WITH AND AGAINST : THE SITUATIONIST INTERNATIONAL IN THE AGE OF AUTOMATION
By Dominique Routhier
Verso. 258 pages. £17.99. ISBN 978-1-80439-355-6
Reviewed by Jim Burns
It intrigues me that, more than fifty years after they were active, the
writings and theories of a small group of largely French intellectuals
continue to attract attention. I’m impelled to add that, as far as I can
tell, the interest in what they had to say mostly resides in the academic
world. Beyond that I’d guess that the curiosity the Situationists arouse
might have more to do with the personalities
involved than with their theories. Someone once remarked that people
are more interesting than ideas. It’s possible to distinguish between
theories and ideas, of course, but there might be something in the
suggestion that, without discounting the value of current intellectual
debate about the theories, it can often be of use to look at the people who
came up with them and the milieu in which they operated.
Looking along my own bookshelves I can see a number of books that reflect
how, in retrospect, the Situationist moment can appear enticing. Ed Van Der
Elsken’s wonderful photographs
in his Love on the Left Bank
evoke the Parisian bohemian scene of the early 1950s. Many of them also
appeared in Jean-Michel Mension’s
The Tribe, in which he reminisced
about the Situationists and their predecessors, the Lettrists.
Giving names to miniscule avant-garde movements was a tradition going
back to the early days of modernism. Ralph Rumney was the sole member of the
London Psychogeographical Society, one of the founding organisations of the
Situationist International.
Rumney’s The Consul
is a memoir of his involvement with the Situationists.
And Michele Bernstein’s novel,
All the King’s Horses, is a
fictional account of Situationist circumstances. Bernstein was the
first wife of Guy Debord. His
The Society of the Spectacle was
the key philosophical document of the movement.
It might also be of interest to have
a look at Patrick Modiano’s
In the Café
of Lost Youth, a novel inspired by Ed Van Der Elsken’s
photographs.
I ought to point out that Dominique Routhier doesn’t mention
Elsken or Modiano. Nor does she have much to say about the other
books I’ve referred to. I’ve included them because I’m aware that I’m
writing for an audience that, individuals apart, may not be too
familiar with the Situationists. Routhier is concerned to
delve into their theories about society by tracing their origins and
how they may have relevance now. She points out that they originated at a
time, the 1950s, when French society was beginning to expand following the
war years and the austerity of the post-war period. Consumer goods were
starting to appear in the shops in greater quantities, car ownership was
rising, and life generally was becoming a little easier for the majority of
people. They could afford to buy more labour-saving devices. And why not?
They didn’t automatically sell their souls to the devil
of consumerism when they purchased a washing machine.
For Debord this focus on commodities was a warning sign that there was a
transformation from being into having. The capitalist system depended on
people wanting more. If they didn’t the patterns of production would break
down, and people might not be inclined to accept the status quo in terms of
who was in control.
It was essential to maintain “The
autocratic reign of the market economy”. Routhier says that “the car and the
refrigerator would, by
virtue of both their omnipresence
and their shiny surface appearances, come to embody post-war object
fetishism in France”. “Object fetishism” is one of those phrases
intellectuals like to use when they look at what other people spend their
money on. I can’t help thinking
that my mother would have loved
to have had a refrigerator instead of having to wage a constant battle to
keep food fresh in a house that lacked what are now basic amenities like a
refrigerator and a washing machine. And we really can’t afford to think
solely in terms of the West. There are millions of people in Africa, India,
and elsewhere, for whom the possession of a refrigerator or a washing
machine is never likely to be more than a dream.
In order to stimulate consumption and the desire for more goods
to admire and acquire the whole of
society becomes a “spectacle”.
After listing a number of items, including advertising, entertainments,
political campaigns, sports events, art tours, foreign wars, and space
launchings, Greil Marcus, discussing the Situationists in
Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of
the Twentieth Century, says that
spectacles “made a modern world in which all communication flowed in one
direction, from the powerful to the powerless......In the spectacle ,
passivity was simultaneously the means and the end of a great hidden
project, a project of social control”. It’s possible to argue about whether
or not this “control” has been achieved. The Internet may have reduced it
somewhat, though the authorities
constantly attempt to control its use and effectiveness, ostensibly
with good intentions though they may not be used that way by every agency of
government.
Routhier says that “the Situationists remained committed to a dissident
Marxist idea of revolution and nurtured a politically radical conception of
the avant-garde which they tried to re-enact in various ways.”
They often looked to the Dadaists and Surrealists for examples of how
to challenge the status quo in politics, art and other matters. For the
Situationists “work” was a dirty word, as it was for the Dadaists and
Surrealists. For most people work is a necessity, but can also be a pleasure
if you’re doing what you really want to do.
Going to work might be something else.
The Situationists probably also took
lessons from their precursors in how to get themselves noticed. As an aside,
once the Situationist International was formed in 1957 its leader, Debord,
acted rather like the Surrealist André Breton in expelling anyone who didn’t
agree with him from the group.
Debord had a penchant for abuse, too, as can be seen from a letter he wrote
to Abraham Moles, “one of the leading French cyberneticians of the time”,
when he tried to establish what seems to me an amiable dialogue with Debord.
The term “avant-garde” is used liberally throughout Routhier’s book, with an
acknowledgement that some commentators and critics, perhaps even a majority
of them, think that there is no longer an identifiable group, movement, or
whatever, that fits the description. Like Bohemia it was essentially a term
that came into use in the arts and politics in the nineteenth century, had
some currency in the first half of the twentieth, but no longer has any
substantial application. Having
said that, it could be that the avant-garde is now to be found in technology
which has far outstripped anything an artistic avant-garde could come up
with. Cybernetics is another term regularly employed by Routhier. I’ll
use a definition from the Internet (what would Debord and his
associates think of that if they were here?) : “the science concerned with
the storage of systems of any nature which are capable of receiving, storing
and processing information so as to use it for control”. Those last few
words are important – “so as to use it for control” – and they take us back
to Debord and what he said about commodity culture and its use as a means of
control.
It can be asked what influence Situationism had beyond Parisian intellectual
circles, and Routhier inevitably points to the events of May 1968 which, she
suggests, rocked the French state and almost brought down the government.
I’m never sure about such claims,
and suspect that a degree of romanticism creeps in when academics, sitting
at their desks, look back to a time when the action was in the streets and
intellectuals were even being taken seriously.
For what it’s worth, and I was
admittedly observing events from a distance, it never struck me that what
happened in Paris had any long-term significance. What happened in Prague in
1968 seemed much more important in that it pointed
towards the eventual crumbling and
collapse of communism, though I may not have realised it at the time. In
1968, I was an ex-soldier, married with a young family, working for an oil
company, writing regular reviews for
the left-wing weekly Tribune and
the literary quarterly Ambit,
contributing articles to various jazz publications,
trying to keep alive a little poetry
magazine I edited, and taking an
interest in union affairs. I read
an English translation of On
the Poverty of Student Life and wondered what all
the fuss was about. I could
understand that it dealt with far more than mere everyday materialist
problems of getting by, but students
seemed to me to be privileged in having the time to think about such
matters.
I’m not being dismissive when I state the above, and I value much of what is
in Routhier’s book. Her narrative of where
the Situationists came from, the social and political background to
their ideas, and how they developed them,
has much to offer. She has performed a worthwhile service by digging
out examples of leaflets,
pamphlets and other ephemera that readers like myself would find it almost
impossible to access. The stories of many artistic and political movements
can often be told through ephemera. I recall a large Surrealist exhibition
in Paris many years ago in which, as well as well-known paintings and books,
there were displays of postcards and obscure leaflets and pamphlets.
It wasn’t possible to touch them, but just having them there seemed
to better establish the mood of the
period. You could sense the feeling of innovation and excitement those
ageing documents represented.
The sub-title of With and Against
refers to The Situationist
International in the Age of Automation, and perhaps the latter term has
now been replaced in everyday parlance by “Artificial Intelligence” (AI). It
quickly arouses similar concerns in the sense of what happens to the mass of
people if machines of one kind or another take over the means of production?
Automation may have seemed to have largely affected manual workers but AI
spreads its net much wider. There is also the basic question of how the
capitalist system can keep producing goods if fewer people can afford to buy
them? There are markets outside the
West, but other countries can now manufacture their own cars, refrigerators,
washing machines, and at cheaper rates. And what do people
here do when they no longer have to
go to work?
I have the example of my father, a one-time sailor, steeplejack, docker and
labourer who, once he retired, did not know what to do with himself. He
didn’t read anything other than a daily paper, and needed to be doing
something. I’m not sure that
Situationist theories would have been likely to have solved his problem.
Work, of one kind or another, largely gave meaning to his life.
I recently came across another version of the anti-work theory in
Nick Totton’s Sailing to Bohemia :
The Vision of Freedom from Work-Discipline.
I’ve always felt sympathetic
towards bohemianism as a “state of mind”, and fascinated by its
history in relation to the arts, but
have never seen it as being of appeal to more than a minority of people.
Someone has to staff the hospitals and keep the streets clean. As a
counter-balance to the experiences of my father, who I admired in many ways
because of the range of his experiences, I think I ought to add that in my
working life I came across lots of people who had plenty of outside
interests and used their leisure time and their retirement years to good
advantage.
It does occur to me that organisations like the Situationist International
are often made up of individuals who
have been disappointed because the “workers” did not fulfil their “historic
mission” of overthrowing capitalism. So they search for other groups on
which they can project their fantasies. Students, people throwing off the
yoke of colonialism. What next?
All those who fall victim to the ravages of AI, assuming it comes to that? I
don’t wish to appear flippant and would like to hear some ideas, not
theories, about how to deal with the looming crisis, if there is one.
I hope it will be clear that Dominique Routhier’s book, as well as providing
a useful survey of the history of the Situationist International, raises a
lot of interesting questions which reach far beyond the boundaries of the
1950s and 1960s. The situation now is worse in many ways than it was.
International capitalism dominates to a far greater degree and some would
say that national governments are effectively at the beck and call of banks
and big business more than they ever were. Technology, in the shape of the
Internet and associated systems, while having its benefits, can increasingly
be seen as a force for repression and people persuaded that restrictions are
necessary and for their own good. Big Brother is benign, or so we are told.
Despite my doubts and disagreements relating to what the Situationist
International stood for and still does, I would suggest that
With and Against is well worth
reading. It can easily be tied in with the books I mentioned earlier which
help to throw light on the personalities involved. And should anyone want to
know more about them I’d recommend McKenzie Wark’s
The Beach Beneath the Street: The
Everyday Life and Glorious Times of the Situationist International,
and Andrew Hussey’s The
Game of War: The Life and Death of Guy Debord.
Wark can be particularly provocative:
“These days artists are happy to settle for a little notoriety, a
good dealer, and a retrospective. Art has renounced the desire to give form
to the world. Having ceased to be modern, and finding it too passé to be
post-modern, art is now merely
contemporary, which seems to mean nothing more than yesterday’s art at
today’s prices. If anything, theory has turned out even worse. It found its
utopia, and it is the academy”. I’m
tempted to add that it sometimes seems to me that academic philosophers
imagine themselves as some sort of avant-garde. They can theorise
about art and society
without having to actually do anything. Conceptual art gives the illusion of
creativity without its realisation. Utopian theories have little relevance
to the real world around us. Personally, I don’t trust utopias. Reading
histories of them, large and small, they too often seem to turn into a
tyranny with a dominant individual coming to the fore.
A final thought. On the day I finished this review I chanced to hear a radio
programme about experimental music (John Cage, Cornelius Cardew, etc.) in
which ”avant-garde” inevitably
cropped up, along with a couple of phrases that put me in mind of the
Situationists. Dominique Routhier discusses how manifestos have been a
significant part of avant-garde activity, and someone on the programme
remarked that “A manifesto is about action and
can itself be the action”. And at the end of the broadcast:
“We need a manifesto to get us out
of the rut of consumerism”. Guy Debord would have been delighted to hear
that.