DESARROLLO A PARTIR DE LOS 3 AÑOS.

Ernaux’s distinctive “je transpersonnel” has come at a time when assumptions and conventional thought about the nature of subjectivity have been vigorously questioned by theorists throughout the humanities and social sciences. With the emergence of

poststructuralist theory, there has been a drastic rethinking of subjectivity and a move away from what geographers Steve Pile and Nigel Thrift, in their contribution to the anthology Mapping the Subject, refer to as the “monological conception of the subject,” a “disengaged first-person singular self” (15, 14). Pile and Thrift add that “new, more open figurations of the subject” are often conceptualized through metaphors of movement and mobility (19). Such metaphors surface in the work of feminist theorists and geographers who have been at the forefront of reconceptualizations of the subject. Kathy Ferguson, for instance, posits:

Mobile subjectivities are temporal, moving across and along axes of power (which are themselves in motion) without fully residing in them. They are relational, produced through shifting yet enduring encounters and connections, never fully captured by them. They are ambiguous: messy and multiple, unstable but persevering. (154)

The relational nature of subjectivity and identity is at the heart of contemporary

understandings of the subject, as Gillian Rose succinctly explains: “Who I am depends on me establishing in what ways I am different from, or similar to, someone else. We position it, while resistance rests on the intentions of the actor(s) […] Intentional transgression is a form of resistance that creates a response from the establishment – an act that draws the lines on a battlefield and defines the terrain on which contestation occurs.” (In Place 23; emphasis

ourselves in relation to others” (5). Drawing from the ideas of Louis Althusser, Elspeth Probyn describes this positioning as “a process and a production” involving ideological interpellations (294). Probyn argues against a conception of “fragmentary, floating subjectivities,” maintaining instead that “we may be hailed by different ideological

apparatuses, but we also seek some coherence even in the face of multiple interpellations” (296).

The mobility of the relational subject is thus not a haphazard drift. Rather, subjectivity is continuously rearticulated according to context. Amin and Thrift see the subject as moving through various relational networks:

human subjects which we conveniently describe as a unity of body and purpose are in fact aggregates of numerous subject positions which are parts of numerous networks. At any time, a ‘subject’ will therefore be a result of switching in and out of particular positions in particular networks, shuffling between particular spaces and times. (29)

The spatial component of subjectivity has long been neglected in theories of the self. Probyn seeks to compensate for this oversight by making a case for the “spatial imperative of

subjectivity”:

Thinking about subjectivity in terms of space of necessity reworks any conception that subjectivity is hidden away in private recesses. What we hold most dear, as an individual intimate possession, is in fact a very public affair. Thinking about how space interacts with subjectivity entails rethinking both terms, and their relation to each other. (290)

Doreen Massey likewise argues for a “subjectivity which is spatial…, outwardlooking in its perspectives and in the awareness of its own relational construction” (For Space 80). Such a focus on the external construction of subjectivity corresponds to Ernaux’s “‘je’

transpersonnel” and her belief, articulated in the Rousseau epigraph in Journal du dehors, that “Notre vrai moi n’est pas tout entier en nous” (6; emphasis in the original).

We have seen how the subway car functions as a temporary space of rest in Ernaux’s journaux extimes. She shows it also to be a site for interpellations of the subject, particularly with respect to class identification. Just as the subway car allows the body to rest

momentarily, class identification provides the subject with a metaphorical dwelling space. Ferguson explains: “Class, like race, gender, erotic identity, ‘etc.,’ can be a crucial but still temporary and shifting resting place for subjects always in motion and in relation” (177). Ernaux’s own class mobility is a theme throughout her works, as she grapples with conflicting feelings over her working class origins and her acquired status of middle class intellectual. Yet her class identification shifts depending on the socio-spatial context. At times, she shows what Sheringham calls “an enduring solidarity with working-class or culturally deprived people” (Everyday 324). Such is the case when Ernaux reflects on the colloquial language used by a woman in the pharmacy: “Paroles transmises de génération en génération, absentes des journaux et des livres, ignorées de l’école, appartenant à la culture populaire (originellement la mienne - c’est pourquoi je la reconnais aussitôt)” (Journal 70). In La Vie extérieure, recurring scenes of chômeurs selling street newspapers reveal Ernaux’s sympathy for these downtrodden individuals, as well as her scorn for social attitudes towards the homeless:

De plus en plus, ces journaux de la charité – que personne ne considère comme de ‘vrais’ journaux, ni leur vente comme un ‘vrai’ travail —

apparaissent comme une mesure dérisoire pour accommoder la pauvreté, voire empêcher qu’elle ne devienne dangereuse. (40-41)

Ernaux’s own anti-diary project in Journal du dehors and La Vie extérieure potentially opens her up to accusations of not producing legitimate works (“de ‘vrais’ journaux”). Her

connection to the street newspaper sellers is reinforced when a young man selling “La Rue” introduces himself as Éric to the R.E.R. passengers. “J’ai un fils qui s’appelle aussi Éric,”

Ernaux remarks.

In contrast with these momentary connections, in other situations Ernaux’s encounters with marginalized individuals accentuate class difference. Ernaux frequently portrays herself as complicit in the indifference of her fellow travelers toward the mendiants in subway cars and stations. In a scene at the Bastille station, Ernaux passes a panhandler kneeling on the ground with a cup in his outstretched hand: “Le flot des gens s’écarte en deux branches devant lui. J’étais dans celle de droite” (Vie 44). In another metro station, Ernaux witnesses a woman chastising the crowd for overspending on Christmas gifts rather than helping the needy:

Descendue sur le quai, elle se heurte aux gens qui portent des sacs de cadeaux pour Noël, elle les invective, ‘vous feriez mieux de donner de l’argent aux malheureux plutôt que d’acheter toutes ces conneries.’ Encore la vérité. Mais on ne donne pas pour faire le bien, on donne pour être aimé. Donner à un SDF juste pour l’empêcher de crever tout à fait est une idée insupportable et il ne nous en aimera pas pour autant. (Vie 69)

Despite Ernaux’s agreement with the homeless woman’s point, she aligns herself with the crowd through her use of the pronouns “on” and “nous.” Her complicity may in part be ironic, given her caustic comment that we give in order to be loved rather than out of altruism. Nonetheless, throughout her journaux extimes, Ernaux’s identification with marginalized figures is complicated by her awareness of class differences and her ambivalence over her own history of upward social movement.

The inconsistency of these identifications demonstrates the mobility of Ernaux’s transpersonal subject. She locates herself at different moments in various passersby, as when she comments about a woman on an airplane preparing herself for a rendezvous with a man: “C’est comme si j’étais elle” (Vie 12). Other times, Ernaux’s mobile subject recognizes herself through differences rather than similarities with anonymous others. On the Paris-

Cergy train, Ernaux spots a working-class African man whose discolored hands twitch compulsively while the rest of his body stays still. “Être un intellectual,” she comments self- reflexively, “c’est cela aussi, n’avoir jamais éprouvé le besoin de se séparer de ses mains énervées ou abîmées par le travail” (Journal 44). Ernaux’s transpersonal city is thus a social space of complex interpersonal relations, from shifting class identifications to codes of behavior followed by some and transgressed by others.

CHAPTER 4

AGNÈS VARDA’S EMBODIED CITY