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MazzarellaThe Mana of Mass e University o Chicago PressChica


vii Acknowledgments ntroductionA Certain Rush o Energy Par33 Chapter 1: Moden SavageyMana beyond the Empiricist Settlement63 Chapter 2: Ecstatic Life and Social FomCollective E

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MazzarellaThe Mana of Mass e University o Chicago PressChica
MazzarellaThe Mana of Mass e University o Chicago PressChica

vii Acknowledgments ntroductionA Certain Rush o Energy Par33 Chapter 1: Moden SavageyMana beyond the Empiricist Settlement63 Chapter 2: Ecstatic Life and Social FomCollective E

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1 MazzarellaThe Mana of Mass e Univer
MazzarellaThe Mana of Mass e University o Chicago PressChicago and London vii Acknowledgments ntroductionA Certain Rush o Energy Par33 Chapter 1: Moden SavageyMana beyond the Empiricist Settlement63 Chapter 2: Ecstatic Life and Social FomCollective Eervescence and the Primitive Settlement Par Chapter 3: Anxious Autonomye Agony o Perfect Addressability and the Aesthetic Settlement Chapter 4: Are You Talking to Me?Eros and Nomos in the Mimetic Archive173 otes209 eferences233 ndex A Certain Rush o EnergyA certain rush o energy. is is what the sociologist Émile Durkheim wrote in his 1912 mastepiece, e Elementary Forms o Religious Life: “e stimulating action o society is not felt in exceptional circumstances alone. ere is virtually no instant o our lives in which tain ush o energy fails to come to us from outside ourselves.”One o the names that Durkheim gave to this energy, this stimulating action o society, was mana—a Polynesian word meaning, roughly, supenatural force or ecacy. Although Durkheim’s book was ostensibly concened with “pimitive” foms o collective eervescence, with the itual assemblies o Australian Aboigines and Northwest Coast Ameican Indians, it was in fact a meditation on what one could call the vital energetics o all human societies, from the smallest to the most complex, from face- to face interactions to mass- mediated networks. Mana, Durkheim argued, was “at once a physical force and a moral power.” It was a name for that feeling o “genuine respect” that makes us “defer to society’s orders.” It might be embodied in a chief’s potency or in the aura o a sacred object. But it was also chronically unstable and leaky, pepetually and sometimes dangerously over€owing its containers: “Religious forces are so imagined as appear always on the point o escaping the places they occupy and invading all that passes within their reach.”‚ 2      is book picks up on Durkheim’s provocation and asks what it would mean, for social theoy, to imagine the mana that powers an Aboiginal itual as substantially continuous with the mana that infuses an urban crowd or even, dierently modulate

2 d, a television audience or an Inte
d, a television audience or an Intenet public. It asks how one might theoize the mana o mass society in a world where a certain ush o energy is as likely to be found in consumer brand advertising as in totemic signs, as likely to power a fascination with chaismatic politicians as an af\rliation with traditional authoities. Is mana dierent when it comes s with the cuious blend o intimacy and impersonality so characteistic o public address?kheim tended to presume that the “stimulating action o society” was unambiguously vitalizing, that it was the source not only our sense o commitment to life in common but also o our moral faculties, even our vey ability to think at all. But what about the mana of, say, racist or nationalist ideologies that oer their adherents a sense o common energy and solidaity at the cost o abjecting an other? Knowing what we now know about murderous foms llective eevescence, from the centralized cults o fascism to the decentralized networks o global terror, do we need a dierent way to understanding the dynamic movement o what Durkheim’s nephew, the polymath Marcel Mauss, called “the collective forces o society”?„is book came together duing a time o surging energies, light and dark. e energies o the worldwide Occupy movement, o the Arab Sping, and o Black Lives Matter. e energies o the migrant cisis in Europe, o gatheing ecological catastrophe, o meandeing militaism and the tense topology o terror. As I thought and wrote, I watched “that mana wave called …ump” moph from improbable to inevitable and back . . . and back again. As one commentator obseved: “He is not tying to persuade, detail, or prove: he is tying to l, agitate, be liked, be loved, here and now. He is tying to make energy.” Amid these surges, I pondered the questions that animate this book. What powers authoity? What in us responds to it? How is vital energy tuned into social form? Conversely, how do social foms activate new vital potentials? Why do certain times, people, places, and things feel heightened in relation to humdum life? How are we to 3       ƒ ˆ  

3 understand not just the meanings
understand not just the meanings to which we \rnd ourselves attached but also their rhythms? What is the social basis o commitment, engagement, identi\rcation, and desire? In short: how is it that we have nly meaning, but meaning that mattersinking the mana o mass society means reconsideing Durkheim’s theoy o itual and collective eevescence, but also Max Weber’s discussions o authoity and chaisma and Karl Max’s ideas about fetishism and ideology. Mana, I will be suggesting, marks the spot where vitality and its relation to authoity and expeience is at once acknowledged and disavowed. As such, it helps to bing together classic topics in social theoy with more recent debates around aect, sovereignty, immanence, and emergence. Cucially, this is not just a stoy about large- scale phenomena. Spectacle can too easily overshadow less blinding events. AŠer all, as Durkheim wrote, “ere is virtually no instant in our lives in which a certain ush o energy fails to come to us from outside ourselves.” An important question for me in the pages that follow is how the mana o mass society connects the macro- foms o itual, publicity, and display with the micro- dimensions o expeience.is means at least two things. First, it means exploing the relation between the exceptional and the eveyday, a key Durkheimian theme. I certain occasions or practices—for example important ituals—have to be special and yet also have to sustain the rhythms o ordinay life, then how is that specialness both maintained and diffused? is tuns out to be a cucial question in democratic theoy as well as in consumer marketing. In an age when the people are sovereign, and yet the people are, by de\rnition, not a single body in a icular place, how is this sovereignty to be itually represented in such a way that it can focus energies and commitments and yet also appear as the immanent substance o the collective? In marketing, brands do the work o “keeping- while- giving,” o remaining propietay repositoies o heightened value, controlled by coporations, while at the same time being readily available for purchase.ŒSecond, Durkheim says that social energy comes to us “from outside ourse

4 lves,” and one o my key preocc
lves,” and one o my key preoccupations in this book is rethinking the relation between what is “inside” and what is “outside.” Mana, I will be arguing, oers a handle on what the psychoana 4      lyst Jacques Lacan called the extimate: that which is at once extenal and intimate, that which we expeience, ambivalently, as part o the world that confronts us and yet at the same time as something that is palpably, intensely, at the vey core o our sense o ourselves. Again one can see how this plays out in both politics and marketing once one asks what, exactly, is activated by the chaismatic leader or by the desirable brand? Where is it? Is it inside us or outside us? Does it lie in wait somewhere inside us, fully fomed, waiting to \rnd its perfect match in the outside world? Or is it in a fundamental sense actu-alizedy the encounter with the leader or the brand that tuns out to e “just what I always wanted” (except I didn’t know I wanted it until the moment o encounter)? is sense o power as potentiality, o an ecacy that bings things into the world and makes them “work” is, as we shall see, one o the faces o mana.Order and emergence: that is the double fascination o mana. Mana appears as a name for the transcendent force guaranteeing a moral order, a symbolic order, a cultural order. But it is also always a mark o excess, o the super- natural, the sur- plus, the “surcharge.”It is the ecacy that exceeds and over€ows basic requirements. And yet somehow this vey excessiveness, this way in which mana always seems to embody a “something more” at the heart o any given social order, makes it both instumentally and aesthetically indispensable. It is this emergent property at the heart o order that links mana to notions o mass publicity, both in the register o chaismatic politics (as Max Weber knew) and in the register o the auratic aesthetics o artworks (as eodor Adono knew).I devote quite a bit o space, particularly in the second hal o this book, to thinking about politics as marketing and marketing as politics. We live in a time when the lessons o consumer marketing have become doxa among political strategists, and the \rgure o the consumer- citizen has beco

5 me the most readily accessible shorthand
me the most readily accessible shorthand for the democratic subject. inking the mana o mass society across politics and marketing, then, at one level merely acknowledges a social fact. As an intepretive strategy, though, it has the added advantage o allowing me to revisit those debates in citical theoy and aesthetics that, for almost a centuy now, have speculated on the fate o an €ouishing in a world where what eodor Adono and Walter Benjamin called the mimetic faculty—a sensuous, transfomative 5       ƒ ˆ   ability to resonate with the world—has increasingly been hanessed by sovereign pretenders, whether political or commercial.Constitutive Resonance: An Analytic of EncounterMimetic resonance may also be glossed as constitutive resonancetem that I borrow from the philosopher Peter Sloterdijk. A vaiation on the more familiar elective anity, constitutive resonance suggests a relation o mutual becoming rather than causal detemination. Not all people or things are capable o resonating with each r (and one o the \rrst tasks o the would- be mana worker—whether politician or marketer or just garden- vaiety magician—is to \rgure out what resonates with what). But resonance, once established, is a source o both actualization and anxiety. I become mysel ugh you, but I also lose mysel in you. By the logic o constitutive resonance, i “I” and “you” can appear as “subject” and “object” then it is only by means o a shared \reld o emergence in which no such boundaies can be taken for granted.Resonant encounters, then, are erotic in the ancient sense explored by Anne Carson: on the one hand, “this heightened sense o one’s own personality (‘I am more mysel than ever before!’),” and, on the other hand, a loss o sel expeienced as a cisis o physical and emotional integity; Sappho called eros the “melter o limbs.”Resonant encounter is at once constitutive and destitutive. It’s a way o thinking about the making and unmaking o selves and worlds, as well as o the attachments o selves to the worlds in which they can feel alive, usually by means o some ambivalent co

6 mbination o armation and refu
mbination o armation and refusal. Sometimes the pursuit o constitutive resonance is self- consciously “sacred,” such as in several recent ethnographic accounts o leaning to hear and to receive the call o piety. Sometimes, as in the second hal o this book, constitutive resonance is expeienced as a more “secular” seduction: how to negotiate the siren ngs o political and commercial publicity.is book is based on a deceptively simple assumption: encounter is primary. What might that mean? Social theoists oŠen talk and wite as i people inhabit given, more or less bounded social stuctures and identities that peiodically come up against challenges to 6      their coherence and integity. From such a standpoint, dierence appears from outside—an uncanny stranger or an inexplicable way o ing things. From that perspective, the important question is generally, how far must stucture be stretched in order to make sense o s extenal intusion?But what i one tuns this around? What i one starts with encounter rather than with stucture? is may seem like a chicken- and- egg problem; surely, one always presupposes the other? Yes. O course it’s not as i people ever have encounters that are innocent o the contexts and histoies that they bing to them. Nor is there any social stucture free o more or less destabilizing encounters. So maybe I’m just proposing a dierent emphasis? Maybe I’m advocating paying attention to moments o dierence rather than to stuctures o sameness? Not quite.remise is that it matters a great deal for how we understand key concepts like society, subjectivity, and ideology whether the inquiy starts with encounter or starts with stucture. Again, it’s not about choosing or valoizing one or the other. I the discussion starts with stucture, then it’s likely to become preoccupied with questions like “how is stucture reproduced?” “How can we account for change?” Here, stucture is the baseline and encounter is the potential interuption o stucture. But i encounter is the starting point, then other kinds o questions appear. What resonates in the wake o the encounter? What doesn’t? What

7 is activated in an encounter such that i
is activated in an encounter such that it might feel like a moment o promise, o agitation, o potential, or o threat?Rather than asking how stucture is reproduced one might ask how it is that the world comes to seem stuctured at all. Given that, as Heraclitus obseved, one can’t step in the same iver twice, it’s really quite extraordinay that anyone is ever able to feel that they live in relatively continuous worlds and that they generally expeience—or come to expeience—encounter as iteration rather than as upture or diŠ. What interests me is encounter as the resonant occasion and tigger for eveything social theoy understands as “identity,” “culture,” “desire,” and so on; encounter as a moment o mimetic yielding that at the same time actualizes the intelligible dierences that people then proceed to inhabit as “me” and “you,” “ours” and “theirs.”Starting with encounter means starting with provocation—in two 7       ƒ ˆ   senses. On the one hand, provocation mobilizes categoies so that sameness and dierence can be managed. Social scientists are used to talking about the provocation o dierence: how do people deal with dierence? Where do they put it? How do they “place” unfamiliar things, making sense o them—even when they don’t quite \rt—in ms o familiar things? Such questions are o course fundamental to the operation o any kind o social life, from the smallest face- to face relationships to the most extensive bureaucracies. Encounter provokes classi\rcation and routinization.But the provocation o encounter may also be read as pro- vocation—as, literally, a calling forth an activation, a prompt to becoming. Encounter doesn’t just mean coming face to face with dierence, the way an academic or a clerk might, and having to work out what to do with it. It also suggests a resonant (not necessaily pleasant) tiggeing o something unexpected: a potentiation, perhaps an tualization, but perhaps also a traumatic echo (in which case the constitutive aspect o the resonance is mediated by the scars o suffeing). An encounter is what the philosopher J. G. Fichte c

8 alled Anstossa tigger moment, an im
alled Anstossa tigger moment, an impact, an impetus, or an initiation. In any se, a moment whose aective tenor is not just one o a categoical challenge but also potentially one o fascination, seduction, identi\rcation, or desire.Ritual—the central preoccupation o Durkheim’s Elementary Forms—is a cucial categoy here, because it so palpably blends both senses o provocation: on the one hand, itual involves Anstoss, a live calling forth o “the collective forces o society” in a manner that aspires to be at once impersonal and exquisitely intimate. On the other hand, itual reproduces fom through the repetitive amation o categoies. is, too, is one o the faces o mana: the potentiality that is always unstable, leaky, unpredictable, and, at the same time, the substance that powers and authoizes a reigning social order, lending it the weight o the sacred. e fascination and the power o itual is that it at once activates and routinizes encounter.But i there is provocation, then what is provoked? I there is activation, then what is activated? What is the material, the substance on which all these processes go to work? Anthropologists (particularly on the Ameican side o the pond) have long been in the habit nvoking “culture” in order to explain the pattened ways in which 8      “the collective forces o society” move, as well as what I will gloss as the relatively predictable pattens o our addressability as individuals living in particular, meaningful worlds. Painfully aware o the compromised quality o the culture concept today—not least because o its hijacking by politics and marketing—I suggest an altenative concept, the mimetic archive: the residue, embedded not only in the explicitly articulated foms commonly recognized as cultural discourses but also in built environments and mateial foms, in the concrete histoy o the senses, and in the habits o our shared embodiment.is residue, the mimetic archive, is preseved on two levels. On one level, it appears as incipient potential. On another level, it takes the fom o all the explicitly elaborated discursive and symbolic foms through which the potentials o a mimetic archive have earlie

9 r been actualized, each actualization th
r been actualized, each actualization then proliferating and retuning new potentials to the archive. Some o the archive is o course textual or signi\res in other more or less overt ways. But by far the largest part o the archive exists virtually yet immanently in the nonsignifying yet palpably sensuous dimensions o collective life. In Deleuzian language, these immanent potentials are infolded as incipience. In a Benjaminian idiom, one could say that they are innervated. In a more directly anthropological register, one could invoke a \rgure like Marcel Jousse, a student o Marcel Mauss and Pierre Janet, who grounded both language and consciousness in the mimetic rhythms o the body. Memoy, as Charles Hirschkind glosses Jousse, is built on “the reactivation o gestures, understood as the sensoy sediments o pior perceptions.” ese sediments become the basis for “latent tendencies, dispositions toward certain kinds o action operating independently o conscious thought.”uren Berlant wites o “a histoy o impacts held in reseve.”On that note I would like to stress two dimensions o the mimetic archive as I conceive it: its virtuality and its histoicity. First, “impacts n reseve” are, indeed, “latent.” ey are virtual potentialities that at once embed a histoy o encounters and lie in wait for the future encounters that will actualize them in new foms. “Reactivation,” then, is not simply duplicative reenactment but always involves unpredictable transfomations in the transition from the virtual to 9       ƒ ˆ   the actual. e virtuality o the mimetic archive is therefore inseparable from its histoicity. On the one hand, the archive embeds latent histoies o encounter; on the other hand, its actualization constitutive resonance awakened between these embedded encounter- histoies and the tiggers o the present.For this fomulation I am, as in so many respects, indebted to Walter Benjamin, who wrote: “this dialectical penetration and actualization o fomer contexts puts the tuth o all present action to the test. Or rather, it seves to ignite the explosive mateials that are latent in what has been.” Pasts,

10 collective and/or intimate, are only at
collective and/or intimate, are only at one level the stoies we tell ourselves. At another level, they are the potentials, embedded, perhaps, in some apparently tivial object, much like Proust’s protagonist \rnds in his madeleine an unexpected and ovewhelming sensuous prompt to the evocation o a whole world. Like Benjamin, I’m interested in constitutive encounter as a way o talking about how resonance—whether routinized or entirely supising—makes and unmakes us through those decisive (although not always dramatic) moments o legibility that Benjamin called dialectical images:It’s not that what is past casts its light on what is present, or what is present its light on what is past; rather, image is that wherein what has been comes together in a €ash with the now to fom a constellation. . . . Evey present day is detemined by the images that are synchronic with it: each ‘now’ is the now o a particular recognizability. In it, tuth is charged to the bursting point with time. . . . For while the relation o the present to the past is purely temporal, the relation o what- has- been to the now is dialectical: not temporal in nature but \rgural.Cucially, there’s no reason to assume that mimetic resonance necessaily points to liberation. Rather, the point is that mimesis, as Homi Bhabha has shown us, is as much a matter o discipline as it is about transfomation—again, the two faces o mana. I use the tem metic archive strategically, then, not necessaily in a bid to replace the culture concept, but rather as a reminder o what that concept would have to be capable o in order to do what it must. 10      e Mana o Mass Society is by no means a work o intellectual histoy. It is far too intepretive and idiosyncratic to deseve such a digni\red name. Instead, I take as my pimay methodological tool the concept o settlements. I discuss three: the empiicist settlement (chapter 1), the pimitive settlement (chapter 2), and the aesthetic settlement (chapter 3). e list o settlements could—and I hope will—be extended. I use the tem to suggest the tension between the appearance o a negotiated, reasonable compromise and the violence o the settler whose stability o residence depends on

11 the displacement and disavowal o t
the displacement and disavowal o the one that his presence silences. My basic premise is that each o these settlements marks a moment o encounter in social theoy and the consequent attempt to resolve an unstable yet seductive relation o ambivalence. So: the empiicist settlement establishes a bounday between moden \reldwork- based anthropology and its speculative- comparative precursors; the pimitive settlement separates “pimitive” practices from “civilized” noms; and the aesthetic settlement makes a safe place for magic in one pivileged location within civilization—art.By attempting the pui\rcation, as Buno Latour might say, o a pro- vocative encounter, each settlement establishes an extimate relation: it draws a line o demarcation that constitutes a coherent discipline by abjecting its intolerably intimate and thus also irreducibly constitutive other. And as with all extimacies, it generates an inescapable symptom. No sooner has the line o settlement been drawn than the repressed starts to retun. What unites the three settlements that I discuss in this book is their common concen with mana. In each case, mana is the name for a “pimitive” potentiality—o energy, o magic, o the sacred—that at once is and is not the same as parallel potentialities in “moden” societies. By the same token, in each case mana is, as we shall see, the recurrent symptom.Much o what mana is, does, or could become will sound vey familiar to present- day readers o aect theoy. Kathleen Stewart, in Ordinary Aects, wites: “Something huge and impersonal uns through things, but it’s also mysteiously intimate and close at hand. At once abstract and concrete, it’s both a distant, untouchable order o things and a claustrophobically close presence”—and she could 11       ƒ ˆ   be invoking mana. Likewise, once one starts probing the mana symptom, it opens up onto something not altogether separable from what Tery Eagleton and W. F. Haug call the aesthetic: an ideological discourse that naturalizes domination andrgent domain o palpable resonance that is both indispensable to power and refractoy ts ambitions. ‚Rather than treatin

12 g mana as yet another vaiant o
g mana as yet another vaiant o something already known, however, I want to give it the bene\rt o a provocative encounter—just as thinking aesthetics requires a dierent kind o histoical sensing. Berlant puts it admirably: “too oŠen we deive a sense o a time, place, and power through histoical archives whose job it is to explain something aesthetic without thinking the aesthetic in the sensually aective tems that conventions o entextualization always code, perfom, and release.” Because o the ways that mana haunts settled sites, then, I’m wageing that opening up those settlements may well also open up fresh ways o thinking affect and aesthetics.Confessions of a Dialectical VitalistPerhaps this whole exercise is, in a way, motivated by a desire to revisit yet another settlement—the line that was drawn through anthropology in the mid- 1980s ight before my generation started studying it. is line, vaiably known as the “citique o representation” or, following the title o one o its key texts, Writing Culturehad the eect o demarcating a “before”—when anthropologists supposedly engaged in naively unre€exive modes o ethnographic desciption—and an “aŠer”—when they were hip to citical theoy, deconstuction, and a postcolonial politics o representation. Hardly anyone really thought that it was as simple as all that, but the sense o a line having been drawn oŠen did make our relation to the anthropological canon rather awkward. While we could certainly pretend t a genome sequencing lab or a television news production studio was a bit like a tibal village, ethnographic strategies developed for face- to face societies were not in any obvious way vey useful when it came to making sense o how even the most local \reld sites were now, thanks to increasingly ubiquitous electronic media, embroiled 12      in translocal circuits o images, goods, and knowledge, as well as in real- time communication with far- €ung people and places.I wite from the standpoint o my own speci\rcally located expeience as a graduate student at Berkeley in the early 1990s, still ing from something like a time- travel hangover aŠer having been an undergraduate a

13 t the University o Cambidge. O
t the University o Cambidge. O course things played out dierently in other places. But as I recall it, introductoy graduate seminars on anthropological theoy oŠen manifested the before/aŠer split. Some professors tied a simple chronological exposition, with the result that many students, bored and restless, dutifully waded through stuctural functionalism, kinship models, and stucturalist analyses o myth, before, with an air o now being superbly deseving o dessert, devouing more recent articles on globalization, NGOs, and biosociality. Other professors started with the citique o representation before arcing back through classic works in the discipline. is strategy tended to have the eect o ucing in many o us students a supercilious (and, it must be said, naively histoicist) attitude toward earlier anthropologies, since we thought we already possessed the tools with which to diagnose their irretievable outmodedness and incurable pathology. Either way, the “aŠer” was where things were happening, and the “before” was something that, at best, provided raw mateial for narcissistically indignant denunciations o anthropology’s colonial complicities.be sure, there were other students who took a more conseva-tive path. Repelled by the postuing o their ight- on peers, they saw themselves as custodians o a ich ethnographic heitage, one now at isk from the so- called navel- gazing theoreticism o the new, soi- disant “citical” anthropology. Only relatively few o us—most o the time I was not one—found ways o making the deeper anthropological heitage come alive in the present, not by insisting on the continued importance o small- scale village \reldwork (nothing wrong with that, obviously), but rather by exploing how emergent concens in the present might activate hitherto unrealized potentials in the mimetic archive o the discipline. is book is my belated attempt at such an exercise. AŠer a long and frequently fuitful detour ugh citical theoy, thinking the mana o mass society feels like a homecoming more or less unencumbered by the cloying scent o nostalgia. 13       ƒ ˆ   

14 1; In an inaugural essay for HAU, the op
1; In an inaugural essay for HAU, the open access “jounal o ethnographic theoy” and book impint, Giovanni Da Col and David Graeber lament the passing o a golden age o anthropology duing which ethnographically deived concepts—totem, taboo, potlatch, mana—“were heated topics o intellectual debate; concepts that eveyone, philosophers included, had to take seiously.” Today, they charge, anthropologists have been reduced to second- rate exegetes o concepts from European philosophy, “and no one outside anthropology really cares what we have to say about them.” Likewise, anthropologists, having fallen prey to “a colossal failure o neve” brought on in part by the citique o representation, have forgotten how to remind our fellow scholars o the long and deep conceptual archive we have to oer to areas o common concen: “Deleuzians and Speculative Realists wite about the ontology and the elusiveness o lifeand their re€ections are gravely debated in other disciplines, without anyone even noticing the ich anthropological literature on manaHow could I not be sympathetic? Aren’t Da Col and Graeber invoking something like what I have sketched above under the ubics o encounter and constitutive resonance when they call for “a conversion o stranger- concepts that does not entail merely tying to establish a correspondence o meaning between two entities or the constuction o heteronymous hamony between dierent worlds, but ther, the generation o a disjunctive homonymity, that destuction o any \rm sense o place that can only be resolved by the imaginative fomulation o novel worldviews”?e project o HAU promises a renewal o an anthropology constitutively engaged with the concens and imaginations o ordinay infomants around the world rather than passively importing readymades from the Great Men o eoy. And I do sense a strong anity between my own project in this book and Da Col and Graeber’s allegiance to those “who, acknowledging the analogies between philosophy and anthropology, are careful enough to think about what makes the two distinctive, and at the same time, bold enough to create their own conceptual repertoire.”At the same time,

15 i my own book is a small conti
i my own book is a small contibution to this larger project o “retun[ing] anthropology to its oiginal and distinctive conceptual wealth,” then it proceeds not by reinstalling a lost integity but rather by reencounteing the symptoms that mark 14      the settlements that allowed, say, “anthropology” and “European philosophy” to begin appeaing as distinct and autonomous projects. For there is a common mimetic archive here—an archive that is the condition o possibility for both anthropology and citical theoy, an archive that lies hal buied under the settlements that forced their separation. I “reading” a settlement symptom like mana is to help tigger new insights then it will not happen, I suspect, by means o an act o pure will, through a pincipled decision to correct the course o an anthropology that has diŠed too far into dependence on outside centers o intellectual authoity. Rather, the challenge, the opportunity, lies in acknowledging the resonant intimacy o that outside—its extimacy—and working back through a long genealogy o “almost- aying,” o constitutive encounters that are already embedded in the sense making that has taken place between anthropologists, citical theoists, and psychoanalysts for a hundred years or more.It is not unimportant to my engagement with mana that vitalism has made something o a comeback in anthropology—now most oŠen, as Da Col and Graeber note, in a Deleuzian avatar. is renewed concen with the uncanny intimacy o impersonal processes o emergence has, moreover, been given a boost by a combination o posthuman and ecological engagements. While there is much that is urgent, ich, and sophisticated in these lines o inquiy, I have for some time been concened that they oŠen tend, as Slavoj •i˜ek notes, toward an undialectical (indeed, oŠen proudly antidialectical) “preference for dierence over sameness, for histoical change over order, for openness over closure, for vital dynamics over igid schemes, for temporal \rnitude over etenity. . . . For me, these preferences are by no means self- evident.”­„In my book Censorium I admitted, in a coyly perfomative wording, that 

16 7;I would not be altogether embarrassed,
7;I would not be altogether embarrassed, then, i someone used me o being that rather peculiar monster: a ‘dialectical vitalist.’”ome months later, a fiend and senior colleague accused me, more prosaically but not unsympathetically, o “wanting to have it both ways.” On that score I remain unrepentant, i anything more insistent than ever. Mana o Mass Society is, i not quite a manifesto o dialectical vitalism, then certainly an exercise in it. It’s not a question for me o choosing “ethnographic theoy” or “citical theoy.” 15       ƒ ˆ   Rather, it’s a question o how the particular road I have taken, by means o vehicles belonging to both, allows me to re- member them in ways that may illuminate the present.One example o what I mean by this re- membeing is the object- ethics that I develop in these pages. Here, as ever, mana is the extimate symptom that marks a bittle settlement: in the case o the argument that I develop in chapter 3, the settlement that separates Adono’s aesthetic theoy—which is fundamentally premised on constitutive resonance—from his fuious denunciation o commodi\red cultural production. inking through this settlement, I realized that it oered something o an altenative perspective on what it means to be a human being, living in the world and theoizing that world—an altenative to much o what has appeared under the heading o the “ontological tun” that has brought anthropologists and philosophers into renewed conversation in recent years. My pupose here is neither to preempt chapter 3 nor to oer any kind o comprehensive review o an ontological tun that, in any case, is more o a sonant assemblage than a “position.” My pupose, rather, is only to oer some vey general framing thoughts about why an object- ethics can also be a subject- ethics—why thinking in more complex ways about encounters with objects doesn’t have to involve falling back on zombie constuctions like “e Enlightenment Subject” or “e Kantian Subject” (undead straw concepts that can be relied on to retun etenally so that posthumanist c

17 1;itics can keep shooting them wn, all t
1;itics can keep shooting them wn, all the while not heaing what the undead, from behind their zombie makeup, are tying to say).e global ecological cisis as well as the explosion in alter- phobic (racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, queer- phobic) violence presses upon us urgently. How are we to reconnect with a world—and with our own and each other’s organic emplacements in that world—from which, the ontophiles tell us, the Kantian tradition has exiled us? e Kantian tradition insists that we cannot know the world in itself, only the representations o the world that our brains (and latterly our cultures) pemit us. Consequently, the anti- Kantian cit 16      ics claim, we have eectively allowed an ethic o epistemological modesty (“we can’t ever be completely sure o our knowledge o the world”) to slip into an attitude o violent and arrogant mastey (“because we are separated from the world we need to \rnd ways o controlling it”). Likewise, in anthropology a pose o relativist modesty all any o us have is our culturally constucted perspectives on the world”) has tended to slip into a kind o fomalist universalism that pemits dierence only at the level o content (“anthropology is a master- suvey o the range o cultural solutions to the universal natural predicament o being human”).­‡To remedy this supposed “Kantian catastrophe,” a range o thinkers are tying to \rnd ways o reversing what one might call the human sciences’ epistemological humblebrag. e pize to be regained is, as the philosopher Quentin Meillassoux puts it, “the great outdoors”—the world out there in its ontological actuality. Some o the more speculative vaiations on the entepise are asking us to consider such enigmas as what it might be like to be a rock. Anthropological exponents o the ontological tun have, however, tended toward paratively more modest inquiies. Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, for example, calls for an anthropology that allows the “fom o the matter” o our infomants’ discourse to reach into and transfom the “matter o the fom” o our conceptual work, an anthropology that is concened with “d

18 etemining the problems posed by eac
etemining the problems posed by each culture, not o \rnding solutions for the problems posed by our own.”‚ŽSo far, so Georg Lukács, for didn’t the great Maxist philosopher diagnose, in the early 1920s, that the problem with what he called the “rei\red” foms o bourgeois knowledge was that they assumed at once a universalizing and a contemplative relation to an extenal world that they were thereby unable to understand as anything but a seies o contents or vaiables to be slotted into transcendent fomal stuctures? As Lukács wrote o the bureaucratic imagination, which he took to be a paradigm o rei\red thought: “objectively all issues are subjected to an increasingly formal and standardized treatment and . . . there is an ever- increasing remoteness from the qualitative and mateial essence o the ‘things’ to which bureaucratic activity pertains.” And just as Viveiros de Castro calls for an anthropological opening to the ontological alteity—not just the “cultural content”—o other ways o apprehending and organizing life, so Lukács imag 17       ƒ ˆ   ines a nonreifying relation to the world in which “actuality, content, matter reaches ight into the fom [o knowledge], the stuctures o the foms and their interrelations and thus into the structure o the system itself.”‚ Whereas Lukács’s citical aim is a dialectical overcoming o the antinomies o bourgeois thought, Viveiros de Castro seems to be defending a fom o ethnographic encounter that transfoms both anthropologists and their infomants by leaving their preexisting differences suspended in a productive relation o integral nonidentity: “What would happen i the native’s discourse were to operate within the discourse o the anthropologist in a way that produced reciprocal knowledge eects upon it?” Such an opening sounds exemplay, o course—who’s not in favor o being open? But just as the pice o Lukács dialectical overcoming is a totalizing histoical narrative in which there is only one destination (proletaian revolution), so Viveiros de Castro’s opening continues to rely on a \rgure o bo

19 unded cultural dierence (“dete
unded cultural dierence (“detemining the problems posed by each culture”).Must we end up with either uni\red destiny or integral islands? As Graeber points out in the course o a citical engagement with Viveiros de Castro and the ontological tun more generally: “Radical alteity applies [for the ontological theoists] only to relations between cultural worlds.” By contrast, Graeber’s own argument about a kind o Malagasy cham medicine called fanafody seems proximate to my own analytic o encounter. He suggests that the persistent Malagasy claim that fanafody is a quintessentially Malagasy practice has always been an outcome—and a negotiation—o encounter, such that the perceived Malagasy- ness o fanafody is fundamentally predicated on the routine incoporation o non- Malagasy elements. I I’m reading Graeber ight—although he might well reject my teminology—fanafody is symptomatic o an ongoing and restless settlement. Rather than starting from the presumption o preconstituted, bounded cultural worlds, what would happen to the analysis i it started from the presumption that the making o such worlds and the discourses that defend them (us/them, ours/theirs) is a kind o immune reaction to pro- vocative encounters?Adono wrote scathingly o the “ontological need” that seemed to beset the Heideggeians o his day, by which he meant a longing 18      for an unmediated access to the world such that one might dwell in it “authentically.” For Adono, part o the problem with this ontological desire for immediacy was its erasure o the mediations that produce the actual, histoical worlds that we all inhabit, its desire “to delete the transmissions instead o re€ecting them.” Similarly, as Eduardo Kohn notes, the current ontological longing is in part a reaction to approaches ushered in by the citique o representation, “which draw attention to the constucted nature o anthropological representations and thus amplify the linguistic even as they incoporate more sophisticated analyses o power and histoy.”like many current ontophiles, Kohn is careful to note that representations—language, symbolic systems—are themselves ontological problems. Nevertheless

20 , his discussion remains organized aroun
, his discussion remains organized around an opposition between the promise o ontological access and a long- hegemonic linguistic- symbolic- constuctionist “humanist” or “cultural” approach to knowledge, which is based on “a shap division between the world o signs and the world to which those signs refer without an account o how these worlds may be connected.” e ontological—and, cucially, the ecological—challenge, Kohn suggests, is “getting ight this relationship o language to nonlanguage, especially via the route o the representational but not linguistic.”‚‹Amid the indubitable urgencies o our global situation, Kohn oers two choices: either anthropologists acknowledge the integral dierence o our infomants’ worlds (the ontological option), or they insist that there is no longer any outside to the global sameness machine o neocolonial domination: “Anthropology surely has a nostalgic relation to the kinds o alteity that certain histoical forces (which have also played a role in creating our \reld) have destroyed. To recognize this is one thing. It is quite another to say that for this reason there is no longer any conceptual space ‘alter’ to the logic o this kind o domination. For this would be the \rnal act o colonization, one that would subject the possibility o something else, located in other lived worlds, human and othewise, to a far more pemanent death.”‚ŒBut surely these are not the only altenatives. Why should we have to choose between extenal alteity and intenal unifomity? What i dierence itsel is immanently emergent? And what i the totality out o which it emerges is not so much a totalizing impeial machine as a 19       ƒ ˆ   network o encounters in which the logic o domination is not easily distinguishable from (but also not reducible to) that o the recognition o integral dierence? What i the key problem is not how to establish ethical encounters between entities that must be allowed their dierence, but rather one o attending to the long and ongoing making o dierence as a response to/management of/disavowal o encounter?Let m

21 e be clear. What I’m suggesting is
e be clear. What I’m suggesting is neither that these dierences “aren’t real” nor that they are simply ideological media o some global system o govenmentality. e worlds people produce and dismantle—by means o representations, discourses, and built environments—are artifacts as real and as vital as anything else they inhabit. And the fact that these worlds aise out o social relations that are not innocent o translocal power projects does not in any way automatically curtail their creative and transfomative potential. My point is simply that we shouldn’t have to choose between totalizing discourses o global capitalism/empire/govenmentality/whatever on the one hand and quasi- essentializing discourses o cultural difference on the other.I’m Still Here! (Or, What Enlightenment Subject?)Mana, in one version, is the substance that holds worlds together and yet leaks out so as to blur the boundaies between one thing and another. Mana infuses and radiates from the people and objects that have the capacity to mark the boundaies o worlds and, above all, to be ecacious within and between those worlds. Mana is, as I noted at the outset, at once the palpable authoity o canonical order and the volatile force that troubles order. As such, thinking mana means thinking the social ontology o objects.But mana also needs to be considered from the side o the subject since, as Durkheim pointed out, mana feels, subjectively, like “genuine respect,” like that which makes us “defer to society’s orders.”Mana is, Durkheim says, the medium o collective morality; it’s what makes a given social order feel necessay and legitimate. From a citical theoy standpoint, one might say that mana is a medium o ideology, o subjectivation. Durkheim is quite explicit about what I would 20      call the extimacy o mana qua ideology: “we readily conceive o it in the fom o a moral power that, while immanent in us, also represents something in us that is other than ourselves.” At one level, my project in this book is to reconsider what mana might help to claify about world making, especially in tems o the mediation o social energy and social fom. But the question o world making has never been separable

22 from the question o how worlds rec
from the question o how worlds recuit and condition the subjects that come to understand themselves through, and s also reproduce, those worlds. As the section titles o this book suggests, mana is as much a problem o the social in the subject as it is a problem o the subject in the social.So here’s something else I want to be clear about: it’s because I take seiously the problem o how we might produce, recover, and cultivate ethical relations with our broader ecologies (human and nonhuman) that I think the allegedly catastrophic Enlightenment Subject is worth a longer look. In particular, I’d like to suggest that it would be helpful to think two dimensions o the subject together: the subject’s resonant opening to others (what I will later call the subject’s addressability), and the subject’s susceptibility to ideological attachments and identi\rcations. In making the case, I want to acknowledge my long and profound debt—to be sure, an ambivalent relation o allegiance and rebellion—to Max Horkheimer and eodor Adono’s Dialectic o Enlightenment, a pro- vocative text i ever there was one. But I would also note that what I’m oeing in this book, especially in chapter 4, could be read as a modi\rcation o Louis Althusser’s theoy o intepellation (which is also a stoy o encounter and constitutive resonance)—the theoy o how we become bjects, how we come to identify with the names and identities that give us ourselves. As Peter Sloterdijk has obseved, something remains to be understood here concening why certain encounters cause us to resonate and not others:How can it be that for billions o messages, I am the rock on which their waves break without resonance, while certain voices and instuctions unlock me and make me tremble as i I were the chosen instument to render them audible, a medium and mouthpiece simply for their urge to sound? Is there not still a mystey o access to consider here? Does my accessibility to certain unrefusable messages not 21       ƒ ˆ   have its dark ‘reason’ in an ability to reverberate that has not yet been adequately discussed?Present- day posthumanists and ontophiles are absolutely ight to lament the radical gap th

23 at Enlightenment thinkers imposed betwee
at Enlightenment thinkers imposed between humans and nonhumans. A majoity o canonical texts from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuies devote signi\rcant space to making the case for human exceptionality vis- à- vis all other animals, let alone other foms o life and nonlife. But as Horkheimer and Adono point out, this “diremption” (violent teaing apart) o the human and the nonhuman didn’t only lead modens to reduce the entire \reld o the nonhuman to an object o (more or less successful) human mastey. Just as importantly, it also bequeathed to them a radically impoveished conception o the human itself. Central to Horkheimer and Adono’s stoy is the repression and co- optation o a human capacity for mimesis or constitutive resonance, such that moden humans exiled themselves into a position o alienated domination vis- à- vinatures both extenal and intenal that allowed them to understand the world only insofar as they disavowed their mimetic continuity with it. One o the most remarkable things about the anthropological approach—participant obsevation—is the way it tuns constitutive encounter into method, ambivalently both aming and disavowing mimetic resonance.One might add to this stoy another dimension that is all too frequently forgotten today. Many o the thinkers associated most paradigmatically with the Enlightenment were in fact not so much obsessed with how to master the world from a position o domineeing extenality (although that is how their thought oŠen took practical fom, once it was operationalized by political and commercial eaucracies). Rather, they remained preoccupied with questions o aective resonance and human pemeability. In the mid- eighteenth centuy, David Hume and Adam Smith tied, through the notion o “sympathy,” to work out whether the human propensity for encounter- based mimetic response might be “scaled up” so as to provide a medium o moral oientation in a moden society o strangers. A few decades later, Kant’s third and \rnal citique suggested that our capacity for aesthetic judgment provided a spontaneously sensuous foundation for human reason—an object- ethics 22      preceding and subtending his sub

24 ject- ethics. (Does this point to anot
ject- ethics. (Does this point to another settlement? One for which “the Kantian catastrophe” is the symptom marking the spot where one part o Kant’s thinking—his object- ethics—has to be disavowed in order to sustain the “injuy,” the “loss” that justi\res the ontological tun?)e \rrst pinciple o Kant’s aesthetic was, in/famously, his insistence that a tue aesthetic judgment has to be absolutely noninterested—that we can only tuly know beauty i our relation to the beautiful thing is completely free o any desire or instumental motive. Much ink has been spilled on his apparently peverse demand. Is it even possible to separate desire from aesthetic pleasure? What kind o subject position, at once world embedded and world transcending, would that require? For the puposes o my discussion here, I only want to note one thing: Kant demands such a igorous policing o desire because he’s tenderly conscious o our susceptibility to ideological seduction precisely on the terrain o aesthetic pleasure.As such, Kant sets up a way o thinking about subjectivity and ideology that will have profound rami\rcations all the way down to the present. On the one hand, we are resonantly, vitally porous to objects. On the other hand, because we are resonantly, vitally porous to objects we must constantly be on guard against the manipulative uses that interested parties might make o our porosity. Beauty, Kant says, makes the good society possible by pulling people together freely in sense and sensibility. But beauty is also the treacherous lure that politicians and churchmen use to lull us into surrendeing our autonomous judgment—in Kant’s tems, our capacity for enlightenment.Here we have the matix o most theoies o ideology. e mana o mass society might be, as Durkheim claimed, a “moral power” o solidaity and reason. But it might also be the honeyed words o the chaismatic leader inciting patiotic murder, a garden- vaiety discourse o prejudice in the naturalizing name o “values,” or just an advertisement promising youth and vitality for the pice o a purchase. e question then becomes: why should one have to imagine autonomy and resonance in a zero- sum way? Especially i Kant himself,

25 alias Papa Enlightenment Subject, unders
alias Papa Enlightenment Subject, understood constitutive resonance—the basis o our expeience o beauty—as the vey condition o possibility for autonomous reason. 23       ƒ ˆ   is book reads mana as an extimate symptom o the settlements that establish more or less coherently inhabitable worlds, both at the level o the worlds in which we live and at the level o how social theoy divides up its objects. As an extimate symptom it feels at once like the thing that makes those worlds matter, that solicits aective attachment, and the thing that troubles their edges, that calls their coherence into question. A key premise o my argument in these pages will be that these two dimensions o the mana symptom are inexticable, in fact mutually constitutive. is has major implications for how we think about subjectivity, the ways in which we are addressable as subjects, and thus what it means for us to inhabit the worlds in which we live and in relation to which we become who we are.My proposition will, in its general outlines, be familiar from Freud: subjectivity is itsel a settlement, made and remade, aising out o an ongoing seies o encounters. Because it’s a settlement, it’s a space o familiar attachments (including attachments to habits o rebelling against those attachments). And yet it’s also symptomatic, constantly generative o uncanny intimations—in dreams, in unexpected associations, in recurrent contradictions—o what has been savowed in order to produce the appearance o coherence and stability. Sloterdijk obseves: “Hal o nomality consists o microscopic deviations from the noms.” And so it is with subjectivity. Just as the human eye, in order to maintain the subjective appearance o stable objects, constantly has to move ever so slightly from side to side, so we engage in the constant, exhausting yet largely unconscious, labor o producing and reproducing the stability o our sense o ourselves.And yet at the same time—and this is the cucial point—the mana o a relation to a world (an inner world, an outer world) is double. It appears as an attachment to order and stability, yet that attachment would be impossible were it not for the simultaneo

26 us sense that it contains something that
us sense that it contains something that is not yet clear, that is not yet settled, that is at once seductive and threatening. As G. W. F. Hegel once remarked: “What through art or thinking we have before our physical piitual eye as an object has lost all absolute interest for us i it has been put before us so completely that the content is exhausted, that eveything is revealed, and nothing obscure or inward is leŠ over any more.” 24      Approaching the problem dialectically reveals that the mimetic excess that might be called mana does simultaneously constitutive and destitutive work vis- à- vis any given social order and, further, that both the constitutive and the destitutive dimensions o mana work are both part o the fascination (the mana) o a world. Jacques Derida (whom I am hereby proud to induct into the Guild o Unwilling Dialecticians—better late than never) captures this eect beautifully, illustrating how precisely the non closure that we sense in a discourse can oŠen be what draws us further into its web. Here the plenitude o mana appears at the same time as an irresistible absence: “I a speech could be purely present, unveiled, naked, oered up in person in its tuth, without the detours o a signi\rer foreign to it, i at the limit an undeferred logos were possible, it would not seduce anyone.”e implications would seem to be signi\rcant. First and foremost, the need to move beyond the zero- sum drama o hegemony and resistance, o the co- opted versus the citical subject. What attaches us to worlds—to ideologies, to subject positions, to ways o being—is not a watertight and self- sucient set o propositions that one might accept or reject, believe in or not believe in. Rather, it is, i anything, precisely the opposite. Worlds solicit identi\rcation and resonance—and thus also con€ict—because o an unresolved lack that gives us a prompt for work, play, and desire. e Indian poet, scholar, and translator A. K. Ramanujan used to say that myths are like cystals: they grow where there’s a €aw—in other words, a symptomatic gap that tiggers the creative work o imagination and intepretation. It’s the same with worlds; we need them because they need us. But this also means that resistance

27 is not cleanly separable from attachmen
is not cleanly separable from attachment. Or to put it dierently, that the weakness or vulnerability o an ideological fomation is also its strength.is, obviously, not a Romantic position. ere is no guarantee that the gaps, \rssures, and intenal contradictions o a worldview open onto resistance; they might just as well be the source o the fascination that draws us closer into the attachments that keep us in line. Dierence and desire are built into power; they are the vey conditions o its ecacy. And yet, as John Durham Peters notes, there is also something profoundly vitalizing in the knowledge that it’s not 25       ƒ ˆ   just that our perspectives on the world will always be lacking but rather that vitally, generatively, the world itsel is lackingPerhaps the past cannot be tapped in its full immediacy because the present is not fully immediate. ere are vast patches o unobseved reality silently lurking in evey moment—at higher and lower levels o magni\rcation, for dierent organs o sense, for minds quicker or slower than ours. Even for the most acute obsever, desciptions might be incomplete, not only because o limited tools but because reality is lacking. Just as we oŠen do not know what we mean when we speak, so the universe might not always be so sure o itself. e cosmos is stucturally incomplete, as gap- idden as its \rle. Such wonderful conditions these are! e universe generously accommodates our evey new act, word, or thought. ere is still plenty to do. It is open for new events; it is a container with a gracious void.Ticking Clock: OrganizationMy reappraisal o mana is by no means a nostalgic exercise (although it will no doubt oer the fetishist some incidental antiquaian pleasures!). Nor is it some reactionay appeal for a retun to anthropological fundamentals. What motivates me is, rather, a sense o unexpected contemporaneity. With Walter Benjamin, I believe that elements o our pasts, once liberated from the histoicist burden o having to culminate in the present, may, like sparks leaping across time, illuminate novel resonances between then and now. I the mana moment in one sense ended about a centuy ago, it is in another sense perhaps only now

28 becoming intelligible. Just as Benjamin
becoming intelligible. Just as Benjamin once wrote to his fiend and sponsor Horkheimer o his ongoing attempts to make the Pais arcades o the nineteenth centuy release their profane illumination into his own histoical present, I now wite in the conviction that mana “has something to say to us only because it is contained in the ticking o a clock whose stiking o the hour has just reached ears.”† e mana moment, the peiod spanning roughly 1870 to 1920, saw, in Euro- Ameican social thought, an undoing o the energetic settle 26      ment that had produced the nineteenth- centuy bourgeois individual and his (yes, paradigmatically hiscial foms. I will have more to say about the mana moment in chapter 1. For now, it may simply be relevant to suggest that the ticking o the mana clock may have reached our ears today because we are all, once again, facing the undoing, at a planetay level, o the energetic settlements that have constituted long- reigning assumptions about the human and the social. In both moments, the question was, and is: what can be redeemed, caried over, translated, activated, so as to retheoize the social rewards and isks o our vital powers? Perhaps a previously impossible phrase—the mana o mass society—is now becoming intelligible.In addition to this introduction, the book is organized into two parts, “e Social in the Subject” and “e Subject in the Social,” each compising two chapters. e \rrst two chapters deal predominantly with classic anthropological mateials, as refracted through citical- theoretical concens. e second two, inversely, engage citical theoy in light o the earlier anthropological readings.Chapter 1, “Moden Savagey: Mana beyond the Empiicist Settlement,” oers a genealogy o the mana concept, the better to show (a) that mana always pointed to an ambiguous kinship between the energetics o so- called pimitive itual and those o so- called moden or civilized powers, and (b) that the theoretical development o this insight was blocked by what I am calling the “empiicist settlement.” e empiicist settlement was the consolidation, around 1920, o the notion that legitimate anthropolo

29 gy consisted paradigmatically o sin
gy consisted paradigmatically o single- sited long- tem \reldwork in (what had to look like) a bounded, small- scale society, and the pinciple that all social phenomena should be intepreted in tems of, and referred back to, the social and cultural order o that bounded, small- scale society. What the empiicist settlement most strenuously disavowed was its relation to its immediate precursor, the speculative, comparativist, and progressionist models o the so- called amchair anthropologists. Chapter 1, then, has two main conceptual aims. e \rrst is to push back beyond the empiicist settlement by intepreting its symptoms and ask what might be worth redeeming from the speculative impulse that it so strenuously repressed. e second, by way a possible exempli\rcation, is to move toward a ful\rllment o the 27       ƒ ˆ   lost promise embedded in a conception o mana that straddled the division between “pimitive” and “moden” societies. What would it mean to speak o a mana o mass society? In what sense is the mana work o “pimitive” magicians comparable to that of, say, “moden” orators or marketers?e heart o chapter 2, “Ecstatic Life and Social Fom: Collective Eevescence and the Pimitive Settlement,” is a reconsideration o Durkheim’s classic theoy o itual, read as a theoy o the social mediation o vital energy. I situate Durkheim’s discussion in relation to a long- standing tendency in anthropology to render questions o vitality seconday to questions o intelligibility, such that the energetic dimensions o world making are at once acknowledged and disavowed. e conceptual core o chapter 2 is the question o the relation between immanence and transcendence in the making o social worlds, a question that I consider in light o apparently defunct anthropological debates about “pimitive” versus “moden” foms o thought. Here, too, mana emerges as a symptom o a settlement: the pimitive settlement, according to which “pimitives” engage the world by participation, whereas “modens” manage it by means o representation. &#

30 30;e energy/fom dialectic o Du
30;e energy/fom dialectic o Durkheim’s itual scenaio oers me a way to point beyond the pimitive settlement, but not before putting equal citical pressure on the pimitivism o Durkheim’s own anthropological imagination. I move toward the concens o part II by rounding o chapter 2 with a consideration o the chaismatic settlements that establish and undemine worlds we inhabit—and, as such, the potentially troubling indistinction between ideological subjection and human €ouishing.Chapter 3, “Anxious Autonomy: e Agony o Perfect Addressability and the Aesthetic Settlement,” moves the focus o my discussion from anthropology to citical theoy, and from the social to the subject. e central concen o the chapter is to get to gips with a moti that stuctures citical- theoretical approaches to the seductions o ideology, from politics to marketing: the anxiety o the autonomous subject, who, at the limit, cannot distinguish being perfectly and completely recognized as who he or she really is from being perfectly and completely incoporated into an extenal order—that is to say, being completely extinguished as an autonomous and citically vigilant subject. I explore the current fascination with algoith 28      mically organized precision- targeted foms o marketing that are, like Homer’s Sirens, supposed only to sing the singular song o the individual they’re addressing. I ask what might be made o the fact that subliminal manipulation is currently being reconceptualized as a desirable good. Having pushed the \rgure o manipulation to the limit, I then retun to the locus classicus o the paranoid style in mass cultural analysis, Horkheimer and Adono’s essay on the culture industy, and proceed to suggest, against the prevailing tide, that it is precisely by way o Adono’s dialectical aesthetic theoy that one can get beyond Adono’s debilitating (and completely undialectical) dismissal o mass culture. Here, too, a settlement is at stake: the aesthetic settlement that pemitted othewise “pimitive” mana a place in the order o “civilization,” as long as that place could be called “art.” e work o

31 7; the latter part o the chapter co
7; the latter part o the chapter consists in showing how Adono’s autonomously citical subject requires a parallel conception o an autonomous aesthetic object, and in asking under what tems what Adono calls the “pimacy o the object” might be allowed to do what Adono insisted it must not: infom a dialectical theoy o the mana o mass society beyond the sequestered space o art.Finally, chapter 4, “Are You Talking to Me? Eros and Nomos in the Mimetic Archive,” oers a theoy o self- and world- making through constitutive resonance. Pulling together the threads o chapters 1 through 3, chapter 4 makes a case for the mimetic archive as an alternative to (or possibly a revitalization of) a culture concept that has en compromised not least by its ready adoption by state and commercial interests. I argue that constitutive resonance can usefully be understood in tems o a dialectical play between eros (resonance, love) and nomos (order, law) and sketch the outlines o a theoy o addressability—not only a theoy o intepellation (how do we become the selves that we are in moments o encounter such that we expeience that becoming as “fated”) but also a theoy o the vital co- constitution o inner and outer worlds, and o the inseparability o self- understanding and object- resonance. I conclude the chapter by retuning to Durkheim’s theoy o the sacred and Weber’s theoy o chaisma in order to ask how one might understand the fractalizeddistibuted foms o these capacities and these intensities once one considers their life beyond their spectacular and exceptional concen 29       ƒ ˆ   tration in big ituals, monuments, or leaders. is becomes an occasion to re€ect on some o the ways in which politics and marketing spond to a cisis in the self- representation o popular sovereignty by appeaing, by means o constitutive resonance, to reconcile eros and nomos, love and law. Chapter 4 rounds o the book by retuning to the question o how one might retheoize power and ideological intepellation starting from the ambivalent complicities and attachments o constitutive resona