In 1926: living at the edge of time - Monoskop

AUTHENTICITY VS. ARTIFICIALITY 265
ual tendency toward reflexivity: "Let us say, then, that inside us there is
what we call peace. Don't you think so? And do you know what it comes
from? From the simple fact that we have just left the city-that is, left a
constructed world: houses, streets, churches, squares. Yet constructed
not only in this sense, but also in the sense that no one lives there
anymore just for the sake of living, like these plants, without knowing
what living is. In fact, they live for something that doesn't exist and that
we ourselves put into life-for something that gives meaning and value
to life: a meaning, a value, that here, at least in part, you manage to lose,
or at least whose worrisome vanity you recognize" (Pirandello, 49). In
contrast, Artificiality-a sphere that no longer counts on an underlying
meaning-makes the distinction and the complementary relation between
surface and depth obsolete. Surface no longer equals the materiality
of expression, and depth no longer equals the spirituality of meaning.
Artificiality opens up the possibility of perceiving things-and even
persons-as either purely spiritual or purely material. Thus, the hero of
Marcel Jouhandeau's Monsieur Codeau Intime divides his time between
Veronique, a woman who is pure intellect and will, and Rose, who "had
the freshness, the health, and at the same time the fragility of a wild rose,
of eglantine. She was only a delicious body, without a soul perhaps, a
woman of Mohammed" (22). In the end, Veronique's formidable spirituality
succeeds in dominating matter, and also Godeau. It is her existential
triumph to assume care of Godeau who, stricken by a terrible
disease, indeed decays into sheer-repulsive-matter: "Veronique saw
M. Godeau crumble away little by little before her eyes, but she did not
turn pale with disgust ... She herself was still dressed in an ivory antiseptic
shield, her hair hidden under a turban. Clean and shining, a
diamond statue, she touched the pus as if it were water ... Soon, there
was nothing left of M. Godeau but his torso, and the stumps of his legs
and arms. A sort of head without eyes, nose, or lips topped this torso,
broken by a wild, toothless mouth which, with its tongue barely attached
by a thread of blood, stammered at the twilight, lying exposed on the
knees of Veronique" (424-425). Such views of the human body as
pure-and in this case stinking-matter inspire and legitimize popular
initiatives in favor of cremation. On the other hand, since bodies that
are only matter no longer require interpretation or spiritual penetration,
they can be joined and experienced on a level of pure sensual perception.
[see Dancing, Reporters, Revues] But such sensual perception is often