Customer Reviews

Crack Wars: Literature, Addiction, Mania (Texts and Contexts)

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Ronell's book is a tour-de-force on many levels: for its lucid and startling close-reading of -Madame Bovary-, for the densely glittering energy (and humor) of her prose, and above all for its insight -- never before so comprehensively and convincingly argued -- into addiction as a symptomatic structure of the modern condition. (The addict, she points out, embodies a peculiar challenge for thinking about the inside/outside, mind/body relation. Emma Bovary takes us farther into questions of expenditure and circulation.) This is a must-read not only for those interested in Flaubert's novel, but in the history of subjectivity more generally. Even in its craziest moments, the book is provocative and perceptive.

One of the finest works of "critifiction" written, Ronell mixes atobiography, fictional biography (set in the future), literary crit, philosophy, cultural studies, and political commentary rolled into one. Her most accessible book, if you found The Telephone Book or Stupidity too involved in jargon and theory.

Just when you thought literary crit. was doomed to its staid exsistence, Ronell arrives on the scene. A critic (whose name escapes me) once said that while we can pick up a book, books can throw us across the room. I'm still recovering from the flight and trip this little book sent me on...

Avital Ronell examines drugs addiction & mania in this amazingly well written and concisely beautiful book. A book-as-object, containing installations, special sections and poetic-philosophic passages, Crack Wars is sure to please the patient reader. Draws from Flaubert, Heidegger and Derrida...contends that this "culture inspires and supports destructive play only to punish it." A must read!

This book is revolutionary. If you've ever wondered what an artist (Avital Ronnell is a former performance artist) might be capable of coming up with if they became an academic (a professor) but were still devoted to the idea of performance, this is the answer. Think Kitaj and how his paintings is a form of interpretation of other artists' work in referencing them in the theme of his own work. In other words, Avital Ronnel's "Crack Wars" and its "analysis" of Madame Bovary is possible because it is from a field of study that is unique in that it is devoted to the study of an artform (literary arts) while itself operating in the same medium as that artform (words). The creativity exhibited in "Crack Wars", which is its most powerful proposition, shows that an interpretive "analysis" can be offered on a work of art ("Madame Bovery") without even wanting to answer the question, "What does is mean?". Much of the creative thrust seems to come from the way in which Ronnell re-metaphorizes certain elements or metaphors related to (current) drug use and applies them in the exploration of other facets of society that alters or simulates (ex. taking a "hit" or "scoring" of literature). What this does is to expand the reading of "Madame Bovery" to a whole crop of metaphors and their current exploration whose consideration in language may not have been in circulation at the time of its writing. And though this work may be on the edge of "literary studies", Ronnell is by no means a marginal figure. As head of NYU's dept of Germanic Languages, Ronnell co-lectured a graduate seminar last fall with Derrida (she is in the "Derrida" documentary with multi-colored bobby-pins relaying an interaction with Derrida's mother). Consider the language of the extensive quote below.

"Madame Bovary I daresay is about bad drugs. Equally, it is about thinking we have properly understood them. But if the novel matches its reputation for rendering its epoch- our modernity - intelligible, then we would do well to recall that epoch also means interruption, arrest, suspension and, above all, suspension of judgement. Madame Bovary travels the razor's edge of understanding/reading protocols. In this context understanding is given as something that happens when you are no longer reading. It is not the open-ended Nietzschean echo, "Have I been understood?" but rather the "I understand" that means you have suspended judgement over a chasm of the real. Out of this collapse of judgement no genuine decision can be allowed to emerge. Madame Bovary understood too much; she understood what things were supposed to be like and suffered a series of ethical injuries for this certitude. Her understanding made her legislate closure at every step of the way. She was her own police force, finally turning herself in to the authorities. She understood when the time had come to an end [...] for Madame Bovary opens herself to an altogether different history of intelligibility, in fact, to another suicide pact, cosigned by a world that longer limits its rotting to a singular locality of the unjust."