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AN  OPEN  LETTRE  TO  PETER  HALLWARD   P.Hallward@mdx.ac.uk   Paris,  Feb.

 26th  2013   Dear  Peter  Hallward,       Thanks  you  for  sending  me  your  two  beautifully-­‐edited  volumes  on  Cahiers  pour  l’Analyse.             I  received  them  as  I  was  deeply  invoved  in  a  public-­‐opinion  campaign,  trying  to  free  an   Nevertheless,  I  did  manage  to  read  Volume  II  bit  by  bit.  I  finished  it  2  days  ago.  I  smiled  a   I   could   have   clarified   some   minor   episodes.    The   quarrel   about   “Causalité   métonymique”   Sometimes,  it  looks  like  I  am  dead,  and  everyone  may  say  what  he  wants  of  my  poor  dead   Iranian  collegue,  Dr  Mitra  Kadivar,    interned  in  a  psychiatric  hospital  in  Tehran.     lot.  Then  less.     is    passionately  discussed  half  a  century  later.  And  “Suture”.  Amazing  !       self,  defenseless  as  he  lays  down  ad  dead  as  a  dead  mouse  (un  rat  mort).  But  I  am  not  with  my   body.  «  On   entre   dans   un   mort   comme   dans   un   moulin  »,   famously   said   Sartre   in   his   Flaubert.  Reading   Volume   II,   I   felt   I   was   this   mill.   Don’t   forget,   dear   Peter,   my   name   is   Miller.   Mills  and  winds  were  always  important  to  me.  A  wind  deity  by  Albrecht  Dürer  is  the  symbol  I   gave  to  the  World  Association  of  Psychoanalysis.  If  I  tell  you  on  the  spot  from  where  it  comes   from,   and   nobody   can,   you’ll   know   I   choose   it,   and   nobody   else.     It   is   Africanus,   from   the   Weltkarte    of  Johannes  Stabius,  the  Austrian  humanist  and  catographer  Durer  illustrated.  See  ?     Same  thing  with  «  Causalté  métonymique  ».  No,  it  was  not  common  knowledge  among  us,   it   wasn’t   collective   invention,   and   delirious   appropriation   by   a   vain   young   guy.   As   that   time,   preparing   for   the   agrégation   of   philosophy,   I   lived   in   the   countryside,   in   a   village   named   Clairefontaine,   near   Rambouillet,   immersed   in   my   philosophy   books,   and   learning   Greek.   My   father  had  wanted  me  to  learn  Spanish  beside  English,  instead  of  Greek  (in  the  French  system  at   that  time,  you  couldn’t  learn  Greek  if  you  learned  Latin  and  two  living  languages).  I  had  desisted   from   being   part   of   Lire   le   Capital,   for   various   reasons,   one   of   them   being   I   intended   to   concentrate   on   preparing   agrégation,   which   the   others   had   passed   already,   my   being   the   youngest  of  the  lot  by  three  years  or  more.       So   that   year,   I   saw   precious   little   of   my   friends.   I   went   to   Paris   once   in   a   week,   on   Wednesday,   to   attend   Lacan’s   Seminaire   and   Derrida’s   preparation   for   agreg,   and   to   fuck   my   young  mistress  –  that  very  same  girl  Althusser  speaks  about  the  one  time  he  came  to  visit  me  

  Timeo  Danaos  et  dona   ferentes.   Laissez   les   morts   enterrer   les   morts.  the  episode  is  still   incredibly   hot.  He  took  seriously  what  I  told  him  in  jest   of   this   very   beautiful   child   who   was   picking   flowers   in   the   garden  :   «  She   invents   a   concept   a   day.  12.   You   make   it   so   with   Vomlume   II.  and  nearly  «  traînant  tous  les   cours  après  soi  ».   I   didn’t   want   to   confess   publicly   in   Middlesex   and   tell   my   story.    It   doen’t   befit   an   analyst.  I  never  told  the  whole  story  publicly  at  the  time.  Badiou  wasn’t.   Will   the   main   culpit   stands   from   among   my   friends.   Next-­‐year-­‐generation.  «  And  since  when  are  you  like  that.   Your   sister     told   me   you   hate   me   since   I   married   Judith   a   year   later.   I   didn’t   even   bother   to   turn   you   away.  »         No.  Some  of  us  were  monks.   but   one   of   the   future.   He   was   sheer   mad.  ».   at   that   time.   because   they   didn’t   know   .   Pourquoi   rappeler   à   la   vie   ces   ombres  poudreuses.  with  poor.   but   remained   a   playful   normalien   enjoying  «  canulars  ».  I  was  a  pig.  when  I  see  him  misrepresented.   dear   A*.       I   still   love   you.that  year  in  Clairefontaine.  slim  and  slender.  and  tell  the  story  ?  Or  must  I  do  it  myself  ?     I   remember   very   well   you   invited   me   repeatedly   to   answer   your   questions   and   you   invited   me   to   your   Colloquium.   But   nevertheles   it   wasn’t   a   theft  either.  as  she  was  pregnant  with  Eve.  Our  existentialist  predecesors  were  less  prude.     There   is   very   lettle   sex   in   your   interviews   with   the   normaliens’bunch.  Most   of   the   time.   everyone   admitted   my   claim.   Then  I  married  when  I  was  22  years  old  –  Nov.  as  a  preparation  for  praticing  psychoanalysis.  lots  of  hair.  you  haad  to  remain  single  and  childless.  I  just  felt  that.  I  still  remember  the  red  stain   in  my  bed  rue  d’Ulm.  in  order  to  be  a  serious  thinker.  1966  -­‐  and  was  a  father  at  23  –  May  29th   1967.  Fifty  years  later.    I   feared   the   coming   of   History.  So  disappointed  he  was  when  I  told  him  I   loved  girls.  unhappy  Hélène.   L’Avenir   dure   longtemps.  moi  à  20  ans.   neither  I.   as   shows   his   comment   of   this   sentence   in   his   book.   my   old   friends   of   50   years   ago   do   it   because   of   ignorance.  she  announced  us  to  Lacan  saying  :   «  The  two  fags  (pédés)  are  here.  in  haste.  But  I  cannot  turn  my  back  on  young  Miller  either.  You  are  my  remorse.     If   at   the   time   Althusser   wrote   a   special   aknowlegment   concerning   «  causalité   métonymique  »  at  the  very  beginning  of  Lire  le  Capital  –  that  piece  disappeared  in  subsequent   editions   -­‐   it   is   because.  Jacques-­‐Alain  ?  »  Gloria  told  me  the  first  time  I   went  to  rue  de  Lille  with  one  of  my  best  friends  from  Ulm.  Roland  Barthes  was  in  love  with  me.   Let   us   make   it   hotter.   I   felt   I   wasn’t   one   of   the   past.   And   that’s   why   I   never   grew   into   a   serious   thonker.

  25th.   we   shall   see.  “la  flèche  du  Parthe”  .   when   Badiou   hated   Milner   and   Milner   hated   Badiou.   I   gave   him   a   photocopy   of   his   and   Badiou’s   interviews.  I   tryed  to  be  the  link  between  them.  I  shall  not  tolerate.     contribute  to  a  small  book  on  Lacan  I  wanted  to  publish.  Badiou  !  You  won’t  escape  my  grip.  They  just  seekeed  power.  This  is  going  to  be  the  crucial  test  of  Badiou’s  life  and  deeds  and  misdeeds.  in  spite  of  themselves.   Badiou.  and  I'm  not  going  to  take  this  anymore.   whose   interview   closes   the   second   volume   counts   me   among   You   find   the   word   in   the   first   line   of   the   very   last   page   of   Volume   II.how  the  trick  was  done.  Badiou  -­‐  and  Zizek.  the  “point  de  capiton”  of  the  whole  enterprise.     shall  test.   290.  Milner  said  yes.   «  Tose  people  »  (ces  gens)  were  dishonest.    This.   Eric   Hazan.  »             Good  day.   «  I'm  as  mad  as  hell.  My  intellectual  grip.  my   ex-­‐analysand  -­‐  said  no.  A  few  times  only  there  is  malice.  I   won’t  take  it  no  more.   to   speak   of   me   and   my   family   –   Gérard   is   the   only   family   I   have   from  infant  time-­‐  in  those  terms  ?  Do  words  mean  anything  to  you  ?  I  remeber  you  saying  once  :   .             My   good   friend   Badiou.   This.  Badiou  reproached  me  with  trying  to  be  «  l’ami  de  tout  le  monde  ».     parting  shot.  JAM  and  his  brother  Gérard  are  Rastignac.         Who   are   you.  Bas  les  masques  !  Drop   Yesterday   afternoon.  Plus   another   photocopy   of   another   interview   Badiou   gave   to   a   French   author.   your   Honour   !”  Is   there   honour   in   Alain   Badiou   ?    This.  It’s   the   “I   object.  «  the mad  prophet  of  the  airwaves  »  chants  in  Network.  No  more.   where   the  renegade  thing  shows   its  head  :  JAM  is  a  turncoat.  As  Peter  Finch.   p.   we   Some   years   ago.   I   asked   both   to   “renegades”.   Monday   Feb.  Etc.  I  feel  defiled  and  betrayed.  Yes.   as   Regnault   did   not   received   –   how   comes?   -­‐   the   the  pretence  !     2   books.  But  one  word  stands  out:  renegade.

«  I   write   as   I   brush   my   teeth.     networks.         This   is   going   to   be   an   intellectual   fight   to   the   death.   badiou.   That   was   a   true   statement.   Verso   could   publish   it   in   English.  Dear  Peter  Hallward.   you   need  teeth.           Are  you  still  interested  in  Cahiers  pour  l’Analyse  and  the  part  I  played  in  it  ?  If  the  answer   Yours  with  esteem  and  expectation.  »   I   was   so   impressed   at   the   time.   Either   you   recant.   Jacques-­‐Alain  Miller     is  yes.       .  I  do  it.  with  all  due  details.  as  we’re  both  intellectuals.   portuguese.  If   interested.  I’m  your  man.  This   book   would   have   spanish.  right  ?    Duel  is  an  old  aristocartic  tradition.   But   it   shows.   and   publish   it   in   French.  intellectually.   But   to   brush   your   teeth.  translations.  I  am  willing  to  sit  with  you  for  an  extended  interview  on  Cahiers   pour  l’Analyse.  Navarin/Le   Champ   freudien   éditeur   will   finance   our   meeting.   italian.  russian.  I  would   do  it.  If  I  could  send  you  my  witnesses.   through   Freudian   Field   record  straight  myself.   ot   I’ll   set   the   The   mail   I   sent   Regnault   yesternight   is   now   circling   the   Net.   it   shows   that   you   write   as   one’s   brush   his   teeth.