broekman et al., Mute Magazine Graphic Design, 130. Ales-
sandro Ludovico, Post-Digital Print: The Mutation of Publishing since 1894
(Eindhoven: Onomatopee, 2012).
67 Berry Slater, in Berry Slater and van Mourik Broekman, Proud to Be Flesh, 20.
68 Van Mourik Broekman and Berry Slater, interview. Berry Slater, in Berry
Slater and van Mourik Broekman, Proud to Be Flesh, 20.
70 Ibid., 102.
72 Pauline van Mourik Broekman and Josephine Berry Slater, in Max Jorge
Hinderer, Proud to Be Flesh: An Interview with Pauline van Mourik
Broekman and Josephine Berry Slater, Springerin, 2009, http://www
.springerin.at/dyn/heft_text.php?textid=2263&lang=en.
73 Critical engagement with POD has since become more widespread, though
see the note of caution from Temporary Services regarding its exces-
sive cost for larger print runs relative to offset and Risograph printing.
Temporary Services, Publishing in the Realm of Plant Fibers and Electrons
(Chicago: Temporary Services, 2014), 26.
74 Berry Slater addresses this generic magazine strategy with regard to 1990s
lifestyle magazines such as The Face and I-D : The (beautiful) face becomes
the magnified signifier of (exceptional) identity, sold to us as something
which stands out and resists homogenization whilst, at the same time of
course, providing the ultimate lure for consumption and conformity.
Berry Slater, Editorial, Mute 2, no. 15 (2010): 6.
76 http://www.metamute.org/editorial/articles/we-are-bad.
77 Howard Slater, Guttural Cultural, Mute 2, no. 5 (2007): 72, 67.
78 Berry Slater, interview.
79 Van Mourik Broekman and Berry Slater, interview.

80 Up to now the communist press has differentiated itself from the capital-
ist press only in terms of content, through the propagation of communist
principles. In its organization, structure, and numerous specific aspects it
remains under the determining influence of the capitalist press. Adalbert
Fogarasi, The Tasks of the Communist Press, in Communication and
Class Struggle: 2, Liberation and Socialism, ed. Seth Siegelaub and Armand
Mattelart (New York: International General, 1983), 151.
81 Ibid., 152.
82 Ibid., 15051.
83 Lenin, What Is to Be Done?, 200, 197, 207, 201.
85 Van Mourik Broekman and Berry Slater, in Hinderer, Proud to Be Flesh.
86 Maurice Blanchot, [The Gravity of the Project], in Political Writings,
57. Blanchots words here come from his preparatory texts for Revue inter-
national, a journal that became a victim before it started of its attempted
reach and experimental form. See Zakir Pauls discussion in Blanchot,
Political Writings, xlivxlvii.
88 Deleuze, Cinema 2, 148.
89 Ibid., 150; Gilles Deleuze, Essays Critical and Clinical, trans. Daniel W.
Smith and Michael A. Greco (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota
Press, 1997), 118.
90 Gary Genosko, Flix Guattari: A Critical Introduction (Cambridge: Pluto
Press, 2009), 4445. For more on Guattaris relationship to the practical
politics of publishing, see Gary Genosko, Busted: Flix Guattari and
the Grande Encyclopdie des Homosexualits, Rhizomes 1112 (20056),
http:// www.rhizomes.net/ issue11/genosko.html, and Franois Dosse,
Gilles Deleuze and Flix Guattari: Intersecting Lives, trans. D. Glassman
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2010).
91 Genosko, Flix Guattari, 41.
92 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 33.
93 Pauline van Mourik Broekman, Editorial: Just a Few of Our Many Prod-
ucts, Mute 25 (2002): 5.
94 Worthington, interview.
96 Bergson, Matter and Memory, 95, 32.
97 Josephine Berry Slater, Editorial, Mute 2, no. 15 (2010): 6. Typical
of Mutes empirically routed approach to these more abstract themes,
her point here is made in reference to Ekow Eshuns formulation of the
ICAs vision, where his statement All that matters is now serves as an
innovation-sounding apology for accommodation with neoliberal cultural
and economic norms.
98 Bergson, Mater and Memory, 33.
100 Pauline Van Mourik Broekman and Simon Worthington, foreword to Berry
Slater and van Mourik Broekman, Proud to Be Flesh, 11.
101 Deleuze and Guattari, Anti-Oedipus, 8. The quotation actually refers to
desiring-machines, the precursor concept to assemblage.
103 The first minifesto was inspired by Quim Gil, who suggested to the board
that readers would be keen to hear about the magazines processes of
transformation.
104 Van Mourik Broekman, Mute.
105 CrCollaborativeReviewLibraryContract.
106 Fallout, 1999/2000, http://www.metamute.org/fallout_1999_2000.
107 Comedia, The Alternative Press: The Development of Underdevelop-
ment, Media, Culture, and Society 6 (1984): 95102. Charles Landry, Dave
Morley, Russell Southwood, and Patrick Wright, What a Way to Run a Rail-
road: An Analysis of Radical Failure (London: Comedia Publishing, 1985).
108 Ibid., front matter.
109 Van Mourik Broekman and Worthington, foreword, 12.
110 Van Mourik Broekman, On Being Independent in a Network, 4.
111 Ibid., 5; van Mourik Broekman and Berry Slater, in Hinderer, Proud to
Be Flesh.
112 Comedia, Alternative Press, 97. Van Mourik Broekman et al., Mute
Magazine Graphic Design, 130. For critique of the Lockean model of the
proprietorial laboring subject that is implicit in some discussion of free
labor, see Mitropoulos, Social Softwar, though the point here concerns
simply the difficulty of earning a living.
113 Gholam Khiabany, Red Pepper: A New Model of the Alternative Press?,
Media, Culture, and Society 22, no. 4 (2000): 44763.
115 Ibid.
116 Ibid.
117 Van Mourik Broekman, Mute.
118 Van Mourik Broekman, Mutes 100% Cut by ACEA Personal Consid-
eration of Mutes Defunding, Mute 3, no. 1 (2011): 18.
119 Josephine Berry Slater, Editorial, Mute 3, no. 1 (2011): 21.
121 Pauline van Mourik Broekman, New Model Mute, http://www.meta

mute.org/editorial/articles/new-model-mute.
6. Unidentified Narrative Objects
1 Zhisui Li, The Private Life of Chairman Mao, trans. Tai Hung-chao (London:
Arrow Books, 1996), 11516.
2 Nikita S. Khrushchev, The Crimes of the Stalin Era: Special Report to the
20th Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (New York: The
New Leader, 1962), 7.
3 Alain Badiou, The Cultural Revolution: The Last Revolution?, in The
Communist Hypothesis, trans. David Macey and Steve Corcoran (New
York: Verso, 2010), 151.
4 Mao Tse-tung, Mao Tse-tung Talks to the People, ed. Stuart Schram (New
York: Macmillan, 1975), 99100.
5 Ibid., 38.
6 Marx, as cited in Khrushchev, Crimes of the Stalin Era, 8.
7 Marxs letter to Blos is usually seen as the origin of the concept of the
personality cult, though its first signs can be traced back earlier, to Marxs
reaction to such patterns of association attendant on Ferdinand Lassalle,
as apparent in an 1865 letter where he objects to Lassalles bombastic
self-adulation and Der Social-Demokrats lick-spittling cult of Lassalle.
Karl Marx, Letter to Ludwig Kugelmann, 23 February 1865, in Marx
and Engels, Complete Works, 42:101.
8 Yves Cohen, The Cult of Number One in an Age of Leaders, trans.
Steven E. Harris, Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History 8,
no. 3 (2007): 601.
9 Ibid., 599. Cohen shows that this disavowal was intrinsic to the Bolshevik
personality cult, fashioning its formal aspects in particular ways.
10 Louis Althusser, Note on The Critique of the Personality Cult, in
Essays in Self-Criticism, trans. Grahame Lock (London: New Left Books,
1976), 80.
11 Badiou, Cultural Revolution, 150, 151.
12 The Economist, May 2430, 2014. Amy Kazmin, Modi Personality
Cult Dominates India Election, Financial Times, April 8, 2014, http://
www.ft.com/cms/s/0/96b8ca94-bed0-11e3-a1bf-00144feabdc0.html#axzz
35FkEXAiA. For a damning critique of Modis culpability in the 2002
genocide in Gujarat and the fascist underpinnings of his Hindutva ideol-
ogy, see Gautam Appa and Anish Vanaik, eds., Narendra Modi Exposed:
Challenging the Myths Surrounding the BJPs Prime Ministerial Candidate
(London: Awaaz Network and the Monitoring Group, 2014). Thanks to

Chetan Bhatt for this reference.
13 Wu Ming, Grillismo: Yet Another Right Wing Cult Coming from Italy,
March 8, 2013, http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english/wuming
blog/?p=1950.
14 Alain Badiou, The Idea of Communism, in Communist Hypothesis, 151.
15 Ibid., 253.
16 Ibid., 250, 252.
17 Ibid., 251.
18 Ibid., 25152.
19 Amadeo Bordiga, The Guignol in History, 1953, https://libcom.org
/library/guignol-history-amadeo-bordiga.
20 Jacques Camatte, This World We Must Leave and Other Essays, ed. Alex
Trotter (New York: Autonomedia, 1995), 176.
21 For details of the many domains and dimensions of the personality cult,
a truly multimedial and intermedial production, see Cohen, Cult of
Number One.
22 Debray, Socialism: A Life-Cycle, 14, 18, 15.
24 Berlin was not alone; each of the thirty-four university cities debased itself
with its own book burnings.
25 Hitlers relationship to the author-function also included its property
form. In a letter recommending early release, his prison governor noted
of Mein Kampf, [Hitler] hopes the book will run into many editions,
thus enabling him to fulfill his financial obligations and to defray the
expenses incurred at the time of his trial. Oberregierungsrat Leybold,
Oberregierungsrat Leybolds Statement about Adolf Hitler in Prison,
September 1924, http://www.hitler.org/writings/prison/. Nazism was of
course funded by industrial capital, not by individual book sales, but the
latter did no harm to Hitlers personal finances. By 1933 he had apparently
made about 1.2 million Reichsmarks from the income of his book, some
250 times more than the annual income of a teacher. http://en.wikipedia
.org/wiki/Mein_Kampf.
26 My focus here on the textual production of myth is in no sense intended
to obscure its other modalities. For a captivating mythopoesis across the
mediums of performance, installations, and comics, see David Burrows
and Simon OSullivans project Plastique Fantastique, http://www.plas
tiquefantastique.org/.
27 Wu Ming and Vitaliano Ravagli, Asce di guerra (Milan, Italy: Tropea, 2000).
Wu Ming, 54, trans. Shaun Whiteside (London: William Heinemann,
2005). Wu Ming, Manituana, trans. Shaun Whiteside (London: Verso

2009). Wu Ming, Altai, trans. Shaun Whiteside (London: Verso, 2013).
Wu Ming, Larmata dei sonnambuli [The army of sleepwalkers] (Turin,
Italy: Einaudi, 2014). Wu Ming has also published a novella, Previsioni dei
tempo [Weather forecasts] (Milan, Italy: Ambiente, 2008), and a sizeable
body of short stories, as well as numerous books under their individual
monikers of Wu Ming 1, Wu Ming 2, and so on (where the numerals are
derived from the alphabetical order of their surnames). This chapter is
not a close reading of Wu Mings novels but a critical treatment of their
work available in English translation and toward my specific concern with
mythopoesis.
28 Wu Ming 1, in Robert Baird, Stories Are Not All Equal: An Interview
with Wu Ming, Chicago Review 52, nos. 24 (2006): 250.
29 Wu Ming, Spectres of Mntzer at Sunrise/Greeting the 21st Century,
in Wu Ming Presents Thomas Muntzer, trans. Michael G. Baylor (London:
Verso, 2010), xxxvii.
30 Jenkins, How Slapshot Inspired a Cultural Revolution.
31 Wu Ming, Spectres of Mntzer at Sunrise, xxxviixxxviii.
32 Ibid., xxxix.
33 Wu Ming 1, Interview for Contraveno, 14.12.2003, Giap Digest 24,
http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english/giap/Giapdigest24.html.
34 Georges Sorel, cited in Wu Ming 1, Tute Bianche: The Practical Side of
Myth Making (in Catastrophic Times), 2001, http://www.wumingfoun
dation.com/english/giap/giapdigest11.html.
35 Wu Ming, From the Multitudes of Europe Rising Up against the Empire
and Marching on Genoa (1920 July 2001), 2001, http://www.wuming
foundation.com/english/giap/Giap_multitudes.html.
36 Wu Ming, Spectres of Mntzer at Sunrise, xxxvi.
37 Ibid., xxxvixxxvii.
38 Ibid., xxxvi.
39 Gilles Deleuze, Bartleby; or, the Formula, in Essays Critical and Clini-
cal, 86. Deleuze, Cinema 2, 219. I have explored the political ramifications
of this thesis, and its intimate relationship to Marxs formulation of the
proletariat, in Nicholas Thoburn, Deleuze, Marx, and Politics (New York:
Routledge, 2003).
40 Deleuze, Cinema 2, 223. Gilles Deleuze and Flix Guattari, Kafka: Toward
a Minor Literature, trans. Dana Polan (Minneapolis: University of Min-
nesota Press, 1986), 17.
43 Marco Amici, Urgency and Visions of the New Italian Epic, Journal of
Romance Studies 10, no. 1 (2010): 14.
44 Wu Ming 1, New Italian Epic: Were Going to Have to Be the Parents,
http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english/outtakes/NIE_have_to_be
_the_parents.htm. Wu Ming, New Italian Epic: letteratura, sguardo oblique,
ritorno al futuro (Turin, Italy: Einaudi, 2009), cited in Amici, Urgency
and Visions of the New Italian Epic, 7.
45 Walter Benjamin, Theses on the Philosophy of History, in Illuminations,
ed. Hannah Arendt, trans. Harry Zohn (New York: Schocken Books,
2007), 258.
46 Wu Ming, 1954, a Pop-Autonomist Novel: A Re:inter:view with Wu
Ming, 2002, http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english/giap/giapdi
gest16.html. Wu Ming, The Best Interview Since..., 2000, http://www
.wumingfoundation.com/english/giap/Giapdigest3.htm.
47 Deleuze, Cinema 2, 131, emphasis added.
48 Ibid., 46, xii.
49 Timothy S. Murphy, Wising Up the Marks: The Amodern William Burroughs
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997), 44.
50 Dimitri Chimenti, Unidentified Narrative Objects: Notes for a Rhetorical
Typology, Journal of Romance Studies 10, no. 1 (2010): 40.
51 Wu Ming 1, New Italian Epic. The subject of a considerable volume of
debate and argument in Italy, the New Italian Epic (NIE) named a loose
constellation of themes, literary techniques, and political investments along
the lines that I am exploring here, but it was not intended to establish a new
genre and was deemed to have soon passed. As Wu Ming 1 reflected in 2009,
the time element is important, because it prevents the NIE from trans-
forming into a current, or worse, a school. The NIE, as a nebula of works
published between 1993 and 2008, is already finished. On the other hand,
the common features identified in those works definitely will return in new
novels, but the challenge is to go beyond the already seen and already cat-
aloged. Jadel Andreetto, Intervista con Wu Ming sul New Italian Epic,
Panorama, http://archivio.panorama.it/cultura/libri/Intervista-con-Wu
-Ming-sul-New-Italian-Epic, my loose translation with Google Translate.
52 Pier Paolo Pasolini, cited in Emanuela Patti, Petrolio, a Model of UNO
in Giuseppe Gennas Italia De Profundis, Journal of Romance Studies 10,
no. 1 (2010): 92.
54 Valerio Evangelisti, Literary Opera, http://www.carmillaonline.com
/2008/05/06/literary-opera-evangelisti-e-lucarelli-sul-new-italian-epic/,
translated on the Wu Ming New Italian Epic entry in Wikipedia.
55 Chimenti, Unidentified Narrative Objects, 42.

56 Wu Ming, cited in Patti, Petrolio, a Model of UNO, 86.
57 Wu Ming, 1954, a Pop-Autonomist Novel.
58 Wu Ming, The Perfect Storm, or Rather, the Monster Interview, trans. Ja-
son Di Rosso, 2007, http://www.manituana.com/documenti/0/8246/EN.
59 As Simone Brioni has recently explored in an interview with Wu Ming 1,
Manituana here exemplifies a concern with postcolonial questionsof
empire and nation, racialization, migration, and liminal territorythat
features in much of Wu Mings writing, most especially in the more
recent works produced under their individual monikers, often in col-
laboration with writers outside the collective. Simone Brioni and Wu
Ming 1, Postcolonialismo, Subalternit e New Italian Epic, http://www
.wumingfoundation.com/giap/?p=20012.
60 Emanuela Piga, Metahistory, Microhistories, and Mythopoeia in Wu
Ming, Journal of Romance Studies 10, no. 1 (2010): 56.
62 Ibid.
63 Wu Ming, in Loredana Lipperini, Manituana, the Clash of Civiliza-
tions and George Bushs Ancestors, http://www.manituana.com/noti
zie/20/8188.
64 Wu Ming, Manituana, 16061.
65 Ibid., 6.
66 Piga, Metahistory, 58.
68 Ibid., 220. Deleuze mentions as an example the work of Charles Burnett,
Robert Gardner, Haile Gerima, and Charles Lane, though he detects re-
lated experimental procedures also in the Arab cinema of Youssef Chahine
and in Pierre Perraults cinema of Quebec, among a number of other third
world or minority cinemas, which form a groping movement toward a
modern political cinema that unfurls the condition that the people are
missing. Ibid., 216.
69 Wu Ming, 54, 1.
70 Wu Ming 5, in Baird, Stories Are Not All Equal, 253.
71 Wu Ming, A Class Apart, That Is: A Hundred Years of Cary Grant,
trans. Bianca Colantoni, http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english
/outtakes/100yearsofcarygrant.htm.
72 Ibid. The embedded quote is from Italo Calvinos Lezioni Americane.
73 Wu Ming, 54, 50.
74 Ibid., 49.
75 Ibid., 42.
76 Wu Ming 1, Cary Grant: Style as a Martial Art: A Conversation with

Wu Ming 1, 2005, http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english/giap
/giapdigest32_3.htm#style.
77 Ibid.
78 Chris Petit, The Concept of Cary, The Guardian, May 21, 2005, http://
www.theguardian.com/books/2005/may/21/highereducation.fiction.
80 Ibid., 148. Deleuze draws selectively on Mikhail Bakhtin and Pasolini in
developing his concept of free indirect discourse, a term that is more usu-
ally associated with the bourgeois aesthetic form of the novel, as I noted
in chapter 1.
81 Wu Ming 1, New Italian Epic.
82 Ibid.
83 Rachel Donadio, Underworld, http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/25
/books/review/Donadio-t.html?_r=0.
84 Deleuze, Cinema 2, 150. Gilles Deleuze, The Shame and the Glory: T.E.
Lawrence, in Essays Critical and Clinical, 118.
85 Blissett, Mondo Mitomane.
86 Wu Ming 1, New Italian Epic.
87 Wu Ming, Manituana, 33.
88 L.M. Findlay, Print Culture and Decolonizing the University: Indigeniz-
ing the Page: Part 2, in The Future of the Page, ed. Peter Stoicheff and
Andrew Taylor (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2004), 131.
89 Ibid., 129.
90 Angelo Petrella, cited in Roslba Biasini, Reconsidering Epic: Wu Mings
54 and Fenoglio, Journal of Romance Studies 10, no. 1 (2010): 72.
91 Wu Ming 1, The First Time I Saw Malcolm, 2005, http://www.wum
ingfoundation.com/english/outtakes/malcolm.htm.
92 Wu Ming 1, Malcolms X and Memory, 2005, http://www.wuming
foundation.com/english/outtakes/malcolm.htm.
93 Ibid.
94 Wu Ming 1, First Time I Saw Malcolm.
95 Wu Ming 1, Interview for Contraveno.
96 Gilles Deleuze, Nietzsches Burst of Laughter, in Desert Islands and
Other Texts, 19531974, ed. David Lapoujade, trans. Michael Taormina
(New York: Semiotext(e), 2004), 130.
97 Ibid.
98 Wu Ming 1, The First Time I Saw Malcolm; Wu Ming 5, From Malcolm
to Hip Hop through Ghost Dog, 2005, http://www.wumingfoundation
.com/english/outtakes/malcolm.htm.
99 Angela Y. Davis, Afro Images: Politics, Fashion, and Nostalgia, Critical

Inquiry 21, no. 1 (1994): 3745.
100 Ibid., 43.
101 Wu Ming, Perfect Storm.
102 Ibid.
103 There is an engaging consonance here with Deleuzes comments on the
desubjectifying sonorous particles of the voice: Some of us can be
moved by certain voices in the cinema. Bogarts voice...its a metallic
thread that unwinds, with a minimum of intonation; its not at all the sub-
jective voice. Gilles Deleuze, Cours Vincennes: On Music 03/05/1977,
http://www.webdeleuze.com/php/texte.php?cle=5&groupe=Anti%20
Oedipe%20et%20Mille%20Plateaux&langue=2.
104 Wu Ming 1, in Enrico Manera, Giuliano Santoro, and Wu Ming 1, Il
pi odiato dai fascisti. Conversazione su Furio Jesi, il mito, la destra e
la sinistra, Giap, January 15, 2013, http://www.wumingfoundation.com
/giap/?p=10807.
105 Wu Ming, 19992009. Hey, You Bastards, Were Still Here! Experi-
ment #1, 2009, http://www.wumingfoundation.com/english/wuming
blog/?p=310. Wu Mings portrait was created before the 2011 Egyptian
revolution and the subsequent restoration of authoritarian state power,
events that lend it significant further associations.
Index
Aboriginal Australians, 48 anti-book, 13, 1116, 2526, 4849,

abstract labor, 4243, 6768, 105, 11011, 14950, 15457, 275;
155, 254 definition of, 12
ACE Digital Uncut forum, 269 Apple (company), 38
Adorno, Theodor W., 57, 61, 72, Arab Spring, 35, 38
8187, 9699; commodity book, Ark of the Covenant, 118
8182; critique of universal Artaud, Antonin, 11112, 14549,
communicability, 82; mimetic 164, 166
relation between content and artists book, 3, 913, 53, 105,
form, 8285; Philosophical 303n23, 304n39. See also
Fragments, 97; revolutionary bookwork
leaflets, 99. See also barbaric Art-Language (journal), 11
asceticism Arts Council England (ACE), 251,
Alberro, Alexander, 11 26569
Albert, Saul, 263 Arvatov, Boris, 6674, 92, 95
Allen, Gwen, 1213, 224 assemblage concept, 139, 225,
All the Kings Horses (novel), 19799, 23334, 24041, 262, 26970
342n90 Assembling (serial publication), 1315
Althusser, Louis, 273, 275 Atelier Populaire, 100101
Amazon (company), ixx, 45 author-function, 58, 17076, 210
Amazon Noir, x, xii authors: and the division of labor,
Amici, Marco, 283 4344, 337n14; punishment of, 171
Anabaptists, 184, 193 Autonomia movement, 101
Anderson, Benedict, 42, 259
AND publishing, 55 Babbage, Charles, 43
anonymous authorship, 5859, Bacon, Francis, 115, 121
16877, 19192, 197, 2057, 210, Badiou, Alain, 2728, 39, 59, 209,
21214, 21619, 337n15, 338n30, 27276, 283
339n42 Baines, Jess, 55
Anonymous (hacker) movement, Bakker, Conrad, 78
169 Balestrini, Nanni, 101
361
362 index
Banash, David, 15758 Blaha, Agnes, 80

Banner Repeater, 13, 51, 55 Blake, William, xixii, 303n19
barbaric asceticism, 9697 Blanchot, Maurice, 24, 59, 11011,
Barber, Stephen, 147 21214, 256
Barrot, Jean, 102. See also Dauv, Blissett, Luther (footballer), 18789.
Gilles See also Luther Blissett (collective
Basbanes, N. A., 73 pseudonym)
Bataille, Georges, 7576, 157 Bodley, Thomas, 98
Baudelaire, Charles, 84, 95, 149 Bolter, Jay David, 4849, 52
Baum, Kelly, 198 book industry, 4145, 155. See also
Baumeister, Ruth, 162 books: as commodities
Beaumelle, Agns de la, 14748 books: authority of, 47, 51, 11418,
Beck, Glenn, 204 121; burning of, 193, 195, 276; in
Beckett, Samuel, 96, 175 Christianity, 11420; and class,
Benefit of Christ Crucified, The, x, 1819, 33, 41, 43, 4547, 80;
(fictionalized book in Q ), 192, codex form of, 4, 6, 4748, 5253,
19496 112, 114, 118, 120, 142, 192, 196,
Beni Memorial Library, 8889 231; collections of, 7980; and
Benjamin, Walter, 57, 64, 7176, colonialism, 4748, 116, 293; as
7981, 91, 96, 99, 107, 276, 284; commodities, ixx, xii, 4148,
critique of use value, 71 3; 8083, 97, 107, 155, 190; figures
fringe areas of libraries, 79; of, 52; and gender, x, 18, 33, 46,
theory of collecting, 7174, 7980, 80, 220; materiality of, 10911,
84, 95, 97, 99 13840, 150; and mimesis, 8285;
Bergson, Henri, 200202, 25960 properties and characteristics of,
Bernadette Corporation (collective 7880, 8688, 95, 11011; and
pseudonym), 5859, 169, 197 race, 47, 80; and regimes of signs,
200, 203 178
Bernes, Jasper, 215 bookwork, 3, 916. See also artists
Bernstein, Michle, 5859, 163, book
197202, 342n95 Bordiga, Amadeo, 16870, 208, 210,
Berry Slater, Josephine, 22829, 275
252, 25760, 268 bourgeois class and culture, 4346,
Bey, Hakim, 190 16162
Bezos, Jeff, 45 Breton, Andr, 75
Bible, the, 82, 116, 12122, 182 British Library, 54
black cinema (U.S., 1970s), 88, Burroughs, William, 138, 28485
357n68 business practices in radical
#BlackLivesMatter, 38 publishing, 26466
index 363
Camatte, Jacques, 88, 103, 159, 210, Comit (journal), 59, 170, 21213,
213, 217, 275 21721
capitalism, 2226, 6668, 229 Comit dAction Etudiants-
Carrin, Ulises, 10 Ecrivains, 170, 212
Carroll, Lewis, 146 commodification of artworks and
Casarini, Luca, 27980 artists, 11
Casarino, Cesare, 73 commodity fetishism, 6771, 7677,
Cascone, Kim, 50 155
Casinire, Jolle de la, 139 communal being, 17881, 191,
Castro, Fidel, 296 200
Catholicism, 116, 12021, 194, 276 communism, 2127, 39, 5760,
Ceauescu, Nicolae, 276 6970, 112, 15051, 164, 16869,
censorship, 172, 174 200, 202, 205, 21213, 274; and
Centre for Disruptive Media, 38, bookwork, 16; of textual matter,
53 ixxi, xiii, 1
Century City exhibition (Tate Communist League, 2078
Modern, 2001), 92 Communist Manifesto, The, 26, 34,
Charlesworth, J. J., 244 20611; authorship of, 2068;
Chartier, Roger, 6, 337n14 translation of, 207, 211
Chartists, 211 communist object concept,
Chtelet, Gilles, 224, 236, 241 6465, 71, 7578, 85, 1012, 108
Chesterfield, Earl of, 80 communist party, theory of, 168,
Childrens Crusades, 139 170, 20518, 222
Chimenti, Dimitri, 285 communist writing and publishing,
Chto Delat? group and newspaper, 3, 1318, 35, 58, 21416, 22021,
5455 254
cinema, 72, 111, 266, 276, 28384, communization theory, 2125
288, 290 conceptual art, 11
Clarke, Ami, 13 Constructivism, 66, 70, 72
cognitive capacity and digital media, Cooper, Gary, 28990
46 Copenhagen Free University, 90
collections of objects, 7274, 91; copyright, 32, 34, 44, 170, 173, 190;
public and private, 74. See also anticopyright, 162, 190, 267,
Benjamin, Walter: theory of 335n214
collecting corporate practices in arts funding,
Collu, Gianni, 88, 103, 217 26869
colonialism, 4748, 116, 293 Cramer, Florian, 50, 54
Comedia group, 26467 credit facilities for consumers, 45
Coming Insurrection, The, 204, 206 Crimp, Douglas, 74
364 index
criticismself-criticism, 125, 133 Descartes, Ren, 121

Cubo-Futurists, 14041 dtournement, 133, 149, 15154, 162,
Cultural Revolution, 112, 122, 19899
12636, 272 Deutsch-Franzische Jahrbcher
culture, value accorded to, 41 (journal), 215
Curtius, Ernst Robert, 114, 121 diagrammatic publishing, 59, 225,
232, 235, 23744, 253, 255, 262,
Daily Courant, The, 231 26771
Dauv, Gilles, 18 diagrammatic writing (Drucker),
Davies, Anthony, 22930 53
Davis, Angela, 29697 diagrams, theory of, 22425, 232,
Dawson, Richard, 251 234, 23637, 24043, 262
Dean, Jodi, 3640 digital rights management, x, 45,
Debord, Guy, 14, 16, 28, 59, 61, 103 5051
4, 111, 14966, 19799; Mmoires, Disobedienti group, 27980
16, 58, 1034, 111, 14958, 16366, distributed authorship, 25354
198, 333n190 Dittmer, Lowell, 13334
Debray, Rgis, 1423, 6162, 256, 276 Documents (journal), 75, 100
Deem, Melissa D., 29 Donadio, Rachel, 291
de Gaulle, Charles, 149 Donaldson v. Becket, 44
de Jong, Jacqueline, 162 Drucker, Johanna, 9, 5253, 86, 90,
Deleuze, Fanny, 11213 142
Deleuze, Gilles, xii, 36, 47, 58, 60, Duras, Marguerite, 212
75, 8788, 100, 10922, 128, Dzerzhinsky, Felix, 273
13446, 151, 155, 16566, 225, 227,
233, 24041, 253, 257, 262, 266, e-books, 45, 52
269, 272, 276, 28292, 29596; Economist, The, 274
compulsion to communicate, Eisenstein, Elizabeth L., 78
36; myth, 272, 28283, 28687, Elijah Muhammad, 295
29092, 29596; writing machine, Endnotes (journal), 68, 170, 21519
11213. See also assemblage Engels, Friedrich, 2627, 103, 122,
concept; diagrams, theory of; 207, 27273
falsifying narration; fascicular English language, 293
root-book concept; free indirect engraving: in the emergence of
discourse; rhizome-book abstract labor, 43
concept; root-book concept Enlightenment, the, 19, 116
drive, 154 ephemerality of print media, 3031,
Derrida, Jacques, 4849, 52, 56, 37, 85, 94, 97101, 120, 149
9293, 110 Essex, Richard, 106, 341n66. See
index 365
also Tompsett, Fabian Freud, Sigmund, 121

Evangelisti, Valerio, 285 Fuller, Buckminster, 251
Futur Anterieur (journal), 226, 260,
Facebook, 3740, 56, 246 269
Fahs, Beanne, 30 Futurist books, 111, 14044, 149
Fallout art project, 26364
falsifying narration, 28390 Galileo, 121
Farocki, Harun, 13435 Gehl, Robert W., 37
Farrachi, Armand, 139 general intellect, 18990
fascicular root-book concept, Genet, Jean, 4849
13839 Genoa: anti-G8 events in, 27981
Febvre, Lucien, 42 Genosko, Gary, 25758
Fellini, Federico, 266 Giacometti, Alberto, 75
Feltes, N. N., 4445 Giap, Vo Nguyen, 296
feminism, 12, 2729, 34, 98 Gilmartin, Kevin, 18
fetishism, 7677. See also commodity Girodias, Maurice, 30
fetishism Gitelman, Lisa, 3
54 (novel), 28890 Giuliani, Carlo, 28081
56a Archive, 98, 101 Goebbels, Joseph, 276
financial crisis (20078), 250 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 121
Financial Times, The, 23132, 347n19 Golan, Romy, 75
Fin de Copenhague, 150, 330n151 Goldsmith, Kenneth, 4
Findlay, L. M., 29394 Gomorrah, 291
Fisher, John, 12021 Goncharova, Natalia, 14445
Five Star Movement, 274 Google (company), 38, 246
Flusser, Vilm, 1718 Gornick, Vivian, 30
Fogarasi, Adalbert, 25455 Gough, Maria, 70
Ford, Laura Oldfield, 246 Grant, Cary, 28892, 299
Ford, Simon, 22930 Greaney, Patrick, 154
Fordism, 21 Great Leap Forward, 127, 120, 132
Foucault, Michel, 58, 109, 113, Greenberg, Clement, 910
16972, 17577, 18990, 295, Grillo, Beppe, 274
338n30 Grin without a Cat, A (film), 296
found object (objet trouv), 7475 Gruppe SPUR, 159
fragment, theory of, 88, 221 Guattari, Flix, xii, 11, 47, 58,
free indirect discourse, 25758, 75, 100, 10922, 128, 13446,
29192 155, 16566, 225, 227, 23334,
Freeman, Jo, 247 24041, 253, 257, 262, 269, 282;
Freiligrath, Ferdinand, 208 institutional psychotherapy and
366 index
journal publishing, 25758; on 228, 235, 240, 242, 25152, 269

writing Anti-Oedipus, 11314. hypertext, 4849, 5253
See also assemblage concept;
diagrams, theory of; fascicular illuminated books, xixii, 121
root-book concept; rhizome- Info Centre, 90
book concept; root-book Infopool project, 9095
concept Ingold, Tim, 43
Guestroom press, 87 inline metadata, 4
Gurianova, Nina, 144 Insipidities (blog), 218
Gutenberg letterpress, xii, 2, 4244, Institute for Social Research, 97
106, 142, 144, 153 Institute of Contemporary Arts, 244
Internationale situationniste
Hall, Gary, 53, 191 (journal), 61, 162, 313n1, 335n213,
Hamburg Theses, 15863 335n214
Hampton, Michael, 13 International Standard Book
haptic aesthetics, 14344 Number (ISBN) system, 45, 106
Haraway, Donna, 28, 34 Invariance (journal), 8889
Hardt, Michael, 3436 Israeli state, 35
Harron, Mary, 31
Hart, Kevin, 213 Jack the Ripper, 154
Hayes, Anthony, 160 Jakobsen, Jakob, 64, 9091, 9597
Hayles, N. Katherine, 46, 10, 50, Jameson, Fredric, 8384
57, 234 Janecek, Gerald, 143
Hayward Gallery, 54 Jesi, Furio, 279
Hedditch, Emma, 90 Jesus Christ, 117, 12021
Hegel, G. W. F., 4849 Johns, Adrian, 79
Heine, Henriette, 90 Jones, Andrew F., 12829
Heller, Dana, 31 Jones, Rod, 102
heretical texts, 44 Jorn, Asger, 14, 16, 1038, 111, 149
hieroglyphs of the anti- 55, 159, 162, 166, 199; Mmoires,
commodity (Rancire), 6264 16, 58, 1034, 111, 14958,
Hitchcock, Alfred, 289 16366, 198; Open Creation and Its
Hitler, Adolf, 145, 276, 354n25 Enemies, 1068
Hoffman, Abbie, x journalism, 25455
Hollier, Denis, 76, 100 journals, 6162, 8586, 1023
Home, Stewart, 90, 184, 341n66 Joyce, James, 121, 138
Horkheimer, Max, 97
Hume, David, 121 Kafka, Franz, 84, 99, 112
hybrid publishing, 51, 53, 22425, Kandinsky, Wassily, 153
index 367
Kant, Immanuel, 84 Lin Biao, 12730, 134

Karen Elliot (collective pseudonym), Linebaugh, Peter, 240
187 Lippard, Lucy, 1112
kArt Boo, 1056 Lissitzky, El, 1
Kearney, James, 11415, 120 Little Red Book. See Mao Zedong:
Keller, George, 159 Quotations from Chairman Mao
Kelsey, John, 197, 199, 203 Tsetung
Khlebnikov, Velimir, 144 Locke, John, 173
Khrushchev, Nikita, 127, 27275 London Psychogeographical
Kiaer, Christina, 57, 6566 Association (LPA), 86, 104, 1078
King, J. J., 247 Lorusso, Silvio, 5354
Korn, Henry James, 13 Ludovico, Alessandro, 50
Kostelanetz, Richard, 11, 13, 15 Luther, Martin, 44, 116, 121, 276,
Kotnyi, Attila, 15860 310n154, 341n76
Kouvlakis, Stathis, 178 Luther Blissett (collective
Krauss, Rosalind, 1, 9, 11, 224, 232, pseudonym), 44, 58, 169, 17781,
234 18795, 200, 278, 292; portrait,
Kruchenykh, Aleksei, 14145 188
Kurczynski, Karen, 149, 153 Lyon, Janet, 2829, 34
Lacan, Jacques, 113 Macfarlane, Helen, 211

Larionov, Mikhail, 144 MacPherson, C. B., 178
late age of print, the 4950 Mad Love, 75
Latham, John, 195 Makdisi, Saree, xixii
Leadbeater, Charles, 23031 Malcolm X, 29298
Leese, Daniel, 12829 Mallarm, Stphane, 8788, 108,
Leibniz, Gottfried, 73, 88 12122, 138
Leigh, Mike, 80 manifesto, xiii, 1, 2636, 81, 113,
Lenin, V. I. (and the Leninist model 145, 164, 189, 207, 23536; avant-
of publishing), 17, 19, 25558, garde, 2728; feminist, 2834
27273 Manituana (novel), 28687, 293
Leroux, Pierre, 17 Maoism, 112, 122, 12526, 135, 299
Leslie, Esther, 72, 99 Mao Zedong, 5859, 111, 12234,
Letters (journal), 54 141, 144, 165, 272, 292, 29899,
Lettrist International, 15253, 156 325n54; Quotations from Chairman
Leys, Simon, 13233 Mao Tsetung , 12231, 13435,
libraries and librarianship, 79, 98 14044, 165, 324n38, 325n57
LIES (journal), 54 Marcus, Grail, 156
Lifton, Robert Jay, 12526, 131 Marker, Chris, 296
368 index
Martin, Henri-Jean, 42 militant books, 11314

Marx, Karl, 1923, 2627, 43, Miller, Laura J., 4142, 45
5860, 62, 6578, 8284, 103, mimeographs, 3031, 61, 89, 94, 97,
107, 12122, 14950, 160, 167, 156, 335n213
16980, 202, 20610, 21415, 221, minifestos, 23537, 24145, 253,
27275; anonymous authorship, 261, 263
17375, 2078, 337n15, 338n24, Mitropoulos, Angela, 230
339n42; author-function, 17275; Moby-Dick, 182
bourgeois rights and individuality, Modi, Narendra, 274
17879; against dogma, 21415; Mohawk language, 293
estrangement and emancipation Monsieur Roubignoles presents
of the senses, 67, 69; against The Kelsey Collection Artforum
personality cult, 27273, 275, 20042012, 203
353n7; sales of Capital, 19. See also Montaigne, Michel de, 121
commodity fetishism; communal monument concept, 100
being; Communist Manifesto; Moore, Samuel, 211
communist party, theory of; More, Thomas, 121
general intellect; proletariat Moretti, Franco, ix
Marxism, 23, 6566, 71, 122, 158, Moses, 11819
272 Mowitt, John, 110
Mascolo, Dionys, 21213 Moylan, Michele, 45
Masson, Andr and Lili, 75 multiple single concept, 17980,
material text, 39, 57 18391. See also anonymous
Mauss, Marcel, 157 authorship
McCalman, Iain, 19 Mntzer, Thomas, 121, 194, 27881
McCann, Graham, 28889 Murphie, Andrew, 3, 51
McDonough, Tom, 152 Murphy, Timothy, 28485
McGann, Jerome, 53 musical notation, 83
McKenzie, D. F., 43, 48 Mute (magazine), 59, 22471; Ceci
McLuhan, Marshall, 142, 196, nest pas un magazine, 224, 228,
332n181 263; commissioning practices,
media ecology (Debray), 16, 18, 25255; editorial voice, 25558;
20, 61, 256 financial model, 26471; and
media specific analysis (Hayles), magazine immanence, 22631,
57 24143, 25254, 262, 26970;
Meins, Holger, 13435 The Magazine that Mistook Its
Melville, Herman, 182 Readers for a Hat!, 225, 23543;
Metzger, Gustav, 182, 195 Metamute archive and website,
Mignolo, Walter, 4748, 52, 115 235, 240, 24345, 25963, 268;
index 369
OpenMute, 244, 24748; POD open source business models, 55

quarterly, 244, 24951, 259, Osbaldeston, David, 250
268; temporal dimension to, Oury, Jean, 257
25860. See also diagrammatic Ovan, Sabrina, 18182, 184
publishing
myth and mythopoesis, 59, 7898 Palestine, 35
pamphlets, 57, 62, 64, 7880, 8597,
Nancy, Jean-Luc, 62, 164, 179, 246 1013, 1068, 193; ephemerality
Nasser, Gamal Abdel, 296, 299 of, 3031, 85, 94, 97101;
Native Americans, 286, 294 etymology of, 1012; as monad,
Nazism, 276 73, 8790; and self-institution,
Nealon, Jeffrey, 170, 17677 9192, 95; vulnerability of, 91
Nedd Ludd (collective pseudonym), paper stock, 9294, 249
169, 187 Pasolini, Pier Paolo, 285
Negri, Antonio, 3436, 101, 22527, Pawson, Mark, 8687
231, 233, 241, 260, 269, 346n5 PDF files, 5051, 34546n166
neoliberalism, 23, 59, 180, 191, 203, Peking Duck Soup (film), 133
22930, 244, 251, 259, 26870 Pels, Peter, 7677
Nesic, Karl, 18 Permild, Verner, 150, 330n152
New Economic Policy, 66 personality cults, 5960, 103, 168,
New Italian Epic, 285, 356n51 27279, 283, 29899, 353n7
News International, 1056 Petrella, Angelo, 294
New Space book shop, 89 Phillpot, Clive, 912, 303n23
New York City, 200203, 208 Picasso, Pablo, 75
Nicolas Bourbaki (pseudonymous Pietz, William, 76
collective mathematician), 177, Piga, Emanuela, 286
347n19 Piper, Adrian, 90
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 138 piracy, 8
nomadic art, 14244 Pollock, Jackson, 153
noncommunication (Deleuze), Popular Book Centre, 104
151 post-digital publishing, 3, 4856
novels, 3, 4647, 197200 Post-Digital Publishing Archive, 53
post-Fordism, 50, 181, 248
Occupy movement, 35, 38, 204 Postone, Moishe, 22
Oken, Lorenz, 80 Potlatch bulletin, 156
Olympia Press, 3031 potlatch exchange, 15557
Olympic Games (London, 2012), Power, Nina, 51
252 press freedom, 17274
open access publishing, 191 Price, Leah, xiixiii, 80, 86
370 index
printed matter, 7881, 8586, 90 Reena Spaulings (novel), 197,

printing process 68, 4244, 105 200203
print on demand (POD), 55, 24851, Reformation, the, 115, 120
350n73 Renaissance, the, 47
programmatism, 21, 26 Return of the Durutti Column, The,
proletariat, the, 2124, 63, 133, 160, 198
16466, 18485, 209, 21314, 282 rhizome-book concept, 58,
prosumers, 256 10914, 13641, 145, 149, 16466
Protestantism, 7, 44, 11516, 12021, Rich, Kate, 263
276 Rising Free (bookshop and press),
Proust, Marcel, 8384 102
pseudonymous authorship, 58, Rodchenko, Aleksandr, 57, 61, 65,
17779, 197 145, 31314n11
publishing industry, 1920, 41, 43, Rogovin, Nikolai, 144
45, 5456, 105 root-book concept, 58, 10911,
Puchner, Martin, 26, 211 11416, 121, 12628, 13445, 150,
Pussy Riot group, 169 15557, 16566, 221
Rose, Margaret, 174
Q (novel), 18186, 18996, 278, 294 Rose, Mark, 171
quotation: as a literary genre, 129; Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 121
resistance to, 8283. See also Ruge, Arnold, 170, 21415
Mao Zedong: Quotations from
Chairman Mao Tsetung Sacks, Oliver, 235
Quran, 182 Saviano, Roberto, 291
Schiller, Friedrich, 84
racism, 35, 189 scrolls, 6, 52, 114, 120, 142
Rancire, Jacques, 6264, 8081, SCUM Manifesto, 2832, 307n98
107, 209 Selcer, Daniel, 114
rationalism, 19 self-differing medium (Krauss),
Raymond, Joad, 9394 910, 23233, 303n26
reader, role of, 56, 8, 12, 1415, self-disclosure, 37
19, 32, 4445, 8184, 8687, 108, self-publishing, 5657, 8687, 90,
13031, 154, 176, 198, 22022, 94, 98
24445, 254, 256, 302n12 semiotic systems, 11617
Real Report on the Last Chance to Seveso disaster (1976), 9091
Save Capitalism in Italy, The, 161 Shah of Iran, 134
Red Army Faction, 13435 Shakespeare, William, 149
Red Guards, 13035 Sinclair, Iain, 86
Red Republican, 211 Situationist, 61, 90, 102, 104, 149,
index 371
151, 154, 158, 16162, 19899, 202 television, 20

Situationist International (SI), 104, Thorie Communiste (journal), 2123
132, 15063, 19799, 326n73, Theory of Bloom, The, 22022
331n155, 336n220 Thvenin, Paule, 148
Situationist Times, The (journal), Thompson, James, 46
16263 Tiempo Muerto (newspaper), 54
Skeet, Jason, 8687 Tiqqun (journal), 2036, 22022
Skeggs, Beverley, 37 Tito, Marshal, 289
Slater, Howard, 90, 16162, 252 Tompsett, Fabian, 64, 86, 94, 1028,
slavery, 46, 65, 120, 178, 286, 295, 22022, 240
313n11 transgressive writing, 171
socialism and print, 1621, 280 transreason and zaum, 14041
social media, 20, 3540, 49, 255 Travis, Trish, 41, 79
Solanas, Valerie, 2833 Trotsky, Leon, 66
Sorel, Georges, 280 Twitter, 4, 18, 51, 56
Soviet Union, 22
Speculate This!, 181 unbound publishing, 53
spells (Artaud), 14549, 166 unidentified narrative objects
Squires, Claire, 45 (UNOs), 283, 29094
Stalin, Josef, 190, 27280 Unpopular Books (publisher), 64,
Stallybrass, Peter, 6869, 76, 142 86, 88, 1027, 321n162
Statute of Anne (1709), 44 user-generated content, 237, 24445,
Steiner, George, 4546 25556
Stevenson, Robert Louis, 149 use value, 7172, 77
Stiles, Lane, 45
Stracey, Francis, 151 Vaneigem, Raoul, 102, 158
STRIKE! Magazine, 54 van Mourik Broekman, Pauline,
Striphas, Ted, 41, 45, 4950 22831, 234, 236, 246, 256,
student movement (UK, 201011), 26061, 26368
253 Venegas, Alejo, 11516, 128
Surrealism, 61, 7476 Vernon, James, 1819
Victoria and Albert Museum, 54
Tao te Ching, 278 Vinet, Ren, 133, 326n73
Tarnac 9, 204 Voltaire, 121, 287
Tatlin, Vladimir, 70, 144
Taylorism, 21 Wagner, Richard, 121
Tazarts, Ghdalia, 252 Warhol, Andy, 3033
technotext (Hayles), 56, 10, Wark, McKenzie, 162
234 Warner, Sara, 3031
372 index
Washington, George, 295 working-class identity, 2123

waste material, 9596 Worthington, Pam, 250
Watts, Mary Jo, 30 Worthington, Simon, 5152, 228,
We Are Bad group, 252 24748, 259, 261, 26465
Weeks, Kathi, 28, 34 Wu Ming (collective pseudonym),
White Overalls movement, 280 5960, 190, 272, 274, 27898;
Willats, Steven, 26364 self-portrait, 299
Wired magazine, 94
Wittenborn and Company, 157 Xing Lu, 130
Wolman, Gil, 152
Woolf, Virginia, 168, 19192, 202 Yuill, Simon, 37
Words of the Chairman, The (film),
13435 Zielinski, Siegfried, 230
workers movement, 1417, 2026, zines, 54, 98
46, 63, 161, 256, 284, 334n206 iek, Slavoj, 39, 125
Nicholas Thoburn is senior lecturer in sociology at the University of
Manchester. He is author of Deleuze, Marx, and Politics and coeditor of
Deleuze and Politics and Objects and Materials. He has published on politi-
cal theory, media aesthetics, and social movements and is on the editorial
board of the journal New Formations.

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Anti-B ook

A Cultural Critique Book

Copyright 2016 by the Regents of the University of Minnesota

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a

Published by the University of Minnesota Press

Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

1. One Manifesto Less: Material Text and the Anti-Book 1

2. Communist Objects and Small Press Pamphlets 61

3. Root, Fascicle, Rhizome: Forms and Passions of

4. What Matter Whos Speaking? The Politics of

5. Proud to Be Flesh: Diagrammatic Publishing in

6. Unidentified Narrative Objects: Wu Mings

Books about books commonly introduce their content by reference to the

logistics, digital rights management, consumer profiling, and the electronic

illuminated printing. Using relief etching, he interlaced image and text

The textual dimensions of Blakes anticapitalist condition of the infinite

Jeremy Anderson, Selina Asombang, Wendy Bottero, Bridget Byrne,

The impossibility of thinking of an aesthetic medium as nothing

The communism of writing and publishing that is developed in these pages

qualities, all of which are interlaced with publishing paradigms, linguistic

in large measure with transformations in technology as the dominant

transcending materiality, culture, and history, there is no such thing...as

forms can be made to do so by the act of reading and interpretation. So,

Eisensteins influential thesis has not gone uncontested. In response,

may rather have destabilized texts, to quote Selcer again, by opening a

publishing, both digital and print, is also characterized by much material

Holding to Johnss injunction to attend to the situated, complex, and

of expressive features and effects. Guattari helps clarify this point. He

reader was caught up in a similar dynamic, in a printed entity that was

Many readers feel the need to be reassured by an authority figure; feel

One might have expected this unedited heterogeneity to result in the

Communism, Writing, Publishing

The second domain of intervention of the anti-book is the material culture

movement and to the capitalist conditions of textual media. It is here

styles. The printer is something of a nexus, the pivot of socialism as a

Moreover, while revolutionary politics would seem to be inextricably

during the nineteenth century, print, championed as the universal tool

the startcomparison between nineteenth-century publishing and now

would seem to be the end of the possibility of socialism understood as a

programmatism is...a theory and practice of class struggle in which

Marx in his more visionary moments pointed beyond the framework of

independent institutions, by which it gained organizational power and

of working-class identity can be overcome, after the cycle of struggles

be caught by the self-defeating limit of workers identity, that communism

here emerge immanently to particular encounters between communist

My casual opening remark that Anti-Book is not a manifesto could have

The modern manifesto works by constructing a political subject

As all self-respecting manifestos, Solanass text launches against its

Solanass we is strategically singular: anything more inclusive would

visage but a rather more estranging typed-text comprising the authors

the universal equivalent of money.104 This performance gains traction

Solanass steadfast commitment to copyrighting her text can also be seen

of SCUM in its nonacronym mode, a politics apparent for example in

by highly repressive regimes. Rather than declare the realization of the

immediacy of attention, connection, and user production that is inscribed

based on monopoly control of its data, tax avoidance, and diversification

I will continue with Dean here, because as well as providing a cogent

better thought, whose ground is a subject refounded on signification

Notwithstanding the intensity and extent of the capitalization of commu-