Shatz, Adam. “Desire Was Everywhere.” The London Review of Books. 16 December 2010. 9-12. Review of: Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari: Intersecting Lives by François Dosse, translated by Deborah Glassman. Columbia, 651 pp. August 2010.
http://www.lrb.co.uk/v32/n24/adam-shatz/desire-was-everywhere
More and more I’m working through “A Thousand Plateaus,” reading it as a guide to DIY theory. The paragraph quoted below, form Adam Shatz in the December 2010 London Review of Books, has haunted me since first reading. It suggests an interesting view of how Deleuze and Guattari saw “A Thousand Plateaus” — I have finally ordered Dosse’s book but will continue to relay on this paragraph for a bit longer until it arrives. What I am thinking is that the free reading of American culture, the exuberance of pronouncement, the ‘hallucinatory experiences,’ its manifesto-like qualities, and in general its trippy nature (and trippy use of nature) situates it in a position ripe for hypertexting, overwriting, or more appealingly, as an open source thinking template — (clearly, not in the sense of publication rights.) I think the book, with a 2011 trippy bioscience/technology overlay ask for its embedded theory to be cognitively extended ☺. . . and I’m finding some good grafting candidates in neocyborgian work . . .
“Deleuze and Guattari had long envied American writers like Henry Miller and Allen Ginsberg, with their ‘gift for intensities, flows, machine-books, tool-books, schizo-books’: now it seemed as if the desiring revolution’s future was in America. ‘Everything important that has happened or is happening takes the route of the American rhizome: the beatniks, the underground, bands and gangs,’ they announced in A Thousand Plateaus, which appeared in 1980. An even stranger (and longer) work than Anti-Oedipus, A Thousand Plateaus was a chaotic bricolage of anthropology, fractal geometry, music theory, psychoanalysis, literature, art history, physics and military history. It emerged, they said, from ‘hallucinatory experiences’ and read as if it had been written under the influence. They had signed their names, they said, ‘only out of habit’: ‘Since each of us was several, there was already quite a crowd.’ Their celebration of ‘multiplicity’ generated a barrage of new concepts: rhizomes, war machines, striated and smooth space, nomadology, planes of immanence, faciality. Yet the book was recognisably a continuation of Anti-Oedipus, a hymn to the micro-political weapons of the weak, the ‘lines of flight’ and ‘nomadic’ resistance practised by subjugated groups in their struggles with state power. Once again they criticised psychoanalysis for reducing desire to the ‘family tree’ (the arborescent model), praising the rhizome’s ‘liberation of sexuality not only from reproduction but also from genitality’. Passages of fearsome theoretical density were punctuated with trippy slogans: ‘Make rhizomes, not roots, never plant! Don’t sow, grow offshoots! Don’t be one or multiple, be multiplicities!’”