Writing that solicits writing. Writing that asks others to write. Barthes’ Incidents seems like that. Casually written, and important for that. Important that it records ordinary life, lived day to day. Ordinary life and lusts (after a lifetime of discretion). As though it was writing that led Barthes to speak of himself thus. That writing drew discretion from him; that it led it out. ‘I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t mean to say it’.
And isn’t such writing that calls writing from you? That says: I will confess in your place, speak everything. Or that: your life doesn’t matter because it lets me live. Imagine it: a confession that begins because it does not matter. That can speak of everything because it cares about nothing. Is that the wave that spreads at the end of Barthes’ life (though he did not know it was about to end)? Is that what reaches us in these posthumous texts?
Lars Iyer's Blog 