DOMINIQUE JANICAUD’S HEIDEGGER in France is a major work of breathtaking historical scope, a unique intellectual undertaking reconstituting in two volumes the history of the French reception of Heidegger, from its earliest stages in the late 1920s until 2000.1 One “certainty” guided Dominique Janicaud in this enterprise, that of “the omnipresence in France of the influence, direct or indirect, of Heidegger’s thought and work. Apart from the mathematical sciences and life and earth sciences, there is hardly one sector of knowledge or intellectual activity that has not been positively or negatively affected by that thought” (HF, 301). Volume 1 is a narrative on Heidegger’s influence on twentieth-century philosophy in France; volume 2 is composed of interviews of leading philosophers and Heidegger scholars working in France, including Françoise Dastur, Jacques Derrida, Éliane Escoubas, Jean Greisch, Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, Jean-Luc Marion, and Jean-Luc Nancy, each offering an account of their own relation to Heidegger. These interviews provide a unique perspective on the impact that Heidegger’s thought has had on contemporary French thought, shedding light on their intellectual itinerary. This English edition includes the entirety of volume 1 and seven of the interviews from volume 2, which have been selected by the translators. This intellectual history of the French reception of Heidegger’s work also amounts to a history of twentieth-century French philosophy itself, since, as Janicaud shows throughout, contemporary French philosophy has to a large extent constituted itself on the basis of a dialogue with Heidegger’s thought, whether embracing it, rejecting it, or misunderstanding it! Jacques Derrida, for instance, explains in his interview with Janicaud that Heidegger is a kind of contremaître for him (literally, a counter-master, but the French term has the colloquial sense of a work supervisor, or overseer, someone in a position of authority who watches over someone else, often disapprovingly2). Derrida plays here as well on the sense of being against, as in “going against” the master: “When I say: ‘counter to Heidegger’s order’ (Counterpath, 56), it is because he haunts me, in Counterpath as in The Post Card, he is always there, watching me and reproaching me for something” (HF, 355). This description of Derrida’s relation to Heidegger might serve as an accurate illustration of Heidegger’s place in French philosophy: a master with whom and against whom one thinks.
Janicaud writes that at first he “had not envisioned a second part completely devoted to interviews with the personalities, translators, and/or interpreters who have been significant actors or witnesses in the reception of Heideggerian thought in France” (HF, 12). However, he then adds that the development of the work itself “obliged us to call on these witnesses” (ibid.). The interviews, in turn, further enriched Janicaud’s project as they provide a source of unique personal reflections on the reception of Heidegger in France. Françoise Dastur, for example, recalls in her interview her early studies on Heidegger in 1962. She remembers encountering Heidegger’s work during her second year at the Sorbonne, in courses with Ricoeur and Derrida. Ricoeur advised her to work on Unterwegs zur Sprache, and to study Heidegger. Dastur subsequently traveled in 1963 to Freiburg, where her “genuine” introduction to Heidegger took place. Then, in the early 1970s, Dastur participated in seminars with Fédier and Beaufret. Having become fluent in German, Dastur “rarely used French translations,” and read Pöggeler, Biemel, and von Herrmann. In time, her own works, such as Heidegger and the Question of Time,3 would emerge as a major resource in the French reception of Heidegger. Jean Greisch, in his interview, recalls that his first encounter with Heidegger’s questioning “was connected to my studies in fundamental theology in 1965–1966 in Innsbruck, in the shadow of Karl Rahner” (HF, 371). When he arrived in Paris to pursue his philosophical studies, Greisch was also influenced by Paul Ricoeur. He attended his lectures at the C.N.R.S., beginning in 1972. Greisch recalls that he was “fascinated by Jean Beaufret, whom I met in the context of the discussions at Saint-Jacques du Haut-Pas, which were moderated by Odette Laffoucrière” (HF, 372). Due to the fact that he was from Luxembourg and taught at a Catholic institution in Paris (“which, because of a strange state restriction, is not allowed to call itself a ‘university’”), Greisch remarks on his “feeling of being a rare bird,” who could therefore “feel free to think whatever he wants, without any obligation to the academic authorities” (HF, 375). Greisch’s inventive approach led him to pioneer studies related to Heidegger’s Beiträge, Besinnung, and Geschichte des Seins, particularly in an essay with the “deliberately provocative title of ‘The Poverty of the Last God.’”4 In addition, Greisch translated volume 60 of the Gesamtausgabe: The Phenomenology of Religious Life. Additional interviews with Jacques Derrida, Éliane Escoubas, Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, Jean-Luc Marion, and Jean-Luc Nancy reveal similar accounts of first encounters with Heidegger’s work, subsequent inspirations, and deep engagements, as well as lasting contributions to the living reception of Heidegger’s thought in France. For his part, Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, in his interview, reflects on his earliest readings of Heidegger. He was captivated from the outset by Heidegger’s references to Hölderlin. He states, “Soon I became a Heideggerian.” In fact, he adds, “Soon Heidegger became the only philosopher that I understood” (HF, 384). Lacoue-Labarthe says that after the publication of Heidegger’s Nietzsche in 1961, “I never stopped reading Heidegger, whatever the rest of my reading in the tradition of German idealism happened to be, or when I read Benjamin or Lukacs, etc. In any case, I continued to be attached to something fundamental in Heidegger’s thought” (HF, 385). Lacoue-Labarthe concludes his interview with a poignant note about collecting Heidegger’s books after his death, books that were to be donated to the library at the Strasbourg Philosophy Institute. On the night table, among the books that had been set aside, “there were books by Hölderlin, Goethe, and the Suhrkamp collection of Celan’s poems.” Another book on the night table included a dedication from Jacques Lacan (HF, 392).
Dominique Janicaud’s Heidegger in France reconstitutes, both through synthetic analyses and in minute details, the way in which Heidegger has had a major influence—in a striking and unique way—on twentieth-century French philosophy, and in particular on such thinkers as Sartre, Merleau-Ponty, Levinas, Derrida, Lacan, Foucault, and Althusser, as well as Blanchot and Ricoeur, among others. Such an enterprise is an invaluable contribution to the discussions and debates regarding Heidegger’s place in contemporary philosophy. In fact, as Janicaud notes in the opening pages of the volume: “Despite the abundance of translations, interpretations, and polemical interventions, no one has ever attempted to write in French the complete history of the singularly turbulent and unexpectedly fruitful reception of what is quite possibly the most original thought of the twentieth century” (HF, 13). The tone of this narration, consistently balanced and measured, combined with impeccable scholarship and documentation, is also very refreshing. Polemical works have their place and necessity, but they must yield to the serious work of the intellectual historian, a role that Janicaud deliberately assumes in this opus magnum. The result is a welcome departure from the intellectual terrorism that has so often affected research, a brilliant synthesis of seventy years of French philosophy that is written in a lucid and jargon-free prose.
The principal qualities of this work are first and foremost its fairness, its constant attempt at being equitable, and its effort to achieve some level of objectivity, as much as this is possible:5 Janicaud never tries to “settle accounts”; his reading is instead one of a “generous” or “benevolent” neutrality. It also comes as close as possible to an exhaustive account, combining an intimate knowledge of the history (as attested by the more personal, autobiographical “epilogues” inserted between the main chapters) with a keen understanding of the various philosophical positions and interpretations, as well as the subtext of the history of the conflicts and interactions between the protagonists. As Janicaud explains in his introduction, it is a matter of restituting the threads of both the grand and “anecdotal” history, knitting together, as it were, Geschichte and Historie (cf. HF, 13). In its attention to detail, its investigative flavor, and inquisitiveness, the book reads at times like a veritable spy novel. Janicaud displays an impressive mastery of the material in question, including facts, texts, and commentaries, as well as of the underlying philosophical assumptions. The major stages of that history are revisited, from Levinas’s first commentaries on Heidegger’s early works (Levinas was the one who first introduced Heidegger in France); to Sartre’s magisterial (mis)appropriation of the key moments and vocabulary of Being and Time in Being and Nothingness; to the explosion of existentialism after the war and the famed “Letter on Humanism” addressed to Jean Beaufret, a key figure in the French reception of Heidegger; to Heidegger’s visit in France in the mid-fifties at the Cerisy meeting and his encounter with Lacan, as well as his lecture at Aix-en-Provence in 1958; to the sixties and the seminars held in France, in Provence at the Thor, near the house of René Char; to the debates in the eighties regarding the translation of Being and Time, which took sixty years to be completed after many vicissitudes; and, last but not least, to the cyclical reappearance on the French intellectual scene, from the thirties (but especially since 1947 through articles in Les Temps Modernes) to Victor Farias’s infamous 1987 book, of heated debates regarding Heidegger’s relation to National Socialism. Janicaud has already written an important book on Heidegger and politics,6 and he revisits the issue in this book through an informed discussion of each and every one of its known aspects. Throughout these episodes, Janicaud discusses at length another integral and crucial part of the reception of Heidegger in France, namely, the question of the French translation of Heidegger’s language and vocabulary, which also had (and still has) its own complicated history. In all of these cases, Janicaud provides the most informed and complete account to date, one that is destined to set a new standard and become a reference for future discussions.
Janicaud observes that the French “reception” of Heidegger has been everything but passive; in fact, it has given rise to all kinds of interpretations, appropriations, or misappropriations, not to mention misunderstandings, even if these were brilliant and inventive, as in the case of Sartre. Janicaud recounts that Heidegger, hearing of this polymorphous transformation or re-creation of his thought, exclaimed: “My God, I did not want this!” (HF, 427n5).7 Much of Janicaud’s book is a reconstruction of the successive stages of the reception of Heidegger’s work, following a chronological order that began in the late twenties and early thirties. Heidegger in France comprises an introduction, twelve chapters, and a conclusion. The chapters unfold the story of Heidegger’s reception in France in easily digestible parts. The transition through the years is accessible for the reader because it is organized in terms of the key figures (e.g., Levinas, Sartre, Beaufret, and Derrida) who dominated each phase—phases spanning one or more decades and in some cases overlapping. Each of these figures, in turn, passed the role of interlocutor and interpreter on to the next person in the next phase. There are seven inserted “Epilogues,” or more personal accounts, which were added by Janicaud to the general narrative. These epilogues recount, in a more subjective tone, Janicaud’s personal involvement in that history, and they shed an interesting light on the preceding chapters, providing a welcomed and necessary pause in a long text. One can nevertheless distinguish the following main stages in that narrative, beginning with the first introduction of Heidegger in France by Emmanuel Levinas.
Indeed, it was none other than Levinas who introduced Heidegger to France, and who played since the early thirties “an important role in the diffusion and explanation of Heidegger’s thought” (HF, 19). Levinas held Heidegger in the highest esteem, ranking him among the great philosophers of the tradition: “I knew right away that this was one of the greatest philosophers in history. Like Plato, like Kant, like Hegel, like Bergson” (HF, 19). Levinas, moreover, shared his enthusiasm with Blanchot, and Blanchot credited Levinas for helping him understand Heidegger. In these early years, it is interesting to note that Heidegger was read not as an existential atheist, but rather as a deeply spiritual thinker. Indeed, Heidegger’s first French translator, Henri Corbin, pursued research in Persian spirituality.
Levinas—although certainly other figures of note read Heidegger in the ’30s, including Gurvitch, Koyré, Wahl, Corbin, and Aron (HF, 31)—was followed, in the next phase, by Sartre. Sartre, in the ’40s, championed Heidegger and appropriated his thought in a highly “inventive,” although ultimately misguided, way. Janicaud points out how extensively Sartre’s Being and Nothingness drew from Being and Time, and notes, “A systematic index would reveal that Heidegger is omnipresent in Being and Nothingness” (HF, 37). Ultimately, Sartre’s existentialism, conceived of as an essentially anthropological humanism and activism, was to be refuted by Heidegger in what Janicaud describes as the next phase of Heidegger’s reception in France. Yet, Janicaud concedes that the “Sartre effect,” or the “Sartre bomb,” was so powerful, in and of itself, that Being and Nothingness was a book “which became fetishized by existentialists” (HF, 48).
Jean-Paul Sartre was followed by Jean Beaufret, who was to be Heidegger’s host in France, as it were, as well as his main interlocutor for the next thirty years. Given Beaufret’s crucial and extended position in the reception of Heidegger in France, it is all the more striking that Beaufret continues to be virtually unknown in the United States. Yet Beaufret was the recipient of the seminal “Letter on Humanism,” in which Heidegger implied that he had been misread by Sartre. Beaufret came to Heidegger’s attention when Frédéric de Towarnicki gave Heidegger some of Beaufret’s articles (HF, 51). Heidegger was favorably disposed to the essay. Beaufret paid his first visit to Heidegger’s hut in September 1946, and so began their thirty years of philosophical friendship. The “Beaufret phase” included the Colloque at Cerisy in 1955 (Heidegger’s first visit to France), as well as the Thor Seminars in Provence in 1966, 1968, and 1969.
This thirty-year phase in which Beaufret played such a central role overlapped with Derrida’s reception and dissemination of Heidegger in the 1960s. As Derrida has acknowledged himself, Heidegger has been a central presence in his work, a kind of overseer, who “haunts” him, someone who, as Derrida says, “is always there, watching me and reproaching me for something” (HF, 355). Moreover, Derrida and his students Jean-Luc Nancy and Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe continued to explore in various ways and expand upon Heidegger’s thought until the end of the century. Many of Jean-Luc Nancy’s books and articles in the last twenty years on community draw explicitly from Heidegger’s analyses of being-with in Being and Time.
Janicaud’s book is particularly noteworthy for its comprehensive and balanced treatment of the debate in France that swirled around Heidegger’s affiliation with National Socialism and his rectorship at the University of Freiburg in 1933. Janicaud addresses several strands in this debate in a precise and measured way, including the work of Jean-Pierre Faye and Victor Farias, although the latter’s book from 1987 is judged harshly. Most importantly, however, the reader is free to pore over the copious details of these debates, which in and of themselves constitute a significant part of Heidegger’s reception.
Janicaud shows that in the ’90s, “Heidegger studies” in France revolved around the question of his “turn,” often referred to in terms of Heidegger I vs. Heidegger II, following William Richardson’s paradigm in his celebrated 1962 study, Heidegger: Through Phenomenology to Thought.8 This phase could be characterized as a time when, beyond the debate of the ’80s surrounding Farias’s book, Heidegger’s thought was considered as a whole and the work rather than the man became the topic of study.
In a veritable tour de force, Heidegger en France extensively and exhaustively treats, then, in a constantly engaging style, nearly everything that has been written and said about Heidegger in France in the past seven decades. In any given instance, we receive information that provides a richly varied and layered context for the historical event or moment. In the case of Heidegger’s visit to France in 1955, we learn of its organization, the dialogues that took place, the meetings and interactions with historical figures (Lacan, Braque, and Char), as well as of Heidegger’s itinerary in Paris. It is fascinating, for example, to read of and imagine Heidegger’s visit to the Louvre, Versailles, and to Café de Flore, that haut-lieu of French existentialism.
The reason for Heidegger’s visit to France at that time, organized by Jean Beaufret, was the Colloque at Cerisy. Heidegger presented a paper on August 28, 1955, entitled “What Is Philosophy?,” and again we are drawn in by the narrative of the context. We learn of the style and the atmosphere of the seminar, his “exchange” with Paul Ricoeur, and we read of the key philosophical points under discussion. We learn, for example, of Heidegger’s announcement, at the seminar, to the surprise of those in attendance, that there was “no Heideggerian philosophy.” He characterized his thought, rather, as being engaged in a “dialogue with the tradition.”
As regards Heidegger’s visits to Provence in 1966, ’68, and ’69, we learn about the circumstances of his invitation (attributed to René Char), the person who proposed and organized the seminar (Jean Beaufret), and even the person who did the driving (François Fédier). True to his statement at Cerisy, Heidegger engaged in Le Thor in a dialogue with the Greeks (in particular Heraclitus and Parmenides), as well as with Kant, Hegel, and Husserl.9
This work will become the standard reference for the understanding of Heidegger’s reception in France, and will shed a unique light on contemporary French philosophy itself. In a glowing review of Heidegger en France for the January 2002 issue of the Times Literary Supplement (TLS), Georges Steiner wrote that Janicaud’s book is an “intellectual history of the first rank.” The aim of objectivity that guides this work is remarkable, and Janicaud’s appeal to fairness and impartiality is also important in the face of so many agenda-driven works: he thus explains that “duty demands that we do all we can to avoid making this work narrow and partisan” (HF, 12). Objectivity may not be the ultimate horizon for matters of thought, yet it becomes indispensable in order to engage the work of interpretation of a thought that is always struggling with its Sache. It is that struggle which is really at stake in all the discussions on Heidegger, and ultimately it is that essential polemos that allows one to understand the accidental and conflictual history of the French reception of Heidegger in the last seventy years. In the end, this brilliant history will open onto the work of thinking, and it is Dominique Janicaud’s extraordinary merit and impressive achievement to have first presented that history, and opened it for further thinking.
David Pettigrew and François Raffoul