Hey – yeah, you there. Did you know that the lover’s discourse is today of an extreme solitude? (1) * Oh, you weren’t aware?
Well, maybe you already knew that the whole time you were sitting, alone, at the bar, expecting your date to walk in any minute, you were in fact singing a syntactical aria. (6) No? You weren’t informed? Oh, well, have I got news for you. You weren’t actually furious at all. No, that was the syntactical fury belonging to a figure called Waiting. It felt like extreme anger and insecurity and sadness, but it was most definitely syntax.
Feel better? No?
It’s not so bad, because these bundles of sentences (7) eating your brain, have absolutely no horizontal order and have been thrown together at random. So, there’s that.
Novel? No, of course you aren’t writing the novel of your life! Ha! No, there’s no transcendence and no deliverance either.
Oh, you were expecting a great romance? I’m so sorry.
Well, cheer up! All these horrifically painful moments (combined, of course, with the fantastically beautiful ones) are episodes endowed with meaning!
No really, this is good. This is the love story.
Your love story? No, no, I’m talking about the love story subjugated to the great narrative Other.
What do you mean it’s got nothing to do with you? It’s got everything to do with you! In fact, you’re the only one it’s got anything to do with!
You’re right, that doesn’t sound too good.
Ahem…um… Is this seat taken?
*Did you say Barthes? Page numbers taken from the 1990 Howard translation of A Lover’s Discourse.