This article explores the relationships between crime, collective responses to it, and the social production of so-called great criminals. It argues that crime, especially sexual and violent crime, produces significant imbalances in individuals habitually subject to instrumental actions, identitarian thinking and positive law. These imbalances are emotional as well as cognitive and, under certain conditions of communication, can generate states of multitude, that is, collective states linked to an intense affectivity and to the prevalence of mythic or symbolic thinking. These (...) states reach their limits and become condensed in the mytho-historical figure of the great criminal. In this sense, great criminals are a function of such multitudinous states: points of imputation that concentrate and catalyze the affective imagination unleashed by collective effervescence. (shrink)

On the one hand, we find secularized approaches to theology stemming from the Death of God movement of the 1960s, particularly as pursued by North American religious thinkers such as Thomas J.J. Altizer, Mark C. Taylor, Charles Winquist, Carl Raschke, Robert Scharlemann, and others, who stress that the possibilities for theological discourse are fundamentally altered by the new conditions of our contemporary world. Our world today, in their view, is constituted wholly on a plane of immanence, to such an extent (...) that traditional appeals to faith in an other world become difficult to take as more than self-deception and willful blindness to our human reality. On the other hand, we hear the assertion of a new lease on life for theology and its traditional affirmation of divine transcendence over and against the putative arrogance of all claims of human autonomy. This claim is advanced particularly by theologians grouped under the banner of the so-called Radical Orthodoxy. Emanating from England, originally from the University of Cambridge in the 1980s and 1990s, this movement includes such theological thinkers as John Milbank, Graham Ward, Rowan Williams, and Catherine Pickstock. It has also explicitly styled itself “post-secularist.” I propose that both approaches are based on not very fully acknowledged and often explicitly denied premises in negative theology, which surprisingly emerges as key to fostering genuine possibilities for dialogue among apparently antagonistic theological approaches. (shrink)

Résumé Le terme d’intimocide nous permet d’interroger une autre dimension, à côté de celles de génocide et d’ethnocide, de la violence infligée à des êtres humains. Atteinte violente à l’intimité, l’intimocide est une étape de l’extension du domaine de la mise à mort, il vise le dernier rempart du sens d’une existence, la détruire dans son for intérieur. Phénomène politique, lié au gouvernement d’une société et aux aspirations que ce gouvernement manifeste vis-à-vis de l’individu, l’intimocide est une stratégie de domination (...) totale. Notre étude, au croisement des approches sémiotique et anthropologique, a pour but de différencier le terme d’intimocide des termes limitrophes, tout en cernant ses aspects, repérés dans des ouvrages de référence ainsi que dans notre propre observation participante du régime totalitaire communiste et du régime post-communiste. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Patchwork of Non-Integrated OthersMichael Elias (bio)It has been a long time since I first presented a paper at a Colloquium on Violence & Religion (COV&R) conference, in 1994 in Wiesbaden, entitled "Neck Riddles in Mimetic Theory." It discusses riddle stories in which a man sentenced to death saves his life by propounding to the judge a riddle that he cannot possibly solve, because it is based on bizarre (...) experiences, unique to the condemned person. This was somewhat similar to what I did in my lecture, because I hid the fact that my research, which I would later base my doctorate on, was inspired by the eccentric experiences from psychoses that overtook me between 1979 and 1983 and landed me in a psychiatric hospital. Moreover, the motif of a condemned person saving his life is related for me to the experiences of my father, who spent weeks on death row at Buchenwald concentration camp during World War II—and miraculously escaped death. As the eldest in the family, I was definitely "the boy who had to make everything right."I am convinced that a lot of research is related to a researcher's own experiences. Our maître à penser, René Girard, tells his interviewer Michel Treguer, in answer to a question about the last chapter of Mensonge romantique, "You're [End Page 121] right, of course, about there being a personal experience behind what I say. I ended up understanding that I was going through an experience of the kind that I was describing."1 In his overview of Girard's work, Wolfgang Palaver wrote, "He began to turn away from his own pride and to see himself as a puppet of his own mimetic desire."2 But Girard adds a caveat in 1994: There is the danger of narcissism.3I also experience that when I do not stick to the theory, but try to clarify parts of my life story from the moment I started reading Girard's Des choses cachées depuis la fondation du monde, which offered me a new opening to my Christian background. It stimulated me to start learning Hebrew to investigate the roots of Christianity.My learning still continues, in a study group: what Jews do in a beth hamidrash. The Torah is too great to be owned by any of us, so the mimetic rivalry that is always there becomes a fruitful mimesis: Lernen leads to freedom. The last ten years we have been studying the book of Exodus, with midrashim from the long rabbinic tradition. It's a book of liberation that finally gave me the courage to write about that profound period in the psychiatric hospital.From the third part of Des choses cachées, I learned a lot about interdividuality, and also from J.-M. Oughourlian's The Mimetic Brain, in which he distinguishes between the rational, emotional, and mimetic brain. And from Henri Grivois, who published on incipient psychosis. Initially I steered toward a kind of psycho-philosophical self-analysis using insights from mimetic theory. However, in the end I decided: What I learned will not be put in a scientific treatise, but a novel. For several reasons:1. I learned from Mensonge romantique that real knowledge can be conveyed very well through a novel.2. Hungarian writer and Nobel Prize winner Imre Kertész, explaining why he was unable to describe his real-life concentration camp experiences, gave me the freedom to paradoxically tell my "real story" in fiction.3. I could by no means always remember exactly what had happened, and therefore had to resort to fiction, even though I had preserved material from those years.4. I wanted to make people in my immediate surroundings unrecognizable by literary means. The American writer David Vann once said (according to a Dutch writer), "You must sacrifice your family on the altar of fiction." I didn't want that, especially with regard to my mother. [End Page 122]5. Finally, I was inspired by a Jewish sage from the eighteenth century in Lithuania (the maggid of Doubno). He explains why the truth of the Torah is not presented as a philosophy or code of law... (shrink)