El susurro del lenguaje

The whisper denotes a limit noise, an impossible noise, the noise of what, because it works perfectly, does not produce noise; to whisper is to let the same evaporation of noise be heard: the faint, the confused, the shaken are received as signs of sound cancellation. And as for the language, can you whisper? As a word it seems that it is still doomed to babble; as writing, to silence and to the distinction of signs: in any case, there is always too much meaning for language to achieve the pleasure that would be proper to its subject. But the impossible is not inconceivable: the whisper of the language constitutes a utopia. What kind of utopia? That of a music of meaning. The language, whispering, entrusted to the signifier in an unprecedented movement, unknown by our rational discourses, would not for that reason abandon a horizon of meaning: meaning, undivided, impenetrable, unnameable, would, however, be placed in the distance, like a mirage... the vanishing point of pleasure. It is the thrill of meaning that I question when listening to the whisper of language, of that language that is, for me, modern man, my Nature.