Henri Lefebvre: A Critical Introduction - autonomous learning

H e n r i L e F e b v r e
knows not only his real self but also his real relations with fellow
human beings. Imagine the limit to infinity, Lefebvre urges
us, a blurry figure on a distant horizon, beyond our present purview,
perhaps beyond anything we’ve yet imagined. Here is a man
and a woman separating who we are from what we might be. The
total man represents a goal, an ideal, a possibility, not a historical
fact; it may never become an actual fact. It comes, if it comes,
without guarantees, giving “direction to our view of the future,
to our activities and our consciousness.” 1 It symbolizes a route
open to active human practice, to thought and struggle, to striving
and praxis “subjectively” overcoming “objective” conditions
in the world. Nothing is assured or definitive, predestined or certain;
the totality of the total man is an “open totality.” The total
man shouldn’t be confused with the happy, smiling “new man”
depicted in Socialist-Realist art, toiling for the state, somebody
who’s suddenly burst forth into history, complete and ready-made
like a TV dinner, “in possession of all hitherto incompatible qualities
of vitality and lucidity, of humble determination in labor and
limitless enthusiasm in creation.” 2
The total person is “all Nature,” says Lefebvre; everything
lies within the grasp of this supercharacter, within this superman
and superwoman who contain “all energies of matter and of
life,” as well as the whole past and future of the world. They’re the
conscience of a world gone haywire, intent on destroying itself,
cannibalizing itself. Science has split the atom, propelled us to
the moon, pioneered genetic engineering—and yet, we insist on
truncating ourselves, impoverishing ourselves, exploiting one and
another, warring and wasting vital powers, a life force hell-bent on
death and annihilation. The total man approaches us from ahead,
as our nemesis, looking back over his shoulder, justifiably wary
and even a little incredulous. Can we raise our heads and look him
in the eye? Do we have the courage to commune with him across
the abyss? Lefebvre hopes we can. “Even today, at a time when our
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