“What is left for the abstract thinker once she has given advice of wisdom and distinction? Well then, are we to speak always of Bousquet’s wound, about Fitzgerald’s and Lowry’s alcoholism, Nietzsche’s and Artaud’s madness while remaining on the shore? Are we to become the professionals who give talks on these topics? Are we to wish only that those who have been struck down do not abuse themselves too much? Are we to take up collections and create special journal issues? Or should we go a short way further to see for ourselves, be a little alcoholic, a little crazy, a little suicidal, a little of a guerrilla—just enough to extend the crack, but not enough to deepen it irremediably? Wherever we turn, everything seems dismal. Indeed, how are we to stay at the surface without staying on the shore? How do we save ourselves by saving the surface and every surface organisation, including language and life? How is this politics, this full guerrilla warfare to be attained? (How much we have yet to learn from Stoicism. . . . )”
—Gilles Deleuze, Logic of Sense (trans. Mark Lester).
Deleuzian pyrotechnics. I’ve a real urge to revisit his writing. I’m sure I was too young when first encountered. But where does that thought process stop?