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2007 Urzone, I nc.
ZONE BOOKS
[226 Prospect Avenue
Brookl yn, NY l I 218
Al l rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored inaretrieval
system, or transmitted inany form or by any means, incl uding
el ectronic, mechanical , photocopying, microfil ming, recording,
or otherwise (except for that copying permitted by Sections [07
and 108of the U.S. C OI )yright Law and except by reviewers for
the publ ic press), without written permission from the Publ isher.
Original l y publ ished asPr~f(lnaziollj 2005 Nottetempo.
Printed inthe United States of America.
Distributed by The MI T Press,
C ambridge, Massachusetts, and London, Engl and
Library of C ongress C atal oging- in- Publ ication Data
Agamben, Giorgio, 1942-
[Profanazioni Engl ish]
Profanations / Giorgio Agamben ; transl ated by J eff Fort.
p. em,
I ncl udes bibl iographical references.
I SI 3N978- 1- 890951- 82- 5
I . Aesthetics. 2. Art- Phil osophy. I . Titl e.
I 3H39A,2132007
111'.8S- dc22
2007023901
Contents
Translator's Note 7
Genius 9
I I Magic and Happiness 19
I I I J udgment Day 23
I V The Assistants 29
V Parody 37
VI Desiring 53
VI I Special Being 55
VI I I The Author as Gesture 61
I X I nPraise of Profanation 73
X The Six Most Beautiful Minutes
inthe History of C inema 93
Notes 95
72
C HAPTER NI NE
PROFANATI ONS
other l ight than the opaque one that radiates from the testi-
mony of this absence.
But this is precisel y why the author al so marks the l imit
beyond which no interpretation can proceed. Reading must
come to an end at the pl ace where the reading of what has
been poetized encounters insome way the empty pl ace of what
was l ived. I t isjust as il l egitimate to attempt to construct the
personal ity of the author by means of the work as it isto turn
his gesture into the secret cipher of reading.
In Praise of Profanation
Perhaps Foucaul t's aporia becomes l ess enigmatic at this point.
The subject - l ike the author, l ike the l ife of the infamous man
- isnot something that can be directl y attained asasubstantial
real ity present in some pl ace; on the contrary, it iswhat resul ts
from the encounter and from the hand- to- hand confrontation
with the apparatuses in which it has been put - and bas put
itsel f - into pl ay. For writing (any writing, not onl y the writing
of the chancel l ors of the archive of infamy) isanapparatus too,
and the history of human beings isperhaps nothing other than
the hand- to- hand confrontation with the apparatuses they have
produced - above al l with l anguage. And just as the author
must remain unexpressed in the work whil e stil l attesting, in
precisel y this way, to his own irreducibl e presence, so must
subjectivity show itsel f and increase its resistance at the point
where its apparatuses capture it and put it into pl ay. A subjec-
tivity is produced where the l iving being, encountering l an-
guage and putting itsel f into pl ay in l anguage without reserve,
exhibits in agesture the impossibil ity of its being reduced to
this gesture. Al l the rest is psychol ogy, and nowhere in psy-
chol ogy do we encounter anything l ike an ethical subject, a
form of l ife.
The Roman jurists knew perfectl y wel l what it meant to " pro-
fane." Sacred or rel igious were the things that in some way be-
l onged to the gods. Assuch, they were removed from the free
use and commerce of men; they coul d be neither sol d nor hel d
in l ien, neither given for usufruct nor burdened by servitude.
Any act that viol ated or transgressed this special unavail abil ity,
which reserved these things excl usivel y for the cel estial gods
(in which case they were properl y cal l ed " sacred" ) or for the
gods of the underworl d (in which case they were simpl y cal l ed
" rel igious" ), was sacril egious. And if " to consecrate" (sacrare)
was the term that indicated the removal of things from the
sphere of human l aw, " to profane" meant, conversel y, to return
them to the free use of men. The great jurist Trebatius thus
wrote, " I n the strict sense, profane is the term for something
that was once sacred or rel igious and isreturned to the use and
property of men: ' And " pure" was the pl ace that was no l onger
al l otted to the gods of the dead and was now " neither sacred,
nor hol y nor rel igiOUS, freed from al l names of this sort," '
The thing that is returned to the common use of men is
pure, profane, free of sacred names. But use does not appear
here as something natural : rather, one arrives at it onl y by
73
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON PROFANATI ONS
means of profanation. There seems to be apecul iar rel ation-
ship between " using" and " profaning" that we must cl arify.
tention that must be adopted in rel ations with the gods, the
uneasy hesitation (the " rereading [rileaaere]") before forms-
and formul ae - that must be observed in order to respect the
separation between the sacred and the profane. Reliaio isnot
what unites men and gods but what ensures they remain dis-
tinct. I t is not disbel ief and indifference toward the divine,
therefore, that stand inopposition to rel igion, but " negl igence,"
that is, abehavior that is free and " distracted" (that is to say,
rel eased from the religio of norms) before things and their use,
before forms of separation and their meaning. To profane
means to open the possibil ity of aspecial form of negl igence,
which ignores separation or, rather, puts it to aparticul ar use.
Rel igion can be defined as that which removes things, pl aces,
animal s, or peopl e from common use and transfers them to a
separate sphere. Not onl y is there no rel igion without separa-
tion, but every separation al so contains or preserves within
itsel f agenuinel y rel igious core. The apparatus that effects and
regul ates the separation issacrifice: through aseries of meticu-
l ous ritual s, which differ in various cul tures and which Henri
Hubert and Marcel Mauss have patientl y inventoried, sacrifice
al ways sanctions the passage of something from. the profane
to the sacred, from the human sphere to the divine." What is
essential isthe caesura that divides the two spheres, the thresh-
ol d that the victim must cross, no matter in which direction.
That which has been ritual l y separated can be returned from
the rite to the profane sphere. Thus one of the simpl est forms
of profanation occurs through contact (contagione) during the
same sacrifice that effects and regul ates the passage of the
victim from the human to the divine sphere. One part of the
victim (the entrail s, or exta: the l iver, heart, gal l bl adder,l ungs)
is reserved for the gods, whil e the rest can be consumed by
men. The participants in the rite need onl y touch these organs
for them to become profane and edibl e. There is aprofane
contagion, atouch that disenchants and returns touse what the
sacred had separated and petrified.
The passage from the sacred to the profane can, in fact, al so
come about by means of an entirel y inappropriate LI se(or,
rather, reuse) of the sacred: namel y, pl ay. I t iswel l known that
the spheres of pl ay and the sacred are cl osel y connected. Most
of the games with which we are famil iar cl erive from ancient
sacred ceremonies, from divinatory practices and ritual s that
once bel onged, broadl y speaking, to the rel igious sphere. The
girotondo was original l y amarriage rite; pl aying with abal l
reprod uces the struggl e of the gods for possession of the sun;
games of chance derive from oracul ar practices; the spinning
top and the chessboard were instruments of divination. I nana-
l yzing the rel ationship between games and rites, Emil e Ben-
veniste shows that pl ay not onl y derives from the sphere of the
sacred but al so in some ways represents its overturning. The
power of the sacred act, he writes, l ies in the conjunction of
the myth that tel l s the story and the rite that reproduces and
stages it. Pl ay breaks up this unity: asluclus, or physical pl ay, it
drops the myth and preserves the rite; aslOCUS, or wordpl ay, it
The term ielipio does not derive, as an insipid and incorrect
etymol ogy woul d have it, from l'eligare (that which binds and
unites the human and the divine). I t comes instead from
ieleqere, which indicates the stance of scrupul ousness and at-
74 ~
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON PROFANATI ONS
effaces the rite and al l ows the myth to survive. " I f the sacred
can be defined through the consubstantial unity of myth and
rite, we can say that one has pl ay when onl y hal f of the sacred
operation is compl eted, transl ating onl y the myth into words
or onl y the rite into actions." 3
This means that pl ay frees and distracts humanity from the
sphere of the sacred, without simpl y abol ishing it. The use to
which the sacred isreturned isaspecial one that does not coin-
cide with util itarian consumption. I nfact, the " profanation" of
pl ay does not sol el y concern the rel igious sphere. C hil dren,
who pl ay with whatever ol d thing fal l s into their hands, make
toys out of things that al so bel ong to the spheres of' economics,
war, l aw, and other activities that we are used to thinking of
asserious. Al l of asudden, acar, afirearm, or al egal contract
becomes atoy. What is common to these cases and the pro-
fanation of the sacred is the passage from areliqio that is now
fel t to be fal se or oppressive to negl igence as vera religjo. This,
however, does not mean negl ect (no kind of attention can
compare to that of achil d at pl ay) but anew dimension of use,
which chil dren and phil osophers give to humanity. I t isthe sort
of use that Benjamin must have bad in mind when he wrote of
Kafka's The New Attorney that the l aw that is no l onger appl ied
but onl y studied is the gate to justice." J ust as the religjo that is
pl ayed with but no l onger observed opens the gate to use, so
the powers [potenzeJ of economics, l aw, and pol itics, deacti-
vated inpl ay, can become the gateways to anew happiness.
stubbornl y seeks exactl y the opposite of what he coul d find
there: the possibil ity of reentering the l ost feast, returning to
the sacred and its rites, even in the form of the inane cere-
monies of the new spectacul ar rel igion or atango l esson in a
provincial dance hal l . I n this sense, tel evised game shows are
part of anew l iturgy; they secul arize an unconsciousl y rel i-
gious intention. Toreturn to pl ay its purel y profane vocation is
apol itical task.
I n this sense, we must distinguish between secul arization
and profanation. Secul arization isaform of repression. I t l eaves
intact the forces it deal s with by simpl y moving them from one
pl ace to another. Thus the pol itical secul arization of theol ogi-
cal concepts (the transcendence of God asaparadigm of sover-
eign power) does nothing but displ ace the heavenl y monarchy
onto an earthl y monarchy, l eaving its power intact.
Profanation, however, neutral izes what it profanes. Once
profaned, that which was unavail abl e and separate l oses its aura
and is returned to use. Both are pol itical operations: the first
guarantees the exercise of power by carrying it back to asacred
model ; the second deactivates the apparatuses of power and
returns to common use the spaces that power had seized.
Pl ayas anorgan of profanation isin decl ine everywhere. Mod-
ern man proves he no l onger knows how to pl ay precisel y
through the vertiginous prol iferation of new and ol d games.
I ndeed, at parties, in dances, and at pl ay, he desperatel y and
Phil ol ogists never cease to be surprised by the doubl e, contra-
dictory meaning that the verb prrj'anare seems to have in Latin:
it means, on the one band, to render profane and, on the other
(in onl y afew cases) to sacrifice. I t is an ambiguity that seems
inherent in the vocabul ary of tbe sacred as such: the adjective
sacer means both " august, consecrated to the gods," and (as
Freud noted) " cursed, excl uded from the community." The
ambiguity at issue here does not arise sol el y out of amisunder-
standing but is, so to speak, constitutive of the profanatory
76 77
78
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON
79
PROFANATI ONS
operation - or, inversel y, of the consecratory one. I nsofar as
these operations refer to asingl e object that must pass from
the profane to the sacred and from the sacred to the profane,
they must every time reckon with something l ike aresidue of
profanity in every consecrated thing and aremnant of sacred-
ness in every profaned object.
The same is true of the term sacer. I t indicates that which,
through the sol emn act of sactatio or devotio (when acom-
mander consecrates his l ife to the gods of the underworl d in
order to ensure victory), has been given over to the gods and
bel ongs excl usivel y to them. And yet, in the expression homo
sacer, the adjective seems to indicate an individual who, having
been excl uded from the community, can be kil l ed with im-
punity but cannot be sacrificed to the gods. What exactl y has
occurred here? A sacred man, one who bel ongs to the gods, has
survived the rite that separated him from other men and con-
tinues to l ead an apparentl y profane existence among them.
Al though he l ives in the profane worl d, there inheres in his
body an irreducibl e residue of sacredness. This removes him
from normal commerce with his kind and exposes him to the
possibil ity of viol ent death, which returns him to the gods to
whom he trul y bel ongs. Asfor his fate inthe divine sphere, he
cannot be sacrificed and isexcl uded from the cul t because his
l ife is al ready the property of the gods, and yet, insofar as it
survives itsel f, so to speak, it introduces an incongruous rem-
nant of profanity into the domain of the sacred. That is to say,
in the machine of sacrifice, sacred and profane represent the
two pol es of asystem inwhich afl oating Signifier travel s from
one domain to the other without ceasing to refer to the same
object. This isprecisel y how the machine ensures the distribu-
tion of use among humans and divine beings and can eventu-
al l y return what had been consecrated to the gods to men.
Hence the mingl ing of the two operations in Roman sacrifice,
in which one part of the same consecrated victim is profaned
by contagion and consumed by men, whil e another isassigned
to the gods.
From this perspective, it becomes easier to understand why, in
the C hristian rel igion, theol ogians, pontiffs, and emperors had
to show such obsessive care and impl acabl e seriousness in en-
suring, asfar aspossibl e, the coherence and intel l igibil ity of the
notions of transubstantiation in the sacrifice of the mass and
incarnation and homousia inthe dogma of the trinity. What was
at stake here was nothing l ess than the survival of arel igious
system that had invol ved God himsel f as the victim of the sac-
rifice and, in this way, introduced inhim that separation which
in paganism concerned onl y human things. That is to say, the
idea of the simul taneous presence of two natures in asingl e
person or victim was aneffort to cope with confusion between
divine and human that threatened to paral yze the sacrificial
machine of C hristianity. The doctrine of incarnation guaran-
teed that divine and human nature were both present without
ambiguity in the same person, just as transubstantiation en-
sured that the species of bread and wine were transformed
without remainder into the body of C hrist. Neverthel ess, in
C hristianity, with the entrance of God asthe victim of sacrifice
and with the strong presence of messianic tendencies that put
the distinction between sacred and profane into crisis, the rel i-
gious machine seems to reach al imit point or zone of undecid-
abil ity, where the divine sphere isal ways in the process of col -
l apsing into the human sphere and man al ways al ready passes
over into the divine.
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON
PROFANATI ONS
" C apital ism as Rel igion" is the titl e of one of Benjamin's most
penetrating posthumous fragments. According to Benjamin,
capital ism is not sol el y asecul arization of the Protestant faith,
asit is for Max Weber, but is itsel f essential l y arel igious phe-
nomenon, which devel ops parasitical l y from C hristianity. As
the rel igion of modernity, it isdefined by three characteristics:
first, it isacul tic rel igion, perhaps the most extreme and abso-
l ute one that has ever existed. I n it, everything has meaning
onl y in reference to the ful fil l ment of acul t, not in rel ation
to adogma or an idea. Second, this cul t is permanent; it is
" the cel ebration of acul t sans tteve et sans merci."> Here it is
not possibl e to distinguish between workdays and hol idays;
rather, there is asingl e, uninterrupted hol iday, in which work
coincides with the cel ebration of the cul t. Third, the capital ist
cul t is not directed toward redemption from or atonement
for guil t, but toward guil t itsel f. " C apital ism is probabl y the
first instance of acul t that creates guil t, not atonement ....
A monstrous sense of guil t that knows no redemption be-
comes the cul t, not to atone for this guil t but to make it uni-
versal ... and to once and for al l incl ude God in this guil t ....
[God] is not dead; he has been incorporated into the destiny
ofman." 6
Precisel y because it strives with al l its might not toward re-
demption but toward guil t, not toward hope but toward despair,
capital ism asrel igion does not aim at the transformation of the
worl d but at its destruction. And in our time its dominion is
so compl ete that, according to Benjamin, even the three great
prophets of modernity (Nietzsche, Marx, and Freud) conspire
with it; they are, in some way, on the side of the rel igion of
despair. " This passage of the pl anet 'Man' through the house of
despair in the absol ute l onel iness of his path is the ethos that
Nietzsche defined. This man is the superman, the first to rec-
ognize the rel igion of capital ism and begin to bring it to ful fil l -
ment," ? Freudian theory, too, bel ongs to the priesthood of the
capital ist cul t: " What has been repressed, the idea of sin, is
capital itsel f, which pays interest on the hel l of the uncon-
scious: '8 And for Marx, capital ism " becomes social ism by means
of the simpl e and compound interest that are functions of
Schuld [guil t/debt J ." 9
Let us try to carryon Benjamin's refl ections from the perspec-
tive that interests us here. We coul d say that capital ism, in
pushing to the extreme atendency al ready present in C hris-
tianity, general izes in every domain the structure of separation
that defines rel igion. Where sacrifice once marked the passage
from the profane to the sacred and from the sacred to the pro-
fane, there is now aSingl e, mul tiform, ceasel ess process of
separation that assail s every thing, every pl ace, every human
activity in order to divide it from itsel f. This process isentirel y
indifferent tothe caesura between sacred and profane, between
divine and human. In its extreme form, the capital ist rel igion
real izes the pure form of separation, to the point that there is
nothing l eft to separate. An absol ute profanation without re-
mainder now coincides with an equal l y vacuous and total con-
secration. I n the commodity, separation inheres in the very
form of the object, which spl its into use- val ue and exchange-
val ue and is transformed into an ungraspabl e fetish. The same
is true for everything that isdone, produced, or experienced-
even the human body, even sexual ity, even l anguage. They are
now divided from themsel ves and pl aced in aseparate sphere
that no l onger defines any substantial division and where al l use
becomes and remains impossibl e. This sphere is consumption.
80
81
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON PROFANATI ONS
I f, as has been suggested, we use the term " spectacl e" for the
extreme phase of capital ism in which we are now l iving, in
which everything isexhibited inits separation from itsel f, then
spectacl e and consumption are the two sides of asingl e impos-
sibil ity of using. What cannot be used is, assuch, given over to
consumption or to spectacul ar exhibition. This means that it
has become impossibl e to profane (or at l east that it requires
special procedures). I f to profane means to return to common
use that which has been removed to the sphere of the sacred,
the capital ist rel igion in its extreme phase aims at creating
something absol utel y unprofanabl e.
before being exercised nor whil e being exercised nor after
having been exercised. I nfact, consumption, even in the act in
which it is exercised, isal ways in the past or the future and, as
such, cannot be said to exist in nature, but onl y in memory or
anticipation. Therefore, it cannot be had but in the instant of
its disappearance," !"
I n this way, with an unwitting prophecy, J ohn XXI I
provided the paradigm of an impossibil ity of using that has
reached its ful fil l ment many centuries l ater in consumer soci-
ety. This obstinate denial of use, however, captures the nature
of use more radical l y than coul d any definition put forth by the
Franciscan order. For pure use appears, in the Pope's account,
not so much as something inexistent - indeed, it exists for an
instant in the act of consumption - but rather as something
that one coul d never have, that one coul d never possess as
property (dominium). That is to say, use isal ways arel ationship
with something that cannot be appropriated; it refers to things
insofar asthey cannot become objects of possession. But in this
way use al so l ays bare the true nature of property, which is
nothing but the device that moves the free use of men into a
separate sphere, where it is converted into aright. I f, today,
consumers in mass society are unhappy, it is not onl y because
they consume objects that have incorporated within them-
sel ves their own inabil ity to be used. I t is al so, and above al l ,
because they bel ieve they are exercising their right to property
on these objects, because they have become incapabl e of pro-
faning them.
The theol ogical canon of consumption as the impossibil ity of
use was establ ished in the thirteenth century by the Roman
C uria during itsconfl ict with the Franciscan order. I ntheir cal l
for " highest poverty," the Franciscans asserted the possibil ity
of a use entirel y removed from the sphere of l aw [diritto],
which, inorder to distinguish it from usufruct and from every
other right [diritto] to use, they cal l ed ususiacti, cl efacto use
(or use offact). Against them, J ohn xxrr, an impl acabl e adver-
sary of the order, issued his bul l Ad Conditoretn Canonum. I n
things that are objects of consumption, such asfood, cl othing,
and so on, there cannot exist, he argues, ause distinct from
proper~y, because this use coincides entirel y with the act of
their consumption, that is, their destruction (abusus). C on-
sumption, which necessaril y destroys the thing, isnothing but
the impossibil ity or the negation of use, which presupposes
that the substance of the thing remains intact (salvo rei substan-
tia). That is not al l : asimpl e de facto use, distinct from prop-
erty, does not exist in nature; it is in no way something that
one can " have: ' " The act of use itsel f exists in nature neither
The impossibil ity of using has its embl ematic pl ace in the
Museum. The museification of the worl d is today an accom-
pl ished fact. One by one, the spiritual potential ities that
82 83
84
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON
8
PROFANATI ONS
defined the peopl e's l ives - art, rel igion, phil osophy, the idea
of nature, even pol itics - have docil el y withdrawn into the
Museum. " Museum" here isnot agiven physical space or pl ace
but the separate dimension to which what was once - but isno
l onger - fel t as true and decisive has moved. In this sense, the
Museum can coincide with an entire city (such as Evora and
Venice, which were decl ared Worl d Heritage sites), aregion
(when it isdecl ared apark or nature preserve), and even agroup
of individual s (insofar as they represent aform of l ife that has
disappeared). But more general l y, everything today can become
aMuseum, because this term simpl y designates the exhibition
of animpossibil ity of using, of dwel l ing, of experiencing.
Thus, in the Museum, the anal ogy between capital ism and
rel igion becomes cl ear. The Museum occupies exactl y the space
and function once reserved for the Templ e asthe pl ace of sacri-
fice. To the faithful in the Templ e - the pil grims who woul d
travel across the earth from ternpl e to ternpl e, from sanctuary
to sanctuary - correspond today the tourists who restl essl y
travel in aworl d that has been abstracted into aMuseum. But
whil e the faithful and the pil grims ul timatel y participated in a
sacrifice that reestabl ished the right rel ationships between the
divine and the human by moving the vietim into the sacred
sphere, the tourists cel ebrate on themsel ves asacrificial act that
consists in the anguishing experience of the destruction of al l
possibl e use. I f the C hristians were " pil gri ms," that is, strangers
on the earth, because their homel and was inheaven, the adepts
of the new capital ist cul t have no homel and because they dwel l
in the pure form of separation. Wherever they go, they find
pushed to the extreme the same impossibil ity of dwel l ing that
they knew in their houses and their cities, the same inabil ity to
use that they experienced in supermarkets, in mal l s, and on
tel evision shows. For this reason, insofar as it represents the
cul t and central al tar of the capital ist rel igion, tourism is the
primary industry in the worl d, invol ving more than six hun-
dred and fifty mil l ion peopl e each year. Nothing isso astonish-
ing asthe fact that mil l ions of ordinary peopl e are abl e to carry
out on their own fl esh what is perhaps the most desperate ex-
perience that one can have: the irrevocabl e l oss of al l use, the
absol ute impossibil ity of profaning.
I t is, however, possibl e that the unprofanabl e, onwhich the cap-
ital ist rel igion isfounded, isnot trul y such, and that today there
are stil l effective forms of profanation. For this reason, we must
recal l that profanation does not simpl y restore something l ike a
natural use that existed before being separated into the rel i-
gious, economic, or juridical sphere. As the exampl e of pl ay
cl earl y shows, this operation ismore cunning and compl ex than
that and isnot l imited to abol ishing the form of separation in
order to regain an uncontaminated use that l ies either beyond
or before it. Even innature there are profanations. The cat who
pl ays with abal l of yarn asif it were amouse - just as the chil d
pl ays with ancient rel igious symbol s or objects that once
bel onged to the economic sphere - knowingl y uses the charac-
teristic behaviors of predatory activity (or, in the case of the
chil d, of the rel igious cul t or the worl d of work) invain. These
behaviors are not effaced, but, thanks to the substitution of the
yarn for the mouse (or the toy for the sacred object), deacti-
vated and thus opened up to anew, possibl e use.
But what sort of use? For the cat, what is the possibl e use
for the bal l of yarn? I t consists in freeing abehavior from its
genetic inscription within agiven sphere (predatory activity,
hunting). The freed behavior stil l reproduces and mimics the
PROFANATI ONS
forms of the activity from which it has been emancipated, but,
inemptying them of their sense and of any obl igatory rel ation-
ship to an end, it opens them and makes them avail abl e for a
new use. The game with the yarn l iberates the mouse from
being prey and the predatory activity from being necessaril y
directed toward the capture and death of the mouse. And yet,
this pl ay stages the very same behaviors that define hunting.
The activity that resul ts from this thus becomes apure means,
that is, apraxis that, whil e firml y maintaining its nature as a
means, is emancipated from its rel ationship to an end; it has
joyousl y forgotten its goal and can now show itsel f assuch, asa
means without an end. The creation of anew use is possibl e
onl y by deactivating anol d use, rendering it inoperative.
I :
Separation is al so and above al l exercised in the sphere of tbe
body, as the repression and separation of certain physiol ogical
functions. One of these isdefecation, which, in our society, is
isol ated and bidden by means of aseries of devices and prohibi-
tions that concern both behavior and l anguage. What coul d it
mean to " profane defecation" ? C ertainl y not to regain asup-
posed natural ness, or simpl y to enjoy it asaperverse transgres-
sion (which is stil l better than nothing). Rather, it is amatter
of archaeol ogical l y arriving at defecation asafiel d of pol ar ten-
sions between nature and cul ture, private and publ ic, singul ar
and common. That is: to l earn a new use for feces, just as
babies tried to do in their way, before repression and separa-
tion intervened. The forms of this common use can onl y be
invented col l ectivel y. As I tal o C al vino once noted, feces are a
human production just l ike any other, onl y there has never
been ahistory of them." This is why every individual attempt
to profane them can have onl y aparodic val ue, asin the scene
I :i
~I
I l l i
86
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON
where the dinner party defecates around adining tabl e in the
fil m by Luis Bufiuel ."
Feces - it is cl ear - are here onl y as asymbol of what has
been separated and can be returned to common use. But is a
society without separation possibl e? The question is perhaps
poorl y formul ated. For to profane means not simpl y to abol ish
and erase separations but to l earn to put them to anew use, to
pl ay with them. The cl assl ess society is not asociety that has
abol ished and l ost al l memory of cl ass differences but asociety
that has l earned to deactivate the apparatuses of those differ-
ences in order to make anew use possibl e, in order to trans-
form them into pure means.
Nol hing, however, isasfragil e and precarious as tbe sphere
of pure means. Pl ay, in our society, al so has an episodic charac-
ter, after which normal l ife must once again continue on its
course (and the cat must continue its hunt). No one knows
better than chil dren how terribl e and disquieting atoy can be
once the game it forms apart of isover. The instrument of l ib-
eration turns into an awkward piece of wood; the dol l on
which the l ittl e girl has showered her l ove becomes acol d,
shameful wax puppet that an evil magician can capture and
bewitch and use against us.
This evil magician is the high priest of the capital ist rel igion. I f
the apparatuses of the capital ist cul t are soeffective, it isnot so
much because they act on primary behaviors, but because they
act on pure means, that is, on behaviors that have been sepa-
rated from themsel ves and thus detached from any rel ationship
to an end. I n its extreme phase, capital ism is nothing but a
gigantic apparatus for capturing pure means, that is, profana-
tory behaviors. Pure means, which represent the deactivation
87
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON
88 89
PROFANATI ONS
and rupture of al l separation, are in turn separated into aspe-
cial sphere. Language is one exampl e. Tobe sure, power has
al ways sought to secure control of social communication, using
l anguage as ameans for diffusing its own ideol ogy and induc-
ing vol untary obedience. But today this instrumental function
- which isstil l effective at the margins of the system, when sit-
uations of danger or exception arise - has ceded its pl ace to a
different procedure of control , which, in separating l anguage
into the spectacul ar sphere, assail s it in its idl ing, that is, in its
possibl e profanatory potential . More essential than the func-
tion of propaganda, which views l anguage as an instrument
directed toward anend, isthe capture and neutral ization of the
pure means par excel l ence, that is, l anguage that has emanci-
pated itsel f from its communicative ends and thus makes itsel f
avail abl e for anew use.
The apparatuses of the media aim precisel y at neutral izing
this profanatory power of l anguage aspure means, at prevent-
ing l anguage from discl osing the possibil ity of anew use, anew
experience of the word. Al ready the church, after the first two
centuries of hoping and waiting, conceived of its function
as essential l y one of neutral izing the new experience of the
word that Paul , pl acing it at the center of the messianic
announcement, had cal l ed pistis, faith. The same thing occurs
in the system of the spectacul ar rel igion, where the pure means,
suspended and exhibited in the sphere of the media, shows its
own emptiness, speaks onl y its own nothingness, asif no new
use were possibl e, asif no other experience of the word were
possibl e.
This nul l ification of pure means is most cl ear in the apparatus
that, more than any other, appears to have real ized the capital -
ist dream of producing an unprofanabl e: pornography. Those
who have some famil iarity with the history of erotic photogra-
phy know that inits beginnings the model s put on aromantic,
al most dreamy expression, asif the camera had caught them in
the intimacy of their boudoirs. Sometimes, l azil y stretched on
canapes, they pretend to sl eep or even read, asin certain nudes
by Bruno Braquehais and Louis- C amil l e d'Ol ivier. Other times,
it seems that the indiscreet photographer has caught them al l
al one, l ooking at themsel ves in the mirror (this is the scene
preferred by Auguste Bel l oc). Quite soon, however, instep with
the capital ist absol utization of the commodity and exchange-
val ue, their expressions changed and became more brazen; the
poses more compl icated and animated, as if the model s were
intentional l y exaggerating their indecency, thus showing their
awareness of being exposed to the l ens. But it is onl y in our
time that this process arrives at its extreme stage. Fil m histori-
ans record as adisconcerting novel ty the sequence in Summer
with Monika (1952) when the protagonist, Harriet Andersson,
suddenl y fixes her gaze for afew seconds on the camera (" Here
for the first time inthe history of cinema," the director I ngmar
Bergman commented, " there is establ ished ashamel ess and
direct contact with the spectator" ). Since then, pornography
has rendered this procedure banal : in the very act of executing
their most intimate caresses, porn stars now l ook resol utel y
into the camera, showing that they are more interested in the
spectator than in their partners.
Thus isful l y real ized the principl e that Benjamin articul ated
in 1936 whil e writing " Eduard Fuchs: C ol l ector and Historian."
" I f there is anything sexual l y arousing here," he writes, " it is
more the idea that anaked body isbeing exhibited before the
camera than the sight of nakedness itsel f'!3 One year earl ier,
I N PRAI SE OF PROFANATI ON PROFANATI ONS
Benjamin had created the concept of " exhibition- val ue" (Aus-
stellun8swert) to characterize the transformation that the work
of art undergoes in the era of its technol ogical reproducibil ity.
Nothing better characterizes the new condition of objects and
even of the human body in the era of ful fil l ed capital ism. I nto
the Marxian opposition between use- val ue and exchange-
val ue, exhibition- val ue introduces athird term, which cannot
be reduced to the first two. I t is not use- val ue, because what
is exhibited is, as such, removed from the sphere of use; it is
not exchange- val ue, because it in no way measures any l abor
power.
But it is perhaps onl y in the sphere of the human face that
the mechanism of exhibition- val ue finds its proper pl ace. I t isa
common experience that the face of awoman who feel s she is
being l ooked at becomes inexpressive. That is, the awareness of
being exposed to the gaze creates avacuum in consciousness
and powerful l y disrupts the expressive processes that usual l y
animate the face. I t isthis brazen - faced indifference that fashion
model s, porn stars, and others whose profession it is to show
themsel ves must l earn to acquire: they show nothing but the
showing itsel f (that is, one's own absol ute medial ity). I n this
way, the face isl oaded until it bursts with exhibition- val ue. Yet,
precisel y through this nul l ification of expressivity, eroticism
penetrates where it coul d have no pl ace: the human face, which
does not know nudity, for it isal ways al ready bare. Shown asa
pure means beyond any concrete expressivity, it becomes avail -
abl e for anew use, anew form of erotic communication.
One porn star, who passes off her efforts as artistic per-
formances, has recentl y pushed this procedure to the extreme.
She has hersel f photographed in the act of performing or sub-
mitting to the most obscene acts, but al ways so that her face is
ful l y visibl e in the foreground. But instead of simul ating pl eas-
ure, asdictated by the conventions of the genre, she affects and
displ ays - l ike fashion model s - the most absol ute indifference,
the most stoic ataraxy. To whom is C hl oe des Lysses indiffer-
ent? Toher partner, certainl y. But al so to the spectators, who
are surprised to find that the star, al though she is aware of
being exposed to the gaze, hasn't even the sl ightest compl icity
with them. Her impassive face breaks every connection be-
tween l ived experience and the expressive sphere; it no l onger
expresses anything but shows itsel f asapl ace without ahint of
expression, asapure means.
I t isthis profanatory potential that the apparatus of pornog-
raphy seeks to neutral ize. What it captures isthe human capac-
ity to l et erotic behaviors idl e, to profane them, by detaching
them from their immediate ends. But whil e these behaviors
thus open themsel ves to adifferent possibl e use, which con-
cerns not so much the pl easure of the partner asanew col l ec-
tive use of sexual ity, pornography intervenes at this point to
bl ock and divert the profanatory intention. The sol itary and
desperate consumption of the pornographic image thus re-
pl aces the promise of anew use.
Al l apparatuses of power are al ways doubl e: they arise, on
the one hand, from an individual subjectivizing behavior and,
n the other, from its capture in aseparate sphere. There is
often nothing reprehensibl e about the individual behavior in
itsel f, and it can, indeed, express al iberatory intent; it isrepre-
hensibl e onl y if the behavior - when it has not been con-
strained by circumstances or by force - l ets itsel f be captured
in the apparatus. Neither the brazen- faced gesture of the porn
star nor the impassive face of the fashion model is, as such, to
be bl amed. I nstead, what is disgraceful - both pol itical l y and
90
J
PROFANATI ONS
moral l y - are the apparatus of pornography and the apparatus
of the fashion show, which have diverted them from their pos-
sibl e use.
The unprofanabl e of pornography - everything that is un-
profanabl e - is founded on the arrest and diversion of an au-
thentical l y profanatory intention. For this reason, we must
al ways 'wrest from the apparatuses - from al l apparatuses - the
possibil ity of use that they have captured. The profanation of
the unprofanabl e isthe pol itical task of the coming generation.
9
2
C HAPTER TEN
The Six Most Beautiful Minutes In
the History of Cinema
Sancho Panza enters acinema inaprovincial city. He isl ooking
for Don Quixote and finds him sitting off to the side, staring at
the screen. The theater is al most ful l ; the bal cony - which is a
sort of giant terrace - is packed with raucous chil dren. After
several unsuccessful attempts to reach Don Quixote, Sancho
rel uctantl y sits down in one of the l ower seats, next to al ittl e
girl (Dul cinea?), who offers him al ol l ipop. The screening has
begun; it isacostume fil m: on the screen, knights in armor are
riding al ong. Suddenl y, awoman appears; she isin danger. Don
Quixote abruptl y rises, unsheaths his sword, rushes toward the
screen, and, with several l unges, begins to shred the cl oth. The
woman and the knights are stil l visibl e on the screen, but the
bl ack sl ash opened by Don Quixote's sword grows ever l arger,
impl acabl y devouring the images. I nthe end, nothing isl eft of
the screen, and onl y the wooden structure supporting it re-
mains visibl e. The outraged audience l eaves the theater, but the
chil dren onthe bal cony continue their fanatical cheers for Don
Quixote. Onl y the l ittl e girl down on the fl oor stares at him in
disapproval ,
What are we to do with our imaginations? Love them and
bel ieve in them to the point of having to destroy and fal sify
Notes
PROFANATI ONS
them (this is perhaps the meaning of Orson Wel l es's fil ms).
But when, in the end, they reveal themsel ves to be empty and
unful fil l ed, when they show the nul l ity of which they are made,
onl y then can we pay the price for their truth and understand
that Dul cinea - whom we have saved - cannot l ove us.
C Hi\PTER ONE: GENl l l S
I . Literal l y: Hence inrespect to the god we touch our forehead.
2. See Friedrich Hol derl in, " Dichterberuf" (The Poet's Vocation), Siimt-
licbe Werke, ed. Friedrich Beissner (Frankfurt: l nsel , 1961), p. 262.
3. See Giorgio Agamben, The Open: Man and Animal, trans. Kevin Attcl l
(Stanford, C A: Stanford University Press, 2004), ch. 18, which referes to
Benjamin's notion of " the saved night [die gerettete NaclnJ."
C HAPTER Two: MAGI C AND HAPPI NESS
I . See Wal ter Benjamin, " Fritz Frankel : Protocol or the Mescal ine
Experiment of May 22, 1934," On Hashish, ed. Howard Eil and (C ambridge,
MA: Bel knap Press, 2006), p. 87.
2. Wol fgang Amadeus Mozart to J oseph Bul l inger, Aug. 17, 1778, The
Letters ~IMozart and His Family, ed. Emil y Anderson, 2nd ed., ed. A. Hyatt
King and Monica C arol an (London: Macmil l an, 1966), vol . 2, p. 594.
3. I mmanuel Kant, The Metaphysics of Morals, trans. Mary Gregor (C am-
bridge: C ambridge University Press, 1991), pp. 269- 70.
4. Quoted inWal ter Benjamin, " Franz Kafka," Selected Writings, Volume
2, /927- 1934, ed. Michael W. J ennings, Howard Eil and, and Gary Smith,
trans. Rodney Livingstone (C ambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1999), p. 798.
94 5
96
NOTES PROFANATI ONS
5. Franz Kafka, Diary entry for October 18, 1921, The Diaries of Franz
Kcifka, 1910-1923, ed. Max Brod (New York: Schocken, 1948- 49), P: 393.
C HAPTER FOUR: THE ASSI STANTS
1. Wal ter Benjamin, " Franz Kafka," Selected Writ.iIl8s, Volume 2, 1927-
1934, ed. Michael W. J ennings, Howard Eil and, and Gary Smith, trans. Rod-
ney Livingstone (C ambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999), P: 799.
2. C arl o C ol l odi, The Ac/i'entures of Pinocchio: Story r:I a Puppet, ed. and
trans. Nicol as J . Perel l a (Berkel ey: University of C al ifornia Press, 1986), P:
89.
3. lbid., p. 347.
4. l bn al - Arabi, The Meccos: Bevetations, cd. Michel C hodkiewicz (Paris:
Sindbard, 1989), pp. 119- 47.
5. Ibid., p. 120.
6. Wal ter Benjamin, " Berl in C hil dhood around 1900," Selected WritiIl8s,
Volume 3, 1935-1938, ed. Howard Eil and and Michael W. J ennings, trans.
Edmond J ephcott (C ambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002), pp.
384- 85.
2. Morante, L'isola di Arturo, p. 317; Arturo's Island, p. 309 (transl ation
emended).
3. Morante, L'isola di Arturo, P: 339; Arturo's Island, P: 332 (here the
transl ation al so uses " Grotesque" ).
4. Aristotl e, Poetics ch. 2.
5. C icero, Orator ad M. Brutum 17. 54.
6. Edmondo de Amicis, Heart: A School-Boy'sJournal (1886; New York:
C rowel l , 1901).
7. Friedrich Nietzsche to jacob Burkhardt, J an. 6, 1889, The Portable
Nietzsche, ed. Wal ter Kaufmann (New York: Viking, 1954), pp. 685 and 687.
8. Audigier, in Paul Brians (ed.), Bawdy TalesJrom the Courts of Medieval
France (New York: Harper and Row, 1972), pp. 57 and 66. Transl ated
emended in accordance with Agamben's I tal ian version.
9. Morante, L'isola di Arturo, P: 7; Arturo's Island, P: v (transl ation
emended).
10. See, for exampl e, Gugl iel mo Gorni, " Parodia e scrittura in Dante,"
in Giovanni Barbian (ed.), Dante e la Bibbia (Fl orence: Ol schki, 1988), pp.
323- 40.
C HAPTER THREE: J UDGMENT DAY
1. Wal ter Benjamin, " [ul icn Green," Selected Writin8s, Volume 2,
1927- 1934, ed. Michael W. jennings. Howard Eil and, and Gary Smith, trans.
Rodney Livingstone (C ambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999), P:
333.
2. Wal ter Benjamin, " Littl e History of Photography." Selected Writings,
Volume 2, p. 510.
I I . See El sa Morante, I-listoty: I I NOI'el, trans. Wil l iam Weaver (New
York: Knopf, 1977), and Pier Paol o Pasol ini, SaID, or The 120 Days of Sodom
(1975).
12. El sa Morante, " Al ia favel a," Alibi (Turin: Einaudi, 2004).
13. Morante, L'isoia di Arturo, P: 379; Jlrturo's Island, p. 372 (transl ation
emended).
C HAPTER FI VE: PARODY
1. El sa Morante, L'isola di Jlrturo (Turin: Einaudi, 1957), P: 316, trans-
l ated as Arturo's Island by I sabel Quigl y (New York: Knopf, 1959), P: 308
(this transl ation gives Parodic as " Grotesque" in this passage).
C HAPTER EI GHT: THE AUTHOR AS GESTURE
I . Michel Foucaul t, " What I san Author?" inAesthetics, Method and Epis-
temol08.Y' ed. J ames D. Faubion, trans. Robert HurJ ey (New York: New Press,
1998), pp. 205- 22.
2. Samuel Beckett, " Texts for Nothing," The Complete Short Prose, 1929-
1989, ed. S.E. Gontarski (New York: Grove Press, 1995), p. 109.
PROFANATI ONS NOTES
3. Foucaul t, " What I san Author?" p. 207.
4. Ibid., P: 211 (transl ation emended).
5. tu, p. 217.
6. Michel Foucaul t, " Foucaul t," ilesthel:ics, Method and Epistemoloay, P:
462. This isan encycl opedia articl e that Foucaul t wrote in the third person
about himsel f - TRANS.
7. Michel Foucaul t, Dits et ecrits, 1954-1988, Volume I (Paris: Gal l imard,
1994), p. 817.
8. Michel Foucaul t, " Lives of I nfamous Men," Power, ed. J ames D.
Faubion, trans. Robert Hurl ey (New York: New Press, 2000).
9. The ambiguity of this French worcl (intcrpol ated both by Agamben
and by Foucaul t's Engl ish transl ator) isexpl ained bel ow - TRANS.
10. Foucaul t, " Lives of I nfamous Men," p. 160(transl ation emended).
11. Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot, trans. Al an Myers (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1992), pp. 143- 86.
12. " Father dust who rises from Spain." C esar Val l ejo, The Complete Post-
humous Poetry, trans. C l ayton Eshl eman and J ose Rubia Barcia (Berkel ey:
University of C al ifornia Press, 1978), p. 262.
6. iu. pp. 288- 89 (transl ated emended).
7. lbid., p. 289 (transl ated emended).
8. Ibid.
9. tbid., p. 289.
10. J ohn XXI I , Ad Conditorem Canonum (1322), in Corpus luris Canonici,
cd. Emil Ludwig Richter and Emil Friedberg (Leipzig: Bernhard Tauchnitz,
1881), vol . 2, pp. 1227- 28.
11. I tal o C al vi no, " l l inguaggi del sogno" C onference, Fondazione C ini,
Venice, Aug. 20- Sept. 18, 1982.
12. Luis Bufiucl , LeJantome de 10 liberte (1974) .
13. Wal ter Benjamin, " Eduard Fuchs: C ol l ector and Historian," Selected
Writinas, Volume 3, 1935-1938, ed. Howard Eil and and Michael W J ennings,
trans. Edmond J cphcott (C ambridge, MA: Bel knap Press, 2002), p. 300, n.
71.
C HAPTEI <- NI NE: I N PRAI SE 0[' PROI 'ANATI ON
I . J ustinian, DiaestCl 11. 7.
2. Henri Hubert and Marcel Mauss, SacrifIce: Its Nature and Function,
trans. WO. Hal l s (C hicago: University of C hicago Press, 1964).
3. Emil e Benveniste, " Lejeu cornmc structure," Deucalion 2(1947), P: 165.
4. Wal ter Benjamin, " Franz Kafka," Selected Writinns, Volume 2, 1927-
1934, ed. Michael W. J ennings, Howard Eil and, and Gary Smith (C ambridge,
MA: Bel knap Press, 1999), p. 815.
5. Wal ter Benjamin, " C apital ism as Rel igion," Selected Writinas, Volume
1, 1913-1926, ed. Marcus Bul l ock and Michael W J ennings (C ambridge, MA:
Bel knap Press, 1999), P: 288. Transl ated emended inaccordance with Agam.
beri's l tal ian version - TRANS.
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